At last, the hubbub died down a little, andNeshi turned to look up at Hattie. He raised his staff andbowed.
Hattie rose. “Go forth to the land of Punt,”she said, her arms outstretched to the caravan below, though sheknew they couldn’t hear her words. “Amun will lead you, by land andby water, to the mysterious shores of the fabled land. Trade withthe inhabitants you find there, for the glory of Hatshepsut and ofall Egypt. Return with incense trees for my father Amun’s temple,and all manner of goods. May Amun guide and protect you on yourperilous voyage!” She held aloft the sacred crook and flail,crossed, in blessing.
Neshi bowed again, then turned and shouted acommand to the cart drivers. They flicked their whips and the cartslurched forward as the oxen plodded away from Thebes and into thedesert. They had a long, grueling journey of a hundred miles ormore through the eastern desert before they reached the Red Sea,where they would assemble the boats and travel south to findPunt.
Hattie sank down gratefully into a smallstool. “At last they are underway,” she murmured. “Now we can getout of the heat.”
“You are certain they will return?” Senemutasked her for the hundredth time since she had proposed theexcursion. “The journey is long and dangerous, even before theyreach the sea. And the sea itself is a treacherous place to sendany man. More dangerous by far than the battlefield.”
“But you travel in ships on the Nile, and donot think it dangerous,” she protested. “Why are Egyptians soafraid of the Red Sea?”
“The Nile is our mother. It provides us withfood for our table and clothing for our bodies. But the sea—thisRed Sea, as you call it—is vast and uncharted, and full of unknowndangers.” Senemut shook his head. “You call it Red. Mayhap it isred with the blood of all the men it has swallowed up?”
She tried to stifle a grin. “Nay, I am sureit is due to a mineral deposit, something that is red in color.Nothing more sinister than that. Aye, they will return safely,though the voyage will take nearly a year. I promise, Senemut.”
Senemut looked unconvinced. “I will hold youto that promise, Hattie,” he said.
CHAPTER 21
“Ai, she will ruin us!” Snefru moaned bitterly, hishead in his hands. “I come home from months of training to find shehas chosen her first official act. And what is that act? Acampaign…against Syria, mayhap, which grows overbold? A newtaxation to fill Egypt’s coffers? Even a new temple for herself?”He shook his head. “Nay. She chooses a trading expedition—to Punt!A land that only exists in tales to frighten small children. By allthe gods, she will make Egypt a laughing stock.”
“Have patience, friend,” Hapuseneb said,gripping Snefru’s arm and shaking it. “She but ties the rope moresecurely around her own neck. The nobles are aghast at this wantonwaste of men and resources and, as you know, the army growsrestless for lack of action. They have not seen battle since thecampaign in Nubia. When her little expedition returnsempty-handed—or when they fail to return at all—the peasants willturn on her as well. It has been many months since the expeditiondeparted, and there has been no hint of its return.”
“But the peasants love her,” Snefru put in.“There is no explanation for it, but the fact exists. She has thestrong support of the commoners, and that is a point we must notoverlook. They throng the streets whenever she appears. They throwlotus blossoms at her feet. And they love Senemut, who is one oftheir own, yet has risen to greatness.”
“Aye, they love her because she iskindto them.” Hapuseneb pronounced“kind” as if it were a curse. To be kind was the last quality apharaoh should exhibit. “She provides bread for their hungrybellies, clothes for their scantily-clad bodies. But they donot respect her. Toearn respect, pharaoh must be firm and commanding, strong andruthless. Not weak and soft. When her expedition fails, they willsee this. I expect news any day that the expedition has beendestroyed in wild foreign lands.”
“Mayhap,” Snefru muttered. “But it may not beso easy to sway the minds of the peasants. They are a stolid andsingularly unimaginative lot, and as you said, she feeds andclothes them.”
“Just to be safe, we will not wait for newsthat her foolish expedition to Punt has failed. Tonight, we willput our primary plan into action.”
Snefru rose from his stool, a wide grinspreading across his face. “You mean…?”
Hapuseneb chuckled. Trust Snefru to beenthusiastic about any type of action, regardless of the endresult. “Aye. Tonight, her favorite, the common-born Senemut,dies.”
* * *
Hattie heard a polite cough outside herchambers. “Come in,” she said.
An unfamiliar servant entered and bowed low.The palace was overrun with servants. There was no way to recognizeeach and every one.
“What is it? You may rise.”
“Majesty, the Lord Senemut, Steward of Amun,bids you join him in Your Highness’s private lotus garden for anevening walk,” the servant said, keeping his face averted fromhers. He spoke as if he had carefully rehearsed his lines.
“He does?” Hattie frowned. “Why did he notsay as much to me? Why does he send a messenger?”
“I know not, Divine One,” the servantmurmured. “I have only done as I was instructed…nothing more.”
“Of course, of course,” Hattie said. Most ofthe servants were afraid to speak in her presence; at least thisone answered her questions. “Thank you. You may go.”
The servant bowed deeply, turned and left theroom.
“Why did he not come here and ask mehimself?” Hattie said aloud. Shrugging, she slipped on her sandalsand snatched a white woolen cloak from a carved cedar chest.Egyptian night air was sometimes chilly. Wrapping the cloak aroundher, she hastened to the entrance of the private walled garden.
The air in the garden was delightfully cool,and carried the scent of lotus blossoms that crowded the small,rectangular pool. Ducks and geese quacked and flapped their wingsas they settled down for the night on the grassy banks of the pool.Acacia, date palm and fig trees nodded around the borders of thetiny garden, adding deep shadows to the already-murkyenvironment.
In the dim light of the crescent moon,
