The Heretic Queen (39 page)

As my fourteen days passed, Ramesses came to me every afternoon to tell me the news of the Audience Chamber, bringing me presents of honeyed dates and pomegranate wine. At night, when the nurses had wrapped our sons in blankets and placed them in the pavilion's private chamber, Ramesses lit the oil lamps and climbed into my bed. And there, surrounded by gifts from foreign kingdoms, we studied the day's petitions together.

For a short while, I knew the perfect life. I wasn't in the Great Hall to hear the gossip about me, and I didn't have to see Rahotep's frightening grin. But the world could not be kept at bay forever, and the news that came into our happy pavilion and disturbed me the most was not about myself, but about Egypt's security.

"I won't let this go on!" Ramesses raged on my last night in the birthing pavilion. He pointed to the pile of growing petitions from Memphis. "Sherden pirates attacking our ships along the River Nile. Sherden pirates attacking our ships in Kadesh!"

"The same pirates who overtook the Mycenaean King's ship and stole the gifts that were meant for little Amunher and Prehir," I reminded, and Ramesses's face reddened.

"We won't let it continue. We will wait until Tybi," he said decisively. He wouldn't risk leaving Iset before she delivered her child, not knowing whether she lived or died. "And if these Sherden attack another Egyptian ship, or even a ship that's bound for Egypt, they'll be humbled by what will be waiting for them."

In the Audience Chamber the next day, the viziers crowded around the base of the dais, greeting me with unusually low bows as I took my seat. But when Rahotep smiled strangely at me, I felt the sudden urge to hold my sons. I knew that they were safe, yet as Ramesses struck his crook on the floor of the dais, and as the viziers took their seats, I had to remind myself that there was no better nurse in Egypt than Merit.

"Bring forth the petitioners," Ramesses announced. The doors swung open, and a figure crossed the tiles of the chamber. I recognized Ahmoses and his shepherd's staff at once. He didn't stop at the table where the viziers were waiting but came straight toward me. When the soldiers stepped forward to pull him back, I raised my hand to let them know that the Habiru should come forth.

"Princess Nefertari." Unlike our previous meeting, Ahmoses bowed briefly before my throne. I wondered if this was because Ramesses was present. No one in Egypt would dare to come before a Pharaoh without bowing. I didn't wait for him to rise. "How did you know I would have twin sons?"

"Because Queen Nefertiti gave Pharaoh Akhenaten twins," he replied, meeting my gaze. "I said nothing about sons."

Though we were speaking in Canaanite, I still glanced at Ramesses. He was watching us with a peculiar expression. "You are
never
to mention the names of the Heretic Rulers in Thebes," I said harshly.

"The Heretic
Rulers?
" Ahmoses frowned. "Akhenaten, yes. But your aunt . . ." He shook his head.

"Are you saying," I demanded, "that she didn't worship Aten?"

"She only worshipped Aten while her husband still lived. Otherwise, she allowed shrines to be built to the gods that her husband had abandoned."

Now both Ramesses and Iset had stopped listening to petitions. Both of them were watching me. "What are you saying?" I grew flustered.

"I am saying that Queen Nefertiti never stopping praying to Amun. She was not a heretic, as Pharaoh Horemheb called her."

"How do you know this?"

"Because I saw her shrines, and I watched your mother accompany the queen to the hidden temples of Tawaret. There was great danger in what your aunt was doing. If her husband had discovered it, he would have cast her off and taken Princess Kiya as Chief Wife instead."

I was aware that even though we were speaking Canaanite, the entire chamber had become my audience. "You have been to the palace of Malkata three times," I said angrily. "What is your purpose?"

"To remind you that your aunt suffered in the name of her gods. She wasn't free to worship as she wished. Instead, she had to bow to Aten, and your mother--"

"My mother never bowed to Aten!"

"But there were times when she wondered if she should, when the pressure was so great she would have done anything to escape it. Your family suffered like the Habiru are suffering--"

"Pharaoh will not set the Habiru free!" I swore. "They are a part of his army."

Ahmoses searched my face, to see if I might change my mind, and when he saw that I wouldn't, he shook his head and turned away. I watched him make his way across the chamber. When he reached the guards, I heard myself exclaim, "Wait!"

He turned slowly to face me, and I stood from my throne.

"What are you doing?" Ramesses asked. But I walked beyond the viziers' tables and met Ahmoses at the heavy bronze doors. The courtiers had stopped playing Senet to listen, but even if they could understand Canaanite, I lowered my voice so that only Ahmoses would hear. "Come again in Thoth," I told him.

"Will the Habiru be set free with the next new year?"

I hesitated. Because Ramesses trusted me, it was possible that I could persuade him. But was I willing to risk the safety of Egypt because one Habiru had revealed to me the truth about my ancestors? "I . . . I don't know. In eight months, a great deal can change."

"You mean perhaps, by then, you will be queen?"

I felt the eyes of the entire court boring into my back and whispered, "Have you heard what the people are saying about my sons?"

Ahmoses didn't flinch or look away. And he didn't lie, as one of the courtiers might have. "Your mother was known for her honesty at court, and I believe the same of her daughter," he said. "I have told the Habiru that Prince Amunher and Prince Prehir are royal sons."

I closed my eyes briefly. "My husband thinks he can threaten gossip away. He swears that anyone speaking such things will be sent to the quarries, but you and I know . . . Will you tell the rest of the people?" I asked, and I was aware of how desperate I had become that I was asking a favor from a heretic. "Will you spread the word in eastern Thebes?" I repeated.

Ahmoses regarded me for a moment, and instead of naming a price, as I thought he might, simply nodded his assent.

LATER THAT evening, before Ramesses visited my chamber, I told Merit what had happened. "He told me she never worshipped Aten."

Merit stood from the brazier where she was setting aloe wood to flame. Poorer households used cow dung and river reeds for their fires, but the scent of aloe has a calming effect, and through the open door to Merit's chamber I could see that my sons were already asleep. Her brows drew together until they formed a dark line.

"Well, you were there!" I said passionately. "Is it
true?
"

Merit sat on the edge of the bed with me. "I saw her worship Aten, my lady."

"Because she had to?"

Merit spread her palms. "Perhaps."

"But did you see her go to other shrines as well? Did she secretly worship Tawaret, or Amun?"

"Yes, when it pleased her," she admitted.

"And when was that?"

"When she wasn't worshipping herself," Merit said with brutal honesty.

It was as though a heavy stone had been lifted from my chest. Perhaps she had been selfish, and greedy, and vain. Perhaps these things all went against the laws of Ma'at. But there was nothing worse than heresy. And she had not been a heretic.

The door of my chamber opened. Ramesses came inside and Merit stood to bow. As soon as she left, I joined Ramesses on the long leather bench near the fire and told him what Ahmoses had said. For several moments he was silent, then he placed the scrolls he had brought with him on a low table next to the brazier, and said, "I
knew
that what they taught in the edduba wasn't true. How could anyone related to you be a heretic, Nefer? Look at your mother; look at
you!
" His voice rose in excitement. "And what does Merit say?"

"The same as Ahmoses. She had seen my aunt worshipping at Tawaret's shrine." I held my breath, wondering if this was the moment he would decide to make me Chief Wife. If I could have silently willed the decision into his heart, I would have then.

He took my hands and swore, "The people may not know the truth, Nefertari, but we do. And someday, I will resurrect the names of your
akhu
in Egypt."

I was disappointed. "Until then?"

Color tinged Ramesses's cheeks. Surely he knew what I'd been hoping for. "Until then, we will try to change the people's hearts."

CHAPTER NINETEEN

SEKHMET'S CLAWS

IN THE DAYS after Ahmoses's visit, I thought a great deal about my family and wished for things that could never be. I wished I could have gone with Asha to Amarna and seen the crumbling walls and abandoned remains of the city that Nefertiti had built. I longed to tear down every statue to Horemheb the way he tore down the statues of Ay and Tutankhamun, or wipe his name from the scrolls just as he tried to wipe away theirs. To avoid being consumed with vengeance, I spent my time thinking about my sons. I tried not to love them as much as I did; I knew that half of all children born never reached the age of three. But every day with my sons was an adventure, and neither Ramesses nor I could help but take them into our arms whenever our time in the Audience Chamber was finished. We laughed over the new faces they made when they were happy, or tired, or frustrated, or sad. By Tybi, they had their own little personalities, so that at night when I heard them crying from Merit's chamber, I could tell their cries apart. Even after a long day of petitioners, I would sit up, and Ramesses would follow me to Merit's door. "Go to sleep," I'd tell him, but he wanted to be awake with me. So he would take Prehir, and I would take Amunher, and we would rock them by the light of the moon and smile at each other on those clear late-autumn nights.

"Can you imagine the day they're old enough to hunt with us?" Ramesses asked one evening.

I laughed. "
Hunting?
Merit probably won't even allow them to go swimming!"

Ramesses grinned. "She's a good nurse, isn't she?"

I looked down at Prehir's contented face in my arms, and nodded. During the day, I doubted if our sons even noticed we were gone. They ate and slept under Merit's supervision, and she was the perfect
mawat,
watching over them with a lioness's ferocity.