The Heretic Queen (46 page)

"Don't listen to her," Rahotep said sharply.

But I challenged the High Priest, "How do you know it's not Anubis? Where else would he be if not in this Valley?"

"Be silent!" Henuttawy snapped. Her voice echoed over the cliffs, and from the front of the procession, near the sarcophagus, Ramesses turned to see the cause of the commotion. Henuttawy lowered her voice. "Be
silent,
" she threatened.

"Does the idea of Anubis stalking through these hills
frighten
you? I'm not afraid of death. When he comes for me, there is nothing I have to hide."

Behind me, Merit sucked in her breath.

Henuttawy hissed, "Have respect for the dead."

"By
dancing and gossiping?
"

We reached the mouth of the tomb, and Ramesses dropped back to walk at my side. "What is this whispering?"

"Henuttawy has said she wants to lead us into the tomb," I invented. "She wants to be the first to see her brother's sarcophagus placed inside its burial chamber."

Ramesses looked at Henuttawy. Even in the low light of the flickering torches I could see that she had lost the color in her cheeks. "That's very loyal," he said. "You may go after Penre. He will show you the way."

Henuttawy turned her dark eyes on me, but she didn't argue. She raised her chin and stepped after Penre, leading the procession into total darkness. Woserit dug her nails into my arm, warning me to be careful. But what was there to lose? Important courtiers followed after us, and armed guards stood watch at the mouth of the chamber to see that no one else was let inside. We descended the stairs into the belly of the earth, taking care not to touch the walls where images of Seti's life had been painted. Penre had told us that there was no other tomb in Egypt as long or deep as this, and when the air grew dank, I wrapped my cloak tighter around my waist. We moved through the first and second corridors by torchlight, and when we reached a four-pillared hall, the procession paused. I marveled at the shrine to Osiris and the scenes from the Book of Gates. "It's beautiful," I whispered, and Ramesses held my shoulder. "Your father would be proud."

"Doesn't this frighten you?" Iset whispered. Ramesses let go of my shoulder and took Iset's arm. "As a child, I watched my father build this tomb," he said. We moved into another passage, deeper still. When the High Priest removed the ebony adze that hung from his neck, to begin the Opening of the Mouth Ceremony, Iset began to shake. The ceremony would give Seti his breath in the Afterlife. Rahotep placed the adze against Seti's mouth, and I watched as Henuttawy stood as still as a figure carved in stone. After all, what words might Seti say if he again drew earthly breath?

"Awake!" The High Priest's voice resounded in the chamber. Queen Tuya stifled a sob. Ramesses held her while I stood close to Merit. "May you be alive and breathing as a living one, healthy and rejuvenated every day. May the gods protect you where you are now, giving you food to eat and fresh water to drink. If there are any words you wish to say, speak them now, that all of Egypt may hear."

The viziers shifted uncomfortably with their torches, and the courtiers held their breath to listen. When there was silence, I imagined that I saw Henuttawy smile thinly at Iset. Then the sarcophagus was lifted through the narrow corridor into its final chamber. The small party turned to Henuttawy, who would be the first to kiss the Canopic jars and see the sarcophagus lowered into the black void of the shaft below. We watched her step forward. Then she knelt in the dirt and quickly kissed the jars that would carry Seti's poisoned organs into the Afterlife.

Rahotep, raising the adze in his hands, repeated a solemn passage from the Book of the Dead. "My breath is returned to me by the gods. The bonds that gag my mouth have been loosened and now I am free. Those who have done me harm in my life, I kindly forgive, for the gods will punish you, not me."

Henuttawy stood, wiping the dirt from her sheath.

SITTING IN my chamber around the warmth of the brazier, I told Woserit and Paser what I suspected about Iset. Woserit gazed at the flames in silence, while Paser cradled a cup of warm Sermet beer in his hands. But neither was as surprised as I had thought they would be.

"She had to be someone's daughter," Paser said at length. "Everyone assumed it was some nobleman at court."

"But she's the child of the man who killed my family!" I cried. "He's the murderer of Nefertiti. And if he set the fire . . ." My throat began to close with emotion. "Then he is the murderer of two generations. Do you think he would hesitate to commit another?"

But neither Woserit nor Paser seemed to see the danger I did in the prospect. They were more concerned about the coronation, and Woserit asked sternly, "Is there any chance he will crown you queen?"

I shook my head. "He will never break his promise to his father. But as for Iset, Merit reported seeing a man near her rooms last night."

Both Woserit and Paser sat forward. This news, at least, appeared to shock them as much as it had me.

"Who was it?"
Paser demanded.

I turned up my palms. "She couldn't see."

"It might have been the Habiru Ashai," Woserit guessed immediately.

"No. I'm sure she's not
that
foolish," I replied.

But Woserit shook her head. "I wouldn't be surprised if she paid a servant to go in search of him."

"She's desperate," Paser added. "Who does she have to turn to? Not Pharaoh. Not Henuttawy. She already owes the High Priestess of Isis more than she may ever be able to give."

Woserit rested a hand on my knee. "Rahotep can do
nothing
more for her. He can't speak too loudly against you because his past is still his prison. Iset may not know this yet, but we do."

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

FOR THE KING IS RA

RAMESSES'S WIDE PECTORAL caught the morning sun, and the blue faience tiles across the dais made it seem as though he was walking on water as he approached his new throne. It was seven days after Pharaoh Seti's burial, and thousands of noblemen filled the Temple of Amun at Karnak from cities as far away as Memphis. I wondered what they thought of crowning a king without his queen. From my place beside Iset on the third step of the dais, I looked down at my sons in their milk nurses' arms. They were such bright, happy babies. I felt the burning need to know that they would always be safe, that they would never be subjected to Iset's whims if I were to die and she were made queen.

A trumpet pierced the crisp air of Pharmuthi, silencing the courtiers in their fur-lined sandals and heavy cloaks. And though I hadn't been chosen for Chief Wife, Ramesses glanced at me as Rahotep placed the red and white
pschent
crown on his brow. Several of the viziers did the same, and of those who were gathered on the dais, only Queen Tuya with her ill-tempered
iwiw
avoided my gaze.

"For the King is Ra," Rahotep declared. "He is the creator of all things, the begetter of the begotten. He is Bastet who protects the Two Lands, and the one who praises him will be protected by his arm. He is Sekhmet against those who disobey his orders, and Lord-south-of-his-wall. And now he is Pharaoh of all of Egypt, Ramesses the Second and Ramesses the Great."

Cheers erupted throughout the temple. When Ramesses descended the dais, the chanting was so loud no one could hear him when he held my chin and swore, "If not for my promise . . ."

But no one in the chamber missed his kiss on Amunher's head, and when he took our son in his arms, Ramesses's meaning was clear. Amunher was the future of Egypt. Queen Tuya's glare could not stop Ramesses from raising our son above the crowds. While young dancing girls beat their ivory clappers together, Rahotep passed Henuttawy a meaningful look.

I grasped Merit's hand; she had seen it, too. My sons could not leave her sight for a moment; every dish brought to the milk nurses' chamber must be sampled by palace tasters first. Though Ramesses held out his arm for me to take, I remained where I stood.

"Go with Pharaoh," Merit prompted in my ear. "Nothing will happen."

"But Rahotep--"

Merit pushed me forward. "I'll be watching."

In the courtyard outside of Karnak's temple, Thebans waited to see who Ramesses would take into his chariot. He had kissed Amunher before the court, and now, before the cheering crowds of Egypt, he offered me his hand. I held my breath, dreading that the people should fall silent, but instead, their cries became thunderous. As we rode through the streets in a procession of soldiers and golden chariots, Ramesses turned to me and smiled.

"You are conquering their hearts. You really are a Warrior Queen, Nefertari."

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

TO THE RIGHT OF THE KING

IN THE AUDIENCE Chamber, Ramesses still wore his
nemes
crown. He appeared no different to me than three months earlier, when only Thebes had been his to govern. But the palace of Malkata had certainly changed since his coronation. The walls had been stripped of their vermillion rugs, and from every niche the statues had been taken and placed in wooden chests bound for the palace of Pi-Ramesses. Wherever I went in the halls of the palace, servants were carrying heavy reed baskets, filling them with every conceivable luxury that the city of Avaris might lack. Few petitioners ventured into the Audience Chamber with the palace in such a state, so when Ahmoses appeared and demanded to see me, Paser waved him by, already knowing what my answer to the Habiru's request would be.