“Sesha,” Amara calls, and I stop and turn. “We want you to know … we will be naming the baby for you.”
I am shocked. “Me?” It does not escape me how the villagers here feel about Thebans. From what I understand, the people at the oasis are leaders in the conflict against my city; a rebel faction that Avaris does not appear to fully support. Yet.
“Yes.” Amara smiles as if I am simple. “You’ve done much for our family.”
“I am honoured,” I say past the lump in my throat.
The child lets out a tiny grunt and an odour fills the air, as pungent as the poultice. Amara exclaims over the bowel movement, which demonstrates that my namesake is indeed getting adequate nourishment. “If she grows up as clever and kind as you, she will be very blessed,” Amara says, patting the baby on the back. She goes to change her linens, and I wave good night to the family, leaving them to one another, my chest still aching.
35
THE AIR IS COOL AND FRESH after the stuffiness of the hut, the smell of the medicines, the unmistakeable stench of despair and bodily fluids.
It could have happened when he fell, or perhaps moving him to the hut shifted something in his spine. No matter the cause, the results are the same. Akin likely will not walk again. Desperate to help Amara’s husband, I rack my brain for anything that can be done. Injuries to the head, neck, and spine are delicate and complicated, often ending in permanent lameness, or even death.
This is why the scroll was such an important discovery. Not only because of its value as a precious ancient artifact, but because it contained the wisdom and knowledge of how to deal with exactly these types of injuries. There’s little chance Ahmes could have performed the surgery on Ky without it. The document and the physician’s skills saved my brother’s life.
I stop walking, as if the papyrus itself has struck me hard across the face.
The scroll.
Up ahead, Min and the chieftain confer in low voices. The chieftain buries his head in his hands as Min puts a sympathetic hand on his burly arm. “Likely nothing can be done,” Min is saying quietly, just as Pepi rounds a bend in the path.
“No.” The chieftain lifts his head, shaking it in furious denial. “I will not have it.”
Pepi pauses, taking in the scene. “How goes it, my cousin?” Spotting me, he nods.
“Akin is lame,” Min says to both of them, but mostly to the chieftain, I think. “Even if he does not want to admit it to you, or to his family, or even to himself.”
“There is nothing you can do?” Anger and despair compete with stubborn hope in the chieftain’s voice, and I recognize the desperate need to do something, anything, to help someone you love. “I do not care how poor the odds. If you, or another, can do even the smallest thing to aid him, I will give you whatever you ask for.”
Min shakes his head. “This is an injury with which I cannot contend.”
Still feeling the sting of the scroll across my cheek, I step forward, clearing my throat. “There may be something.” My voice squeaks, like a mouse. The chieftain turns to examine me, hawk eyes red, ready to pounce, to rip me apart.
“Tell me,” he demands, his expression becoming even more fierce, if that is possible.
I lick my lips. “There is a scroll.” Min looks at me attentively and I force myself to continue. “A rare manual on surgery. There might be something in it that can help Akin.”
“A scroll?” The chieftain’s voice goes deadly soft. “What kind of scroll?”
I swallow. “An ancient medical document, believed to be written by Egypt’s most renowned physician, Imhotep. Its authorship, and the information it contains, make it invaluable, one of our kingdom’s greatest treasures.” In my mind, at least. I think of the higher powers who sought it out. Maybe in their minds as well.
“You have seen this scroll and witnessed its effects first-hand?” Pepi asks. His voice, too, is curiously sharp.
“I transcribed parts of it myself,” I say. “The scripts in it are old and take some work to decipher, but my brother was healed because of it. The knowledge it holds saved his life.”
“Where is this scroll?” The chieftain clenches his hands at his sides as he takes a step toward me. I step back, my natural reflexes taking over.
“In Thebes.” I blink up at them. “It resides with the pharaoh at the palace.” Its brother with Queen Anat. Where my own brother also resides.
“Can you procure this document?” The chieftain’s voice rasps with emotion, with need.
“I cannot go back to Thebes,” I say, not having to feign my fear. “The queen wants me dead.”
The chieftain crosses his arms. “Did you not hear what I said to Min? If you do this thing for me, for Akin, I will give you whatever you wish for. What does your heart desire, young scribe?”
I contemplate his offer a brief moment, though my outrageous request has been formulating since he first entreated Min. Lifting my chin, I look him directly in the eyes. “Merat and I wish to be married in Avaris. My brothers and I have family there, and the princess would like a proper celebration, befitting a queen.” It is the best thing I can think of to get us all to the Hyksos capital. With luck, it will buy us more time, and it has the added benefit of concealing our desire to go free. Still holding the chieftain’s gaze, I appeal to his pride, a quality I also know well. It occurs to me that Yanassi and I have more in common than I am entirely comfortable with. “You are the Hyksos prince. Do you not think your bride worthy of a royal welcome by your people and your own family there?”
The chieftain cocks his head, considering my words, as I hold my breath, praying to the gods that his desperation to see Akin healed, his affection for Merat, and his own self-regard are enough to make him agree to my proposal. He glances at Pepi, who shrugs — but not before giving me his own look. “Very well,” the chieftain says curtly, drawing himself to his full height and glowering down his nose. “You will retrieve the scroll and bring it back to me. If you succeed in this task, I will consider your request.” He turns to Min. “Do you think you can perform such a surgery?”
Min bows his head. “I will do what I can.”
The chieftain turns back to me. “You will assist Min with the operation.”
I nod, then clear my throat, trying again. “If I am to do this, I need more than your consideration that the wedding will take place in the capital. I would like your word.” I pray we are the same in this respect as well.
Pepi walks between us. “An interesting proposition, Sesha. What say you, cousin?”
The chieftain huffs, a noise I take for agreement. Then, as if this compromise is more than he can bear, he turns on his heel and marches off, Min scurrying beside him. I hear them begin talking about the logistics of performing such a risky operation and let out a giant exhale.
“Congratulations,” Pepi murmurs, as we watch the pair walk off. “You just received your first assignment.”
36
“I DID NOT KNOW MERAT so eagerly desired such a lavish ceremony or to be acquainted with her new family,” Pepi says dryly, the moment we are alone. His eyes narrow at me. “Why did you not mention this scroll before?”
I blink at him. “I was not aware the document would be of any consequence.” And yet, it had been of great consequence to several people in Thebes. To me and my family, to the powers who rule there.
Pepi echoes my thoughts. “An invaluable item like that is always of consequence,” he says.
I know this too well. I think of Queen Anat and shiver. Am I really going back to Thebes? On one hand, if I can covertly retrieve the scroll and Akin’s procedure is a success, the chieftain might actually take us to Avaris. On the other, Queen Anat and her faithful thug, Crooked Nose, would love nothing better than to see me dead should I return to the palace. Yet there is another stone that weighs heavy on my decision, heavier than all the gold in Nubia.
My brother.
The protective walls I built around Ky in my mind crumble, and I
see my little brother, shorn head, cheerful smile, looking at me with love and trust, as he always has. How does he fare? Is he recovering well? Is he safe? I am struck by an overwhelming need to know.
“How am I to accomplish this mission?” I ask, anxiousness filling my chest at the magnitude of the task. “I’ve only had one test as a spy, and I failed it!”
“Who says you failed?” Pepi counters.
“I fell off the horse,” I remind him.
“You also got on it. You obeyed my instructions without question, in spite of your fear. If you like, we can do a second test now.”
“What test?”
“The hut. Did you notice anything about it?”
“Other than the fact that it was crammed floor to roof with items of every shape and size?”
“Precisely,” Pepi says. “How many items can you recall?”
I stare at him blankly.
“Tell me about each of the objects you saw in the room,” he says, moving to sit on a rock, as if this might take a while.
“I was giving my full attention to the patient,” I protest. “Then Amara came in with the baby. There were many things happening at once.”
“That does not matter.” Pepi picks a piece of grass. “You must be able to observe the details of your surroundings. Even ones you think unimportant. Being aware of your environment is an essential skill for a spy. You do not know what might be crucial or relevant to your mission. Now, concentrate. And tell me what you see.”
I close my eyes and take a breath, imagining myself back in the room. “There were crates,” I begin slowly.
“And?”
“And … jars, a pile of weapons, bows, knives, some furs.”
“What did the furs look like?” he asks.
“Yellow, spotted with black — leopard skins.”
“And the weapons?”
“There looked to be some type of bow, but different, longer. Others, like the axes, seemed to be forged from a strange metal.” The same as Min’s scissors. The word comes to my tongue. “Bronze.”
“Anything else?” Pepi says.
Biting my lip, I open my eyes. It feels like I’m failing him yet again. “I’ll do better next time.” I hate failing tests.
“I am sure you will.” Pepi has the grass between his teeth and chews it thoughtfully. “We must speed up your training. My cousin is not known for his patience and will want us off to Thebes as soon as it is possible.”
“Us?” Relief that I will not be expected to go alone floods my body. That Pepi will be there to help me. I sit down next to him, legs shaky.
“Yes, I will be going with you. I just have to inform Yanassi first.”
“What about my friends?” Paser will not want to be left out of this adventure.
“What about them?” His gaze sharpens. “Have you told them of your training?”
Eye of Ra. “Ah, I might have mentioned something.”
Pepi shakes his head. “Perhaps I did not impress upon you the importance of this. Discretion as a spy is no less valuable than the information you carry.” His voice is serious. “You must tell no one about your mission. Consider this your third task, Sesha.”
I stay quiet, and I suppose he takes my silence for acceptance, because he continues. “Guard your emotions and keep your thoughts hidden, like our friend the crocodile lies invisible beneath the water’s surface. The element of surprise is a great asset.” He reaches out and takes my hand. “Being a spy can be lonely, but you are not alone. You must trust me with your life as I will be trusting you with mine.”
“I will do as you say.” My voice comes out strange, like it is not me speaking but someone else. Perhaps I am becoming someone new.
“Good, because doing so will keep you and me alive.” Pepi stands and offers his other hand to help me up. “I must go and speak with my cousin now. Meet me tomorrow after your duties, where the beekeeper tends his bees. I will have a better idea of things then.”
I nod, unsure how I’m going to focus on pestles and mortars when I will soon be departing into the perilous sands. And having to keep it secret from my friends.
He bids his farewell and leaves me alone in the path. Ra’s final rays shine through the trees, casting everything in dappled sunlight. This time of day at the oasis is peaceful, and I take a moment to breathe it in. When misfortune strikes others, it reminds us of our blessings. Blessings like the simple act of walking unencumbered and free from pain. Poor Akin. And though I have my own motivations in all of this, I am relieved there is something I can do for him after all.
Life is curious. I thought I’d learn something as a spy that would help my friends and me get to Avaris, and now it turns out I’m going to use these very skills to spy on my own people, steal back the scroll, and, with luck, be escorted directly to Avaris by the very person I thought we’d have to sneak away from. The gods have quite a sense of humour.
Involved in my thoughts, I almost bump into someone as I turn a corner in the path. Looking up to offer my apologies, I see it is Paser.
Like the night of the ceremony, he is dripping blood.
This time it is his own.
37
“WHAT’S HAPPENED?” I SAY, ALARMED.
His head is tilted back and the blood runs freely from his nose.
“Nothing.” His voice is muffled. “Training.”
“Let me look at it.” I open the bag at my side and pull out some strips of linen. I think he is about to refuse, but he relents with a sigh, letting his hand fall away. The blood drips to the ground in slow, even splats. There is a cut on the bridge of his nose and his left eye is darkening at its inner corner.
I tear off two small pieces of linen and wad them into balls. “Insert these. What is it about the Hyksos’s training?” I shake my head. “You would think they’d want their men in good health, not broken and bleeding.”
“It is nothing.” Paser deftly stuffs a wadded ball up each nostril. His voice sounds even odder with his nose plugged.
“Sesha,” he begins, and I suspect he is about to apologize for his uncharacteristic brooding the other night. I touch his arm, letting him see in my eyes that there’s nothing to apologize for. There is something endearing about him standing here before me, battered yet trying to make things better between us. I do not deserve his affections, even as much as I want to return them. Pepi insinuated that the fewer ties I have to the people around me, the safer they will be.
Paser must see something in my expression, because he sighs and changes the subject. “I’ve seen their weapons,” he says finally, and I relax, though there is nothing calming about the Hyksos armoury.
“I have as well,” I say, recalling the stacked piles in the storage hut.
“Their bow is incredible,” Paser says, awe in his voice. “Its shape and size, and the power it has! The arrows fly so much farther, their aim true.”
“Are they training you to use it?” I ask. An archer is a good position for a soldier, back from the enemy and safer than hand-to-hand combat. I shiver, thinking of their wicked-looking axes. Hopefully it will not come to that.
He nods. “Sesha, with these weapons … the Hyksos are even more formidable than Thebes knows. If the chieftain is planning on battle …” His words trail off, but he does not need to finish them. Paser and I are quite adept at reading each other’s thoughts. Days surviving in the desert with not much more than the strength of one’s spirit will do that.
“It will not come to battle,” I say, touching his arm again. His hand comes up to mine, covering it.
“Let us pray to the gods it does not.” He is quiet. “Maybe you are right to do this thing with Pepi. To become a spy, to try to prevent conflict.”
I long with every bone in my body to tell him about the mission to go back to our city, but Pepi’s warning for discretion is still fresh in my mind. I bite my lip.
“What is it, Sesha?” he says, apparently sensing my own internal war. And despite my misgivings at a
ngering Pepi and falling short of another task, I cannot keep something like this from my best friend.
The words come out of their own accord. “I am to return to Thebes, with Pepi.”
He stares at me. “What?”
“Yanassi’s second-in-command is direly hurt. I convinced the chieftain that there may be something in the scroll that can help heal his man.”
“You are going to get the scroll?” he says in disbelief, hand falling away from mine. “Why would you do such a thing?”
“Many reasons,” I say. “I am obligated to help my patient in whatever way I can. Akin is husband to a friend and father to a child I helped bring into this world. And” — I reach my hand toward him again — “if I succeed, the chieftain said he will take us to Avaris. I convinced him that Merat and I wish to marry in their capital. Once we get there, we can escape. We can find your family and perhaps, with their help, leave for another place. You and Reb will not have to fight, and Merat will not have to marry Yanassi. And in Thebes I will get to see Ky.”
He shakes off my hand. “Do you think you are the only one who thinks of duty and obligation, Sesha? You make these elaborate plans without consulting any of us, as if only you know what is best.”
Bewildered, I look at him. “I did not mean —”
But, like the chieftain, he spins round on his heel and marches off into the twilight, leaving me standing there alone.
That night after the evening meal, I go in search of my friends, determined to clear any lingering dust from the air. It was not my intention to be high-handed; things just happened so quickly that there was no time to consult with them. I hope Paser will understand. Perhaps it is only the stress of his training and what he witnessed there that made him snap at me. He seemed truly worried for Pharaoh and our kingdom. The weapons must be impressive in action. As grandson to one of the best generals in recent times, my friend knows what he’s about when it comes to weapons and battle. Though Pepi and I go to Thebes for the scroll, and I also go for Ky, I think of my other reason for becoming a spy: doing what I can to help calm things between our peoples. At the least, someone needs to warn Pharaoh of the Hyksos’s weapons. But who will he listen to?
The Desert Prince Page 15
