The Heretic Queen

THE AUDIENCE CHAMBER

  WHAT SHOULD HAVE been Pharaoh’s triumphant departure from Thebes became instead a quiet lakeside farewell. I wondered if the court members were as angry with Seti as they were with me. He had allowed my marriage to Ramesses to proceed, and he knew that if there was plague, or further drought in Thebes, the blame would likely fall on me. Tuya held back tears while she embraced her only son, and Ramesses’s face was solemn. No one knew what might happen once Seti’s ships left, and over the crying of the gulls I heard him remind Ramesses, “Half of my army stays with you. If there is any talk of rebellion—”

“There won’t be rebellion.”

But Seti wasn’t placated. “Have your men watch over the city. Four viziers are staying behind. Send one of them to walk the streets and listen to what the people are saying. This is your capital now.” Behind him, the white palace of Malkata gleamed like a pearl against the darkening sky. “Its glory will reflect your reign. You should begin rebuilding the Temple of Luxor, and let the people see that there is nothing more important to you than honoring the gods.”

Seti beckoned to me with a jeweled finger. “Little Nefertari.” I embraced him as tightly as I could. “I want you to be careful on the eastern bank,” he cautioned. “Be patient with the people.”

“I will,” I promised.

Then Seti took my arm and led me aside. I felt certain that he was going to say something about what had happened in the streets the day before. But instead, he said in a conspiratorial whisper, “I also want you to take care of my son. Ramesses is rash, and he needs a head with reason—”

I flushed. “I think you should be talking to Asha . . .”

“Asha will keep my son from trouble on the battlefield. It’s trouble at court I’m worried about. Not everyone lives their life according to the rules of Ma’at, and I suspect that behind those pretty green eyes you have a good understanding of this.”

Seti stepped back, and as I reached forward to embrace Tuya farewell, Adjo strained at his leash and snapped angrily at the air.

“That’s enough!” Tuya reprimanded. She gave me a long look from beneath her wide Nubian wig. “He never barks at anyone else.”

The trumpets blared, and the clanging of sistrums filled the air. Seti and Tuya went on board and soon waved from the prow of their ship. As Ramesses and I waved back, Iset appeared beside us and asked, “What does it feel like to be the Pharaoh of all of Thebes?”

Ramesses looked at her as if to ask how she could wonder such a thing. “Lonely,” he replied.

An hour remained until the Audience Chamber, so as the court returned to the palace, Ramesses took my hand and it became clear to everyone where he intended to be. After all, we had only been married for a day.

By the time Merit knocked on our door and told us that the petitioners had arrived, Ramesses was not feeling so lonely. I took his arm, and we walked together into the Audience Chamber where the herald grandly announced our presence. Inside, the entire court had gathered. Courtiers rolled knucklebones next to the warmth of the braziers, and musicians huddled around the dais, performing on their double flutes and lyres. Women laughed at the back of the room, and a few old noblemen in warm furs were playing Senet. It looked more like a feast in the Great Hall than a place for the affairs of state. I was shocked. “Is it always so merry?”

Ramesses laughed at my surprise. “Until the business begins.”

“And then where do all of these people go?”

“Oh, most of them will remain. But the musicians will leave, and the courtiers will keep quiet.”

In the middle of the Audience Chamber, the viziers were already seated at their tables. They stood as we passed, and I nodded briefly to Paser. “Your Majesty,” they murmured. “Princess Nefertari.” I caught the bloodied eye of Rahotep and thought, He will send me all of the difficult petitioners. He will try to embarrass me.

On the dais, Iset was already seated at her throne. She was dressed in a wide collar I had never seen on her before, and she had left the front of her heavy cloak open to remind the court of her swelling belly. Five months, with only four to go, I thought. If she births a son, and a Chief Wife has not been announced, her child will be the heir to Egypt’s throne until Ramesses declares otherwise. I knew that everyone was watching me, and I was careful as I ascended the steps. The thrones had been set close enough together so that if Ramesses wanted, he could stretch his arms from the center of the dais and touch both of his wives. In the history of Egypt, there had never been two thrones for dueling princesses.

“Are you ready?” Ramesses asked both of us, and I nodded. He struck his crook on the dais and declared, “Bring forth the petitioners!”

Courtiers sprang into action. The wide doors leading to the courtyard of Malkata were thrown open, and the first petitioners were led inside. Three men approached the viziers’ table, and all of them bore scrolls that they handed to the viziers. I watched while Paser, Rahotep, and Anemro read the petitions, then took out their reed pens and signed a name on the bottom of each scroll. Then all three men approached the dais, and the oldest one held his petition out to me with a bow.

“For the princess Nefertari,” he said. My family’s seal had been drawn on the scroll, but it wasn’t in Paser’s hand. The old man watched me with plain distrust. “I asked to see the princess Iset, but the High Priest sent me to you. I specifically requested—”

“Whatever you specifically requested,” I snapped, “I will be the one who reads your petition.” Woserit had warned that if I allowed a single petitioner to treat me as though I was less important than Iset, he would leave the palace and tell of my timidity to the others still waiting in line. I looked at the open scroll. The man had come to request entry into the Temple of Amun at Karnak. Commoners were not allowed inside, yet he was requesting a special dispensation to see the High Priest. “What is this for?” I asked him quietly.

“My daughter is sick, and the offerings I’ve placed at our shrines have not been enough.” The old man narrowed his eyes. He watched me pick up the reed pen from the small table at my side, then write across the bottom of his scroll. “You may enter the temple,” I said.

The old man stepped back as if to see me better. “I was alive during the time of Amarna,” he said. “I saw the Heretic break the statues of Amun and murder the god’s priests.”

I tightened my fist around his petition. “And what does that have to do with me?”

The man squinted up into my face. “You look like your aunt.”

I suppressed the strong desire to ask him how. Was it my nose, my lips, my high cheekbones, my build? But I knew what he was trying to imply, and instead, I shoved the scroll at him and said darkly, “Go. Go before I change my mind!”

Ramesses glanced at me instead of paying attention to his own petitioner, and his look was one of pity, not admiration. I felt the fire in my stomach spread.

“Next!” Whatever happens, keep smiling, Woserit had warned. A farmer came forward and I smiled beautifully. “Your petition?” He held out his scroll. I read it, then looked down at the man. His kilt had been neatly pressed for the occasion, and he was wearing leather sandals instead of papyrus. “You come from Thebes and wish to claim access to your neighbor’s well? And why should your neighbor grant you this access?”

“Because I have given his cows grazing in my fields! I have no water on my land and I want something in return.”

“So if he will not give you water, stop giving his cows feed.”

“My son would let the beasts starve! And he would do it to spite me!”

I sat back on my throne. “Your neighbor is your son?”

“I gave him a piece of my land when he married, and now he won’t give me access to my well because of his wife!”

“What’s wrong with his wife?”

“She is against me!” he cried. “When I told my son I didn’t want a harlot like her for a daughter, he married her anyway. And now the girl wants to ruin me,” he raged.

The viziers stopped to watch us, but I resisted the temptation to see which had sent the farmer to me. “And what has your daughter-in-law done to make you think that she is unfaithful?”

“She has slept with half of Thebes. She knows it as well as Ma’at! My son’s heirs might be any man’s children, and now she won’t even give me access to my land!”