CHAPTER 22
Senemut was not dead, but he might as wellhave been, for all the royal physician could do for him. Thephysician placed sacred scarabs carved from alabaster and othercharms on various parts of his body, chanted prayers to numerousgods, and fastened a protective bracelet around each wrist. When,at last, he attempted to place a noxious-smelling salve on thewound, Hattie could stand no more. She ordered him out of the roomand he left, though he cast more than one perplexed glance behindhim.
“Blast this primitive culture,” she mutteredwhen he had gone. “Senemut, I am sorry, but you will have to makedo with me as your physician. My own physician is no better than awitch doctor. I vow on my life I will save you, my dearest love. Iwill not lose you now!”
Senemut groaned, but didn’t open his eyes. Helay in her bed, where she had bade the guards carry him, floatingin and out of consciousness. At least the bleeding had stopped.
Gently, Hattie stripped the torn andbloodstained cloak and kilt from his body. Then, using a bowl ofwater and a clean linen rag, she bathed the wound as best shecould. It was high up on the left side of his chest. It was amiracle it had missed his heart and, apparently, his lungs as well.It seemed to be a clean thrust, and she prayed that meant therewould be no infection.
“Senemut, I must disinfect your wound,” shemurmured, not knowing if he could hear her. “I fear it will hurt,and for that, I am sorry. But it must be done.” Wincing, she poureda small amount of wine directly over the wound, then blotted thearea and poured a bit more. Senemut made no sound…he wasunconscious again. Sighing, Hattie took clean strips of linen andbound the injury as best she could. What she wouldn’t give for somepenicillin!
Senemut was deathly pale, and he had lost agreat deal of blood. Since there was no possibility of a bloodtransfusion, Hattie knew all she could do was try to keep the woundclean and free from infection, and get some nourishment into him sohis body could concentrate all its energies on healing. But whatfood would be best? What food could he tolerate? Certainly, hecouldn’t sit up and chew.
She called for her head chef. He came to heralmost at once. “I want you to prepare something special andnourishing for Lord Senemut,” she said.
“Of course, Your Majesty. What shall I make?”he asked, bowing.
“Take a good piece of beef. Take care that ithas little fat on it. Put it in a pot and cover it with water;then, cover the pot and cook it over the fire until the meat fallsfrom the bones.”
The chef nodded. “And shall I bring you thisboiled meat?”
Hattie shook her head. “Nay. Use the specialsieve my baker uses to sift the flour, and strain the meat andbones from the broth. Take care you save the broth in a cleancontainer, and bring it to me. You may discard the meat and bones,or use the meat as you choose in another dish.”
“Just the liquid, Your Majesty?” The chefseemed puzzled. “Surely, there is more nourishment in the meatitself, or in the bone marrow?”
“Aye, you may be correct,” she said. “ButLord Senemut will only be able to tolerate liquids for some timeyet, I fear.”
“As you wish, Radiant One. I shall see to itimmediately.” The chef bowed again and departed.
For the next three days, Hattie didn’t leaveSenemut’s side. She bathed and dressed his wound several times aday, and fed him spoonfuls of broth whenever he appeared conscious.She slept in a chair next to the low bed, one arm draped across himso she would awaken immediately if he moved or needed something.Nesi stayed on guard outside the door, turning away visitors andresponding promptly to Hattie’s every request.
On the evening of the third day, Senemutappeared to be resting easier and his color was much improved.Hattie dropped off into a deep slumber, her first real sleep sincehe had been stabbed.
Hattie awoke to the sound of birds singing.She opened her eyes a slit. Sunlight streamed in through the highwindow of her room. Gasping, she leapt to a stand. How could shehave slept the night through without checking once on Senemut?
She looked down on him, fearful of what shemight find. His eyes were open and he watched her with a faintsmile. “Must you make so much noise in the room of a sick man?” hewhispered. “Your leaping about makes my head pound.” He winked.
“Senemut!” She dropped to her knees next tothe bed and took his hand, pressing it to her cheek. “Thank Amun,you are awake! How do you feel?”
“I feel as if a hippopotamus has been usingme for a chair,” he grumbled. Then his expression softened. “I havehad strange dreams and visions, but in all of them you were there,safeguarding me. I thank you for my life. I know I owe it to youand your vigilance.”
Hattie stroked his forehead. “You will be allright now. Your wound is healing. You are fortunate it pierced novital organs. All you need is nourishing food and rest.”
“I have rested enough,” he said. “But food…Iconfess, I am hungry enough to eat a crocodile.”
“I can remedy that.” Hattie clapped her handsand Nesi appeared at once.
“Aye, Majesty?”
“Bring some of the special bread, roastedfish, and wine for Lord Senemut,” she told the servant.
Nesi scurried away and soon returned with thetray of food. Hattie helped Senemut maneuver to a semi-uprightposition, then fed him morsels of food and sips of wine. At last,he raised his hand. “I cannot hold more,” he said with a sigh.“That was the best meal I can recall.”
“I am so happy to see you awake and eating,”Hattie said. “You will grow stronger now, and soon you will be backon your feet. Senemut, I was afraid I would lose you.” She claspedhis hand and pressed it to her heart. “I could not survive withoutyou! Promise me you will be more careful in the future.”
“Aye, Your Majesty. I promise,” he said,smiling.
