Shadow of the Sun (The Shadow Saga) (58 page)

“A boy.” Meti’s voice caught on a sob. “The General would have been so proud to have a son.” She held out her hands. “Let me hold him.” I gently gave her the tiny body then began to clean her up.

She sang a lullaby to the stillborn as she rocked.

“Merit-Aten,” she said through tears. “When it is your time to rule, you will make your own difficult decisions. And as I am the Per Aat, no one can ever condemn me for producing more heirs, heirs to carry on your father’s dream. I could have any man in Khemit, yet your father no longer desires me. However inspirational a spiritual marriage might be, it does not bring forth new akh. So do not judge me, Daughter.”

“There is no place in my heart for judgment, Meti. The dream of ruling together in service to the Aten has set like the sun for Father and you. You have taken a different path, and I hope that General Horemheb can fill your heart as well as your bed.”

“The General is good to me. He does not treat me as a Per Aat but as a normal woman. He taught me to drive a chariot, shoot arrows, and ride a horse. He makes me feel alive.” She spoke with a dreamy smile. “This would have been my last child. I am too old to keep trying. It seems that youth has left me as dry as this desert air.”

“Women far older still bear healthy strong akh,” I said, thinking of Ti-Yee.

“I have miscarried two times before. Lately my moods are dark as a tomb. The only thing I savor now is a goblet of sweet wine and time with the General,” she said with dullness, like a piece of her had wested along with this child. She fell asleep. I took the infant from her, cleaned him, and wrapped him in fresh linens, then laid the body next to her.

The noblewoman in the Opulent Room waited. The exuberant festivities reigned in the Denderah courtyard. Cheers echoed through the night, and Hathor must have been smiling down upon the mirthful. This time when I glanced at my blood-stained tunic, I knew I would make a terrible impression upon the expectant mother. I cleansed my hands in the basin, threw on a fresh attendant’s robe, and replaced my headdress with another longer one that drooped over my face.

“How may I be in service to you?” I said upon entrance into the Opulent Room.

Suddenly, I felt as though I was kicked in the stomach. It couldn’t be. That woman had no right to enter here.

“Are you in charge?” asked Sit-Amun in a demanding voice without the slightest indication she knew my identity. A young pregnant woman cowered between two handmaidens. Yet, I couldn’t pry my eyes away from the enlarged belly of Sit-Amun. She too was pregnant? How could we all have assumed her to be barren? Of all people, I had no desire to assist that murderess, Sit-Amun, not after she killed Hep-Mut, nearly assassinated my father, and tried to trap me with evil magic.

Was there no one else on duty? I couldn’t serve two women at once.

“Another one,” said a female near hysteria. “It hurts so badly.”

I glanced around. A third pregnant young woman huddled in the corner.

“Who are these women?” I asked.

“Two of my pathetic attendants,” said Sit-Amun. Her voice was edged with ice. “I expect you to bring their akhs into this world alive.”

Had she heard that my Meti lost her child? That guarded news couldn’t have reached Sit-Amun’s ears.

“May I ask how long she has labored?” I pointed to the terrified woman in the corner.

“No, you may not,” said Sit-Amun with a sneer. “Just deliver the baby and stop your questions.”

Without a proper evaluation, I was limited in what I could do to help the suffering woman. I ignored Sit-Amun’s order and directed my next question to her. “Have you already gone into labor?”

Sit-Amun sipped wine and dismissed her other handmaidens by ordering them to fetch her bags from the barge. Her wild fierce eyes made my heart race. I couldn’t let her see the power she used to have over me but I was not as weak as I had been in the past. Her golden necklace dedicated to Amun glittered in the candlelight. I shivered.

“Yes, I shall deliver quite soon,” she said with certain smugness.

How odd. Sit-Amun didn’t have the appearance of someone anticipating the delivery of her first child. Her nerves must be made of bronze.

“A woman of your importance deserves a court physician. I am not worthy enough to bring forth a child of Amun,” I said, trying to excuse myself from this perilous task as I relit the lotus, eucalyptus and mandragore oils.

“No,” replied Sit-Amun, a bit too brusque. “I command you to attend us.”

I looked from one girl to the other, wondering which to assist first. My shoulders hunched and my hands sweated. I kneeled before the very young woman in the corner, whose velvety brown skin glistened with perspiration.

She had delicate features with angled cheekbones, and her breathing raced alongside her fear.

“I am here to help you. You must not tense up. It will only make your pain worse.”

She rubbed her amulet and said her prayers to Amun. “Help me,” she pleaded and clutched her belly. I examined her.

“It is time to assume the birthing position upon the bricks. Drop down like this.” Why wasn’t she relegated to a plain room down the hall? Surely her Mistress would prefer privacy and not east her first child in the presence of a lowly attendant. The head crowned. After the next expansion I ordered her to push. “A boy,” I announced, “but it is malformed.” The tiny mass in my hands whimpered, too weak to cry. I studied his shriveled limbs before it wested.

“You stupid little river rat. I demanded a girl. Did you take those herbs?”

“Yes, Mistress, I took everything you gave me. I swear I never missed a day.”

“Move out of the way.” Sit-Amun pushed me aside. She leaned over the exhausted and frightened woman, “You sniveling little piece of cow dung. You deceived me. I counted on your obedience. This thing you birthed is worthless.”

Sit-Amun hurled a black ball of energy at the young woman and knocked her back against the wall. She writhed before shrinking into a charred mass upon the floor. I stood paralyzed, my mouth open. My instincts urged me to hit her with a blue current but then I’d give myself away. Sit-Amun’s magic was too powerful.

Sit-Amun, The Chief Royal Consort, turned her rage upon the other woman, who broke into panic-stricken tears. “Did you let me down, too? I will not have two disappointments today.” Her face contorted into cataclysmic rage. She raced across the room and pushed the expectant mother against the wall, choking her with one large, strong hand. Before I could do anything to stop her, Sit-Amun reached into the young woman’s abdomen. The pink flesh ripped apart and blood squirted into hot pools.

The dying woman flailed and Sit-Amun pulled that baby right out of her body. “Another male.” Sit-Amun gave a snort of disgust and flung the squirming infant to the floor. She released the now-dead woman, who like her fellow attendant, collapsed into a bloody pile. “Liars, all of them. I should not have trusted them.”

I watched helplessly as the tiny light faded in the newborn baby on the floor. The urge rose up in me to use my own powers to fight Sit-Amun.

But I was stopped by the question of whether or not my powers were strong enough. If not, Sit-Amun would kill me. Would any good come from my death? No. I didn’t know what but there was more for me to do in this life. I needed to live. If I could just escape into the dark night, I could mix with the rabble rousers in the courtyard. She’d never find me.

I eased toward the curtain.

“Where do you think you are going?” Sit-Amun demanded.

“My work is through. I shall summon another midwife to help you deliver your child.” I was sickened by the horrendous carnage in the small room, my mouth dry, my stomach sour.

“There will be no child, you doddering little monkey.” Sit-Amun then ripped off her sheath to expose a padded pillow strapped about her waist.

“All my plans are now rubbish. A first-born female heir to extend my line could have changed everything, but I was cursed with males.”

“You are not pregnant?”

“No. I am not that fortunate.” Her wild eyes blazed like torch lights.

“You are blessed with the beauty of a thousand deities. You can choose any consort you wish.” I tried to reason with her, hoping she would return to her senses.

At that moment a female voice called out to me from behind the curtain. “Merit-Aten, are you busy? May I offer assistance here? Other patients need your services.”

Sit-Amun blanched and clenched her fists. Her wrath exploded. “Go away!” she screamed. “The midwife is tending to me and I have paid dear for privacy. Do not disturb us or I shall bring down the rage of Sekhmet upon you.”

“Yes, Mistress.” The attendant’s tone indicated that she was startled and a little frightened. Her footsteps hurried away.

Sit-Amun turned on me. “I thought I recognized you. You disappointed me by breaking your oath to get Mery-Ptah released, even though you got your cat. And now my love wested because of you!”

“You did not reveal that my cat would be a ghost and hurt the Sesh. Nor did you mention that my fingernails would ache every time I held that moonstone. I uncovered your little plot to enchant me with magic. I am not the cowering child I once was.”

“You still snivel in the same way. I have to admit, I am surprised you are alive still. I thought for sure my cobra would get at least one in your family,” she said.

“I cannot, no, will not be of service to you. Be on your way, and I will not reveal these atrocious murders to anyone.” I marched to the curtain.

“You will never see the light of Aten,” she said with a superior tone.

“This time I shall carry out my promise to take away the thing your father loves most.”

This could not be the end that Pentu had seen in the Soul Reflection Ritual. I refused to die by the hands of this wicked Amun sorceress.

“Why did you murder your attendants’ children? If it was a child you wanted, why not raise one through the orphanage?”

“I am surprised they think you could ever be a Per Aat. It is not just any child. No, I had an impeccable plan to crush your heretical Aten rule and return Amun to power. Do you recall the legend of Tuthmosis IV and his lesser wife Mut-em-wia, who had a divine conception with Amun?

“Every school child knows about Mut-em-wia and her union with the deity Amun-Ra. That night she conceived the Holy Pharaoh of our lineage, my Grand Djed Amunhotep .”

“Precisely, and I too, Sit-Amun, Royal Consort and the Mistress of the Two Lands, would pretend to have conceived a Divine Child of Amun. This child was to be the Deity incarnate and to reunite the Two Crowns of Khemit under Amun. When I took back the throne I could overturn Mery-Ptah’s deportment and restore his power as my consort and new Pharaoh. But these two male children were inferior. I was deceived. Someone will pay,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Why do you not simply bear your own?”

She pointed a large finger at me. “You have no idea what my brother did to me?”