Sphinx's Queen (19 page)

What followed in that chamber of Hathor’s house was like a clash of armies. I had never seen a great battle, but I had read many accounts of them. First came the wild uproar of the charge, the riot and confusion as chariots and foot soldiers crashed against one another, the deadly hiss of thick swarms of arrows launched into the sky. Then the tumult faded, rose here and there across the field, faded again as the course of combat changed, fresh troops pouring into the fight here, exhausted or annihilated combatants dropping out of it there.

My own fight for true justice put more than two armies onto the battlefield. Amenophis added his voice to mine when I testified about what Thutmose had done to warp the truth, laying false charges at my feet. Aunt Tiye took her older son’s side, shrilly accusing Amenophis of disloyalty to his brother when she wasn’t blaming me for bringing the whole situation down on my own head. Thutmose said nothing more after his initial words sparked the raging fight, but it was obvious that he was merely biding his time, like a seasoned commander who waits to see which way the battle is going before sending his men forward at exactly the right time and place to seize victory.

As for Pharaoh, he had the look of a man caught between a blazing fire and a starving crocodile. From time to time, he would bark a command for everyone to speak in turn rather than shouting all at once. Other than that, the god-on-earth was unable to rule the fray. The priests of Hathor huddled together, not because they were frightened by the regal conflict, but because they were enjoying it. They might as well have been peasants watching two of their drunken friends caught up in a brawl. They did everything but cheer and make bets on the outcome. Throughout it all, I stood by Nava, taking her and Ta-Miu under my arm to keep them safe and to lend the Habiru child courage. She might have enjoyed tales of violence, but when the real thing threatened to erupt before her eyes, she was only a scared little girl.

At last the battle wore itself out. A bristling, prickly silence ensued. I felt as if we all stood amid the ruins of a house that had been torn to pieces by demons riding a sandstorm. I stooped to take Ta-Miu from Nava’s keeping and held out the cat for Pharaoh to see.

“My lord, see for yourself what I have here. We’ve wasted too much anger in this room, throwing accusations and blame back and forth and ignoring the only thing that matters: I was charged with having killed this cat, Ta-Miu, and using her blood to make wax images for the purpose of putting a curse on you and Prince Thutmose. Yet here she is, alive and well! Even more important, here you are, in the best of health, thank the gods. If there has been no killing and no curse, there can be no crime committed and no punishment for it. I am innocent, and the proof of it is here.”

Pharaoh put out his hands, wordlessly requesting that I let him hold Ta-Miu. He examined the little cat thoroughly, from the tip of her tail to the top of her head to the place on her brow where the white star shone. Fingering her collar, he turned a stern face to Thutmose.

“I know this cat,” he said. “I remember the day that I gave her to you. This collar was my gift as well. I was deeply pleased by how much you loved her. Frankly, my son, there were times that I wondered if your heart would ever learn
how
to care about another living creature.”

“You think I don’t care about you or Mother?” Thutmose sounded genuinely hurt, but I also noticed that he made no mention of Amenophis or his sisters.

Pharaoh sighed. Had he noticed it, too? “You are
obliged
to love us, as your parents and as rulers of this land. But there is no force that compels you to love this small cat, and yet you do. Or you did. If you love something truly, you don’t
use
it; you don’t manipulate it or turn it into a gaming piece, moving it here or there to serve your own desires.”

“You’re right, my father,” Thutmose said. His voice was submissive, but I saw the way his eyes narrowed when he looked at his mother. There was more cold accusation in that look than in all the false charges he’d brought against me. “Ma’at herself would recognize the truth you speak about love. But she would also affirm that I am right when I say Nefertiti is
still
guilty of acts of sacrilege and blasphemy against the gods.”

“Thutmose, have you lost your mind?” Pharaoh’s scowl was terrible to see. “Do you
hear
your own words? You claimed she killed your cat and used its blood to cast evil spells on us, yet
here
is the cat and
where
is the evil magic?”

With the swiftness of a cobra’s strike, Thutmose sprang forward and grabbed Nava by the wrist. Before Amenophis or I could stop him, he dragged the stumbling, wailing girl in front of Pharaoh and forced her to her knees.
“Here
it is, my father!” he declared, pointing at her while she wept with fright. “Here is the proof of Nefertiti’s crime.”

“What is this?” Pharaoh demanded. “What are you thinking of, bullying a child this way?”

“This ‘child’ is a Habiru slave, one who worships a god without a face, a god who has no known shape, a god of smoke and shadows. What better god for someone whose hands are steeped in the darkness of sorcery?”

I couldn’t bear any more. I rushed to scoop Nava into my arms. She wrapped her thin legs around my waist and buried her head against my shoulder, clinging to me so hard that her fingers dug into my flesh painfully. “This is nonsense!” I shouted. “Madness! To call this harmless little girl a sorceress—!”

“Not her,” Thutmose said calmly. “You.”

“My son, think about what you’re saying.” Aunt Tiye moved to place one steadying hand on his arm. It was the only time I’d seen her confident, determined face soften so much. She was no longer a queen or Pharaoh’s powerful Great Royal Wife. She was only a mother concerned for her child. “If you and Nefertiti have quarreled, let us help make peace between you. Whatever she has done to fill you with such a thirst for vengeance, this is not the way to make her sorry or to teach her to show you the love and respect she owes her future husband.”

“By Osiris, it’s true,” Thutmose mused aloud. “You’d marry me to a scorpion if you thought it would help me get the throne.”

Aunt Tiye drew back her hand and slapped him. One of the priests of Hathor had the bad luck to gasp. The queen whirled on him in a fury. “Leave us!” she commanded. “Take your miserable carcasses somewhere else or I swear by your own goddess that I will squash you like the gape-mouthed, goggle-eyed frogs you are!”

Some of the priests didn’t wait to be given a second order. They ran from the chamber. Only Djau and two others remained behind, hesitating. “My—my lord Pharaoh,” he quavered. “My lord, we were in the middle of the litany. I cannot go. Hathor will be insulted.”

“There, there, you stay,” Pharaoh reassured him. “My Great Royal Wife knows better than to insult the goddess who heard my prayers for renewed health. Isn’t that right, Lady Tiye?” My aunt closed her mouth and glowered at him.

He gave his attention back to Thutmose. “My son, when I left Thebes, I gave you the power to rule there in my place. I’ve always intended for you to follow me onto the throne of the Black Land. From the time you were small, you showed nothing but the brightest promise. Your teachers admired your cleverness. The men who taught you how to drive a chariot, to hunt, to use the sword and spear and bow, all were happy to tell me how strong and skilled you were. You were always a pretty child, and when you grew up, I could see for myself how handsome you were. No pharaoh could have asked for a more perfect heir.”

I looked over the top of Nava’s head to where Amenophis stood hearing all this. It must have been hard for him to listen to his father pouring so many praises onto his brother’s head. Pharaoh hadn’t spoken one word against his younger son, but Amenophis had spent most of his life in Thutmose’s shadow. Other people had let him know that he wasn’t as handsome or as strong or as destined for great things. If two different foods are set on the table before a guest and he only eats from one of the dishes, smacking his lips and loudly insisting it’s fit for the gods themselves, does he really
need
to say “This is tasteless, worthless, only fit for dogs” about the dish he ignores?

“Perfect …”
Pharaoh repeated the word bitterly. “A perfect illusion. Thutmose, if you can see a crime where there is no victim, sorcery in this child, sacrilege in this young woman, treachery in your own brother, then all of your other gifts and talents are dust and sand. You cannot govern with justice if your vision is warped and your mind is ailing, and I cannot give the crown of the Black Land to a prince who sees monsters.”

Thutmose lowered his eyes. “Father, will you hear me out? Or would you rather judge me without
all
the evidence?”

“Go on.” Pharaoh’s voice was tense.

“There is one truth you haven’t been told: I was not the one who charged Nefertiti with sacrilege and blasphemy. When we return to Thebes, you can call for witnesses, including your own vizier, who will swear to this. Ha! Why wait? Amenophis himself was there. Well, brother? Can you deny what I’ve just said?”

Amenophis spoke reluctantly. “I didn’t know that she was being brought to trial until it was almost too late. When I arrived, I learned that the evidence against her was a ripped, bloodstained dress and the testimony of our half brother, Meketre.”

“Exactly!” Thutmose slapped his palm with his fist. “Meketre accused her, not I! And there was something odd about the boy’s testimony. It sounded too practiced to be real, as if he were reciting a lesson he didn’t fully understand.”

“That was
your
doing!” I exclaimed. “Your plot, helped by the priests of Amun. You told Meketre what to say; you sent your own doctor to give me a potion that clouded my mind and slowed my tongue so that I couldn’t defend myself, and when I tried to write an explanation—”

“If it was my plot, Nefertiti, why would I be plucking it to pieces now?” Thutmose asked lightly. Before I could respond, he added, “Father, look at this girl. Isn’t she the most beautiful creature you’ve ever seen? Can anyone help falling in love with her? The one who wins her for his wife will think he’s the luckiest man alive. The
weak
man who wins her will spend the rest of his days living in fear that he’ll lose her again. He’ll pay any price to keep her, give her anything and everything she wants, even if what she wants is mastery of the Black Land itself!”

I tried to object, but Pharaoh raised his hand, bidding me and everyone else present to remain silent. “I don’t believe that you are a weak man, my son,” he said.

“Neither does Nefertiti,” Thutmose replied. “That’s the problem. She came to Thebes destined to be my bride, but she came with greater ambitions than that. I loved her at once, but she soon saw that I would never love her blindly, drunkenly enough to let her rule me.”

“And through you, to rule the Black Land,” Pharaoh mused. “I understand.” He glanced at his Great Royal Wife and nodded in a thoughtful way that made my aunt look nervous.

“But I never wanted—” I began.

“You will let my son speak.” All the warmth and kindness was gone from Pharaoh’s tone and face. I bit my lip and was still.

“I don’t know what I did or said to make her realize that I would be her husband but never her slave. I do know that she found someone she could command with her beauty, someone who had never imagined a girl who looks like this”—he pointed at me—“could love a boy who looks like
that.”
He couldn’t keep the scorn out of his voice as his finger swung around to indicate Amenophis.

“Thutmose, you shouldn’t speak that way about your brother,” Pharaoh chided.

“I hear you, Father,” Thutmose said docilely. “Forgive me; I’m still wounded by how coolly Nefertiti abandoned me for Amenophis and by how easily he welcomed her attention without a second thought that she was his own brother’s promised bride.” He put on the mask of a heartbroken lover, but I remembered the truth behind the mask. He had never loved me. He had only wanted to marry me because his mother assured him it would get him the crown.

“My son …” Pharaoh sounded weary. “My son, I sympathize with you, but it’s a common thing for girls and boys to let love make them do cruel things. Sometimes they don’t even realize they’re hurting others. What you’ve described to me is no scheme against you.”

“Isn’t it?” Thutmose spoke with sudden, fierce intensity. “Then why has she used every bit of her powers—beauty, cunning, ambition—to make me look like a madman in your eyes?
Why?
So that you will set me aside and give the crown to my brother—her devoted, doting slave!” He ticked off point after point on his fingers: “She conspires with Amenophis, who’s like wax in her hands. Together, and with the help of that brat”—he jerked his chin at Nava, who cringed tighter against me—“they created and planted all the evidence of Ta-Miu’s death. I would give a double handful of gold to know how they forced Meketre to be a part of their scheme. Bribes? Threats? Both? They manipulated me so that I had no choice but to condemn her, but before the sentence could be carried out, she escaped! She cast a sleeping spell over her guards with the help of her Habiru brat—”

“What
spell?”
I snapped. “It was a potion in a jug of wine!”

Thutmose ignored the interruption. “My love-struck brother helped those two flee across the river, but not before they whisked Ta-Miu from her hiding place and took her away with them. Now they’re here, claiming that Ta-Miu is living proof of Nefertiti’s innocence when her true purpose is to prove that I’m not fit to rule! Father,
you
chose me to govern Thebes in your absence.
You
proclaimed that I was as capable as you to see that justice was done. Everything that Nefertiti has done to overthrow me strikes at
you
. The people will hear—the peasants, the merchants, the soldiers, the nobles, the priests—and they will ask if Thebes was given into the hands of someone who condemned a guiltless girl for a crime that never happened. Then they’ll ask, ‘Who put someone so witless in power in the first place?’ ”