Drinker Of Blood

'It's too dangerous,' Meren said as Naram-Sin began to push him toward the guard. 'If they catch you-'

'If they catch you, Othrys will kill me. Now go!'

Naram-Sin whirled and ran back the way they'd come. At the same time, the guard grabbed Meren's arm and hauled him down the alley into another passageway. As they ran, Meren heard more shouting, then the sound of running, closer and closer. The guard stopped and shoved Meren ahead of him into a doorway.

'Stay still,' the man hissed. 'Not a move until they pass.' The guard stepped into the middle of the alley, turned his back, and looked over his shoulder as their pursuers came into view. Then he fled. Meren pressed himself against dry old wood and held his breath as five men with knives and scimitars hurtled toward him.

Chapter 19

Thebes, the independent reign of the pharaoh Akhenaten

A year, an entire year-Inundation, Emergence, Harvest- and she still lived. Nefertiti sat in a small audience chamber and stared blankly at one of the frescoes in the Theban royal palace. Her little girls were gone, one by one. All but Merytaten and Ankhesenpaaten. Gone. First Meketaten had caught an ague that worsened until she could no longer breathe. Then a plague had swept out of the northern empire to strike Egypt, taking her youngest ones, even the littlest, Setepenre.

That plague had scourged Nefertiti's heart and left her empty and writhing in agony. All her prayers, those of the priests and physicians, had come to naught. The gods had abandoned her.

Ay had convinced Akhenaten that she needed to get away from the palace and the city where she had lost her children, and so her father had brought her to visit her sister. Nefertiti cared not where she was. The pain was the same. Ay fussed at her, urging her to eat, to go out, to sail in the royal barge. These things she could not do. There was no reason to do them.

Her father had taken on many of her duties, as had Merytaten. Akhenaten sent an endless stream of letters full of worry, full of comfort, all useless. His grief did not touch her, and for that she felt guilty. He had loved the girls as much as she, and without her, he had no one with whom he could share his torment. But she was empty and exhausted. If she had to endure his clinging sorrow, she would go mad.

The gods had abandoned her. What other explanation was there for the loss of so many innocents in so short a time? She had prayed to them all-Amun, Mut, Osiris, Ra, but especially to Isis, the mother of all the gods. Her babies had died anyway. And only now, months past that time of destruction, was she beginning to understand the reason the gods had abandoned her. She and her husband had rejected the origin of all existence, the power from which all creation issued- Amun, the hidden power of life, the unknowable source. Without the king of the gods, she was doomed, as were her remaining children. All was blackness and chaos.

She heard a noise and glanced up to find her father walking toward her. She hadn't noticed his arrival, although her attendants must have announced him. Forcing herself to pay attention to him, she even managed a partial smile of greeting. Ay didn't smile back. He marched over to her.

Mooring himself in front of her chair, he said, 'Daughter, I love you too much to allow you to commit self- annihilation.' When she merely sighed, he continued. 'You're still a mother, and more important, you're still queen of Egypt. Like you, Akhenaten is submerged in his grief, but unlike you he has sought refuge with the Ateri. His withdrawal grows with the days, and Egypt suffers.' Bending down, Ay put his hand on hers. 'You're stronger than this, stronger than pharaoh.'

Nefertiti shook off her father's hand. 'There's nothing inside me. My ka is empty.' She scowled at Ay. 'Besides, I've had enough of standing between pharaoh and the world. Why must I be the shield and bear the burdens, take all the blows?'

'Because you are the great royal wife, and pharaoh will heed no other in all of Egypt.' Ay crouched before Nefertiti and bent on her an intense, urgent look. 'Your lot has been hard, your grief as immense as the desert, but you must accept what has happened and continue with the tasks we've set for ourselves.'

Nefertiti closed her eyes. 'I can't.'

'Remember that priest, the one you mercifully dispatched? I know you had his name secretly carved on a wall in Amun's temple. Because of you, his ka won't perish.' Ay put a hand on her cheek. 'Without you Egypt will suffer; children like your own will suffer. Something must be done to bring order before the kingdom drowns in chaos. Remember those who suffer because the temples have been closed.'

She looked away. 'Yes. I remember, Father. But I have no strength inside me.'

'Shall I bring a few hungry children to the palace?' Ay asked. 'Perhaps the sight of their protruding ribs and great, dull eyes will give you strength.'

'The gods have abandoned me. They've abandoned Egypt.'

Abruptly, her father stood and shouted at her, 'Then what will you do about it?'

Nefertiti started and blinked at him. It had been many years since anyone had dared yell at her.

'Do about it?'

Ay didn't answer.

'Do something about it,' she repeated. Her fingers drummed on the arm of her chair, and an almost imperceptible glimmer of light entered her ka. She fixed Ay with a sharp stare. 'You know what you're saying?'

He nodded.

'Then arrange it. It must be done now, while I'm in Thebes and away from pharaoh.'

Three days after the confrontation with her father, Nefertiti feigned illness from lack of food and took to her bed. That night Ay's most trusted guards were ordered to duty at the palace, with Sebek in command. When the moon set, Nefertiti rose and dressed, donning a cloak and a short wig that made her look like one of her personal maids. Sebek and another guard were waiting outside her quarters. Her head bowed, she followed them through the quiet palace, into the pleasure gardens, and out of the royal precinct.

They went to the river, where a yacht awaited them. Nefertiti led the way across the gangplank, and as she stepped on board, her father came out of the deckhouse to meet her.

'You weren't followed?' he asked.

Nefertiti glanced back at Sebek, who shook his head.

'Come,' Ay said.

They entered the deckhouse, and Nefertiti was visited by memories of her childhood. The chamber was furnished much as it had been then, with intricately woven mats on the floor, wall hangings embroidered in the city of Babylon, and an abundance of floor cushions. Ay's chair stood beside a table, and there was the little folding stool she'd used. Its seat was crafted of ebony and ivory to resemble a leopard skin. Nefertiti contemplated the spots while her finger traced the slick ivory.

Ay left her in the deckhouse, alone except for a slave, one who had been with her family since before Nefertiti had been born, to fan her and serve food. The slave held out a tray laden with beef, mutton, and spiced duck. Nefertiti shook her head and dismissed the woman.

She wished she could sit on the folding stool, but her place was in Ay's chair. Throwing her cloak over her shoulders, Nefertiti sat and arranged her gown around her legs. With the ease of many years' practice, she assumed the posture of a queen, arms draped along the chair arms, chin high, expression distant.

The door opened, and her father came in with a man dressed in a kilt and frayed overrobe, the pleats of which had long ago lost their fine edge. The visitor's head was devoid of hair except for wispy strands of silver that stood up from his scalp and fringed the side and back of his skull. His eyes were small, and his nose jutted forward. It dominated the receding mouth and chin. Small ears hugged close to his head. The rest of him was thin and frail.

Nefertiti felt a sting of pity, for the man was quivering like jostled yogurt. 'You may speak.'

'Great queen, I am from the Hidden One.' The man shrank back and trembled more violently.

'Fear not,' she said. 'We're safe here.'

The priest seemed to try to melt into the deck. 'Danger is never far from servants of the Hidden One.' He licked his lips. 'I am Shedamun.'