Child of the morning

by Gedge, Pauline, 1945-

  compunction he had exiled, weeded out, warned, and threatened while Thothmes was still a child. But now Thothmes' friends were the sons of his own friends, and Thothmes himself was untouchable and growing in power. Walking slowly to the dais, seating himself, and bending with a smile to the King, Senmut saw dimly ahead, but too rapidly nearing, a time when she would be ringed, hunted, fighting desperately to keep her throne. A pharaoh could not lose a crown he had never had as she had lost the promise of the throne held out to her by her father and then snatched away by her petulant husband. A king could only lose his kingdom by losing his life.

  The clamor of the feasting went on far into the night. The shrieks and laughter of the company echoed in every street of the city where the people also celebrated Pharaoh, but Senmut could not relax. Aset was there, covered in jewels, her thin face impassive throughout the procession of singers and dancers. Thothmes, too, was present, ringed by his friends, eating and drinking in a mood of sullen watchfulness.

  Finally the noise abated, the merriment slowed and faltered as the dawn approached, and Hatshepsut removed the cone from her head and rose, dismissing them all. In an hour the Hymn of Praise would be sung, and the business of the day would commence. She wanted to bathe and put on a clean kilt before going to the temple for the morning's worship.

  Senmut knew she would not need him until she summoned him to the audience chamber, and as she went out, preceded by her Fan Bearer on the Right Hand, her Seal Bearer, and her bodyguards, he edged to Hapuseneb and tugged gently at his kilt. The High Priest turned.

  ''Come with me into the garden," Senmut said in a low tone, 'i need your advice."

  Hapuseneb nodded quickly, and together they pushed their way through the throng. They went under the cloisters to the garden, where a few heated diners ambled in twos and threes, enjoying the cool breeze and talking softly while their runners lit their way with lamps and their slaves walked behind them. Senmut and Hapuseneb slipped away from them, gliding under the trees in the direction of the north wall of the temple. At last they stopped. There was no sound, and only the pale, cold glow of the setting moon showed them the black outline of the wall, looming above the tops of the trees. Senmut motioned Hapuseneb down, and they sank together onto the shadowed grass. Hapuseneb tucked his pleated linen around his feet and waited while Senmut crossed his legs and gazed at the red soles of his feet, letting the roar of the guests and the warm fumes of the wine he had drunk recede from his mind before he began.

  He glanced quickly around the deserted garden. ''Hear me, Hapuseneb, and then give nie your thoughts, putting aside all our differences in the name of Pharaoh." The other nodded briefly in the darkness, and Senmut gathered his words, his tongue unwilling to give them life. ''I am Chief Steward, and as such all the comings and goings of the palace are under my eye. I am also a Steward of Amun, and nothing in the temple escapes me. For long, under the King, I have controlled the business of the dispatches and the audiences absolutely; and I can say, as you can, that Egypt is under my hand as a carpet whose every thread was woven with my knowledge. But I feel as if I am losing my grip, Hapuseneb. Somehow there are cracks appearing in every corner of my control, and 1 am helpless, for the wedges driven are hammered in by the Crown Prince himself. I see the days of Pharaoh numbered." Hapuseneb stirred but did not speak, and Senmut went on, stumbling a little. ''It is time to stop sneaking in the shadows, guarding the Horus Throne with spies, eyes that never sleep, eyes that grow weary in the face of a burgeoning strength." He passed his lean hand across his face. ''I will say it plainly. If we do not do away with Thothmes immediately, then it will be too late, and Pharaoh and all she has worked for will be gone."

  ''It is already too late." Hapuseneb's deep voice broke the stillness that rushed in when Senmut stopped speaking. "I, too, have seen the seed sprouting in the women's quarters and on the training ground. I have cast about in my mind for something to wither it, but it is too late. If we had murdered Thothmes when he was still in his infancy, the deed would have gone unnoticed, for children die often, and of many diseases. But not now, not when he is healthy and strong as a running calf."

  "Nehesi suggested it to me and to Pharaoh, but she forbade it."

  "She would forbid it now if she were here. She is no greedy, rapacious, unscrupulous upstart like the Prince's mother. She is a noble woman, who rules with the blessing of the God but who also insists on staying within the law of the God. Thothmes is her own flesh. No matter what, she will let him live."

  "She will go under."

  Hapuseneb nodded quietly. "I think so. But she would rather perish than offend her Father, and murder is an offense that would reek in his nostrils."

  "What of you and I, Hapuseneb? I care nothing for my life as long as I can serve her. Can we not do this thing in secret?"

  "It would not be secret for long. How can you destroy a youth when he is full of vigor and the love of life and not have an accusing finger pointed? The finger would point straight at the One, and she would suffer, not us."

  ''We should have poisoned him years ago, in spite of her orders!"

  'Then she would have been relieved and perhaps even grateful, but her trust would have waned, and eventually we would have been dismissed. No, she knows that in staying her hand she destroys herself, yet she will not move. She is a great, great King.''

  "Can we do nothing, my friend?" Senmut spoke softly, his voice dead. "Must we see Egypt in the hands of Thothmes after all? And what of Her Highness Neferura?"

  "Neferura is safe. Thothmes must marry her to secure the throne, and that he will undoubtedly do. You know that the One plans to have them betrothed."

  'To put off the hour of her defeat! But Thothmes will not be fooled. He is not as full of principles and mercies as she. Once he has Nef crura—"

  "Perhaps." Hapuseneb spread out his hands. "I just do not know. We can only serve as we have always done in the past, doing our best to lengthen her years. She has handled Egypt as if she was raising a beloved child. Even Thothmes must acknowledge her ability. Beyond that—"

  "But if it were done and over with and Thothmes were dead, her anger might be swift and fall on us, but afterward—afterward—"

  "She would feel the guilt, and Thothmes dead would finish her as surely as Thothmes alive. Face it, Senmut. It is not her will that her nephew-son should die. If it had been, the deed would have been done a long, long time ago, by you, by me, by Nehesi, by Menkh, by any one of us who serve her."

  He was vehement, his words carrying to Senmut forcefully, but Senmut suddenly raised a hand and cut him off. They sat craning into the darkness, breath stilled and ears straining. There was a rustling under the trees to their right. Senmut put a finger to his lips and slowly began to stand, his arm shooting out and the shrubs waving frantically as he sprang. As Hapuseneb got up, he saw Senmut drag forth a small, scrawny figure. It was a little we'eb priest, his linen tucked around his thin waist, his face contorted with fear. He clutched half a goose in one hand, the other hand flailing the air as Senmut's grip tightened.

  "What have we here?" Hapuseneb said grimly. Senmut released his grasp. The forlorn figure collapsed, shaking, into a heap on the ground. "One of my we'ebs, I believe. Get up, foolish one, and tell me what you are doing out here, far from your cell?"

  Senmut felt a mist rise before his eyes. It was not Hapuseneb who spoke so quietly, with a soft threat in his tones, but glib and treacherous Menena. He felt again the sick fear as he had cowered behind the sycamore and the pain of the bark as it had scraped his cheek.

  The lad got to his feet, ciiddling the meat to his bony breast and looking at the two mighty men whose rings glittered wickedly in the moonlight and whose cold eyes were hard and angry.

  '*! know what he was doing," Senmut answered, his voice thick and his head whirling. ''He has been to the God's kitchens, for a we'eb works from dawn until dusk and his belly is always empty."

  ''He must have heard all," Hapuseneb said slowly. "What shall we
do with him, Senmut?"

  The boy winced and uttered a muffled, unintelligible sound, but he made no move to run.

  Senmut stepped to his side, his heart suddenly aching for the past, for the sunny days full of hope and promise, for the dreams of greatness, for the child he had been. "It is true, is it not?" he asked levelly. "You heard?"

  The youth nodded.

  "What are you going to do?"

  "I do not know. Mighty One." The voice was ragged and nervous, but the bright eyes did not waver.

  "You have courage! Tell me, whom do you serve?"

  "I serve Amun, King of the gods, and I serve Pharaoh."

  "And what of the Prince?"

  "Him, too, I serve. But I do not serve men with murder in their hearts." The little chin rose defiantly, but the hands that held the goose shook.

  Hapuseneb drew in his breath with a hiss. "He has sealed his death papers! If Thothmes hears of this, we are dead before our time!"

  "I do not think so," Senmut said as he squatted, looking full into the thin face. "Do you want to go to Pharaoh with your story, we'eb?"

  "I should, but perhaps Pharaoh knows of your plot and would kill me."

  "Pharaoh indeed knows of our plot, for it is a very old plot, never finished. But Pharaoh will not let us do what we would like to do, so if you go to him, he will not harm you. Do you believe me?"

  "No."

  Senmut rose, still trapped in the memory of the youth who had gone back to bed instead of beating on the palace doors. Only now did he realize that that one failing had haunted him afl his life. He reached his decision quickly. "Hapuseneb, I agree with you. We wifl have done with all plots. I must have been mad! Let afl follow as it must, and may Amun's wifl be done." He turned to the we'eb priest, taking his arm firmly. "You and I, my little cock, will go immediately to Pharaoh, and you will tell her of all you heard."

  Hapuseneb was motionless, but the boy gasped. "You wifl take me to the river and slit my throat!"

  '*I swear on the name of Pharaoh, Living Forever, that you will not die," Senmut replied. ''Hapuseneb, I thank you for your ear. The dawn comes, and she awaits her hymn. Sing it with a clear conscience!" He laughed grimly and pulled the squirming boy away across the lawn, the darkness already giving way to the colorless, first light of morning.

  Hapuseneb did not wait. He turned and went swiftly to his own entrance, beneath the frowning likeness of the God Thothmes the First, Egypt's avenger.

  *'It is too soon to disturb Pharaoh," Senmut said to the little priest. **We must wait until the High Priest has sung Ra into the sky. Come to my palace, and have breakfast with me. What would you like to eat? What is your name?"

  ''Smenkhara, Great One." He was bewildered and still suspicious. Senmut kept a tight hold on him as they crossed the broad avenue that ran to the royal water steps and went on under the trees to his own paths and his own gilded door.

  ''How long have you served in the temple?"

  'Two years. My brother is a Master of Mysteries."

  "Indeed? And what will you be?"

  They passed the guards and entered the dark hall. Senmut led him to the right, through the audience chamber and into his private bedroom, calling for Paere.

  The boy looked about, his curiosity edging out the fear. He had heard of the magnificence of Pharaoh's favorite and of his tentacles of power. He had seen him sometimes, walking into the temple with Pharaoh, both shining like gods. He was seized with a shy awe.

  "I do not know, Mighty Steward. I would like to become High Priest some day."

  "So you have ambitions, too!" Senmut released his grip and sent Paere for food and milk. He indicated the pretty carved cedar chair, and the boy perched nervously on the edge of it, watching as Senmut took off his wig. When Ta-kha'et ambled drowsily into the room, still in her sleeping robe, her feet bare, she found her lord deep in conversation with a grubby little priest who looked as though he had never eaten a good meal in his life. They were both stuffing hot bread and pieces of goose into their mouths, talking gaily all the while.

  Hatshepsut received them an hour later. She was dressed and ready to go to the temple, but she sat obligingly, smiling while the boy stammered and blushed. He did not want to make trouble for the Chief Steward, a man who had fed him and spoken to him gently, with understanding; but

  Senmut frowned at him and pushed him forward roughly, whispering to him that he must do his duty. The boy prostrated himself and told his tale, afraid to lift his eyes to the tall, graceful woman who wore the cobra and the vulture on her golden helmet.

  When he had finished, Hatshepsut was no longer smiling. She told him to rise, seeking Senmut's eye over his head, a query on her lips. He nodded, and she returned to the little priest.

  ''Smenkhara, you have done well,'' she said. ''We are pleased that you are a faithful servant and that you put your trust in us. I will look into this matter, for the charges are grave, but I must have your promise that you will never speak to anyone about what you have heard. I will punish in my own way and in my own time." The child murmured, ''Yes, Majesty." "Now, what can I do for you? Would you like to carry my incense this morning, and we will worship the God together?"

  He gaped at her, his face radiant, and she sent him to wait for her outside. When she and Senmut were alone, she turned on him angrily. "You were careless, and Hapuseneb also was foolish. Well I know your thoughts, Senmut, and Hapuseneb's and Nehesi's and all the others. I know, too, of Thothmes' thrusting eagerness, his will to ride over me and fling me aside. But I will have no murder!" She stood before him, emphasizing her words by beating her fist against her faience-inlaid collar. "I will not say it again. And if I find you implicated again in anything like this, I will have you disciplined as any common criminal." Her eyes bit at him, and she turned away in disgust. "Thothmes is my own blood. I will not have him harmed."

  "Then at least send him away."

  "And have him intriguing behind my back? No! Why did you bring the child to me? Why did you not deal with him yourself?"

  "Majesty, may I sit down?" She nodded, startled, and he sank into a chair.

  "I brought him because today the judgment of Amun is at last visited on a frightened, cowardly we'eb priest who did not do his duty."

  "I do not understand."

  He smiled wearily. "Once I, too, was a hungry priest, stealing from the kitchens of the God in the middle of the night. And like this little one, I heard something that it was not good for me to hear." She was suddenly still, her body tense. He noticed but went on. "Your sister. Her Highness Osiris-Neferu-khebit, did not die of a disease. Menena had her poisoned."

  The weight rolled from him, and in the silence, broken only by her shallow breaths, he got up lightly and went to her.

  She grew pale, and from deep within the murky depths of nights long

  gone a memory floated, hazy and jumbled. The fragment of a dream. Neferu with the body of the poor imprisoned Httle fawn and Nebanum standing with the key in his hand. But had it been Nebanum?

  ''I wanted to go to your father, to tell him all as this priest has told you all, but I was afraid, thinking that the One wished the thing to be done. While I struggled and agonized, the cup was prepared, and Neferu died."

  Her shoulders slumped suddenly, and she sighed, unconsciously feeling for her amulet with her fingers. ''At last, at last. I have seen you hate Menena, and I have long wanted to know the reason for your fear. Over all the years I myself have pondered her death and feared. Why, I did not know. But now all is clear. And you think that my father wished the death of his daughter?"

  The memory surfaced and exploded. Not Nebanum. Of course not. The murderous red eyes of the Mighty Bull drilled her with pain.

  "I still do not know. Majesty, but I think so."

  ''Why? Why would he bring harm to her? She wanted only to be left in peace!"

  "Because even then he saw the Double Crown on your head, and if she had lived, on whose head would it be now? Thothmes your husband wo
uld have married Neferu and died in his turn, and his son would be calling you a name other than Pharaoh."

  She put a hand on his chest, and he saw her eyes fill with tears. "It is so. I know it. I have guessed. Indeed while I was yet a child, a hint of this evil thing brought bad dreams to me, but it is a hard knowledge to bear, even now." She struggled proudly to control her face. "Go, Senmut. I am glad of your trust—and angry. I want only to go to the temple and say my prayers with this most fortunate boy. You could have slit his throat and cast him into the river, you know, just as he said." She smiled at him, a tiny, twisted grimace.

  He kissed her hand and left her, a free man, striding to the officials who awaited him in the audience chamber.

  Before the winter was over, Hatshepsut betrothed Thothmes to a glowing Neferura and then immediately sent him and his troops north on maneuvers. But she had made it quite clear to him that this was not marriage, only a promise.

  He had sneered a little, standing before her in the throne room, his arms folded across his chest. "You have committed yourself. Majesty," he had said. "You may send me here and there on errands and expeditions, but sooner or later you must take Neferura to the temple and give her to me, for I am no longer a boy."

  ''I have eyes!" she retorted. ''Oh, Thothmes, why do you prickle all over when we have dealings with each other? Did I not promise you this throne one day?"

  'Tes, but now I do not believe that you ever intend to give it to me. When I was a child I was in awe of you. But now I am becoming a man, and still you shut me out of the audience chamber—my own chamber, the place where I as Pharaoh am entitled to sit. I think you intend the throne for Neferura."

  'Tou are stupid if you really believe these things and yet shout your doubts all over the palace. What is to stop me getting rid of you? Then Neferura could indeed wear the Double Crown and marry some general to give Egypt heirs."