Sahure waited on the other side, in an everyday uniform. “Ah good, I was hoping you’d be up already. I remember you always rose with the dawn at Ta’sobeksef. May I come in? I brought breakfast.” He indicated a linen sack in his right hand.
She moved aside. “Keep your voice down, the baby’s finally fallen asleep—he had a rough night.”
“Poor little man.” Sahure walked quietly past her, going to the cradle and peering at his now-snoring son. “Is he ill? Teething?”
“Teething, I think,” she said, surprised yet again to learn this warrior knew so much of the ailments of babies. “The royal physician gave me soothing ointment to rub on his gums and eventually he drifted off to dream. The guards summoned the doctor for me, without asking. I think they wearied of hearing the crying.”
Sahure laughed quietly. “Undoubtedly. Will he need to nurse soon?”
Blushing a bit at the intimate question, she shook her head and went to sit. “I just fed him, after the medicine dulled the pain enough. You’ve timed your visit well, but why are you here? You must know the palace steward brings Renebti and me a breakfast daily which is big enough to feed our entire village.”
“Breakfast was just an excuse, although you’re welcome to what I brought.” He spilled some fruit and a roll onto the nearest table. “I want to show you something.”
Tyema picked up the freshly baked roll and nibbled at the edge. “All right, but I’ve seen fruit before.”
He chuckled at the small joke. “No, we’ll have to leave the palace and drive a short distance. Unless you’re too tired. We could do this another day, but I’ve waited so long to share this with you.”
She considered. She was tired but knew she couldn’t go back to sleep. And it might be a good thing to have some private time with Sahure, outside the palace, away from all the eyes and ears. “Are we going in the chariot?”
He nodded. “Absolutely.”
“Won’t seeing me in a chariot upset the populace?” She was only half teasing, but the temptation of a ride had her persuaded to venture out with him.
“It’s early, no one who matters will see us. Please come.”
Unable to resist the appeal on his face, she nodded. “Let me get dressed and warn Renebti to listen for the baby.”
“Dress simply and bring a cloak,” he said. “It’ll be a bit chilly riding in the chariot at this early hour.”
A few minutes later they stole out of her rooms, passing the saluting guards and hurrying down the hall together toward the closest exit.
“I feel like we’re skulking, or escaping,” Tyema said. “Where are we going?”
Sahure assumed an air of mystery, opening his eyes wide. “You’ll know soon enough.”
They came out onto one of the wide patios surrounding the palace and Tyema saw Sahure’s chariot waiting at the bottom of the stairs, the impatient horses being held by his sergeant. She brushed her hair back and sighed in exasperation. “I never remember to bring them a treat to munch on.”
Don’t worry about my team— they eat far too much as it is.” Sahure handed her into the chariot and took the reins from his man. “Let me get out of the palace complex and then you can drive for a few moments, before we reach the main street. If you want.”
“Of course, I’d love to. I’ve missed driving.” She bit her lip. I’ve missed a lot of other, more important things since you left, but probably better not to speak of those. Raising her face to the breeze, Tyema enjoyed the fresh air and the morning.
Her stint at the reins was short, but then Sahure skillfully drove them through light traffic to a sprawling temple complex on the far side of the city.
“What god is worshipped here?” she asked as she jumped down from the vehicle.
“A goddess, ‘She Who Giveth Birth But Was Not Herself Born of Any,’ ” Sahure said. “Mut, the Vulture.”
Tyema considered the information. “I’ve heard of the Vulture, of course. And Ashayet wore the most amazing golden vulture crown the other night at the dinner. I’ve never seen such intricate workmanship.”
“Mut is the patron goddess of Thebes, wife of the mighty Amun-Ra,” Sahure said. “Her worship rises in prominence as her husband becomes increasingly more favored and powerful among the gods. Or so it’s said, mostly by his constantly growing, mortal priesthood.” He held out his hand as she started to turn into the broad walkway, lined by sphinxes with rams’ heads. “We’re not going into the main temple, not today anyway. Walk with me.”
Hand in hand they strolled along a path made of crushed white stones, bordered by larger rocks painted with red and turquoise hieroglyphics praising Mut. The path wound away from the imposing bulk of the central temple, which sat on a small hill behind them.
Sahure’s clasp was firm, his fingers warmly possessive as they wrapped around hers. Tyema wished she could pretend they were back in Ibis and nothing had changed between them. Feeling the prick of tears as bittersweet longing swept through her, Tyema blinked hard and sought a topic of distracting conversation. “I wonder what Isis thinks about someone else being regarded as a queen among the Great Ones.”
Sahure gave her a surprised glance. “I forget you’re so close to Sobek. You must have unusual insight into the behavior of the gods.”
Thinking of the various times Merys had spoken with fear of Isis, Tyema held her tongue. It wasn’t her place to share any private information with someone else. Who knew when the gods might be listening? “Do you worship this Mut? Does Pharaoh? Or Queen Ashayet?”
“No, I don’t. Most of Pharaoh’s inner circle of courtiers and his warriors remain loyal to Horus. The queen, however, has become quite devoted to Mut over the years. I can see the day coming when Amun-Ra and Mut will be the most prominent deities in this city. Perhaps some future Pharaoh raised here in Thebes will swear allegiance to Amun-Ra, unlike Nat-re-Akhte, who grew up in a mountain province. I confess some fondness for Mut, for my own reasons.” He paused on the path, grinning like a boy, barring her from going farther. “Close your eyes and let me lead you the last few steps, please?”
Unable to resist his laughing, pleading tone, Tyema ostentatiously closed her eyes, felt him take her elbow firmly and steer her forward, around a corner and down a gently curving path, until he said, “Now you can open your eyes and enjoy the surroundings.”
Blinking, she found the view enchanting. “Oh how lovely!” She stood in a half circle courtyard, facing the Nile, surrounded by pillars inscribed with lavish hieroglyphics extolling the virtues, beauty and accomplishments of Mut, as well as the history of her marriage to Amun-Ra. Well trimmed trees framed the entire nook. Small statues of crowned vultures stood between the pillars and in the center was a greater-than-life-size statue of the goddess herself, shown as a woman but with the addition of great, outstretched white vulture wings, gleaming in the sun, each individual feather carved in relief and painted. Mut wore an elaborate vulture headdress, gilded to catch the sunlight, and held a large, ribbon-draped ankh in one hand. Her dress was painted rich lotus blue and she gazed serenely across the Nile. A small, crescent-shaped pond was directly in front of the statue, choked with water lilies. Several small turtles who’d been sunning themselves on the blue tiled edge of the pond plopped into the water, swimming away at Tyema’s approach.
Staring at Mut, Tyema found herself strangely drawn to the deity’s unusually peaceful face. Her expression is so kindly, so welcoming. Much what I wish my mother had shown to me, not just to my older sisters. Moved to tears by the sudden longing, Tyema brushed her hand over her eyes, glad she hadn’t done her eye makeup yet, to be ruined by crying. I’ve grown so weepy since coming to Thebes, which isn’t like me at all. Giving herself a mental shake, she concentrated on her surroundings. “I feel the attraction of this goddess. Mut seems unaccountably different from Isis.” The entire effect of the area was to honor the goddess while still providing a peaceful spot for contemplation by mortals.
“I thought you’d like the place
.” Sahure drew her off to the side, to a bench, supported by twin sphinxes. “I designed it.”
Tyema swiveled to stare at him as she sat. “You?”
He nodded, seeming pleased by her reaction. “Yes, as a boy. Well, to be fair, I did a rough sketch, handed off to more skillful hands for translation into architectural drawings. I wanted to show you this glade practically since I met you. When we were in Ibis Nome I talked often of my ambitions, my dreams. Probably too often.” He grimaced and shook a finger at her. “You’re entirely too skillful at getting a man to forget himself and ramble on about his own concerns.”
She said nothing, feeling uncomfortable that however accidentally he’d realized it, what he described was indeed one of her favorite methods of deflecting attention from herself. “So how did you, as a boy, in training to be a warrior, come to design an aspect of a great temple?”
He answered her question with a question of his own. “Do you know who gets to build things in Egypt? Buildings and monuments standing for all time?”
“Pharaoh,” she said, inserting a question into her tone.
He nodded. “Pretty much. Pharaoh and those he empowers or commissions to build on his behalf.”
“Like the consideration he’s giving to creating a new harbor and port city in my province?”
“If the river complex gets constructed, yes.” Sahure sat beside her, leaving a small space between them. Tyema had to fight the urge to slide closer on the stone bench and put her arm around him as he went on speaking. “In my family there’s only one career a man can follow—the military. We’ve been soldiers going back generations. Fortunately, my grandfather and father loathed the Usurper Pharaoh, hated the way she allowed the Hyksos to have authority in Egypt, which they used as an excuse to plunder and ravage. My relatives were happy to ally with Nat-re-Akhte when he decided enough was enough. They took their battalions of highly trained soldiers into the field on Nat-re-Akhte’s behalf early in the rebellion, reversed the outcome of a hard fought, pivotal battle. He remembers that support with gratitude to this day. Members of our family have done well ever since, received honors and promotions, achieved positions of authority.”
Tyema considered his explanation, never having stopped to wonder before how the current nomarch of Ibis Province had gained his position. “Like your uncle?”
Sahure nodded. “Yes, he was a successful general and Pharaoh appointed him to replace the old nomarch who’d given his loyalty to the Usurper. The elevation in rank was a reward for significant military victories. And as nomarch, my uncle’s gotten to build, including monuments and temples to carry his name through the ages.”
She thought she saw what he was driving at now. “Your uncle commissioned temples and government houses and a new granary—”
“Right. I want to do what he’s done, but there’s a great deal of competition at Pharaoh’s court for the positions allowing a man to leave a mark on Egypt. And I want to have a hand in actually designing what I build.” His voice was full of firm conviction. “Not merely oversee the execution of someone else’s plans.”
Tyema was fascinated by this new insight into the ambition driving Sahure. “You said your family was a military one, though?”
“Through and through.” He nodded. “So of course I was destined for the sword and shield from birth.”
Tyema heard an undertone in his voice, as if he hadn’t been completely pleased to be born into the military strata of Egyptian society, honorable though it was. “I know a man doesn’t get invited into Pharaoh’s Own Regiment unless he’s one of Egypt’s best warriors, proven himself.” She touched the golden badge on his shoulder. “And Edekh mentioned the other night at dinner you received gold of valor for breaking the siege at Kharga. I was proud for you.”
Smiling, he captured her hand. “Thank you. Fortune and fate favored me at Kharga.”
“I was told you were there for a year? But surely it didn’t require so long a campaign to defeat the Hyksos?”
Hardly,” he laughed. “My commission from Pharaoh was to rebuild the place, create a stronger fortification, enhance the string of forts along the caravan route. I made a good beginning before my deployment ended and I was recalled to Thebes. Much remains to be done, but I’ll not have the doing of it. Nor was the work on the scale of what I truly long to do.”
“So, unless you were teasing me earlier, how did you come to design this peaceful little chapel to Mut? And how does this unusual fact concern us?”
“It concerns our son, primarily.”
She tensed, withdrawing her hand to her lap. “Sahure—”
Eyebrows drawn together in a frown, muscle twitching in his jaw, Sahure insisted. “We have to talk about this, Ema, and if not now, when? I’ve no idea how long you’re staying in Thebes, I have a feeling you misunderstand my intentions about the boy, and we get no privacy in the palace.”
Swallowing hard, she nodded. He’s right, I’m worried about his plans for our son. “The goddess Hathor attended Seknehure’s birth and she said his future will be full of challenges befitting a warrior, but he’ll prevail and bring honor to Egypt, and his parents.” The words were engraved in her memory. He deserves to know what Hathor prophesied for our son.
Eyebrows raised, Sahure gave her an incredulous look. “You stand high indeed in regard of the Great Ones, if Hathor came herself to your childbearing.”
“Tawaret was also there,” she said, remembering that frightening time. Best not to mention Merys. And I can’t say anything about the black magic.
There was a moment of silence, while Sahure apparently contemplated the idea of his son’s birth having been assisted by two goddesses. “Thank you for sharing the prophecy with me. It makes what I want to say easier.” He stared at her, eyes narrowed. “Although as always with you I have the feeling there’s much you aren’t sharing. What do you hide behind your beautiful façade, Ema? Why don’t you trust me?”
Prickles of fear shot through her. She was hiding so much from him, more than she normally concealed from everyone. I can’t lose control of myself here, not now. In an attempt to deflect her increasing shortness of breath, tight chest and vertigo, she rose from the bench and strolled to the crescent pond, saying over her shoulder, “Well?”
“When I was a boy, I spent much time with my mother’s oldest brother, who was an architect. He designed the new portions of the greater temple complex.” Sahure waved a hand in the direction of the sprawling buildings on the rise. “I was fascinated by his tools, by the models his draftsmen built, by the idea of creating something where nothing had been before. As it happens, I had an aptitude for architecture and I enjoy it. Since he was working on this large commission at the time, he indulged me with the assignment to design a nook for contemplation.” His lips twisted in a wry grin. “I think he gave me the task to keep me out of his hair, but I surprised him.”
“Here,” she said, spinning in a leisurely circle to take in their peaceful surroundings.
He nodded. “My uncle did the final drawings, of course. No one but he and I knew the concept was mine. We couldn’t tell my family.”
“Because you were destined to be a warrior?”
“And I am, one of the best,” he said as a simple statement of fact. “I was born with the necessary physical skills, and I had the right training from the moment I could walk. But my greater goal is to be in a position to create for posterity, to ensure what I design is built and acknowledged as mine. Done under Pharaoh’s command of course, for the good of Egypt, but done by me, with my cartouche on the keystones.”
She remembered some chatter at the dinner table the other night, regarding the possibility of Sahure being under consideration for the position of vizier, which would afford him the opportunities he sought, including the oversight of important construction. And he’ll need a wife who can help him navigate the politics and the intrigues. Not someone who spends entire dinners with important people unable to concentrate due to fear of vomiting o
r fainting from terror. I must set him free of caring for me, let him find a partner who can help him achieve his dreams, share his successes. She squared her shoulders, positive of what she must do. “I need to get back to the palace. How does this all concern Seknehure?”
“I was going to swear to you the boy can pursue whatever career he wants, although now you tell me the gods decree he’ll be a warrior, perhaps my concerns are groundless. I’d have been content had he chosen the priesthood or any other honorable pursuit, as long as he was happy.”
“The boy is yet a babe who can’t even walk,” she reminded him.
“True, no rush right now.” Sahure nodded. “But when he’s old enough, we’ll have to ensure he’s accepted into the finest military school, here in Thebes.”
She could hardly breathe, so painful was the idea of a future separation from her child. “I realize he can’t get the proper training in Ibis Province, but must we speak of this today?”
“I want to recognize him as my heir, formally, before Pharaoh,” Sahure said. “While you’re here.”
“I won’t give him up,” she said, panic making her voice shaky and harsh. “You and your wife can have other sons. Sobek will stand with me on this.” Even as she uttered the threat, a little voice in her mind questioned whether the god would take her side. A career as a warrior for Egypt was a respected and honorable path for a man.
“Wife? I’m not married, nor likely to be any time soon at this rate,” he said, eyes flashing in anger. “I just want to recognize my son, provide for him. All other things come in due time. My family has a large estate, Seknehure is entitled to his claim on it.”
How can I argue? I can’t deny my son what he’s owed by birth. “Fine. Extremely honorable and generous of you.” She occupied her shaking hands in smoothing the wrinkles in her gown.
He came toward her and instinctively she retreated a step. Eyes narrowing, he paused, letting the hand he’d extended fall to his side. “How did things come to this uneasy pass between us?”
Magic of the Nile Page 24