With that, they parted, and Neti prepared for her visit to the house of life. Her thoughts were still jumbled up in her mind. Though somewhat at ease regarding Neferronpet, she was still not completely at ease about what she was going to do when she left the palace.
The guard appointed to her followed a few steps behind, allowing her to mull over her thoughts.
12
THE SUN WAS BRIGHT and warmed Neti’s skin as she walked along the paved road. She watched as women passed her in their white dress slips, the fabric as fine as her own, yet she found herself longing for the familiarity of her home, for being allowed to go down to the river to bathe or just to talk to Suten-Anu.
In Pi-Ramesses, children were clothed from an earlier age, whereas in Thebes it was still common to see youngsters running about with nothing on; she herself had grown up so. Here, the children were supposed to walk calmly, there were no ball games in the streets or young boys sparring with sticks. It was odd and only accentuated the foreignness of her surroundings.
The palace guard guided her in the right direction without needing to exchange a single word. He waited patiently while she took in her surroundings. The mud walls were a different shade than the red-tinged ones in Thebes.
She stepped into the main room at the house of life and saw Shabaka’s healer draw himself up to his full height, nearly a full cubit taller than her.
“Good morning. I have come to see Shabaka,” she said firmly.
The tall man shook his head as he firmly replied, “He is not receiving any visitors.”
“I need to speak with him,” Neti insisted, her heart pounding. She did not want to argue with the man but desperately needed to reassure herself that Shabaka was out of any immediate danger.
“He has insisted upon it. He has no desire to meet with anyone, and I do not want him stressed.”
Neti felt her heart drop and her shoulders sagged.
Just then, the palace guard stepped forward and addressed the healer. “She is here under instruction of the pharaoh and is to speak with him regarding his injuries.”
The healer looked from Neti to the guard, then back to Neti before finally nodding in agreement. “He’s this way.”
Neti turned to look at the guard and smiled shyly in gratitude.
The guard smiled in return before whispering, “I did that once to see my brother; they will not defy the pharaoh’s wishes.”
“You could get into trouble for that,” Neti cautioned.
“Go and see him, trouble will take care of itself.” The guard hastened her on when the healer turned to look at her questioningly. “They won’t question it, and if they do, I’ll take care of it.”
Neti nodded and stepped forward to follow the healer down the dimly lit passage. The healer halted before a curtain and then turned to look at her before reaching out and sweeping the curtain aside.
“I’ll give you some time, but do not stress him,” the healer said, indicating for her to enter.
Neti stepped into the dimly lit room, the strong smell of incense burning her nose as she looked about for its source. Her gaze landed on Shabaka and she gasped, stepping back a pace as she took in his prone form. Uncertain whether he was awake, she moved closer carefully and took stock of his visible injuries. His eyes were closed, and one was badly swollen. She was not even certain whether or not he would be able to open it. She fought her instinctive desire to reach out to him and instead continued her perusal of his visible injuries. His lip was split and badly swollen. The darker markings under his skin evidenced the deep bruising, and the swelling on his cheek looked ominous. She had seen many injuries when she had tended to Thoth, but even at his worst, nothing resembled the deep bruises she saw on Shabaka. Thoth’s injuries had been superficial, mostly cuts from the whip or bruising from a kick. She knew it would be a while before Shabaka could move about freely again.
As if sensing her presence, Shabaka’s eyes opened. She could just make out the warm brown color of the good eye, the other remaining shut as he shifted on the bed.
He looked at her for some time before blinking and harshly, hoarsely demanding, “What are you doing here?” immediately followed by a sharp hiss along with a slight shift under the sheet as he pinched his eyes.
Neti fought her desire to touch him, knowing that in all likelihood she would only exacerbate matters, and uncertainly replied, “I came to see you.”
“I told them I don’t want to see anyone, especially you,” he seethed, hissing as he shifted, his sheet slipping partially and revealing his bruised chest.
Neti stepped back as if his words had physically struck her, and she could feel the agitation rise in her as she flung back, “Why not?”
“Because you have other, more important things to concern yourself with. I don’t need your pity, I’m a grown man.”
Neti looked at him, anger, disbelief, and agitation coursing through her simultaneously. She settled on the easiest defense, anger, and flung back, “And why should I feel pity for you, you obviously don’t need my concern. And here I came to see how you were doing, only to be told my concern was not needed.”
She stepped closer to him, anger and hurt fueling her every word, “Right now, the pharaoh is gathering up all the men on the docks and at the beer house, trying to find out who did this to you. I spent most of last night here waiting for word on your condition, and all you can say is ‘It’s not needed.’ What gives you the right?”
Shabaka drew back on his bed, hissing at the movement, and for a moment Neti felt dreadful, even remorseful for her words, but she did not back down. “Ramesses sent me to ask you whether you remember anything of last night, anything that could be important when questioning the men later today.” It was only once the words were out that she realized how it sounded, that he would think she was duty bound to see him.
Instead, he shifted again, this time visibly gripping his ribs, hissing as he instantly, heatedly decreed, “Stay away from the men.”
Neti looked at him and stepped forward, gripping the sheet that had slipped again, and saw his eyes widen, confirming her suspicion that he was naked beneath it. She pulled it back in place, noticing his stiffened body as she settled the sheet over him.
“I want to know who wanted you killed. Even the pharaoh is concerned about it,” she replied softly before sitting on the bed next to him, her heart pounding in her chest as she gave in to her need to touch him. Her hand rested over his heart, its steady pounding all the verification she needed that he would recover. “Do you remember anything about last night?” she asked.
Shabaka looked at her for a few moments and then closed his eyes and relaxed under her touch. Grunting, he shook his head in response. “I can’t remember anything other than a group of men surrounding me and Moses.” At the mention of the young Hebrew’s name, his entire body stiffened. “By Ra! Moses! I have not even thought about him,” he said, and then hissed.
Neti pressed on his chest. “Relax, Shabaka. He returned to the palace with me last night. His injuries are not as severe as yours.”
“Good,” Shabaka sighed in relief, relaxing again under her touch before his good eye suddenly shot open. “You were here last night? I thought you were…”
“They came to get me,” Neti replied, her fingers shifting on the sheet for a moment before she could stop them. She quickly withdrew her hand when she realized what she was doing.
“I see,” he replied, his good eye once again closing.
He remained silent for some time, and Neti left him to his thoughts while she soaked up his presence. Up until then, all of their interactions, other than the dinner at her home, had been out of necessity. Even during the trip to Pi-Ramesses it had felt like their interaction was determined by need rather than a desire for them to spend time together. She wondered whether it was this that had resulted in her attraction to him, that he needed her help, and whether it it was the only reason for their attraction.
“It’s all still blurry,”
Shabaka started, drawing her from her ruminations. “I remember us arriving at the beer house and speaking with Ghalil.”
“Who’s Ghalil?” Neti questioned.
“He owns some scorpions; one of them won a fight,” Shabaka replied, moving his head to look at her. “I implied that I was interested in purchasing some scorpions on behalf of the palace.”
“Why would you do that?” Neti asked, confused.
“He asked where the other man from the palace was, so I just…” his voice trailed off. “I got the impression that the palace had commissioned scorpions in the past.” He shook his head, wincing. “I was going to ask Ramesses whether he knew anything of such an arrangement, who procures these scorpions and for what reason.”
Neti nodded. “That would give us somewhere to start. I’ll ask him when I get back to the palace.”
Shabaka inclined his head but hissed and then halted the action. He closed his eye as he continued. “We were going to meet outside; he did not want to discuss the matter in the beer house.”
“And you were not concerned?”
“There are guards stationed at the quay, so it did not concern me at first. It was only when I realized that something was amiss that I became concerned.”
“That’s when you were attacked?”
“There was a group of them, about seven or eight. One had a menacing tone, but I did not see their faces. They were all competent fighters. One was large, possibly Nubian.” His eye opened again. “They must also bring in the merchant we went to see. He was there and knows most of the scorpion owners.”
“I will ask the guards to fetch him as well, along with anyone who was at the beer house last night. Someone must have seen something.”
A frown formed on Shabaka’s brow and he looked at her in concern as he asked, “They are gathering up everyone that was there?”
“As many as they can find,” she replied quickly. “Why? Is there someone else I should have them look for?”
“No, it’s just…” He left the remainder unsaid.
“Just what?” she prompted.
He grunted and closed his eye, drawing in a deep breath, groaning, his face contorting, before he replied, “There are things that happen in beer houses,” he finally managed to say, his voice somewhat hesitant.
“I’m familiar with what happens in a beer house,” Neti replied flatly. “Thebes also has beer houses.” Her chest tightened as she considered the possibility that he may have engaged the services of one of the women. He was a man, and she knew it was not uncommon for them to seek such relief. It was just the thought of him and another woman, especially after what she had learned the previous evening. She swallowed with difficulty, a heavy sensation pressing on her chest as she asked, “Is there something I should know?”
His eye shot open again as he shook his head, yelping before he replied, “I didn’t.”
Neti nodded in response and took another deep breath, the weight on her chest lessening somewhat. She cleared her throat before she spoke. “I learned something this morning, but I’m uncertain whether it will be of any use.”
Shabaka was visibly eased by her words. “Tell me.”
“One of the kitchen servants stopped me this morning. She said that Nebty and Khay often argued, or at least she implied it.”
Shabaka remained quiet for some time before asking, “Do you know what they argued about?”
Neti shook her head. “I asked Neferronpet if he knew anything about it.” At the mention of the vizier’s name, Shabaka stiffened. “He only confirmed that there was a problem with her leave and that Khay was going to sort it out when she got back.”
“When did this happen?”
“Just before we arrived.”
Shabaka nodded. “It just confirms that she was not in the palace when Khay was murdered. Did you find out how she died?”
“I still have to speak with the embalmer,” Neti replied, before her thoughts drifted to the events around breakfast. She could feel a frown forming on her brow
“Anything else?” Shabaka asked, drawing her attention back to him.
“I’m not sure,” she replied, lifting her gaze to look at him. She shook her head. “It just seemed strange.”
“What?”
“This morning at breakfast, Homer came to speak with the princess.”
“Why would he do that?”
Neti tilted her head and rose a brow. “They’re…” Neti put her hands together.
Shabaka scowled and his brows rose, the injured one not rising as high. “Are you sure?”
Neti sighed. “I’ve watched them for some time, and neither Maathorneferure nor Ramesses seem perturbed by their interactions.”
“Then why your concern?”
“Something was off. He seemed nervous somehow.”
“You think he could have something to do with this?”
“At first I thought he had come to convey news about you because he appeared concerned, but he said nothing. He actually looked a little concerned when the pharaoh mentioned that we would be leaving for Memphis soon.”
“You’re going to Memphis?”
“We’re going to Memphis,” Neti confirmed, pointing between them. “Ramesses is waiting until you are released from here, and then we are to travel with him and Maathorneferure to Memphis to meet with a delegation of princes.” Neti saw him flinch at the last word, knowing she would not have made anything of it had she not learned his secret from his brother.
“I will have to speak to the healer. I cannot detain Ramesses. You can tell Ramesses I’ll be ready to leave once the bark is loaded. I’ll try to be there for the questioning.”
Just then, the healer shifted the cloth in the doorway, causing both of them to turn and look at him. “He needs his rest,” the tall man said calmly. Neti nodded and looked at Shabaka before rising and making for the doorway. She stopped to look back at him, her heart pounding in her chest as she spoke. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Tell you what?” he replied, grimacing in pain as he shifted to look at her.
“Prince Shabaka.”
His entire body went rigid before he demanded, “Who told you?”
Neti took a deep breath, hoping to calm her racing heart, as she replied, “Your brother.”
Shabaka dropped his gaze as he spoke. “So you have spoken with my brother?”
“Yes, he was here last night,” she replied, her voice calmer than she felt. She looked at him for a while before asking, “Were you ever going to tell me?”
His gaze lifted and he shrugged his shoulders, wincing, “There never seemed to be an appropriate moment, and I didn’t want you to think or act differently toward me.”
“What do you mean?” she quickly countered, folding her arm in front of her.
“People change when they know,” Shabaka replied indifferently.
“And that is what you thought I’d do?” Neti’s voice took on an annoyed tone.
“I don’t know. I just got tired of women changing their attitude toward me when they learn what I am.”
“I guess that explains why they treated you the way they did on our trip here. I knew something was out of place, I just could not figure out what.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Shabaka concluded. “I am who I am, and if people only see my title I have no interest in engaging with them.”
Neti just looked at him, disbelief clouding her judgment, as she shook her head. “Only you would think that it does not matter,” she said before turning from him and leaving.
13
NETI RETURNED TO THE PALACE, her appointed guard following a few paces behind. Her mind churned over his last words, and she shook her head. She did not spare a glance at the people she was passing, keeping her gaze lowered as she moved along the road; this meant she did not see the child she slammed into a few paces later.
The pot the young child was carrying fell to the ground, shattering into a multitude of shards, its mixed contents spilling
out over the road. Neti pulled the child away from the mess and then saw her eyes distend, and her lip started to quiver moments after. Neti looked over the girl, noting her threadbare clothes, then looked down at the mess on the ground, her heart dropping when the child dropped down to her knees trying to salvage some of what would have been her meal.
Neti reached toward the child, pulling her upright. “Leave it; you will cut yourself,” she said. But it seemed to be to no avail, for the child tugged against her, shaking her roughly shaven head.
The guard stepped closer and picked up the child. The moment his grip tightened around her, she let out a squeal and started kicking and flailing her arms about in an attempt to escape. The guard finally let go, and Neti gripped the girl by the shoulders, lightly shaking her until the girl looked up at her.
“Leave it,” Neti instructed.
The girl shook her head again, hiccupping, “She will be so angry.”
“Who?” Neti asked.
“Dragma. She will whip me,” the girl said, quivering.
Neti looked at the concoction of foodstuffs on the ground and then took a closer look at the girl. “That was your meal?”
The girl’s shoulders drooped, making their bony appearance more pronounced. “I was hoping for the piece of flatbread.”
Neti looked at the mess on the ground, shook her head, and then looked at the guard. “Would the palace replace this?”
The guard looked at the mess on the ground and shrugged his shoulders. “You could ask at the kitchen. I see no reason why the pharaoh would oppose such a request from you.”
Neti turned to look at the girl. “Come, I’ll see what I can arrange for you.”
The girl looked skeptically between Neti and the guard, noticing the guard’s belt and stepping back.
“He won’t hurt you,” Neti soothed. “You can walk next to me.”
The girl looked at the ground again before asking, “You will give me other food?”
Neti nodded. “We will go to the kitchens and see what there is for you.”
Princess of Egypt - A Mystery in Ancient Egypt Page 12