Magic of the Nile (8 page)

Everything.
She shook her head, throat choked with emotion. There was no use to try explaining herself. His dreams and hers had nothing in common she could see, except for the love she bore for him in her heart.

Hands on her shoulders, he said, “I’ll ask you one more time, please come to Thebes and be my wife. Or tell me once and for all why you can’t leave this temple. Why you’re refusing all I have to offer.”

“I can’t. I’m sorry, Sahure, I’d no idea it was going to come to this. It was never my intent to hurt you.” Breaking his hold, rejecting his touch as firmly as she was refusing his proposal, she walked away a few steps, toying with the robe’s belt.

“Why did you lead me on then? Why sleep with me? Did you just decide it was time to experience a man’s embrace, and I was a more exciting partner than the local
temple guards
?
” He injected so much scorn into the words that she winced as if struck. “I thought, I hoped, you loved me, felt what I feel.”

She whirled around, her hand going out. “I do, oh, Sahure, I do love you.”

He shook his head, going to the bed to gather up his loincloth and kilt. “No. If you truly loved me, we’d be discussing whatever it is binding you to this place. You’d trust me, certainly not leave me to beg for explanations like a supplicant. We’d work through the obstacle together.” Belting the pleated linen around his hips, he said, not sparing a glance for her, “I never dreamt I’d be fortunate enough to fall in love, to meet a woman I truly wanted to bind myself to, heart and soul, rather than just a cold political union for ambition’s sake. How I envied Pharaoh his long, happy marriage! What a laugh the gods must be having now—I’ve met the lady and she doesn’t want
me
.”

Tyema was speechless, emotion clogging her throat. She’d known this affair would end hard for her, but she’d never expected to hurt Sahure. Her heart pounded, sweat dotted her brow despite the night chill and black spots were in her vision. Terrified, because never had the symptoms of her malady assaulted her here, in the safety of the temple, she pressed both hands to her chest and fled out the door into the garden, sobbing. The need for fresh air and open space was driving her. Prayers he wouldn’t follow her mixed with wild hopes he would. There was no other answer she could give and the sheer terror assaulting her now was the proof she was right. She of all people could never marry a high born, ambitious man, not even Sahure, wonderful as he was.
I can’t even walk in my own village, the place I was born, where everyone knows me, without fear of passing out in the street, disgracing myself with bodily ills, dying in the road like a diseased beggar. How could I keep household for him in Thebes?
“I’m only myself, my real self, in this one tiny spot,” she said out loud, gazing around the garden in the moonlight, her voice catching. She knew she’d hurt his pride. But how could she explain to a proud, confident warrior like him, much as she loved him, the way terror caught her by the throat the second she stepped outside the temple grounds, had to deal with people on a personal level? Unreasoning fear never let go until she was safely home again.
 

“I felt safe with you,” she said, leaning on the trunk of a tree and gazing out across the moonlit Nile as she addressed the absent Sahure. “But I couldn’t be with you every moment of the day, could I? I’d be an embarrassment, a laughingstock in Thebes. And your career would suffer, your hopes for promotion and honors dashed because of your wife’s strange behaviors, until you hated me and regretted we’d ever met. Took other wives and concubines, perhaps. Maybe even divorced me.”

She stayed in the garden until dawn, weeping herself hoarse, catching a chill so deep her bones ached. As the sun rose, she crept back to her room, where all trace of his presence was gone, other than the rumpled sheets on her bed. Picking up the now-crushed flower he’d brought for her hair, Tyema collapsed onto the bed, wrapping herself in the linen, breathing in his masculine scent.
 

Her maids found her there when they brought breakfast.

She told them in a whisper that was all she had left of a voice to get out. She was taking the day off from duty.

And the next day, the day she knew Sahure would be leaving the province—and her—forever, she rose and went silently about her duties, refusing to have the town physician summoned. In the ensuing weeks, she grew even more reclusive, if such a thing were possible, until her staff and her family despaired.

Chapter Two

Sahure had been in a dark mood during the entire journey back to Thebes. As the dusty miles passed under the wheels of his chariot, he kept reliving the last night with Tyema and trying to understand what had gone wrong after such a wonderful start. Angry at her rejection, hoping never to think of her again, his heart hurt and his pride was severely wounded. As the days wore on while he and his men traveled north to the capital, he began to think more clearly and to regret the hasty way he’d left, not even seeking her out in the garden to say farewell and make sure she was all right. He cursed himself for losing his temper.

Arriving in Thebes in the late afternoon, he left his chariot and the horses for the grooms to attend to and headed for his room in the officers’ quarters. He needed a bath, fresh clothing and time to unwind enough to get himself into a proper military mindset before reporting to Pharaoh. The Great One wanted to hear a straightforward report about locations for his new harbor, not a sad tale of love gone awry. No sooner had Sahure entered the building, however, than a military scribe sought him out.

“Pharaoh requires you to report immediately, sir,” the man said. “The palace sent over a standing order a few days ago to the effect you should waste no time presenting yourself once you arrived in Thebes.”

Disbelieving, Sahure gestured at his dusty, travel stained uniform. “I can’t go before the Great One like this. Give me at least a few moments to clean up and change.”

“All right,” the scribe agreed, inspecting him from head to toe and grimacing. “We’ll send a messenger to the palace to let them know you’re on your way, so don’t linger too long.”

A short time later, wearing a new uniform, a refreshed Sahure was being ushered into the audience chamber Pharaoh used for discussing military matters.

As he crossed the threshold and his name was announced, Sahure saluted crisply.

Pharaoh put aside the tablet he’d been reading, dismissed the other courtiers and officers and beckoned him closer as the group left the room, greeting him warmly in passing. As the door closed, Nat-re-Akhte said, “I’m glad to see you had a safe journey from the Ibis Nome, Captain Sahure. Is your uncle the Nomarch well?”

Sahure stood at parade rest in front of Pharaoh’s desk. “As far as I’m aware, he and his wife are both in good health, sir. I haven’t had time to have my preliminary report on the opportunities for a new port transcribed into a proper final draft, but I can recount the high points to you.” He had his major recommendations ready to recite. A little flicker of pain struck his heart, remembering all the help and advice he’d had from Tyema in developing those. Clenching his fist, he willed himself to concentrate.

Holding up one hand, Pharaoh shook his head. “I’ll see the report in due time, I’m sure. I’ve called you here on another, far more urgent matter. In the last two weeks, no caravans have arrived out of the south.”

“None?” Sahure was surprised, shifting focus to call on his knowledge of the area. “It’s not sandstorm weather. What news from the Southern Oasis?”

“Therein lies the crux of the matter.” Nat-re-Akhte nodded, forehead wrinkled in a frown, as Sahure pinpointed the key issue. “I’ve received no word from the commander for the past few weeks either. No couriers, no carrier pigeons. The last report to arrive indicated situation was normal, so obviously something untoward has happened since then. I want you to assume command of the oasis. Take 50 chariots, with drivers and archers and a company of 250 foot soldiers. I’m assigning you three members of my own Guard to be your officers and shield mates.” Pharaoh smiled. “I leave the selection of the three men to you—you’ve served with them, you’ll know who best fits the assignment. The Great Overseer of the Army, General Marnamaret, is ready to confer with you about logistical support, but I think you’ll find he has all in readiness for your departure. I want you to leave at dawn the day after tomorrow.”

Although honored and pleased to be given the challenging assignment, Sahure’s head was spinning a bit as he took in the orders. His last military action had been months ago, chasing a small army of bandits in a southern nome. He wondered which of the dire possibilities crowding his thoughts—attack, famine, illness—he was going to find at the Oasis when he got there.
A plan will be required for dealing with each possibility. And which of my brother officers from Pharaoh’s Guard do I want to select? Who do I trust the most?

“The assignment is for at least a year,” Pharaoh added. “I need stability there, once you’ve gotten the place in order. As you’re aware, the trade goods brought north by the caravans and the taxes due to the throne are critical to my treasury, necessary for administration of Egypt’s affairs, maintaining her defense, feeding my people in time of famine.” He pointed his quill at Sahure. “You’re one of my best men, I’ve no desire to immure you in the desert for the rest of your career. I have other plans for your future, but now isn’t the time to discuss those.” Setting the quill down, Pharaoh leaned closer, staring Sahure in the eyes. “Get my oasis and my caravan route back in order, establish the structure needed to prevent future mishaps, and I’ll be
very
impressed. Grateful. Gold of valor shall be the least of your rewards.”

“I’m honored, Great One.” This was a rare opportunity, the kind of thing he and all his peers craved—a chance to do a true service to Pharaoh and their country. Since the Hyksos invaders had been driven beyond Egypt’s borders for a decade, a major operation of this nature had been nearly nonexistent. Sahure was also happy about the length of the posting. Time enough to make his mark on the Southern Oasis, but not so long his hopes for promotion would be sidetracked. He was relieved to hear Pharaoh’s praise. It was a pity about the Ibis Nome project, though. He had so much of himself invested in the planning, not to mention the unresolved issues with Tyema.

Pharaoh had already picked up the tablet again, moving on to his next concern, which didn’t involve Sahure. “Submit your report on the Ibis Nome matter to my Chief Scribe before you go, although I’m not likely to move forward with it for a while.”

“Of course, Great One.”
 

Dismissed, he emerged into the hall, guards closing the door behind him. Knowing he needed to find General Marnamaret, commander of Pharaoh’s armies, he set off in the direction of the military annex, only to meet the Great Royal wife, Queen Ashayet, in the central hallway as she approached her husband’s study.

He bowed.

“Captain Sahure, well met,” she said with a delighted smile. “We’ve missed you at Court these past few weeks. I’m pleased to see you home from Ibis.”

“Then I must disappoint you in the same moment, your majesty. I’ve just been ordered to the Southern Oasis, leaving the day after tomorrow,” he answered.

“I wish you well in the assignment.” She smiled. “Unfortunate timing in some ways—I know you were planning to set up your household in Thebes this year, take a wife. My husband does prefer his highest officials to be established, married. I know he has his eye on you for the future.”

“Marriage won’t be possible right now, I’m afraid. I’d never take a woman to the Southern Oasis, especially when we don’t know why it’s fallen silent.” Sahure found he was actually glad he couldn’t pursue a political marriage as soon as he’d originally planned. A vision of Tyema crossed his mind.

“I do see the logic, captain, but there are some ladies in my court who might risk a trip to the Southern Oasis, to be your chosen one.” Ashayet’s tone was teasing. She pointed her fan at a cluster of younger ladies-in-waiting. “Baufratet perhaps? You were childhood sweethearts, according to her. Or maybe Nidiamhet? You certainly seemed taken by her artistic talents when you were stationed here last.” Something must have changed in his demeanor as she listed the names because the queen dropped her bantering tone. She searched his face for a moment, while her fan bearers, guards, and ladies-in-waiting stood discreetly and silently by. Gesturing for her retinue to remain where they were, Ashayet took Sahure by the arm and led him a few steps away, until they were standing partially hidden in the lee of a great granite pillar. “What is it? What’s happened?”

He’d always had a good relationship with the queen. Ashayet was genuinely interested in the people who served her husband, so he told her the truth. It eased the pain a bit to be able to speak of Tyema to a sympathetic ear after keeping the emotions bottled up for days. “I met someone in Ibis Nome, someone special.”

“This is cause for rejoicing, but I see only stress and concern on your face,” the queen said. “Is she coming to Thebes? I’d be happy to take your wife under my wing while you’re gone on this task for my husband.”

“She refused me, your majesty.” Pain burned in his heart again as he uttered the words.

Ashayet seemed amused rather than dismayed on his behalf. “How did you ask her? I know you soldiers sometimes treat women as objectives to be won, not wooed.” She chuckled, perhaps over some private memory, Nat-re-Akhte having been a hard driving military man before ascending to the throne.