The Eye of Horus (14 page)

The face of Re-Horakhte burst above the horizon with an exuberance that matched my own, as if he, too, felt the excitement that caused my heart to thump against my ribs. Today marks the second month of life for Pharaoh’s son, when he honors those who have served him above all others. And the name at the top of his list is a certain Senakhtenre, physician of Waset.

Mena served as my escort, on Pharaoh’s orders, he claimed, and as we neared the royal precinct he tried to put me at ease. “The honor does you no harm with Ramose, since any glory that falls on his physician shines on Ramose as well. But you could not have dissuaded Pharaoh even had you tried. Aside from showing off his son, he signals that he is taking the reins of power into his own hands, simply by flaunting the skills of an ordinary
sunu.
It is his way of letting everyone know that he no longer depends on the old men around him to direct his every move.”

More important to me at the moment was how to behave
when Pharaoh called me before him. “Are you certain my appearance will not embarrass him, or the Queen?” I asked, though I wore a tunic of fine linen over a short pleated kilt and painted leather sandals. They were the best I owned, yet I worried they were not good enough.

“You will not shame either your King or your employer, if that is what you ask,” Mena assured me, “though I suspect you are more concerned with two small girls. If left to them, you could cover yourself in rags and it would be the rest of us who are out of fashion.” He paused. “I am not inclined to jealousy where my daughter is concerned, Tenre, but can you say the same for the priest?”

If he meant to give me more to worry about, he succeeded, but we were entering the palace grounds and my thoughts flew ahead of us, beyond the fragrant shrubs and brilliant flowers. I could not imagine that Pharaoh’s house could be grander than the Queen’s apartments, where marble steps sparkled with streaks of pink and black, and the walls portrayed the movement of life rather than the stillness of eternity—tiny birds darting among fruit-bearing trees, a herd of galloping gazelle—yet an awesome majesty pervaded my senses as we came into the huge throne room.

At the far end were only columns, making the vast hall one with the courtyard outside, where a light breeze ruffled the leaves of sycamores and acacia trees. A milling throng already had gathered, but ornately inlaid chairs lined the edges of the room, exposing rich carpets that hushed our footsteps and voices, while on the walls hunters stalked their prey in the desert or poled skiffs through the marshes, their throwing sticks at the ready.

At that moment the assembled guests bent like a field of wheat in the wind, so we did likewise as Nefertiti and Mutnodjme moved toward the dais and took their places, followed by the women of Pharaoh’s harem. “Pharaoh’s sisters are much together since the General sailed down the river,” Mena observed from behind his hand.

Next came the Royal Ornaments and favorites wearing
crowns of blue lotus blossoms. All but Aset and Nebet, who had draped themselves with garlands of blue cornflowers and white daisies. At seven Aset remains small for her age, so the two girls stood shoulder to shoulder and looked almost like twins in identical white gowns. Both wore the palm-frond sandals Ipwet had fashioned to Aset’s liking, as well, which turned out to be exactly what Nebet needs since, with her uneven gait, the built-up edge around the sole keeps her foot from sliding off to the side. They searched the crowd for us and were about to wave when Tetisheri laid a restraining hand on each shoulder and then smiled at Mena, sharing her delight in their daughter.

“See how well she goes with the new brace?” he whispered, fighting to keep his head bowed when his eyes hungered for his wife and daughter. “Even better when she walks beside her friend. Together they make more than two, as if each adds something to the other. Whatever magic lies behind those blue eyes, I begin to understand why she fills your heart—though she is the child of another man.” He leaned closer. “Not only that, but from the night you brought Aset to our house, Sheri comes to me with eagerness again. For that alone I will thank you to the end of my days.”

A parade of youths threaded their way through the crowd to take their places before the dais. “Children of the
Kap,”
Mena explained, “led by Hiknefer, Crown Prince of Aniba and friend of Tutankhamen since they were boys.” I knew of the custom of having the sons of Kemet’s vassals attend the palace school with Pharaoh’s own children and those of favored nobles. But what interested me most was that Senmut’s brother wore wild cattails on each arm, ostrich feathers in his white headband, and gold tassels hanging from his ears. He also kept his frizzy hair trimmed above his ears.

“That one is cut from a different piece of cloth than his brother,” I remarked.

“Same father, different mothers,” Mena replied as the heralds raised their horns to announce Pharaoh’s coming.

“Neb-khepru-re, Living Son of Amen-Re,” the Herald called out, “Tutankhamen, Son of Horus on Earth, Beloved
of Maat, Lord of Upper and Lower Kemet, Lord of Ipet-isut and Ruler of Waset.” We dropped to our knees and touched our heads to the floor as Pharaoh and his Queen moved toward the dais. Tutankhamen held himself erect, arms crossed over his chest, the crook of the South in one hand and flail of the North in the other. He wore the blue leather crown bearing the serpent goddess of Upper Kemet and a Nekhbet pectoral on his chest, its feathers inlaid with lapis lazuli, and gold lotus buds weighted the belt of his hip wrap. But it was the magnificent bracelet circling his left wrist that caught and held my eyes—a great green stone surrounded by tiny granules of silver that flickered like fireflies in the night.

Then the Chief Herald started his litany of titles for the Queen—Great Royal Wife, Beloved of Neb-khepru-re Tutankhamen, Lady of the Two Lands, and so on. The Queen cradled her son in her arms, but I hardly recognized her delicate features beneath the elaborate wig with its hundreds of narrow plaits ending in tubes of gold that tinkled like bells.

“Until now the Queen rarely appeared at official ceremonies,” Mena informed me, “to show that Pharaoh returned to the old ways. So he sends another message simply by having her present.”

My eyes wandered from Tutankhamen to Mutnodjme and Nefertiti, then back to the young king, noting the similar shape of their eyes, for other than that there is little to show that they issue from the same mother and father. When I looked at him again the King was beckoning for me to come forward. “He does not wait for his steward to announce the order of presentations,” Mena muttered. “Your time is at hand.”

“You would throw me to the wolves alone?” I tossed back as I started toward the throne, leaving him to catch up. When I dropped to my knees before Pharaoh I saw Mena doing the same just behind me.

“I give you leave to stand in my presence, Senakhtenre, as a sign of the high esteem in which we hold you.” I hurried to
comply though I felt like a pair of leather sandals stiffened by too much paint. Tutankhamen handed his crook and flail to Ay, onetime Master of the Horse to the Magnificent Amenhotep who now serves his son, and exchanged them for a carved wooden staff. After that he looked out over the crowd and raised his voice. “As the fellahin sow their seeds in the black soil of the Two Lands, so Pharaoh planted his seed in his Great Royal Wife, who in her time brought forth a bountiful harvest, a son she has named Thutmose—may he be wise as Thoth and bring honor to his namesake, the builder of a great empire. Now I honor the physician who accompanied my son on his hazardous voyage through the dark waters of chaos and brought him safely into the light of Amen-Re, king of the gods from whom all life flows.”

Contrary to what the young king said, I believe there is an ebb and flow in the organ of life as regular and predictable as the rising and waning of the moon, but it was not my place to correct a god, even a mortal one. Surely the man before me in no way resembled the youth I had encountered outside his wife’s door, trembling under the weight of his decision. For to deny me admittance could mean the death of another child of his body, yet to allow me to enter alone went against the ways of his father and his father before him, which demanded the presence of a priest and priestess in addition to the one named Physician to the Queen.

Ay stepped to Pharaoh’s side bearing a small bronze tray on which lay a necklace of gold and blue beads. “From this day forward,” Pharaoh intoned as he placed the collar around my throat, “let it be known to all the People of the Sun that Senakhtenre, physician of Waset, is named Special Companion Who Goes In and Out of the Palace.” The title conveyed on me the privilege of entering the palace at will, whether called there by the babe’s nurse-mother or anyone else. In this way Pharaoh declared that I am to oversee the welfare of his son though I continue as physician to Ramose’s household, an arrangement that suits us both without raising the enmity of the palace physicians.

I bowed and mumbled every word of gratitude I knew, but instead of dismissing me Tutankhamen withdrew the dagger he wore under the belt of his kilt. “The Goddess Maat also commands me to give him this mighty blade, for no other is a fitting match for the wisdom of his heart and gentleness of his hands.” He pulled the blade halfway out of its sheath and laid it across my open palms. The ivory hilt was topped by a crystal pommel, while the gold sheath bore an embossed scene of hounds and lions attacking an ibex. But it was the blade itself that made it a priceless treasure, for iron holds a sharp edge, while bronze must constantly be honed.

Stunned by the magnitude of such a gift, my thoughts scattered like overripe lotus petals before the wind. Then Aset was standing before me with laughter dancing in her eyes, a perfect match for the cornflowers around her neck. “The Queen wishes to acknowledge her debt to you as well,” Tutankhamen announced, “with a gift selected by her little sister.”

Aset pushed the gold casket into my hands. “Open it.” I lifted the lid and thought I looked at a puff of smoke held captive in a box, until I recognized the dried blossom of a plant I have only read about.

“Our little sister informs us that in the land beyond the Red Sea,” Pharaoh explained, “the plant called
Khatun
is believed to contain much magic.”

“I am humbled by Your Majesty’s generosity,” I murmured, struggling to conceal my ignorance of court protocol so as not to embarrass myself in front of Aset, who watched me with that glorious smile lighting her eyes. I could only guess at where she had learned about the plant, probably in one of her father’s scrolls, but what truly warmed my heart was knowing that she understood why I prize such things more than any riches or titles Pharaoh could bestow upon me. I tried to tell her that with my own smile.

When I looked back at Tutankhamen he had turned to Mena. “I look forward to besting the both of you, then, in three days’ time,” he murmured, lowering his voice, “when
Hiknefer and I fly our falcons against yours.” He stepped back, signaling Aset to return to her place. Mena and I bowed, then backed away from the dais until we were swallowed up by those surging forward to see who would be next.

“Who shall I return this blade to?” I asked when we got clear.

“Re-return it?” Mena stammered.

“Surely Pharaoh meant that part only for show. What would someone like me do with such a precious thing?”

“Obtain enough credit to add to your house and find yourself a wife. With the title Pharaoh just handed you, many a father will jump at the chance to sign a contract for his daughter if you but sail while the breeze is fresh.”

“You believe it was a mistake, then, to marry out of love for the woman you took for your wife?” I asked, hoping to trap him in his own net.

He ignored my question. “By the way you clasp that casket I doubt you have any intention of giving
that
back. Knowing what Aset had to choose from, that puff of nothing speaks louder than any words. Your little goddess knows you very well, indeed.” He gave me an appraising look. “Is it enough, then, to be father to another man’s child?”

“If not me, who will guide her through the cataracts that could dim the light that shines from her eyes? If in return I warm myself by her fire—” I shrugged. “As it is with Aset and Nebet, we each supply something the other lacks and needs.”

He nodded, but he was not finished with me. “Now that you are rich you at least can afford some new garments, something a bit more adventuresome, perhaps. A red belt for your kilt, or a fringed cloak to enhance your girth and thereby your importance?”

That he still jested at my expense despite my new status made me want to laugh with joy. That I had doubted him made me feel ashamed. “The day you see me in such a cloak,” I replied through clenched teeth, “you will know that
evil spirits have invaded my body and taken control of my wits.”

Pharaoh led the way south from the palace barracks, along the line of palm trees marking the boundary between the open pasture where his cattle grazed on what little grass remained and the barren desert beyond. Hiknefer stayed almost axle to axle by him, while Mena and I rode some distance to the left to escape the cloud of dust raised by their clattering wheels. Behind us came Ay and a half dozen other officials, followed by several palace guards, and the handlers with our birds.

The Festival of Opet was but a week away, yet already the fertile water started to recede, leaving the backbones of old mud dikes sticking out like the ribs of a starving dog. As we passed the great stone lion guarding the western horizon of the city, the clang of hammers echoed across the valley from where the necropolis workers were cutting Pharaoh’s tomb from the rock. Despite this reminder of his own mortality, he seemed in rare high spirits, and when the straight sweep of sand opened before us he gave his horses their heads. A moment later Hiknefer touched his whip to his blacks and took out after him, both yelling like boys as they raced across the sand.