The Sekhmet Bed (36 page)

“
And have your forgotten why I’m your Great Royal Wife, instead of your second queen? To legitimize your choices, Tut, no matter how strange they may be. My spiritual gifts were given to me so that I could help you on the throne. Why have I suffered so under Mutnofret’s anger, if not to aid and support you?”

Tut nodded, sympathy easing the anger on his face. “I know, Ahmoset. I know things between you and Mutnofret have not been…ideal. And I know how hard you work to please the gods, and me. You…you haven’t always made the best choices in your work, but I know that your intent has always been beyond reproach. But if there are things even a Pharaoh cannot do, then surely there are things even the god-chosen cannot do. We can’t push the people too far, you and I. Everything we have they can take away, if we go too far.”

“
The gods would never let that happen,” she said.

“
The gods often let happen that which the priests most desire,” Tut said with a wry twist to his mouth. “I have to be careful, Ahmose.
We
have to be careful. Our children’s futures will be secure so long as we are careful.”

“
Hatshepsut’s future is on the Horus Throne. She is
half god
, Thutmose. She is the
son of Amun
. And if I were you, I’d fear what Amun thinks more than what his priests think.”

“
Daughter
,” he said, in a voice that was half a snarl. How quickly he could change from the gentle husband to the general. “She’s a daughter, not a son. She’s
my
daughter.” Abruptly he turned away, shaking his head, sighing. “I need to take my leave of you. I’m getting too angry. I don’t want to be angry with you. Not now. Not tonight.”

Outside, the river of stars spilled across the sky in a thick silver band, and striped Ahmose’s bed with its light. Hatshepsut, in her arms, was illuminated.

“
Take one last look at Hatshepsut before you go, my husband,” Ahmose said, as gently as she could. “Don’t leave us in anger. Look at our child, and be happy.”

He did as she asked. He turned to look at the baby, who was the gods’ gift to him, as well as to Ahmose. The frustration smoothed away from his eyes. The tension in his cheeks relaxed. His big front teeth showed themselves when he smiled, in spite of himself.

Ahmose turned her eyes from her husband to her child. Hatshepsut’s eyes were open for the first time. She was looking at her father with bold black eyes, with the impudence of a prince.

“
Amun’s will shall be done, no matter what either of us may wish,” she said, quietly, so only the stars would hear.

THIRTY-SEVEN

Hatshepsut stood on her sturdy legs at the edge of the dais, hands balled up in fists as she surveyed the crowded hall. Egypt’s First Princess held herself apart from her parents and her nurse, gazing out over her subjects without a trace of fear. Ahmose looked down at the top her of daughter’s head and smiled. Such a little lioness. Such a little lion.

Hatshepsut was two now, and her weaning celebration had begun. Sitre-In, the sweet young nurse whom Ahmose had chosen to raise the princess, had needed the queen and two other women to help restrain her charge for this morning’s head-shaving. As was the custom, the girl’s hair had been left to grow in a thick black cloud, forever tangling, until the day of her weaning. For their weaning ceremony, most girls would have their hair combed carefully over to one side and plaited into the traditional sidelock braid, the hairstyle they would wear until they matured, the end of the lock curled and hung with ribbons. But Hatshepsut was not like other girls. Ahmose had called for a razor.

“
Shave her head like a boy’s,” she’d said, and once Hatshepsut could be restrained, Sitre-In had done as she was told. The girl had put up such an admirable fight. She’d screeched and bitten like a whole army of angry cats, and kicked as hard as her chubby legs could kick. But at last the four women managed to hold her still enough that Sitre-In could safely shave away the bird’s-nest of hair. Watching it fall to the ground was bittersweet. Ahmose couldn’t see where the past two years had flown. Was her prince already so big, so strong? The careful black braid hung over Hatshepsut’s half-moon ear, standing out against the smooth, bald scalp of a boy.

“
My brothers and sisters,” Thutmose said, raising his golden crook and flail. The crowd quieted. “We are gathered here in celebration. We have much to thank the gods for on this day. The Nile has risen beautifully this year, praises be to Amun! And my two youngest children, Prince Ramose and Princess Hatshepsut, have been blessed by the gods. They are healthy, and infants no more!”

The nobles cheered, raising their drinks in salute. The sudden noise frightened Ramose. On the other side of Tut, Mutnofret was trying in vain to untangle the boy from her skirt. He clung to her, crying. Hatshepsut peered around her father’s legs at Ramose, her fat lower lip stuck out in an expression of mingled curiosity and disappointment. Ahmose bit her cheek to keep a laugh at bay.

“
Bring the bread,” Tut commanded.

A priestess brought the tray of bread and sweet milk. She bowed low before the royal family, and blessed the food in the names of Amun and Mut.

Ahmose bent to her girl, held Hatshepsut close in a sweet embrace. These were the last precious seconds of her baby’s infancy. But the girl squirmed, growling in frustration, and reluctantly, Ahmose let her go.

The priestess went first to Ramose. He came forward only after Mutnofret gave him a gentle push, and his eyes studied the bit of milk-soaked bread in the woman’s fingers with mistrust.

“
Eat it, stupid,” Prince Amunmose hissed from where he stood behind Mutnofret. Wadjmose elbowed him in the ribs. The two elder boys glared at each other and stuck out their tongues. Mutnofret shot them a look full of unpleasant promise, and they snapped to attention, their dark eyes wide.

“
Eat the tasty bread like a good boy,” Mutnofret said, an edge of worry coloring her voice. “Mmm, mmm!”

At last, Ramose allowed the priestess to place the bit of bread on his tongue. He made a face and stumbled back to his mother’s skirt. Mutnofret poked her finger into his mouth to be sure he’d swallowed it.

Now the woman bent before Hatshepsut and offered the sweet bread, pinched in her thumb and forefinger. Like a hungry carp, Hatshepsut lunged forward, mouth agape, and clamped down on the priestess’s hand.

“
Oh!” Ahmose rushed forward to grab her daughter by the arm, while the priestess, shocked out of her dignity, jerked back her hand and yelped. The crowd cheered.

“
Hatshepsut, we do not bite! Biting is very wicked!” Ahmose crouched in front of her daughter, eye to eye. She struck Hatshepsut on the back of each wrist in reprimand. The princess didn’t even flinch. “Tell the priestess you’re sorry for biting her.” She turned the girl around to face the priestess, whose eyes struggled to hide a smile.

Hatshepsut said nothing, grinning at the woman, chewing the bread while milk and honey dribbled down her chin.

***

“I still can’t believe she bit the poor woman,” Ahmose said, holding Tut’s arm as they strolled through the great palace garden.

Two days after the weaning celebration, and Hatshepsut already seemed to be delighting in her new status as a big girl. She ran screaming down the garden path, chasing grasshoppers, full of a wild new energy. Her fat buttocks flashed away into the gathering darkness, the pat-pat-pat of her tiny sandals coming from here, now there, now here again as she explored the flower beds at chariot’s speed. The girl preferred to be naked. Neither Ahmose nor Sitre-In could keep the proper boy’s kilt on Hatshepsut for more than a few minutes.

“
The guests at the feast seemed to think it was a good way to start the party,” Tut said, chuckling.

Ahmose smiled. “I’m glad she’s as fierce as she is strong, I’ll admit it. Egypt will need an heir as fierce as you, if peace is to be kept once you’ve gone to the afterlife. Many years from now, of course.”

Thutmose sighed. “I do need to name an heir, don’t I? Four beautiful children, and none of them heir. What must the people be thinking?”

“
You know how I feel about it.” They’d discussed the issue many times since Hatshepsut’s birth. Ahmose was reluctant to tread the same path again. It always ended in anger, with Tut storming away and Ahmose biting back tears, and nothing resolved.

He put his hands on either side of her face. “Ahmoset, let’s be serious about this. Just once. I don’t want you to get false hopes. Hati is my gem, but she’s a
girl
. She can’t be a king.”

Ahmose breathed deeply, closing her eyes so she didn’t have to see him, though he still held her face.

“
Aren’t you going to say anything, Ahmoset?”

“
What is there to say that I haven’t said a thousand times already? I’ll never have a son. I know that. You’re wasting your time waiting for me to bear you a son, when you have the promised heir right here, running naked through your garden.” From a flower bed, Sitre-In shrieked, and Hatshepsut laughed. Ahmose broke out of Tut’s grasp. “It’s always been clear to
me
that Hatshepsut should be the heir. She came from my body. I saw her holy father with my ka as I see her earthly father with my eyes, standing before me now. Of all your children, the choice is
obvious
, and we shouldn’t be having this same argument again.

“
Just look at her! She’s a warrior already, and she’s only two years old. Look how brave she was at her weaning feast. Tell me, did your son face the crowd as confidently as your daughter? Would Ramose have bitten a priestess? Clearly her ka is male, and what matters but her ka?”

“
An ill-mannered little girl doesn’t have to have a male ka to be wicked,” Tut said, but there was fondness in his voice. He loved Hatshepsut, Ahmose knew; perhaps more than he loved any of his other children. And who could fail to love such a wild creature? “It’s true that she is a warrior,” Tut went on. “But Egypt is full of strong women. No one accuses them of having the spirits of men.”

“
Can you deny that the gods intend great things for Hatshepsut? Can you deny that her blood is holy? In the year of her weaning, the river has risen again, after five years of failure. She
is
a gift for Egypt.”

“
Ah, something has pleased the gods this year, to bring back the flood. And
I
intend great things for my daughter. She’ll be Great Royal Wife some day. We’ll have a son together, and she’ll marry her brother.”

Ahmose turned away from him. “Tut, you know my feelings. If you disregard the gods’ will, you risk…who knows what. Famine? Plague? Invasion? There are worse things than these. Why do you insist on being so foolish?”

“
Have a care,” Thutmose said, not unkindly. “You do speak to the Pharaoh, Ahmose.”

“
Do I? A king rules. A king commands. A king has confidence in his own words and actions. A king does not go in fear of what his subjects might think.”
“Now you’re making me angry.”

“
I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to. It’s just that whenever we speak of this, we can never agree.”

“
If you’d give some ground, it would be easier for both of us.”

“
You’re asking me to relinquish my child’s birthright, and to deny the gods’ will. I can never do either. Not even for you, Tut.”

Sitre-In came out of the twilight, the squirming princess caught up in her arms. The nurse’s dress was ripped, and her wig hung askew. “I’m sorry, Sitre-In. Truly. I know she’s a handful.” Ahmose reached out her arms, and gratefully, the nurse passed Hatshepsut over. Once in her mother’s arms, the child quieted, and looked expectantly at the king.

“
You should choose an heir soon, Tut, regardless of who you’ll name. My father went his whole life without making his choice, and it nearly cost Egypt’s security. It
did
cost the happiness of his daughters. Don’t make the same mistake with your own family.”