The Heretic Queen

unforgettable at one moment vanishes like steam the next. I didn’t want this to happen to the afternoon that Ramesses and I had shared together, so I imagined it again and again in my mind, committing to memory the look in his eyes, the smell of his skin, the feel of his strong legs between mine. I felt a deep longing to be with him, and I wondered whether he was thinking of me in the palace, too.

I slept fitfully that night, worried that in the morning I would awake and find it all to have been a dream. But when the milky sun filtered through the reed mats, I opened my eyes and saw that the servants were already packing. Merit smiled at me over a handful of linens.

“I wondered if you were planning to get up at all, my lady.”

I scrambled from my bed. “Are we leaving?”

“As soon as you’ve dressed and braided your hair. Then I expect that Woserit will want to speak with you.”

I had become skilled at dressing quickly in the cold, and by the time Merit had finished with my hair, Woserit came in to survey the chamber. The servants had removed my bottles and heavy chests. Even my sheaths, and robes, and beaded gowns had been folded into baskets and whisked away. The chamber looked large and empty, and the glazed tile walls and high ceilings echoed with our voices.

“They have done well,” Woserit said approvingly. “Are you prepared to leave?”

I felt a rising panic in my chest. The temple was not my home, but it was where I had become a woman and learned to be a princess. “I would like to say farewell to Aloli first,” I said. “And some of the other priestesses.”

“There will be time for that.” Woserit took a seat and motioned for me to do the same. I sat, and Woserit made a face. “I shall hope you don’t take your throne that way! Like some weary petitioner who’s stood outside the court all day and is willing to throw herself on the first available surface for relief.”

I tried again, standing and then slowly seating myself. I pressed my knees together and straightened my back. I folded my hands over my lap and looked at her.

“Much better. The way you take your chair this morning will say as much about you as the words that come out of your mouth.” She motioned with her hand. “Let’s get Tefer into a basket and make your farewells. This will be a busy day. If Ramesses does plan to make you his wife, he will have to fight for you in the Audience Chamber. Do you recall what Paser told you about being inside?”

“That it’s like the Great Hall, but instead there’s only one table with petitioners.”

“And on the dais, there will be four thrones.”

“For Ramesses, Pharaoh Seti, Queen Tuya, and Iset.”

“And if Ramesses makes you his queen, you will take Iset’s place. She will not be welcome in the Great Hall after that.”

I pressed my lips together and acknowledged the gravity of displacing Iset.

“Of course, Ramesses must never know that you want to be Chief Wife. Let him come to that decision on his own. But even if he makes you queen, he will divide his time between you and Iset.” Woserit saw my expression and added, “If you love Ramesses, you will not make it difficult for him. Heirs for the throne of Egypt are more important than any wife’s petty jealousy.”

I felt stung, but nodded in agreement. “I will be pleasant at all times,” I promised her.

“And cheerful,” she added, “and welcoming.”

Eventually, we made our way out of the temple and reached the quay, where all of my belongings were being carried in cedar chests onto Hathor’s ship. While Merit supervised the move, I bade my farewells to the priestesses of Hathor. Aloli was particularly sad to see me go.

“Who will I share my secrets with now?” she complained.

“You’ll find some innocent priestess to lead astray,” I teased. “But truly,” I said, and my words were in earnest, “thank you. For everything.” I gave her a farewell embrace, and Merit brought a mewling Tefer onto the boat as the last of our belongings. I stood on the stern of Hathor’s ship, surrounded by baskets and heavy chests, and waved to the priestesses on the shore.

CHAPTER NINE

SIMPLY A MARRIAGE

  WHEN WE ARRIVED in Malkata, the quay was filled with the towering prows of Pharaoh Seti’s ships. Their blue and gold pennants snapped in the wind, while below them an army of servants was packing the royal belongings for a journey north. There was the royal statuary wrapped carefully in linen, and chests so large that four men shouldered poles simply to carry them. Chamberlains, scribes, fan bearers, sandal bearers, even emissaries were rushing to pack for Avaris, where Seti would rule Lower Egypt while Ramesses governed the upper kingdom from Thebes.

“I thought Pharaoh was going to announce his move today?” I asked.

“Officially, yes,” Woserit replied.

“But the court already knows?”

“Certainly. But the rest of Egypt must be told. My brother will make his announcement in the Audience Chamber, and his scribes will post the news at the door of every temple.”

Woserit instructed the boatsmen to carry my chests into the royal courtyard, and Merit passed the basket with Tefer to a young girl who promised to take him to the chamber that Woserit had given me. As we walked through the towering gates of Malkata, Merit whispered, “Stop fidgeting.” I was twisting the linen edges of my belt. “There’s nothing you can do now,” she added. “It’s in the hands of the gods.”

In the palace, there was a tense energy, as if the court knew what Ramesses was about to request, and how the viziers and High Priestess of Isis would respond. Courtiers darted furtive glances at me, and a young serving girl lowered her heavy linen basket to watch us pass. In the golden hall before the Audience Chamber, Woserit said firmly, “Stay here with Merit until the herald calls for you.”

We seated ourselves on an ebony bench whose legs had been carved into the heads of swans. “Are there petitioners inside?”

“No. They have been dismissed. Today is for my brother’s private business.”

“And Iset?” I asked quickly.

Woserit sniffed. “Without the petitioners, there’s no reason for her to be here. She’s probably hennaing her toenails in the baths.” She pulled open one of the heavy bronze doors, and as she entered, she left it wide open behind her. I glanced at Merit.

“This is why we arrived late,” she whispered.

So that Woserit could be the last in the chamber and leave the door open for us to listen. I looked up at the guards, but both of their faces were expressionless, and I wondered if they had been paid to cooperate. I leaned forward on the bench and looked in. The Audience Chamber was as wide and impressive as both Paser and Woserit had described it. A forest of columns held up the painted ceiling, and from the high windows you could see the crests of the western hills. Ramesses was seated between his parents. Below him, at a table for viziers and dignitaries, I recognized Henuttawy by the red of her cloak. Her back was to us, and only those who were sitting on the dais could look down the long aisle of the Audience Chamber and see that the door had been left open. But today no one would be interested in what was happening outside.

At first, there were too many voices from within to make out anything clearly. Then I heard Pharaoh’s golden crook strike the dais, and suddenly there was silence. The announcement was made that he and Queen Tuya would leave for Avaris in two days on the thirteenth of Choiak.

We listened as Pharaoh Seti told his court sculptor what sort of image should be carved on the Wall of Proclamation outside of Karnak to let visitors know his court had moved to Avaris. He wanted a painting of a fleet of ships, with him and the queen standing on a prow in their golden crowns. In the next scene, he imagined himself standing on the quay in Avaris. There was a moment of silence as the sculptor took notes, then I heard Paser’s voice addressing Pharaoh Seti. “There is something His Highness Ramesses would like to request.”

Courtiers shifted uncomfortably, and their gold bangles clinked loudly in the uneasy silence. The court knew what Ramesses was going to ask, and Henuttawy had made certain to be in the Audience Chamber for the announcement. Next to her I could see the leopard cloak of the High Priest. Although I couldn’t see his face, I could imagine Rahotep’s carnelian eye moving as he followed the proceedings, and how his lips were stretched into his