To Hattie, the trip was a magical interlude,one sleepy sunlit day drifting into the next.
Senemut proved to be a most interestingtravel companion, telling story after story of Egypt, her pharaohs,and her people. He seemed to know the story behind every imposingmonument and obscure temple they passed. They lounged together atthe rail, the days filled with laughter and wonder, while shesketched the oarsmen at work, fishermen casting their nets, farmersworking in the fields, crocodiles sprawling on the sandbanks.
And when she caught him unaware, she drewSenemut’s profile, outlined against setting sun. At night, inHattie’s cabin, they dined together on fish and honey cakes anddrank date wine. She couldn’t remember ever having known suchhappiness, or such peace. She seemed to be living in a dream.
But all sleepers awake, all dreams end, andthis one would end shortly. The flotilla of ships would reach theSecond Cataract the following day and the great Egyptian fort atBuhen, two hundred miles south of where their journey had begun.Then, the battle would begin in earnest. Hattie rubbed her arms,suddenly chilled despite the stifling afternoon heat.
Preparations for the campaign had been swift.Soldiers were mustered, chariots, horses, equipment, troops, androwers loaded onto sailing ships, and the journey south to Nubiacommenced. The prevailing wind from the north meant that theoarsmen had little work to do, simply resting on their oars andbiding their time in case the wind should change or drop.
Only one part of the journey had beendifficult. A stretch of rapids at the First Cataract proved muchtoo violent to allow safe passage by ship, forcing the army andcrew members to disembark, haul the vessels ashore by brute force,and drag them six miles farther south to bypass the rapids.
Hattie suggested harnessing the horses to theships and allowing them to help with the task, but General Snefruinsisted the horses’ strength be saved for the battle. The effectsof the close confinement aboard ship would be enough for them tobear.
Senemut tried to convince Hattie to remainaboard the Avenging Falcon while the men dragged it past the rapids. She refused. Ifshe expected the generals and common soldiers to respect her, shecouldn’t afford to project the image of a soft, pampered woman.Instead, she traveled the six miles on foot, braving the swelteringheat and brutal desert sun to march at the head of her soldiers andcrewmen, wearing the blue crown of war. Though none dared speak toher, she saw approval shining in her troops’ eyes, making everyblister and aching muscle a badge of honor. Even Senemut, forced toadmit that she was correct, nodded his approval.
Hattie had only one day left in which to restand mentally prepare for the combat to come. Thinking of theimpending battle made her stomach twitch. Trying to divert herthoughts, she turned to Senemut. “Tell me about your childhood. Iknow little about you. You have told me stories of everyone saveyourself.”
Senemut smiled. “I fear there is not much totell. I was born in Armant, south of Thebes. I have three brothers,Amenemhat, Minhotep and Pairy, and two sisters, Ahhotep andNofret-Hor. We were not wealthy, but we were comfortable. My fathersaw to it that we each received a good education, the best he couldprovide.
“I joined the army, participated in acampaign or two, and distinguished myself enough to catch the eyeof a highly-placed temple official.” He shrugged. “So I wastransferred to an administrative position in the temple of Amun atKarnak, where I found favor in the eyes of your husband, the GreatGod. You know the rest.”
No, I don’t, Hattie thought. But I don’t dare push my luck byadmitting it. “Thatsounds so…official. So lonely. Did you not havefriends?”
He shook his head. “I had acquaintances. Idid not have time for friends.”
“And you never married?”
“Nay.”
“Why not?”
Senemut turned from his absorbed study ofthe Nile to look into her eyes. “Because I never found a woman withwhom I wanted to share my home and my life. Or mayhap, I neverfound a woman with whom I could share my life.”
Hattie tingled all over from the warmth ofhis gaze. “What do you mean? Surely, you could choose any woman inall Egypt.” She smiled. “I have seen the way the noblewomen fawnover you! You could have any of them.”
Senemut turned from her with a sigh andresponded in a voice so soft, she was not certain whether she heardit with her ears, or with her heart. “Any woman, save the one Idesire.”
Hattie longed for him with a sudden, fierceache that she had never felt before. She wanted to seize him, coverhis face with kisses, breathe in his scent. She wanted to tell himthat she would marry him and bear his children. She reached out tohim with a moan, but before she could touch him, she jerked herhand back.
It wasn’t fair to become involved with him.She didn’t belong in this time, and she had no intention ofstaying. As soon as she located the necklace, she would do her bestto return to the twenty-first century immediately. The last thingshe wanted to do was to leave him behind, grieving for her—or worseyet, to find himself suddenly confronted with the real Hatshepsut,a woman who might not be in love with him, who perhaps did not wanthim in the way he wanted her.
Hattie had no way of knowing what wouldhappen to the body of Hatshepsut when she fled it to return to herown time. She still wasn’t certain if the presence she had felt onseveral occasions was a ghost or her imagination. If a ghost, wouldHatshepsut’s spirit return from the land of the dead when Hattiereturned to Chicago? Rejection might be harder for Senemut to bearthan outright loss; neither would be pleasant.
Honesty compelled Hattie to admit she didn’twant to grieve for Senemut either. She wanted to return to hertidy, comfortable life with no strings left hanging, nothing out ofplace. So she vowed to do
