by D. S.
“No,” she said slowly, “you did not.” She glared at him and in that glare hurt turned to hate. “You did not love me.”
XVI
Queen of Egypt, mother of the heir, daughter of slaves, she had achieved and learned much in a few short moons, but it was the babe alone that gave her cause to smile. The infant had come early, a little too early for the gossips liking, but it was strong, it was healthy and it was a boy. She took him to her breast as she relaxed in the Water Gardens. It was the first time since the birth that she’d ventured outside and Gilukhipa had been waiting.
The Princess of Mitanni offered her no smiles. Amenophis had made his decision official at the coronation when he declared that the Beautiful One was to be his first, his queen. Gilukhipa was mentioned only in passing and not even by name. He had referred to her simply as ‘the other one’. She refused to bow or curtsey as she spoke, “So … I suppose I am to grovel like a slave and call you ‘your majesty’ now?”
Tiye smiled at her and shook her head, “I know we’ve had our differences, Gil, but I hope we can put them behind us. I’d like for us to be friends.”
Gilukhipa answered her with a cultured look the highborn saved for their piss pots. All the same, she composed herself enough to take a breath and make some clucking noises over the infant. Tiye smiled appreciatively. “He has his father’s nose don’t you think?”
Gilukhipa leaned in, inspected him closely, then rose to meet the Queen’s eye. “His eyes are blue.”
“As are mine … and my fathers.”
“But not Amenophis’s, nor any of his line,” Gilukhipa said. She shrugged and leaned in again. “So big and healthy,” she smiled, “and you barely eight moons wed.”
“He has greatness in his veins,” Tiye explained cautiously.
Gilukhipa fingered her lip before edging towards the nursing mother’s ear. “You really mean to claim he’s trueborn then? Why half the palace knows you gave your maidenhead to a blue eyed Habiru boy in Heliopolis ‘ere you left. That would be what? Nine moons past?”
Tiye sighed. “My husband always said your tongue is good for naught but discourtesies. It seems he has the right of it.”
Gilukhipa pulled back and offered her queen a look of undisguised hatred. “True enough it lacks the experience of yours. How often did my lady’s tongue seek lessons from Old Amenhotep? How many Habiru mouths has it danced in? Just that boy of rumour or was there more?”
Tiye made an unpleasant face. She’s just a jealous bitch with nothing left to cling to. “Amenophis gives it all the practice it needs. You remember him don’t you? I hear he kissed your cheek just last winter.”
Gilukhipa chewed her lip. “Yes, we all know he tastes you long and often. He must like the savour of his grandfather’s cock.”
The Habiru about them fell silent at that, some sought to make themselves inconspicuous, others suddenly remembered pressing matters further afield. Tiye reddened with mounting anger. I’m his first wife now, his queen. She cannot speak to me as such. She adjusted the babe in her arms, looked at the woman coldly and plunged. “Your conversation is dull and lifeless as your womb. Tell me are all barren women as tiresome as you?” She yawned deliberately loudly, “Small wonder my husband shows you his back. I think it’s best you leave, lest you put me to sleep with your platitudes.” Tiye met the woman’s gaze imperiously and saw something she had not thought to see.
Gilukhipa opened her mouth as if to reply, but the sudden water in her eyes put an end to that. Heatedly she wiped away an unwanted tear and this time curtsied. “As you say … my queen.”
Tiye felt suddenly guilty. “Gil wait, I didn’t mean…”
Gilukhipa paused and spoke softly. “You should not apologise for speaking truth.” She gave Tiye a defeated smile before fumbling for something inside her robes. She withdrew a small lace crest emblazoned with the Uraeus Crown of the Two Lands and the twin rivers of the Empire of Mitanni. It was quite exquisite, all blue and gold. “I made this for him,” she said quietly. “I thought he might … wear it for his coronation but … he would not see me.” She shrugged. “With my grandfather having passed in the winter, Amenophis comes into lordship over all the lands of my forefathers. It was the price of peace with Tuthmosis the Great.” She passed it to the Queen. “Will you … will give it to him?”
Tiye nodded slowly as Gilukhipa turned for the river dismissing her bodyslave with a gesture. “It’s alright, Aseneth. I wish to bathe alone today.” She gave Tiye a lingering backward glance as the Queen fingered the fabric and stared after her.
Tiye sighed. Gilukhipa is not ugly. She had been wrong in that. But neither was she a goddess that caught the eye, she was a woman, just a woman. A princess of Mitanni taken from her home while yet a girl, a child bride sent to wed a boy prince who loved his horses more than her. He had gone to her a few times in the first years, more through duty than desire, but no babe had resulted from his efforts and soon enough his visits ceased. For the better part of a year she’d slept alone. And now, not three moons past her nineteenth name-day she was finally utterly cast aside for a younger, prettier creature that had it all so easy – a younger, prettier creature that gave him sons. Tiye rose to go after her. “Gil, wait, please, I … I’m sorry…”
Trumpets announced Pharaoh’s sudden approach. The noise made the baby cry. Amenophis was all smiles when he came up behind her and took her in his arms, his lips quick to find her cheek. “Leaving so soon, my love?” The words came between kisses. The babe seemed to take issue with this rival for his mother’s affections and the tears turned to a wail. Amenophis stepped back, still smiling, “We named him well; father said when Tuthmosis the Great opened his mouth even the seas themselves gave ear and parted at his command.”
Tiye nodded, Tuthmosis. Like the Dreamer and the warrior before him. Shiri had told her much of the warrior’s exploits in Palestine before she left. He was great alright, great at bringing death and destruction, great at forcing whole nations into bondage. The name had not been Tiye’s choice.
Amenophis grinned. “What’s this?” He took Gilukhipa’s crest from her. “You made this?” He sounded almost incredulous. “I didn’t know you were so skilled. By the gods, it’s gorgeous! You should have given it to me sooner so I could have worn it for my coronation!” He took the excuse to move in and kiss her again, despite little Tuthmosis’s opposition.
His queen shook her head. “Gilukhipa made it. To remind you that with the death of her grandfather the duel crown now takes dominion over the lands of her forefathers.”
“Oh.” He paused a moment, before laughing and shrugging in one. “I need no scrap of cloth to remind me of the lesser nations we have for vassals.” He tossed it to one of his attendants without a further glance.
Tiye didn’t laugh with him and he gave her a quizzical look. “I never wanted to wed her,” he said solemnly. “They could have married her off to any noble seeking to improve his status with a bit of royal blood, but instead they forced the burden on me.”
Tiye chewed her lip, glancing briefly to where the sad figure of Gilukhipa had disappeared amidst the rushes. Will that be me when the next ‘Beautiful One’ catches his eye? “You … you should not speak of her like that, whether you willed it or no, she is still your wife. You should speak kindly of her or others will take your lead.”
Amenophis sighed a little irritably and sought to change the subject. “Wait ‘till you see what you’re getting for your next name-day! Even now, I have four thousand Habiru and thrice as many freeborn labourers hard at work on it!”
She smiled briefly before lowering her gaze. “You give me power and title, you give me the mightiest ship on the river, and now you have what? Sixteen thousand men...” she raised her eyes to his, “You should give her something too. If nothing else it would please the lords of Mitanni and help keep our northern borders strong. Mitanni is vassal in name only. They could just as easily choose the path of war.”
He laughed and
turned to his vizier. “Already does my queen seek to strengthen our standing abroad!” Papis nodded without smiling. Amenophis took her hand playfully. “Alright my love, how about we give her the Water Palace on Elephantine?” He grinned and moved to her ear. “You don’t want the competition hanging around here is that it?”
Papis made a disapproving noise in his throat. “You would send her away just because this one wishes it so?”
Amenophis grinned at him before raising his voice dramatically. “The Red Queen does not wish! The Red Queen commands!” He gestured to a scroll of tanned papyrus in the priest’s hands. “Hurry on then, man. Your queen has spoken! See that her will is carried out!” Papis scribbled something onto the papyrus obligingly.
“There,” Amenophis said, sounding rather pleased with himself as once again he lowered his voice and returned to her ear. “The old bat can rule the Water Palace with an iron fist and practice her needlework ‘till her heart’s content.”
Tiye made a face. “That’s not exactly what-” she was interrupted by a running messenger. He cut a path through the royal attendants and went to his knees before Pharaoh, “A message from Smenkaure, Sire. It is as we-”
Amenophis cut the man off with a sharp look. “I’ll take it in my private chambers,” he said with a furtive glance in Tiye’s direction. He offered his son a parting smile and blew his wife a kiss before following quickly after the man.
Tiye stared after him a little plaintively. He holds gifts in one hand and secrets in the other. She shook her head dismissing the thought. He’s just busy. He was Pharaoh now, sole Pharaoh with no Co-Regent to help him rule, small wonder his responsibilities were mounting, he couldn’t keep her informed of every little thing.
She closed her eyes and relaxed in the sun. Tuthmosis had settled once more and she held him protectively. “You’ll be remembered long after the one they call, Great,” she promised before drifting into a light and fitful sleep. She awoke to screams.
Aton had turned the river crimson and gold when the body was sighted. Aseneth’s wails brought her rushing to the water’s edge. By the time she arrived half a dozen slaves were already surging out into the waters. But they were too late, far too late. Tiye raised a hand to her mouth. No, please no. Pale and nauseous the Red Queen stood stricken as face down in the Tears of Isis, a princess of Mitanni floated by.
XVII
Meira approached them nervously. They were walking idly through the gardens speaking softly, the slave’s head resting on his shoulder. Hand in hand again. They were always hand in hand. A twig broke and she saw Shiri turn, the shepherd girl’s smile faded when she saw her. The high priest turned with her. Meira curtsied for him but his smile disappeared too. He always used to have smiles for me. He has smiles for all my people. “What do you want?” He said harshly.
She’s told him. Told him what I did to her. She felt her eyes water with shame and self loathing. It was your wife, she made me … made me do it all. It was all an act don’t you understand? She looked over her shoulder anxiously. It had taken all her courage to come, if her mistress discovered, it could be her skin at the end of the switch. “Lord Yuya you … you have to leave Heliopolis.” She looked about her again, half resembling a fawn on the edge of flight. “You have to leave right now.” She reached for his arm and tried to pull him forward. He shrugged her off.
Shiri wrapped her fingers tighter about his. “Why did she send you here?”
“She doesn’t know! You must come … you must come at once!” Meira reached for the slave this time, but Shiri recoiled from her as if she had the plague.
“Don’t you touch me. Don’t you ever touch me again.”
The high priest stepped forward a little angrily now. “You heard her, Meira. Go back to your mistress. You’re not wanted here.”
Meira fell to her knees. “Please m’lord! Please! You’ve been so good … so good to my people. You must listen, there’s no time! They’re here already she tells them all!” She turned to Shiri, tears in her eyes now, “I … I didn’t mean it! I didn’t. I swear I didn’t … I had to please her … if I didn’t she’d … she’d … please you must run! You must while you still can! You must!”
Shiri looked suddenly anxious; she took a knee beside the slave. Meira stared into her eyes. “I’m sorry … Shiri … I’m so, so sorry.”
Shiri bit her lip. “I know,” quickly she rose and turned to Josef. “She tells it true we must…”
“Meira!” Tjuya’s voice reverberated around the gardens like the screeching of a hawk.
Meira spun her face a mask of sudden horror, so soon! The brothers from Thebes were at her mistress’s side. All at once, she was on her feet clapping her hands in delight. “Oh please let me stay, m’lady! I want to watch! Let me help! I can get my switch and make dogface bark!” She ran to her mistress, giggling and hoping up and down excitedly.
Tjuya glared at her angrily. Get out of here, Meira. The slave pouted before nodding and moving quickly away. Tjuya rolled her eyes at the man beside her. “I swear that Habiru is getting stupider by the day.” She didn’t notice her bodyslave changing course and hurrying in the direction of Old Solon’s villa.
Josef looked from his wife, to Smenkaure, to his father’s murderer and back again. “What have you told them, Tjuya?”
Tjuya stared back. “The truth, my love … just the truth.”
“Your Habiru is to die.” Smenkaure said. He glanced from priest to slave with a look of disgust. “And your bastard’s crown is forfeit.”
Josef spun to his wife in disbelief. She met his gaze with a hate filled smile. “Your precious daughter will be put to death, or sent into exile if her husband cannot bring himself to give the command,” she shrugged. “I’m sorry, my love, you left me no choice.”
“No!” Shiri made to run at the woman and rip her limb from limb. Josef held her back.
“And the babe,” Smenkaure’s mouth twisted briefly with distaste. “Yet another Habiru bastard,” he turned to Tjuya, “what was the dog’s name?”
Tjuya’s eyes did not leave her husband. “Amran,” she said confidently.
Shiri gasped at the lie. “No! It’s not true! The child is trueborn! Amran … it was nothing … nothing but a child’s kiss, he…”
“Even now does the whore spout lies and falsehoods,” Tjuya said wearily. She turned to the ghaffir, “I saw Tiye and the Habiru boy rutting like rabbits with my own eyes. I would have told all then but my husband threatened me with fist and flail.”
Smenkaure nodded, “As you say then. The babe must be put to the sword, even Pharaoh himself will admit as much.” He turned to the priest and stretched out his hand, “Now … give me the slave.”
Josef stepped forward. “No.”
Smenkaure made an impatient gesture. “Stand in my way if you will, it makes but one difference; I’ll kill you first then take her all the same.”
Josef shook his head. “You’re wrong in that,” he parted his robes ever so slightly revealing the leather bound hilt of a kophesh. “It means she’ll stay. It means you’ll bleed.”
The Companion laughed. “What kind of priest keeps a sword under his robes?”
“One who knows how to use it.”
The ghaffir’s laugh dissolved into a menacing scowl. He slid Montu from his sheath and pointed him at the priest’s chest. “Getting a blade in the gut is not a great way to spend an evening, priest. I know many men who’ll attest to that.” He moved fractionally closer, “Now, I give you one last chance. My fight is not with you. Step aside or defy the written word of your king and name yourself traitor,” he grinned, “Montu savours traitor’s blood most of all.”
Josef didn’t move. He heard Tjuya speaking. “Please my darling, listen to him. Stand aside, the whore has deceived you as she deceived us all. She murdered Pharaoh!”
“We’ll go to the Wildlands … we’ll all go to the Wildlands, Tiye, the babe, all of us, we’ll have no more to do with Egypt…”
&nbs
p; Tjuya moved a little closer. “The Wildlands? It’s too late for that, my love. She cast the slave a venomous glance. “The only freedom in store for this one is the freedom of the grave. And as for your daughter…”
“There’s no need to shed blood,” Josef tried.
“There’s every need,” Smenkaure said. “There can be no bastard pretenders to the throne.”
Tjuya seemed to contemplate something. She moved in, bringing her lips to her husband’s ear. “Be thankful, that’s all I’ve told him … Josef, Prince of Shepherds,” she kissed his cheek, “I can still save you, my darling. The choice is yours. Just stand aside and once your whore and her bastard are dealt with we can be together again. Already, is our trueborn son first lord of Akhmin and he seeks to rise higher still … we could see him become vizier one day … and we … we could rule together in Heliopolis for years to come. You would sacrifice years of happiness and success for your whore … for your bastard?”
“I would sacrifice everything for them.” He shoved her away, causing her to laugh almost hysterically. Smenkaure nodded to his brother and it all happened at once. Narmer moved on Shiri. Josef drew his blade and stepped between them. Smenkaure met him with Montu. Josef lunged. Smenkaure turned the strike, and in one skilful motion swivelled and fisted him across the jaw. Josef fell to all fours. He heard Shiri scream. She launched herself towards him. Narmer grabbed the slave and twisted her arms painfully behind her back. Tjuya stood there half in shock.
And then Josef was on his feet again. He wiped a little blood from under his nose, glanced to where Shiri and Narmer struggled and made to go to them. Again Smenkaure blocked his path. Josef watched as Narmer smiled at him before licking the slave’s face from chin to cheek, and attempting to slide an adventurous hand under her skirts. Josef dove at Smenkaure again. Shiri screamed and struggled as their blades clashed. Lunge, parry, counterstroke, it was so quick she could she could barely see the movements. But she did see Josef fall again, blood was streaming down his arm this time.