Sphinx's Queen (25 page)

My guards stepped back, joining the other soldiers positioned to keep watch over the crowd. A priest came forward and beckoned me to follow him. I was brought to stand inside a circle of white feathers, facing the dark entryway to the goddess’s shrine. The chatter of the crowd dwindled and was gone. The stone walls surrounding us held nothing but a silence.

“Mew!” A cat’s strident cry pierced the stillness, making the crowd murmur nervously.
Thutmose has brought Ta-Miu with him
, I thought. He’s so smugly certain of how this will turn out that he’s flaunting the very evidence of my innocence. I glanced back at the royal platform and saw him looking at me with a hyena’s grin. He was
tasting
my doom.

I might not be able to escape your jaws, Thutmose
, I thought resolutely,
but let’s see if I can’t break a tooth or two for you before that happens
.

I turned to the priest and saluted him with reverence. “Shall I speak now?” I asked.

He looked pleased that I’d asked. “First we will invoke the goddess with prayer and song. I will let you know when you should address Ma’at. Know, Lady Nefertiti, that this is not a court of law. You are not here to plead a case but to submit to the verdict of the goddess. She is immortal and all-seeing: She knows every step that brought you into her presence, and she has witnessed every act and every piece of evidence that will decide your guilt or innocence. All that you will do is call out to her for judgment.”

I bowed my head. “When the time is right, I will call out for justice,” I said. I don’t think he heard the difference in my words.

The priest gave me a benevolent look that might have been sincere. “The prayers and songs of praise are long. Would you like me to summon a fan-bearer to attend you, or some slaves to hold a sunshade over you?”

“No, thank you. I’m standing in the presence of the goddess. Let her see that I’m strong enough to stand on my own.”

The priest looked confused for a moment by my response. I think he was expecting me to be a different sort of girl, one who clung to others for help, one who fled from the harsher parts of life. I had endured much worse than having to stand unprotected under the Aten’s life-giving rays, especially so early in the day. If the ceremony were taking place under the unforgiving blast of noon, I would have accepted the priest’s offer of a fan
and
a sunshade. I was strong, not stupid.

I felt every eye upon me as I stood there, hearing the priests chant the praises of Ma’at, listening to the hymns glorifying the goddess who weighs every human heart. I stood as tall and dignified as I could, keeping my eyes on the gateway to the goddess’s house.
Where are you, little priest?
I mused.
Are you already hiding inside the image of Ma’at, or do you have some other way to make your voice speak for her? What will you say when I finish speaking? Will you demand my death here and now, or will you merely proclaim my guilt and leave the details of my punishment to others? Will you roar with divine rage against me or sigh with regret over my “crimes” before condemning me? And when this is over, will you be proud of what you’ve done?

My legs grew stiff from standing so still for so long. Many of the people in the crowd shared my discomfort; I could hear them muttering and fidgeting. No matter how beautiful the poetry and songs offered to the goddess, they were long. If there was one prayer in everyone’s heart, it was for the priests to be done with all this and get to the event that everyone had come to see.

All at once, partway through yet another hymn extolling Ma’at’s beauty and virtue, a muffled clamor went up from the platform where the royal family sat. I heard Sitamun’s voice cry out, “Oh! He’s fainted!” and then confusion fell over the entire courtyard. Singers and musicians stumbled through a few more notes before stopping their song. Priests barked commands to slaves and servants, sending them scurrying in every direction. It was impossible to see what was happening on top of the royal platform, though plenty of people stood on tiptoe, straining for a glimpse of the goings-on in the shadow of Pharaoh’s canopy. One elegantly bejeweled nobleman tried climbing onto the shoulders of one of his servants, only to have the two of them tumble to the ground. Guards formed such a tight fence around the royal platform and maintained the barrier so zealously that the high priest of Ma’at had to bluster at them for a long time before they’d let him through. The spectators jabbered and babbled and made useless demands to be told what was going on. Two of the ladies present fainted, too (probably just to be part of the fuss).

At last we saw the high priest descend, followed by two muscular servants. They were very well dressed, unlike the humbler garb of the temple servants, so they were probably part of the royal entourage. With their hands linked to form a human chair, they carried the limp body of Amenophis between them. A third man walked behind, supporting the prince’s lolling head.

“Hmph. Well, I’m not surprised,” someone in the crowd remarked just loudly enough for me to hear. “He’s been a bit of a weakling since he was a child.”

A weakling?
I thought with scorn.
If you only knew! I’d like to see how you’d fare on a journey like the one he and I shared. But, oh, Amenophis, where’s your strength now? Was it the thought of what awaits me that stole it from you and struck you down?
My right foot stirred and took a step forward, unbidden. I was about to run after the servants who were carrying him away. I could feel desperate words rising to my lips: “Wake up! Come back! Don’t leave me! I can’t face this without y—!”

My panic-stricken thoughts died abruptly, as though one of the huge granite blocks of Hatshepsut’s stolen monuments had dropped on top of them. I forced myself to breathe calmly.

That’s not true
, I thought.
I can face this on my own. I am Nefertiti. I must
. And I remained standing as though carved from stone while the hubbub surrounding Amenophis’s collapse died away and the priests resumed their service to the goddess.

At last the singing and the music stopped, the prayers ended. The priest who’d brought me into the circle of feathers came forward and announced for all to hear that, with Pharaoh’s royal consent, the lady Nefertiti would speak. I heard Pharaoh Amenhotep’s familiar voice respond, “So let it be done.” He sounded so sad.

I licked my lips, which had gone terribly dry, cleared my throat, and spoke: “O Ma’at the Beautiful, the Changeless, Lady of the Hall of Judgment, I am Nefertiti, and I come into your house to ask for your eternal gift of justice. Your law holds the world in balance. You sustain the sun. You are the Perfect Measure of the heart after death. Measure my heart now, O Ma’at! Place it in the scales against the words that have been said against me and declare which one contains your sacred truth!”

My words were done. I’d said all that I could say. Silence settled over the courtyard like a layer of dust. No sound broke it, not even the creak of a leather sandal as its wearer shifted his weight, not even a cough or a sigh. Every eye, every ear was focused on the gateway to the goddess.

“O Nefertiti, daughter of Ay!”

The voice that boomed from the heart of Ma’at’s shrine was resonant and powerful, but pitched strangely high.
A man trying to imitate a woman’s voice
, I thought, and resigned myself to hear the hidden priest’s verdict. I heard gasps and murmurs from the crowd to my left and right, and a low, indistinct rumble from the royal platform.

“Silence for the Lady of the Twofold Truth!” Ma’at’s chief priest swept away every sound like a housewife chasing crumbs from her table. “Hear the goddess!”

“Nefertiti, I have seen your deeds and heard the words spoken against you.” The magic of deception was strong—the voice from the temple made the short hairs at the back of my neck rise up even though I knew it came from someone as human as myself. “I have set my Feather of Truth in the balance against the charges of sacrilege and blasphemy brought against you. See, I have weighed your heart! Let no one deny my enduring truth.” The voice paused for a moment, or for what might have been a hundred years, then said, “You are wrongfully accused. You are guiltless. You are free!”

I gasped and my legs crumpled under me. I fell to my knees in the circle of white feathers, while all around me the people cheered.

“Treachery!” A shriek from beneath the royal canopy tore through the sounds of rejoicing. Thutmose stood at the edge of the platform, his face dark with demonic rage. “Filth! Traitor! You declare her
innocent?”
He leaped from the platform and for a moment was a black shape against the sun. He landed in the courtyard with a cat’s grace, but with a serpent’s death-cold eyes. A dagger flashed from his belt to his hand. “I’ll teach you what happens to those who betray me!” he shouted into the shadows of the shrine, and plunged in.

The crowd burst into cries of dismay and horror, appalled by the prince’s impious act. To their eyes and ears, he had committed acts of sacrilege worse than any of the charges laid against me. He had smeared Ma’at’s holy name with atrocious insults. He had drawn a weapon in the house of the goddess!

“Stop him!” Pharaoh Amenhotep barked commands to every guardsman present. “Seize him, bring him out of Ma’at’s house now!” His men raced to obey.

I was on my feet when they dragged Prince Thutmose back into the courtyard. Two of them held him by the arms, but he still had the dagger clutched in his hand. Some of the other men bore the marks of it—shallow cuts and slashes—and were keeping their distance. He was still their prince, and they hadn’t found the nerve to disarm him. He thrashed in his captors’ grip, spewing threats and curses. He poured abuse on the heads of all the men who’d hauled him out of the temple, swearing he’d remember every one of their faces, and on the day that he was crowned pharaoh, he’d call for their deaths. He raved so fiercely that the guards holding him turned pale and exchanged uneasy looks. The crowd fell back as the guards hesitantly steered him toward the platform where his father stood waiting, his whole body trembling with rage.

Then Thutmose’s head swung toward me. His lips curled back, and in a voice that came from a place of endless, all-consuming darkness, he growled, “This is your doing. You wretched girl, you’ve destroyed my life, but I’ll end yours!”

With an unexpected twist of his body and two vicious slashes of his dagger, he was free of the guards who held him. As they staggered back into the arms of their fellow soldiers, their hands pressed to the wounds his blade had opened, Thutmose leaped straight at me.

I didn’t pause for any thought—I spun on my toes and ran. My skirt held me back, so I pulled it high and dashed away. The nobles who had come to witness my trial screeched and fled, but fear confused them and they wound up milling crazily in the courtyard, bright petals caught in a whirlpool. I dodged in and out among them with Thutmose after me. I heard grunts and screams in my wake. I prayed that all he was doing to clear his path was shoving the innocent aside. I ran faster and knew I was outdistancing him when I heard his foul curses receding behind me.

Then I heard him cry out in fury and frustration, “No! Let me go! She’s
mine
. Release me, or your life will pay me back for hers! Ah, you dog, you dare to take a prince’s dagger? I’ll still make you bleed—”

One of the temple singers, a motherly priestess, came up behind me and gathered me into her arms. “It’s all right now, Lady Nefertiti,” she said. “See? You’re safe.” She gently pried the bunched-up fabric of my dress from my rigid grasp, smoothed it back into place, then turned us both around to view the courtyard. Thutmose was once more in the grip of his father’s guards, except now he was without his weapon. They brought him to the foot of the platform where his father waited.

“Take him away,” Pharaoh said. His voice was drenched in a bitterness and grief that broke my heart.

11
H
ATHOR’S
G
IFT

The rest of that day became a blur for me. I know that someone must have brought me back to my rooms, because that was where I was when my maids lit the lamps and offered me dinner.