“Neti!” Shabaka’s voice finally cut through the haze of her thoughts and the pounding of her heart. She tugged once again against his hold, this time succeeding in pulling her hand free; however, he quickly countered and gripped her shoulders in an attempt to still her.
She glared up at him, ready to lay into him for delaying her departure. “What do you want?” she demanded. “For me to talk to the dead, to make sense of that?” she continued, thrusting her arm in the direction of the grave. “Because I cannot,” she said heatedly, dropping her arm back to her side as she continued. “Trust me, if I could speak to the dead, like many think I do, then I would, because that way I could give you all the answers you desire and finally leave here.”
Shabaka’s hold on her shoulders tightened as he visibly swallowed, pinching his lips for a moment before responding, “What is the matter, Neti?”
Everything, Neti wanted to scream. Ever since her arrival in the new capital, it had felt like an overbearing weight had settled on her shoulders. The vizier’s death and everyone challenging her findings. Then, when her findings had been confirmed, she had only been confronted with more complex situations. Everyone seemed to want answers while the bodies were massing around her. Whereas in the past the bodies she had come into contact with had needed processing for the afterlife, these bodies only brought questions, they did not provide the answers Shabaka had come to expect from her.
The bodies hounded her sleeping hours, the unanswered questions churning in her head as she tried to make sense of it all. It made her wonder whether there was not something she had missed, something she should have seen, something that could help them in some way. She knew that this time she did not have the answers.
“Is it the body?” Shabaka chanced to ask, looking intently at her.
Neti resignedly shook her head in reply, not knowing how she could make him understand, how she could possibly explain to him her thoughts and doubts.
“Then what is it?” he asked, and she could hear the concern in his voice.
She lifted her hands up in a defensive matter, then held them in midair, tempted to push them against his chest to get him to back away from her, to give her the space she needed to think, to collect her thoughts, but finally she shook her head. “I cannot do this.” She tried to step back from him, but his grasp on her shoulders tightened, preventing her escape. It sent her heart racing anew, for she suddenly felt trapped, when all she needed was her space.
“I don’t understand. Why can’t you do this? You have done it many times before.”
Neti looked at him in disbelief, feeling her anger mounting. She took a deep breath, trying to still her heart and push aside the heat that radiated from his touch. She knew he would not understand, for few would understand the predicament she found herself in. She replied, “I can’t help you with that body because… I don’t know.” In an attempt to explain, she waved her hand about.
She watched as a frown formed on Shabaka’s forehead, and she knew he did not understand what she meant. “What do you mean you can’t help me with the body?” Shabaka’s apprehensive question came out, shaking his head, possibly in disbelief.
Neti released a frustrated sigh, dropping her hands next to her sides, her shoulders following the downward motion, before replying, “I am used to desert conditions. I understand bodies under those circumstances. This,” Neti lifted her hands to indicate the area where they stood, “is a firth. The soil is moist because the becks constantly provide water. Bodies buried here do not dry out as those in the desert do—they rot. In the desert, even bodies placed in shallow graves feed the desert their moisture and are thereby preserved.” She looked at him and saw that he still did not understand her justification. She took another deep breath. “I cannot tell you how long she has been there.” Neti pointed once again at the grave. “I do not understand the processes the body goes through here; they differ from those in the desert. Here, the body’s essence remains trapped inside it, whereas in the desert it is released, returned to the earth. There are differences in this body that I do not understand, because I have never needed to study a rotting body.”
Shabaka finally nodded in understanding, his hands playing slightly along on her shoulders before tightening again, almost as if he was unwilling to let her go. “But that is not all,” he quickly countered.
Neti fought to contain the sigh that wanted to escape her lips and visibly swallowed before replying, “She was our main suspect regarding the vizier. For all I know, she could have been murdered long before him. That means we have not only another body and another death we need to find answers for, but also that we have nothing new that can help us with the others.”
Neti watched as the lines between Shabaka’s eyes deepened and realized that he did not understand what that meant to her. “At this rate we will never return to Thebes.” Only once the words had slipped out did she realize she had implied that they would be returning to Thebes together. She quickly chided herself for the slip of the tongue, but quickly added, “I don’t have all the answers. I wish I did.”
Shabaka looked at her for a moment as if confused before replying, “No one expects you to have all the answers.” His voice gave indication enough that his thoughts were not with his reply but somewhere else entirely. The next moment, he looked at her, his head tilting slightly as he asked, “You want to go home?”
Neti just nodded in response.
Shabaka looked about for a moment before confusedly asking, “Even with Neferronpet’s attentions?”
Neti felt a frown form on her forehead before she turned to look at the group of men gathered a few cubits away from them. She recognized Neferronpet’s intent gaze, along with some of the others’. It was only once she returned her gaze to Shabaka that she realized how close they were standing and how it could be construed. “It is nothing that will last,” Neti finally replied. “He is only interested because I appear different from the others.”
Shabaka just shook his head in reply. “I am not going to comment,” he said finally, stepping back and allowing his hands to drop off of her shoulders.
“You think he is serious?” Neti was quick to question, her heart pounding in her chest.
“He would be a fool…” Shabaka started to reply, only to halt when her gaze narrowed. “That is all I’m saying.”
Neti just shook her head in response.
Shabaka lifted his hand and placed it on her shoulder. “Just remember that it took me two seasons before I could make any sense of the gem situation in Thebes, and were it not for your insights I would still be no closer to finding those responsible.”
Neti took a deep breath before replying, “I have no wish to be here for two seasons; this is not what I came for. I have matters to see to in Thebes. I cannot put my life on hold indefinitely.”
“Whoever is responsible will soon make mistakes, and we will find him,” Shabaka reasoned calmly.
“Until then, do we just allow the bodies to pile up? We have nowhere to start looking for answers; even the weapons that were confiscated do not match any of the healer’s wounds.”
Shabaka took a deep breath before soothingly replying, “We have that scorpion match Moses and I are going to this evening; that could turn something up.”
A long sigh came from Neti, her shoulders slumping. “I just don’t know if it will lead to anything.”
“It is what we have to go on, and if nothing comes from it, at least it is a question that has been answered,” Shabaka replied calmly. “I think you need some time to yourself. I will tend to matters here.”
Neti pursed her lips and took in a deep breath, then turned her head to look at the group of men gathered near the shallow grave, once again noticing how Neferronpet was looking at her questioningly, possibly even angrier at her than he had been moments before. It was only when she shifted slightly that she realized Shabaka’s hand was still resting on her shoulder. “I could use some time to think things over. Besides, I have t
o see to the queen,” she said, using one hand to reach up to his hand still resting on her shoulder, drawing it from it before looking at him and smiling wanly.
“What would you like to do with the body?” Shabaka asked, indicating the shallow grave with a nod of his head.
Neti dropped her gaze to the ground before replying, “Have one of the per nefers see to her, if possible the same one that did the healer’s body. He will understand the conditions better than I do.” She looked up at him. “Tell him I will come speak with him in the morning after he has cleaned the body. You should also question the treasurer’s assistant; he was quick to identify her. I think he could help us determine when she was murdered.”
“You don’t think it is him?”
Neti thought about it for a moment and then shook her head. “No, he did not seem nervous when they dug her up. He seemed genuinely shocked when he recognized the amulet.”
“What was on the amulet? I did not recognize the inscription.”
“It read, ‘my heart,’” Neti replied softly.
“So it was not part of the curse?”
“No, it may have been a gift.”
“What do we tell them about the curse?” Shabaka asked, indicating the group of men gathered around the grave.
Neti stood for a while and thought about it, not wanting to anger the gods but also not wanting those in the palace to fear unfair retribution. However, she could not recall the provisions and restrictions of the ritual. It had been something her father had once told her about when she was but a young girl. She could not even remember if there was a release prayer in the book of death. “Let them think that whoever killed her will face retribution from the dead, along with those who know anything about it,” she finally replied.
“And you believe this?” Shabaka asked doubtfully.
Neti almost glared at him and found it difficult to believe that he would ask such a thing, especially since he knew she prepared the bodies of the dead for the afterlife. “The desecration of a body means that one’s ba cannot return to visit it after its celestial trip because it will not recognize the body. Therefore, one’s ba knows no rest during the daytime; it wanders about seeking its resting place and becomes angered. Once angered, it will seek to condemn those who showed it such disrespect. Even the best of prayers will not calm it,” she sharply retorted.
“I see,” Shabaka replied, nodding and stepping back from her. “I will let you know if I discover anything.”
Running along the paved road as quickly as he could, an official messenger was making his way to the dockside. The sun was lowering in the sky, and he was uncertain whether or not he would find the person to whom he was to deliver a message. However, it was not his duty to question the destination of a message, only to convey it.
He entered a small building near the dockside, and almost on entry was gripped by his clothes and brought to a halt.
“Where do you think you’re going?” a dark-skinned man asked, pushing him against the wall.
The messenger’s heart pounded as he looked up at the burly man. He was about to speak when another spoke up. “Better question him about what he is carrying. If my ears do not deceive me, there is a jangle of coins.”
“You’d better have a good reason for being here,” the first spoke. “Anyone with a scant of whit knows to stay well away from here.”
“I carry a message for Ghazeb,” the messenger finally managed to get out.
“Do you now? And just what would that be?” the dark-skinned man almost growled. However, he immediately stood back when another spoke up in a calm, authoritative tone. “The kind that pays, so step back, Vadahar.”
An average-looking man came into view and dismissed the burly dark-skinned man. His white toga was of the kind of fabric seen only on the pharaoh and the queen, and the man spoke in an authoritative tone as he addressed the messenger. “Forgive him his gruff manner; we have had some problems with bandits lately, and he serves to scare them off. Now what is this message from the palace that you convey?”
“Are you Ghazeb?” the messenger questioned wearily.
“Do you see any others here dressed as I? Or anyone else who would have business with the palace?” the man calmly questioned in return, indicating the others in the room.
The messenger looked around him and shook his head as he withdrew a leather purse from his clothing and handed it over to the man, who took it and checked its contents before demanding, “Where is the scroll?”
The messenger reached into his satchel and extracted the scroll, handing it over to the man, who once again took it, looking it over before breaking the seal. He read the contents before nodding and looking at the messenger. “You can tell him that the matter will be tended to accordingly.”
9
NETI STEPPED OUT FROM THE KITCHENS, having just returned the queen’s tray, and was about to go and prepare for her evening with Neferronpet when the queen’s chambermaid came to call on her. She felt her heart drop, having recognized the girl’s urgency and the look of concern on her face, and without hesitation she followed the young woman down the passage.
They hustled past the queen’s chambers and Neti halted for a moment to look at the door, causing the servant to look back at her, urging her to follow. A sense of trepidation came over her as they approached one of the great halls.
The servant girl halted in the doorway and indicated inside, where Neti saw Maathorneferure moving slowly along the wall, looking over the hieroglyphs.
Neti approached the queen, noticing that one of the palace guards had remained close by. “My queen,” she started, drawing Maathorneferure’s attention, “you should be in your room, resting.”
Maathorneferure looked at her for a moment before returning her gaze to the wall. “The confines of my room serve only to irritate me. I have never found any solace in being isolated; besides, there is little comfort there.”
Neti was about to reply when the queen spoke again. “Take a walk with me. I think some exercise would do me good.”
Neti was uncertain at first and glanced about the room, but judging from the queen’s stride it was most likely to be nothing more than a mere stroll.
“Relax, child, I’m not going to walk the entirety of the palace. I simply needed to get out of my room,” the queen replied, moving farther along the wall.
“My queen, you should have instead taken a turn in the harem’s gardens; they are cooler and much more calming at this time of the evening.”
“I have no need for solace, my child, I only need some movement and some company. I feel as if I have been excluded from civilization these past few days,” Maathorneferure calmly replied before looking at Neti and asking, “You can read?”
Neti nodded in reply and moved closer to the queen’s side, glancing up at the wall before them and replying, “I have read the tales on some of the palace’s walls.”
“They are better when you actually have someone with you who has been there,” the queen professed, moments before a loud ruckus at the doorway drew their attention.
Ramesses, along with a number of the palace guards and Shabaka, came striding into the hall, only to come to an immediate standstill on noticing the queen and her companion. The pharaoh was visibly relieved and quickly dismissed the guards, having them close the doors on their exit, before approaching them with Shabaka at his side.
“My love, you seem much improved,” he said while approaching them, but his voice conveyed his doubts.
“I am well enough to walk,” Maathorneferure quickly replied. “There is no need to summon a chariot.”
“A chariot?” Neti questioned in astonishment, looking between the pharaoh and his wife as he and Shabaka stood with them.
“I should tell you of all the rumpus your ruler has gotten up to in his time,” Maathorneferure impishly replied and then turned to look at the wall, not concerning herself with the warning glare her husband gave her.
“Had you been here five yea
rs ago, Neti, you would have found more artists than palace guards in these grounds. The last of these works was only recently completed,” Maathorneferure said, indicating the wall before her.
“We have similar drawings in the Karnak temples just outside Thebes,” Neti replied, glancing up at the scenes before her. “This one is the legend of the Light God, and that one over there tells of the great battle of Kadesh and Ramesses’ great victory against the Hittites.”
“Victory!” Maathorneferure scoffed. “What victory? I should tell you what really happened there, for this man barely escaped total defeat,” she concluded, pointing at Ramesses. “The only thing victorious that day was common sense and the realization that a peace treaty would serve them better than a battle to the death.”
The Pharaoh coughed awkwardly. “Well, it wasn’t quite like that,” he said.
“Oh, no? And may I remind you that it was only by sheer luck that you returned home from that battle with a new wife?”
The Pharaoh gestured, dismayed. “And what should I have had inscribed on the walls instead, may I ask?” he said, turning to look at the inscriptions of Kadesh. “A tie hardly behooves an epic wall painting. Besides, my messengers and ambassadors assured me, quite credibly, that your father has similar drawings of this battle on his wall that celebrate him as the glorified victor.”
Princess of Egypt - A Mystery in Ancient Egypt Page 8