“But you did come,” Pepi counters. “And I would be careful of what-ifs, Sesha. They can drive a person mad. Now,” he says, signalling the end of our question period, “let us go over the finer details of how we can best deliver our message to the pharaoh and find that scroll.”
46
WE DRESS AS SERVANTS. Pepi managed to procure a razor from the caravan and shaves his face and head, drastically altering his appearance.
I find two empty baskets, which we carry on our shoulders, our heads down. My heart is pounding. I told Pepi about a semi-private route to Ahmes’s chambers that usually does not see much foot traffic. My obsidian blade, which Pepi showed me briefly how to wield in combat during our crossing, is concealed. I hope there will be no reason to use it. Though I am confident when using it in a medical procedure, brandishing it about in an altercation carries a greater risk of me losing a finger than anything else.
We conclude that the original scroll will be the easier and the slightly less dangerous of the two copies to find; there is no way of knowing if the copy Queen Anat took from me even still exists. The fragile ancient papyrus will likely be stored safely in Pharaoh’s or Wujat’s chambers, though I’d put my silver on the vizier’s. Both rooms will need to be checked.
Making our way onto the palace grounds, we act as if we belong here. People pay us no attention as everyone goes about their morning. They are too busy with their duties that keep the palace running smoothly, all buzzing along like Pentu’s bees, working for the queen.
“This way,” I whisper to Pepi. He follows close behind. I keep my eyes sharp for anyone that might recognize me: Bebi, Kewat, any of the handmaidens I knew, Ky. We enter the palace’s cool interior without any challenges and navigate the halls until we reach the physician’s chambers. Motioning for Pepi to stop behind me, I poke my head inside. Shai is on our side this day. Ahmes is there, preparing a concoction, and he is alone. I quickly step into the room, Pepi behind me.
“Ahmes,” I say in a soft voice.
Startled, he looks up, grip tightening on the ceramic jar he is holding.
“Sesha? Is that you?” He blinks disbelievingly. Doubt crosses his face as he sees Pepi behind me. But he looks relieved, and I take this as a good sign. “What are you doing here?” He looks past us, as if there are soldiers at our back. “If the queen finds out —”
“My friend and I come to warn Pharaoh,” I say urgently, leaving out that Pepi is the escaped Hyksos spy, as well as our plan to take the scroll. The less Ahmes knows, the safer he will be. “The Hyksos prepare for battle. Ahmes, their weapons …”
I swallow, thinking of the lethal bow and their bronze armaments, the battle-axes, the horses. As a physician, Ahmes understands better than most the injuries, death, and destruction that come with war. And the more advanced the technology, the higher the number of deaths. Though being killed in combat is considered an honour, healers are preservers of life. Watching people die up close and in large numbers is not something a soul can bear lightly.
“Can you help us?” I ask.
“What will you have me do?” he says, locking eyes with me, his brown ones as warm as I remember.
My request is ready. “Wujat advises Pharaoh on these issues, and the king listens to him above all others. Is there any way you can bring the vizier to us so we may speak with him?” I can appeal to Wujat alone, while Pepi searches his chambers.
Ahmes blinks but does not balk at my suggestion. He thinks for a second. “Wujat is meeting with the members of council today. He will be there.”
I glance at Pepi to gauge his reaction. This might work as well.
“It is a big risk, Sesha.” Pepi has been letting me speak for the both of us, but I can tell he sees what I am thinking. “If the queen sees you —”
“She won’t,” I say, swallowing my fear. “It is what we came to do.”
“The council meets after the ceremony —” Ahmes stops and looks at me.
“What ceremony?” I say, his glance sparking my instincts, which are becoming remarkedly honed.
Ahmes hesitates, then continues. “The queen and Pharaoh are formally adopting Ky. They will announce his betrothal at sundown.”
It feels like I have been hit in the face with a brick. “Betrothal to whom?” I say in disbelief.
His voice is quiet. “Little Tabira. They are to be married when she is of age.”
I am shocked. Anxious that the queen might exact her revenge on Ky in some physical way, it never occurred to me she would make him a son. My mind races to connect the dots, like a pattern in the sky.
Queen Anatmoset has only one male heir, Tutan. One of her daughters is dead in childbed, another has been given to the Hyksos prince, and her youngest, Tabira, suffers from The Fever, which comes and goes intermittently, her health fragile. Should anything happen to Pharaoh, or Tutan, or even the little princess, it would not hurt to have a groomed replacement on hand. This reduces the risk that a lesser wife of the pharaoh and one of their sons would make a move for the coveted role of ruler of the land, as well as any of the other madness that comes with no clear successor to the throne. Pepi is right: kingdoms and their power struggles are a deadly business.
“She sets up her pawns as in a game of Senet,” I murmur.
“At least Ky is safe,” Ahmes offers. “The queen dotes on him, and even checked on him herself as he recovered from his surgery.”
I am sure she had her own motives for that. “He is not safe if he is in line to be Pharaoh.” I shake my head. “There will be eyes on his back that were not there before.”
“To the matter at hand,” Pepi interrupts. “Where is the council meeting?”
“In the room off the great hall, where the engagement ceremony will be held,” Ahmes says. “You may stay hidden in my chambers until then. You do not want the queen to see you.”
No, I do not. “Do others know of our … desertion?” I say, wondering how careful we will need to be.
Ahmes shakes his head. “The affair was kept quiet.”
“It would not do well for the queen to be seen as bested by a young girl,” Pepi says.
He is right. The queen cares very much about appearances and being regarded as all powerful. She would not want it revealed that she was thwarted by three young scribes.
Ahmes picks up the medicine he was preparing before we interrupted. “I must bring this to a patient. I will come back here to get you before the ceremony.” He turns to leave the room.
“Ahmes, one last thing,” I call after him. “Where might I find my brother?”
“He will be with Tutan, of course. The pair are inseparable. They are likely being bathed and readied in honour of the ceremony this evening, but I am not sure of their exact whereabouts.”
“How does his health fare?” I am desperate to know.
“He has had no attacks since the operation,” Ahmes assures me.
Relief sweeps through my body. “Thank you for caring for him.”
He nods. “I will return as soon as I can.” He leaves, looking dazed at our appearance and brief interrogation. I, too, am trying to process information as calmly as I can. No easy feat, with my brother involved and our lives at risk.
My gaze falls to the desk where I once transcribed a precious document on the eve of a critical surgery. I know the scroll is the reason why we are here, but I feel the tug of my brother on my heart. Pulled in two different directions, I turn to Pepi, opening my mouth.
“Why don’t you go find your brother and wish him well on his engagement?” Pepi says before I speak.
“Really?” I say, my heart quickening. “You do not mind?”
Pepi waves me off. “You got us into the palace and arranged for Ahmes to bring us to the council meeting. I will search Pharaoh’s and Wujat’s chambers while you go and speak to Ky. Just promise me you will do your best to remain unseen.”
“What about you?”
“I am like the wind. Besides, even if I am seen, no one
will recognize me.” He grins, rubbing one hand over his shaven scalp. “I am just another scribe, here to record the event for posterity.”
“Thank you.” I slip out the door before he changes his mind about this side mission.
“Sesha.”
“Yes?” I say, turning to the spy. Pepi’s face is sober.
“Be careful.”
47
I DART THROUGH THE HALLS OF THE PALACE, contemplating the whereabouts of both Ky and the scroll. If the document is not in Pharaoh’s or Wujat’s chambers, there is a chance it may be with one of them. I wonder about the copy Queen Anat took from me, the one my father and I transcribed. Would she really destroy it? Or only bury it away somewhere in another room of hidden treasures, lost for eternity?
I stop in my tracks. Is it possible that Queen Anat heard of this mysterious prophecy somehow? Can this be why she wanted the scroll so badly?
Forcing myself to resume moving, I make my way to the handmaidens’ quarters, slipping around corners unseen, keeping my head down. I’ve learned not to take unnecessary risks; the necessary ones are more than enough.
I draw nearer to the handmaidens’ wing. At this time of day, it will be mostly empty, but there may be one or two girls around whom I can ask about Ky’s whereabouts. With luck, my friend Bebi might even be there herself. Poking my head in, I scan the room’s occupants and offer up a brief prayer of thanks. Bebi is not there, but someone else I know is: Kewat.
She lies, slumbering, one hand on the small swell of her stomach. Creating new life takes a lot of energy. I walk over.
“Kewat,” I say softly. Her eyes flutter open, bleary. Upon seeing me, she rubs them and sits up quickly.
“Sesha? What are you doing here? Where have you been all this time? Bebi said you left in secrecy!”
“Bebi.” I seize on her cousin’s name. “I need to find her. Do you know where she is?”
“She is attending little Tabira.”
I look at her in surprise. “Her position has changed?”
“Yes, the little princess now has her own handmaidens in addition to her nurse. She is helping her get ready for the engagement announcement later today.” This means Bebi, too, may be in the wing that houses the royal baths. “Is that why you are here?”
“Yes, I am happy to be here for my brother on this … momentous occasion.” An occasion that involves Queen Anat drawing him further into her sticky web. “How is your pregnancy?” I ask, wanting to hear how she’s been doing, as well as to distract her from asking any more questions.
“All is well.” She gives her stomach a contented pat. “Your father is letting you choose, then?” Kewat’s father originally had his own ideas for his daughter, hoping to make a good match for her with a lesser noble. But Kewat loves another and has plans of her own.
“Yes, I will move into his house nearer my time, after completing my duties at the palace.”
I am happy things have worked out the way she wanted them to. At least they have for someone.
“May Bes bless you and your new family.”
As I go to leave the quarters, she calls after me, a hint of uncertainty in her voice. “Will you be here for the baby’s birth?”
I walk back to her, place a hand on her abdomen, and murmur a brief incantation for an easy delivery and a healthy child. “Likely not, but you and the baby will fare well,” I say firmly, imploring her with my eyes to believe me. Our thoughts are powerful things. Kewat is with the person she loves on will alone, showing how powerful intentions can be. Belief is the first step in accomplishing what you want to do. It is important that I also remember this.
I will find Ky. I will find the scroll. I will find Ky. I will find the scroll. I will find Ky. I will find the scroll. I will find Ky. I repeat the mantra over and over in my head so that it becomes a prayer to the universe, to any gods who might still be listening and not yet growing weary of accommodating my endless requests. I turn another corner in the palace, drawing nearer to the baths. Seeing some folded linens, I pick them up and carry them with me, a ready excuse for being there.
I cannot find anyone.
The baths are quiet. The children have come and gone. They are likely getting dressed and having their hair plaited, oiled, and accessorized for the announcement. I should go back and regroup with Pepi.
Something cold and wet touches my hand and I bite back a screech.
“Anubis!” I whisper, dropping the linens and crouching down to hug the dog, rubbing my face in his soft fur. “Can you take me to Ky?”
He whines and licks my hand, then takes off at a trot. I follow him down a corridor leading to the children’s chambers. Up ahead is the turn to Merat’s old room, and a thought strikes me. Merat’s grand chambers are reserved for the eldest princess in the palace, who is now little Tabira. I wonder if she might have moved there with her nurse.
“Good boy,” I say to Ky’s dog.
I am almost at the door when I hear someone inside. Stepping back into a small alcove, I press my body up against the wall. Anubis trots ahead into the room.
“You are right. The other necklace will suit much better,” a bright voice chirps, “shall I retrieve it?”
Gods be praised. Bebi.
Eagerly, I step forward to intercept my friend as she leaves the chamber, but another voice calls behind her. “Yes.” Queen Anat’s commanding tone rings out, freezing me. “It is in my quarters. Be quick about it. The ceremony starts soon.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” Bebi says as she exits the room.
Hathor, help me. No matter if Ky is in there or not, entering that room now would not end well. I’d prefer that my brother not see me arrested and killed on this day. My engagement gift to him.
Waiting till my friend passes by, I reach out and touch her arm lightly. “Bebi,” I whisper.
She gives a squeak of surprise. “Sesha?” she exclaims, taking in my altered appearance. “Is it really you?” She throws her arms around me. “What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you.” I smile and guide her down the hallway, walking us speedily away from Tabira’s chambers, away from immediate danger. “I need your help, my friend.”
“How are you?” she asks breathlessly. “Where have you been?”
“I will explain on the way. Did I hear you are to get a necklace from Queen Anat’s chambers?” If I cannot see my brother, then at least I can search the queen’s room for the scroll. I remind myself to leave a big offering for the gods after this fortunate happenstance.
“Yes, for the ceremony tonight. She wants Tabira to look perfect when they announce her engagement …” She hesitates, looking at me.
“To my brother,” I finish. “I know. I will accompany you.”
“It is so wonderful to see you!” She chatters on about Tabira and Ky’s betrothal as we walk down the hall. I keep my head low, occasionally glancing from side to side. Though Queen Anat would not want him lurking around, Crooked Nose, her personal guard — and my parents’ killer — cannot be far off.
48
WE REACH QUEEN ANAT’S QUARTERS without incident, Bebi pecking at me with question after question. “The last time I saw you, you were sneaking away under most mysterious circumstances. Where did you go?”
“Paser, Reb, and I went north … for some additional training.” As with Ahmes, telling Bebi as little as possible will protect her.
We approach the queen’s chambers. Two soldiers stand guard, but thankfully I do not know them, nor they me. They see two young girls, servants, and nod at Bebi in greeting. She inclines her head graciously at them.
“The Great Royal Wife has bid me to retrieve a necklace for Princess Tabira,” she says sweetly, in her singsong voice. They move aside and let us enter.
The queen’s private chambers are luxurious and large, treasures sparkling from every corner of the room: fine linens and downs, pillows, an elaborately carved headrest. I remember Pepi’s lesson, cataloguing and storing everything in my mind,
as I’ve been doing all day.
Bebi walks to a large wooden chest inscribed with ancient scripts. It looks hundreds of years old. She lifts the lid and purses her lips at the glittering assortment of jewels winking up at us. “She wanted the gold one with the falcon heads …”
“There.” I point at the breathtaking collar, layers of carnelian, lapis lazuli, and turquoise.
“You have a good eye, Sesha.” Bebi picks up the necklace as I begin wandering the room, seeing where one might hide a scroll.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“Looking for a papyrus.” I open and browse through a wardrobe filled with elaborate dresses, pushing some aside. The citrusy, floral fragrance of neroli oil wafts out, and I break into a sweat at the queen’s scent.
Confusion crosses Bebi’s face. “Why?”
“It is an important medical document.” Nothing here. I close the wardrobe’s doors and continue scanning the room, lifting items, looking behind and under furniture.
“I do not understand. Would it not be at the temple?”
“I believe Queen Anat took it, by mistake.” Methodically, I lift her bedding, look under her headrest. Nothing.
“Sesha.” Bebi’s tone is intent. “Queen Anat does nothing by mistake. Will you tell me what is going on?”
“The document is mine,” I say, turning to look at Bebi defiantly. “I want it back.”
“You are stealing from the queen?” Her voice trills in shock, and I bring a hand to my lips to shush her.
“I am not stealing. I told you, it is mine.”
All traces of her usual good cheer are wiped from Bebi’s expressive face. “You used me to get into the queen’s chambers?”
That was not the original plan, but I do not deny it. Bebi has been a good friend, and I owe her that much. “It is for a just cause.”
Her eyes widen. “One person’s cause can be another person’s ruin,” she whispers, putting her free hand on my arm.
“Yes, Bebi,” I say, fighting the urge to blow through the queen’s chambers like a desert wind, longing to tear drawers from their chests, rip linens from their beds, flip chests upside down. Anger at all she has taken from me bubbles beneath the surface of my skin, leaving me flushed and shaking. I take a calming breath, then another. “You are right. I am sorry, my friend. I had a long journey and am not thinking clearly.” Pepi’s advice to do so comes back. “Let us leave and you can be on your way with the necklace.”
The Desert Prince Page 20