The Song of the Bee-Eater (The Desert Queen Book 4)

by M. L. Bullock

  “And you will speak for me, Lady Ipy? You will not let me die in the flames?” Her shimmering black eyes searched mine, and I gave her a sympathetic, solemn look.

  “You can trust me. I will not abandon you. Go now and do your mistress’ bidding. Keep your face dry, and let no one know what you have told me. I will speak to my husband, I mean, Pharaoh.”

  No, I would never trust her, nor would I help her. In fact, as soon as she left me I planned to break Akhenaten’s ban on solitude. He would want to know this, and I should be the one to tell him! With an awkward glance over her shoulder Menmet disappeared into the shadowy corridor and I turned to my mirror.

  What does one wear when overthrowing a queen?

  Chapter Eleven

  The Broken Man—Pah

  Walking at a steady pace, I moved through the Green Temple. I kept my eyes on the distant statue of Isis, the center of all this attention. Today was a day of mourning in the city. Queen Tiye’s body had been removed this morning and taken to the priests for her preparations for her journey. Or so the Egyptians believed. Despite the overwhelming sadness that hovered over everything, rumors of my betrayal flitted about all of Akhenaten’s city. As sheltered as they were, the priestesses were not immune to the gossip. Ignoring their stares, pretending that all was well, I carried an armful of sweet flowers to the image of Isis in honor of the late queen. These were rare yellow blooms—expensive and hard to find in the city. It was well known that I grew them with my own hands on my balcony from seeds. What most didn’t know was that those seeds had been a present from Adijah a few years ago. When I pushed the seeds down into the soil I had visions of faraway Grecia, but I knew full well I would never see that fair land.

  I liked Adijah, and that was not something I could say about most people. Perhaps that was why I excelled in my role as priestess. I had to do very little speaking, and when I did those who listened hung on my every word. Yes, I liked Adijah. He looked very much like a foreigner compared to those around us, but I supposed I did too. He had trustworthy eyes, and I did trust him. What other choice did we have now? Allies were few and far between in Akhenaten’s court.

  The whispers of the acolytes rose as I approached the towering image of Isis.

  “This is strange indeed for the high priestess to arrive unannounced,” I heard them say. “Something must be amiss! Can the rumors be true?”

  With a wave of my hand I dismissed them. Arranging the flowers at Isis’ feet, I knelt as the last of the attending priestesses left the room. The High One’s worship was sacred and not to be witnessed by anyone. Only one priestess lingered—Maza was her name. Her dark skin looked otherworldly and bright compared to the soft yellow gown she wore. Yes, Maza would be the one who would rule this place after me. I stared at her unflinchingly as she slowly closed the door behind her. Like me, she had likely seen our entwined fates in the fire and the water, but she was not yet the ruler of this place. Not yet. But soon.

  I did not waste time wallowing at the statue’s feet. The old queen was dead, and it was the current queen and my sister who needed my help. What prayer could I offer for Tiye, the tiny Red Lands woman who ruled Egypt with an iron fist until she lost her mind—and her power over her son? I quickly set about my task, searching through the many baskets that lay at the goddess’ feet. Inside one of them I would find what I was looking for. Surely he had not let me down. Not this time. After plundering through a dozen offerings of fruits, meats and breads, I found my prize. Yes, here it was!

  It was a small piece of papyrus hidden under an orange. If I’d been paying closer attention I would have recognized the Grecian flowers, the same kind as the ones I’d offered, tucked in the corner. No matter now. I found it! Clutching it in my hand I fell before the statue and began to sing a song of mourning as I’d been taught.

  Eyes watched me now. The awareness made my skin crawl, and I could feel those eyes, wondering, watching, observing my every move. I slid the small papyrus fragment into the bosom of my gown as I waved my arms about and bowed before the statue again and again. Yes, I heard the shuffling of sandals not far behind me. It could only be Maza, for no one else dared to enter this holy place unsummoned. I pretended that I did not notice her presence; I continued until my knees ached and my arms grew weary. Finally, I took some of the flowers and tossed them into the sacred fire. They burned quickly, leaving nothing but soot behind. Such a shame to burn such beauty. It had been my intention to gaze into the fire before I returned to my apartments to prepare, but I could not, not while my watcher hung nearby. Instead I burned another handful of the flowers and shut my eyes against whatever I might see.

  That was a mistake, for Maza was close enough to see for herself what was in the fire. I heard her gasp, and I spun about to meet her face to face. But it was not Maza who looked into the fire. It was my servant and student Shepshet.

  “Shepshet! What are you doing here? You know that you cannot be here.”

  Her eyes were wide and her mouth open in surprise still. She could not shake her gaze from the fire and instead sank to her knees and began to weep. “Oh, lady! What have I seen? What have I seen?”

  I fell down beside her and cupped her face with my hands, forcing her to break her fiery vision. “You have seen nothing, Shepshet! Nothing!”

  She shook her head slowly, miserably, as tears slid down her cheeks. What had she seen? “I did see. I saw you die, Nephthys.”

  “No, Shepshet. Listen to me. Look at me. Look into my eyes. Do not stare into the fire again.” Finally she did as I asked, her body limp, her emotions clearly raw and ragged. At least one person would mourn my leaving this world. Better that than the thousands of Egyptians who only pretended to grieve for the loss of Queen Tiye. For the past twenty-four hours they had paraded in and out of our courtyards, making sure they were seen by anyone who cared to look. Each hoped that word would travel back to Pharaoh Amenhotep, as if he would be impressed by their devotion. These Egyptians thought of nothing but politics. They did not impress me with their displays of mourning—ashes on their bald heads, arms free of gold. “You have seen nothing but what must be. You cannot prevent this. And you must not.”

  “But…”

  “No, Shepshet. I do not wish for you to share my fate. Do not tell anyone what you have seen. You must obey me in this. I cannot meet whatever lies before me knowing you are in danger. It would be too much to bear. And remember, we are all in her hands.” I glanced up at the statue, and Shepshet’s fearful eyes followed mine. Then she clung to me and sobbed. I allowed myself to feel self-pity for a few seconds but not for too long. I could not afford to lose faith now. I had to continue on if I wanted to make peace with Paimu and see Alexio once again. Oh, to step on the soft grass of Timia again, to see the ones I had loved all those years ago.

  And when did you leave this world, my love? How is it that I didn’t sense your passing?

  “You must leave now, Shepshet. I must continue with my ministrations, but I will return to my apartments soon.” We rose together, and I hugged her one last time. “Now, do not let anyone see your tears. Pull your veil down. And Shepshet…”

  “Yes?”

  “See that no one else comes in. I want to be alone for a while.”

  “Yes, lady.” She did as I asked, pulling the veil over her face and quietly exiting the room. I watched the door close and quickly walked behind the statue. Now I was truly alone. I dug the papyrus out of my dress. Looking around one last time, I unrolled it with shaking fingers and stared at the painted emblems.

  There were three. But that was all that was needed. I touched the script with my fingers as if I could make the emblems speak to me. The first was simple enough, the sign of the Meshwesh. The careful squiggles represented the falcon, the symbol of our people, only it was upside down. Next to it was an unusual image, the horns of a bull. I stared at the last picture—the broken man, his arms and legs detached from his body.

  My uncle’s message was clear. The falcon’s day
had ended. Horemheb left Egypt with Kames by his side, as I had instructed. Somehow, Ayn’s son would be crucial for the survival of the Meshwesh. He was the bull, as his name suggested.

  I stared at the broken man. It could only mean that Pharaoh’s judgment was against me. Horemheb would know this. Until recent years he had been one of Amenhotep’s favorites, and even now his tenuous connections kept him abreast of the ebb and flow of Pharaoh’s mood. Apparently it now flowed against me. He had already purposed in his heart to tear me asunder. He was unable to deliver his rage upon Nefret, so it would fall upon me.

  I would be the broken man.

  Chapter Twelve

  Hidden Places—Nefertiti

  Sleep struggled with me, but eventually I grasped it and quiet darkness took me. But it didn’t stay dark for long. A glow surrounded me, and my skin tingled with warmth. I was floating, and in that strange levitation there was peace and stillness. Yes, this was where I wanted to be. Let me stay here a little while. Away from my troubles and despair!

  Now I was falling. Terror seized me as I stretched out my hands. I struggled to find something I could use to break my fall, but the fall continued, seemingly endless. I felt as if time stood still as I whipped around, head over feet again and again. The motion threatened to make me sick as I spun faster with each passing moment. I screamed for what felt like a lifetime, but no one heard me, nothing happened and eventually my voice failed me. Yet I continued to fall. I forced my eyes shut and hugged myself as I waited for the impending crash. Surely I would die.

  Then I wasn’t falling—I was standing in the Red Lands, the sand warm beneath my feet. I gasped in surprise because I was not alone. The Shining Man stood beside me; as always his face was obscured by the light that surrounded him—no, he was the source of the light. He watched me but said nothing at first, and I felt uneasy under his gaze.

  What could I say? What could I do but wait to hear what he would say? Would he impart to me another dream? Another vision for the future? And why should he trust me with a new vision, seeing that my husband and I had failed so miserably with the dream he’d given me? No, I was not worthy to be here. Surely this was a mistake.

  “What makes one man or woman worthier than another?”

  I couldn’t hide my surprise. He could read my mind!

  “I do not know,” I began hesitantly. “But I am sure you do, sir.”

  Although I could not see his face, I could feel him smile. It gave me confidence to continue standing in his presence, for without it I am sure I would have perished.

  “Worthiness is a human measurement. Worthiness is man’s attempt at reasoning with the workings of the divine.” His words both comforted and disturbed me. Why then do men try to please the gods? I thought, forgetting that he could read my thoughts. I quickly repented of the question; before I could sort out my many emotions, he touched my shoulder with a firm grip, and in that moment everything became clear to me. Who he was, who I was, where we were and where I would go next. I knew that far from failing him, failing the vision, Amenhotep and I had accomplished his desires. And the knowledge of that brought me much peace. Peace of a kind I had not known in my waking life. No matter what happened, no matter what I lost or who I lost. All would be well. In fact, as I woke, I heard him speak those words to my heart.

  All will be well…

  As I opened my eyes and exited the dream world, the knowledge I had so richly enjoyed fluttered away from me. It flew away on invisible wings, vanishing on the rays of the approaching dawn. It seemed like I had been there only a moment, but apparently I’d slept soundly through the night. Morning was arriving. As I had when I fell, I grasped the air around me as if the knowledge were a tangible thing to be possessed. It was not. I could remember nothing except the Shining Man’s words.

  All will be well. And strangely it was enough. I rose from my bed quickly to dress myself. I had taken to sleeping alone now. I did not need to worry that Amenhotep would discover the change in my hairstyle; he had not come to my bed in nearly a season. But if I was to prevent my servants from knowing I had shaved my head, I must be alone. I had to admit I missed Menmet’s nighttime chatter. She had always been so entertaining. I pulled on my morning wig and a loose robe and opened the outer door to my sleeping chamber. To my surprise there was no one about. This had never happened before, and it was a strange thing indeed.

  With my heart pounding, I examined this new development. What could possibly have occurred? Reality struck me. Queen Tiye was dead, along with the last of her influence and presumably also mine. Or maybe this was a sign that Menmet had deceived me. Soon the palace guards would set upon me and take me before my husband.

  “Lady? I did not hear you rise. Are you hungry? Won’t you take some food, my queen?”

  “Where is Menmet?” I asked the girl.

  She stammered, “I do not know. I woke to an empty room, lady.” She stood at attention and glanced around nervously. Even this inexperienced girl knew all was not right here. Well, I wasn’t one to cower because a few servants had left me for higher ground. All the more reason to leave as soon as possible. Do not let her betray me! Let me have my daughters and my son, and I will ask for nothing more!

  “What is your name?”

  “Yerye, Great Queen.”

  “Yerye, I am hungry. Please bring me a tray to the balcony. After my devotion to the Aten, I will take some food. Then you may help me dress.”

  “Oh, yes, lady!” She smiled with great delight, immediately forgetting the strange predicament we found ourselves in. I took some comfort in her obliviousness. She waited as I offered my worship to the Aten—I would need his favor if my plan was to succeed.

  I took a few bites of food and said as absently as I could, “Yerye, after I dress I want you to send the steward to fetch my daughters for me. They are at the White Palace.”

  “Oh no, lady. They are not. They are here.” She blinked as she set the blue pitcher down on the table beside me.

  I gripped her wrist as quickly as a cobra striking his prey. “Tell me where you saw them! Have they been harmed?”

  She winced in surprise and pain but did not pull away from me. Instead she fell on her knees and said, “They seemed healthy, lady queen. I did not speak with them, for I am just a servant.” I released her wrist and waited to hear more. “I saw them playing in the Great Hallway with Lady Ipy and her dogs. I can fetch them now if you like.” As she spoke, my anger rose. How dare Ipy reach for my daughters! Yes, I must go tonight! Adijah must help me as Pah promised he would.

  “Yes, that will be fine. Only don’t bring them here. I will go to my gardens. You can bring them to me there, Yerye.”

  “Very well, Great Queen.” I heard the doors to my chambers, but I did not turn my head. I kept my eyes on the horizon while I reclined on my balcony. It would not do to quiver like a coward before my husband’s guards, if indeed they were the ones who were barging in on me.

  “Great Queen, I had hoped to return before you woke. Forgive Menmet for not being here to help you dress. As I have always done.” Angrily I launched from my couch and swung my gown back as I stepped toward her. As petite as she was I towered over her, and as angry as I was I didn’t mind reminding her of my advantage. I wanted to strike her in the face for her betrayal, for I was sure she had betrayed me, but before my hand could fulfill my wishes my daughters rushed onto the balcony and encircled my waist with their arms.

  “Mother!” Meritaten kissed my cheek and hugged me close, closer than she had in a long time. I kissed her back and rubbed her chin as I did when I greeted her. When she was a babe, it was the only thing that kept her from crying. Pharaoh had wet nurses and servants aplenty for our children, but only I could care for my daughter, my own Meritaten. She would have no other until she got older and decided she no longer needed a mother. But perhaps I was being unkind. Like all the other women in her father’s court, including me, she had little to say about where she went and who she saw. Meritaten had
her father’s sculpted mouth but my green eyes. She had my height, and I believed she’d grown since last I saw her but I did not say so. She was a sensitive girl who was prone to be upset about the slightest perceived offense. In that she reminded me of Pah and at times Sitamen, who preferred solitude over court life.

  Tasherit came next. She was Tiye made over with her big dark eyes and flat feet. Would she ever grow? I could not tell, but I always told her that she had. I sat again so I could scoop her into my arms. Menmet beamed behind them, and I immediately felt sorry for my black thoughts toward her. “Thank you, Menmet. That will be all.” She winked at me and stepped back, making the sign of respect as she did. I noticed that my chambers were now full of servants, but most of them I did not know. Something was mightily wrong here, but at least I saw my daughters.

  “Mother, what a sad time. Our grandmother has died. Will you die also, my mother?” Tasherit’s young voice broke my heart.

  “Someday we all will leave this world for the next, but I promise you that the Otherworld is a wonderful place. Even now your grandmother, the Great Queen Tiye, is walking the shores with your grandfather Amenhotep.” I noticed that Meritaten sighed a great deal as Tasherit and I spoke. She was obviously unhappy and wanted me to know it. Yes, I had been away from my daughters for too long. How foolish I’d been! This was real love.

  “Why do you tell her these tales, mother? We both know that not all stories have a happy ending.” So that’s it, then. Meritaten has heard the news. Smenkhkare will marry Ipy’s daughter. If only she understood the much greater danger that faced us all. And how could I tell her that we would leave her father’s kingdom like bandits in the night? This I could not do.

  “Tasherit? Go to Mother’s ivory table, the one by my bed. Open the middle drawer. I think you will find a treasure there. It is something that flies.”