The Heretic Queen (23 page)

I took my free hand and placed it over Pharaoh's. "Thank you," I told him. "I will try never to disappoint you."

He smiled, but not at me. His look was far away, and only later would I understand how a son's marriage can be both happy and sad. Of course, a father is hopeful for all of the events in the future, but he is also reminded of the family members who are not there to celebrate with him. And when a son begins producing heirs, spinning Khnum's potter wheel of creation faster and faster, he must begin to imagine his own potter's wheel slowing down. But I was too young to understand this then.

IN THE tiled hall outside my chamber, Asha was waiting. His arms were folded over his chest, and in the light of the torches, I searched his face to see if he was angry. As soon as he saw us, he straightened, and Woserit was discreet enough to join Merit inside my room.

"Asha," I said cautiously. "I'm sorry I missed you in the Great Hall tonight."

"You were surrounded by courtiers. I'll have to grow used to that now." I felt as though a heavy stone had been lifted from my chest, and when he stepped forward to embrace me, I did the same. "I'm very happy for you," he said.

"But you told me--"

He nodded. "That was before I knew how much Ramesses needed you."

I flinched at the word. Did he need me, or love me?

"But I still think you've chosen a dangerous road. Tomorrow, Pharaoh wants you to meet the people. He wants Ramesses to see their reaction before he makes a choice about Chief Wife. There are many other women in the harem."

"If you have come here to insult me--"

Asha grabbed my arm. "Nefertari, I'm only trying to tell you the truth. Pharaoh Seti and Ramesses live their lives sheltered inside this palace.
I
see the people on the streets. I hear what they say, and you need to be careful tomorrow."

I saw the concern in his eyes and nodded. "We will take guards," I assured him.

"Make sure there are enough. At least two dozen, no matter what Ramesses says."

"Do you think they'll be that angry?" I whispered.

"I don't know. There are many people who still remember . . ." But he didn't finish. "This will be the fourth year that the Nile has been low, and there's talk that in the poorer sections of Thebes people are already starving. If the river doesn't flood its banks by the end of this month, famine will spread, and the people will want someone to blame."

I felt the color drain from my face. "Not me?"

"Just be prepared."

"I will," I promised. We parted and I entered my chamber. In the light of the brazier, Woserit's face appeared sharp and beautiful.

"How is Asha?"

"Concerned about what might happen tomorrow," I told her.

"Then he's a good friend to have. I will not always be in the palace to help you, Nefertari, so you must learn to recognize who can be trusted and who cannot. Once you marry Ramesses, there is no one in Malkata who will tell you the truth."

"Merit," I protested.

"Yes, Merit. She will be able to hear the whispers in the halls of the palace, but who will tell you about the conspiracies closer to your throne? Those conspiracies inside the Audience Chamber?"

I thought of Seti's words about the dangerous road I had chosen. "On the evenings that Ramesses is with Iset," she suggested, "meet Paser in his chamber. You may trust him to tell you what is truly happening in Thebes. And whenever I can, I will be there as well." The flames of the brazier illuminated the paintings in her old room, and as I stood there in her rich cloak, I wondered again why Woserit was doing so much for me. She reached into her linen belt and produced a small statue of Hathor. "For tonight. Place it under your pillow and she will bring you fertility."

"Thank you," I whispered. I brushed the goddess's face with my thumb. She had been carved from ebony and wore the tall modius headdress that Woserit did, with its small horns and sun disc.

"All will be well tomorrow," she promised. "Be strong of heart." Woserit embraced me, and as the door clicked shut behind her, Merit burst from her chamber next to mine.

"Have you decided which oil you want for your hair?"

I shook my head.

"Then what cream shall we use?"

"I don't know."

"Well, hurry, my lady! Pharaoh is coming!"

Inside the robing room, I slipped from my sheath, and Merit filled the basin with hot water. "What's the matter, my lady? Tomorrow you marry and it will be done!" She tested the surface with her hand, and beckoned me in.

"Asha just told me I should be prepared for anything," I confided. Rainbows swirled over the surface of the water as light from the lamps filtered onto my bath. As I stepped into the tub, I could smell the lotus oil that Merit had added to keep my skin smooth.

"And what is anything?" Merit scrubbed at my hair.

"This is the fourth year the Nile has been low . . . what if they blame me?"

"Why would you say such a thing? You are a princess of Egypt, not some all-powerful goddess. I'm sure the people know the difference."

When my bath was finished, Merit dried my legs and handed me a fresh sheath. I sat before the mirror, studying my reflection while she combed my hair. I opened the lowest drawer of my chest and took out the cream Merit had gone to the farthest market in Thebes to purchase. I rubbed it over my arms, then down my legs.

There was a knock at the door. Merit's chin wobbled furiously.
"Hurry!"

I rushed to prop myself up against the pillows, allowing my hair to spill onto the white linen, and when Merit opened the door I held my breath just in case it was a dream.

But she bowed very low. "Your Highness."

"Nurse Merit," Ramesses said in greeting.

"The princess Nefertari is waiting for you." She gestured toward me on the bed, and when she reached the door to her chamber, said loudly. "Good night, my lady."

When the door swung shut, Ramesses looked at me, and both of us laughed. "She'll be waiting on the other side of the door all night," I whispered.

"As a good nurse should," he teased. "In case you should scream and want to run away." He approached the bed, and I slipped the
nemes
crown from his brow, running my fingers through his hair. "As you did once before," Ramesses said quietly.

The pain in his eyes wrenched at my heart. "But now I am here," I promised, and let the sheath I was wearing fall from one of my shoulders. "Here with you for eternity."

"And this time I won't let you run away."

WHEN RAMESSES and I emerged from his chamber the next morning, we walked together to the lakeside, and the cheers from the courtiers who were waiting for our arrival must have reached the ears of the gods themselves. Ramesses took my hand in his, and the viziers of Seti's court surrounded us, talking and smiling as though they had supported my marriage all along. Although Iset had claimed an indisposition and remained inside Malkata, the rest of the court was in attendance. Even Queen Tuya spared a smile for me. Her
iwiw
bared his fangs, and a low growl rumbled in his skinny throat.

"Hello, Adjo," I said cheerfully.

I smiled at the thought that I might never have to see him again. Tonight, there would be a feast of both celebration and farewell, and tomorrow Pharaoh Seti would sail with his half of the royal court to the palace in Avaris. Ramesses had been fully trained in the Audience Chamber; now he would rule Upper Egypt on his own. His father, in his advancing age, would reign in the capital of Lower Egypt, where less would be required of him. This move had been planned for many years, yet even though Ramesses had always known it was coming, I saw his lips turn down in sorrow when he gazed across the lake. The eastern horizon was obscured by his father's towering ships. They floated like pregnant herons on the water, their decks filled with some of the most valuable treasures in Thebes: ebony statues and granite tables, rare sedan chairs with wide lion's-paw feet. While some kings were content to remain in the same city as their coregents, governing from the very same Audience Chamber, Pharaoh Seti now wanted a simpler life. Once he reached Avaris, there would not be so many petitioners, and in his summer palace closer to the sea, there would never be the kind of heat that sucked the life from the air as it did nearly every month in Thebes.

The court had assembled itself on the quay, while a small golden vessel was rowed to the shore. It would fit only three people: myself, Merit, and a ferryman. Once Pharaoh Seti gave his permission, we would be rowed the short distance to the Temple of Karnak. Behind us, Ramesses would sail in his own golden bark, accompanied by his parents and rowed by a single soldier from Pharaoh's army: Asha. Behind them the court would follow in a flotilla of brightly painted boats. When I asked Merit once why a Pharaoh's marriage begins on the water instead of the land, she told me that it was because Egypt had been born from the Watery Waste of Nun, and if such a fertile land could be birthed from the water, a fertile marriage would as well.

I stood on the quayside, separated from Ramesses by hundreds of courtiers in their whitest linens and finest gold, waiting for Pharaoh Seti to give his blessing. When the piercing sounds of several trumpets blared, Pharaoh Seti said something I couldn't hear. But he must have given his blessing to set sail, for Merit took my arm and led me to the boat, helping me inside and arranging my cloak so that it fanned out around my legs like a lotus blossom. She seated herself next to me, as straight and serious as Paser. When I opened my mouth to speak, she shook her head firmly. I was meant to be a silent bride, timorously approaching my fate, even though inside my heart was soaring. I knew that I shouldn't turn around. I didn't want to appear like a goose craning its neck to see what was happening in every direction, so I looked ahead as our boat left the lake in front of the palace, and entered the main current of the River Nile itself. Thousands of people stood on the banks, crushed together to see the spectacle of the court sailing beneath Pharaoh's golden pennants. They had chanted eagerly for Iset when she had been married, yet now there was silence.

I glanced at Merit, and she returned my uneasy gaze. It was as if someone had taken a heavy sheet of linen and draped it across the people on the shore. Only the muffled sound of children crying reached us on the river, and Merit turned her sharp eyes on the ferryman.

"What is the talk in Thebes?" she demanded.

"In Thebes?" he repeated.

"Yes! What are they saying about her? She already knows she's the Heretic's niece. There's nothing you can say that will shock her. Just tell us the truth so we can be prepared."

The man looked at me, and his face was sorrowful. "Since Pharaoh Ramesses announced his intention to marry the princess yesterday, my lady, there is talk that she may be the reason for the famine all of these years." The ferryman's voice shook. "They think she has brought bad luck to the city. Her
akhu
angered the gods so deeply that once Pharaoh makes her his wife, they will turn away from Egypt completely. I'm sorry, Princess."

I held on to the sides of the boat so that my sudden dizziness would not overwhelm me, and I looked ahead at the unwelcoming faces of the people on the riverbank. Their silence was terrifying. What were they waiting for? That Ramesses might change his mind?