by Diana Ballew
“Who are you? Where’s Anen?”
The grip on her arm tightened, bruising her delicate skin.
“What do you want?”
Suddenly, her captor slammed her up against the stone wall of the garden and leaned into her. His foul, fish-smelling breath fanned her face, and she fought the urge to gag.
“What do you want?” she repeated, this time more fearfully.
“I have a message, so listen carefully.” He tightened his grip on her as if to punctuate his words.
“Anen sends his regrets that he could not stay. He said to tell you he must go away for a while. He has urgent business in the north. He said you must remain true to him and that you must make certain that Pharaoh does not contrive another bargain with the Nubians. Do whatever needs to be done. He said you would understand.”
Iset shuddered. Did Anen want her to commit another murder if necessary? If so, she wasn’t at all sure she could do it. The nightmares were too frightening. And the guilt. Not just for herself … if she were honest, she knew she would always regret that Khay will also need to die.
“Do you understand?” the man demanded in a low voice that seethed with threat.
Lifting her gaze to meet to the man’s, she shuddered again. The eyes staring back at her beheld a look of pure evil. He seemed so unlike Anen, she couldn’t comprehend that he would even know such a man.
“I understand,” she whispered as she lowered her face.
As abruptly as he’d grabbed her, the man retreated to leave her shaking with fear.
As he disappeared over the wall, his voice floated among the bushes, “You will be contacted. Do not fail us.”
She didn’t delay to puzzle over his words — she simply fled in much the same way her sister had done only minutes before.
Rekhmire lay in wait when she entered her rooms. She squealed and nearly jumped out of her skin when he stepped from behind a screen to confront her.
“Why do you defy Pharaoh’s orders, Princess?” His low, patient tone belied his obvious irritation.
Iset held her chin high and stood her ground. “I was merely feeling claustrophobic, vizier.” Though she knew she courted danger, she spat his title as if his very presence was beneath her. “I know my father would not wish me to feel so hemmed in as I have been. I sought the quiet sanctuary of the garden to clear my head.”
Rekhmire studied her intently for a long moment, but remained silent.
Iset withstood his scrutiny for as long as she could, then turned away as she felt her cheeks begin to warm. “Surely Pharaoh does not wish his royal daughter to live in discomfort.”
With a weary sigh, Rekhmire shook his head. “It has been only a few days since your ordeal. I do not believe you would already feel so uncomfortable.”
He stepped forward to crowd her, looming as he usually did when he meant to enforce his authority as Pharaoh’s second in command. “Make no mistake, Iset. Royal princess or no, you are subject to Pharaoh’s will, as is every person who resides under Egypt’s protection. Pharaoh’s orders are law, and I would advise you to remember that. I am aware you claim innocence in the matter of the Nubian’s death, but I ask myself what you must have done for the young man to be compelled to commit murder.”
“Me?” she glanced up from under lowered lids, trying to gauge how much the dreaded man suspected.
“Yes, Princess, you. You have made no secret that you did not wish to marry Nu-Tete.”
She didn’t deign to confirm or deny his accusation. The man’s life had been built around politics and diplomacy — she knew she could not best him in an argument, and any response she made would likely damn her. Instead she used the only weapon she had at her disposal: she began to sob.
With a muttered curse, Rekhmire spun about and marched from the chamber.
As she wiped away her tears, Iset allowed herself a tiny smile of victory. She didn’t know whether the vizier would report her to Pharaoh, but the vizier could prove nothing, and he surely knew even less. She would simply bide her time until Anen came for her.
“Khay … can you hear me?” Tetisheri whispered as she glanced about furtively, making certain she remained invisible to prying eyes. She hid in the shadows just below the tiny window of the garrison’s stockade. A quarter moon had lit her way. Just as the guard said, the area appeared deserted at this time of night, except for the rats and other vermin she could hear scurrying about. There would be soldiers manning the doors at the other side of the building, of course, but the window wasn’t big enough for even a small child to climb through, so there was little danger of escape.
“Khay?”
A hand appeared through the small aperture. “Teti? Is that you?”
“Yes, it’s me. Are you all right?” She stood on tiptoes but wasn’t tall enough to see more than his hand.
“You shouldn’t have come. Go back to the palace — at least you’ll be safe there.”
“I can’t. Not until I know what happened … how I can help you?”
The hand disappeared and for long seconds there was only silence.
And when he finally spoke, his voice held a finality about it that frightened her. “It doesn’t matter, Teti. The Nubian is dead.”
“What do you mean it doesn’t matter?” Too late, she realized how loudly she had spoken. Fearfully, she turned and flattened her back against the outer wall of the cell, taking a long moment to scan her surroundings in case the guards were coming. For several tense moments she waited, her heart hammering in her chest, but as far as she could tell, nobody lurked beyond the shadows, and she heard no sounds save the rustling of the rodents.
With a lowered voice, she begged, “Please answer me, Khay … why doesn’t it matter?”
Her brother’s reply sounded weary and defeated: “Because no one would believe me.” She heard him sigh, and his fisted hand again emerged through tiny square that served as a window.
“I believe you. I saw the look on Iset’s face. She forced you to do this, didn’t she?” It wasn’t really a question but a statement of fact; she would stake her own life on it.
When he didn’t respond, she tried again, “Didn’t she?”
“It makes no difference. I simply await the delegation from Nubia. Pharaoh will hold his trial, and I shall be condemned to death.
“Go back to Abydos, Teti. I will not be able to protect you now. The brewer, he is a kindly old man — he will care for you as he cares for Sara. I am sure that Iset will provide a means for you to return home if you ask it of her.”
She reached up towards the window as if she could somehow take his hand and reassure him. “I cannot leave you, Khay. I will come to the trial and speak for you. It is said that Pharaoh is fair in his dealings with his people. If you tell him what really happened …”
“No, Teti! Go home. It all happened so fast, I do not understand what happened myself — how can I plead my case? If you go now, your name will not be tainted alongside mine. Our adventure in Thebes is over. Go home.”
Unbidden, a stream of silent tears began to slowly roll down her cheeks. She loved her brother more than anyone, and she would not abandon him. “Don’t say that, Khay! I will go and plead with Besenmut; he’ll speak for you, I’m sure.”
At that, Khay gave a wry laugh. “Oh, Teti, you are so naïve. Besenmut was the man who placed the bar across the door that holds me here.”
“Then maybe I can appeal to Iset. Perhaps she can tell Pharaoh the truth. Or Kheper — he has feelings for me, I know it … maybe—”
“Don’t even think it! Go, Teti. It is late. There is nothing you can do.” His voice sounded so dead to her ears. Salty tears stung her eyes as she tried to flick them away.
“But I can help you, Khay.”
“Just go!” he repeated, as if angry with her. She covered her mouth to hold in the sob that wanted to erupt. What had happened to that playful boy who always teased her so? A few weeks in the city and he had disappeared, all but destroyed by a wilf
ul and spoiled princess. Khay was all she had in the world besides Sara, and Sara had been lost long ago. No — no matter what she had to do, she would save her brother — even if that meant she would somehow break him out of this prison.
“I will come again tomorrow night.”
“Do not, Teti. If you come here again I’ll call the guards. Go home to Abydos.”
The sob burst forth and this time she let it. He was still trying to protect her, and for once she would not allow him to do it. Despite what he said, if necessary she would go to Kheper and plead for her brother’s life.
Chapter 17
Dressed in servant’s garb, with her head covered lest she be recognized, Tetisheri waited while the guard announced to Kheper that his wine had arrived. She just hoped that he was alone — her grand plan would all be for naught, if not.
It had been three weeks since she had spoken to her brother. Each night since, a guard had stood near the rear of the cell, preventing her from making her approach. Left with no other recourse, she had hatched a plan to see the prince. If necessary she would seduce him, but she prayed that he would simply hear her plea and find some other way to save her brother.
“You may enter,” the guard said as he held back the jeweled curtain that separated the outer chamber from Kheper’s private sanctuary.
On hesitant steps she slipped past the man and with her head bowed low, moved inside the small room.
“Put it on the table by the bed,” he commanded.
He stood across the room with his back to her. He wore a short translucent kilt and was in the process of divesting himself of his wristlets and rings.
When she didn’t move, he turned toward her with a raised brow. “Are you deaf or feebleminded, girl?” he said, and pointed to the bedside table. “Put the wine there and then you may go.”
Her hands shook as she bent to place the wine upon the table. As she straightened, she lifted away the cowl that covered her face.
“Teti?” He came around the bed in two strides and gripped her upper arms. “What are you doing here? Why are you dressed like a common servant?”
“I came to speak with you,” she whispered, almost in apology. “You are the only person I could think of who might be able to help us. Khay didn’t do this thing he is accused of … I—I know it!” Her eyes began to fill, and she dashed at her tears with the back of her hand. “I think Iset made him do it. I know my brother; he is not a man who would kill. The trial is tomorrow, and I cannot let him be put to death for something that wasn’t his fault!”
“Shhh,” he murmured, pulling her to him, surrounding her with his warmth. He rubbed her back as if comforting a small child. “Shhh. If Khay didn’t kill Nu-Tete — then Thoth will make it known.”
“How can you know that? It is Iset’s word against Khay’s … and she is a royal princess, the daughter of a god. Thoth is a god.” She wrenched away, not wishing to feel his warmth when his words promised her nothing. “Besides, I think Khay loves her so much he would willingly sacrifice himself for her.”
“Come, sit,” he said, taking her hands in his. “Tell me what you think I can do.”
She let herself be led to a small divan and sat alongside him. She breathed in a deep shuddering breath in an effort to quell the desire to weep openly.
“Can you not speak for him … tell your father that Khay has a kind heart and a good soul, and that he would only have hurt the Nubian if he thought Iset’s life was in danger?” She looked up into eyes the color of the western cliffs at sunset, silently begging him to understand.
“I would never have believed it had I not seen for myself, Teti. Truly I wish I hadn’t. But there is no denying the evidence I saw. Your brother had tried to force himself upon Iset. He was naked and covered in the Nubian’s blood. You saw that for yourself.”
Closing her eyes against the sting of her tears, Tetisheri gripped his hands tightly.
“Iset must have seduced him! She said many times that she would not allow herself to be sent to Nubia. I didn’t believe she meant it — but now I think she had planned this all along.”
Kheper sat back and stared at the painted wall opposite. Teti’s words only echoed what he’d secretly thought more than once in the past days when he’d helped Rekhmire question everyone who’d had contact with Khay. He didn’t doubt for a moment that Khay might have been manipulated, but he couldn’t see any way to prove Iset’s treachery, if indeed his sister was guilty of it.
If Iset were behind the murder of the Nubian, she had unwittingly destroyed his plans as well. His father would not countenance the possibility that he take Teti for a lesser wife, let alone great wife, now that her brother had committed murder. If Khay was condemned at trial tomorrow, Teti would be sent from the palace, and from what he knew of her former life — she would be left virtually destitute. He sighed and lifted one of Teti’s hands to his lips, wishing everything had happened differently.
“I don’t think anything I might say could sway Pharaoh’s decision. He would listen to Rekhmire and the priests first.”
“I will do anything …” she whispered tentatively.
Kheper’s gaze darted to hers as he dropped her hands. Her face had flushed a rich scarlet. “Surely you would not sell yourself to save your brother?”
“I … I don’t know what else I can do! He is innocent, I am sure of it. My life is of little importance … what I do would be but a small sacrifice …”
Thrusting himself up from the divan, he took three paces from her to ensure a measure of distance from the temptation she offered. A few weeks ago he would have taken her without another thought in the belief that she would ultimately be his, but now it seemed like a betrayal. He had no idea where such a noble thought had come from, but it appeared he’d discovered a higher morality since meeting her.
“Under other circumstances … I …” He spun away; he couldn’t face the hurt he could see growing in her eyes.
“I understand,” she stood, and with deliberate motions, covered her head. “I had thought …” She started for the door.
Blocking her exit, he pushed back the cowl. “I don’t think you do understand, Teti. I would give anything to change what has happened. I would give anything to prove your brother’s innocence. A while ago I asked my father’s permission to take you to wife—”
“What?” By degrees her face drained of color, and he could almost see her thoughts reel as her mind took in the meaning of his words.
“I spoke to him about making you my great wife. He promised that he would weigh his thoughts, and once he had met you and Khay, he would give his decision.
“But the death of the Nubian prince has made my request an impossibility. If Khay is found guilty, I could not even suggest you become my concubine … though I would never insult you by asking such.”
Her fingers shook as she lifted them to his cheek. “Kheper …”
Turning his face into her hand, his lids drifted closed as he placed an open-mouthed kiss on her palm. Warmth flooded her, sending a dart of fire through her belly.
“From the day I first found you and your brother on the road north, I have wanted to make you mine,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion, “but now it will never be.”
A long moment of silence stretched as she gazed into his eyes. She could see he told the truth, and she recognized that deep in her heart she wished it too.
Taking a small step closer, she slowly slid her arms about his waist.
“No, Teti,” he said, backing away from her. “There is nothing I can do for Khay — taking you would be a lie, and I will not allow you to prostitute yourself when I can promise nothing in return.”
With a slow shake of her head, she stepped forward to halt his retreat. “Though it hurts me to say it, I understand that you can’t help Khay. I see now that I can’t ask you to do what cannot be done. As you say, I’ll have to trust Thoth to make the truth plain and save my brother.
“What I do now is my own cho
ice … I desire you as you say you have desired me,” she said as she took a small step closer. He felt the heat radiating from her skin though they did not yet touch.
“Whatever becomes of my life, I can, at least, have one small moment of joy to take with me. Khay says I must return to Abydos to hide from the shame he has brought me, and perhaps, after the trial, I may go there to live out my life. But right now, in this moment, I would share myself with you.”
Reaching out, she grazed her fingers lightly over his bare chest, filling him with sudden heat. Tingles followed in the wake of her fingertips. A magical energy flowed into him, and his body began to hum and throb.
Squeezing his eyes shut, he threw back his head as her hands shaped his chest. “Teti, you are tempting me beyond belief,” he said breathlessly as he again looked down at her, “please … go now, or I will accept what you offer.”
With a smile that belied her innocence, she leaned closer until her skin brushed his. “Show me … how it could have been for us.”
He stared into her eyes, long and deep, measuring her true intentions, and in the end he could not back away from her silent call. Her eyes had become luminous pools of welcome, and her scent wrapped around him like a shroud that threatened to drown him in desire. He lifted her gently, reverently, and brought her mouth to his.
What began as soft and sweet filled quickly with fire, and when she opened her mouth to his, he felt an overwhelming drive to consume everything about her. Her tongue felt like hot silk as it twined and danced with his. Her musky woman’s fragrance rose up in waves, blinding his mind to all thought but the vision of her.
He placed her beside the low bed, and in one swift motion, lifted her shift over her head. She was just like he’d imagined. Perfect. Lithe but curved in all the right places. As he removed his kilt his loins tightened to a point where he thought he might explode. It was as if her body had cried out to his, begging to be joined, and his answered with a surge of power so strong it left him light-headed and afraid. He didn’t want to hurt her, but if he didn’t rein in his desire, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself.