“I do not brood,” she said. “And as for you, my little warrior, I rather fancy that your brooding days are over. Ahmose will find himself somewhat short of commanders when he recovers. Perhaps he should offer you a division. The Division of Hathor?” Aahmes-nefertari swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat. Her grandmother’s tone had been sardonic but there was no mistaking the sincerity of the compliment. “Now go away, both of you,” Tetisheri finished. “If I am to stand with you tomorrow on the dais, I must have the last of the wine massaged away.” Outside the room Aahotep turned to her daughter.
“I will leave Ramose to you,” she said quietly. “I must summon Hor-Aha. This will sound cruel, Aahmes-nefertari, but I hope that Ahmose remains unconscious until the deed is done. If he opens his eyes before dawn, we will be forced to wait upon his decision. I do not think I could bear the delay.” Aahmes-nefertari put a hand to her mother’s cheek in silent agreement and they parted.
It was Senehat who opened the door when Aahmes-nefertari knocked. Seeing the Princess, she bowed and stood aside. “I must speak to Ramose in private,” Aahmes-nefertari said as she walked past her. “Be pleased to wait in the passage, Senehat.” The servant nodded, and at the closing of the door behind her Aahmes-nefertari turned to Ramose.
He and Senehat had been sharing a meal. His table held cups and a wine jug and several empty dishes. He rose at her approach, reverencing her, and she could see by his expression that he knew what was coming. “I want you to take a herald and a guard and go to Akhmin and Djawati,” she said without preamble. “We must know how it is with Mesehti and Makhu. We pray that they simply ran home, but if they headed for the Delta we will have to send troops after them. That is why you need the herald, to send back word as soon as you can. The matter is urgent. We want you to take ship tonight.” He looked at her speculatively for a moment, eyes narrowed.
“You have decided to execute my mother,” he said softly. “That is why you are sending me north.” There is no point in tiptoeing around the truth, Aahmes-nefertari thought, meeting his gaze. Not with Ramose.
“Yes,” she admitted. “You have always valued honesty, old friend. We see no alternative that will ensure our safety. Know that we are anguished for your sake but not for hers. She deserves nothing more.” He backed up against a chair and sank into it awkwardly.
“Will you at least tell me when it is to be so that I may pray for the journey of her ka? And, Highness, I insist on a proper beautifying for her. I will pay for it myself.” Once more Aahmes-nefertari wanted to kneel beside him and take him in her arms, this time for his sake not hers.
“Of course,” she replied steadily. “It will be at dawn tomorrow. Ramose, I am so sorry. I do not have the words …” He held up a hand.
“No more, Aahmes-nefertari,” he begged. “I will do as you have ordered, but now I must be alone. Please tell Senehat to go to her cell. I could not endure her presence either.”
Ahmose must compensate him for everything we have taken from him over the years, Aahmes-nefertari vowed feverishly to herself as she made her way through the darkening house. I will personally insist that he is given an estate, a princely title, trade monopolies, anything he wants when Ahmose achieves divinity. But she knew, as she settled herself beside her husband’s still form, that nothing could replace the loss of Tani or soothe the wound of his parents’ disgrace. Power would not warm his couch. Gold could not erase shame. And promises will not allay the guilt I feel, she sighed inwardly. All of us have become victims to a greater or lesser degree in this struggle, and there is no returning, for us or for Egypt.
She did not sleep that night. In a kind of confused need for expiation she remained with Ahmose, rising occasionally to stretch cramped limbs or trim the lamp but chiefly spending the hours leaning thoughtfully over the couch. Twice the physician came, examined his patient, and with a polite word to her, left again. Akhtoy also slipped in and out of the room with water and fruit for her but she neither ate nor drank. She could judge how time was passing by the quality of the silence both inside the house and outside in the empty garden. Twice she heard the guard change beyond the door and at the second watch she left her husband and went reluctantly to her own quarters. It was time to dress and Ahmose still had not opened his eyes. She did not know whether to be grateful or sorry.
In the chill pre-dawn air she, her mother and her grandmother were escorted to the parade ground by Ankhmahor and the few Followers who had escaped the Princes’ purge. The body of Meketra, now swollen and turning black, was carried before them. Aahotep had forbidden it to be wrapped, and Aahmes-nefertari kept her eyes on the helmets of the soldiers so that she would not see the man’s lolling, misshapen head. Nevertheless she was sure that she could detect the scent of corruption wafting from the corpse to her nostrils on the first stirrings of the morning breeze. I will not falter, she told herself firmly. I will not shudder or shrink from what I am about to see. I will remember Kamose and my father. I will think of my ancestors. But most of all I will conjure the face of my son and let my anger be my armour.
The huge expanse of the parade ground was already packed with troops. As the three women mounted the dais, Aahmes-nefertari noted that Hor-Aha had ranked them according to their allegiance, with the Princes’ men fronting the one open space. There was hardly a sound. The curious but familiar hiatus that always preceded Ra’s rising seemed intensified by the motionless assembly, line upon line of faces turned blankly towards the reviewing stand.
At Aahotep’s small gesture Meketra’s body was set down where all could see it. A tremor ran through the troops. Amun-nakht came forward and bowed, Simontu with him. “Is everything ready?” Aahotep asked the Governor of the Prison. He nodded his assent. “Have the Princes and Nefer-Sakharu completed their prayers?”
“They have, Majesty,” Simontu replied. “However, the Lady Nefer-Sakharu is so frantic as to be unmanageable. We have had to bring her here in a closed litter.”
“I understand. Amun-nakht, have the prisoners brought forward and tethered, and then I will address the troops.”
Aahmes-nefertari restrained an impulse to slap a hand over her heart. It had begun to drum against her ribs almost painfully and she marvelled at her mother’s calm. Aahotep’s painted features revealed nothing but a certain coldness. Aahmes-nefertari glanced sideways at her grandmother. Tetisheri’s face was equally impassive under the many-braided wig. Do I look like that, the girl wondered, or is my agitation betrayed to the whole army? She put her hands behind her back and clenched her fists tightly until she felt her rings digging into her flesh.
A dismal cavalcade was approaching from the direction of Amun-nakht’s quarters. At first Aahmes-nefertari could not see the Princes for the crowd of Medjay surrounding them, but as they drew closer and were forced to pass Meketra’s obscene remains they came clearly into view. Both Intef and Iasen were naked but for a loincloth. Intef was shivering. Iasen appeared dazed, stumbling with uncoordinated limbs over the ground. Aahmes-nefertari turned her head from them in shock, only to find her gaze alighting on Nefer-Sakharu. The woman was clad in a billowing unbelted blue sheath. Her feet were bare. She was supported between two Medjay, for it was obvious that terror had rendered her incapable of supporting herself. Behind them Hor-Aha led ten archers.
Three stakes had been erected in the centre of the arena. With a speed and efficiency that Aahmes-nefertari found appalling the three condemned were tied to the wood. Intef stood defiantly, his face to the lightening sky, but Iasen’s chin sank onto his chest. Nefer-Sakharu simply sank to the earth until the thongs gripping her wrists would allow her to go no further. Then she began to scream. At a brusque word from Hor-Aha one of the Medjay escorts strode up to her and clamping a hand roughly over her mouth he attempted to muffle the noise, but Nefer-Sakharu would not be silenced. Biting and kicking she struggled, twisting this way and that, until with an oath born of exasperation the Medjay pulled out his knife and cut her throat.
Aahmes
-nefertari cried out in horror. The man was wiping his weapon on the woman’s sheath while her body still jerked and thrashed. Hor-Aha was at his side in an instant, his leather-clad fist drawn back. The sound of the blow was audible, and Intef began to laugh. “That was murder not execution,” he yelled harshly. “Look at the savages on whom you have chosen to rely, Aahotep Tao. They are nothing but wild animals, every one of them, including Kamose’s precious General. Two years of military discipline have not turned them into soldiers and wrapping them in kilts has not made them Egyptian. Underneath they will always be black beasts. And you would condemn us to death for refusing to place ourselves under the command of such as those? Kamose made them officers and hung them with gold but he could not make them human.”
Aahmes-nefertari could not take her eyes away from the sight of Nefer-Sakharu’s blood forming a dark pool. Amun help me, I will never forget this, her mind was clamouring, I will never be free of the horror of it, the brutal suddenness, the memory will stay vivid and soil me for the rest of my life.
Hor-Aha was cutting Nefer-Sakharu’s body free of the stake and at his terse word the Medjay who had lost his temper was being picked up from where he had fallen and bound in her place. Whispers and murmurs had begun to run through the ranks of watching men and the tone had an ominous undercurrent of anger. “He is right, of course,” Tetisheri said imperturbably. “They are indeed savages. But useful savages. It is a pity that Hor-Aha did not see that coming. It makes us look very bad in front of the army.” Aahmes-nefertari stared at her unbelievingly and Aahotep rounded on her at once.
“Keep your conclusions to yourself, Tetisheri!” she demanded. “They are not for the ears of these Followers. You know how soldiers gossip. Now be silent or I will have your tongue removed.” She stepped quickly to the edge of the dais, and Aahmes-nefertari saw her take a deep breath. “Men of Weset and all Egypt,” she began, her voice ringing out clearly over their mutterings. “The condemned you see before you are about to die. Their crime is not a matter of refusing to serve under the direction of the General who has proved his loyalty to this country and his worth to both my husband and my sons in their fight to rid us all of the Setiu yoke. The validity of their sentence even now lies in the House of the Dead, and if they had succeeded in their treasonous intention there would be two bodies in the hands of the sem-priests. There has been no trial. The proof of their perfidy is in no doubt. I grieve for the disgrace they have brought upon their families but they have left me no choice. His Majesty trusted them and was betrayed and murdered. General, do your duty.”
Hor-Aha signalled to his archers, already facing Intef, Iasen and the perverse Medjay. Unslinging their bows, they fitted the one arrow each had brought with them to the string, and in the small pause their actions afforded Aahmes-nefertari dragged her attention away from them to the desert beyond. At once the tightness in her chest let go and she felt her shoulders relax. There was a spurious peace in contemplating the quiet flush of pink along the irregular black line of the wide horizon and an illusion of normality, brief but sweet, in the cool, scentless breath that preceded the fiery birth of the god. It will be over soon, she told herself. Then the stakes will be uprooted and the soldiers dispersed and sand thrown on the blood and I can walk back through the garden to the early morning bustle of the house breathing free, breathing free …
Then Intef’s voice rang out for the last time, echoing loudly and distinctly as the rim of Ra lifted above the world and his first rays lit the scene, sending long shadows stretching across the tumbled ground. “You will regret this,” he called. “You are setting a dangerous precedent, Aahotep Tao. Your blood is no older or purer than ours. We are nobles and Princes of Egypt, and if nobles and Princes can be treated like common criminals, what message are you sending to common men? If we can die like jackals on your whim, they can be trodden underfoot like worms? Kamose was a vengeful murderer. Kamose …” Hor-Aha’s raised arm came down. The Medjay bent their bows with the effortless skill for which they were famous and almost before Aahmes-nefertari could trace their flight the arrows had sunk into their targets.
A great sigh went up followed by a deep silence. Aahmes-nefertari found herself clutching a handful of her sheath and when she tried to let it go it stuck to her moist palm. Aahotep spoke once more into the warming air. “Some among you were tempted to follow those men into treason and dishonour,” she said, and this time Aahmes-nefertari heard a quality of strain in the seemingly confident tones. “You also deserve punishment but it is the nature of soldiers to obey their superiors, therefore I look upon your brief defection with a certain indulgence. I will not do so again. The period of mourning for the King has begun and you are all forbidden to leave Weset until he goes to his tomb. That is all. Hor-Aha, dismiss them.”
At once the officers began to bark orders and the ranks of sullen faces broke up. Aahotep beckoned to Amunnakht. “Nefer-Sakharu is to be taken to the House of the Dead,” she said, “but the three Princes must remain where they are until dawn tomorrow, so that the troops may reflect upon their fate. Then they are to be carried out into the desert and buried in the sand. Give the Medjay’s corpse to his fellows for whatever funeral rituals they follow. Until the formal mourning for Kamose is over, the men may take exercise here but may not go further than the perimeter. Test the officers. Give them little responsibilities.” She hesitated, then sent him away, and turning to the steps she left the dais. “What else can I do?” she murmured to Aahmes-nefertari as the Followers moved to surround them and they set off for the house. “It is all up to Ahmose now.”
Nothing more was said until the three women stood together just within the entrance to their quarters. Then Tetisheri thrust herself close to Aahotep. “I will not be spoken to again in that insulting and humiliating manner!” she snarled. “Take care that you do not exceed the bounds of your authority again, Aahotep, for I command a preeminence that you will not inherit until I am dead.” Aahotep had taken her daughter’s arm on the long walk back to the house and several times she had almost stumbled. Aahmes-nefertari had become increasingly aware of the strain the morning’s terrible proceedings had put on her mother. Now Aahotep was leaning against the door to her apartment, her face haggard.
“You deserved my reprimand, Tetisheri,” she said wearily. “You spoke heedlessly from an arrogance that is not always tempered by wisdom. If we had all retreated into the wine jug as you did, it might have been Ahmose and Ahmose-onkh tied to the stakes out there and your vaunted pre-eminence would even now be dependent upon the doubtful goodwill of a couple of perfidious Princes who would probably have sent us to the river.” She had used the euphemism for the dispossessed state of women made homeless by war and Tetisheri had the grace to flinch. “It is Aahmes-nefertari who has become pre-eminent, though you cannot see it yet,” Aahotep went on. “I saved the life of her husband but her courage has saved Egypt itself. The power that was yours has passed to her, so be very careful what you say from now on. Go and eat something, both of you. I must rest.” The door closed behind her and Aahmes-nefertari and Tetisheri stared at each other warily. Tetisheri drew herself up.
“She is exhausted,” she said at last. “I forgive her her disrespectful words.” Aahmes-nefertari quelled a sudden urge to burst out laughing. Taking the tiny body in her arms, she hugged her grandmother.
“I love you, Tetisheri,” she choked. “You are as stubborn as a donkey and just as noisy when you begin to bray. I am going to the temple later to pray for Kamose. Come with me.”
We can begin to mourn for him fully now, she thought as she let herself into Ahmose’s room. The horror is behind us. Yet even as she reassured herself, her mind filled with the image of Nefer-Sakharu sagging against the stake with blood spurting from her neck and the Medjay bending to calmly wipe his blade on her crumpled sheath.
Ahmose’s body servant was washing his master and as she came up to the couch he paused to bow. The refreshing scent of mint filled the air and Aahmes-nefertari
drew it appreciatively into her lungs before bending to kiss Ahmose’s cheek. “The salve has been changed,” she remarked. The servant nodded.
“The physician has already been this morning, Highness,” he told her. “The wound is healing well and needs only honey on it. Also His Highness has begun to stir and he groans sometimes. The physician is very pleased. He says that His Highness’s eyes may open at any moment.”
“I will leave you to your ministrations and break my fast with the children,” Aahmes-nefertari said. “I will come and sit with him later.” She withdrew in relief. Much as she loved her husband, she found herself desperately needing the company of uncomplicated innocence.
She ate without appetite, played with Ahmose-onkh, held her baby, but as yet nothing would blunt the vision that sullied her ka. Only in the temple, standing beside an unrepentant Tetisheri while Amunmose sang for Kamose, did the memory lose some of its sharpness. It returned to pollute her evening meal and sour her wine, and later when she took Ahmose’s hand in the way that was becoming a sad little habit, she found it interposed between his tranquil face and the words she wished to say to him. So she watched him silently, trying to pour all her concentration into a contemplation of the curve of his brown cheek, the pleasing fullness of his mouth, the flutter of his black eyelashes as he walked in whatever strange dreams filled his abused head.
Towards midnight, too tired to sleep, she wandered out into the moon-drenched garden and sat in the grass beside the dark mirror of the pool. But there for the first time the fear of the dead crept over her. Surely the shadows under the trees behind her were not empty. Nefer-Sakharu’s white, malevolent face was peering out at her and Intef and Iasen were whispering together as they prowled closer to her defenceless spine.
She fought the dread with weapons newly acquired, confidence, courage and strength, and though the fear began to dissolve, she was still sure that she could hear ominous sounds. Faint calls seemed carried on the night air, faint splashes came from the direction of the river, and the undergrowth on the edge of the garden was alive with secret stirrings. I will not run, she said firmly to herself. There are night fishermen on the river, night animals going about their business in the shrubbery, guards pacing, it is the life of the dark hours and nothing more.
The Oasis Page 51