by Dee, Debbie
Amenhotep always had so much confidence in her. He was always praising her intelligence and beauty. Tonight it seemed to sink deeper than it had before. Perhaps it was because he was holding her so close and making her feel secure. Or perhaps it was the sincerity in his voice, or that she was just beginning to recognize the things she had accomplished, the difficult circumstances she had found ways to rise above, and the measures she had taken to become a strong queen. Amenhotep was right. The people were beginning to trust her and she needed to learn to trust them as well, including the eight guards outside the door. She felt a weight lift off her chest. She should have talked to Amenhotep long ago. He always managed to make her feel better.
But Amenhotep was still angry. His voice clipped as he spoke. “If I didn’t need Merymose in Nubia so badly, I would bring them up here for a trial and quick hanging.”
“Merymose had nothing to do with this. It was just Kepi and her jealousy. You know she wanted to be the one to marry you.”
“Yes, I know, but that is no excuse. I’ll handle this.”
“Let’s just forget about her. I feel sorry for her. She married a decent man and has the opportunity to create a happy life with him, but she is too consumed with the past. I can already tuck my hair behind my ears. Before long it will be as if it never happened. We’ll look back on this experience and laugh about it.”
“I doubt that,” he said but she could tell that he had gotten control of his anger. His breathing was no longer rushing in and out of his nose and his arms had relaxed around her. “She’ll regret what she has done.”
“She probably already does. She was behaving differently before she gave me the drink, almost as if she knew her actions wouldn’t go unpunished, but she couldn’t help herself.”
They were both quiet for a while. Tiy hoped she hadn’t made a mistake in telling Amenhotep. After the bull hunt, she never wanted to see him in harm’s way again. Something he’d said before jumped to the front of her mind and she remembered the uneasy feeling it had given her.
“Amenhotep?” Tiy whispered. His breathing had become shallow, and she guessed he was almost asleep, but her question couldn’t wait until morning.
“Hmmmm?” He mumbled.
“Why do you need Merymose in Nubia so badly?
“What?”
“You said that if you didn’t need Merymose in Nubia so badly, you’d call them back.”
“Yeah,” he mumbled.
“Why?”
“The rebellion.”
Tiy’s heart fluttered. “What about the rebellion?”
“It’s gaining momentum again.” He rolled over.
Tiy took hold of his shoulder and shook him awake. He couldn’t expect her to sleep now! Amenhotep rubbed a hand over his face and sat up.
“I meant to tell you sooner,” he said, “but you’ve been so busy interviewing servants and guards and chefs, replacing half a dozen every day with new ones, that I didn’t want to bother you with something still in its infancy.” He paused for a moment and then chuckled. “I think I know why you have been conducting all those interviews, why you insisted to be the one to do it.”
Tiy shrugged. “I only want those with the highest integrity surrounding you. You wanted a goddess protector as your queen, and that is what I will give you.”
Amenhotep chuckled again. “You have certainly become a formidable presence among the servants.”
“As I should be.” She couldn’t help but smile. She was glad to have any presence in the palace, let alone a formidable one. “What are you going to do about the rebellion?”
“If it doesn’t settle down soon, we will have to go to war. Merymose will have lived among the Nubians for a good length of time by then and his knowledge of the area and the people will help.”
“How serious is it?”
“The number of Nubian mercenaries employed by the Egyptian army has dwindled in the last year, giving me reason to believe that many of them have joined the rebellion. I’d rather avoid conflict, if possible. I see no reason for bloodshed when it can be prevented.”
“How long do you think we can avoid this? It seems to keep coming back at us?”
Amenhotep sighed. “When people are intent on total control, they often stop at nothing until they have either achieved their goals or are brought to death. Naturally, neither appeals to me.”
Nor did they appeal to her. Most of the Egyptian noblemen and their high-class families regarded their Nubian neighbors as vile and wretched, existing for the sole purpose of supplying their cattle and slave populations. However, most of the countrymen and cattle-raising families recognized the Nubians as hard working and industrious people. Her father was among those who recognized the Nubian’s worth, despite his high status as the royal Superintendent of Cattle. Her mother, on the other hand, wasn’t so tolerant. As kind as she was to their southern slaves, she often blamed the Nubians for Egypt’s problems. If the Nile didn’t flood high enough to reach all of their crops, the Nubians were to blame. If the price of obsidian and ivory was too high, the Nubians were to blame. She was probably right about the latter, but Tiy couldn’t fathom how she could blame the Nubians for something the god of the Nile controlled. Hapi sent the flood if he was pleased with Egypt and her Pharaoh, not because of anything the Nubians did or did not do.
Tiy was glad Amenhotep favored diplomacy over weapons, not just because she hated to see so many lives cut short, but because she didn’t want Amenhotep to risk his life leading the Egyptian Army into an attack. It was customary for pharaohs to act as commanders over their armies and Amenhotep would be no different. Her protective instinct over Amenhotep flared and she hoped that if they were forced into war, Amenhotep might appoint someone else commander over his army. It was unlikely, but worth asking for her peace of mind.
“Amenhotep,” Tiy whispered, “Are you still awake?”
“No.”
“If we go to war, will you be leading the army into battle?”
“Shhh, I’m sleeping. We’ll talk about it more tomorrow.”
He tucked her closer to him, her back pressing against his chest. He was her best friend, yet lying next to him with his arms around her seemed to cross over the line of friendship and into a territory she didn’t find as awkward as she thought she would. She realized with a flutter that something in their relationship had changed forever.
PART 3
Desert Warrior
1388 BC
Contents
Chapter 34. Over the Edge
Chapter 35. War Room
Chapter 36. Star in Memphis
Chapter 37. Nile Monster
Chapter 38. Familiar Face
Chapter 39. Late Warning
Chapter 40. Two Souls
Chapter 41. True Love
Note from the Author
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Chapter 34. Over the Edge
The rebellion in the south escalated despite Amenhotep’s efforts for a peaceful resolution. They received reports of livestock being slaughtered and crops destroyed. Groups of angry fanatics blocked malachite and galena quarries, and robbers barricaded trade routes to prevent the passage of ivory and ebony into Egypt.
Tiy developed her own correspondence with foreign dignitaries in hopes of assisting Amenhotep in his diplomatic efforts. As kings and high officials from other countries sent lengthy correspondences with accompanying gifts of gold, she felt her confidence rise. They welcomed her involvement and she soon became more comfortable interjecting herself in foreign and local policies. With Amenhotep’s attention turning to the escalating rebellion, she often found herself sitting alone upon the Horus throne, making fierce decisions, dictating necessary orders, and sharing intelligence of vital importance with the priests and royal officials. As the days progressed, she found she could be fierce and strong and yet still rule with fairness and thoughtful consideration.
She was becoming more comfortable with herself,
no longer lathering mass quantities of perfumed oils on her skin to prevent freckles. Rather, she spent hours in the sun, soaking up its warmth and letting the breeze explore her yellow locks. She often took her wig off as she wandered the palace grounds, the growing confidence within her keeping her usual embarrassment at bay. She had always liked herself, but now she wasn’t afraid to reveal her true self—the new, stronger, more confident person she’d become.
“Amenhotep is waiting for me,” Tiy said to Nebetya. “Everyone is waiting.”
“Let them wait,” Nebetya said as she dusted gold onto Tiy’s cheeks and brow. “It isn’t every day a girl becomes a woman.”
“I became a woman the day I married Pharaoh.”
Nebetya and the other servant girls ducked their heads to hide a knowing smile.
Tiy shook her head. “What I meant was that I became an adult the moment I took Egypt on my shoulders and became her queen. I haven’t been a child since I sat on the Horus throne two years ago.” Tiy paused as a sudden thought struck her. When had she jumped over the chasm of youth? She didn’t remember a precise moment, or a conscience decision to step into adulthood. It had just happened, almost without her knowing it.
“Even so,” Nebetya said, bringing Tiy out of her musings, “it is the eve of your seventeenth year since birth. There is much cause for celebration.” She burst into a fresh wave of tears.
Another servant moved in take over Nebetya’s efforts, applying aged honey to diamonds before placing the tiny gems near the outer corner of Tiy’s eyes. After several long minutes of silence, other than Nebetya’s sobs, the servants stepped back and bowed.
Tiy stood and gave Nebetya’s shoulder a squeeze. “It is just another celebration,” she said.
Nebetya nodded and Tiy left her room and made her way to the Assembly Chamber. The room twinkled with the light of a thousand small candles clinging to the walls. Each flame lit the center of a tiny lotus bud that had been molded from wet sand and pressed against the walls as it dried. The temporary plaster would be a mess to clean in the morning, but it would be an effort well worth the sight.
Amenhotep rose from his throne and the music ceased. A rustle of fabric filled the silence as their guests lowered to the ground. Tiy kept her chin high as she followed the break in the crowd and stepped onto the dais. After a surprisingly elegant curtsy for Amenhotep, she accepted his outstretched hand and took her place next to him.
Amenhotep tapped his crook twice and the music resumed, the guests continuing their lively dance and conversation. “You are so old,” he said low enough that only she could hear. “I hope you don’t start going gray because I can’t be married to someone who looks that old.”
Tiy’s mouth fell open.
Amenhotep winked and then laughed, his shoulders bouncing up and down as he tried to hold his laughter in.
While nodding at a noblewoman who had bowed in greeting, Tiy pinched the inside of Amenhotep’s arm. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” she asked with a sly smile.
Amenhotep grinned. “I said I can’t believe I’m married to someone who looks like gold.”
“That’s what I thought you said.” She smiled and rubbed her finger across her cheek, holding it up for Amenhotep to see the gold dust. “I am wearing gold,” she said with a laugh.
Amenhotep took her hand and kissed her gold-dusted fingertip. “Not all the gold in the world could out shine you.”
A scream filled the Assembly Chamber, smothering the warmth in Tiy’s chest and wiping the smile from Amenhotep’s face. Another scream pierced the air followed by a dozen voices shouting from the entryway. Arrows showered in from the high windows, and before Tiy could make sense of her actions, she lurched for Amenhotep, pulling him off his throne. They fell to their knees in a huddle as a swarm of soldiers surrounded them. Amenhotep glanced over his shoulder and Tiy followed his gaze to find the blade of an axe embedded into the throne where Amenhotep’s head had been moments before. He flinched and crouched closer to the floor, pulling Tiy to him. Another round of arrows, spears and axes erupted from every direction, beating against the guards’ shields.
“Crawl underneath the throne,” Amenhotep shouted over the screams. “You can hide in the room behind the Mitannian rug.”
“I’m not leaving you,” Tiy said. “I’m meant to protect you.”
“You have,” he said, glancing at the axe again.
Tiy shook her head. The room sounded as if it was crashing down all around them—glass shattering, wood splintering, pots smashing. How much longer would their guards be able to withstand the onslaught? “Come with me,” she said.
“I will not abandon my people.”
“Neither will I!”
“You have no training in combat. You’ll be dead the moment you step out from behind the guards.”
As if to reinforce his statement, an arrow sliced between the legs of their guards and grazed across her shoulder, cutting it just enough to draw blood. She let out a surprised yelp.
Amenhotep’s jaw tightened. “I won’t have you in the middle of this,” he said, pushing her toward the throne. “Get under there.”
Tiy threw her weight against him, her back to his chest, and braced her feet against the throne legs. “You are the one who should escape,” she said through clenched teeth. “Egypt would be lost without you! I am nothing to Egypt.”
Amenhotep flipped her around as if she were no heavier than a rag doll. “I am Egypt,” he said, his face so close she could feel his breath on her cheek. “And you are everything to me. I want you behind that rug. Now!”
Tiy opened her mouth to protest but Amenhotep help up a hand. “In the far corner there is a chest with a sword in it. It is Roman so it might feel strange in your hands, but I want you to take it up and hold it out in front of you until I come for you.”
Tiy looked down at Amenhotep’s weaponless state and nodded. She didn’t care what he said. She was going to grab the sword and bring it back to him. If he insisted on putting himself in danger, then she refused to leave him without a way to protect himself. She took a deep breath and ducked underneath the throne.
Sliding on her belly, she reached the corner of the hanging rug and slipped behind it. She jumped to her feet and dashed to the chest, pulling it open to reveal the Emperor of Rome’s gift. She didn’t have time to admire its beauty. Grabbing the hilt she whirled around and her breath caught in her throat. A man in a dark cloak stood between her and the door.
“The gods are in my favor tonight,” he said with a Nubian accent. “They have put the Queen of Egypt at the tip of my sword.”
Tiy held up the Roman sword, the jeweled hilt glinting off the Nubian man’s face. As far as Egypt was concerned she was the goddess Nekhbet, almighty and powerful. Why would the gods turn on one of their own? She squared her shoulders. “You cannot harm me,” she said.
The Nubian raised an eyebrow. “I can and I will. And then I will end your pharaoh’s reign. I have no doubt he is still cowering between his throne and guards.”
“It is better that he not fight this battle. A dead king can do nothing for his people.”
The Nubian smirked. “Exactly.”
He lunged forward and Tiy thrust her sword toward him, aiming for the softness of his bare stomach. But in a movement almost too swift to believe, he knocked the blade out of her grip and clenched his arm around her neck.
Tiy reached back and pressed her thumbs into the Nubian’s eyes, screaming with every ounce of strength she had left. His grip loosened, but not enough for her to get away. She squirmed and reached back to try again, but he snatched both her hands in his and wrestled her to the ground, pinning her underneath him.
“Don’t worry,” the Nubian whisper-shouted in her ear. “It will be only moments before Pharaoh joins you. And with no heir to speak of, Egypt will crumble.” He twisted both arms behind her and pressed a knee into her overlapped hands.
Tiy turned her head, her cheek pressing against the cold marble fl
oor. “Egypt will live. As will Pharaoh!”
The Nubian pulled a knife from his waist and brought it to her neck. Tiy sucked in a breath, bracing for the moment the cool metal dug into her flesh.
The Mitannian rug flung to the side, ripping from the walls to expose Amenhotep with a swarm of guards behind him. His eyes bulged, but before Tiy could call out to him, he snatched a bow from the nearest guard and shot an arrow into the Nubian’s chest.
The Nubian clutched at the protruding arrow and crumbled forward. Tiy cried out as the arrow nock bore down onto her back, the force of it pushing the shaft further into the Nubian’s chest. She struggled against the weight of death on her back and just as she thought she might scream again, the Nubian flew off her back and into the wall. Amenhotep lowered his arms and knelt by her side.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice shaking with anger.
Tiy brought a hand to her neck and sighed with relief. She felt nothing but unbroken skin. She shook her head. “I’m unharmed. What about you? Are you hurt?”
“No.” He stood and took a deep breath, waves of anger rolling from him. “They have gone too far.”
Tiy nodded. “How did this happen?” Her voice cracked at the end.
Amenhotep pulled her to her feet and gathered her into his arms. “Oh, Tiy,” he said. “When I heard you scream…”
Tiy pulled back to look into his eyes. He looked haunted, as if his sanity had been pushed over the edge. He blinked twice and seemed to get a hold of himself, his strength and courage returning.
Tiy noticed the silence outside the room. “Is it finished?” she asked.
“No,” Amenhotep said.
Tiy straightened. “We should go help them. We need to fight for our people!” She took hold of his upper arm and began pulling him toward the door.
Amenhotep didn’t budge. “The rebel faction has been eliminated. This one, at least. It is the rebellion that isn’t finished. I can no longer pretend that it will resolve by letters alone.”