Child of the morning

by Gedge, Pauline, 1945-

  "And that would be so hard for you," she mocked him. "Really, Thothmes, you disappoint me."

  "I am sorry," he said, squirming in the little seat that barely held his bulk. "It is just that—"

  "Well? What?" Her happy mood had evaporated, and she faced him, her hands on her hips. "Oh, why are the Thothmesids so difficult to understand?"

  "You are one yourself," he responded waspishly. "No one in the world is as hard to fathom as you, Hatshepset. Then know that I have been brought news of the same kind, yesterday. Aset is also to have a child."

  "Why should that concern me?" she asked him in surprise. "There are

  dozens of royal bastards running wild in the palace! One more should not upset you or worry me. My child will be fully legitimate."

  He shifted uncomfortably, dropping his eyes to his knees. ''Aset's child will be legitimate, too. 1 have decided to make her Second Wife."

  [ ler jaw dropped, and Nofret and the physician were suddenly very still, their eyes on the rigid back of their mistress. Hatshepsut stared at Thothmes until he began to fidget, and she collapsed onto her couch in an attitude of complete unbelief.

  "Let me try— try to understand," she choked. 'Tou are going to marry that—that common dancer?"

  'Tes," he said defiantly, his gaze still on his ample linen. ''I like her very much. She is clever and affectionate and able to control all the other women. She makes me happy."

  "How do you judge intelligence?" she fired at him. "Is the woman with the longest legs in the harem intelligent? How else have you trained yourself to know, Thothmes?"

  She guessed in a flash of intuition where Aset's power lay. Aset could make Pharaoh feel more like a man than the other women could, and because she was cleverer than the other simpering, empty-headed slaves, Thothmes felt flattered. He straightened, his bottom lip sticking out mutinously and his brow furrowed in a frown, and Hatshepsut recognized the signs of his stubborn will, sluggish to rise but impossible to sway once aroused.

  She held up her hands in exasperated submission. "Very well. It is your right to marry whom you will. But I am sorry that you did not see fit to choose a noble woman, a daughter of Ineni perhaps, or one of User-amun's beautiful sisters. This Aset is not worthy of a Pharaoh, Thothmes. She is a schemer, a petty troublemaker, and you may be sorry that you introduced such a one into your palace."

  "I will not listen to you!" he flared, the quick temper of his father bursting forth. "Since when has your intuition been infallible? You are sometimes mistaken, as I am, and this time you are wrong!"

  "I am seldom mistaken, Thothmes," she said.

  At that very moment, she remembered the cryptic words of her ka. They rushed back to her, feeling like the cold, wet slap of drying linen on her face. "It is as a father that he will destroy you." She could see the full, derisory lips of the golden boy as he had spoken to her. It was as if the room in which she sat had dissolved and she was once again in the temple, in the cold night, facing the God and the strange visitor with tired courage. She put a hand to her eyes, rubbing them, feeling a headache begin.

  ''As ruler of this country I cannot afford to judge men foolishly or lightly, and I say to you that Aset is small and mean."

  ''Words!" he jeered, shaking with the rage that she could so often stir in him, conscious as he was of his impotence in the face of her calm capabilities. "You are jealous. You fear that with Aset and her child I can put you out of the way!"

  He did not think on his words, and she laughed at them in genuine amusement, knowing, as he did, that such a thing could never happen.

  "Well, anyway," he grumbled, "I cannot see why you object so strenuously. I quite love her, you know, and she is at least where I want her when I want her."

  "I know, I know," she said more gently, feeling the impossibility of trying to tell him just why she knew, with her sharp faculty of discernment, heightened by years of government, that Aset was dangerous. "Marry her then, and make the child in her womb a royal child. Shall it be a boy, do you think? Or a girl?"

  "It would amuse you if both of you produced girls," he said sourly. "Then there would be two royal daughters and still no son to take the Horus Throne."

  "In that case," she told him, smiling, "my daughter would ascend the Holy Throne with Steps, as the only fully royal and female heir."

  "Don't be silly! No woman has ever worn the Double Crown."

  "I have."

  "That was different. You wore it as Regent, not as Pharaoh."

  "Let us not begin the same old quarrel," she said gently. "There is time enough to haggle over the accession."

  He rose woodenly. "There will be no haggling," he told her. "As Pharaoh I appoint whom I will to follow after me."

  "Provided that your heir marries royal female blood."

  "Of course. Now I must go. I am happy for us, Hatshepset, and for Egypt." He gathered the shreds of his dignity around him, accepting the prostrations of Nofret and the physician as he walked to the door. He turned to say something more but thought better of it, shutting his mouth like a trap and stalking away.

  Hatshepsut was too distrait to laugh at him. "A common dancer. I cannot believe it!" she muttered. She sent the physician away and lay down while Nofret bathed her head with cool cloths.

  Before the week was out, the whole city knew first that Egypt would have an heir and second that Thothmes was preparing to take another wife; and in a month the news had trickled from the delta to the Cata-

  racts. Egypt heaved a general sigh of relief. Thothmes was a great Pharaoh and his Qnecn a mighty ruler, and the country was ordered with every efficiency; hut the shadow of foreign domination was too fresh in the minds of the Egyptians to accept the idea of a prince who was not of their own blood, and the birth of a royal heir would solve the problem.

  One night Ineni invited Senmut, Senmen, Hapuseneb, Nehesi, and other officials to a celebration, a boating party on the river, and they were all very gay and drank a great deal. Ineni, more than any other, was relieved at the news. He had lived close to the seat of power for many years, and he had been afraid that Hatshepsut would tire of a naked head and claim the Double Crown from her brother in a burst of irritated frustration. But with the prospect of a child she could look to the time when her child would rule. She did not doubt that it would be anything less than another Thothmes the First, and she seemed content.

  Senmut had received the word without comment. Hatshepsut had told him herself, watching him anxiously, and he had at last bowed deeply and offered his congratulations.

  But she had sensed a sadness in him that had cut her, and she had sent him away. To her the child meant a new security for Egypt, another God to continue her work when she wearied of life and ascended to the Heavenly Barque to sit beside her Father. Yet sometimes she felt well up in her a fierce denial that her child should receive what she could not, and her temper became unpredictable.

  She had a granite statue carved of Ta-urt, goddess of the childbed, and she set it in a corner of her room beside Amun's shrine. She would often stand, lost in thought, before the benevolent, smiling hippopotamus, its fat hands elapsed over its ridiculously swollen body. She went to her valley more frequently, riding in her litter while the deaf Nubian ran along beside her holding her scarlet fan, and she sat as she had before, greedily drinking in the harmonious lines and sweeping ramps of her monument. The second terrace rushed toward completion, and now it was clear how the missing ramp would lead the eye, flowing up to the square entrance to the hidden shrines. But still she did not approach it. Under the soft, transparent sheaths of womanhood she had grudgingly decided to wear during her pregnancy, her lithe figure changed, grew fuller, and the season drew to a close.

  Her police brought her word that in the northeast the Ha-nebu was stirring, bent on a rampage of rebellion, and she peremptorily planned another campaign. But this time her officers adamantly refused to allow her to march, and she agreed reluctantly that to do so would be foolish. But she told them
that she would stay in safety at Thebes only if Pharaoh

  would go in her stead, and Thothmes, with many sidelong glances at the advisers who thronged the table, agreed to do so. Hatshepsut was delighted, imagining him struggling on, sweating in the sun, shaking with fear, but she was happier still to think of the joy the troops would feel being led by Pharaoh himself. It was a small and insignificant undertaking, more a necessary show of Egypt's strength than a necessary fight, and she waved him oflF absently and returned to her chair under the shade of the spreading sycamores to play at draughts with Nofret or to shake the dice with Senmut.

  Hapuseneb had once more marched off with the army in his capacity as Minister of War, but she kept Nehesi by her, why exactly she did not know. His silent presence, the sheer physical power that daunted many, brought to her a feeling of security and peace, and when he stood behind her chair as her Chief Bodyguard or bent beside her to affix the Royal Seal to some document, she knew that she was invulnerable.

  A veil seemed to have fallen between her and Senmut. She was never more a possession of Egypt and of Thothmes than she was now, large with the child; and he drew back from her tactfully, although it hurt him. He continued to see her every day, often reading to her or telling her stories in the long afternoons as she requested. He knew that she took comfort from his presence, but they were as quietly companionable as cousins, and troubled each other with no spoken or unspoken emotions.

  Sometimes she sent her Steward to the apartment where Aset lived to inquire about the health of the woman, and sometimes in the evenings she saw Aset walking in the women's garden, an area that was screened from the palace gardens by a high wall, cut at intervals by windows. Aset still moved like a hunting leopard in spite of her distorted body, and Hatshepsut listened to her high, screaming laughter and watched, her face a mask of indifference that hid a jumble of speculation and dislike, as Aset ordered her slaves about.

  She had asked Senmut to make sure that Aset was watched all the time, and Senmut had complied, knowing that the new Royal Wife was aware of the spies and did not care. The very recklessness of her disdain alarmed him, but Hatshepsut only laughed when he tried to express his unease.

  ''Let her strut, peacock that she is," she said. ''One day she will trip on her own feathers." But he was not so sure, and neither was she, though she ordered him to resume reading and leaned back and closed her eyes. Aset was flighty, but she was cunning and no fool. In moments of depression Senmut did not doubt that she was more than a match for poor Thothmes.

  In five months the army returned, laden with spoil from the wealthy delta land, and Thothmes held audience to distribute rewards, very pleased with himself. He ordered his wives to be present, and Hatshepsut claimed her throne at his side, but Aset sat on a golden stool at his feet, leaning against him brazenly. She was arrayed in the bright colors she loved: a vivid yellow sheath with a wide collar of white linen studded with turquoise; a scarlet, tasseled belt; gold sandals; and a scarlet headband whose ribbons shimmered with gold. Her arms were laden with clinking golden bracelets, and her thin face was heavily painted. Mutnefert was present also, all smiles and wobbling folds; on the death of her royal lover, she had entirely given up trying to curb her appetite and now was as round as a ball. None present failed to see the resemblance between the mother of Pharaoh and his new wife, for both had a passion for jewels and many colors. In spite of the obvious fondness Pharaoh showed for Aset, smiling down on her and resting a plump, beringed hand once or twice on her head as the ceremony progressed, the assembled generals and courtiers could more than sense the gulf of blood and station between the two blazing women and the quiet, understated regality of Hatshepsut. She wore white and silver and sat almost motionless as the treasures were handed out, her gaze regarding them all calmly, her lovely wide brow smooth and her hands still in her lap. None doubted that the invisible threads of power were still gathered within the proud, coroneted head resting on the graceful neck.

  When it was over, Mutnefert and Aset burst into a flurry of chatter, sparrows in the morning, and Thothmes beamed on them, but it was Hatshepsut whom he escorted to the feasting, settling her on her cushions as though she were made of the most fragile and beautiful glass, and he filled her cup himself. He had missed Aset's bony, taut body during the months of his absence, but it was Hatshepsut who had come to him in his dreams, more lovely and ageless than the God himself, her voice echoing through his first waking moments, mingling with the hard blaring of the horns of dawn.

  Aset gave birth first, loudly and triumphantly, with many screams and cries.

  Thothmes, bending over the wet and wailing infant, clapped his hands. '*A boy! By Amun! And a lusty one! Listen to him yell!" He took his son in eager, clumsy arms, and the child began to scream all the louder, its belligerent red face screwed up convulsively.

  ''Give him to his nurse," Aset said, and Thothmes placed him with the silent, hovering woman. He was carried away, still yelling, and Thothmes perched on the edge of Aset's couch, taking both her hands in his. She smiled at him, her eyes hollowed with exhaustion.

  ''Are you pleased with your son. Mighty Horus?"

  "Very pleased! You have done well, Aset. Is there anything that you would like? Something to make you more comfortable?"

  Aset was crafty. She dropped her gaze and withdrew her hands. "To know that I have your continued love. Great One. That is all I desire. To be under your protection is comfort enough."

  Thothmes was flattered and pleased. He drew her to him, letting her head, with its massed tangles of black hair, rest on his shoulder as she collapsed against him as weakly and trustingly as a kitten. "All Egypt blesses you this day," he told her. "Your son will be a mighty prince."

  "Perhaps even Pharaoh?"

  Her voice reached him, muffled, but the tone unmistakably sharp. He suddenly felt a little tired, a little miserable, his joy in his firstborn muted by the plain avarice in Aset's words. "Perhaps," he replied. "But you know as well as I that his elevation depends a great deal on the Queen's child."

  "But you are Pharaoh, mighty in power and in deeds. If you wish my son to succeed you, then you only have to say the word, and all men will obey."

  "It is not as simple as that, and well you know it," he rebuked her kindly. She sat up, gripping his hands. "Do not be too greedy, Aset. Many a fine prince and handsome noble has eaten himself to death."

  She blushed at these words, jolted at a perception in him she had never known was there, for she, too, tended to take him lightly. She had never seen the streak of mulishness that Hatshepsut often provoked, nor had she known him in the years when he was only a prince, going about the palace with his ears and mind open and his mouth tightly shut. She said no more about it, but determination hardened in her, and she vowed that what she could not accomplish directly, she would win by soft persuasions. Next-door in the nursery her son let out a wail and was finally silent. Grimly she turned from Thothmes, settling herself for sleep. Her son would be Pharaoh. And that was the end of the matter.

  Thothmcs carefully consulted the astrologers and priests concerning the name of the boy, and they told him unanimously that he should be known as Thothmes. Thothmes had hoped for such an answer, and he strutted to Hatshepsut as happy as a preening cockerel. She was dressing after her daily sleep, her eyes still heavy. Her room was still darkened, and full of hot, cloying air. She admitted him, and while he talked, Nofret slipped the sheath over her head and began to brush her hair.

  **I have not yet rejoiced with you over the birth of your son," she said, ''and I am sorry for that, Thothmes, but for the last two days I have been preoccupied. There seems to be some dispute over the amount and kinds of tribute you ordered to be exacted from the unhappy Ha-nebu, and the nomarch and my tax collectors have been haggling like old women in the market. How is the child?"

  Thothmes pulled up a chair and sat beside her, watching the comb drawn evenly and hypnotically through the gleaming tresses. 'Tou have had some hair cut oflf," h
e remarked.

  'Tes, I have. I like it better a little above my shoulders. It is not so hot on my neck. What of the child?"

  "He is very strong and vigorous in his sucking, and he resembles our father in every way. He is a true Thothmesid!"

  Her lips twisted wryly. 'Then you must have him brought to me so that I may judge for myself how much of him is in truth Osiris-Thothmes and how much the vain pride of a puffed-up father."

  "Hatshepset," he protested in an injured tone, "even the servants exclaim on his likeness. Aset is pleased at it also."

  He had said the wrong thing. Hatshepsut pulled her head sharply away from the comb and got up, swinging away from him. "I am sure that she is! Well for her that your son bears the stamp of royalty and not the muddy imprint of her baseborn family." He opened his mouth in outraged anger, but she stopped suddenly by her table, pouring wine, and told Nofret to raise the mats from the windows. As the full sunlight flooded the room and the twittering of the birds became immediately apparent, she passed a cup to him and seated herself at her cosmetic table once more. Nofret opened the rouge pot. "What of the naming?" she asked.

  He leaned forward, his swift anger evaporating. "The priests tell me that he is to be called Thothmes, and that it will be a name full of power and magic. Aset—"

  "I know!" she broke in impatiently. "Aset is pleased."

  "No," he said. "Aset is not pleased. She wished to call him Sek-henenre."

  Hatshepsut burst out laughing, gasping and choking as the wine in her mouth caught in her throat. When she could speak at last, she saw Thothmes smiling unwillingly with her, touched by her mirth. '*Oh, Thothmes, imagine! Sekhenenre! Does Aset see her son smiting his enemies, a man mighty in battle, a soldier of legend and song? The name of the great and valiant Sekhenenre, my God-ancestor, is indeed a powerful name, but does poor little Aset realize that the name is clouded, and the good Sekhenenre perished in pain and defeat at the hands of the Hyksos? I think not!"