Pharaoh's Desire

by Chanta Rand

  “Take your time.” The guard shrugged and ambled back to his post.

  The moment the door was closed, Mutema rushed to hug him. “Latmay? What have we done? Why has Amonmose sentenced us here?”

  Latmay pushed slowly from her embrace. “This is not the Pharaoh’s doing,” he told them both. “His advisors are acting on his behalf. They have taken over all of his duties, and I am certain they are the ones responsible for this treachery.”

  “But how can that be?” Kama asked, her voice weak.She lifted her head to look at him.

  Had they lived in ignorance so long? Of course. Everything had been kept a secret. Latmay sighed and motioned for Mutema to sit. “What I have to say is not easy. Amonmose was injured during battle. When we found him, he was unconscious. His body was caked in dirt and mud, and an arrow was deeply embedded in his shoulder. He’d also suffered a nearly fatal blow to the head. After I’d tended his wounds and cleaned him up, he finally came to, but he had no memory of the event.”

  Mutema frowned. “I don’t understand what that has to do with—”

  “He has no memory of anything.” He paused. “He did not recall any details of his past. He didn’t even know he was Pharaoh.” Both women gasped. Latmay continued. “The advisors decided it was in everyone’s best interest if the Pharaoh’s condition were kept a secret. He’s been sequestered in his room since the night he returned from Hermopolis, allowed to see only me and his advisors.”

  Kama’s voice was a whisper. “That must have been why Baal refused to let me see him.”

  “Yes…they are treating him like a child, intervening in every aspect of his life. Anyone who is a threat to their plans is swiftly dealt with.” Latmay looked at Kama, and he put the pieces together. “That explains why you are here. Amonmose saw you in the garden one night. When he asked about you, his advisors told him no such woman existed. They convinced him that he must have been dreaming.”

  “I thought I felt someone watching me,” Kama said. “But when I looked up at his window, I saw no one.”

  Mutema shook her head and peered at Latmay. “We must do something.”

  His tone was grave. “We are dealing with extremely powerful men. They threatened to kill me if I told anyone. What can I do? Whom can I trust?”

  Kama sat up. “Mother is right. They are demons, and they must be stopped.” She tried to stand, but fell back down.

  Mutema pulled Kama close. “She has been sick like this for days,” she said to Latmay.

  “Tell me about this illness.”

  “She has fainting spells and nausea. One moment, she is ravenous, then, she has lost any desire to eat. I think it’s this damp. We must get her out of here.”

  Latmay took Kama’s slender wrist in his hand and listened for her pulse. He gently felt her lymph nodes along the graceful curve of her neck. He let out a long breath.“You are right, Mutema. It is vital that she be removed from this prison immediately.”

  Mutema steeled herself and took Kama’s hand. “Please help her. I cannot lose her again.”

  Latmay smiled grimly. “You misunderstand. What I mean that a prison is certainly no place to have a baby.”

  “A baby?”

  He looked at Kama. “I will have to perform the test to be sure, but from my diagnosis, it appears that you are pregnant.”

  “I—I am to be a mother?” She blinked at him.

  “It seems so.”

  A look of conviction crossed her face. “This babe belongs to Amonmose.”

  “I believe it.”

  “He…has no clue that I carry his child!” she said. “The future leader of Egypt is growing in my belly, we must do something. ”She tried to rise again, but Latmay urged her back down.

  “I want you to get plenty of rest and make sure that you eat,” he told her. “You may experience more nausea, but it’s to be expected. The sickness is different for each woman. It could last a few weeks or a few months, depending on the difficulty of the pregnancy. In the meantime, I will try to speak to Amonmose without anyone knowing. I shall return shortly.”

  Latmay glanced back as he left. If he could not get to Amonmose, there would be no one else left to help them.

  Latmay arrived at the Pharaoh’s chambers out of breath. He’d hurried through the palace as fast as his legs could carry him. This calamity had gone on long enough. It was time the Pharaoh knew what his advisors were doing under the guise of protecting him.

  Baal stood guard at the door, along with three other armed men. “The Pharaoh gave orders that no visitors were to be permitted entrance today,” he said.

  Latmay wondered if this dictate was from Amonmose or his advisors. “I have brought something to assuage his headaches,” he said innocently.

  Baal shook his head. “I cannot allow it.”

  Latmay’s eyes narrowed in thought. He stepped closer to Baal and lowered his voice. “Tell me,” he whispered. “Do you really think the advisors should deny the Pharaoh the medical care he needs?”

  Baal shifted. “No, and I do not agree with everything they do, but this request came directly from the mouth of the Pharaoh himself. He has asked me not to let anyone in.”

  “But I am his doctor.”

  “Anyone, Latmay. Not you, not the advisors, not anyone.”

  Latmay lifted an eyebrow in surprise. “He does not wish to see the advisors either? Why not? What is he doing in there?”

  Baal gave him a long measured look. “Preparing for his wedding.”

  Hours later, the palace was buzzing with news of the Pharaoh’s mandate. When Latmay learned that Amonmose was determined to choose a wife, he rushed back to the prison to give Kama the news. She took it better than he expected. There were no tears or tantrums. She held herself with the composure of a queen.

  “I cannot let evil triumph over good,” she said. “I owe that to Amonmose. My child has a destiny to fulfill, and I must make sure he succeeds. I will not be a victim, waiting for events to unfold. I love Amonmose. Anyone who is his enemy is my enemy. The advisors must pay for what they’ve done.”

  Latmay considered Kama’s words. “I too want them to suffer for their treachery, but what can we do? I am an old man. You are locked in here. How can the three of us challenge their authority?”

  “You mean four of us,” Kama corrected, and slowly smiled.

  “Four?”

  Kama looked at her mother. “A wise woman once told me that I can use my brain for more than just reading and writing.”

  Mutema smiled. “Women who didn’t have the opportunity to be educated had to rely on their feminine wiles to get what they wanted.”

  The two women looked at one another and laughed.

  Latmay scowled. “Ladies, I fail to see the humor in this. What do you mean ‘four?’ What are you planning?”

  Kama sobered and gave him an intense stare. “I have an idea. It is bold, and it could get all of us killed.”

  He sighed. “Then we’ll be no worse off than we are now.”

  “Precisely. Now, this is what we are going to do…”

  Amonmose sat with his advisors in the great room listening to the battle report from his chief deputy. The man stood, legs apart, his tall, stalwart frame at attention. “All soldiers have been accounted for,” he said. “Fifty-one are dead and seventy-four were injured.”

  “Have their wounds been tended to?” Amunmose asked.

  “Yes. Most are recovering with no ill effects.”

  “And our chariots? “

  “All one hundred have been recovered. Approximately twenty-five suffered the usual damage and have since been repaired.”

  “Good. Stay prepared. We never know when we may need them urgently.”

  The chief deputy nodded, then seemed to hesitate. “There is just one more thing. There was one chariot that had an unusual break in the wooden axle between the two wheels.”

  “Unusual?” Nadesh asked. “How so?”

  “It was not a normal break, jagged from
the stress of impact. It appeared to have been purposely severed. And…” He took a deep breath before continuing. “Some of the spokes on one wheel had been removed.”

  “Why is this so odd?” Meketen asked. “Cogs are frequently lost, causing the spokes to loosen.”

  “True, but each chariot was inspected before battle. There were no loose or missing spokes.”

  Meketen’s eyes narrowed. “Perhaps you missed one.”

  The man shook his head. “Not likely. Especially considering the fact that this particular chariot belonged to the Pharaoh.” He looked directly at Amonmose. “I personally inspected it before battle.”

  “Are you suggesting my chariot was tampered with?” Amomose asked, shocked.

  “I am.”

  Nadesh frowned. “How can you be certain it belonged to Amonmose?”

  “The First Charioteer’s shield was still securely fastened to the side.”

  Silence filled the room as the implication of what the commander was saying sunk in. Finally, Amonmose spoke. “Thank you, for your report, commander. You are free to leave. However,” he said, “you are to discuss this information with no one else. Do you understand?”

  The commander nodded. “Yes. On my life, I pledge to you that no one else will learn of this.”

  Amonmose sat back somberly as he watched the man leave. A sandstorm of emotions spiraled through him. Could the commander be right? Could someone have deliberately tampered with his chariot? Did someone want him dead? Whoever it was had nearly succeeded.

  He stared uneasily at his advisors. It had to be someone close to him with access to the chariots. But who? He shook his head, confused. He had not a clue. But one thing was certain: He had to be more cautious now than ever.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Five days had passed since the Pharaoh’s royal mandate, and women from Egypt’s finest cities to its most remote outposts arrived by the masses. They were led to a great room, where a lavish feast was offered for their enjoyment.

  There were platters of succulent duck, roasted pig, and curried goat. The tantalizing smells of fresh perch, mullet, and sun-dried catfish filled the air. More exotic dishes included pigeons stuffed with sweet onions and figs; wild geese smothered in a tangy sauce of garlic and honey; and roasted lamb with cabbage and imported apples.

  Smaller tables were overflowing with pomegranates, dates, peaches, melons, cucumbers, turnips, beets, lentils, chickpeas and beans. Anyone with a sweet tooth could help themselves to the tables laden with raisin bread, sweet cakes, and honey. It seemed no expense had been spared. Nadesh watched the stream of females that poured into the room and smirked. There were many beautiful women here today. They had come from far and wide, in all shapes and sizes. Some had come willingly. Others came because they had no choice. If he were Pharaoh, he certainly knew which one of these beauties he would choose for nothing so respectable as marriage. He already had two unfulfilling wives.

  Nadesh eyed one of the women that passed by him. One night between her legs would be worth suffering any disfavor from his wives. He licked his lips. Any other time, he would have approached her, but today, he had to remain focused. There was only one woman he wanted Amonmose to notice.

  He searched the room until he found her. Zahra laughed and threw her head back, her cinnamon colored hair swept gracefully from side to side. He called Zahra his niece, but she was niece to his sister’s husband. He’d met her at a family gathering, and he was immediately struck by her beauty. His wives’ homely looks paled in comparison.

  He’d considered bedding her, but it was much too dangerous. If his wives to find out, one or both could divorce him, and he’d be forced to financially compensate them. He would have to return each wife’s dowry, all of her personal effects that she brought into the marriage, and any funds given to him at the beginning of the marriage for her maintenance. Not only would he be embarrassed, he would be damn near penniless.

  Instead, Nadesh befriended Zahra and kept her around in case he needed her. He soon learned that her greedy ambition rivaled her stunning beauty. It was a deadly combination, but one that could work in his favor. With Zahra as queen, he could ensure not only his position, but also his continued wealth for many years to come. Now, all he had to do was get Amonmose to notice her

  Latmay’s heart was palpitating. He hoped Kama’s plan would work. Being a doctor, he’d spent all morning at the temple, praying for their success. If they were discovered, it was certain death. He was not afraid of dying, but to die in vain was another matter all together.

  As he made his way down the familiar dark, damp hallways, a mysterious figure shrouded in long, dark robes and an oversized hood followed him closely. The person nearly blended in with the abysmal surroundings.

  The guard looked up as Latmay approached. “I am glad you made it so quickly,” he told Latmay. “The young woman is feeling very ill again today.”

  Latmay nodded. He had been anxiously waiting all day for Kama’s summons. “If you don’t mind, I’ll need some privacy to examine her.”

  “Of course.” As the guard prepared to unlock the door, the dark figure stepped from the shadows. The guard caught the movement and turned suddenly, grabbing his sword. “Who’s that?” he demanded.

  Latmay casually looked over his shoulder. “Oh, you needn’t be worried,” he said easily. “It is only my assistant.”

  The guard eyed the shapeless form suspiciously. The person, a woman based on the kohl-rimmed eyes, was draped from head to toe in dark garments, her head covered and her face veiled. “Why is she dressed in that manner?” he asked.

  Latmay shrugged. “When she was a young girl, she was burned in a fire. The entire right side of her body and her face were left horribly disfigured.” He leaned in and whispered to the guard. “She is very sensitive about it, so she keeps herself covered.”

  The guard’s eyes narrowed. “I will see these burns for myself.” He inclined his head toward the woman. “Remove your hood.”

  Latmay frowned. “Is that really necessary?”

  The guard’s fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword. “Yes.”

  The woman seemed to hesitate for a moment. Then, she tentatively raised both arms and pulled her hood away from her face to reveal lumpy scars on the right side of her forehead and cheekbone. The effect was gruesome.

  The guard released his grip on his sword. “You may proceed,” he said.

  The woman did not speak, but instead gave him an embarrassed look before covering her face and head again.

  Inside the cell, the four of them stared silently at each other.

  “Well,” Latmay prompted. “It’s now or never.”

  The cloaked figure hastily pulled her robes off, and Kama immediately hugged her. “Dyzet…”

  “I missed you so much,” Dyzet whispered. “I had no idea you were being confined here. Thank the gods you are in good health.”

  “I have missed you as well,” Kama replied. “But we’ve no time for reunions. We must get changed quickly.”

  Mutema peered at Dyzet. “How did you make your face appear disfigured?”

  The young woman puffed with pride. “I melted wax onto a piece of parchment, and then while it was still warm, I applied it to my face and molded it against my skin. Now, it has hardened, and it will stay put until I peel it away.”

  “How clever!” Mutema touched the wax on Dyzet’s cheek.

  “Latmay warned me that the guards might demand to see my face, so I had to be prepared.”

  Kama hugged her again. “I am honored to call you my dearest friend. Thank you so much for risking yourself for me.”

  Tears welled up in Dyzet’s eyes. “I would gladly risk my life to help someone as deserving as you.”

  As Latmay kept watch, Kama and Dyzet switched clothes. Beneath her robes, Dyzet carried everything Kama needed. Within minutes, the transformation was complete.

  Dyzet took her place in Kama’s bed and covered herself from head to toe. An
yone peeking in would only see a figure huddled under the blankets. It was the perfect ruse.

  Latmay hurried them along. “Ladies, we must go. We don’t have much longer.”

  Kama embraced her mother quickly. They had already said their goodbyes last night. They both knew that if Kama’s plan was not successful, they might never see each other again. Kama felt a range of emotions coursing through her. She squeezed her mother’s hand reassuringly and gave her a silent nod of encouragement before veiling her face and covering her head with the large hood. She took a deep breath and stepped into the hallway. The guard was nowhere to be seen.

  “He must have gone to relieve himself,” Latmay said. “Let us hurry.”

  He took Kama’s arm and quickly led her down the dim corridor. Kama knew that once they made it to the upper levels, they would not be stopped. Latmay’s presence in the palace was commonplace. No one would even think to question him or his “assistant.”

  They had just reached the end of the corridor when a voice called out, “Halt!”

  Kama wanted to run, but she knew they would not make it far. Besides, she was with child. If she tripped and fell, she could lose the baby. She steeled herself as not one, but two guards approached, pointing at her.

  “Is that her?” one of the guards asked.

  “Yes, that’s her.” The guard from before gave them a peevish grin. “My friend wants to see the woman’s face.”

  Fear shot through Kama’s body. Now, she would surely be exposed, and both Latmay and Dyzet would certainly be killed.

  “Please,” Latmay pleaded. “There is no need for this.”

  “Take your hood off,” the second guard ordered Kama.

  Latmay moved to stand in front of her. “How can you ask this of her? This is an insult. She is a human being, worthy of respect.”

  Without even meaning to, Kama began weeping. Her shoulders hunched in true sorrow. Her sobs echoed through the dark corridors, sounding like a wounded animal stranded in the darkness.

  Taking her cue, Latmay put his arm around her. “Please don’t cry, dear. They will not hurt you. They just want to look at you.”