She looked at the massive black arms splayed in appeal, the thick, muscled waist, the smooth face that radiated a steady, overpowering vitality, and she moved pettishly under the cool linen. "My head burns like fire," she said, "and day after day I am oppressed. Since the priest told me the name of my daughter, I have felt weak, used up, as if the name itself has drawn all strength from me. I think about it all the time, Nehesi. It haunts me."
"It is but a word," he retorted. "A name has much power, yes, but the man or woman who has the name can turn the use of it to good or ill."
"Neferu-khebit is dead," she replied slowly. "Was it an accident that caused her name to come once more into my life?"
"No," he almost shouted at her, "it was no accident! It is a good name, a royal name, a name that is loved by Amun. Will he give his Daughter's daughter a name that will harm her? Did your sister die because of a name? Would she even now curse you, one who loved her and shared all with her? Majesty, you dishonor yourself, your sister, and your Father Amun!" He did not wait to be dismissed but cast her a look of withering scorn and glided away, snapping some order to the guard as he went, his voice deep.
She lay looking after him while her heart thudded faster. His words had stirred her, made her wonder in a panic what she was doing here in this soft, dark place when outside Ra rejoiced and the green things once more pushed through the earth. But still she did not stir.
One day, in the morning, when Aset was unwell, a cold and a sore throat making her scratchy and irritable, Thothmes went to the nursery to see his daughter. She was asleep, she seemed always to be asleep; whereas little Thothmes kicked and smiled and fought against his trappings. He stared down on her in perplexity, a crease of worry furrowing his broad, placid brow.
At last he went to Hatshepsut's room and sat beside her in her chair. ''Are you well today?" he asked her.
She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. ''Quite well. How is the business of government going for you, Thothmes?"
"I do not know. I leave it to the ministers. What else are ministers for?"
The words were so like her own to Senmut that she sat forward, aghast. "Do you mean that you do not read the dispatches every day?"
"No, I don't. I was never very good at reading, and the droning of the scribes bores me. I have had some excellent hunting, though!"
She looked at his fatuous expression with more emotion than she had felt in weeks, wanting to reach out and slap the silly grin from his face; and as she felt her temper rise, she slipped from the couch, calling for Nofret and her robe. "I believed you to be happy to order all as you wished for a while! Has nothing been done?" She remembered Senmut's imploring face and angry lips, but she had only the vaguest remembrance of his request. "While I have rested, have you done nothing but play?"
"Play? Only children play."
"O my dear Egypt," she whispered, "what have I done to you?" He turned to her, puzzled, as she slipped the robe around her and hugged it to her.
"Hatshepset," he began, but she ordered food and milk before she looked at him again. "I wanted to talk to you about Neferura," he continued.
She heard the name impassively, wondering why on earth it had distressed her. The fog in her brain was clearing fast, though her legs shook. Already her mind was racing to the audience chambers, seeing the pile of untouched correspondence that awaited her Seal. "What about her?"
"Have you spoken to the physicians about her? She seems to be a trifle frail."
"Senmut remarked upon it, too, but the physician says that she is merely delicate and will grow as strong and healthy as the young bull in your pen." Her mouth turned up at the corners. "She will make a good Pharaoh."
He shot out of his chair. "That is for me to decide!"
Nofrct appeared, followed by a line of slaves bearing trays of food. It would be the largest meal Hatshepsiit had eaten in a long while.
She folded herself onto her cushions and sniffed expectantly. ''Fish! Lovely fish!" She fixed Thothmes with a sudden, level stare. **I think not. Will you, as Pharaoh, name Neferura as your Crown Prince? Your Heir?"
"Certainly not! The idea is preposterous!"
'Tour father did it, and if it had not been for you, I would now be Pharaoh! Do you call him preposterous?"
Nofret lifted the lid from a silver dish and ladled the food onto Hat-shepsut's plate.
"Yes, I do. There is no longer any need to fight over the succession. I am going to declare my son Thothmes my Heir and marry him in time to Neferura to legitimize that declaration."
"No, you are not." She shoveled the food into her mouth, chewing with gusto and reaching for the water. "You can declare all you want, Thothmes, but I will not allow Neferura to marry Thothmes. I have decided to found a new dynasty—of Queens. I will change the law."
He was aghast. "You cannot change the law! Pharaoh must be male!"
"Do you mean that Pharaoh must have the hangings of a man, or that Pharaoh must be seen to govern with a man's strength of purpose and command? Who is Egypt, Thothmes, I or you? You need not answer, and please close your mouth, you are putting me off my food. I rule Egypt, and Neferura will be raised to rule after me, as Pharaoh."
"Thothmes will be Pharaoh!"
"He will not!"
He got up, wanting to put his foot under her table and send the fragrant dishes flying in her face. "As Amun is my witness, as I am Pharaoh of Egypt, he will reign!" He growled. "You are as mad as a sun-crazed cur."
"Oh, go away, Thothmes." She waved an arm at him, smiling. "And one thing more. If you do not declare for Neferura, you shall never again share my bed. That I vow and promise."
He stamped to the door in a furious rage. "That will be no loss, she-cat! Bitch! I never want to feel your claws again!" He flung back the heavy bronze doors and went out. But as he half ran, half stumbled down the hall, he was already assailed by a bitter longing for the few nights he had spent lost in her arms, and he cursed her in agony as he found himself under the sweet, spreading willows of her garden.
An hour later the men gathered in the audience chamber heard quick determined steps approaching, and they looked up. Beyond the door the soldier jumped, his spear hitting the floor in salute, and the next moment Hatshepsut burst in upon them, the Cobra on her head glittering and her
brief boy's kilt swirling about her thighs. She strode the length of the quiet room in long, angry steps, her golden sandals punctuating the sudden silence with purposeful little slaps. Before she reached them, they were all prostrate. She surveyed them, one beringed hand sitting on her slim hip. ''Rise, all of you. By Amun, you are in paper up to your knees. Nehesi, the Seal! Hapuseneb, we will deal with your problems first. Ineni, bring me a chair; I will sit. Inept and lazy ministers that you are, your office is in a mess!"
They rose and smiled at her, enormous relief and thanksgiving shining in their eyes.
She smiled back at them in perfect understanding. ''Egypt has come to you," she said, settling herself in the chair that Ineni hastily placed before her and holding her hand out for the first scroll. *'My friends, we will weld this country into the greatest of all history. We will tighten the reins until there is none in Thebes, in the whole of Egypt, who will dare to oppose us. The work we have done before will be as nothing compared to the mighty acts we will perform together from this day on, and even Pharaoh will be dumb." She sought Senmut's face, and finding it, a challenge and a message flashed between them. She bent to the reading of the letter, and Anen set his scribe's tray, his pens and inks, on his crossed legs. 'Tharaoh is about to announce the succession," she said to them, her eyes on the characters in front of her. In those words all present knew the reason for her sudden recovery. ''He says—" here she paused, her glance sweeping over them all keenly, "he says that the Hawk-in-the-Nest will be young Thothmes." They were silent, and she tapped her teeth musingly with the crisp scroll. "But we will go to the temple and see what Amun has to say. My Father will not wish it; I am sure."
; User-amun was about to protest that as both contenders were still in infancy any discussion was futile. But Hapuseneb sent him a warning glance, and he shut his mouth and coughed instead.
"Meanwhile, to work!" Hatshepsut finished. "We must grow in peace and in strength and in every good gift of the God."
They knew that she was not referring to any of them.
By the New Year the backlog of work was cleared away, and ruthlessly Hatshepsut began to consolidate the power that had been hers since her father told her she was to be Crown Prince. She drove herself and those around her with a steady whip, conscious that she and only she was Egypt's Hope. She knew that if she wished one day to make Neferura King, she would have to close any gaps between herself and the Horus Throne. She discussed the matter fully with Senmut and Hapuseneb, and
they all agreed that in Thothmes' lifetime—and thus in her lifetime, also —little could be done. But Hatshepsut wanted the throne for Neferura with an increasing appetite, and she cast about for ways to make the girl's accession safe after her own or Thothmes' death.
With wily foresight she began to replace with her own men many of the priests in the temple who held high office. But she was powerless to rid herself of Menena as long as Thothmes wanted him. The choice of High Priest fell to Pharaoh alone, and so Menena continued to advise and counsel Thothmes while Hatshepsut ringed him with spies. She made sure, unobtrusively and slowly, that all nomarchs, viceroys, and governors of the provinces belonged to her, and she spent much time in the barracks with the soldiers and on the estates of the generals, winning them all with her charm and her fire. She did not do these things selfishly. Egypt had to be strong. Amun must be seen to reign supreme. She poured out her devotion to the God and to the country that blazed like a blue, green, and brown jewel before her eyes.
She made Senmut her Chief Steward, knowing as she did so that nothing in her household would pass that was not noted by his calculating, unsleeping eye. Under his care her daughter grew, toddling about in the nursery, safe in the circle of his long arms. She often invited the young aristocrats Yamu-nefru, Djehuty, Sen-nefer to hunt or to dine with her, knowing that they came of families almost as old as her own, families steeped in the traditions and mores of their forefathers. At first she did not know how they would greet a woman who was not Queen but King. They brought her rich gifts and praised and flattered her, but their dark eyes told of the disdain with which they regarded upstarts like Senmut, though they gave him every respect. He was now a great man, the greatest in the land under the Queen herself, and they knew it.
When Egypt was finally running smoothly, due to her unceasing vigilance, she turned her attention to the School of Architects, for they were a class apart, held in reverence by royalty since time began. Her careful eye spotted the promise of the young and silent Puamra. She gave him work to do for herself as well as for Thothmes, and he acquitted himself with calm dispatch. But she found him hard to understand. He went little to the temple and seemed to have few friends. He would often go north to Bubastis and come back to Thebes silent and dissipated. None knew how he served his Goddess, Bast, the Running Cat, but all could guess. Nevertheless, he was devoted to Hatshepsut in his own quiet, intense way, and he came more and more often to the conferences of her inner circle, sitting silently and watching them all or offering a brusque, pointed comment that cleared the air, then withdrawing once again to his secret
thoughts. Amunophis was another newcomer to her entourage. Hatshep-sut, having fought with his father in the desert, made him Under Steward, and he soon proved his ability. He and Senmut shared the responsibility for the administration of the palace. He was a quick, good-looking man with the constitution of one of his beloved horses, and no matter how arduous the tasks of each day, he seemed always to find time to harness his chariot and spend a couple of hours racing back and forth between Luxor and Thebes. Sometimes Senmut would race with him, thundering across the desert in the orange sunsets, stirring up clouds of red dust. Amunophis invariably won, for by that time of the day Senmut was often very tired, and Amunophis would trot back to the stables with his head held high, Senmut trailing behind in grim amusement.
Hatshepsut needed such men of genius and great endurance. Her concentration, her sense of urgency never left her, and her policy makers, heralds, and scribes all prayed that they would not become ill under the choking burden she laid on them. But she, too, worked hard, not sparing herself, and gradually she saw to her satisfaction the subtle shifting of the balance of power. One by one the reins slipped into her hands.
One hot afternoon she went to see Aset's child for herself. She had thought of sending for the boy, but she decided it was better that she spend some time in the women's quarters to remind Aset and her followers whose finger it was that pressed steadily on the pulse of the palace.
She took Senmut and Hapuseneb and swept unannounced into Aset's reception room. Aset was playing at draughts with one of her maids, her thin elbows resting thoughtfully on the edge of the alabaster and ebony board. She was so engrossed that Hatshepsut approached her and stood waiting for a minute before the two players felt her presence. Aset jumped up, her knee catching the board and sending the pieces clattering to the floor, she and her servant falling with them in confusion.
Hatshepsut eyed the room. It was big and sunny and obviously not much used, for she knew that Aset and Thothmes were inseparable. But couch, tables, chairs, shrines, statues were all of gold, and the running friezes on the walls sparked dully, the smooth, willowy figures of people and animals and trees all inlaid with electrum. The evidence of a Pharaoh's indulgent hand was everywhere, and Hatshepsut made a quick mental note to ask Ineni, in his capacity as Treasurer, how much wealth Thothmes lavished on Aset. She looked down on the dark head with its hair spread in confusion over the tiles. At last she spoke. ''Rise, Aset. I have come to see your little one."
Aset sprang up, smiling slyly, the close-set eyes and thin mouth still
sending a wave of irritation through Hatshepsut, so that her chin rose and her own smile quickly faded. She had not seen the dancer for so long, and she had been prepared to make an effort to like the girl. But once again she felt the arrogant superiority of an upstart with bold dreams.
''Send your nurse for the boy," she said sharply. "We wait to pronounce an opinion on him. Pharaoh insists that he resembles my father."
"He does indeed!" Aset replied eagerly, turning to clap to her companion. As the other woman hurried out, Hatshepsut bit back the retort she had been about to make. How did Aset know of any such resemblance, seeing that she herself had probably never seen Thothmes the First? She could not imagine that her father would have had anything to do with this pert slip who looked like a slinky, half-starved cat. Again Hatshepsut wondered at Thothmes' monumental lack of discrimination. Perhaps Aset had been already so full of ambitions before Pharaoh conveniently stayed at Assuan, that she had put a spell on him.
While she mused, she questioned Aset closely about young Thothmes' routine: how he ate, how he slept, who his playmates were. Aset answered rapidly but with respect, her eyes often darting to the two tall, silent men who stood at each side of the Queen. They looked back at her without a word, their unwavering stares cold, challenging things. Finally the far door opened, and the nurse returned, holding by the hand a sturdy, dark youngster who, though still unsteady on his feet, struck out, unafraid of falling. As Hatshepsut watched him come to her over the polished floor, she felt her composure leave her. He was certainly a Thothmesid. His shoulders were flung back, and he carried himself straight. The round, black eyes sought her out immediately, fearlessly, questioningly. His features were strong and chunky, and his front teeth protruded beneath the little nose, still snubbed slightly with the softness of babyhood, giving him the predatory look of his grandfather.
He and the nurse came and bowed, the child bobbing confidently, a princely helmet falling over his eyes. Hatshepsut knelt as the nurse dropped his hand, beckoning him to come to
her. He toddled within her reach but would not be embraced, looking from her to his mother and back again while one stubby, short finger crept into his mouth. He sucked furiously, his calm gaze on Hatshepsut's face. He suddenly uttered a garbled word out of the corner of his mouth, the comforting finger still in place.
Hatshepsut looked up. "Senmut, what do you think?"
Senmut had been thinking of the years ahead, seeing the child as a young man, a thrusting, iron-willed, abrupt Thothmes the First. He was amazed at the smooth face and steady voice of the Queen, but he an-
swered her readily. **He indeed bears the stamp of the royal seed from whence he sprang."
''And you, Hapuseneb?"
Hapuseneb nodded slowly, his thoughts hidden, as usual, beneath an urbane, friendly exterior. ''I see your father, beyond any doubt," he agreed.
As Hatshepsut got to her feet and motioned the nurse to take the child away, Aset smirked, gratified.
Hatshepsut turned to Aset when the stocky little legs were out of sight. *i do not want to see him again in the helmet," she said. Though the words were kind and spoken quietly, they all heard the undertone of warning. ''My husband has proclaimed him Crown Prince, but he is yet in infancy and will go shaved and free as other children do. See that you do not fill his little head with silly and vain thoughts, Aset, or you and he will come to grief."
Aset bowed, her foxlike face a sullen mask.
Suddenly Hatshepsut smiled. "He is a beautiful boy, a true and worthy Prince of Egypt and a son for Thothmes to take pride in," she said. "See that you do not spoil him. Now go back to your game. I will not trouble you further."
Hapuseneb bent and gathered up the spilled pieces, setting them gravely back on the board. Aset prostrated herself once more, and the doors closed behind the three.
Alone again, Aset sat staring at nothing, frowning nervously, tearing at her nails with her sharp white teeth.
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