He’d been grateful to me for saving Ramesses’ life the night of Pharaoh’s assassination. But he’d believed my confession today. What else could have turned him so vehemently against me?
“Such a situation has never occurred before,” Mentemtowe answered somewhat meekly. The vizier was his superior and crossing him was dangerous.
“Enough!” Iset cried, staring at Neferronpet. “This is not a debate! I speak as God’s Wife of Amen.” She addressed the judges. “You will not kill Neset’s child.” Her eyes swept the hall. “Anyone who so much as harms her child now or at any time in the future will face the wrath of Amen.” She addressed the judges sternly. “Do you understand?”
Pefroi quickly nodded. He turned around and addressed me. “Your sentence is deferred, Neset. But on the day you give birth your child will be taken from you in the birth bower and you will be led into Djeme’s courtyard and immediately executed.”
Iset sat down.
Mentemtowe addressed the scribes. “Make a copy of the transcript of this trial and hang it on the wall of the per’aa, so everyone may know the fate that awaits them if they raise a plot against Pharaoh. And now, this trial is over.”
I was unceremoniously herded from the hall along with the others who’d been convicted, jeered and spat upon as I passed the spectators who’d watched the trial. We were taken to a section of the per’aa where we’d be held until we either committed suicide or were dragged to the courtyard and burned. I stumbled along, numb, tears streaming down my cheeks. I’d awakened this morning as the future Chantress of Khonsu, with the prospect of a long and comfortable life. Now I had roughly six months to live, followed by a horrendous death and oblivion. Before Bunakhtef personally locked me in an empty room he cut my hands free then completely stripped me of everything but my talisman and tossed me a plain woolen skirt in exchange. Humiliated, I sank to the floor in a corner, covering myself as best I could with the garment, knees drawn up to my chest, head on my knees, too distressed by what I’d endured before the Great Kenbet to even call upon my god for comfort.
***
It was evening, three days after the trial concluded. I was lying on my back on a thin straw pallet on the floor of my bare windowless room in the per’aa. The room was scarcely large enough to move around in, a storage space that smelled strongly of onions. I was hungry, thirsty, hot, alone. I stank. My body was covered with a mixture of dried sweat and dirt. For the last few hours there’d been blessed silence, not the three day’s worth of bloodcurdling screams from men and women burning to death just outside the per’aa in the forecourt of Djeme, beside the garden I’d cared for so lovingly, nor the bloodthirsty cheers of the crowds that had gathered to watch the immolations. The consequences of my lie to save Pharaoh were now all too real. I didn’t regret I’d sacrificed my life so that Tiye and Pentawere would die and Pharaoh would live. I was nothing, after all. But the excruciating pain I was going to have to endure terrified me, even more than the oblivion. Some villagers in Ta Set Maat would keep me alive in their memories, I supposed, but to them from now on I’d be Pharaoh’s murderess, not the gardener who’d grown up among them. When the last of them died all trace of me would vanish from the earth and I’d meet the eternal death. Six months – all that separated me from horror and utter darkness. I placed my hand on my stomach. Thank the gods for my child. Otherwise, I’d already be dead.
There was a noise in the corridor.
“Leave us.” It was a woman’s voice, commanding.
The guard’s footsteps receded down the passageway. The door opened and Duatentopet entered the room, carrying a lit bowl of oil and a small linen sack.
She set the bowl on the floor. I tried to sit up but I was lightheaded from hunger and the room began to spin. A muffled sob escaped my lips and I sank back to the ground. “I’m sorry, Majesty,” I murmured.
Duatentopet knelt next to me and very slowly helped me to a sitting position. I reeled dizzily. I leaned against the wall with my right arm and shoulder, rested my head against it, closed my eyes for a moment.
Duatentopet pulled an earthenware jar from her sack and held it to my lips. “Drink.”
Water. I gulped it greedily.
Duatentopet pulled dates and peaches and a bit of meat from the sack and I took the peach and bit into it. Juice ran down my chin. I barely had the strength to chew.
“Pentawere and Tiye and the others are dead,” Duatentopet told me, sitting back on her haunches.
I nodded. I was past caring about them.
“They hanged Pentawere last. I watched at Ramesses’ side. Pentawere took a long time to die. Afterwards, Ramesses refused to burn his body as Vizier Neferronpet advised. Ramesses despised what Pentawere had done, but he was his half–brother. So he ordered him buried in the Great Place, anonymously. Kairy’s taking care of it.”
A fate better than he’d deserved.
“Pentawere was an awful sight,” Duatentopet said, remembering. “They wedged him into an undecorated coffin. His face was frozen in a scream of agony. They left his hands and feet bound. They covered him with a layer of natron and then a goatskin. They didn’t take him to the embalmers to remove his internal organs. Just packed his eyes with linen and took him straight to the Great Place.”
I was glad I hadn’t seen. But at least he’d have a body for his ba to seek. I was going to be ash.
“Tiye would have dragged Ramesses from the throne if you hadn’t lied to the judges,” Duatentopet said. “My husband would have been executed by now and Pentawere would be pharaoh. Your lies were magnificent and necessary, Neset. Tiye was on the brink of convincing the judges to let her and Pentawere go free.”
“I know.”
“Why did you do it, Neset? Why did you give up your life for Ramesses?” she asked gently.
“Not for Ramesses, Majesty,” I said. “For your father. I loved him. He was very kind to me and my grandfather. He gave us good lives. It wouldn’t have been right for his murderers to escape punishment for what they’d done. It wouldn’t have been right for his legitimate line to end.” I closed my eyes, took a deep breath. “I felt a little noble when I did it, Majesty. Now I’m just terrified.”
“Neither Ramesses nor I can save you, Neset,” Duatentopet said sadly.
“I don’t expect you to.”
“I want to, desperately. So does Ramesses. But if he pardons you, powerful officials who oppose my husband will trumpet it as proof there actually was a plot between him and you against Father,” she explained. “They’ll hatch plots of their own to remove him. If Ramesses frees you he’ll be vulnerable. It’ll be the end of him.”
I bowed my head. I’d accepted my fate. “Majesty, please tell His Majesty I knew he would have saved me if he could. Tell him I knew he couldn’t. Tell him I don’t blame him for this.”
Duatentopet took my hand, raised my fingers to her lips, kissed them tenderly. “Ramesses ordered the scribes to erase all mention of you and your confession from the records of the trial. It’s been done. No one in years to come will know your name, much less that you were convicted of murder. The lies you told no longer exist, nor Tiye’s false accusation of you.”
“Thank you, Majesty.” I raised my eyes to Duatentopet’s.
Tears welled in hers.
“I’m so afraid, Majesty,” I said, my mouth quivering. “To die by fire…” Tears poured down my cheeks and sobs wracked my body.
Duatentopet took me in her arms, held me close, stroked my long hair, caressed my cheek with her hand, brushed away her own tears. “I know, Little One. Ramesses will commission a statue of you and place it in his tomb, so your ba will have a place to rest. You’ll have appropriate grave goods too. I swear it! You’ll see Father in the Afterlife, and you’ll be with him for millions of years.” She smiled. “And someday me. And Ramesses.”
“Thank you, Majesty.” A tremendous weight off my shoulders. I wouldn’t cease to exist after I died. That was something, at least. “What’ll happen t
o my child after I’m executed, Majesty?”
“I’ll raise it, Neset.”
“Aya, if it’s a girl, after my ancestress. Meniufer, if it’s a boy, after my grandfather.”
Duatentopet nodded. “I promise, Neset. Your child will grow up in Ramesses’ harem, with all the royal children. He or she will not lack for anything.”
Except a mother. “Thank you, Majesty. That’s all I really care about now.”
Duatentopet rose. “I must go. This is the last time we’ll see each other, Neset.” She leaned down, hugged me. “I’ll never forget what you did for Ramesses. Never!”
She was crying when she left my room.
***
Shemu (Harvest)
Kairy
***
“Majesty, you must execute Neset immediately,” Vizier Neferronpet insisted. “The judges were fools to give in to your mother.”
I’d just been admitted to Pharaoh’s private quarters by the guard standing outside his door. I’d slapped as much dust as I could from my kilt before entering, but it was still filthy. The night’s work had been hard. A week had passed since the trial of the conspirators, and four days since Pentawere’s execution. Pharaoh was wearing a fine white kilt and was seated in an ebony chair inlaid with gold and faience and jewels in the room adjacent to his bedchamber. He looked tired. His crook and flail and various crowns lay atop a nearby table. Only the vizier was with him. Neferronpet’s back was to me and he was unaware of my presence.
I glanced towards the bedchamber and shivered in spite of myself. The last time I’d been in that room Heket had been gleefully drawing her knife across the third Ramesses’ throat. And then I’d been attacked from behind. The sudden throbbing in my still healing shoulder wasn’t imaginary.
“Neset carries a grandson of the third Ramesses in her belly,” Neferronpet continued. “If we let her give birth your line will be in danger.”
“How so?” Pharaoh asked.
“What if we haven’t identified all of Pentawere’s and Tiye’s conspirators?” Neferronpet asked.
Pharaoh’s eyes narrowed. “You believe there are more?”
Neferronpet shrugged. “Teynakhte was running around free for months after the coup, causing who knows how much mischief, answering to Tiye even though she was imprisoned. Are you truly willing to take the chance that Teynakhte was Pentawere’s only supporter who wasn’t caught? Or that enemies with no ties to Pentawere exist?” Neferronpet stepped closer to Pharaoh. “What’s to keep traitors from kidnapping the great criminal and hiding her away until she gives birth, then someday claiming your throne belongs to her son?”
“Surely we can protect Neset until she gives birth,” Pharaoh replied. “I have an entire army at my disposal. Strong walls surround Djeme.”
“Will your army guard her son every day for the rest of his life after he’s born?” Neferronpet countered.
“He’ll be raised in my harem. Duatentopet promised Neset.”
“Anyone determined to overthrow you or your son or grandson could kidnap Neset’s son at any time and mount a challenge,” Neferronpet scoffed. “One well–placed bribe is all it would take to spirit him from Djeme.”
The vizier shifted to one side and Pharaoh looked past him. He noticed me for the first time. “Is it done, Kairy?”
Vizier Neferronpet’s head snapped around. His eyes said I had no business overhearing this discussion.
I strode closer to Pharaoh’s chair, but not as close as the vizier. I bowed. “It is, Majesty. Last night four guards under my supervision carried Pentawere’s coffin to the entrance of the Great Place. I dismissed them. Two Medjay then carried the coffin to the door of one of the justified kings’ tombs. I unsealed it. They dragged the coffin to the burial chamber. Then I shut the door and reapplied the seals. I eliminated all traces of our presence. Those Medjay are already on their way to new assignments at Buhen, deep in Kush. They won’t report what they did. They have no idea who was in the coffin. For all practical purposes, Pentawere has disappeared forever. I’ve come directly here to report.”
“Thank you for that, Kairy.”
“If you’d listen to reason, we could do the same to Pentawere’s spawn, Majesty – make it disappear,” Neferronpet growled. “Let me take care of it. Let me kill Neset. I promise no one will trace her death back to you.”
My stomach was suddenly in a knot. I’d been at the trial. I’d witnessed Neset lie to save Pharaoh. I’d witnessed her step in front of a knife thrust intended for Pharaoh, which had nearly killed her. The Great Kenbet had rewarded her for her devotion by sentencing her to death. Thanks to Iset she’d been given a delay in her execution date. She’d been promised she’d live long enough to give birth. I’d learned about her talisman and her family stories these past months. I knew how important it was to her to be able to pass both on, to continue a family line that had started before men and women had settled this valley, a line that had remained unbroken for hundreds of generations. A line favored by the falcon god. Was Neferronpet going to so cavalierly steal that last bit of comfort from Neset?
“You’d risk the wrath of Amen?” Pharaoh asked Neferronpet, nonplussed.
“Majesty, when Neset revealed her so–called dream during the trial – that she’d seen the Great Kenbet judge you guilty of your father’s death – she nearly sent you to your own death. At that moment Tiye was on the brink of victory. Neset only confessed to her crime because she feared the pain and humiliation of having the truth beaten from her. That’s the only reason you’re alive today.”
I couldn’t remain silent. Neset deserved to be defended. Especially by me. She’d set my ancestor on Nekhen’s throne. My family owed hers a great debt for that. We shared a common ancestress, so we were, however distantly, family. “Neset feared being beaten more than she feared being burned alive, Vizier?” I challenged. “You have no idea why Neset really confessed. Or that her confession was a lie.”
“You’re deluded, Driver,” Neferronpet said scathingly.
“Neset did lie,” Pharaoh assured Neferronpet. “She wasn’t involved in Father’s murder in any way. I know that for sure. The fact is, Neset is blessed by Horus, the protector of pharaohs.”
“Majesty…”
Pharaoh held up his hand. “I know it’s true, Vizier. Neset was the tool Horus used to save me from my enemies. The verdict of the Great Kenbet on her was unjust – though necessary.” He looked at me. “You’ve heard Neferronpet’s concerns, Kairy. What’s your opinion?”
“This is between us, Majesty,” Neferronpet interjected haughtily.
“Nevertheless, I would know Kairy’s mind,” Pharaoh said calmly. “He’s never failed to speak truth to me or give me good advice.”
Neset’s fate was in my hands? That she was on the brink of being executed in secret by the vizier after how she’d sacrificed to keep Pharaoh on his throne was unfair. But the vizier was right to be concerned about His Majesty and his line. I weighed my words carefully. “I agree with Vizier Neferronpet. Your line is still at risk, Majesty.”
The vizier gave me a condescending smile.
“We never guessed Teynakhte was involved in the plot, Majesty, or that Tiye could compromise Oneney and two judges while confined in the per’aa. I agree that there still may be conspirators running loose, biding their time to make another attempt to take the throne – either from you or a descendant. I agree with the vizier that Pentawere’s heir will eventually become a weapon for your enemies to wield against you. I agree with how he believes your enemies might use the boy. I also agree that a single guard willing to take a bribe could throw this valley into utter turmoil.”
Neferronpet’s smile was now one of victory.
Pharaoh sighed deeply. “So you’d have me kill Neset and her son too, despite what Mother said.”
“Absolutely not, Majesty.”
The vizier’s smile turned to a frown.
“Would you rather risk Neset’s son being used against you, Majest
y, or would you rather risk Amen turning against you?” I asked.
“I’d risk the god,” Neferronpet snapped.
“It’s not the god you need to fear, Majesty,” I told Pharaoh. “As we all well know. It’s Amen’s priests. If you slay Neset’s son after the God’s Wife of Amen has placed him under Amen’s protection, if you act contrary to the god’s stated will, the Amen priests will have the perfect excuse to rise up and seize your throne. They have the resources to raise an army to wield against you.”
Pharaoh shifted uneasily on his chair.
The vizier glared at me. He knew I was right.
“So, Neset must live,” Pharaoh said decisively.
I was relieved.
The vizier clenched his fists. He was taking his defeat badly. “If you won’t let me kill Neset, Majesty, at least let me use her to draw out your enemies and eliminate them once and for all.”
“How?” Pharaoh asked, his interest piqued.
“Use her to bait a trap.”
“Bait?”
“Majesty, move Neset out of Djeme and imprison her on her estate, where she’ll appear vulnerable. Your enemies will think we’ve blundered, that we’ve given them a gift. They’ll surely try to kidnap her before her son is born.” Neferronpet looked at me. “Assign Kairy to guard her, Majesty. Kairy – catch the traitors in the act. Take at least one alive and get the names of everyone who’s plotting against His Majesty.”
Pharaoh eyed me. “Do you think the vizier’s plan might work, Kairy?”
I pondered for a moment. “As long as Neset agrees to risk her life for you again, Majesty, it could.”
“What’s Neset risking, Majesty?” Neferronpet asked pointedly. “The risk is all on our side. If traitors succeed in taking her, we’ll have to deal with her son years from now at a time of the traitors’ choosing. No, the traitors won’t dare harm Neset – if they kill her or her son, what would be the point of kidnapping her? They’ll need her, alive, to testify the challenger is actually her son. If we tell Neset we’re using her as bait we’ll be tempting her to cooperate with the kidnappers – she’ll escape execution if she does, someday be the mother of a pharaoh once her son displaces you. She cannot know that we’re using her.”
The Gardener and the Assassin Page 66