Tyema stared. “Are you serious?”
“Pharaoh has given permission,” Sahure assured her. “He and I spoke of the matter yesterday. You’re also going to need grooms.”
“When the chariot is complete and ready to deliver, I can arrange for temporary stable workers,” Edekh said. “Probably best if you find local men to care for the horses long term.”
“Or perhaps your grooms can train some of my temple staff,” Tyema said. “Hotepre has a few younger nephews who might prefer to work with horses rather than crocodiles or cattle. My brother-in-law, the commander of the town guard, has a chariot and a competent groom, so I’ll get his opinion as well.”
“Now the next steps are planned out, allow me to escort you, your niece, and our son for a walk in the gardens before the midday meal perhaps?” Sahure held out his hand. “Shake off memories of the recent unpleasantness?”
“I’d be delighted.” She wanted nothing more than an escape from the small room and a chance to breathe fresh air.
Edekh cleared his throat. “I’m afraid the walk will have to wait for a few moments longer. I need to speak with Lady Tyema alone. I’ve a message from Pharaoh for her ears only.”
Obviously displeased by this announcement excluding him, Sahure exchanged surprised glances with Tyema before bowing and leaving the room, closing the door behind him.
Heart beating faster, Tyema stared at Edekh. “How may I serve the Great One?”
“Pharaoh wished me to relay that he and the queen have established a full schedule of dinners, cruises and other events to fill your days, now the crocodile dedication is complete. He said this will allow you to meet and observe all members of his court closely and as rapidly as possible.” Edekh paused, raising one eyebrow. “He seemed to feel you’d find this useful in some manner?”
I wonder how much Edekh knows of my true reason for being here? And clearly Pharaoh loses patience, for which I can’t blame him. “Should I refuse to go to the chariot makers today, then?”
“No, I don’t think cancelling the chariot buying trip is necessary. Pharaoh has approved the commission after all. There will be a large banquet tonight, tomorrow’s plan is spending the day in leisure with the queen and her ladies-in-waiting, followed by an intimate dinner—”
“I need to visit the temple of Sobek tomorrow morning, to check on my crocodile,” she said. “I gave my word to follow up within the week of his dedication, and then my duty to Sobek as far as the crocodile’s welfare is concerned will be fully discharged. But otherwise the schedule of activities sounds wonderful.”
Edekh stared at her, lips twitching as he allowed himself to grin. “Your words are fair, but why does your voice suggest we’ve consigned you to torture, or perhaps prison?”
She raised her chin. “While it’s true I don’t attend many gatherings in Ibis Nome, I’m in Thebes now, and of course I’ll do as Pharaoh wishes.” And it’s true with all these opportunities he’s providing to observe the court, I should pinpoint the sorcerer more quickly. I just have to focus on my duty and try not to give in to my personal fears of unknown people and public events. And then I can take my child and go home. Leaving Sahure yet again, for the last time.
“You didn’t allow me to finish the list of enticements. The day after tomorrow the queen takes a party, including you, for a sail on the Nile in her barge, followed by another state dinner.” He studied her face, a quizzical look in his eyes. Tyema tried to hide her frightened, rebellious thoughts deep inside and show only a bland expression. Tapping the table with his fingers, Edekh said, “I’ll spare you the rest of the calendar for now. Perhaps it’s best if I dole out the treats a day at a time.”
“Yes, better not to overwhelm me with joy,” she said, with a sigh. “Thank you, for all your help and support.”
“If I know our friend Sahure, he’s pacing a hole in the floor out there. Not patient, is our captain. Go then, enjoy the walk in the garden and later the process of ordering a chariot built to your specifications, which will be a ten-day sensation in Thebes, believe me. I don’t think Pharaoh has ever granted permission to a woman to own a chariot before.” Edekh rose and took her hand to assist her from her chair.
If I didn’t want my own chariot so badly, I’d bow out of the meeting, to avoid being even more talked about and noticed than I already am. But no one in Ibis can construct a chariot or train horses properly to pull it. Tyema brought a smile from the depths of her unhappy soul and preceded Edekh into the corridor where, as predicted, a disgruntled Sahure was pacing.
*****
Tyema was in restored spirits by the evening. Sahure had exerted himself to be amusing and charming while the two of them and Renebti walked in the gardens, taking turns carrying the baby. They revisited Pharaoh’s zoo, where Sahure pointed out the animals he personally had supplied to the menagerie and told stories of life in the Southern Oasis.
The visit to the chariot maker and the military stables had been fascinating, and her order for a chariot bearing Sobek’s cartouche had been placed. Much discussion had been required, and argument between the master chariot builder and Sahure. Eventually it had been decided she would receive a scaled down version of the standard war chariot. It was going to be at least a month before her chariot was built and then a few more weeks for it and the horses to be shipped to Ibis, but now her dream was becoming reality, she could be content.
Having bathed and changed into another dress from the queen, Tyema was trying to convince herself she was ready to brave the banquet chamber again. When Sahure was admitted by the guards, she was relieved to see no flickers of the black magic in the air around him. Thinking back, she realized there’s been none connected to him all day.
Nodding to Renebti, Sahure addressed Tyema. “Are you ready?”
“No, but I know I must be, so we might as well go.” She picked up her ostrich feather fan, kissed the baby on the forehead and followed Sahure from the room.
As before, Tyema was placed at the table with the younger ladies-in-waiting, but at least now she felt she had some acquaintance with Niadiamhet in particular, although seeing the ever present flickers of black magic influence or presence around her and Baufratet was disconcerting. There were several newcomers at the table, including a young woman who was introduced as the daughter of a Minoan diplomatic attaché assigned to Pharaoh’s court. Tyema was disturbed to see flickers of some other variation of black magic around her, a curious gray aura shot through with darker black tendrils. Surely this person can’t be the sorceress I’m seeking? Maybe the bracelet is detecting less than savory aspects of her worship of her gods?
“And how long has Jadikiria been here in Thebes?” she asked, leaning over close to Nidiamhet when there was a lull in the general conversation.
“Oh, she’s only recently arrived,” Nidiamhet, who seemed overly friendly with the Minoan, answered. “Baufratet and I want her to become a lady in waiting with us—she’s entertaining, knows such wonderful new stories—but so far the queen prefers to have only Egyptian attendants.”
Eyeing the strange aura around the Minoan, Tyema thought the queen was being wise, even without the additional knowledge she herself possessed. But Jadikiria hasn’t been here long enough to have anything to do with the ripples of sorcery Sobek was worried about. Although I’ll mention her when I make my final report.
The troupe of dancers in the center of the room finished their graceful, swirling dance to enthusiastic applause and scampered off. Tyema noticed no other group of performers moved to take their place, and the room felt oddly quiet without the background of music. At the first banquet she’d attended, the stream of entertainment had been constant, no interruptions, each person eager to have their moment demonstrating their skills to Pharaoh and his court.
Edekh walked into the center of the floor, pounded his staff on the floor and announced, “Sobek’s high priestess Lady Tyema has agreed to delight pharaoh’s ears with traditional songs from the Lower Nile this eveni
ng.”
There were oohs and ahs and a smattering of applause. Tyema thought she’d misheard, but as she stared, blushing and dizzy, the crowd was a sea of beaming, nodding courtiers. She could see Nat-re-Akhte and his queen smiling at the head table on the dais. Tyema pushed her chair back, feeling her chest growing tight. “No, I—there’s some mistake. I can’t sing tonight.” Baufratet’s expression was a mixture of triumph and secretiveness and Tyema had no doubt who had created this nightmare for her. I wonder if Jemkhufu shared his secrets with her before he was banished? The room was whirling around her now so fast she was afraid she was going to pass out or throw up or both. She regretted the few morsels she’d eaten.
Nidiamhet patted her arm. “Such an honor, to sing for Pharaoh. Lucky you!”
Tyema tried to respond to the compliment but couldn’t focus on words.
Suddenly Sahure was at her side. “What’s the matter? Are you ill? Pharaoh waits.”
She clutched at his sleeve as if she were drowning. “I can’t—”
“If it please you, Great One,” Sahure said, pulling her to her feet, his grip impossible to resist. “A singer’s voice is her instrument and Lady Tyema requires but a few moments to prepare herself for the concert. I believe she expected to sing a little later in the evening. A misunderstanding.”
“She may take all the time she requires,” Pharaoh answered graciously. “Edekh, show the lady to a suitable side chamber and bring her anything she needs.”
“Some honeyed wine perhaps, to soothe her throat,” Sahure said as Edekh walked to join them.
It seemed to Tyema her exit from the banquet hall took hours, with all eyes upon her, but in reality it was only a few moments before she’d been escorted to a private room and left alone with Sahure. He helped her sit in a gilt chair with feet in the shape of a gazelle’s dainty legs, kneeling by her side as she lowered her head and tried to breathe.
“I—I can’t sing in public,” she said, wiping her brow.
He frowned. “You sang yesterday well enough, in front of thousands at the temple.”
“I sang for Sobek, in his service, in my official role as his priestess,” she answered, her voice escalating.
He put his finger to his lips, shushing her. “We don’t want them hearing you in the banquet hall.”
“This is me tonight, Tyema, the little girl from Ta’sobeksef, daughter of the village scribe, not the priestess wrapped in the power of Sobek.” Tears poured down her cheeks. I’m not making sense—I’m sure he thinks my wits have become disordered. “With all those people staring at me, whispering about me, I can hardly stand without fainting, much less remember the words to any songs.” She put her hand on her chest, feeling the telltale constriction worsening. “I can’t breathe—how can I carry a tune?”
“Oh, sweetheart, I think I begin to understand. Why did you volunteer, then?” He held her close, smoothing her hair.
“I didn’t. I’d never do such a thing. I wouldn’t even be at the banquet tonight except—”
“Except?”
I can’t tell him I braved the banquet to search out the source of black magic. Sobek forbade me to discuss it with anyone but Pharaoh. Tyema shook her head.
Edekh returned, followed by a servant bearing a tray with the requested wine. Pausing on the threshold, he glanced from Tyema to Sahure and back again. “Are you ill, my lady?”
Tyema hid her face in Sahure’s shoulder, embarrassed to have the lofty Scribe see her in such distress. This evening gets worse and worse.
“She’ll be fine,” Sahure answered, rubbing her back. “Leave the wine and let me get her ready. Please tell Pharaoh we’ll be there in a few moments.”
Edekh bowed and retreated, closing the doors behind him.
“Don’t worry about him, he’s a good friend of mine and he likes you. He won’t mention anything being amiss.” Sahure handed her a mug of the wine. “Listen to me, you’re going to have to go back in there and sing.”
She pushed the drink away and shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Well, however this misunderstanding arose, Pharaoh has been promised a concert. Even a Great One as kindly and understanding as Nat-re-Akhte may be in private won’t tolerate an insult in public.” He wrapped her fingers around the mug and raised it to her lips. “You must sing.”
She drank the wine and raised her tear stained face to him. “How will I get through it? I don’t want to be a disgrace.”
“Sing to me, sing only to me,” Sahure said. “Pretend we’re in the garden back at your temple. Or on the beach along the Nile. Sing what you sang for me on those occasions. I’ll stay in your line of sight the whole time.” He took the cloth sitting under the wine and gently wiped her face, trying to repair the damage to her makeup. “Sing two songs and in case he asks for an encore, have a third one ready. Then sit down and I’ll get you out of the banquet hall as soon as I can.”
Clinging to his sleeve, she took a deep breath. “You promise?”
“I swear, my oath as an officer.” He kissed her forehead. “You’d better warm up your voice.”
After taking another deep drink of the fortifying wine, Tyema stood. She smoothed her dress, closed her eyes and tried to picture her own garden. Experimentally she sang a few notes, which echoed pleasantly in the small room. Before she knew it, she’d sung half of the hymn of the inundation.
“Sounds fine.” Sahure hugged her. “Are you ready?”
She sipped a little more wine, welcoming the warmth, and nodded. Sobek, please lend me strength.
He took her hand and escorted her back to the large chamber. After Edekh got the crowd’s attention and announced she was ready to sing, a hush fell. Sahure escorted her into the center of the room. Detaching her hand from his, he bowed and walked to sit among the diners, but close to the head table, so she was able to keep him in her peripheral vision as promised. Tyema drew in a deep breath, crossed her arms over her chest and bowed to Pharaoh and the queen. She sang, trying to tell herself she was alone in her own garden, with only the royal couple and Sahure to hear. Her voice was wobbling during the opening verse. Clenching her hand in the fabric of her dress, tapping one toe on the marble floor, she made herself slow down to the appropriate tempo and lost herself in the music. She finished the first song and rushed into the second without stopping, afraid to lose the moment, and was surprised by the applause at the end of the last verse. Realizing she’d closed her eyes at some point, she opened them, focusing on Sahure, whose face bore an encouraging grin. He nodded.
“Lovely, Lady Tyema,” Pharaoh said. “You’ve an exceptional voice.”
“It’s kind of you to say so, Great One,” Tyema answered. Remembering Sahure’s advice, she decided to offer the encore. After all, my voice is fully warmed up now and the breath moves freely in my chest. “If it pleases you, I have one more song prepared, a seafaring tune from the Tale of the Shipwrecked Sailor.”
Smiling, Pharaoh gestured. “By all means, I’d enjoy hearing it.”
She kept her eyes open this time and gave the rollicking song her all. The audience was clapping along by the time she reached the last verse and as she crossed her arms and bowed in respect again at the end, the applause was thunderous. True to his word, Sahure reappeared at her side and escorted her to her seat as a new troupe of dancers somersaulted and tumbled into the space she’d just occupied.
“Well done,” he whispered as he handed her into her chair. “Do you want to stay after all?”
“Oh please, all I want is to retire to my room and lie down,” she answered, trembling with reaction to the performance. I’m just glad I survived and didn’t disgrace myself or Sobek. “Will you take me there?”
“You have to wait until Pharaoh and the queen have left the gathering,” he said. “Hang on, have some more wine. But don’t get tipsy.” He waggled a cautionary finger at her.”I’ll escort you gladly once the evening is done.”
He made his way back to his own companions. Tyema drank w
ine and accepted congratulations from the women around her and other members of the court who came to pay her compliments. In between accepting praise, she stared at the dancers without seeing them, desperate to escape the crowd and the noise. Her head was pounding. Baufratet sat in her chair scowling, drinking wine as if it were water. Tyema eyed the other woman with misgivings. I hope she isn’t going to make another scene, now that her plan for my downfall has gone awry.
Unnoticed as he approached her, Edekh tapped her on the shoulder, causing Tyema to startle. “The queen has requested you sing for her in private.”
“Now?” Tyema was confused.
The Chief Scribe pulled her chair away from the table, making it seem he was merely being courteous, subtly forcing her to rise. “Indeed.”
“But I was told not to leave until Pharaoh had departed—”
“You may leave at the queen’s command,” he said with a laugh, taking her elbow. He steered her out a side door, into a long passageway. Queen Ashayet came down the hall, accompanied by her guards, fan bearers, and maids.
Tyema bowed her head as the queen walked up to her. “It will be my pleasure to sing whatever your majesty desires to hear.”
Ashayet laughed and put a gentle finger under Tyema’s chin, lifting her face. “Misery was written all over your expressive face, my dear. I told Pharaoh we needed to let you retire early, in gratitude for your amazing performance,” she said, patting Tyema on the cheek as she might a young daughter. “Do you have a headache?”
Confused, Tyema looked from the scribe to the queen. “Indeed I do but—”
“Your songs were lovely and I hope to hear many more of them while you’re in Thebes, but for tonight, I command you to seek your bed. Edekh, ensure Lady Tyema a safe arrival at her rooms.”
Hand over his heart, he bowed low. “Yes, your majesty.”
Ashayet leaned closer. “I warned Sahure you might find life here in Thebes quite a bit different than the pace you’re used to in Ibis Nome. I think he begins to understand your qualms now. I pray to Isis the two of you can find some solution.” Straightening and stepping away from Tyema, the queen said in a louder voice, “Have the Royal Physician attend our guest with his best remedy for headache.”
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