by Tom Holland
The nurses came to her some time later, nervously, afraid of being glimpsed by the Princesses, and they bore her to a bed which they had prepared for her in her chamber. Tyi did not even speak to thank them, but lay in silence gazing at the wall. Only with the coming of night, when everyone else in the Harim was asleep, did she rise at last and cross to the balcony, to gaze in the direction of her favourite lake; but a wall blocked her view, and so she soon turned away Very carefully she treated her wounds; then she dressed and adorned herself with all the skill that she could muster. For hours she sat in the light of the moon, braiding her hair, until at last dawn rose and she laid her mirror down.
As she did so, she saw behind her the silhouette of a man. ‘Who is that?’ she cried out, alarmed; then she smiled with mingled astonishment and relief. ‘Inen! Is it you? But what are you doing here?’
‘Why, what do you think? I have missed my little sister.’
‘But it is forbidden at this hour,’ she whispered in sudden panic.
‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘Nothing is forbidden to me any more.’ And so saying he stepped forward, and Tyi saw that his head had been shaven bald and around his neck there now hung the symbol of Amen. He fingered it and smiled. ‘With this I have the power of a hundred Pharaohs.’
Tyi gazed at him, appalled. ‘But . . . no . . . how could you?’ She shook her head. ‘Our father . . .’
‘Was afraid to seize the chance which I have taken.’
‘What chance? O my brother, what are you talking about?’
‘Our father knew -- for I once heard him told -- of the mysteries hidden within the temple of Amen. He was afraid, though, to pull back the veil which concealed them. But I, as you can see’ - he touched his shaven scalp -- ‘have not been such a coward. And, O my sister, O my sister -- what mysteries they are!’
Tyi gazed at him wide-eyed. ‘Why,’ she whispered eagerly, ‘what have you found?’
‘You think I would tell you that?’
‘Why not?’
Inen smiled. ‘Because they are secrets which come from before the dawn of time, written within the sacred books of instruction, guarded by only a handful of priests, and revealing the wonders of the very gods themselves - all good reasons not to tell you a thing.’
Tyi turned and sniffed, to disguise her disappointment. ‘Why mention them at all, then?’
‘To impress you, no other reason.’ Inen smiled again, then reached out to take his sister in his arms. As he did so, however, she flinched and shrank away, and Inen looked down in surprise. ‘What is it?’ he asked; and then he saw the marks of the whip across her arms.
Tyi would not tell him what had happened at first, and instead tried to rise and run away, but then suddenly, with heaving, panting sobs, the whole story flooded out. Inen listened in silence, then drew out a tiny flask from his belt. ‘It may be,’ he whispered, cradling Tyi in his arms, ‘that I can show you something at least of my powers.’ And so saying, he reached for a piece of cloth and dampened it with a liquid, thick and black, which he poured from the flask. He applied it to the wounds upon his sister’s arms, and at once she felt the pain fade, and when she looked the scars were gone. ‘O Inen,’ she cried, ‘that is sorcery indeed! What secrets, what magic, could achieve such a wonder?’
But Inen only smiled and raised a finger to his mouth, then unfastened her robes and inspected the wounds upon her back. Again, he applied the liquid to the welts, and again Tyi felt the pain immediately fade away. ‘And the scars,’ she asked him, ‘are the scars all gone as well?’
‘There is not a single marking left.’
Tyi nodded with a fierce satisfaction, and at once reached down for her robes and her finery. Inen frowned, though, as he watched her dress herself again. ‘Would you gild the dawn?’ he muttered. ‘You are already quite beautiful enough for such an hour.’
But Tyi shook her head. ‘Pharaoh,’ she whispered. ‘I must -- I will -- have Pharaoh.’
Inen’s frown deepened. ‘But did you not hear what the Great Queen said? Only a Princess of the blood may marry him.’
‘That was a lie, surely?’
‘No.’ He rose to his feet, to take his sister in his arms. ‘No, it was not.’
‘By whose determining?’
‘By the determining of the ancient wisdom of Amen.’ Tyi gazed at her brother a moment in disbelief, then shook her head wildly. ‘I cannot believe you!’
‘And yet -- I am sorry -- it is the infallible truth.’
‘Infallible?’
‘As it has been since the time of the very first Pharaoh.’
Tyi raised her hand-mirror and adjusted a tress. ‘Then we shall see,’ she said. She pursed her lips, and coloured them again. ‘For an unchanging custom may still be brought to change.’ And then she turned and hurried from the chamber, nor would she stop to hear Inen’s cries of protest. Instead she climbed to the highest roof of the Harim, and she sat there a long while, gazing down at her lions where they lay amidst the early-morning cool of the trees. In due course, it happened that King Amen-hetep emerged into the courtyard below and, glancing upwards, he saw where Tyi sat, and he felt his desire rise up in him again, for he thought he had never seen such beauty before -- not in the stars, nor in the sun, nor in any of the works of the heavens or the earth. So he paused in his business and climbed at once to Tyi, and he took her in his arms and sought to kiss her. But Tyi turned away, and would not meet his lips until he had promised her faithfully that she would be his Great Queen. Then she kissed him very softly, and at once broke away and ran down the steps. And King Amen-hetep was left alone.
The following morning, when he emerged into the courtyard, he looked up again and saw Tyi in all her beauty, and again he felt overwhelmed by his love for her, and by an uncontrollable desire. As before, however, having climbed to the roof and sought to take her in his arms, Tyi would not meet his lips, but instead looked away and reminded him of his promise.
King Amen-hetep shuddered with desire. ‘I am the Lord of the Two Lands!’ he cried out in sudden fury. ‘I can do with you what I please!’
‘Yet I would rather hurl myself from this roof,’ Tyi answered, ‘than serve as your whore.’
‘You cannot be my Queen.’
‘Why not?’
‘It is forbidden by the priests of the temple of Amen.’
‘And yet you said it yourself, you are the Lord of the Two Lands -- or is the High Priest of Amen the true King of Egypt?’
King Amen-hetep clenched his fists. ‘Very well,’ he nodded curtly. ‘It shall all be arranged.’ And so saying, he reached out to seize her again, but again she stepped away. ‘It must be proclaimed in every corner of the land,’ she insisted, ‘so that there can be no doubt.’ And then she kissed him lightly, and turned and skipped away.
The next morning, so sleepless had King Amen-hetep’s night been that he rose before dawn, and seated himself in Tyi’s favourite spot, on the roof above the Harim, overlooking the garden. When Tyi emerged there, King Amen-hetep thought again that she was lovelier than the sun, even as it rose from the east behind her head, lighting her hair with a halo of gold. He felt a chill of fire flicker up and down his spine, like the breath of a goddess, as Tyi smiled at him and then lowered her black eyes in mockery.
‘Do not be coy with me,’ he bellowed, rising to his feet.
At once he felt the breath of the goddess in his stomach, and he almost groaned with the agony. ‘O Tyi, O Tyi . . .’ He paused, for he had never before sought to put words to his love, never before having known what love might be. He stood, feeling stupid, as Tyi began to laugh; then he lumbered forward suddenly and seized her slim wrist. He sought to smother her with his bulk, pin her to the roof, but as before she wriggled and slithered from his grasp.
This time, when she met his stare, she did not look down. ‘Have you done as you promised?’ she asked him. Am I to be your Queen?’
King Amen-hetep breathed in deeply.
‘Am I t
o be your Queen?’
The King breathed in again. ‘You do not understand.’
‘Oh yes.’ Tyi hissed the words violently as she began to back away. ‘I understand all too well.’
‘No.’ King Amen-hetep gestured helplessly. ‘There is nothing I can do -- not without a sign of permission from the gods.’ He watched the glittering of contempt in Tyi’s eyes, and felt his cheeks start to burn, as though the goddess had begun suddenly to breathe on them with fire. At the same moment all his rage and frustration boiled up inside him, and he could no longer bear not to have Tyi in his arms. ‘It is no matter,’ he cried, lunging forward again and seizing her by the hair. ‘I am Pharaoh still, and may do as I please.’
She screamed, and twisted as hard as she could, but King Amen-hetep seized her arms and she could not escape. Then she felt him reaching for her legs and she at once fell backwards, away from his grip, so that she stood on the edge of the roof above the garden. When she glanced down at the courtyard she saw there was a crowd of people gathered there, gazing up at Pharaoh and herself, summoned no doubt by the sound of her cries. Then she turned round further, to look down into the garden. She could see the topmost leaves of the tallest trees, a long way below her. By a fountain, a lion was inspecting her lazily.
Ponderously, King Amen-hetep lunged forward once more and seized her by her ankle.
‘Shall I be your Queen?’ Tyi cried out.
But King Amen-hetep was shuddering now, so that all his flesh was quivering and rolling, and he did not seem to hear her. He began to pull on her leg, reaching upwards with his hands again, and Tyi closed her eyes, feeling the Harim roof beneath her -- how solid it was, how firm the stonework. Then she squirmed and twisted backwards - and suddenly she could no longer feel the Harim roof at all. Dimly she heard Pharaoh bellow with mingled horror and frustration, but the sound was already fading, lost upon the air as it rushed past her ears, and Tyi smiled, just for a moment, to think that she was free. Then she felt herself bounce against the side of something rough, and smelt the aroma of rare, precious leaves, and she knew that she must have hit the branch of some tree. But it seemed barely to break her fall, for she could still hear the whistling of air in her ears, and then all at once she smelt the perfume of flowers, and the dampness of soil, and then she cried out, as she felt her skull seem to melt.
The agony was a searing explosion of red light. Yet although the impact seemed to have crumpled her whole body, for she could feel her limbs twisted in peculiar ways, one single thought still remained with her, an island preserved above the tempest of her pain: ‘I am alive.’ The idea baffled her; and yet it was true. ‘I am alive.’
For a long while she did not attempt to move, merely felt the heat of the sun against her face, smelt the leaves of the acacia and tamarisk trees, heard the songs of the birds amidst the bushes of the garden. How many hours passed she could not tell, since she never once opened her eyes; but at length she could sense that the evening was approaching, for she could no longer feel the sun against her cheeks. But she was still, to her surprise, as warm as before, so that she imagined that something might be lying down beside her, until at last she stirred and found that something was.
She sat up at once. The pain, though great, was not unbearable -- and yet she was certain she had felt her skull cave in. She reached up to touch her head. There seemed no trace of a wound. How was it possible? Why was she not dead? She opened her eyes. Two lions lay stretched out on either side of her, while the third lay half-curled in a ball by her feet. Tyi almost laughed, watching the lions start to stir, to think that she had survived her fall only to be eaten by wild beasts -- but then the lions began to nuzzle her and to lick her wounds, as though she were not a girl at all but a lion like themselves. Their tongues felt very coarse against her battered limbs, but even as they licked her she felt the pain begin to fade. At last she felt able to rise to her feet, and the lions at once began to stretch playfully and roll upon their backs, and when Tyi stooped to tickle them they curled against her legs. Even when she began to walk towards the garden gates, they continued to play, padding around her like overgrown kittens. She paused by the gates, then unlocked the bolt and set the lions free. But they continued to follow her as she crossed the deserted courtyard and beyond the Harim, into a quarter of the Palace where she had never been before. Yet she remembered the descriptions of its layout which Ay had once given her, and so she knew where Pharaoh was most likely to be found. She passed through one archway, and then a second, where a couple of guards attempted to stop her. But then they looked her in the face, and then glanced down at the lions, and they stammered something and stepped aside in fear.
Beyond the archway there stretched further gardens. At first sight they appeared empty, but then, when Tyi stood still, she could hear the sound of two distant voices engaged, so it seemed, in a heated conversation. She began to walk towards them, her lions still padding silently behind her, until, by a pool lit a rippled silver by the moon, she paused, and listened to the voices again.
She could recognise her father’s now. It was very low, and seemed tense with a barely controlled anger. ‘I tell you,’ she heard him say, ‘she cannot be dead. It is impossible. Therefore I ask you again, O Pharaoh, where did she fall from? Where can she be found? I must go to her.’
‘She is dead.’ King Amen-hetep paused. ‘I saw it. And so it has been, O Yuya, all this day, that I have been unable to go to her and gaze upon her face. It is strange.’ He paused again. ‘It has not been my habit to shrink from seeing death.’
‘If you look in her face, I promise you, you will find she is still very much alive. For Tyi has been guarded by mystery since the day of her birth.’ And with such certainty did her father say this, and with such impatience, that Tyi suddenly wondered with a chill shock what it was her father knew. ‘I say again, O Pharaoh -- my daughter is alive.’
But King Amen-hetep laughed wildly. ‘If only she were!’
‘Yes? And what then?’
Why, then I would have my blessing from the gods! Then I could have her as my Queen after all!’
Listening, Tyi smiled slowly to herself, then glanced down for the first time at her reflection in the pool. Her face and limbs appeared cruelly battered, and her long hair was matted and tangled with blood. But with her lions ranged about her, she appeared almost like a goddess, and the moon upon the water crowned her head with silver.
She smiled again, then turned and continued along the path. As she approached them, both her father and King Amen-hetep fell silent. Her father’s face appeared frozen, almost appalled, but then suddenly he smiled and took her in his arms. She winced, and laughed, and then winced again, breaking free from his hold, so that she found herself staring into King Amen-hetep s eyes, which were wide with disbelief. ‘But . . . no . . .’ he stammered, ‘I saw you . . . you were dead . . .’
‘Did you not demand,’ Tyi answered him, ‘a sign from the gods?’
‘Yes.’ King Amen-hetep swallowed, then nodded violently. ‘Yes - yes I did.’
He reached for her and Tyi, despite the pain from her wounds, allowed herself to be clasped, allowed her lips to be kissed, allowed herself to smile with the pleasure of her conquest; for she knew, as she watched him and met his stare, that she had won. And so indeed it proved, for her new status was proclaimed that same evening through the Palace, and all who saw her wondered to find her still alive, so that it was rumoured that she was indeed a true heiress of the gods. Amidst the general consternation and the fever of gossip, no one paused to wonder at her blood-line, and to think that she was not a sister of Pharaoh; for it was repeated only how she had been brought back from the dead to be Great Queen.
But Tyi, even in the first thrill and excitement of her triumph, did not forget that there was still one final obstacle to cross. Nor was she surprised, the following morning, as she walked through the Palace surveying her new domain, to be informed by a servant that a priest of Amen wished to see her. She tu
rned and saw, waiting for her by the entrance to the gardens, her brother Inen, his expression very grim. He waited for her to join him, then they walked together alone through the trees.
‘I believe,’ said Inen at last, bringing out something from under his cloak, ‘that you will be requiring this.’
He handed her a flask, and Tyi smiled as she inspected the black, sticky liquid, then dabbed a touch upon a scar across her arm. She stared in fascination as the wound began to fade. ‘It is truly,’ she whispered, ‘the most extraordinary magic’
‘Yes.’ Inen frowned. ‘And dangerous as well, for those who do not understand with what it is that they are dealing.’
Tyi looked up in surprise. Her brother’s face was even grimmer and more set than before. ‘What do you mean?’ she asked. ‘Are you going to try to forbid my marriage to Pharaoh?’
‘I cannot. The gods have spoken. They have brought you back from the very jaws of death, and so have marked you out as a worthy Queen.’
Tyi smiled. ‘Then it seems that the gods have changed their minds.’
Yes.’ His frown deepened, and he looked away.
Tyi hurried to keep abreast with him as he continued to stride ahead. ‘Inen,’ she asked, reaching out to touch his hand, ‘what is it? What do you know?’
He glanced at her impatiently, then suddenly his face seemed to crumple and he seized her hand. ‘I wish . . .’ he whispered. He shook his head, then kissed her fingertips. ‘I wish,’ he said again, ‘I wish that things were different.’