The Heretic Queen (30 page)

WEIGH EACH HEART ALONE

"MY LADY!" Merit cried. "My lady, it's happening!"

I glanced at Woserit, and when Paser opened his chamber door, Merit's face was flushed. "Vizier. My lady," she acknowledged briefly, then stepped inside. "The princess Iset is having her child!"

I stood quickly, but Woserit held out her hand. "Go--dress carefully. You want him to see that while Iset is sweating like a heifer, you are young and fresh."

My heart beat faster. There was always the possibility that Iset wouldn't survive the birth. But I knew I shouldn't let Tawaret hear such thoughts. The goddess would punish unkindness and spite.

"None of us can predict when Anubis will come. Not even for Iset. But if she lives," Woserit added firmly, "don't expect Ramesses to see you at night the way he has these past months. He will follow tradition and spend ten days with her."

"With a crying infant?"

"Of course not," Merit said. "The baby will sleep with its nurse."

I returned to my chamber to put on my best sheath and most elaborate wig. But as Merit began to paint my eyes, bells rang in the courtyards of Malkata.

"Three times if it's a son," Merit whispered.

We held our breath and waited. The bells pealed three times, then there was a pause while the priestesses waited, and rang their bells three times again. I jumped from my stool and ran.

"Your cloak!" Merit cried after me. "It's cold!"

But I couldn't feel the early morning mist. How would fatherhood change Ramesses? Would he come to me less and stay in Iset's chamber more? I rushed through the polished halls toward the very birthing pavilion that had been built by my grandfather. But I stopped when I saw the crowd of courtiers huddled outside the heavy wooden doors. No one was to be allowed within.

Henuttawy saw me and smiled. "Princess Nefertari." She took in the careful beading of my sheath with a quick, calculating glance. "My sister polished you into a little queen and thought to place you next to the king as Chief Wife. But that is not going to happen now."

I met her gaze. "How would you know? No one
truly
believes that you're the mouth of Isis."

She tensed, then saw Woserit coming toward us and whispered triumphantly, "I know because Iset has just given Ramesses a son. A healthy prince of Egypt. Ramesses would be a fool not to make her queen now."

"Ah, Henuttawy!" Woserit said. "You must be happy to hear that Iset has given Ramesses a boy. After all, this child might have been the son of Ashai if not for you."

Henuttawy's red lips formed a dark, thin line, and I realized why Woserit had not mentioned the name of Ashai since Iset had first spoken it in anger. She had been waiting, gathering information. Now she turned to me, and her eyes were very bright.

"You see, Nefertari, before she married Ramesses, Iset was in love with a young Habiru named Ashai. Unfortunately, he was only an artist, and when Iset's grandmother discovered them together in her chamber, she threatened to disinherit her. But Iset didn't care. She was in love, and when my sweet sister heard of this, she saw an opportunity: a beautiful harem daughter the same age as Ramesses who had entered into a secret romance. So easy to manipulate! Knowing my sister, she probably sent someone else to scare off Ashai."

Henuttawy swore angrily, "Still shaming Hathor with your lies!"

"Maybe it was a servant, or perhaps someone more powerful, like the High Priest of Amun. Imagine," Woserit continued in her most conspiratorial voice. "You're a young Habiru artist and the High Priest arrives in his leopard robes and tells you that the woman you love is destined for the prince. Any man would have enough sense to leave her alone. So Ashai left Iset for a Habiru girl, and the path was clear to push Iset toward the dais. All my sister would ask for in exchange would be patronage for her temple. Of course, Iset still believes that Ashai simply lost interest in her. Imagine how she would feel if she knew what my sister had done!"

I didn't know where Woserit had come by her information, but she had placed it like an offering at my feet.

"Nefertari would be a fool to open her mouth. If she ever speaks such nonsense to Ramesses," Henuttawy threatened, "I would turn every priest in Thebes against her."

Woserit shrugged. "They're already against her. You don't think we know that if you had the opportunity to ruin Nefertari, you would have already done so?"

The door to the birthing pavilion swung open. A delighted Ramesses emerged, and I felt a sharp stab of disappointment knowing that Iset had been the one to make him so happy. He saw me, and Woserit whispered, "Put a
smile
on your face."

"Nefertari!" Ramesses shouted from across the courtyard, and I wondered selfishly if Iset could hear him calling my name from inside the pavilion. He was striding toward us, brushing past the courtiers' bows. "Did you hear?" he asked joyously.

"Yes." I smiled, though I'm sure it looked more like the grimace of Bes. "A son."

"And Iset is healthy! She's already asked for a harp to be moved into the pavilion. Have you ever heard of such a swift recovery?"

"No." I swallowed my pain and added, "The gods must be watching over Malkata."

This was what Ramesses wanted to hear. A breath of wind brushed the blue and gold flaps of his
nemes
crown behind his shoulders, and even in the gray of morning he appeared radiant. I had never seen him so proud, and again wished I had been the one to cause it.

"A feast must be prepared," he said. "Tell the viziers that all of Thebes should celebrate. Every worker will have the day off."

THE REED mats were lowered in Paser's chamber, while outside the priestesses continued to toll their bells.

"What have they named him?" Woserit asked grimly.

"Akori," Paser replied. "But just because it's a son doesn't mean he'll be made heir to the throne. He's simply a prince."

"The eldest prince," I reminded, "and if Ramesses doesn't choose--"

"And he's never mentioned making you Chief Wife?"

I shook my head sadly at Paser's question. "No."

"Not even at night when he goes to your chamber?" Woserit pressed.

"Never."

"So what is he waiting for?" she demanded.

"Maybe he's waiting to see if Nefertari can give him an heir."

We all looked down at my belly, and although my nipples had recently darkened and Merit thought that it might be a sign of a child, I looked the same as I had the month before. Then a heavy knock resounded through Paser's chamber, and my heart pounded in my chest.

"My nurse," I whispered. "She promised she'd come with any news." I rushed from my stool, and outside, Merit was wringing her hands.

"Something's happening in the birthing pavilion."

Woserit rose quickly. "How do you know?"

"Three physicians entered and haven't come out. Do you want me to go and deliver the princess fresh linens?"

"You mean spy?" I exclaimed.

"Of course, my lady! We don't know what's going on in there. What if she tempts him to make her Chief Wife?"

Then we'll want to be the first to know,
I thought, but stopped myself. "But if it's not in Ramesses's heart to make me queen--"

"Forget such foolishness!" Woserit said. "We all
know
it's in his heart. But Iset will try to tempt his reason. The entire court will be there telling him that he is eighteen and that a Chief Wife must be chosen. Go," she said eagerly. "Go and find out what's happening." Woserit turned to me. "You should be in your own chamber. In case Ramesses comes looking for you. If there is something wrong with Iset, you want it to be your shoulder that he weeps on."

I sat in my chamber and waited for news from the birthing pavilion. When the afternoon passed and there was still no word from anyone, I motioned to a passing servant in the hall. Tefer arched his body against my leg, curious to know what was happening as well.

"Do you know what's happening in the birthing pavilion?"

The young girl lowered her reed basket to make the proper obeisance to me, but I waved it away. "Just tell me what you know."

"The princess Iset has just had a son!"

"I know that! But why have the bells stopped ringing?"

She looked at me with wide, uncomprehending eyes. "Perhaps because the priestesses grew tired?"

I sighed in frustration, then made my way out toward the Great Hall, where the court was already celebrating. In a corner with the High Priest of Amun, Henuttawy was laughing. The clink of her bangles, the way she placed her delicate hand on his knee--it was like seeing a swan trying to mate with a hyena. But there was no sign of Woserit or Paser, and Merit was not there either. Platters of duck in roasted onion had been served, and barrels of the kitchen's best wine had been opened. But the servants were watching one another nervously. I approached the cook, who saw me coming and desperately tried to make himself busy. But I caught his eye before he could take a handful of empty bowls from the table.

"What's the matter?" I asked him. "Why isn't anyone preparing for tonight?"

Nervous sweat appeared at the top of his heavy brow. "There are great preparations happening, my lady. There is meat and wine--"

"You don't have to pretend with me," I told him. "What have you heard?"

The cook cleared his throat and placed the bowls back on the table. He exchanged a glance with his two assistants, who quickly disappeared. Lowering his voice, for fear the gossip might reach Henuttawy's ears, he continued. "The prince, my lady. There is talk among the servants that the Birth Feast might not take place tonight."

I stepped forward. "
Why?
"

"Because the young prince is not as well as they thought. There is news he might--" He wouldn't go on, for fear of calling Anubis to a place where new life had just entered.

"Thank you," I told him and went back to my chamber to wait. I kneeled on my reed mat, then lit a cone of incense beneath Mut's feet. I imagined the pain of having my own child taken from me and pleaded for the
ka
of the little boy who might never feel his father's embrace. "He's too young," I beseeched Tawaret. "And Ramesses has just become a father. I know you have never heard Akori's name, but he is my husband's child and hasn't lived long enough to offend anyone in this life."

The door to my chamber opened, and Merit came in, followed by Woserit.

"I heard," I said solemnly, and stood. "A cook in the Great Hall told me."

Woserit sniffed the air and regarded me with a strange expression. "And you were praying for the princess's son?" Woserit shook her head. "Then you can save your incense," she said plainly. "The prince has already died."

"And the woman you were praying for just now," Merit added, "has accused you of stealing her child's
ka
and killing him!"

"
What?
Who did she say this to?" I cried. "When?"

"To everyone in the birthing pavilion," Woserit replied.

I thought I might faint. Merit rushed to bring me a stool, while Woserit said something about everyone in Thebes hearing Iset's accusation by nightfall.