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Magic of the Nile

Page 13

by Veronica Scott


  “I don’t know what things will be like in Thebes,” Tyema said. “I’ll do my best to ensure you have a good time, that it isn’t all tending the baby’s needs.”

  Her niece waved a careless hand and made a shushing sound. “Just having been there will surely be the highlight on the walls of my tomb someday. If I see Pharaoh with my own eyes, I’ll be satisfied. Blessed! And you know how much I adore your son. I hope my children will be as healthy, if I’m ever married and have a family.”

  “So how long have we been sailing?” Tyema knew the poppy syrup ordinarily gave her deep, dreamless sleep for several hours. And Seknehure would’ve been complaining loudly if she’d been unavailable to him longer than that.

  Confirming her unspoken estimate, Renebti said, “Three hours. Oh, the crocodile is doing well although the crew is scared to death of him.” She laughed. “Captain Djedefhor is still put out that you insisted the animal ride on deck.”

  Tyema eyed her, a bit concerned by the amusement she was showing over the captain’s annoyance. I hope my niece isn’t becoming too fascinated with Djedefhor. He’s too old for her and a sailor besides.

  As if her thoughts had summoned him, the captain knocked on the door jamb. “Just came to see how you’re doing, Lady Tyema. I’m happy to see you awake and calmer, shall we say?”

  “I apologize for my behavior earlier—”

  He waved off her earnest words. “Your niece explained you’d not had enough to eat today. I’m sure the movement of the boat was disorienting for someone who’s never sailed. And of course everyone knows you were kidnapped by the Hyksos as a child. Quite natural you’d be reminded of that unpleasant episode.” He stood taller and grinned. “Although I’m a bit insulted that my beautiful Swift reminded you of those clunker boats the enemy sailed.”

  Relieved to get past the embarrassing incident so easily, Tyema took a deep breath, resolving to exert utmost effort not to suffer another attack for the rest of this nightmare voyage. People could accept excuses for one breakdown, but sympathy would flee in a hurry if she let anyone—even Renebti—see how unsettled she was, being on a boat and totally out of her own sphere of iron control over events.

  “I don’t know how well acquainted you are with the nomarch’s chief wife?” Djedefhor cocked an eyebrow as he asked the question.

  “I’ve only met her once or twice. She’s very pleasant.” Tyema bounced Seknehure a bit against her shoulder, enjoying his chortles.

  “She hates to sail. Absolutely loathes being on the water. That’s why this cabin is built bigger than most, so she’d feel more comfortable. For her benefit I usually rig up a pavilion on the bow, so she can have privacy, catch the breezes, watch the scenery—”

  “Sounds wonderful,” Tyema said, feeling suddenly very cordial toward the nomarch’s wife.

  “I’ve been sitting there with the baby,” Renebti chimed in. “Jemkhufu and I played a game of senet. If you’re feeling better, aunt, please do come join us.”

  “The fresh river air will do you good,” Djedefhor said.

  “I need to check on my crocodile too.” The plan of going on deck was sounding more and more appealing to Tyema. Handing the baby to Renebti, she accepted a shawl in return, realizing with a warm rush of gratitude her niece had done some unpacking as well. “You take such good care of me,” she said, squeezing Renebti’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

  The captain escorted her on deck, his arm solicitously wrapped around her waist “until she got her sea legs”. Tyema detached herself from his grasp as soon as possible, discovering it was pleasant to be in the afternoon sunlight and the fresh air.

  Djedefhor took her subtle rejection of his tentative advance in good spirits, grinning broadly as he accompanied her first to check on the crocodile and then to sit in the patch of shade in the pavilion. “We’ll be pulling into shore before sundown,” he said. “We never sail at night, too many sand bars and other obstacles in the Nile. You, your niece and the infant can sleep on the ship or onshore in a tent, whichever seems more appealing to you. I post guards all around of course.”

  “I challenge you to a game of senet, Aunt,” Renebti said, rattling the throwing sticks. “Pass the time until dinner?”

  The captain left the ladies to their game, going off to supervise his crew as they adjusted the sails. Tyema set the baby in the center of a soft blanket between herself and Renebti. Putting her hand over her eyes, she watched a flock of colorful kingfishers soar and dive over the Nile, catching their dinner. The ship was gliding past a stand of gray-green tamarack trees on the shore and she caught a whiff of deep evergreen scent. Maybe this voyage won’t be as arduous as I’d feared.

  One of the sailors let out a shout, pointing urgently at the river. Scooping up the baby, Tyema and Renebti joined everyone at the port rail, to see a vee-shaped formation of ten crocodiles swimming alongside, keeping perfect alignment with the ship.

  “Seems your god feels we need an escort,” the captain said, leaning on the rail next to Tyema. “I’m honored. Never seen that before.”

  “Oh, Aunt, it must be a sign, an omen that we’re protected on this journey,” Renebti exclaimed.

  Tyema nodded, trying not to let the memories of the past crowd into her mind. Surely Sobek was subtly reassuring her that at least this portion of her trip would be safe. Time enough to think about what lay ahead in Thebes when she arrived there.

  Chapter Four

  “Now what?” Tyema asked Captain Djedefhor several weeks later, after he’d displayed amazing seamanship in bringing the Swift safely through the crowded Theban harbor, deftly steering her between fat merchantmen and sleek warships, avoiding pesky little fishing boats that swarmed like mosquitoes. The yacht now rested next to the pier designated for visiting dignitaries, securely tied down, and Tyema’s voyage was at an end.

  “I’ve sent word of your arrival to Thebes’ harbor master. He’ll notify Pharaoh’s Chief Scribe.” The captain’s voice was soothing. “Don’t worry, I’m sure the palace has all the arrangements made for you and your interesting cargo.”

  Mind at ease on the issue of telling some authority she’d arrived, Tyema addressed her crocodile keeper. “You might as well go ahead and crate the animal for the next phase of the journey.”

  “He’ll be happy when he reaches the temple breeding ponds and doesn’t have to travel any farther,” Hotepre said, beckoning to his helpers. The three men walked off toward the stern of the ship, where the purple bellied predator was tethered.

  Murmuring her thanks to the captain, Tyema reentered her cabin, taking the fussy baby to nurse. She preferred sitting in their private, screened-off area at the bow, but now the ship was tied to a dock in the busy harbor, other boats moored close by, she felt there were far too many eyes watching. Nursing little Seknehure until he slept, she sat and watched him frown as he snored. So like his father, with a strong face and stubborn jaw. Leaning against the bulkhead, she supposed this might be one of her last peaceful moments while in the capital. I wish I could put the crocodile ashore in his crate, order the anchor raised and sail home now. So many trials ahead and always the task Sobek needs accomplished haunts my dreams. Who am I to go up against black magic? But she’d told the Great One she’d search out the troublemaker for him and now here she was in Thebes. No use to think of fleeing.

  A knock at the door interrupted her peaceful reverie and Jemkhufu poked his head into the cabin, eyes wide with excitement. “You’re needed on deck, my lady. Pharaoh has sent an escort to guide us to the palace.”

  “We’re to stay at the palace?” Rearranging her dress, she rose, handing the baby to her niece Renebti, who’d slipped into the tiny cabin around the scribe as soon as he’d opened the door.

  “So it seems.” Jemkhufu stood aside for her to walk up the stairs to the deck in front of him. “I think you might know the officer in charge.”

  And that was all the warning Tyema received before she was face to face with Sahure for the first time in over
a year. Heart pounding in her chest, breath catching, she stopped in mid step, Jemkhufu bumping into her back.

  “My lady.” Sahure bowed but his eyes never left her face. His own was set in stern lines, giving nothing away about how he felt at seeing her again.

  “You—you’re back from the Southern Oasis,” she stammered, feeling the warmth rise in her cheeks as she blushed. She was sure he could probably hear her heart beating, the way seeing him again was affecting her. He seems the same, maybe a bit more careworn in appearance, around the eyes. A difficult year in the desert, surely. What’s he going to think about the baby? What will he say to me? What do I say to him? Her thoughts were all over the place, like the gulls swooping over the harbor. Words suitable to utter refused to come to mind. She had to clench her hand on the railing to keep from touching him. For a moment she simply stared.

  “And you’ve come to Thebes, the place you said you’d never visit,” he answered. His eyes flicked to Renebti, standing on the bottom stair behind the scribe and holding the baby. Glancing at Tyema, he raised his eyebrows, lips compressed in a thin line.

  Clearing her throat painfully, she rushed into speech. “I can explain—”

  “No explanation to me is required. At the moment.” His tone left it abundantly clear there would have to be discussion in the near future. “We should make haste to the palace. Pharaoh has decreed the crocodile will be housed in a suitable, fenced pond at his private zoo until the procession and ceremonies occur. A suite of rooms at the palace has been set aside for your party.” He stepped aside to allow her to step onto the deck.

  “Very kind of him, I’m sure.” Tyema gestured at the large cedar crate sitting near the ship’s stern, surrounded by Hotepre and his assistants. Thumping noises could be heard as the crocodile took exception to being enclosed after ten days of relative freedom. The crate shifted on the deck as the creature vented his displeasure from inside. “The animal is in there. We boxed him in as soon as we reached our mooring.”

  Apparently uninterested in the state of the crocodile, Sahure sounded bored. “If the logistics for the animal are organized, we can leave when you’re ready.”

  “Oh, I’m ready now,” she assured him.

  He stared at her, his gaze traveling from her head to her toes. Brow furrowed, he glanced across the crowded harbor for a moment before taking one step to grab her by the elbow and pull her aside from her retinue. His voice was low and stern. “You can’t seriously be planning to proceed through the streets of Thebes like this?”

  “Like what?” Tyema was bewildered.

  “In your plain travel dress? With your obviously rural companions and servants at your side? Did you bring no other priestesses? No musicians or dancers?”

  Growing more bewildered by the moment, Tyema shook her head. “I left my staff to continue the required rituals of worship at our temple. And why should I need the musicians and dancers? You know we have only a small troupe. I assumed the temple here would supply performers for the procession.”

  He bit his lip, closing his eyes for a brief moment before glaring at her, jaw clenched. “Tell me you at least brought ceremonial robes, wig and crown?”

  “Well of course, they’ll be needed for the dedication of the new crocodile to his service here.” Irritated, she yanked her elbow from his loose clasp. “What is the matter?” Djedefhor made as if to come to her assistance but she shook her head slightly, warning him off.

  “Tyema, this is Thebes.” Ignoring the momentary byplay with the ship’s captain, Sahure gestured at the bustling city beyond the waterfront. “You can’t just walk around in your everyday dress, like an ordinary person. We’re not among villagers who’ve known you your entire life. You’re here as a High Priestess of Sobek in the Ibis Nome. All eyes are going to be on you as we proceed from the harbor to the palace. It’s common knowledge the high priest of Sobek here has his nose out of joint because Pharaoh insisted you had to supply the new bull crocodile for the temple, and lead the ceremonies. You owe it to Pharaoh to present yourself in the best possible light, and believe me when I say wearing a patched dress and a pair of sandals with a mended strap don’t make the case.”

  She was silent for a moment, shocked by his vehemence. It had literally never occurred to her anyone in Thebes would care what she wore or how many retainers she had, much less that anything to do with her could reflect on Pharaoh. Along with her dismay, a flicker of sadness swept through her mind. I was so right. I could never be the mistress of Sahure’s house, having to worry about protocol and appearances. These things seemed so petty and unimportant. Swallowing hard, pushing away her anger at his lecture because she had to admit he knew more than she did about Thebes, she asked, “What should I do? I don’t want to cause Pharaoh any embarrassment.”

  Face grim, eyes narrowed, he said, “It’s all politics in Thebes, which you need to remember while you’re here. Don’t trust too easily, either. Nat-re-Akhte is more powerful in his own right than most pharaohs have been since the time of the pyramid builders, but still there are endless games around him. I don’t understand why my uncle the nomarch didn’t warn you, prepare you a bit better, when he lent you his ship.” Sahure gestured at the deck on which they stood.

  Remembering the sad message from Sobek she’d had to deliver to the nomarch about his rapidly declining health, Tyema sighed. “Your uncle has other things on his mind.”

  “Yes, I received a private message from him and the knowledge weighs on my heart. My uncle is a good man.” The expression on Sahure’s face softened for a moment, his brown eyes warming. “Will you take my advice today?”

  She nodded. “With gratitude.”

  Pointing at the stairway she’d emerged from, he said, “Go below, change into the best clothing you have, the ceremonial robes if there’s no other choice, and let’s get going on this trip to the palace. We can’t do anything about your retainers and servants today, but at least you can appear as someone to be reckoned with. The first impression is important at court.”

  “I’ll be quick.” She hurried across the deck, calling to her niece, who was waiting by the gangplank with the baby, to come help her. She asked Djedefhor to order her trunks, which had already been packed and brought on deck, carried into the cabin again. Going below, followed by her retainers bringing the baskets and crates, she managed to change in record time, donning her finest white linen sheath, with gold embroidery at the hem, and her ceremonial crown—a smaller version of the one Sobek himself wore, a golden sun orb, with fine white ostrich plumes on either side. Around her neck she draped the six large emerald Tears of the god, set into a turquoise-and-gold beaded collar. Her best sandals were still new, smelling of freshly tanned leather, and stiff on her feet, the thong between her toes likely to chafe, but by the time she was ready to return to the deck, Tyema felt confident in her appearance and her dignity. She’d regained some of her composure while dressing.

  All right, now I’ve seen him and yes, he’s every bit as handsome as I remembered and there are so many things I long to talk to him about, to ask, but he seems so distant, so formal. I guess our angry parting still burns for him. And for all I know he’s married and I’m going to have to meet his wife. Well, I gave him his first child, no other can have the honor. The fierceness of her pride in bearing his son surprised her. Lost in thought, she climbed the short staircase to the deck.

  As soon as he saw her, Sahure bowed, a small smile on his lips. “Now you’re ready to travel through the city, my lady. Well done.” He held out his hand to escort her off the ship and down the gangplank to the dock, where his men had been waiting all this time.

  “Oh, Nahkti and Senbi!” Tyema broke free of his clasp, pulled her formal skirts up to her knees with one hand for more freedom of movement and hurried to where the two chariot horses stood, held by a groom. “I missed you, my lovelies.” She stroked their glossy necks, murmuring her apology for not having any treats as they nuzzled her. When Sahure came up behind her, she sai
d, “May I go in the chariot with you? I won’t ask to drive—”

  At his renewed frown, she bit her lip and fell silent. I’ve got to be less impulsive in his presence. Here in Thebes he’s not the same carefree man I knew in Ibis Nome. Allowing her dress to fall to its normal appearance, she toyed with the largest emerald in the collar, the cool smoothness of the gem soothing to the touch.

  “Pharaoh has sent this fine litter for you,” he said, gesturing off to the side where the impressive, gilded conveyance sat, riotous black and white ostrich plumes at each corner, plump red cushions awaiting her pleasure. Two fan bearers prepared to walk on either side. The litter was open, with no curtains. “He does you honor, High Priestess.”

  “Oh.” Tyema knew her smile faltered. She leaned closer to him. “I suppose priestesses don’t ride in chariots in Thebes?”

  Biting his lip as if to hold back a grin, he shook his head and extended a hand. “Allow me.” He led her to the litter and assisted her in gracefully taking her place, with a final instruction. “It’ll be best if you endeavor to smile, seem pleased to be here and wave to the crowd as we go.”

  The burly men who had been waiting picked the litter up with an energy that took her breath away. Startled, she gripped the sides of the conveyance, afraid of being tumbled in the dust. Sahure mounted his chariot and the column set off, with her companions and the boxed up crocodile behind, carried by the men from her temple, using lifting poles inserted through the metal hoops set at the corners of the crate. Tyema checked to make sure her niece and the baby were safely in the middle of the group before giving all her attention to Sahure, handling his high spirited horses. We’re going to have to talk about Seknehure. Why didn’t I raise the subject of our child while we had some privacy on the ship? Because Sahure took me by surprise and then he gave me no chance, with all his chiding about my appearance. And he clearly didn’t want to talk about personal matters when she was supposed to be on her way to the palace.

 

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