The Falcon Rises (The Desert Queen Book 2) Page 11

  Horemheb and Nefret entered the outer court. Even from this distance I could see she made a striking figure. Slowly the pair walked down the aisle, and thankfully the girl did not gawk about her as if she were some farmhand. The people whispered, and she pretended not to hear them; as they approached, I sensed my son tensing. Yes, even he had an eye for beauty despite all of his religious ideas. Huya stood and performed a new song.

  “In the name of Pharaoh Amenhotep, may he live forever, we welcome you, Horemheb, friend of Egypt.”

  As a dutiful and regular attendee of this court, Horemheb answered, matching Huya’s cadence and tone. “It is with gratitude and a humble heart that I come here today into the court of my sovereign, Pharaoh Amenhotep, may he live forever.”

  “Friend of Egypt, what is your business here today?” Huya asked plainly with no song.

  “Today I bring to court my niece the mekhma of the Meshwesh, Queen Nefret.”

  Amenhotep accepted her into his court by saying, “You are welcome in my court and in the court of my father, Queen Nefret.” Respectfully the girl bowed her head slowly and showed deference to the greater monarch. I was pleased that she knew her place and did not need to be reminded to bow to her betters.

  “Queen Nefret is the daughter of my brother Semkah and the Princess of Grecia, Kadeema.”

  “Stop!” I said firmly, shocking the crowd into silence. It was not customary for queens, even Great Queens, to interrupt a formal occasion. Still, this was why we were here today. “Is it not true that Kadeema, Princess of Grecia, the mother of Nefret, walked into the desert and disappeared?”

  Surprised by my question, Horemheb stuttered and said, “Yes, Great Queen, that is true.”

  “There is no need to pretend any longer, no need to hide her identity, Horemheb, for I know the truth. She is safe now. I know who this Queen truly is.” Horemheb wisely kept his mouth shut.

  “Ever since I heard of this Queen, I knew the truth. And my historians have been hard at work to prove what I suspected.” I leaned forward on my throne and looked down at the two of them. “This Kadeema, the beauty who disappeared in the desert, was not human. She was Isis, the goddess. For a time, she made herself wife to Semkah, the King of the Meshwesh.”

  I enjoyed hearing the gasps in the gallery. Even the wide-eyed girl looked surprised by my words. With a small smile I asked Horemheb, “Do you know who I am?” Without waiting for an answer I continued, “I am Isis incarnate, her representative in this realm. And this girl is my daughter.” Despite my warning, I heard Sitamen gasp. I would deal with her later. I turned my attention to the waiting crowd. “Do you believe me? Huya, come now. Read the lineage! Let all hear the truth and welcome my daughter! Finally I can reveal what has been hidden all these years.”

  “Tell us, Great Queen, what have you found?” Amenhotep’s deep voice boomed across the gallery. “Let us hear this lineage so that we may also welcome the daughter of Isis.”

  As Huya began to read the lineage, the court became more excited. At the end of the reading they clapped their hands respectfully, accepting the lineage that had been written.

  Amenhotep spoke again, “Today I welcome you, Neferneferuaten Nefertiti. And as the Great Queen gladly receives you into her family as her daughter, so I receive you as my sister. From this day forward you shall be treated with respect and shall be loved by all of Egypt.” Huya walked toward Nefret, dismissing Horemheb with a wave of his hand. He led her to Amenhotep, who then took her hand and turned her to face the crowd. She smiled and nodded gracefully to the gathering.

  “I shall call you Nefertiti, for truly a beautiful woman has come. Welcome, sister.” Then Amenhotep did the unthinkable. He led her up the steps and invited her to stand beside him.

  “My sister. You are most welcome here.”

  The crowd erupted in loud applause again, and many people shouted her new name joyfully. While Nefertiti enjoyed the waves of applause and admiration, I caught my enemy’s eye. She did not nod in respect as was the tradition when the Great Wife looked at you or acknowledged you in any way. Queen Tadukhipa’s face was a mask. A hard, dangerous mask. Amenhotep invited Nefertiti to stand beside him as he sat again upon his throne.

  Just as directed, the court dancers and musicians entered and the celebration continued. All the while Nefertiti kept her composure just as if she had always been there. Music played loudly as the artists twirled and bent their lithe bodies to the tune in homage to the newly revealed daughter of Isis. When the dance was over I stood next to her and said, “Nefertiti, I recognize you as my daughter.” In response Nefertiti made the sign of Isis, acknowledging publicly that she accepted the lineage that was read and accepted her place in the court of Thebes. I stared into her beautiful green eyes and gave her a small smile as we enjoyed the adulation pouring in from the court and beyond. The crowd had grown beyond the courts. Word had gotten out that the daughter of Isis had returned home to her mother and her court. It was a day of celebration.

  I spotted a scarlet-robed courier pushing his way through the crowd, and my heart pounded. He traveled quickly to the throne and waited to be recognized by Huya. In our court, the wearing of scarlet indicated a very select order of trusted messengers. I held my breath as the courier came closer. Amenhotep waved the crowd quiet. “And what message do you bring?” The courier hesitated, but only for a moment.

  “Alas, son of the great King Amenhotep. I bring the saddest news. Your father, King of Upper and Lower Egypt, heir of Ra, son of Ra, Amenhotep, ruler of deeds, beloved of Amun-Re, King of the gods and Lord of the Cataract, Giver of Life, has passed from this world’s realm.” The servant fell to his knees with his head bowed and waited on word from his sovereign. I gasped at the news. My husband and beloved was gone from me, never to be held in my arms again. I felt the weight of grief fall upon me, threatening to crush me before all who were gathered in this place. In a moment, what should have been the first day of a long celebration turned into an endless agony. Wailing and weeping broke out in the court. My son walked quickly through the silent court out of my chambers, probably to return to his father’s palace. The court emptied in a matter of minutes. As the people left, I stared after them. Memre, my faithful servant, the one assigned to care for my new daughter, whisked the girl away. The once full court was empty now except for Kiya. She stood at the other end of the lower dais, and our eyes were fixed upon one another for the longest of moments. Both our hearts were broken, but I made no gesture of comfort to her. I’d had to share Amenhotep while he lived, but I would not do so in death. She offered none to me either. I spun on my heel and left her alone. At this very second, my beloved was preparing for his trip to the land of Osiris.

  With wisdom, my servants moved out of my way, and I walked as quickly as I could into my chambers. I felt the warmth rising in my eyes—I had to find a place to let the tears flow. It was Amenhotep’s last gift to me—to grieve all alone. What a cruel gift! No one could see my tears. No one could witness my heartbreak. This was the will of Pharaoh.

  I remembered the day he said the words to me. The days and weeks after our son Thutmose disappeared into the sands never to be seen again, the palace had wept as one. Tears were flowing constantly, and as mine flowed my heart broke continually. Amenhotep, powerless to help me manage my grief and powerless to save our son, gave the command that no tears should ever be shed in my presence again so great was his love for me.

  Oh, Amenhotep! Do not forget me, my love!

  Chapter Twelve

  The Garden of Life—Nefret

  The court had grown quiet during the long mourning for Amenhotep. I was still a stranger in this strange place. Despite the warm welcome offered to me by Queen Tiye and some of her family, I knew this was not where I belonged. Every night I still dreamed of the desert. I dreamed of the ever shifting sand, the brown, smiling faces of the people I loved. I dreamed of my sister, laughing and confident and happy just to be with me. And of course, I dreamed of Alexio, and every
morning I woke to find my eyes damp with tears. If it had not been for my constant companion, Ayn, I could not imagine how I would have survived these long weeks. Tomorrow would be the fortieth day—the end of the official time of mourning for the late Pharaoh. And from what Memre told me, what would follow would be a sustained period of celebration in honor of the new Pharaoh and son of the deceased king, also named Amenhotep. Since that first day here at the court following my return from Zerzura, I had seen neither Queen Tiye nor her son. On many occasions, however, I did see Sitamen and Kiya, neither of whom deigned to speak to me.

  The court of Amenhotep was a lonely place, but I was used to loneliness. I was used to being counted out. If only I knew what game I was playing—or being forced to play. All I knew was what the Queen had told me. Memre was close-mouthed in regards to what the Great Wife had in mind for me, but I was beginning to see which way the wind blew.

  During the quietness, I had the freedom to explore the Queen’s palace complex. At the centermost part was Pharaoh’s harem. A fine building with colorfully painted columns, many fountains and an abundance of children and women. Some women never left the small palace, but thankfully I was not one of these. They waited on the pleasure of the new pharaoh, and I imagined they thought of ways they could please him and bring themselves into his favor. I had ventured into that inner court only twice but found no friendly faces there. How lonely an existence that must be to wait day after day, week after week in hopes that your husband—or in this case, your royal lover—would visit you and show you some attention? How sad it would be to be one of those women. I prayed that this was not my fate.

  Today, Ayn was gone on one of her many errands, and I suspected it involved her lover, Ramose. I never told Ayn of my confrontation with him or his threats to me. I could have pleaded my case to her and perhaps even convinced her to help me see Alexio one last time, but I could not bring myself to do that. Ayn was my friend, my only friend now, and I would do nothing to jeopardize that. For without her I would be truly alone. Horemheb, as I now called him, came to visit me once a week, sometimes bringing small trinkets and gifts and always asking for permission to return to Zerzura. I never granted it and never intended to. I supposed one day I would have to let him return and care for his family and see his wife but at the moment it was not in my heart to do so.

  I strolled along an open portico lined with pretty pink and red flowers and enjoyed the sound of droning bees and the smell of citrus fruit. Yesterday, this place had been full of scribes and we had been forbidden to enter. Now the outside wall was painted colorfully and appeared as bright as anything I had ever seen. I had a genuine appreciation for the language of Egypt, much of which involved pictures of strange creatures and bold warriors. They were stories, I was told, and the Egyptians displayed them on almost every wall—even the ceilings of many rooms in the palace.

  Over the past weeks, Memre had done her best to teach me some of the words and meanings of these strange symbols. Although I could speak the language as well as any, the writing was a challenge for me. However, I kept at it. I was a storyteller at heart and enjoyed the idea of telling stories with pictures. I stood along the end of the wall and stared up at the figures before me at the center of the action. I could see a tall, thin woman with an elaborate headdress. She wore a blue gown and golden sandals. She was surrounded by rays from the sun, and under her feet was a cartouche. Looking around I saw no one in the immediate area and set about trying to decipher what I saw for myself.

  Nf…ger…

  I heard the sound of tools working in the soil nearby. There were frequently gardeners in this area, but I had not seen any earlier. I was surprised to spot one now. Thinking to leave without getting him or myself into trouble, I turned to walk away, but the gardener called after me.

  “You there.” I turned and saw him wave at me. I waved back politely, not thinking to linger, but he said again, “You there. Do you need help?”

  “No help. I was just looking.”

  Taking no refusals, the gardener ambled toward me, leaving his tool in the rich soil of the garden. He was tall and muscular, quite different looking than the eunuchs. “It is no bother. Do you like it?” He pointed to the wall.

  So surprised was I that he would speak with me, I stammered a yes. “I do like it,” I said, adding with a smile, “but I do not understand its meaning.”

  “I did not mean to eavesdrop, but I could tell you were struggling with some of the phrases here.” He pointed to the cartouche and gave me a friendly smile, and for some reason I felt completely comfortable with him. How strange.

  “I was that bad?”

  “No, not at all. You see this phrase—the very first one? This is the sound.” He pronounced the letters, and we pieced them together. I was surprised to hear that the name was Nefertiti.

  “That is me!”

  With a delighted smile he said, “Yes, Majesty.”

  I gazed up at the wall. “What does it say?”

  “It says: Beloved sister of Amenhotep, Neferneferuaten, Beautiful of the Beauties of the Aten. This wall is a tribute to you—to your beauty. It is a declaration from Pharaoh to the world. He placed it here because he wanted all who visit this garden to see the beauty of his new sister, the loveliest of blooms.”

  I could not believe my ears. Why would Pharaoh care to do this? “I do not deserve such a gift. I hardly know what to say. Although I’m grateful, I do not understand Pharaoh’s generosity.”

  The gardener nodded. “It must be difficult to be in a new place, to know very few people. The answer, however, is very simple. Pharaoh wanted to honor his mother’s daughter. Just appreciate his gift. That is all that is required.”

  “I do. We do not have such beautiful art as this where I am from. I am sure my tribe would be astonished to see it.” My comment elicited a laugh from the gardener.

  “Is this place so different?”

  “Oh, yes. Yes, it is. For example, if I were home I would not be spending my days walking gardens or learning this language.”

  “What would you be doing?”

  “I would teach my treasures to climb trees, swim in the pool with my friends, listen to the traders tell their stories.” I had not meant to sound so sad. “Forgive me for speaking so. I did not mean—”

  “No apologies are necessary.” Then he added, “Did you have a large family? Many brothers?”

  “No, I had no brothers. I had a sister once.” Strangely enough it, was not Pah I thought of but Paimu, the little girl who loved me and trusted me. Until I left her behind. How I missed her. How I wished she could be here with me. She would have loved to see this place. I turned my attention back to the colorful painting.

  “Tell me, sir, what do these mean, what is this? It is a strange sign to me, so forgive my ignorance.”

  “That is the symbol of the Aten. It illuminates all who see it and appreciate it. As you can see here, the Aten has surrounded Pharaoh’s new sister, enveloping her in its warmth and light.”

  I studied it, not knowing what to think or say. Impulsively I touched the stone, tracing the ray that streamed from my hand to the symbols beneath it. “Do your people worship the Aten, then?”

  “All should, but only some do. What about your people?”

  “There may be some who do. Like Egyptians, the Meshwesh are free to worship whomever they choose. Some worship their ancestors, others worship the gods of Egypt and others worship tribal deities like Ma’at. Here it seems kings and queens are gods. That is very strange to me.”

  “And whom do you worship, Nefertiti?”

  I chewed my lip as I looked up into his bare face. It was strange to see someone who did not wear kohl or wear his skin oiled. “No one in particular. I once dreamed of someone I thought was a god. He was a Shining Man, and he came to me in my dream speaking very kindly. And when he left me, I felt at peace. I’ve never seen him with my eyes awake, and his visits in my dreams are very few. Sometimes I wonder if perhaps I did not
imagine him.”

  “Tell me more about the Shining Man.” I told him a few things that I saw in my dreams, and I was comforted to know I had someone to talk to besides Ayn. Ayn did not enjoy talking about spiritual things. Once she had worshiped our ancestors but no more. Now here I was talking to a strange man in the garden about things I had not spoken to another living soul.

  “I think you may be surprised with our new Pharaoh. He does not agree with many of the old ways and does not consider himself to be a god, although many around him want to bestow that honor upon him.” In a soft, deep voice he added, “He worships the Aten—the Giver of Life.”

  “I must learn more about the Aten so I may speak to Pharaoh about the things he loves. If I ever see him again.”

  In a whisper he asked, “Would you like to see him again?”

  “Yes, I would.”

  Someone was calling my name, and I turned to see who it was. I did not recognize the person but could see that he would not go away. I turned to say goodbye to the friendly gardener, but he was gone. I spun about and saw that even the gardener’s tool had disappeared. I walked back to the steps to see what the man wanted.

  “Yes, may I help you?”

  “The Queen wishes to see you. Please follow me.” I walked a long distance to a part of the palace I had never visited before. The eunuch opened the door, and to my surprise Queen Tiye was not in the room. Instead I saw the beautiful face of Tadukhipa, the one some people called Kiya. As we had not been formally introduced, I did not address her but merely stood in the doorway waiting for her instructions.

  “Do not dawdle in the doorway, Desert Queen. Come in and take this bowl. Make sure my guests have been offered something to eat.”

  I did as she asked against my better judgment. The few times we had crossed paths in the past few weeks, I got the distinct impression that this woman did not like me and that her dislike was equal to my indifference. I could not understand why I had earned such a determined enemy, but I was often surprised by the women around me. Even my own sister.