The Kingdom of Nefertiti (The Desert Queen Book 3)

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The Kingdom of Nefertiti (The Desert Queen Book 3) Page 14

by M. L. Bullock


  Sitamen wailed. “I cannot allow you to do this. I won’t, Ramose. All will be well. I know it!” She laid her head on my chest, and I held her, uncaring that Tiye witnessed the demonstration of my affection. I kissed the top of her head, and we said nothing for a long minute.

  “You have to go. Leave Kames with me. I promise you no harm will come to him. Amenhotep would never injure a child. Go now and let me reason with him.”

  “I cannot run away. All Egypt knows who I am, and I will not let the weight of this fall on you. Let me go to him. I will do as your mother suggests, and let us see how things go.”

  “No. Don’t leave, Ramose.” She sobbed and clung to me with all her might.

  “Take care of Kames, Sitamen. Promise me.” Through moist eyes and wet cheeks, she agreed begrudgingly. I grasped her arms and pushed her away.

  “No! Ramose!”

  Her sobs rang in my ears as I walked down the corridor, my heart pounding with fear. Not for myself but for Kames and Sitamen. I knew what my punishment would be.

  Queen Tiye spoke the truth.

  There would be no mercy. I would burn.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Tiye—Moment of Forgetting

  Sitamen screamed at me, “How can you do this? Why did you come here?”

  “I did not create this disastrous situation. You did. And by doing so you left us open to attack from the Hittite woman and all our enemies! Don’t you know that even now the kingdom hangs in the balance? Your brother is new to his throne and weak in the eyes of the world.”

  She wiped her nose with her hand. Her hair came unbound and hung around her face in tangles, catching the excess moisture on her cheeks. It clung to her most unattractively. She tucked the hair behind her large ears and continued to yell at me. “What enemies? Which ones? Do you think I don’t know what this is about? This is about you and Kiya! Will this feud never end? Now you have taken everything from me, Mother. Everything!”

  No matter how hard I tried to keep my heart a stone, I could not help but feel sympathy for her. She was like a leaf in a bowl of water on a windy day. She always had been. Turning this way and that with no focus, no dream that was real. Sitamen had suffered the disease many spoiled princesses suffered. Daydreaming. I had warned her to turn her attentions to real life, but she had not heeded my words. “No matter what you think, Sitamen, I never wanted to come here. I saw this in the water. I did not come right away because I wanted you to have more time. I hoped it was a false vision. But when even Huya heard the gossip, I had to come and see for myself. It was either me or your brother. Which do you prefer?” When she did not answer me, I continued, “Why do you think I always kept you at arm’s length, daughter?”

  “Now you call me daughter?”

  Ignoring her disrespect, I continued, “Because I knew you would have this life—a life with no husband, no lover, no children—and I could not stand to watch it unfold. I should have known you would do something like this!”

  “Like what? Love a man? Love Ramose? Want a child of my own? Desire the things all women have?”

  “Women never choose their own destinies.”

  “But you did, didn’t you, Mother? You were not the daughter of Pharaoh, yet here you stand. The Great Wife of my father, Amenhotep. You have always done as you chose, and you always chose what was best for you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You did not mishear me. As always, you think of yourself above anyone. I wish to the gods you were not my mother. I wish anyone were my mother but you!”

  I grabbed her arms and held her tight, even though she twisted and tried to pull away from me.

  “Let me go! I want to die!”

  Many young women said foolish things when love disappointed them, but something in Sitamen’s voice told me I should believe her. I had seen her in the water, her face the picture of anguish. She reached toward the flames and screamed, “Ramose!” I saw my son with a cold look in his eyes, watching as the man burned for his crimes against Pharaoh. And I saw one more thing. I could not let it happen! I could not! I would stay with her whether she said yea or nay. Until there was officially a new Great Queen, I held that role.

  “I will not let you go, Sitamen. You cannot leave me, and I will not leave you. Perhaps I have not been the best mother to you, but I am here now. And I swear to you, I will not leave you.” Sitamen fell onto her bed of blue silk and curled into a ball. I sat in an uncomfortable chair and watched her cry. I did not touch her or disturb her in her grief. She loved Ramose, I had no doubt. Perhaps he loved her too, but it was of little matter now. Huya would have found him and led him to Pharaoh’s palace to await Pharaoh’s decision. It would be out of our hands. Better that I tell him than Tadukhipa or some other. When I could, I would plead for the man, but I knew how it would go for him. The law could not be undone. It had never been undone. To lie with the daughter or wife of Pharaoh meant death. Doubly so if she was both. There would be nothing for Ramose but fire in the belly of the bull. I shuddered thinking about the massive golden bull. The priests of Amun would prepare it, making it shine like the sun before they stuffed Ramose inside it and lit the flames. It was a horrible thing to witness. Once, a wife and half-sister of my husband had done the same thing, slept with another man. Amenhotep was fond of her, but it did not matter. The law remained the law. She burned in the belly of the bull along with her lover. It had been so long ago that I could not remember either of their names. But it had been a cruel thing indeed. “Why not give them poison to drink or remove their heads?” I had asked my husband.

  His words were, “The law is the law.”

  And that was the way it was. No amount of tears or love would change that. Not for anyone, even young Sitamen.

  Time passed. I grew hungry, but I remained in the chair even when the servants came into the room to raise the curtains and light the torches. One young servant brought in a tray of food to tempt Sitamen to eat. She stared at the girl as if she did not hear her, but I knew she did. Instead she rolled over and gazed up at the moon. It rose perfectly round in the purple sky, and the stars shone happily, completely unaware of the evil that would soon befall the great General of Egypt and possibly his young lover. What would her father say? What would he do if he were here?

  Someone brought the baby into the room. He cried a little, but Sitamen did not show any interest in him. “What is his name again? I forgot.” I asked the wet nurse.

  “Kames, Great Queen. He is the son of…”

  “I know whose son he is. He is my grandson and the son of my daughter, Sitamen. She has adopted him as her own.” Sitamen sat up in her bed, and for the first time today I saw a glimmer of happiness on her face. She reached for Kames, and I gave him to her.

  “Thank you, Great Queen,” she whispered sadly. I nodded and stepped back. My words made it law. Let any man—even my son—say differently. He could not! I stared down at the baby. He was a handsome child with dark-fringed lashes, warm, light brown skin and a nose like his father’s. I saw nothing of the foreign girl in him. He would be the image of his father, of that I had no doubt. Well, if Sitamen could not have the father, at least she would have the son as her own. This I could do for her. If she lived.

  “Excuse me, Great Queen, your son is here to see you and the Princess Sitamen.” Huya’s eyes told me everything I needed to know. He avoided making eye contact. His bow was stiff and formal. This was not a random visit. Pharaoh had indeed heard the rumors, or perhaps had heard it from the General’s own lips.

  Now we would see where the fates fell. I made the sign against curses behind my back in case Tadukhipa was behind this. I would not put it past her to curse us all.

  I did not mock Amenhotep by pretending I did not know the reason for his sudden visit. He stormed into the room, his fists clenched. He paused at the foot of Sitamen’s bed and stared down at her and the child.

  “Is this your child, Sitamen? Is this Ramose’s child? Confess what you have done! He has
already told me from his own lips that he has lain with you. He believes he is in love with you. I had him beaten!” Amenhotep tore off the cover, and I took the baby from Sitamen, afraid that my son would strike her. I had never seen him so angry.

  “I adopted Ramose’s child. Kames is not my blood, but he has my name. Mother spoke it.”

  He turned his head to me, his blue and gold striped headpiece swinging sharply, and his eyes flashed with anger. “You did this?”

  “The father will die, won’t he? Allow the son to live; he is only a baby, not guilty of anything except being born to Ramose. I declared it so already. And…” I continued cautiously, “I am still Great Queen unless you have chosen a wife to take my place. If you have not, it is my right.”

  “Your right? You approve of this? Did you know the whole time? My own General! Lying with my sister under my very nose! Sitamen! Why?”

  “Because you would never have me, and you cannot give me to anyone else. I had no choice. I love him, Amenhotep! I love Ramose! He has my heart, and I have his! Please have mercy! He has been a faithful servant to you. Please, brother! You have always been so kind and good to me. Please. I will never ask you for another thing!”

  “Indeed you will not. Ramose is going to burn as soon as the Aten rises. I cannot stop it, for the priests of Amun are even now polishing their bull and readying it for the sacrifice. And as for you, I command you to be in attendance. You will watch what you have done to the man you say you love.”

  “No, please, Amenhotep. Do not do this! I cannot believe you would kill your friend and the man I love! Look upon the son I have adopted—Ramose’s son! Please!”

  “You make it worse each time you say his name! Speak no more to me, Sitamen. I am Pharaoh Amenhotep, and I command that Sitamen my wife and sister shall no more speak to me. If she does, she will also die in the fire!”

  “Son! You cannot do this! You cannot condemn your sister like this! Have mercy on her! She is your blood and flesh; you are both the fruit of my womb! Amenhotep, listen to me!”

  “No more, Great Queen! No more words on this subject.” I could see that he was crying, nearly sobbing himself. “Why? Why did they do this? We could have found another way, but now I cannot change it. Ramose will burn in the bull, and Sitamen will witness it. Where is the child?”

  I took the baby in my arms and refused to hand him over. So angry was my son that I could not trust him. I would never have imagined this day would ever come.

  “I command you as your Pharaoh to give me the child, Mother.” Hesitatingly, I did as he asked. I prayed to the Aten to protect Kames, and I made sure Amenhotep heard me doing so.

  He held him as Sitamen wrestled pitifully in her bed, sobbing from the depths of her soul. One of the physicians had arrived during our discourse and was now forcing the girl to drink a dose of calming medicine. In just a few seconds I could see it take effect. She became very still, her voice quiet and calm. She had that dreamy look in her eyes as she watched everything. Pharaoh walked around the room with the baby in his arms. Possibly sensing the danger and the anger of the king, the baby began to wail and cry. Amenhotep walked to the balcony and then stopped. For one terror-filled moment I imagined the worst.

  “No, Amenhotep. Imagine your own son, protected and safe in his mother’s belly. What has this child had? No mother, now no father. Please do not harm him. Give him to me, and you will never have to see him again. I will care for him. I swear you will never see or hear from him again.”

  Considering my words for a moment, he extended his arms to me and gave me the baby. “As if I would have harmed him,” he said in a rough voice. “See to it that you keep your word, Mother.” As quickly as I could, I left the room with the child, but I was gone only long enough to return him to his wet nurse. I raced back to Sitamen’s room. Sitting on the edge of her bed staring down at her was Amenhotep. She stared back with a blank expression.

  “If she had come to me, we might have found a way. I can do nothing now.”

  “Sitamen loves Ramose. I am sure of it.”

  “And unfortunately for her, her love comes with a death sentence. I mourn for him. In a different world I would have welcomed him as a brother-in-law, but it cannot be. We have the Phares blood, and it cannot be mingled with any other kind.”

  I wanted to say, What about your father? He married me, didn’t he? However, I kept my peace.

  “So death is the only option?” I sat on the other side of the bed. I knew Sitamen could hear us, but she would not remember our words or understand them.

  “You know this.”

  “I do.”

  “I saw her in the water, my son. I saw her dying. I cannot let her die. I have been a poor mother to her, but I refuse to let her die! I will stay with her every moment of the day to prevent it.”

  “Yes, stay with her, Mother. Keep her safe. I must go now.”

  “Go see your queen, Amenhotep, and forget this for the night. I will see you tomorrow.” With a nod of agreement, he left me; he cast one last sad look at his sister, who stared off into the sky and drooled, the medicine taking full effect. I would have to talk to the physician and ask for more, or she would never survive the burning of Ramose in the morning.

  How could this have happened? My poor, sweet daughter.

  Then I remembered something I heard a long time ago. Amenhotep and I had visited the Three Oracles at Majayat on our honeymoon. Those old witches were ancient then, and surely they were dead now. We had entered their cave, our hands full of the pearls they loved. We left our gifts at their feet, and they told us what we wanted to know. We would have many children, but many would die. All those who died could have lived, but because of our stars, we had doomed them all to live unfulfilled lives. First Thutmose died, then his little brother, so small and unformed was he that I did not name him. Now the prophecy of the Oracles reached out across time to claim Sitamen too. I would not allow this!

  As she began to fall asleep, I slid in the bed beside her. The baby was gone now with the nervous nursemaid, who promised to never leave Kames alone. I lay beside Sitamen and pulled her slack body to mine. It was easy to do, for she was small too. I stroked her hair and touched her face just as I used to do when she was a child.

  My daughter! Amenhotep’s daughter! How cruel I have been to you! How I love you, daughter!

  I fell asleep with tears on my skin. I thought I had lost the ability to cry, but I was wrong. Tears had been there all along.

  I needed them tonight. As the servants snuffed out the lights, I began to pray quietly to Isis. If she did not intervene and prevent this disaster, I would worship her no more. I told her so, but I heard nothing in return.

  With a last sigh, I fell asleep and did not dream.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Nefertiti—Children of the Aten

  I stormed through the gates of the temple, passing the first pylon without much notice. A row of gigantic statues faced me. The statue of Queen Tiye wore a short, round wig, and her stone husband sat stiffly beside her. Frozen in a moment of time, the couple appeared happy to receive guests at Amun’s temple. I was sure she felt differently about it now. After all, these priests had murdered my husband’s brother and plundered the fortunes of Egypt without fear. Nobody protested much, but everyone knew the truth. By killing the older brother, they had unintentionally driven my husband to worship the Aten. In doing so, he abandoned centuries of tradition, and that was not an easy thing for the leopard coats to stomach.

  Later today, I would see my husband for the first time in months. I knew he was back in Thebes, although he had not come to me last night. I had a growing sense of fear that he had chosen Tadukhipa over me, but I had one last task to do. One more thing to accomplish before I relinquished my role as regent.

  Today I wore a long, flowing red robe to show my anger. Let them interpret that as anger for Ramose—the news of that scandal had rocked the capital—but it was truly the priests of Amun who stirred my rage. I pulled
my red hair back tightly to hide it and wore a dark wig with no adornment. I was going to see this golden beast, the place where they often burned children to their god. It was an abomination to my eyes and to the parents of those who were sacrificed. What kind of god would allow such things to be done in his or her name? It would stop today!

  Menmet had told me about the sacrifice that was scheduled for this morning. Heby had whispered the secret in her ear, and she told me swiftly, loyal servant that she was. I forbade her from coming with me. I did not want Heby to be angry with her, but I was sure he would eventually find out the truth.

  I had never been to the temple of Amun. Never had I laid a sacrifice at the feet of the god there, and never would I. Not since I learned of their despicable practices, practices that Amenhotep would learn about. I passed the second pylon and barely glanced at the four statues that faced me. I did not know their names, but I made the sign of respect to them. My servants looked puzzled, but I did not need to explain anything to them. I kept walking. An unfamiliar leopard coat came toward me. He looked amused at my approach.

  “Queen Nefertiti,” he called as if he were calling an old friend. I did not pause but kept walking. “Wait, my queen! We are not accustomed to royal guests entering the temple without prior notice. What can we help you with?” Still not speaking to the leopard-coated evil one, I gave my guard, Kemaza, a hard stare. The guard stepped between the priest and me, forbidding him to speak to me again.

  “Come now, Harwa. Let us see the truth of the matter.”

  “Down here, Queen Nefertiti.” Harwa pointed to a low staircase. I paused at the top of the stairs, seeing only darkness. I was angry, but my mind also suspected treachery. Treachery abounded in Egypt. That much was true. The place drew evil into it like a spider summoned flies and insects. Just like Astora. She had been evil, but I would never know now what had compelled her to come here. Omel had done his best to show me he knew nothing of her intentions, but I did not believe him. Harwa, though? He had given me no reason not to trust him, and he had been recommended by the old queen. I trusted her above everyone else here.

 

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