The Pharaoh's Daughter (27 page)

When she opened her eyes, Mandai stood blocking the center aisle, strong and immovable as the dark stones of Coptos.

“I do not wish to kill you, brothers,” he said, “but King Tut has charged me to protect Amira Anippe.”

Her captors backed away. Nassor stood, shaky but able, and helped Anippe to her feet. Head held high, Mandai led her from the room, Nassor serving as rear guard.

Anippe didn't speak until she was sure they weren't being watched or followed. “I'm not going back to my room, and I'm not meeting that reptile tomorrow morning.”

Mandai kept watch all the way through the pillared corridor between the harem and the king's private residence. “I'm sorry to disagree, Amira, but for now, you are going back to your chamber—to gather food and wait for me. Nassor will stay with you until Ankhe returns from the banquet.” They arrived at the northern-most corner of the harem. “By that time, I will find a way to rescue Amenia, and I'll bring her back to the skiff before the moon rises full.”

“Tonight? Do you think you can save Amenia and get to the skiff tonight?” Breathless, Anippe dared to hope.

“That is my plan.” Mandai glanced over her head at Nassor. “If I'm not back by the moon's zenith, take both the king's sisters and leave without me. Ay will kill them if they're still at Gurob in the morning.”

Anippe lay in her bed, listening to the familiar sounds of the Fayum. The sheer netting around her bed kept mosquitoes from feasting on her, while lions roared and owls screeched. The whole earth was restless when evil prowled—and Ay was evil. More than she had imagined.

Would she ever see Tut or Senpa or her ummi again? She'd said her good-bye to her brother, but Ummi … And what would happen to Senpa? Tears streamed from the corners of Anippe's eyes as she lay deathly still on the turquoise neck rest.

“Anippe, are you awake?” Ankhe's whisper sounded gravelly.

Anippe swallowed her tears and forced calm. “No. Sound asleep.”

“Do you think we should leave without Mandai? I can see the moon, and it's almost—”

“We'll leave when Mandai returns with Ummi Amenia.”

Silence. Ankhe was dealing with her own disappointment. Anippe hadn't spoken to Tut about Ankhe's marriage. There would be no wedding now.

“After you left the banquet, Vizier Ay passed judgment on Amenia.
Treason
, Anippe. Do you really think one Nubian warrior can rescue her?”

Anippe's tears flowed freely in the darkness. She need not answer a question void of hope.

“And you should have seen the way the vizier fawned over Senpa. He poured her wine, fed her grapes. I think he would have wiped her nose if she had sneezed.”

“Ankhe, enough.”

“I was just—”

“You were just prattling on about a man who's trying to kill our brother, Amenia, and us—and who might marry Senpa to secure the throne.”

Their chamber door burst open. Nassor grabbed both women, wrenching them to their feet. “Out the courtyard gate.”

Anippe ran, glancing over her shoulder. She saw Mandai behind them, but he was alone. “Where's Ummi?”

Nassor still ran, forcing both women to keep up.

“Where's Ummi Amenia?” Anippe cried, bare feet kicking up sand and small rocks as they neared the quay.

“Get in the boat.” Nassor shoved both sisters into the waiting skiff, and Mandai hurried aboard, clutching his bloody abdomen. Three Medjays crested the hill above the quay, swords drawn.

“You can't row, Mandai.” Anippe grabbed one short oar and shoved it into the sandy shallows, helping Nassor push them off shore. The Ramessid knelt with the second oar to steer them.

No one looked back as Nassor and Anippe paddled like mad. When they were safely on their way in the canal, Anippe glanced over her shoulder and saw their pursuers kick the sand in frustration. Not even Medjays braved the Nile without a boat at night.

Mandai lay against the side of their skiff, checking the long gash in his side. “No trumpets sounding. This is good.” He reached over and tore Ankhe's linen robe.

“Stop. What are you doing?”

Mandai drew his dagger, and Ankhe grew quiet. “I need a portion of your robe for a bandage. Keep still or my blade may slip.”

Anippe kept checking behind them. Mandai was right—no trumpets meant no pursuing soldiers on the Nile's moonlit waters. She watched him tend his wound and imagined the worst, but she needed to hear it. “Mandai, what happened?”

He wrapped his belly in silence, wincing only when he drew the strip of Ankhe's robe into a tight knot. Crimson seeped through the fine linen, but his bleeding slowed considerably. Moonlight revealed the Medjay's sadness. “By the time I discovered where they'd hidden Amira Amenia …” He shook his head and grew silent again.

“Please, Mandai. I need to know.”

Head bowed, he whispered, “She was begging Ay's guards to kill her.”

Anippe covered her mouth in horror.

Mandai reached for her loose oar before it toppled into oblivion. “I knew your ummi couldn't survive this journey, so I ran away—but one of my own men turned his sword on me.”

“Thank you for trying, my friend.” Anippe buried her face in her hands, releasing the waves of grief that had built since she'd heard of Tut's injury.

By the gods! Ay will pay for what he's done.

The steady rhythm of splashing oars lulled her into a dazed despair. Faded memories resurfaced—spinning flax with Amenia and Senpa, Tut playing with wooden soldiers. Would she really see them in the afterlife? Were the legends of the gods truth or lies?

“Amira, you should rest.” Nassor switched the oar to his left side, while Mandai switched to his right. The Medjay's bandage was completely saturated with blood.

“I can't sleep. Give me your oar, Mandai.” Anippe didn't wait for his protest. She took the oar, and Ankhe eased the warrior back against her.

Their journey would be slower, but at least they'd escaped to get word to Abbi Horem. They would burrow into the safety of the Delta and Ramessid military strongholds. Abbi would know what to do—and maybe Sebak would finally come home to her.

Her arms and back burned with every stroke of the oar, but the memory of her husband's embrace made her strong.

Mered laughed so hard his sides ached as he watched his children and Mehy play with Miriam in their single room at dawn. When Anippe had asked Mered if he and Puah would tend the young prince while she and Ankhe traveled to Gurob, he'd felt honored. Watching Miriam bask in her family's presence was an added blessing.

The only tarnish on this joyous morning were Mandai's cryptic words, which still echoed in Mered's memory.
Pharaoh's accident was no accident.
What had the amira discovered when she arrived at Gurob?

Amram shoved aside their adjoining curtain. “Sounds like we're missing the fun.” Young Aaron darted around his father to join the three little ones in a crawling chase around the low-lying table. Miriam played shepherdess, herding them in the same direction.

Mered waved his old friend over to his safe corner. “Amram, come over here before you're trampled by the stampede.”

Amram tucked his feet under him and sat in amiable silence. Two proud fathers, enjoying lively households before the day's work began. Puah and Jochebed continued their work near the cook fire, partly cooking, partly protecting little fingers and toes from the flames.

“Stay on those knees,” Puah scolded when Jered pushed to his feet to run. “You may chase all you like—as long as you chase on your knees.”

Brilliant. Mothers were creative geniuses when keeping children safe at play.

“Gruel is ready.” Jochebed placed seven clay bowls on the table, each filled with steaming porridge. Their families had begun eating together while Jochebed served in the villa and Puah cooked for Amram and Aaron. They'd grown used to the company, and Jochebed gladly helped when she returned. Family of the heart was as thick as blood.

The sound of shuffling feet outside warned Mered of an intruder before the doorway curtain stirred.

“Mered, we need Puah at the quay.”

“Ankhe?” Mered was on his feet in an instant, the children cowering at their mothers' skirts. “Why? What happ—”

“Mandai is hurt. They're waiting at the quay.” She looked for Miriam and motioned toward Mehy. “Take him to Anippe's chamber. Now.”

Mered cast a quick glance at Puah, who was already gathering healing herbs in a basket. He couldn't wait any longer. “I'll run ahead and see if I can help.”

“I'm going too,” Ankhe said. “Puah knows the way to the quay.”

Mered followed Ankhe out the door and up the hill toward the villa. He'd never seen the girl genuinely rattled, but fear made her run like a desert hare. He could barely keep up.

“Ankhe, what happened?”

“Vizier Ay tried to kill Tut. He accused Amenia of treason.” She gulped for breath at the top of the hill and pointed toward the quay and their small skiff. “Mandai was injured trying to save her. We barely escaped. We drifted with the current at night, and Anippe and I helped Nassor paddle during the day.” Mered ran down the hill, where Anippe and Nassor hovered over Mandai, who leaned against the side of the boat with a blood-stained bandage wrapped around his abdomen.

Nassor bent to one knee and greeted Mered with a burning stare, but the Medjay smiled at his approach. “Linen keeper, your prayers worked. Your one god proved beyond doubt who sawed the axle.”

Mered bent over, gulping air, his side aching from the run. “Perhaps you should have … been more specific … about my prayer. I didn't know you planned to fight the saw.”

“Mered, thank you for coming.” Anippe was pale and trembling. Without her face paints, she looked like a little girl. “Help Nassor carry Mandai to the villa.”

“Of course, Amira. Which chamber?”

“Put him in Miriam's chamber. She and Mehy can sleep in my sitting area.” Tears spilled over her bottom lashes. She turned to Nassor. “Who can we trust to send word to Abbi Horem?”

Nassor tilted his head, gentle compassion from a rough-spun cloth. “Don't worry, Amira. You're safe now. Every Ramessid in the Delta is loyal to General Horemheb. We protect our own—and you are Master Sebak's own.”

Her composure crumbled with Nassor's tender promise. Ankhe promptly cradled her sister's shoulders and turned toward the villa. “The men can wait for Puah at the quay. You need to rest.”

Confused—and more terrified because of Ankhe's kindness—Mered looked to Nassor for an explanation. “What happened at Gurob?”

“A slave has no need to know.”

Mandai raised a brow, glancing from the Ramessid to the Hebrew and back. “I see you two have met.” He reached for Nassor's shoulder and waited for the captain to meet his gaze. “This linen keeper can be annoying, it's true, but he is a good man and the amira trusts him. You would be wise to trust him too.”

Not the most glowing recommendation Mered could've hoped for, but the Medjay's words seemed to soften Nassor's hard stare. With a deep sigh, he sat down and shoved off his wig, wiping perspiration from his bald head and face. He rested his arms on his knees and waited for Mered to sit.

For Nassor, it was as cordial as he could be to a Hebrew slave. Mered felt privileged and sat.

“We arrived at Gurob at sunset on the third day,” Nassor began, “and the amira spoke with King Tut briefly—enough to confirm Ay's guilt in the so-called hunting accident. But he had no proof. At a banquet that night, Vizier Ay accused General Horemheb's wife of treason.” Nassor turned to Mandai, indicating the rest of their story was his to tell.

“Amira Amenia is most certainly dead by now—probably King Tut as
well. I must leave tonight to warn General Horemheb of Ay's treachery.” Mandai tried to stand, and both Mered and Nassor tried to help him. The Medjay stumbled, and Mered caught his chest, barely missing the gash on his belly. The warrior cried out.

Mered looked over his shoulder, wondering what was keeping Puah. She should have been here by now.

“You're not going anywhere tonight, Medjay.” Nassor's commanding voice allowed no argument. “Help me lift him, Hebrew. Your wife can find her patient at the villa.”

The two men braced the injured warrior and began walking uphill.

Nassor looked toward the plateau separating Avaris from Qantir. “We must alert the Ramessids on both estates and then spread the word to all Delta fortresses. Ay will attack Avaris first, then other estates, and leave the fortresses until last.”

“Attack Avaris?” Mered's heart leapt to his throat. “We're an estate full of unarmed slaves and a few guards. Why would he attack us?”