by Dee, Debbie
“What do you mean?”
Amenhotep picked up the fallen Roman sword. “I will fight to protect Egypt.”
Tiy sucked in a breath. So, it would be war. She squared her shoulders. “I will fight with you. We all will.”
Chapter 35. War Room
Tiy paced the length of the room alongside a table with maps spread open across the length of it. Every vizier and senior priest of Upper Egypt would be filing in at any moment to discuss the first preparations for war. There would be plenty of contention around the table as opinions were voiced, but it would be nothing compared to the hostility ahead of them.
“Would you please sit down,” Amenhotep said. “You are acting like your mother.”
Tiy whipped around to face him, her eyes narrowed. “Just what do you mean by that?”
Amenhotep chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. “You are more stressed than a hen thrown into a harem of cats.”
“I want to make certain we make the best decisions for our people.”
“We will.” He paused and glanced out the window. “I have asked the wives of my viziers to join us as well.”
Tiy’s heart plummeted. “Why?” she asked, her voice tight. If the wives were coming, that meant Kepi was coming as well.
A knock sounded on the door.
“Stop your pacing,” Amenhotep said. “I want you by my side.”
Tiy put her hands on her hips. “You should have told me she was coming.”
Amenhotep shook his head and beckoned her toward him with his hand. “If I had, you would have done everything within your power to convince me otherwise.”
Tiy opened her mouth to protest, even though he was right, but was cut off by another knock on the door. She hurried to the head of the table, surprised when Amenhotep led her up a small dais to where the double throne rested. It looked more like a bench than a throne, but it added to the vision that she and Amenhotep were a united force.
“It’ll be only for a moment,” Amenhotep said in answer to her scowl.
Tiy nodded and took her place on the throne, beginning to understand why he had insisted she wear her full headdress and finest kalasiris. She neutralized her expression, straightened her back and held her chin high.
“Enter,” Amenhotep said.
The priests and viziers were first to enter, bowing before the throne before taking their seats at the table. Their wives followed, each offering a curtsy before finding a seat along the wall. The women, in particular, seemed thrilled to be included among Pharaoh’s counsel, even if they were relegated to the edges of the room.
But no one seemed more thrilled than Kepi. It was her first court appearance since moving to Nubia and it was clear she had put every effort into her appearance. Her eyes had been dusted with malachite green, her lips painted ochre red. Even her nails had been stained with henna. Her face lit with a dazzling smile as she curtseyed before the throne, her eyes focused on Amenhotep. Just before she rose, she glanced at Tiy and gave an almost imperceptible smirk.
Tiy held her chin higher, refusing Kepi the customary nod she had given the other women. It was a severe insult to be spurned by the queen, but Kepi didn’t seem to notice, or care. She didn’t even notice the shocked expressions of the women she sat next to or the slight movement they made to distance themselves from her. Kepi’s eyes remained on Amenhotep.
Amenhotep waited for everyone to get seated before speaking. “Queen Tiy and I can no longer hope for a peaceful resolution in the south. As I am sure you have been made aware, I have issued a Declaration of War against Nubia.”
A nod of agreement rounded the table.
“Two armies will be assembled, one in Memphis and the other in Thebes. They will be split into three hundred companies of two hundred and fifty infantry soldiers. Are you in agreement?”
Another round of nods circled the table.
“Yuya, father of Tiy, Queen of Egypt, you may stand and approach.”
Tiy smiled as her father looked around the table before standing, surprise etched in his brow. Tiy glanced at her mother and smiled at the mixture of anticipation and awe she saw on her face. Her father approached the dais and bowed low to the ground.
“I am at your service, Great One, Lord of the Two Lands,” her father said.
Amenhotep touched the tip of his flail to her father’s forehead. “I appoint you Chief Commander of Chariotry and give you responsibility over the elite chariot corps, the Maryannu.”
Her father burst with pride, his chest puffed with importance as he stood. “I will rise to the challenge and give all that I have,” he said.
“Egypt accepts your vow. You may return to your seat, Yuya,” Amenhotep said.
Her father returned to his seat, no doubt eyeing her mother along the way, considering the look of pure elation on her face.
“Vizier Ramose, you may stand and approach,” Amenhotep said.
Ramose rose from his seat and bowed before the dais with less gusto, but no less respect.
“I too am at your service, Pharaoh,” Ramose said, winking at Tiy before he finished his bow.
The corner of Amenhotep’s mouth lifted and Tiy had to chew on the inside of her lip to keep from laughing. Ramose’s sense of humor always cropped up at the strangest of times.
“Vizier Ramose,” Amenhotep began, “I give you stewardship over the ground troops stationed in Thebes. Do you accept?”
“I do, Pharaoh.” He bowed again and returned to his seat, the weight of his responsibility preventing him from releasing any winks or sly smiles.
Amenhotep sat a little straighter “Vizier Merymose, you may approach,”
Merymose rose from his seat like a nervous colt, his eyes flickering between Tiy’s head and the floor. Although she wore a long, dark wig, Tiy realized Merymose was aware of what Kepi had done to her. Her eyes narrowed.
Merymose bowed lower than her father and Ramose had. “I am humbly at your service, Pharaoh, King of Egypt, Son of Ra, Lord of the Two Lands—”
Amenhotep raised a hand and Merymose closed his mouth. “Given your unique knowledge of the Nubian territory I would like you to lead the ground troops from Memphis. Do you accept this great honor and responsibility?”
Merymose’s eyes widened and flicked once more to Tiy. “Yes. Yes, of course, Your Majesties, Pharaoh and Queen Tiy.”
Tiy groaned inwardly. Why had she assigned him the vizier-ship? She had been desperate to get rid of them and figured there was no better place than the awful seat of the Nubian Vizier. But she had practically paved the way for him to receive one of the most prestigious offices in the Egyptian army and now she would have to work with him on a more frequent basis.
Amenhotep swung the flail over Merymose’s head. “Do you give your allegiance to the Double Crown of Egypt?”
“I do,” Merymose said.
“Do you swear upon the life of the son of Ra to speak none else but the truth?”
Merymose’s brows knit together. “I do,” he said.
“Egypt accepts your vow. You may return to your seat, Vizier,” Amenhotep said. “Kepi, wife of Vizier Merymose, you may approach.”
Kepi rose from her chair by the wall, self-import bringing her nose in the air. Her lips curled up in a smile as if she too expected a prestigious responsibility. Merymose, on the other hand, lost all color in his face.
Tiy tilted her chin higher, lowering only her eyes to watch Kepi bow before the dais.
“Pharaoh Amenhotep, how may I be of service to Egypt,” Kepi said in a pretentious voice. A few murmurs broke from the women, no doubt surprised by Kepi’s use of Amenhotep’s given name.
Amenhotep waited for the women to quiet and for the room to thicken with silence. When he opened his mouth, his voice came out like thunder. “Did you or did you not assault Pharaoh’s Great Royal Wife, Tiy, Queen of Egypt?”
Tiy’s mouth turned dry, but she couldn’t tear her eyes off the panicked expression marring Kepi’s beautiful features. A flurry of w
hispers spread through the women.
Kepi stood and her eyes flickered toward Tiy, horror and shock written across her face. “I—”
“And did you or did you not threaten the life of Pharaoh, Lord of the Two Lands, King of Egypt?” Amenhotep said, his voice piercing the souls of everyone in the room.
Kepi’s mouth fell open. Merymose stood from the table, his jaw also slackened. After a moment he sat, his shoulders slumped. He had given his allegiance to Amenhotep, had even sworn on his life to speak only truth. Unless he wanted to risk his acceptance into the Afterlife, there was nothing he could do for his wife. The whispering increased as the men joined in, everyone throwing shocked expressions toward Merymose and Kepi.
Kepi snapped her mouth shut and smoothed her face to a calm expression. “I have done no such thing.”
Amenhotep leaned forward, his jaw set. “Are you calling Pharaoh’s Great Royal Wife, Tiy, Queen of Egypt, a liar?”
Kepi stumbled back a step. Defaming the honor of the queen was punishable by death. But so was assaulting and threatening her. Kepi looked to Merymose for help, but when none came, she looked to her friends sitting along the wall. They too had noble blood and usually those of higher rank stood together. But never against the queen. Or the Pharaoh.
Tiy placed an arm behind Amenhotep, suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude for his strength and determination to support her. A small smile softened his features as he sat straighter and leaned against her arm.
“I would never presume to declare Her Majesty, Queen Tiy, a speaker of lies, Great Pharaoh,” Kepi said.
“Do you deny the allegations set before you?” Amenhotep asked.
“I am innocent, Great Lord of Egypt,” Kepi said through clenched teeth.
Amenhotep took in a deep breath. “What proof do you have of your innocence?”
“What proof does she have?” Kepi shouted, thrusting a pointed finger at Tiy.
The entire room seemed to gasp at once.
Amenhotep’s grip on the crook tightened, his knuckles turning white. “Will anyone stand in defense of the accused?” he asked.
Kepi turned left and right, pleading with her eyes, but none would meet her gaze. The room became still, silent. No one, not even Merymose, stood for her.
Amenhotep struck the bottom of his crook to the marble floor. “I declare Kepi, wife of Vizier Merymose, stripped of all privileges among the royal courts, including all rights to the temples, festivals and assemblies.”
Kepi fell to her knees, her face white. For a girl who grew up among the wealth of Egypt, it was a fate worse than death. Merymose hung his head as the room filled with gasps and shocked whispers.
Amenhotep continued. “If you fail to adhere to your punishments or so much as show your face among society, your rights to the Afterlife will also be removed.”
Kepi began sobbing, “But I have done nothing wrong!”
Amenhotep struck his crook to the ground again, but Tiy suspected it was done more out of anger than in tradition to the proceedings. His eyes moved over those in attendance. “And if anyone is found associating with her, they will also lose their rights to the Afterlife.”
A fresh wave of astonishment spread over the room. No one would sacrifice their chances of the Afterlife to help Kepi. Tiy’s lips relaxed into the tiniest of smiles. Amenhotep had never felt threatened by Kepi, but he had made sure Tiy could feel just as secure.
Kepi rose to her feet, her eyes no longer fixed on Amenhotep, but boring into Tiy’s with murder and hate. She pointed another finger at Tiy, her face a deep shade of red. “I did nothing she did not deserve! She is defiling Egypt’s crown!”
The room erupted into a chorus of shouts, all in defense of Tiy’s name. Amenhotep’s voice cut above them all. “Your tongue will be cut from your mouth for such insolence! Never again will you speak ill of the queen.”
Kepi’s entire frame shook as she glared at Tiy. “I would rather die.”
Amenhotep stood and the room hushed as everyone lurched to their feet. He stared down on her like an angry bull, his nostrils flaring with every breath. Kepi matched his gaze without flinching, a final testament to her strength.
Amenhotep tapped his crook twice, the sound echoing up into the highest corners of the ceiling. Although his voice lowered, Tiy knew everyone in the room felt the force of it.
“So be it,” he said.
Chapter 36. Star in Memphis
Although Tiy was present for Kepi’s beheading, she couldn’t watch, nor could she bear to see the pain on Merymose’s face after it happened. But when he glanced her way, as he often did during war deliberations, she never saw blame or anger in his eyes, only shame and regret. As if to relieve his grief and humiliation, he dedicated himself more than anyone to the war efforts, forgetting himself in his work. He became a model of respect and dedication to the crown and Tiy knew it was only a matter of time before the memory of Kepi’s transgressions would no longer stain his reputation.
A sense of urgency hovered among all those involved with planning the war efforts. Everyone, it seemed, had their own agendas and ideas that would, in their belief, enhance the campaign. Discussions were always held in the War Room, and almost every day several arguments broke out as the conversation grew heated. Amenhotep needed only to clear his throat for everyone to regain focus.
After several weeks of fierce discussion and painstaking planning, everyone was finally satisfied that all avenues had been explored. Their stratagem was simple: surround and overwhelm. The garrisons stationed in Thebes, constituting a third of the army, would follow Ramose and march through the eastern desert, past Nubia, and return along the Nile toward the southern Nubian borders. Merymose would lead those stationed in Memphis, including her father’s chariot corps, to the deserts of the east as well, but turn west at the bend between the fourth and fifth Nile cataracts in order to surround the eastern borders of the Nubian capital, Kerma. Amenhotep and his fleet would follow the Nile and surround Kerma from the north and west, using the waters as both a tool and a weapon.
The only risk with their plan was that the army would be split. It would weaken each division, but they were confident in their strength and skill, and fortified by their swift chariots and massive fleets. Several touted these strengths, but Tiy couldn’t help but glance at Amenhotep with worry seeping into every part of her body. She would join him on the journey toward Kerma, but at Amenhotep’s insistence, would be receiving accommodations far outside Nubia where she would remain during the battles. It was a compromise they had agreed upon after far too many arguments to count. He wanted her far from the battles and she wanted to be near him. They agreed she would stop just beyond the borders of Nubia in a city called Dakka. It was a city that had remained faithful to the Egyptian crown and was also within a few days journey from Kerma should she need to travel to the Nubian capital. She was satisfied with their compromise, but not entirely pleased.
The meeting came to a close and Tiy reached her arms above her head to stretch. Turning to Amenhotep she sighed. “Long day,” she said through a yawn.
“I need to visit the priest of Amun,” Amenhotep said as he stood from his chair.
“That is a good idea. I’ll see you later?” Tiy asked even though she knew she’d see him later. She always saw him later.
Amenhotep nodded.
He didn’t come to her room until the early morning hours. Slumping onto the bed, still clothed in his daytime robes, he was asleep before she could sweep the cobwebs from her mind and formulate a coherent question about his visit with the priest. He looked exhausted, worry lines pressed into his forehead. She always thought he was too young to bear the burdens of a pharaoh; however, watching him sleep, watching his body heal, she realized he was, at seventeen, more of a man than many twice his age. She kissed his forehead, a simple expression that felt fitting at that moment. She kissed him again, this time on the cheek and he sighed in his sleep. She wanted to kiss him again, but she didn’t want to wake him
. But with those few kisses, she felt something inside her stir to life. And for the first time, she thought she might know what that feeling could be.
***
Morning came sooner than she expected. She had been unable to find any rest after Amenhotep came into her room, worrying about the days and weeks ahead of them, about Amenhotep’s safety, and the fate of Egypt.
Before she could take a breath, they were preparing to board the ships that would carry them to Nubia. She stepped aboard the newly finished royal ship, the Appearing in Truth, excited to finally see what Amenhotep had designed. He watched her as she crossed the deck toward their cabin, his hand running through his hair.
“Where is my daughter?” her mother cried from the dock.
“Her majesty, the Queen has boarded the Appearing in Truth, my lady,” Siese said.
“I must see her at once!”
Tiy sighed and abandoned her exploration for the moment. “Mother, I am here.”
Her mother wrung a piece of linen in her hands. “They tell me the Appearing in Truth is not stopping in Akhmim.”
“That is right,” Tiy said. “Pharaoh must be the first to arrive in Nubia. He can’t stop in Akhmim. The Star in Memphis will escort you home.”
Her mother’s gaze flitted to the Appearing in Truth. “I thought you weren’t going the entire way. I thought you were stopping in Dakka?” Her voice rose in pitch and warbled a little.
“We have scheduled a stop in Dakka for provisions,” Amenhotep said. “She will go ashore at that point and stay far from any battles.”
Her mother nodded, but the linen in her hands received a fresh wave of torment. “My only daughter is going to war and I have to say good bye here? Now?”
Tiy shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Was her mother serious? Was she really creating a scene with the entire Egyptian fleet standing watch? Her mother was usually so careful about the public’s perception of her.
“Mother,” Tiy said, stilling her mother’s wringing hands with her own. “You know I will be fine. The gods will protect us. Ra will look over us.”