The Sekhmet Bed (17 page)

FOURTEEN

Ahmose had long since changed out of the flimsy blue gown –
useless
, she thought, kicking it across the floor – and into something more suitable for riding. Still, Tut remained with her sister. An hour passed, then two. She crept up to her roof, dejected, and leaned on the parapet, watching the slim crescent of the moon move against an emerging field of stars. The sky had gone violet with the approach of night.

A timid voice called from the stair head. “Great Lady?” Ineni approached her like a mouse. She waved to him, trying to find a smile. None would come.

Her steward rested his forearms on the parapet, looking where she did, out into the night sky. The last breath of day still clung to the horizon, a smudge of blue, the careless finger of Osiris dragged across the space between heaven and earth.

“
You seem sad, Great Lady.”

“
Please call me Ahmose. I’ve had enough of
Great Lady
for now.”

Ineni said nothing, as if his silence could coax out an admission of all that troubled her. The quiet lay heavily on the roof as the day died, the blue at the horizon’s edge fading to dense black. At last she spoke. “You were right, that day when we went to visit Nefertari. Whoever bears sons will have Thutmose’s heart. And even at my most beautiful, even when I look like a woman and not a girl – no, hear me,” for Ineni had stirred as if he would object, “even then I cannot hold his eye with Mutnofret beside me. He won’t
want
to come to my bed, even if I invite him. He has
her
. And who is more beautiful than Mutnofret?”

Ineni looked away. Insects were whirring in the gardens below. She remembered Aiya, the sound of the women in the birthing pavilion, the humming of the flies. The smell of the place. The knife in the physician’s hand.

“
In any case, I shall not bear a son. It is not for me. It’s not my destiny.” Even as she spoke these words in despair, her skin tingled with a thrill of truth. Somehow, it seemed, Ahmose herself had always known she would never bear sons. Now, here in the emptiness of the night, she gave voice to her secret thoughts and the gods heard her. She had spoken their will into being.

“
And the throne? Ahmose?” Ineni’s voice was soft.

The throne. She remembered her mother on the Horus Throne. How shocking it had been, to see a woman sitting there. A woman wielding power just like a man. Just like a king. And she remembered Nefertari, standing dark and quiet beside the throne. She saw it again, as clearly as if she were dreaming it. Nefertari’s hand on the queen’s shoulder. Nefertari silencing the queen on the funeral barge. Power. Power that she could wield, like a king.

“
If I do not have the throne, Thutmose will eventually have no use at all for me. Even if I can’t have his love, I can share in the ruling of Egypt. And ruling Egypt is, after all, what the gods have chosen for me. No, I must not give up the throne.” With power, she could help Tut, guide him. She could take half the work, leave him more time to be free, to ride his chariot in the hills and sail his boat, to make love to Mutnofret and raise his children. She could take half the weight of Egypt onto her back. Half and more. She could give him this, if she could not give him sons. “That will be enough for me. But I must have something more than a son, if he’s still to want me as his Great Royal Wife. Ineni, the gods sent you to me tonight. I have a plan. It will take time. A good amount of time. And it must remain secret. Always. Can I trust you? Will you help me?”

Ineni’s hand jerked, as if it was under some strange power of its own; it crept toward her arm. One thin, cool finger brushed so lightly against her wrist. A moth’s touch; she almost didn’t feel it at all. “I am yours to command,” he whispered.

***

Tut came to see her long after Ineni had departed. He came alone, without stewards or guards. She knew it was her husband before he reached the rooftop. His steps were too hesitant on the stairs to be those of a servant, too heavy to be those of a woman. She said nothing as he approached. She did not smile in welcome, though she knew she should.

“
I’m sorry it’s so late. I should have come sooner.”

“
No doubt you had better things to do than go riding in the hills with a child.”

“
You are no child.” His mouth twisted into a sardonic smile. “You’ve changed.”

“
I have.”

“
I’ve missed riding with you, Ahmose. And sailing, and sharing dinner together. I always feel closer to the gods when I’m with you. You put me at ease.”

These words slapped at her, stung her. They were all her heart longed to hear, yet he belonged to Mutnofret. His body craved Mutnofret. His eyes were for Mutnofret. He would sooner have Mutnofret as his first wife, as his Great Royal Wife, now that he knew the elder sister was the true woman. Now that he knew Mutnofret would give him a son. His love for Mutnofret would grow, and soon enough, as soon as the people were satisfied that Thutmose was as strong on the throne as he was in battle, Ahmose would be set aside.

Set aside, no matter what he’d promised so long before. Never to ride with him again, never to laugh with him again. Back to the harem, disgraced, to live forever in Mutnofret’s long shadow. The thought tore at her stomach. She pressed one hand there, tightly to push away the pain. He seemed to take it as girlish excitement. Confident, he stepped forward and cupped her chin, raised her face to look up at him. Something in her look made him stop with his mouth half-open. Whatever he had been about to say wilted on his tongue.

“
Do you remember the first time we rode together at night?” she said. He was still holding her face, still held by the intensity of her eyes.

He nodded.

“
I knew then that I loved you. But as surely as I know I love you, so I also know that I will not give you any sons, Tut.”

The conviction of her words made his hand drop from her chin. His brows came together in confusion. “But you will.”

She shook her head. “I tell you this now so you can set me aside now, if that’s what you wish.”

He laughed, but it was a small laugh, a puff of air. “Set you aside? What kind of foolishness is this?”

“
Mutnofret would make a better Great Royal Wife.”

“
No, she would not, Ahmose. Mutnofret may be beautiful, but she has nothing of a queen in her. She cares about gossip and appearances and not much other than that. You – you ruled Egypt while I was gone.”

“
With the help of the stewards, yes. And with Mutnofret’s help. She took it seriously, Tut; I asked for her guidance several times and she always made wise choices.”

“
But she didn’t pass final judgment, Ahmose. I’ve been a general long enough to know how these things go. Ruling an army isn’t much different from ruling a country. The final word is the general’s to speak, even though he receives wise counsel from those around him. The final word in every dispute was yours. You made all the choices. Mutnofret might have ruled differently – probably would have, knowing her – and would Egypt have fared so well under her rule?”

Though she bore little love for her sister anymore, Ahmose didn’t think Tut’s judgment was quite fair. Mutnofret was a gossip and as ill-tempered as a snake. But she wasn’t unmindful of justice. Nofret had believed her whole life she’d end up on the throne. She’d been trained for the role. And no matter what Tut thought, the advice the second queen had given at court had been useful. She was a woman capable of judging wisely, and fairly. Ahmose may be the only person in the world who could look past Mutnofret’s flaws to see her potential, but the truth was plain.

Still, Ahmose couldn’t bring herself to oppose Tut. Not in this. There
was
something about Mutnofret that all who knew her surely could see. Meritamun had named it on the day Ahmose had gone to her to plead on Mutnofret’s behalf. The second queen was full of heat, a fire that might burn out of control at any moment. The same flame did not burn within Ahmose. She was deliberate, calm. Perhaps this did make her more suited to rule, but there was still the problem of a queen’s first duty.

“
Still, Tut, if I will not give you any sons then I am not a fit Great Royal Wife.”

Thutmose sighed. He ducked under the pavilion’s loose-weave screens and sat upon a cushion. Ahmose stared at him. “Well?” he said. “Isn’t this where you read your dreams?”

“
You want me to read a dream?”

He nodded, bringing her inside with a curt wave. She sat, uncertain, across from him. In the wan light of the slivered moon, every thread of the pavilion’s screens stood out in sharp relief, so that Tut seemed surrounded by the filaments of a glowing spider’s web. He was a creature from the dream-world.

“
Here is the dream I’ve had many times since I became General, Ahmose. Since I first met your father.

“
I am climbing a steep hill above the valley. I am near death; there is some enemy behind me who I can’t see. He’s reaching for me, though, and I know that my time in the living world is almost up. I reach the top of the hill and a woman is standing there. Her back is always to me, and she is holding something in her arms.

“
When she turns, there is a holy light around her. She is holding a baby. A boy. The boy wears the double crown. He looks at me and smiles. He reaches out for me. He knows me. I am his father.

“
A voice says from the sky, ‘The spirit of Ra is righteousness. Be at peace, Thutmose. Even as you die, your son, the Pharaoh, restores righteousness to the land.’

“
I always see the face of the woman who holds my son. I know she is his mother. It is your face, Ahmose. It has always been. Your face.”

The soul of Ra is righteousness.
The words rang in Ahmose’s heart, a bell’s peal at the breaking of day.
Maat-ka-ra.

“
When I first saw you,” Tut went on, “a child at court, I could at last put a name to the face of the woman in my dream. You were still young, but your face has always been the same. This beloved face…” he reached out to brush her cheek “…the same one I saw in my dream. At first I thought it was blasphemy even to dream that dream, though what control does a man have over the things he sees in his sleep? I was only a general, born into a rekhet family, dreaming of fathering a child with the Pharaoh’s daughter. But it wouldn’t go away. It came again and again, many nights in a row. I couldn’t escape it.

“
But that night – our ride – I knew it was a true dream. You told me your name that night as we rode through the fields, and the sound of your name was like a spear in my guts. I could see the boy in your arms, there in my chariot. And on the hill, while I watched you sleep. I know you were shocked like everybody else when your mother named me to the heir. But I wasn’t. I know you were surprised when she named you queen in Mutnofret’s place. I wasn’t. How else could you give me a son, a boy who will be Pharaoh, unless I became the king, and you my Great Royal Wife?

“
The gods have a purpose for us, Ahmoset. They brought us together, against all the conventions of mankind. They want me to get a son from you. They require it. It’s my purpose in this life. It’s your purpose. The child we will make together: that is what we both live for.”

Ahmose leaned back on her hands, as if she could physically pull away from Thutmose’s dream. The images buffeted her; she was a barque in a wind storm, tossed and endangered. Yet Ahmose felt the glowing inside, the deep river currents of the gods’ voices as Tut spoke.

She looked steadily at her husband, as if she could read the future in the lines of his bluff face. “I…I don’t know. What the dream means. I need time to pray about it.”

“
I know what it means.”

“
I need time,” she said forcefully. Inside, her heart and ka snarled at one another like dogs fighting in the market.
Mutnofret is the better queen
, her heart said,
stand aside now while you still have some dignity
; and her ka insisted,
I will do anything for Tut’s love
.

Tut nodded. “Know this, Ahmose. I will not set you aside. I told you this before, and I say it again now. Whatever you think about Mutnofret, I know who I want for my Great Royal Wife, the mother of my heir.”