The Song of the Bee-Eater (The Desert Queen Book 4) Read online

  She showed a gap-toothed smile. “If I find it and bring it back to you, will you tell me a story?” And she quickly added, “And can I keep my treasure?”

  I laughed at her enthusiasm. Of all my children Tasherit loved my stories—and my treasures—best. “Why, yes! Now go, my smart girl!” She took off running, her bare feet slapping on the floor. She was truly a tiny little thing.

  “What is on your heart, my daughter? You can speak freely to me.”

  “There is nowhere free here.” Meritaten crossed her arms and stared out across the city to the sands beyond. After a minute she added, “I used to hate you, Mother. I don’t now, but I used to.”

  “Why?” I asked, completely surprised by her admission. “Have I wronged you in some way?”

  “No, it is not that.” She sighed, turned her back to the railing and tapped her fingers on the carved wood. “I thought you did not love us. I remember those times when my father would wave you to his side and you would leave us. We cried for you, but you never came. Sometimes for weeks. I would think, how can any mother leave their child for such a long time? Even if her husband is the great Pharaoh? But that was before—before I knew what love was myself.”

  “Before you knew you loved Smenkhkare?”

  “You know?”

  “Of course I know. I am his mother too.”

  When I said nothing else she added, “And you don’t approve?”

  “I never had the opportunity to approve or disapprove. My son told me of his intentions after it was too late for me to intervene. I cannot go against the wishes of the Pharaoh. And sadly, even if Smenkhkare had consulted me earlier, I am not sure it would have availed much.”

  Suddenly Meritaten threw herself in my lap and wept loudly. The servants paused and whispered, but no one dared to invade our privacy. Except Menmet, who stood nearby. I waved her back and stroked Meritaten’s arm.

  “There now, sweet daughter. All will be well.” Ah, yes. Those words did bring comfort to us, didn’t they? “You have to trust fate. If it is meant to be, it will happen.”

  “How can that be? He is to marry that awful girl! He doesn’t want to—can’t you help us? Don’t you understand how it feels?” She looked up at me, her pretty face filled with deep emotion.

  “I wish it were that easy. You can’t give up hope, Meritaten. You must keep hope.”

  She pushed me away and sobbed in the corner of the balcony. “And that is your advice? Keep hope? I will not stand idly by and watch him marry her!”

  I rushed to her side. “Hush now, daughter. You cannot lose control like this. It will not do you any good. Believe me, I know.”

  She spun around, her eyes now streaked with makeup, her lip quivering. “How has that worked for you, Mother? Has silently waiting like a dutiful wife helped you at all? There is open talk that Pharaoh will make Ipy Great Queen. Do you know what that means? We will all be ruined! And you do nothing? By the gods! She wears your crown, Mother!”

  She shouted at me now, but I gripped her hands and said in a low whisper, “There are spies here, Meritaten!” I stared her down to demonstrate the danger. When she stilled for a moment I continued, “No one here is my friend. Keep your voice down. I will help you as much as I can, but if you do not keep silent, I cannot help you at all. What now would you have me do? Throw a tantrum as you have done? And whose lap can I fall into? Let Ipy parade around in whatever crown she likes. I face more dangerous things than the loss of a crown or a few baubles.”

  She snatched her hands away and said in a vicious whisper, “Yes! Yes, you do.”

  Without waiting for my leave, Meritaten stormed out of my chambers, pushing past even Tasherit who had appeared with the promised treasure in her hands. My younger daughter’s eyes were full of fear and worry. She glanced from me to Meritaten’s vanishing figure. I held out my arms to her, but I could see the conflict on her face. She’d been with her sister all these months. Leaving the paper bird on a stick on my table, she left me and ran out.

  “Meritaten! Wait for me!” she called as she vanished from my view. I nearly collapsed into my chair. Then I caught a glimpse of Menmet as she slipped behind the curtain. I saw a smile on her face.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The Bones of Ayn—Tadukhipa

  From the comfort of my bed I watched the young man put on his clothes, fully appreciating his perfect physique. It was true that looking at him pleased me, but it was an empty pleasure, not like what I had felt in the arms of Inhapi. Men were not capable of love. I had never experienced that kind of love or witnessed it. All men were unfaithful. They were like animals, really, useful for only one thing—perhaps two, depending on the man. I spun the sweet-smelling rose over my nose as the young man returned to my bed to steal another kiss before leaving. But I did not give him one. “No more today, Seker. You must earn your next kiss.”

  He smiled at me and said, “Haven’t I done that, my queen? What can I do now to please you? Just name your desire, for it pleases me to please you.”

  I had no doubt that he meant it, even though I was old enough to be his mother—or at least his much older sister. Such stupidity in those exquisite eyes, but I liked a stupid man. I had no worries that Seker plotted against me, and I knew he would he ever incite me to overthrow my husband.

  The downside was he had no idea that I was on the verge of losing my claim to the high queenship, which would surely come available soon, as soon as Amenhotep mustered up the courage to execute the Desert Queen. That high place would go to Ipy. Once she became the next Great Queen, she would have complete control over us all. That could not be borne! How cruel to see my plan backfire on me so! After hearing of the Desert Queen’s treasonous affair with Aperel, Amenhotep was supposed to put her away or burn her—not raise the fat Ipy to new heights. As always, Pharaoh was unpredictable. And weak when it came to Nefertiti.

  “Go to the Great Queen and command her attend me. Tell her I wish to see her in my chambers in one hour.” If I could not work with Ipy, I might be able to entice Nefertiti to help me rid us both of her nasty presence.

  His smile vanished and he stammered stupidly, “I cannot command the Great Queen, but I’ll be happy to relay your request to her.”

  I slapped his face with the rose, and a thorn left a long scratch across his cheek and cleft chin. “Get out and don’t return,” I shouted. Blood poured from the scratch, and he held his hand to his face. I rolled over on my back and ignored him as he stomped away to tend to his wound and obey my command. Yes, he brought me pleasure from time to time, but he had no courage. Feeling aggravated still with his insubordination, I rolled out of my bed and poured myself some water.

  Hours later I was still mulling over my situation, and I began to regret my hastiness. Seker did not return—in this, he obeyed me—and I had too much pride to send for him so soon. But I regretted sending him away. He risked his life night after night crawling into my bed. That was proof of his courage, wasn’t it? What else did I want? For him to throw himself into the Burning Bull? I shivered thinking of Ramose and Sitamen, burning and twisting together in death. It had been a horror to witness.

  “Queen Tadukhipa, you have a visitor.”

  “Yes? Who is it?” Perhaps it was Seker returning to beg my forgiveness!

  “It is the Great Queen, Neferneferuaten Nefertiti.” My servant bowed her head and waited for me to command her. This was an interesting turn of events, wasn’t it? I never thought I would see the day when the Desert Queen darkened my doorway. Sailing past the bowed servant, I entered my main chamber to find my sister-queen waiting for me. She’d not waited for me to invite her to sit. She sat already—and in my chair.

  “Queen Nefertiti? To what do I owe this rare pleasure?”

  “Leave us,” she said to my retinue of slaves and servants. They did not hesitate to obey her, but they went only as far as the antechamber. Obediently they closed the door and left us alone. Had we ever been alone before? And where were her servants? Didn�
��t they fear for her safety? How foolish to trust me!

  “State your business, Great Queen,” I said sarcastically. “Have you come for my help with Ipy? I can tell you from personal experience that she is an unpleasant sort of woman and not moved by common sense. I am afraid you are too late to overthrow her. You should have asked me before you invited her here.”

  She did not hesitate to speak, but she did not address my comments at all. “I know it was you who caused the death of Queen Tiye.” I did not deny it, and she kept talking. “I know it was you who spread the rumors that the Master of Horse and I met privately. That I was involved with him in an illicit manner.” I did not deny that either. A small smile crept across my face.

  “And what of it?” Did she want me to deny it? I was happy that she recognized my handiwork, but I was in no mood to play games with a pouting queen—one who was destined for banishment or worse.

  “Be sure your own sins will find you, Tadukhipa. Those who do evil always find their deeds revisited on them.”

  Unimpressed with her scolding, I sat at smaller chair at the square table between us. This table and the elegant chair the queen claimed for herself had been a gift from my father; they were a few of my wedding gifts. Each piece served as a reminder of who I was and the blood I came from. Royal blood. I used to love looking at it, running my fingers in the grooves, reading again and again the story of the Hittites that was scripted in the panels. So strong we were—absolutely ruthless when necessary. But even though those things were treasures to me, what rested in the box between us was the most interesting thing in the room. I was sure Queen Nefertiti would want to see it. I just had to wait for the right moment! I rubbed my finger over the top of the box. It was a plain thing but a fitting home for what lay inside it.

  “Tell me, Great Queen. Did you come all this way to tell me a story about virtue and morality? I hear you are very good at telling stories, but I am no child and have no time to hear one. I have many things to do today.”

  She gave me a lovely smile, and immediately I sensed the danger. She said sweetly, “Indulge me, my sister. This will not take long. I think this story will interest you a great deal, probably more than any other you have heard lately. It is the story of an evil witch who cast a spell on her husband. While he was under her spell, he made many poor decisions. He did many things he regretted. But one day, a little bird came to him and whispered words in his ear. Those words were magic words, and they broke the spell of the witch; his evil wife had no more power over him. The husband realized his mistake and immediately corrected it. He cast out the witch into the darkness and called her wife no more.”

  I leaned forward and stared at her in disbelief. “Is this supposed to frighten me? It’s no wonder that Ipy climbs so high. I despise game-playing. Tell me what is on your mind and be done with it.” My skin crawled in anticipation of what she would tell me.

  “Very well. Seker, your most recent lover, is now before the king. He is blubbering like an infant and has fully confessed to his crimes. He will die, just as innocent Aperel died. Except Aperel never accused me or confessed to the accusation, for it was only that. I have never taken another man to my bed. Seker says he has been your lover for some time.”

  Springing to my feet I beat the table with my fist. “You lie!”

  She smiled even wider. “I have it on good authority, Tadukhipa. It is a shame, though; he was so young and inexperienced. I am sure there was much you could have taught him if given a chance.”

  I stared at her, hardly believing what she said. It couldn’t be true! Having delivered her hateful words to my face, she acted as if she would leave me.

  “No! Wait, Great Queen.” It was my turn to smile now; my turn to give her a gift. “As you were kind enough to visit me today and deliver this news personally, it is only fair that I give you something.” Nefertiti’s back straightened, and she watched me as I opened the box. I pulled back the black cloth that covered my treasure. How long I had been waiting to show this to her! I revealed the bones and plucked out the necklace I’d stashed with them. She should recognize it. I tossed the thing in her lap and stepped back, waiting to see how she liked her present.

  The leather and turquoise necklace was unique but obviously not as finely made as anything Egyptian. Just another desert treasure not worth the time it took to make. She gingerly picked it up from her lap. I noticed that she wore black today again—and like an undignified foreign queen, she wore no gold or jewels. Did she believe Tiye would have done the same for her? Still in mourning for the crazy old woman, I supposed, and how much more she would mourn now. She rubbed the pendant and looked at the bones. I picked up the skull and rolled it around in my hands before offering it to her. “Do you recognize her? She is quite a bit thinner now.” I laughed at my own joke, but it yielded no response from her.

  She slid the necklace around her neck and rose from my favorite chair. “Well? How do you like my gift?” I asked her. She did not accept the skull, and I tired of holding it. I bounced the gaping thing back in its box and smiled innocently, satisfied that my arrow had hit the mark. If she had not thought me evil before, she would certainly think me so now. “Answer me. I am not used to being ignored.”

  “You are an evil woman. And not just evil; you are mad. I have long made peace with Ayn’s passing, but you must live with your lover’s death today. That is enough.”

  I screamed with fury and shoved her as hard as I could. Nefertiti fell on her backside but did not stay down long. She raced across the room, I thought to escape me. But instead she charged for the long golden spear on the wall. With surprising strength she pulled it down and hefted it like a warrior. I firmly believed she would drill a hole in me if she could.

  I picked up a small bust of Amenhotep and pitched it at her. It landed at her feet; the enamel coating cracked, but it did not break. A few more inches and it would have struck her. She poked at me with the spear as I searched for a weapon. I tossed a platter at her, which she quickly dodged, but soon I spotted what I’d been looking for. The long blade stood in the corner. It was a blade like those used by a queen’s guard, left here for some reason just yesterday. Such a strange thing to see because I already possessed many ceremonial weapons, most of which had been given to me by my father and uncle. Perhaps my husband hoped I’d run myself through with the guard’s sword so he could finally be rid of me. That I would never do. If he wanted me to die, he would have to see to it himself. And if Seker betrayed me, Amenhotep might very well do it after all.

  I had no training with a sword, no skill with a blade, yet my black anger would not allow me to relent.

  “You are making a mistake, Tadukhipa. Another mistake.”

  I sliced at her, but her spear kept me at a safe distance. She was toying with me now. “I hate you! I hate you!” I screamed at her.

  “Stop this madness!” she screamed back, but I noticed she did not lower her own weapon. Suddenly the doors of the chamber opened and the servants rushed in. They cried out—at what I did not know. Perhaps they were warning us to stop; my mind was full of angry bees, and I could barely hear anything over their buzzing. Then the cries rose up, like a strange tide, from the surrounding palace and the city below. I lowered my sword and beheld Mure’s face.

  “What is it?”

  “Pharaoh is dead, mistress! Our sovereign is dead!” She fell to her knees and began weeping, as did the others. They hardly seemed to notice that I held a sword and Nefertiti a spear.

  “What will become of us? What will become of us?” another cried out in agony.

  I dropped my sword and fell into my chair. I could not help but scream. I clawed at my arms and beat my chest with my fists. “No! This cannot be true! Amenhotep! Husband!” I said again, pushing my servants away. Through my tears I saw Nefertiti drop the spear, and it clanged against the marble floor. Without another word or a hint of emotion she departed quickly.

  My mind screamed, “Now is the time! Kill her now!” but my
heart would not allow me to act. It was broken. All my love had been squeezed from it. All my hope.

  It was in that moment that I realized the agonizing truth. I had loved Amenhotep—from the first day I saw him to this day. I had loved him utterly and completely. And like Inhapi, he was gone.

  I had nothing else to live for.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Love’s Light—Meritaten

  Tasherit cried herself to sleep after our brief visit with Mother. The poor girl cried so hard she made herself physically sick. My little sister begged me to go back and apologize to our mother for leaving so abruptly, but I would not. I told her to go back herself if she wanted to, that I would not hold it against her, but she would not leave me. That both comforted me and filled my heart with guilt. Eventually Tasherit stopped asking me to return to Mother and closed her eyes. Once her breathing settled she succumbed to sleep and I left her—for a little while. I would never leave her for too long; all we had was each other. But it was difficult to find time for myself, so I selfishly stole it whenever I could.

  It was only a matter of time before my sister and I were shipped back to the White Palace, and I wanted to visit the stables again—these were far superior to ours. My father kept his finest breeds at his palace, and some were protected by armed guards as they were rare and very costly—I especially loved the black chariot horses, although they were smaller than the war horses. Smenkhkare loved his war horses. Not me. I would trade any of my treasures for a pair of these chariot horses. And these two were powerful animals and demonstrated great loyalty to one another. Loyalty. It was such a rare thing.

  My servant, Sarai, whom I’d named Lurker because of her tall frame and saggy dark eyes, stayed in the palace after first defying my commands several times. It wasn’t until I threatened to thrash her that she obeyed me. Sarai was so slow that it wasn’t really difficult to leave her behind, but she was very persistent. She did not speak much, and that at least was something. Tasherit talked nonstop from the time she woke up until her head hit the pillow at night, so Sarai’s quiet presence did not irritate me often. I craved quiet.