''Because you know as well as I that Neferura is sweet and gentle and kind and utterly unsuited to be Pharaoh."
"Then what of Meryet?" Hatshepsut was not amused. She knew now that his words were true. Neferura did not have the burning, eating ambition that she herself had had at that age. Although Hatshepsut loved her and desperately wanted the crown for her, Neferura could never control Thothmes or any other ruthless young noble who coveted the kingdom.
Thothmes laughed scornfully. "Meryet! She is full of spit and fire and already casts her eye over your younger advisers like the bitch she is. But as Pharaoh? She is shallow, like the river in summer. She cares nothing for you or Egypt." He shrugged, coming to stand close to her. "I will accept the betrothal, providing a marriage follows. I am content to soldier, for I love the bow, the spear, and the knife; and as you have so often said, I am still young. But do not wait too long!"
"You forget yourself! I am Egypt, and if I give you an order, it must be obeyed! Do not try my patience, Thothmes. You are arrogant and a fool, but because your school days are not yet over, I will forgive you. If your cheap mother had not filled your head full of rubbish while you were yet in her care, we might have worked well together. But before you could talk, she loaded you with hatred for me, and you cannot see past her spiteful words."
He mounted the steps and stood with one foot above the other, balancing easily on his long legs. "You have taken my crown from me and thus broken the law. My mother has nothing to do with it. And as for us working together, do we not do so? Am I not now a Captain of Retainers, and will I not go higher in the army at your command? Do I not sweat on the training ground for you, as all in the land sweat at your bidding?"
When he had gone she sat alone, cupping her chin in her hand, looking
into the distance. Her silver walls were lit as the stray rays of the sun found them, and the breeze reaching her was scented with the flowers from her acres. Around her, her own likeness ran, indomitable, omnipotent, her enemies frozen in an attitude of eternal defeat. Still she brooded uneasily, the square jaw hidden in the painted palm.
''Ah, Thothmes," she breathed into the unaccustomed moment of silence, ''would that you had been my son!''
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That night, for the first time, she felt the press of the years. As she waited for Senmut in the twilight of her room, she held her mirror close to her face, searching for a wrinkle, the suspicion of a fold, telling herself that at thirty she could not expect the features she had had at fifteen. But the woman who gazed back at her had the limpid, clear eyes of her youth and skin as taut and flawless as ever. She stood, looking down at her naked body, the limbs flowing smoothly to her small feet, the well-muscled stomach, the breasts that did not sag.
AH the intimations of age are in my own mind, she told herself, putting the mirror down and walking to the couch. My head is filled with endless decisions and policies. My thoughts are as cramped and bent as an old woman's.
She heard him come to the door and pause. The guard admitted him, and she saw him with new eyes, too: tall, spare, all the tight muscles kept trim by daily exercise at the bow and the chariot, the face haughty and all-knowing, the dark eyes ringed, the sensuous lips curving in a smile as he bowed. He was a man, he had been a man for so long, and she had loved him for so long. Then why the sudden searching for lines about the piercing eyes, for a fold above the jeweled girdle?
He sensed her mood at once and did not speak, going instead to the head of the couch and smoothing the hot forehead, massaging away the worries of the day.
She stroked the fur beneath her and smiled, feeling her body relax, but her mind raced on under the deft hands. She reached up, drawing him down to her, seeking his lips hungrily, but tonight the spending of her passion could not blot out Thothmes' face as he mocked her in the throne room. She slept unsatisfied, Senmut's arms about her, still feeling jaded in body and soul.
In the spring, when Thothmes returned from the north a Captain of Fifty, she sent him away again, this time into the desert to inspect the garrisons. She knew that she was hurting Neferura, who said good-bye to him with tears; but she also felt the quiet, almost audible crumbling, the
minute changes in the air and at the table and in men's eyes. She ruthlessly told Thothmes' commander to do a thorough job and keep the Prince busy for six months. She wished that she, too, were going somewhere, anywhere. The palace had become oppressive to her, a hollow building full of smiling, bowing snakes; and she went more and more to the temple, where Amun waited for her in the dark, waited to share with her the secrets of his immortal mind. She went to her own temple, too, day after day, kneeling before herself and her father and the God as if she could wrest from the images more power, more time. Oh, more time. In the dark recesses of the shrines and on the roofs of the terraces her priests sang of her beauty and her omnipotence, the music falling about her like golden rain. She stood on the second ramp and looked down her avenue to the river, thinking of Mentu-hotep-hapet-Ra, whose temple had been partially razed to make room for her own. He had been like her, in love with the mystery and consecration of the valley and of the country. He had sent to paradise itself, to the home of the gods, for things with which to beautify himself and Egypt.
She almost ran to her litter, knowing now why Amun was still not satisfied with all she had given him. She flew to the palace library, where all the scrolls, new and old, valuable and worthless, lay piled neatly in vast wooden chests around the walls. The librarian left his cosy seat and prostrated himself, astounded.
"Punt!" she gasped as Nofret and her servants tumbled into the room after her.
"Majesty?"
"Punt! Punt! Find me the maps and writings of Osiris-Mentu-hotep-hapet-Ra, he that went to Ta-Neter, the holy land of the gods. Bring them to me in the audience rooms. Hurry up! Duwa-eneneh, bring Senmut to me, and Nehesi."
"Nehesi drills the Braves of the King, Majesty."
"Then send him when he has finished."
She swept out, rushing through the passages while her retinue hurried along behind her. She ordered the desk in the audience chamber cleared. She needed Ineni, and she sent Amun-hotpe to bring him from Karnak, where he was overseeing his latest work, pillared porticoes of sandstone lined with her statues.
Ineni and the librarian arrived together; Ineni still had stone dust on his hands and his kilt. A moment later Senmut strode in, and they settled themselves around the table. It felt like a council of war.
Hatshepsut laid her hands on the table. "Now!" she said. "Librarian, what do you have for me?"
''Very little, Majesty," he admitted. "Your illustrious forefather left only an account of his journey and a list of the marvels he brought back for the God."
''A map?"
''Of a sort. In your forefather's time a map was not needed, for Egypt and Ta-Neter traded often."
"So say the legends," Ineni reminded him. "For many, many hentis the name of Punt has been but a tale told to children."
"But before the Hyksos invaded us, did not our ships ply the shores of Ta-Neter?" Senmut broke in. "The ancient monuments are full of paintings showing such a journey."
"True." Hatshepsut nodded. "Librarian, what was the most important thing to be found in Punt?"
He smiled. "Why myrrh, of course," he answered.
She nodded. "Myrrh. The holiest of perfumes. I have another vision, Senmut. I see the gardens of my temple a sea of beautiful green myrrh trees. The fragrance of them will fill the nostrils of my Father Amun, and then he will be satisfied."
Senmut leaned forward. "Let me understand Your Majesty," he said carefully. "Do you mean to mount an expedition to seek the holy land?"
"I do, and you understand very well. The Hyksos are no more, and it is time to reopen the ancient route between Egypt and Ta-Neter." They looked at each other.
"I do not know," Ineni said slowly, "but I have heard that it is a long, long way. The ships may not re
turn."
"They will go, and they will come back," she said decisively. "My Father has spoken. Myrrh he shall have, and men in times to come shall remember who it was that gave Ta-Neter back to Egypt."
Nehesi came in then, still hot and sweating from the sun that filled the training ground. He handed his bow and spear to the guard at the door, bowed, and took his seat at Hatshepsut's side, as was his right. "I apologize for my late entrance," he said. "Is the Seal needed. Majesty?"
She told him briefly what she was planning to do and took the faded map from the librarian's hands, dismissing him and rolling out the scroll so that they all could see the spidery marks upon it.
Nehesi shook his head. "My mother told me of this fabled land, but I know of no man who has been there and returned. She said that it was a sky land, from whence the gods descended."
"In truth the gods came from there," Hatshepsut said, "but it is no cloud country. Mentu-hotep reached it, and we will, too."
They stared at the map as if hypnotized. "It would take many months,"
Ineni said. He thought to himself that it could not be done, and he glanced at Senmut, but Senmut was tracing the outlines on the scroll with his fingers, musing. Nehesi's eyes were alight.
Hatshepsut waited until they had thought a little. ''Senmut, I must spare you from your duties with me," she said. 'Tou will go and command the expedition in my name. Nehesi, you also will go. For the time being Tahuti may carr- the Royal Seal. Take the map and study it. Talk to the librarian, and then come to me with a plan. I can aflFord as many ships as you wish, and if they are to be specially constructed, I will put my docks at your disposal. Is there anything more to say^"
They shook their heads doubtfully, a little stunned by the swift change in their daily lives. She dismissed them peremptorily—all but Senmut.
When they were alone, she turned to him. He still sat at the table, his arms folded on its surface, his face carefully noncommittal.
"W'ell^" she said. "You do not approve, I can tell. What is the matter?"
"I think that the venture is a worthy one and will bring you great honor, but I do not want to go. Wlno will order your household while I am away? And with Nehesi gone, too, who will captain your bodyguards^ Majesty, I implore you, send others. There are many capable sailors in Thebes."
''WTiat you are saying is that you do not wish to leave me defenseless. Is it not so^" She smiled faintly. 'Tour words are true, of course. You and Nehesi are my right and my left hands. But I have other hands, Senmut, many of them, and this voyage is ver' important to me. I want success, and I can only ensure it by sending the best Egpt has to oflFer."
"What of Thothmes and his cohorts?' Are you not afraid that with Nehesi and me gone, in all probabilitv' for many months, they may press upon you^"
"I do not know, but this is the time to find out I can keep Thothmes busy in ever' corner of the country-. You have been burdened with my affairs for a long time, Senmut. WTien was the last time you took a day to walk or fish or lie in your boat?*"
"I care nothing for idleness," he replied harshly. "Permit me to say, Majesty, that it is madness to deprive yourself of your loyal men at a time when your fate hangs in the balance!"
"So that is how you see it?*"
"Not only I. Every day Thothmes grows stronger, more brazen in his impudence. Let me stay, Hatshepsut! You need me!"
"I am a poor Pharaoh indeed if I must forever hide behind the broad backs of my officials," she retorted quietly. "And if that time has indeed come, as you say it has, then it were better for me to die. I will never be a figurehead, Senmut, an empty, pretty shell where there was once total
power. Go as you arc ordered, and do not fear. When you return, I will still be here."
He bit back the angry reply and rose. ''I am yours to command," he said curtly. ''I will go. I will consult with Nehesi, and you may expect progress within a few days."
''Good. 1 am content."
He bowed and swept out, calling for his staff bearer, and she heard them pass through the outer hall and the passage beyond. She called for her Fan Bearer and for Nofret, and while she waited for them, she thought of how life would be without him. She knew that he was right when he spoke of the foolishness of sending them away at a time when her grip on the Crook and the Flail was loosening. For a moment she was tempted to change her mind, to call him back, but she did not. She wanted to test her own words. Did she still control Egypt, or did Senmut? Her ka's warnings drifted through her mind, the voice muted but the tone still faintly amused: ''He has great ambition . . . give him room to move or he will destroy himself and you!" She tapped the table absently with her fingers, frowning.
If he stayed, there would be more years of desperately holding on, clinging with breaking wrists and tired arms to the crown, bolstered by his ruthless love. Thothmes would grasp the crown, too, pulling and straining, until perhaps it would split in two, as it once had been, a divided crown, a divided kingdom.
Nofret entered and bowed, waiting. Hatshepsut sighed and got up. He would go, taking all laughter and joy and security with him. The last test she must face alone. If he came back and found all as it was—if he came back and found her gone—
She tossed her head and strode out of the chamber, her chin held high.
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It took four months to build the ships, five of them, and equip the expedition. Senmen had organized the victuaHng. Hatshepsut had told him to take linen and weapons and other goods with which to trade, and day after day he had listed and gathered and checked. Menkh had begged her to let him go, too. But she had refused, making him her bodyguard while Nehesi was away; and together they had gone often to the docks, watching the loading. She and Nehesi and Senmut had spent long evenings poring over the only map left that might point the way to the mysterious country, and Senmut at last had rolled up the scroll and tucked it into his belt. They would sail north with the current to the delta, then cut east through the canal the ancestors had built and out into the Red Sea. To the north there was nothing, just a vast ocean; so they decided to go south, hugging the east coast. From the moment the prows broke through the canal, they would be on their own, with nothing but stories and legends to guide them. Nehesi sat patiently in the library with the old librarian, hearing the tales of Ta-Neter over and over, trying to fix in his mind any detail that might be useful. Senmut and Hapuseneb paced the temple gardens, laying out the policies Hapuseneb would follow, struggling to pierce the future, to see what the months ahead would hold, plotting dark strategies that might, or might not, be needed.
The summer was over, and high in the southern mountains Isis shed the Tear that would swell and multiply and become a good Inundation, carrying the ships away from Thebes and into the unknown.
Senmut bid Ta-kha'et farewell the day before he left. He was truly sorrowful, for he would miss her and think of her often. She clung to him, crying, incoherent, begging him not to go. He instructed Senmen to keep an eye on her, leaving with his brother the scroll with the words that would free Ta-kha*et and give her his wealth if he himself did not return. As he went down the passages of his home and out into his lovely, well-laid gardens, her sobs followed him. He did not look back. He was grimly determined to come back, even if he had to crawl every inch on his knees. He knew that he would sit under his sycamores again and play at dice with Ta-kha'et. But he was not so sure that Pharaoh would be waiting for him.
On the last night Senmut lay quietly with Hatshepsut in the dimness of her chambers. They had made love gently, speechlessly, as if they would never again hold each other. No intuitions, no presentiments gave him hope. In the silent, fleeting darkness he cradled her in agony, feeling as her husband Thothmes had done. Her whims, her fancies, her clearsighted, peaceful policies, her deep love for Egypt—all were mixed together and totally undecipherable to any save her God.
When dawn came and the darkness ran away with sudden, unfeeling fickleness, they got up, and she knelt
before him, kissing his feet. As she rose and embraced him, she whispered, ''May the soles of your feet be firm." They were the only words spoken that night, words of farewell. He kissed her softly and let her go.
On the wharf the sailors, soldiers, engineers, and diplomats who were to accompany him were already stowing away their gear. The people of Thebes were drifting down to the river to see the ships cast off. Senmut went to Menkh's apartment, where he bathed, changed his kilt and his sandals, and put a simple brown leather helmet on his shaved head. He instructed and admonished his disappointed friend as he moved between bedroom and bathing room, talking feverishly until it was time to go.
With his staff bearer and his runners before and Ta-kha'et and his slaves behind, Senmut walked slowly through the city to the wharf, where Nehesi was already on board the first ship. Hatshepsut stood on the ramp, her face drawn and her eyes circled. She was arrayed in her coronation robes, for this was a solemn occasion. Amun sat beside her in his golden Barque, the priests having dragged his sledge to the very edge of the water. Hapuseneb stood near the God and the other priests, the incense clouding him. Thothmes had planted himself beside Hatshepsut, gazing impassively over the crowds and the river. Senmut and his household bowed to them all, and he passed up the ramp and into the body of the ship. He was shocked to see Thothmes there, back so soon from the southern garrisons, and he greeted Nehesi briefly, coldly, his eyes on Thothmes' brooding face. After a pause during which Senmen, papers in hand, his scribe trotting at his heels, went from ship to ship making a final, anxious check, the sacrifices to Amun and Hathor, Goddess of the winds, began. The sails filled, and the burdened vessels began to move into the current.
The crowds started to cheer, but Senmut hardly heard the confused uproar. A sudden and violent premonition shook his body, and his eyes met hers in a last burst of regret. Her face was calm under the red and white crown, shining in the sun, but with her big, dark eyes she told him of her love and her torment, and he could not look away. The shouting grew fainter, and the wind and the creaking of the ropes and the fluttering
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