She leaped down, throwing the reins to Menkh, and went to look, laughing happily at the sight of Thothmes' scowl. 'Tou did not think I could do it, did you?" she said. 'Tou should have consulted my generals before agreeing so glibly to the wager! They had seen my skill long before you were born. Crown Prince!''
''Remove the spear," he ordered, and the retainer wrenched it free. '*! have not yet run, Hatshepsu, so do not crow too loudly. You may yet lose."
''How can I? Mine was dead in the center!"
They walked to the edge of the circuit, and Thothmes mounted quickly, settling himself and snatching his spear from the soldier. Hat-shepsut removed her gloves and handed them to Menkh. She shaded her eyes with her hand as Thothmes cantered onto the circuit and picked up speed. He was obviously not going to walk through it first. They heard him shout, and his horses stretched out. They all screamed encouragement, even Hatshepsut, caught up in the thrill of the careening chariot, the lithe, bending figure. His spear came down. He was cornering; he had reached the straight, slapping the horses with the reins clutched in one naked hand. The white line loomed suddenly, the target blurred. He threw with a gasping curse. Before the spear hit the target she was running, the soldiers behind her. He leaped from his moving chariot, pelted over the dirt, and came up, panting.
She was doubled up with mirth. ''Embrace me, Thothmes! The gods took your spear and guided it! See! Where is my rent? Plugged by your tip! A perfect throw. Two perfect throws!"
Menkheperrasonb pulled out the spear, and indeed there was only the one hole, very slightly wider now than it had been before.
She burst out laughing again.
''Who wins?" he asked abruptly.
She stopped laughing and regarded him, feigning surprise. "Why, I do! I threw first."
"But if I had thrown first, I would have won!"
"Perhaps, but you did not. So I win."
"You do not! We both hit the center, and in agreement with the wager we both must win!"
"But, my dear Thothmes, that is impossible." Suddenly they were both sober, looking at each other with no thought now of the game. "We cannot both win, and we cannot both lose. One of us must leave the field, and it will not be I."
"Nor I."
"Then shall we run again?"
"No. This game can only be played once, and there is no going back. No second chances."
"I know. So I will take Menkh and my chariot and ride beside the river. You can stay here on the training ground and keep practicing!" Before he could retort, she was standing in the chariot with Menkh, and in another moment she had left them behind in her dust.
Thothmes watched her whirl away in the direction of the water; then he got into his chariot and raised his whip to the two sweating horses. "We will continue! My spear! Nakht, set up another target!" Nakht ran to do Thothmes' bidding, but the soldiers who had gathered to watch barely heard him. They were looking toward the little cloud of swiftly dissipating dust.
Thothmes spent the rest of the day in frustrated rage, an anger that had nothing to do with the outcome of the contest. He hated her, hated her. He seethed as he wrestled with Min-mose and threw him. He burned as he swam in the river and was still livid as he ate his evening meal in his own banqueting hall, surrounded by his friends. Her pretty, sundrenched face was before him, her low, teasing tones ringing in his ears. When he pushed his plate away and went into the garden, there she was, her mocking smile, trim waist, and slim thighs towering over him. He spat at the statue and turned from the impassive, uncaring face, wandering back to his trees and his paved walkways. The terrible hatred boiling in
his veins suddenly turned into a devouring lust for the woman who rode her chariot like a man and could order the lives of anyone she chose. He sat down beside the nodding, sweet poppies, tearing one up by the roots and pulling at it absently. He saw her sway in her ridiculous, tiny kilts, her breasts jutting under the heavy golden collars she always wore, her eyes watching him unceasingly, always watching. He was seventeen. All his life he had hated her and admired her. Now there was something else, something born of his restless, growing, maddening dissatisfaction, a new channel opening in him, filled with his own blood and mixed with the fever that his father had sickened under and that Senmut and Hapuseneb and a hundred others had succumbed to as they passed in and out of the halls of power around her. He threw the mangled poppy away and drew up his knees, hugging his legs furiously. He was enraged and baffled by the calm, softly moving grasses, the slow dip and sway of the dark-branched trees, affronted that the world should be at peace while he was consumed. He groaned as he remembered the way she leaped into the chariot, her supple legs bending. He saw her pull on her gauntlets with long, eloquent fingers. He saw the generous mouth open to laugh, to laugh, always to laugh-—at him.
He got up and left his garden, walking once more to the riverbank, taking the path that ran beside the water the whole length of the royal domains. He passed his own gates and came to his mother^s gardens. But he strode on, passing her water steps and her gates. He came upon a group of guards. They questioned him briefly and let him through. His feet quickened of their own accord, and he began to run. He saw her lights twinkling gaily beyond him and to the left, and he turned up her wide avenue, trotting under her tall trees. He did not enter the banqueting hall but cut farther left and reached her own entrance.
A Follower of His Majesty stopped him. ''Greetings, Crown Prince. A fine night. Do you seek audience with Pharaoh?"
Thothmes nodded, looking past the man to the silent silver passage and the torchlight. *'Is the One within?"
''He is. You may pass." He stood aside and Thothmes walked in, slowly, pacing the empty corridors cautiously but smiling, burning. At her great double doors, beside her rough-hewn statues, he was stopped again. Two of her Followers barred his way.
Her herald rose from his seat and bowed to him. "Greetings, Crown Prince."
"Greetings, Duwa-eneneh. Is Mighty Horus gone to her couch?"
"I think not, but she is preparing to."
"I want to see her. Announce me."
Duwa-eneneh slipped into the room, closing the doors behind him, but he did not shut them fully. A ray of friendly yellow light streamed out onto Thothmes' feet. He heard soft conversation and then her light laugh. Duwa-eneneh came out, nodding to the guards. They lifted their spears and stood at attention. 'Tou may enter," the herald said, and Thothmes walked past him and into the room.
He had been there before but not often. To his aroused senses it seemed that he was suddenly enveloped in her perfume; the myrrh seeped from her body, her couch, her hangings, even her silver walls. Far to the rear the darkness fought with the light from her lamps, and he caught a glimpse of black treetops beyond the balcony. He looked at her from just beyond the doorway. She was standing by the couch in her sleeping robe, transparent, smooth, white linen that fell from her shoulders to the floor. Her head was uncovered, the blue-black hair curling under her chin and catching the light as she turned to look at him. He glanced at the table beside the couch, where her helmet and her armbands lay, and looked beyond them to the gold and turquoise, heavily lined box that nestled the royal insignia, the vulture of Nekhbet and the cobra of Buto. They sparkled and taunted him from their blue bed. He shifted his gaze and bowed.
She inclined her head slightly in return. ''Good evening, Thothmes! An odd time to be seeking audience! Do you want me to get dressed and come out to the training ground so that we may conclude our contest? Have you decided on other stakes?" She did not like the look of him. He seemed dazed, his eyes fixed on her. Deep within them an odd light flared steadily, as if he had been to the temple of Bast and drunk poppy juice.
He came closer, his step uncertain. ''Majesty, I wish to speak with you alone. Be pleased to dismiss Nofret."
Hatshepsut shook her head slightly. "Thothmes, I do not think that I want to be alone with you. I mean you no disrespect, but I do not trust you. Nofret stays."
He spread out
his hands. "I mean you no harm, Hatshepsu. I merely wish to talk. If you feel yourself in danger, you can always call for your bodyguards. Duwa-eneneh sits at your door to summon help if you need it." His lips curled faintly. "Do you fear me?"
"No, not you. But for the sake of my country I must not trust you. However, I am not a silly girl." She paused, considering. "Very well. Nofret, you can go. Wait for my summons in your own rooms." They were silent as Nofret bowed and backed to the door, opening it and disappearing quietly. "Now then. What do you want?" She was clearly impatient to hear him out so that she could dismiss him and go to bed.
He stood for a moment, irresolute, wanting to rush to her and take her in his arms. For just a moment he wondered what on earth he was doing, but she was smiling encouragingly at him, her eyebrows raised. He stepped nearer. ''Can we not have wine while we talk?" he asked. "Will you keep me standing?"
She inclined her head. 'There is wine on your right hand and a chair beside the wine. Did you come to chat, Thothmes?"
"Perhaps. I have a proposition to put to you." He turned and poured himself a cup of wine. He tossed it back with one gulp and poured another, feeling her amusement.
"Indeed? I am intrigued. Say on."
He sat down, pulling his long legs in under the chair. He wished that she, too, would sit. "I will come straight to the point. Majesty, and not keep you hovering by your bed for long. Here it is. We are agreed that you promised Neferura to me one day so that I may rule."
"Yes."
"But you will never give her to me, I know that."
"Well, I do not. Stop reading my mind, Thothmes."
"We both also know that I am almost full grown. When I am of age, soon, I can take with leisure what is mine, and you will be powerless to stop me."
"You may know that, but I do not. In the name of Amun, Thothmes, what are you up to?"
"Why can you and I not rule together?"
She slowly sat down on the couch, her eyes suddenly wary. "I do not yet follow your reasoning. Speak."
He waved an arm. "It is very simple. We can dissolve our differences in one swoop and both be satisfied. We will marry. Take me to the temple yourself, and I will have the Double Crown and be legitimized."
She looked at him blankly for a long time. He gazed back at her, his eyes filled with the fire that a moment before had been only pinpoints of yellow light. His handsome jaw was tight, the muscles flexing involuntarily.
"Is this a black joke?" She suddenly lifted her own cup, holding it out. He poured wine into it and sat down again. The room was very still.
"Not at all. f will not have to wait forever to have Neferura. You would thus be freed from the weight of all responsibility and all fear of me."
"It is not so simple," she said. "No, not at all. Your father came to me, Thothmes, with almost the same words you seek to woo me with. Because I was young and untried, I went with him to the temple, but I gave him a worthless crown and an empty rule. I am not such a fool as to believe that you are as soft and biddable as he was. I could never govern without
your constant interference. By marrying you I would immediately cease to be Pharaoh and become only Divine Consort, battling you to no avail. You would have Egypt—and me—in the palm of your hand." She took a long sip of wine and rose, holding the cup in both hands and turning her hard eyes upon him. ''Are you afraid to reach for the crown yourself? Do you see the bounds of my might as immeasureable? Do you quail? Can you not wait another few years and then tear the throne from under me?" She leaned forward suddenly. ''It is because you slaver for the crown now, but you are still afraid of me! You fear me and cannot make a move!"
He rose in one swift movement, dropping his cup, the red wine splashing over the floor. In two long strides he was upon her. "It has nothing to do with the crown!" he snapped, teeth bared in a snarl. "If I wanted it, I could have it tomorrow!"
"You lie," she said evenly. "You are still not quite ready to make such a move, and you know it! Why are you here, Thothmes? What do you really want?"
He snatched the empty cup from her hands and threw it into a corner. He grabbed her arms and forced them behind her back, pulling her toward him. "You," he said savagely. "It is you that I want, proud Pharaoh." He lunged for her mouth, but she twisted desperately. He released one arm, jerking her head back to face him, his fingers entwined brutally in her hair.
"Look at me, Hatshepsu," he screamed. "I am a man, and your lover is far away. I will be baited and teased by you no longer. I will have you, and you will not cry out, for if you do, I will crack your arm like a rotten stick before your guards can reach you." He wrenched her, and she cried out sharply. He kissed her, grinding his lips into her mouth, pressing himself against her until she thought that her back would break.
She suddenly tasted blood, her own or his she could not tell. With a burst of insane fury she tore at his face with her free hand, raking his cheek, scrabbling for his nose, and he had to change his grip. In a flash she had sunk her teeth into his shoulder, and he threw her away, yelping with pain. She ran to her shrine and picked up a heavy copper incense stand, brandishing it threateningly at him. Her fingers gingerly felt her mouth and came away red.
"You mad bitch!" he panted, rubbing his shoulder, preparing to lunge at her again.
She took the stand in both hands and swung it over her head so that it whistled. "Touch me again, and I will dash out your addled brains!" she shouted. "Keep your distance! You craven whelp, to attack me when I am unarmed! Now I see your mind! But to secure the throne by such a clumsy seduction is well beyond your powers, puppy!"
They glared across the room at one another, both shaking with rage and
exhaustion. He grabbed the wine jar and held it to his lips, drinking thirstily until it was empty. He wiped his mouth with a slow gesture and stood looking at her, his arms hanging at his sides. She still held the stand over one shoulder, her eyes following his every movement.
'*I am sorry," he said stiffly. *'I do not know what came over me. But you are wrong if you think that I want to take the throne in this crude way. I had no intention of forcing myself upon you when I entered your room tonight; I wanted only to marry you."
''Only?" She was panting. ''What is this word?"
"I love you," he said, not meeting her eye. "I hate you more than any other, and I love you more than any other. But I think that from now on, I will give up loving you and hate you all the more. You are a deep and wily trap, as my father found, to his undoing."
"You do not know what you are saying. Your father and I loved each other in our way, and he was happy. It would distress him to see you standing there with your mouth bloody and the madness of lust still in your eyes. You speak of love, but you do not know anything about it. At seventeen love is a consuming fire in the body, but the heart is still locked shut. That is why I pardon you for laying violent hands upon me. That is why I will not have you thrown into prison. Love? Do you care about my thoughts or my plans or my dreams? Go away! You are only a mad Thothmesid after all."
He grinned slowly. "Nevertheless, I wager that it would be glorious to lie with you."
"That you will never know. Even if I did take it into my head to admit you to my bed, I would still never, ever, give you my kingdom. I would rather marry Senmut, for he is well-seasoned and a cunning and able man. I would rather give him the Double Crown." She lowered the incense stand and turned to set it back beside Amun. "I can still have children, Thothmes. Shall I marry Senmut and give Egypt a son?"
His breath stopped, and he began to choke. He could not tell from her expression whether or not she was serious.
"Do you hate me that much, Hatshepsu?" he asked quietly.
She walked to him and laid an arm around his shoulders, stroking him gently. "I do not hate you at all. How many times must I say it, and still no one will listen? You bring my anger upon yourself with your wild doings and your threats. Have 1 not promised you Egypt some day?"
"Yes, when you are dead!"<
br />
"If your father still lived, would you intrigue against him and plot to take his divinity from him?"
"Of course not. He would be Pharaoh within the law."
"And so am I, for I am the law. If—if you become Pharaoh in your turn,
you will understand fully what that means. It is not a license to do what you please; it is a trust."
'Tou and your fine words! You have a silken tongue, aunt-mother. Well, I will slink away rebuked."
She suddenly embraced him, and he held her for a moment before they broke apart. ''I wish that we were not enemies," she said sadly.
He bowed awkwardly, overwhelmed and ashamed, leaving her quickly without looking at her. She watched him go and turned back, breathing a sigh of relief. Her mouth throbbed, and the muscles of her back were sore. She washed her face before she called for Nofret, a creeping regret and a new fear budding within her, magnified by the silence of the room. She knew that Thothmes would never speak to her of love or trust or family affection again. From now on she would have to look over her shoulder every day and double the guards at her door at night. When Nofret came, Hatshepsut got onto her couch and reached for the fur Senmut had given her. After her night-light was lit and the other lamps put out, she lay holding it to her, the tears trickling slowly down her cheeks.
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