The Song of the Bee-Eater (The Desert Queen Book 4) Page 7

  Now was the time for vengeance. Yes, let them all burn with my vengeance!

  Chapter Nine

  The Gift of the Bee-Eater—Nefertiti

  “The Great Queen of Amenhotep is dead! The mother of our Pharaoh has passed! Weep and wail, Egypt!” The somber call rang in my ears before I fully woke. Then my young servant girls were around me, Menmet’s face the picture of sadness although I could hardly believe she felt that way about Tiye’s passing. I sat up in my bed and listened as she gave me the full report. The old woman had died last night; her room had been full of bats, so many that even now the palace servants were beating the animals out of the curtains and drapes where they liked to hide from the sun.

  “This is Tadukhipa’s work!” I whispered, drawing the blanket up around my face before I began weeping. As my own mother had died shortly after my birth, Tiye was the only mother I’d known. I wept with my ladies. Finally I wiped away the tears and said, “Oh, Akhenaten! I must go to him. His heart must be broken.”

  Menmet shooed the others away and raised her dainty hand in warning. “No, lady. Our Pharaoh does not wish to see anyone. He has hidden himself away in his mother’s tomb. He oversees the preparations for her journey to the Otherworld.”

  “Surely he would want me by his side. I am the Great Queen!” I said defensively, knowing that I would never go against my husband’s explicit instructions. “Did you truly hear this from Akhenaten’s servant?”

  “Yes, my queen. He has also refused Ipy and the other queens. Except Tadukhipa. She is mourning with him.”

  “I am sure she is,” I said as I climbed out of the bed. “No gold today. I will wear colors of mourning, Menmet. As will you all. Put away anything that shines. We will not parade about in gold and silver while our mother, the Mother of Egypt, makes her passage to the Otherworld. Tell the others.”

  She bowed her head and scooted away to make my wishes known to my personal court. I began to weep again. Although it had been a long time since Tiye had been involved with her son’s affairs, I felt alone now. I had no allies here. No one to help me navigate the increasing danger from the Amun priests and those who resented having a Desert Queen as Great Queen of Egypt. I had no time to wallow in sorrow and isolation. I was still Akhenaten’s queen. I would go to the court, go to the people. I would comfort them in this hour of grief. My head itched, but I postponed shaving it again. Secretly, I mourned my hair. I trusted that Pah knew what she was doing, although for the life of me I could not understand the reason for it. But as she indicated, the stars of the royal family were beginning to fall. I could not allow Smenkhkare, Meritaten and Tasherit to disappear into the dark night! Although I rarely saw my daughters anymore, by order of my own husband, I longed for them with all my being. I would do whatever it took to protect them. I trusted Pah to help me protect them.

  Pah must have heard the news. Not fifteen minutes later, her acolyte appeared at my door with a tiny wicker bird cage in her hands. Inside perched a familiar green bird with a hooked beak and nervous eyes. He eyed me suspiciously, as if I’d been the one to stuff him inside his tiny prison. Yes, this was the promised Bee-Eater.

  “What does this mean, lady?” one of my maids whispered.

  With a quick lie I replied, “It is a sign of sympathy often exchanged amongst my people. Let us set him here where he can view the courtyard.” I walked to the open doors of my balcony and positioned the cage on an empty table. I would set him free before I left. Yes, this was the sign that I must move swiftly. I could no longer postpone my plans. I had to begin my escape in earnest, and I would need help. I dressed quickly in a somber black silk dress with a dull black belt. I paced the floor for a few minutes as I chewed on my nail, a bad habit that I had never been able to shake. To involve another would be to seal their doom if we were caught. It was one thing to put my own life in danger but quite another to place someone I loved in similar peril. It would have to be Menmet! Who else could I go to? Memre was dead, and even if she lived I doubted she would help me defy her mistress’ son.

  As I waited on Menmet’s return the bird began to chirp. It was a strange sound to my ears, a sound from my past. How long had it been since I’d allowed myself to think of those days in Timia and Zerzura? After a few more chirps the bird sang steadily, as if his song could set him free. The city around us wept and mourned for Queen Tiye, but the bird sang his persuasive song. A song of hope. A song of defiance. I listened to his message. Like the Bee-Eater I would have to keep my hope and avoid the many birds of prey that called Akhenaten’s court home. I had to! For Smenkhkare, Tasherit and Meritaten!

  “My queen, will you break your fast now?” Menmet arrived with a small plate of food. I rarely ate this early, but it was kind of her to ask.

  “No, Menmet. I will not eat today. I have too much to do. Everyone, leave us.” With a nervous eye, Menmet set the plate down and folded her hands in front of her in a poised position to show she was ready to serve me. “Sit, Menmet.” She sat on the carpet before me. “No, here. Please.” I patted the seat beside me. She sat down, her catlike eyes narrowing slightly.

  “I need your help, Menmet. I have to know, can I trust you?” I searched her eyes as if I would see the truth swimming there in the dark depths.

  “Always you have trusted Menmet, have you not? I have been your constant companion all these years, my queen. It hurts me to think you must ask this question. How may I serve you, lady queen?” Menmet’s soft oriental accent betrayed her origins. It was an echo from her childhood when she lived with her mother far away from the dangerous courts of Thebes and Amarna. I hated her father, but I loved Menmet like a little sister. Sometimes I liked to pretend that she was Paimu, still alive and with me. And despite the fact she was a servant and I could not openly show favoritism, my heart was soft toward her. Would I really put her in this kind of danger? What would I do if she refused me? But she would not refuse. I knew that now.

  “Menmet,” I whispered, leaning closer to her, “I must leave the palace. I cannot tell you more than that except to say it will be soon.”

  “No, lady! This is our home. Where will you go?” She covered her open mouth with her hand, and her eyes widened in surprise. “Why must you leave? Has your husband sent you away?”

  “No, although I am sure he would if he could. It is not that. You saw the stars fall, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, but the High One, Nephthys, told us that it was a fortuitous sign. That Pharaoh’s glory would be shed upon the earth like the stars falling from on high. Is this not true?”

  I shivered at her inclusion of my sister in this conversation. “I cannot speak to that; I only know that I am in danger. My children are in danger. There are shadows moving here in the court, Menmet, shadows that would kill us, kill my children. I must keep them safe. Will you help me?”

  “I always help. You are my queen.” She touched her fingers to her forehead, making the sign of respect, as she’d seen some do from my homeland. The gesture touched my heart, yet her expression was steady and stern. “What can I do? Where will you go?”

  “Because I love you, Menmet, I cannot tell you where I am to go. It would put you in grave danger, and I would rather drown than do such a thing. You are like my own sister.”

  She looked down at her hands and pouted. “Yes, but you will leave me behind, won’t you?”

  “I cannot take you with me. It is too dangerous. But if we make the preparations carefully, you will not be harmed. Of that I am sure.”

  “I am your servant. I must go with you. No preparations can save me from Pharaoh’s wrath, Great Queen.”

  “Trust me, Menmet. If I were to take you with me, I would place you in more danger than you can imagine.”

  Her lip trembled, but she said, “Tell me what I must do.”

  “Please try to understand, Menmet.” Her disappointment was apparent, but I told her the truth. I could not risk additional harm to those I loved. For the next few minutes I whispered my wishes to her, and
then she left me to begin her work. I would pray to the Shining Man later. I would pray and hope he listened. It had been so long since I’d seen him. I’d had no dreams, no visions. Surely Akhenaten and I had lost our way. Then I remembered that long-ago dream, the one I would not share with my husband.

  He’d been on his throne. A crowd of leopard coats, a larger crowd than any I had seen, appeared before him and then around him. They began chanting and moaning dark phrases, all of which were directed at my husband. Akhenaten began to shout at them, but they would not cease and they would not listen. Soon, darkness wrapped around his glorious throne and I saw him stand, pushing against that blackness. It did not leave him. As he opened his mouth one last time, a black crow emerged and he fell down the steps in a heap as the leopard coats crowded around him.

  The recollection of the dream filled me with dread. Oh, my love! If only you would let me help you! But it was too late now. Too late to fix any of this.

  “Great Queen, you have a message.” I wiped my eyes with a handkerchief and listened. “Adijah, the ambassador of Grecia, has come at your request. He is in the gallery. Would you like to see him now? Or should I ask him to step into your chambers?”

  I thought about that for a moment. Where could we meet? I had to take care not to anger my husband, who already thought me an unfaithful woman. I could not meet with Adijah today, but when? Where? “Tell Adijah to meet me in the vault beneath the palace tomorrow when the sun goes down. I will meet him by the records room.” The unknown servant bowed nervously, and I thought for the briefest moment that I saw the hint of a smirk on her face. I certainly wasn’t going to call her back and ask her about it. I watched her disappear and heard the bird’s sweet song again. No, this must not wait.

  Carrying the cage to the balcony, I opened the door to allow the bird his freedom. He had completed his task. He watched me for a few seconds and then suddenly took flight, speeding away from my balcony and our palace. I watched him disappear into the sunshine, feeling nostalgic for home and for freedom. Was it possible that I would be free? And what of my daughters and my son? Would we all die under the weight of my husband’s hand?

  I did not know, but I refused to wait here to find out.

  I’d been waiting too long already.

  Chapter Ten

  Womb of Spiders—Ipy

  A wise woman once told me, “To live in the royal palace is to live in a womb of spiders.” I did not understand those words when I first heard them, but the meaning had become very clear to me of late. In the womb of a spider, there is more than one biting mouth that can harm you, more than one spider to kill you. If you want to avoid becoming another casualty of the spider’s hunger, you must become a more vicious spider yourself. This epiphany came to me one afternoon while I sat bored in Pharaoh’s harem, staring out the window and dreaming of life beyond the palace walls, as we all did from time to time. I was no longer Pharaoh’s favorite; he’d cast me off because of some sin my father committed. Even after my father’s death I remained with the other women, a pitiful emblem of the conquests of Amenhotep—or as he preferred to be called now, Akhenaten. I’d once known a life outside this lovely prison, and the memory of that other world stabbed at my heart each day.

  Until I began to watch the spider.

  She spun, caught her meals without any help from anyone She mated and killed and cared for her sack of children. I envied her. On more than one occasion I saved my muse’s life from the whisk of a broom. The other women believed me to be simpleminded when I shoved them away. Unlike them I did not care who wore purple. I cared not about the latest lovers’ tricks, the scandals of faraway courts. None of these things intrigued me when I was a girl, yet the spider continued to inspire and amaze me. Even after I woke one morning and found her dead in a tight ball of black legs and torn webs she inspired me. She’d achieved her task. And I waited for the moment when I could achieve mine.

  Eventually it came. And what a strange thing it was, too. I’d been invited to Akhenaten’s court by his Great Queen, and I’d never left. She too thought me simpleminded, never realizing that inside me was a spider, waiting and watching and spinning. I could not tell what day it was that my web had caught my prey, so slowly had I woven it. At first Akhenaten barely looked at me, but as he saw that I forgave him and believed that I adored him still, the web tightened. All the while I hated him.

  Now, in my womb, I carried my own spider. I would never allow my child to be weak. Never would my child be abandoned. I would teach her—for I was convinced it was a girl-child—that love was an illusion, a spell. It was not real.

  I had not always thought so. My father had served the old pharaoh, but I never liked my father. He reeked of garlic and handled me more than I liked. Also called Ipy, my father had a way of using everything and everyone at his disposal, always for his betterment. I was not sad when he was executed for treason, although my mother mourned for him. No, indeed, I was not. Until I was banished from court, away from Akhenaten forever. Or at least until the arrival of the new Great Queen. When she summoned me I knew she was in trouble. Why else would she call upon me? I was no one. Amenhotep did not love me, as he had proved. Rarely did he come to see me, and even then only long enough to get me with child. Although it had been in his power to call me to him whenever he liked.

  I did not dislike the new queen. I hated Tadukhipa much more than I hated Nefertiti. But I loved no one, except for the spider in my belly.

  “Lady Ipy. May I come in?” Speaking of spiders, here was another. She stood in the shadows, but I recognized her pretty face. This was Menmet! Aw, all the pretty spiders are at work today.

  “You may. I seem to be very popular with queens today. Tell me, is it true the old queen is dead? I have heard so, but I don’t dare believe it.” I sat primly on the couch and waited to see which way the wind would blow with this one. This was the Great Queen Nefertiti’s servant. I’d seen her in the court and at other times, always at the queen’s beck and call. She did not look me in the face; in fact, I thought she might run away, for she displayed an extraordinary amount of inner struggle. She set her chin and nodded.

  “Yes, lady. It is true. We are all to mourn for the next forty days.”

  “Is that why you have come, Menmet? To express to me the Great Queen’s wishes? I know enough to mourn when appropriate. I do not need a mother!” I barked at her. And where were my servants? I wondered absently. Oh yes, I’d ordered them out after Tadukhipa’s visit. Now would be a good time to see them return. Did no one care for me here? I would speak to Amenhotep about this later. I mean, Akhenaten. How strange it was to say that name. As if changing a name would change the man. He would always be what he was, a philanderer. An incompetent leader.

  “No, indeed it is not. The Great Queen does not know I have come here. In fact, she cannot know at all.” I smiled at her answer and patted the cushion beside me. Oh yes, here is another spider.

  “You are Heby’s daughter, aren’t you? Has he sent you here, then?”

  She shook her head, her wig bobbing prettily. Finally she cast those angled eyes upon me, and they were full of tears. “I don’t know what to do, Lady Ipy. I know something, something troubling, and the burden is too great. I must tell someone who has our Pharaoh’s ear. He must know this or else I may perish!” I held her hands soothingly, reminding myself not to be too greedy with my response. “I would rather die than return to my father’s house or fall under the weight of my Pharaoh Akhenaten’s anger!”

  “Come now, Menmet. Calm yourself, dear. I can see you have come to me with troubling news. I will surely speak to Pharaoh on your behalf. You have no need to worry. Tell me, what is on your heart?” I made my voice soft and sweet, just as I did with Amenhotep.

  “I would never speak against my lady queen, but I know I will die if I do not. She doesn’t know what she is doing. I think she is riddled with grief because of the queen mother’s passing. That must be it. Yes, that is it.” She wept now and sat in a blu
bbering heap beside me. How long must I endure this? Oh yes, be patient, little spider.

  “So you have no wish to tell me what you came to tell me, then? You may leave if you like, Menmet. Without worry that I would betray your concerns. Please know that I am here whenever you need me.” I hugged her even though I hated to do so. This kind of contact did not come naturally to me, but I knew it soothed others. And this woman was a fountain of information, and this spider would benefit from the information. I stroked her wig and patted her shoulder, ready for there to be more distance between us.

  “No, I must tell you. I came to you because I know something of your past, lady. I too have a father who has fallen out of favor with Pharaoh. I am content to serve the Great Queen, but I cannot help but worry for my sister and myself if the Great Queen succeeds in her plan.”

  “Oh, Menmet. What a heavy burden for such slender shoulders! I cannot believe our Great Queen would put you in such a delicate position. It must be grief, yes, that must be it. And yes, you and I have much in common, but we need not be defined by our fathers. We are our own women, called into the service of our great Pharaoh Akhenaten. Let us serve him with all our hearts, even our bodies if we must.”

  She nodded and whispered, “The queen makes plans to leave, Lady Ipy. She will not tell me when and where, but she will leave us. How can this be? What do I do?”

  I squeezed her hands and mimicked her sad face. “Serve the Great Queen. Be her friend, as you have always been. I will find out the truth. Rest assured all will be well, Menmet.” I rose from the couch, anxious for this meeting to end. Menmet was ready to be rid of me, having done what she came to do. What a shameful thing! I wondered why she would betray her queen in such a way! She would never serve in my court. This was further proof that all women were spiders.