THE GOD'S WIFE (25 page)

Neferet only listened to part of what the soldier told her and fixated on the mention of her lover. “Kamose? He’s supposed to be fighting at the border.”

“No, God’s Favored One, he never arrived there. Spies found out it was a fruitless mission, and a runner found him after only a half-day’s march.”

“He’s home?”

“Even closer. He awaits our efforts at the waterfront, even though he is nearly exhausted from his trip home.”

Neferet let Mau-mau down and put her arm around Deena. She let the woman weep on her shoulder.

“It’s all right. We’re out. We’ll go home”

Deena looked as scraped and damaged as Neferet — even more so. They shared a rare moment of sympathy, princess to princess.

“Now we must move to the river,” the man said.

They walked at a slow pace, fearing that any movement or sound would alert Zayem’s forces lying in wait along the way. However, the Kemet man scoffed at the idea of Zayem hurting them.

“They saw us,” he said, indicating sentries along the way to the river “And scattered in every direction, some to the marshlands.”

Neferet shivered thinking of the wild jackals and hyenas that thrived on trapped animals in the swamp. She quickened her footsteps, and soon, they made their way to the Nile, which coursed at a sedate pace on its way toward the city of On and to the sea. No official ferryman was at the post at this hour, but Neferet saw men and a small boy across the river. They called and she could barely make out a word. Then a sentence caught the breeze.

“Neferet, is that you?”

Kamose. He had come. She screamed and jumped, doing anything she could to get his attention. A small boat made its way across the water to pick up Neferet and her companions.

Once across the Great River, Neferet and Kamose stood in unabated joy as the prince helped her off the craft and kissed her with wildness that would have been their undoing in the recent past. Now, what did it matter that the whole world saw them in love? Deena smiled and hid her mouth beneath her cloak. The men looked the other way. Neferet reveled in her glory.

When they finally pulled apart, Neferet tried to babble out all she had endured to an alternately amused and outraged Kamose. He told her to tell the story one step at a time, for they still had a long walk to the palace.

“Palace? But I want to go home.”

“No. Tonight, you will stay with me,” Kamose said with delight. “First, however, we must tell Father of Zayem’s deceit.”

“Oh, Father.” Neferet remembered and felt her mind swirl in panic. “Meryt is poisoning him. Zayem told us everything.”

“He admitted as much to us, too,” Kamose said, his eyes taking on a dangerous gleam. “We’ll warn Father as soon as we get to the palace.”

“You spoke to Zayem? When?”

“We caught him near the tomb and interrogated him. He spilled much of the story to us. Interesting how talkative he is at the end of a spear.” Kamose betrayed a bit of pride in his glance. Belittling Zayem had never been easy when Meryt became Great Wife.

“So, he’s in custody then,” she asked, hope in her voice. Maybe, now he would get the trial and punishment he deserved. Exile, abandonment, termination of his rights as a royal son.

“No, he’s not,” Kamose said, then motioned her to silence her before she objected. “You see, we asked about you, and he must have realized he’d gone too far. He took the first chance he could and bolted. He was one of the men who ran out to the marshes.”

She didn’t understand. There would be no resolution then. He remained a free man. She gave Kamose a pinched brow but let him continue.

“We shouted to him not to go that way, but he would never listen to anyone. The wild things out there, starving animals, they stalked him for long cubits, then there was snarling, roaring, a huge commotion. Before we could move to intervene, the beasts tore him and some of his men to bits.” Kamose looked a bit ill as he said the words. No matter that Kamose was a warrior, he was still a man. For someone to die like that, torn limb from limb, was nauseating. Without hope of body to be mummified, Zayem would be denied an afterlife — an unthinkable fate. Zayem’s taunt of Neferet leaving no Ka for Anubis to recognize turned on him in the cruelest of ways.

Neferet studied the ground. So, Zayem’s tale had ended. She looked up, her stomach reeling.

“Meryt?” she said.

“Oh, I’d assume she’s heard the news by now. Zayem had some fleet-footed informants, not all of them Hyksos. Some were of Kemet and could speak our language.”

Dying like a dog. Neferet had no wish to see her enemy go like that. Still, he had left Deena and her to choke to death on tomb air. Ma’at could be a cruel mistress, but she had been served.

The Grand Vizier met Kamose and Neferet when they climbed the steps to the palace’s main entrance that night. They half expected fanfare and an outpouring of devotion from the temple staff, but the Vizier warned them to slip in a side door.

“The Great Wife is in the foulest of moods,” he said, turning about as if enemies were on all sides. “You don’t want to contend with her when she’s like this.”

“I don’t think she’s in any authority to be bothering us,” Neferet said. Kamose, used to her more deferential moods, gazed with admiration. “You forget Vizier, who outranks her around here.”

He bowed and showed them to the front door. They strode through the empty halls until they reached the audience chamber, devoid of life. They continued on to Pharaoh’s chambers, where the Pharaoh’s personal servant told him the monarch slept.

“Go wake him,” Neferet told the young man, who still wore a wig and full kohl eyeliner at this late hour. Although the young man protested, he left the room and emerged after a time with a sleepy and pepper-haired Pharaoh. He studied his offspring but reeled on his feet, too groggy to do any talking. He stared at Neferet, who became aware that she stood covered with a dust- and blood-stained sheath dress.

“Father, I’ve been through an ordeal no one should endure. I will explain all in detail in a minute, but know this: Meryt is trying to kill you.” Neferet spoke in a level, no-nonsense tone of voice. Kamose held her about the shoulders and nodded as she spoke.

“She is poisoning you, father,” Kamose said. “Fire every one of your food tasters. Don’t accept anything we don’t bring you personally.”

“And sack the Grand Vizier,” Neferet said. “He knew all about it.”

The Pharaoh rubbed his eyes and indicated his assent. He gestured that the servant should leave the room. Neferet knew the little mouse would be spreading that gossip before he left the king’s hallway.

Father, son and daughter huddled together, and the three of them discussed the events of the past few hours: how Zayem left the palace and consorted with the enemy, how he then sent Kamose on a wild chase to the delta, how Zayem tried to kill Neferet after his attempts at proposing marriage failed, how Deena was raped, how Zayem and his henchmen bragged about the plot to kill the king and, finally, the grisly way Zayem died.

The Pharaoh heard it all with anger building in his eyes. Tired and sick as he was, he pieced each bit of information together.

“So he killed Maya,” the Pharaoh said.

“She must have been first choice as his wife,” Kamose said. “A little older, a lot less fiery than Neferet here and easier to control. He believed her to be your daughter.”

“She was but not of full blood like Neferet here,” the Pharaoh corrected his son. “Only she has two royal parents.”

“He and Meryt must have deduced that, or maybe Maya put up too much of a fight when he proposed marriage. Maya was dispatched in a hurry and Neferet chosen within the month.”

Neferet explained about the false wood backing on the Holy of Holies shrine and how Zayem had gotten into the sacred space numerous times to do his dirty work. Kamose mentioned the rape, and the Pharaoh seemed to grow grayer in front of their eyes. Though he heard of the crime before, the renewed thought of his little girl ravished put the Pharaoh into a high tirade, and he began to stomp around the room, slamming into furniture.

“Death was too good for him,” he shouted.

“He died with no body to embalm. His Ka will not be known,” Neferet said. Then she rushed to her father’s side to calm him, lest he overexert himself in his weakened state.

As Neferet stroked his shoulders, Meryt burst into the room, studied the inhabitants and, within seconds, realized her entire world had collapsed.

“Death was too good for him,” the Pharaoh repeated. “And as for you, would-be murderess,” he said, pointing to Meryt. “Not only are you no longer Great Wife, but you will be taken into custody and tried in the Halls of Ma’at.” He clapped his hands, and two large Nubian guards appeared to take her away. Neferet never knew how these guards appeared at the slightest command from their ruler, but they materialized without fail whenever he needed them.

They led Meryt out of the room. She never let out a hint of emotion. No tears. No wailing. Not even a few words of hatred directed at Neferet. She held her head aloft, chin upraised, and walked out of the room as if it were her own idea. Neferet felt no iota of pity for the ruined woman. She gave birth to me, and that’s all she did in my favor.

“One more thing,” Kamose said to his father. “May we have your blessing to be married?”

The Pharaoh smiled as if he had been cured of the venom in his body.

“My son. My daughter. My heirs. Who could be happier on a night such as this one?” The three hugged as one. Once assured the Pharaoh would eat or drink nothing un-inspected until daybreak, Neferet and Kamose retired to the prince’s chambers, finally able to share their love without fear.

#

The lovers parted in the morning, their hearts full of promise and their bodies sated. They planned a royal union in a week’s time and were busy thinking of the many friends and relatives to whom they needed to announce the news.

Neferet wandered back to the temple barefoot, sandals held in one hand. She picked her way around the rocks and other bothersome obstacles, then stopped at the temple gardens and sniffed the jasmine blossoms and watched the lilies play in the breeze that skittered over the pond. Intending to ready herself for her daily bathing ritual, she ran up the stairs to her dwelling. She came to a dead halt when she nearly walked into Deena sitting on the lap of the army captain. The two were entwined in a deep kiss.

Neferet let out a shy cough, and the two looked up. The captain turned the shade of a pomegranate, but Deena merely laughed.

“I’m sorry,” Neferet said, wondering why she had not seen this romance budding all along. “I just needed my things.”

The captain, who never had told Neferet his actual name, tried to straighten himself in the chair, but Deena was giggling and not getting up.

“My lady, I know how this looks …” he started.

Neferet held a finger to her lips and smiled. “After all Deena’s been through, she deserves a man like you.”

“He taught me Kemet language, and then he taught me love,” Deena said, looking at the captain with adoration. “My Senufru.”

Neferet saw in her mind how this enchanting scenario played out. Deena must have told the captain, Senufru, about her ordeal at the hands of the Hyksos. He responded with sympathy and then an embrace. After that, professional dignity disappeared — they were in love.

“Be gentle with her,” Neferet said in a mock order. “She’s a princess.”

“Of course,” Senufru replied, still glowing a bright red. “I will ask Pharaoh’s permission to marry her.”

“No, you will ask my permission,” Neferet said, crossing her arms and attempting to appear stern. “My father gave Deena into my care.”

The captain showed surprise on his face but said nothing. There was a sweet expression of desire in his eyes.

“Of course, you may marry. Join Kamose and me in the royal celebration.” Neferet clapped her hands as if issuing an edict.

The two kissed, and Deena giggled again. Neferet went to her bedroom to gather fresh clothing.

#

On her way to the bathing pool, she turned to her left and thought she saw a quick glint of feathers and wings diving, a fabulous swoop and then a plummet into the grass along the path. Concerned, she veered off the way to search for a wounded bird. It didn’t take much investigation before she parted some vegetation and found a bulbul bird lying on its side in the mud. Death must have come at once, for the bird made no rustling sounds nor did its tiny breast show signs of breathing. She pressed her hand to its chest and felt no heartbeat.

Neferet picked up the little bit of what once had been a thriving singer in the priests’ sacred garden. Although not bloodied, the bulbul’s wings were broken. It lay in her hand spent, its purpose on earth expended. For reasons she couldn’t understand, Neferet gazed over the bird and felt her heart rise in her throat until she thought she might choke. She thought of the sensation she had in the tomb, when some giant power hit her like granite in the secret place where she kept her emotions.

Did this bird have a lover? Would that bird ever know how to live without her? Did the small thing have a family that now would have a hole torn in its fabric? Did the other birds know she was never coming back to join them in song?

Tears fell for the bird. So sleek, black and elegant, so ideal with its long, shaped wings. She must have soared higher than any of the other birds. She must have. For that, she had to dive to earth sooner. She closed her eyes and saw a human face, the Other. The one with black eyes and dark, raven hair. That person integrated with her now. For this, she would always give praise but also would always feel the sting.

She dug a little hole in the earth and placed the bird in the soil with her wings folded over the belly, like a pharaoh in a tomb. She placed small pebbles over the staring, black eyes and covered the bird with wildflowers, then with dirt, until she had created a smooth mound. She marked the grave with an ankh of tiny stones. She cried again and said a prayer that Anubis would find this poor animal, dead before its time. She went to bathe, exhausted and invigorated at once.