Tiy and the Prince of Egypt

by Dee, Debbie

  Towering at almost 280 cubits, Tiy could barely see the pointed top before it disappeared into the sky.

  “Ramose and I have tried to climb it several times, but neither one of us has ever made it to the top.

  Ramose nodded. “It’s too steep,” he said.

  “And slippery,” Amenhotep added.

  Ramose laughed. “We usually end up sliding down on our backsides.”

  “Which is half the fun.”

  Tiy looked toward the top again and her palms began to sweat.

  “I bet you could make it to the top, Tiy,” Amenhotep said.

  Tiy and the others burst into laughter, but when she glanced at Amenhotep and realized he wasn’t laughing with them, her jaw fell open.

  “You are serious,” Tiy said with a raised eyebrow.

  Amenhotep nodded.

  Merymose cleared his throat. “No one I know has been able to make it, especially not a girl,” he said.

  Tiy’s skin prickled with irritation.

  “That sounds like a challenge,” Amenhotep said with an easy smile.

  Tiy looked at Amenhotep, surprised to see complete confidence shining through his dark eyes. Why did he always insist she was more capable than her obvious weaknesses? Sometimes she wondered if he knew her at all.

  “Fine,” she said. “I’ll climb to the top.”

  Amenhotep nodded as if he expected no less from her while everyone else dropped their jaws in surprise.

  “If you climb too,” Tiy added, eyeing Merymose.

  Amenhotep laughed. “The challenge has been accepted and extended! What do you say about that, Merymose?”

  Merymose smirked. “I would say I’d like to see it.”

  Amenhotep laughed. “You hear that, Tiy? He says he’s looking forward to seeing you at the top.”

  Tiy sighed. She knew what Merymose meant. He didn’t think she could make it, and by Ramose’s shaking head, and Petep’s eyebrows in her hairline, they didn’t think she was capable either. A fierce determination to prove them wrong swelled up inside her.

  “Are you coming, Amenhotep?” Tiy asked.

  “Of course,” Amenhotep said with a grin.

  “I’m coming too,” Ramose broke in. “And I’ll be the first to the top.”

  “Ha!” Tiy said, her competitive nature rearing its head. “I’ll make it to the top so far ahead of you that I’ll be able to carve my name three times before you ever show up—with my fingernails.” She clenched her jaw, ignoring the flip of her stomach.

  Ramose puffed his chest. “I’ll make it up so far ahead of you that I’ll be able to carve my name eighteen times—with my elbow.”

  Petep’s nose wrinkled. “That’s so disgusting, Ramose. Anyone who has elbows rough enough to carve stone needs a better body servant.”

  Tiy smirked. “I’ll be able to recite all two hundred chapters of the Book of the Dead. Backwards and forwards.”

  “I’ll grow a beard!” Ramose said.

  Tiy burst into laughter, as did everyone else.

  “I don’t want to be here all day,” Petep said once their laughter quieted. “If you are going to do this, you should start now.”

  Tiy gazed up at the polished limestone caps and her stomach turned flipped again. Each stone was joined with such precision that only hairline joints were visible. It almost looked like the pyramid had been carved from one giant stone. Tiy took a steadying breath.

  She placed her right foot on the surface and leaned forward, letting her fingertips touch the stone above her head. It felt like the board Nebetya used to round her fingernails and Tiy wondered what Nebetya would think of her current path to embarrassment. She would probably cry.

  Pushing off with her other foot, she lifted her body, letting her left foot rise above her right. She took a few tentative steps straight up the pyramid until she was a little more than a body length off the ground. Feeling pleased about her progress, she peeked over her shoulder and grinned at Amenhotep. And then her foot slipped and she found herself sliding on her stomach to the ground.

  Ramose burst out laughing, Petep punched his shoulder, Merymose smirked, and Amenhotep helped her to her feet.

  “You can do it,” Amenhotep said, patting her shoulder. He folded his arms and glared at the boys.

  “I was just getting a feel for the surface,” Tiy said.

  They saw through her fib. Ramose laughed harder, Petep punched his shoulder again, Merymose bit back a smile, and Amenhotep squeezed her hand.

  “Maybe you should stay here and watch the boys go up,” Merymose said.

  “Don’t feel bad,” Petep said. “Amenhotep said himself that he and Ramose have never made it to the top.”

  Ramose barked a laugh. “But we made it higher than three steps.”

  “Hush!” Amenhotep said. Everyone obeyed.

  Tiy faced the pyramid, her face flaming hot and her hands on her hips. She refused to let anyone tell her she was incapable of doing something, especially a couple of boys. Determined to conquer the magnificent structure, she imagined herself climbing the smooth blocks of stone. She imagined how her feet would need to be placed in order to reduce the harsh slope and how she might be able to keep from slipping.

  She kicked off her sandals, knowing the smooth, worn leather soles couldn’t grip the stones the way her flesh could. Ramose quieted. Perhaps he had never thought to remove his sandals. She wanted to turn around and smirk at him, but she resisted. She was still unsure of her plan and didn’t need another fall to add to her humiliation.

  She moved to the west corner of the pyramid and faced the opposite corner. It was so far away that she had to squint to see the edge of it. Placing her foot on the slanted stone, she turned it until it angled nearly horizontal to the ground rather than straight up and down. And then she hoped for the best as she placed one foot in front of the other toward the east corner, gradually gaining altitude with each step. She knew it would be slower than going straight up the side of the pyramid, and might cost her bragging rights, but if she could give herself less incline to handle with each step, she might have a chance.

  The others followed along the base of the pyramid, Merymose joking that the top of the pyramid was the other way. Although he was such a loyal friend to Amenhotep, and very kind most of the time, he irritated her at the moment.

  “I know what I’m doing, Merymose!” Tiy said. Once she reached the east corner she was almost twelve cubits from the ground, twice the distance she had reached when she tried going straight up. It took four times as long, but she didn’t care. Progress was progress.

  Tiy turned around to face the west corner again and worked her way across, gaining a little altitude with every step. She kept a strict eye on the smooth stones beneath her, basking in the shouts of encouragement coming from Amenhotep and Petep. Fifteen minutes later, once she reached the west corner again, she was at least twenty-five cubits off the ground.

  Merymose threw up his arms. “Well, obviously she isn’t going to fall anytime soon. I’m going up.” He took an extra large step up onto the pyramid and followed Tiy’s careful steps.

  Ramose followed him, but Amenhotep was faster and soon created a good distance between himself and the other boys. Petep was the only one to wait at the bottom, claiming she needed to pack their things for the return trip.

  An hour later and a quarter of the way up, the knot in Tiy’s scarf began to loosen under her chin, the wind blowing up underneath the soft linen and picking it up off her wig. She didn’t dare remove her hands from the pyramid to secure it, but feared that, at any moment, her yellow hair would be exposed. Only Amenhotep knew of her strange locks, and seemed to think nothing of them, but would the others still accept her? She had been so careful to keep her hair hidden since her arrival two years before, but with her hands balancing her every step, she feared she would lose precious control if she tried to tighten the scarf. She said a silent prayer to Shu that he wouldn’t blow her scarf off before she reached the top, hoping
he wasn’t still angry at her for forgetting to offer obeisance during the sandstorm.

  At the halfway point, Shu ignored her pleas and blew her scarf into the heavens. Tiy gasped, almost losing her balance, and waited for the exclamations to sound from below. But for whatever reason, Shu had granted her a little dignity and her wig remained as snug as ever. She breathed a sigh of relief. She would earn more freckles than she cared to think about, and Kepi would have another hundred reasons to taunt her, but in that moment she didn’t care. Even halfway up Khufu’s pyramid she felt like the queen of the desert. How much more like a queen would she feel when she reached the top?

  Tiy chanced a glance below and her stomach clenched. Petep looked so small, the ground so far away. Panic spread up her spine until it wrapped its cold hands around her neck. What was she thinking, climbing up slick stone with nothing bare hands and feet? Her right foot slipped and Tiy slapped her hands against the pyramid. But that was not enough to stop her. Wet handprints showed dark against the stone as she began to slide. Pressing her body closer to the surface and spreading her arms and legs wide, she managed to keep from falling any more. Her fall only lasted for a fraction of a second, but it was long enough to send her heart careening to her feet.

  “Having trouble?” Ramose teased.

  “No!” Tiy said, hoping he didn’t notice the tremble in her voice. “I’m just taking a break.”

  Her heart beat against her chest, threatening to push her away from the stone.

  “You don’t have to go all the way to the top,” Amenhotep said. He was ahead of Ramose, but still a good distance from her. “You’ve already made it much higher than Ramose ever dreamed of reaching.”

  “I’m going to the top,” she practically growled. There was no way she was going to let Ramose see her give up. Gritting her teeth, she ignored the nauseating distance below her and pressed forward.

  After another two hours of climbing and well after she thought her limbs would turn into mud, Tiy saw sky in front of her rather than stone. Her heart quickened. She had reached the top.

  Chapter 17. Midnight Mistake

  Amenhotep was next to reach the top, then Ramose and finally, Merymose. Petep’s tiny voice cheered for them as she jumped up and down, her voice carrying surprisingly well for someone who looked like nothing more than a tiny bug at the bottom of a hill.

  The top of the pyramid had eroded to a small flat surface big enough to fit the four of them if they sat back to back with their legs dangling down. North, south, east, west; they all had their direction to gaze toward. The sight was incredible.

  Tiy faced west where the red sun slipped below the horizon. She could almost see the Semktet boat carrying Ra into the Underworld. A dazzling display of oranges and yellows trailed in its wake and melted into the black sand.

  Although Amenhotep faced north, he watched the west as well, in reverent awe of the setting sun. None of them spoke as the yellows darkened into orange, the oranges into red and finally into the blackness of night. Thousands of glittering stars spread out above them like a thick blanket of twinkling lights.

  Amenhotep turned his head to whisper in her ear as if a voice much louder would shatter the wonder they felt being so close to the heavens.

  “Look over there,” he said pointing to the sky. “Do you see those three bright stars in a line?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, they aren’t in a perfect line, but they are three stars of the belt of Osiris, god of the Afterlife.” Amenhotep pointed out the additional stars that made the shape of Osiris.

  “Osiris is a companion to the sun god,” he continued in a whisper. “In his belt, there are two brighter stars in line with a smaller third star that is not quite in line with the others. Do you see?”

  “Yes.”

  “Now look at the pyramids. We are in the middle of three, two larger and a smaller one built not quite in line with the others.”

  “Amazing,” Tiy said. “Do you think Khufu intended the pyramids to match the stars?”

  “I believe so. See that long cluster of stars spreading across the sky? That looks a lot like the Nile to me.”

  Petep screamed and Tiy’s hand shot to Amenhotep’s arm. “Get down here right now!” Tia shouted. “I swear I just saw the spirit of Khufu in full battle attire!”

  Amenhotep sighed. “I suppose we should rescue Petep from being courted by Pharaohs of the past.”

  “Death by deity isn’t such a bad way to go,” Tiy said with mock seriousness.

  The four of them chuckled.

  Petep screamed again and Merymose shifted. “You don’t think she really saw Khufu, do you?”

  The wind wound its way through the four of them, whispering of Egypt’s past. Tiy shuddered.

  “Maybe we better go down sooner rather than later,” Ramose said.

  “How are we going to do that without breaking our necks?” Tiy asked, peering down toward where the ground should be, her stomach churning. She saw blackness, nothing more.

  Amenhotep cleared his throat. “I think if we lean on our backs and follow our feet, we should be fine.”

  “And we should be able to control our speed if we keep our arms spread out,” Merymose added. “We probably shouldn’t go too fast or our sheaths will tear and our backs will look like raw meat.”

  “Great.” Tiy mumbled.

  “I’ll go first,” Ramose said glancing at Amenhotep. “If I have any problems, I’ll let you know.”

  “We’ll be fine,” Amenhotep said. Tiy could almost hear his eye-roll.

  “We should have gone down when we could still see,” Merymose said. “We’ll have no idea when to brace for the landing.”

  “You aren’t helping,” Tiy said.

  Merymose smirked. “We’ll probably break our legs. Or worse yet, snap our necks.”

  “It’ll be fine, Tiy,” Amenhotep said. “Just keep your feet in front of you and you’ll be on the ground before you know it.”

  “You might die, though,” Merymose said with a chuckle.

  “Merymose,” Amenhotep said in a growl.

  Ramose put his hands up to cup around his mouth. “I’m coming down Petep!”

  A few seconds passed before she answered. “It’s about time!” she called.

  Ramose took the plunge and slid feet first. Tiy held her breath for several long, agonizing minutes of silence until he let out a loud whoop. “Prepare yourselves for the thrill of a lifetime!”

  At the insistence of Amenhotep, Merymose went next. When he called up with a hurrah, Amenhotep took hold of Tiy’s hand.

  “Do you want to go together?” he asked.

  Tiy shook her head. “No, I can do it.”

  She scooted closer to the edge and leaned back, losing her breath the moment she fell into darkness. She wanted to scream, but the wind pushed it back into her throat. With her feet firmly below her and her palms open on either side, she slowed herself and maintained a reasonable pace she could be comfortable with. She opened her eyes wide to take in the black emptiness all around her and found herself laughing with exhilarating terror as she plummeted into the unknown.

  Not far into her descent, the wind rushed underneath her wig and sent it whirling into the darkness. Without thinking, Tiy reached out with both arms—one hand whipping across her chest to stretch with the other—and her body flipped onto her stomach. Panicked, Tiy kicked a leg behind the other, hoping to flip back over, but the only thing she accomplished was to turn her body clockwise so that she was sliding head-first to the bottom. She threw her hands over her head, terrified she would crash into the hard ground at any moment. Merymose was right—she would break her neck.

  No longer able to restrain her speed, she flew down the side of the pyramid like a bird falling from the sky, her eyes squeezed shut against the biting wind. Her linen kalasiris tore from the neckline to her waist and the stone grated against her skin like sandpaper. She reached out with her arms in quick, jerky motions, hoping to recreate the sam
e motion that had gotten her into her predicament in the first place, but nothing worked. All because of her stupid, stupid wig. The air turned warm and she knew she was nearing the bottom. At any moment, her neck would snap.

  In one last desperate attempt to right herself—and save herself from becoming a heap of broken bones—she twisted her legs to the left and her arms out to the right. Her body twisted again, and although she was still sliding down on her stomach, she was feet first. A definite improvement.

  She used her hands to slow her momentum, pressing her palms against the smooth stone with all her strength. It worked enough so that when her feet hit the ground her legs buckled, but didn’t break. The air whooshed into her lungs for what felt like the first time in ten minutes, although it couldn’t have been more than one. She smiled, despite almost having lost her life. She knew that if she could do it again, she would. But without the wig.

  Tiy pushed onto to her knees and stretched to her full height. Her kalasiris was torn, but with a few tugs, twists and knots, she was able to remain decently covered and hide the sorest portions of her skin. Fortunately, her skin was still intact, even if it burned as if on fire.

  “Tiy?” Petep called from the dark.

  Tiy’s hands shot to her hair and she groaned. Her pale yellow hair cascaded down her back in waves of color so close to white that it shone like a beacon in the moon’s glow.

  Amenhotep landed next to Tiy in a crouch, his lean body as steady as a panther. He took one look at her bedraggled state and pulled a cloth from his tunic, wrapping it around her hair with a knowing smile.

  “Thanks,” Tiy said.

  “What are friends for?”

  “Right.” She could never have asked for a better one.

  “What happened?”

  While everyone mounted their camels, she whispered to him of the wind and what it did to her wig.

  “It was probably Khufu trying to make us pay for desecrating his tomb,” Amenhotep said.

  Tiy’s eyes widened. “No it wasn’t,” she whispered.

  Amenhotep nodded gravely and then, catching her eye, he chuckled. “No, you just seem to be having a life-long disagreement with Shu. His winds are after you.”