The Song of the Bee-Eater (The Desert Queen Book 4)

by M. L. Bullock

  What had I called him? What name had I given him when I buried him in the sand? I could not remember, and that brought me great agony. He touched me; he was not a baby anymore but a boy, ready to play with his father. And it did not matter that I could not remember his name, for we were together now. Now he took my hand. How young he was. But this could not be, could it? He had died so long ago, even before Nefret and Pah had been born to Kadeema and Semkah. With his help, I could sit up now. Oh yes, I could even stand.

  And where was Farrah? She should be here to see him. Yes, I always wanted a son.

  And now he was here.

  Chapter Five

  Son of the Aten—Smenkhkare

  I found my father in the usual place—in Ipy’s lap. The concubine practically set up court in the grape arbor, but I reminded myself again not to become entangled in my parents’ ongoing feud over my father’s dalliances. Despite my pledge, I found it hard to hide my surprise at seeing the concubine wearing my mother’s golden headdress on her head, a prize I was told first belonged to my late aunt Sitamen. Wisely I said nothing about it. I had come with a purpose, and I would not be denied.

  I stood before my father’s couch and waited for him to stop toying with Ipy’s hair like a lovestruck teenager. She wore it in the latest fashion, long dark braids cinched at the ends with gold bands. Gold heaped off her arms and ankles. She looked a royal, or a grotesque caricature of one. My mother never wore such ridiculous amounts of gold. When he finally deigned to notice me, Pharaoh Akhenaten said absently, “Ah, Smenkhkare…where have you been, my son?”

  Stymied at his question since he’d been the one to send me away, I evenly answered, “I went to the School of Agility as you instructed, Father. I have come with the token you requested.” I held out my wrist and proudly showed him my latest band of achievement. It was proof of my bravery and skill at arms.

  “I see you wear another scripted band. This pleases me. Tell me, what does it say?” He sat up now and waited for my answer.

  With flushed cheeks, I read the script to him, “Strength is the Soul of Re,” I said proudly. “But it is only one of many that I have earned, my father. You have seen the others. This band completes my courses.”

  “Well done.” He rose to his feet, sweeping his blue and white robes to the side as he stretched his back. He waved at me, inviting me to walk with him. My heart cautiously skipped a beat. If I’d pleased him, I could ask him what I wanted. If I was patient and not too overtly clever. He surely couldn’t refuse me now.

  To my dismay, Ipy walked with us, fanning herself absently with her white plumed fan. She smiled at her ladies, who appeared enthralled by our every move. Some even cast their eyes flirtatiously at me. Despite her attempt at seemingly neutral femininity, Ipy’s wearing of my mother’s golden headdress made her my foe, whether she understood that or not. I pretended not to notice her attendance in my private conversation with my father. “What do you hope to accomplish next, Smenkhkare? You have done all I ask, and I am pleased with your achievements. How can I reward you?”

  “Father, I ask nothing of you. I need nothing, for you have given me everything already.”

  Ipy nodded her head in approval at my answer, but Father pressed on. “I insist you speak your heart, Smenkhkare. Surely there is something I can give you. Some reward suitable for a prince of Egypt.”

  “Yes, speak your heart, son of Pharaoh,” Ipy said in her simpering voice, “for you know your father to be a good, giving ruler to all his subjects. How much more to his own son? He speaks often of your courage and cleverness with the sword. I am sure he would refuse you nothing.”

  I found her comments disingenuous, for I did not believe any of their conversations were serious at all. Ipy was notoriously dull-witted, and if it weren’t for her pretty face she would never have caught my father’s eye as a young man. Now it seemed their old relationship had been rekindled. I hated that Ipy had inserted herself into our conversation, but as she was my father’s concubine, I could only show her honor. “Thank you, Ipy. You are kind to say this, but I know full well what a good and giving man he is. Pharaoh Akhenaten is the best of fathers.”

  My father walked with his hands behind his back. He was a tall man, taller than I, but in recent months his stomach had taken on a paunch. Still, it seemed the women found him attractive. I knew that my mother loved him a great deal and always smiled in his presence. I wasn’t as like him as some of his children were, but I had often been told I had a similar bearing. Taller than most, I spent much of my time stooping down to listen to those around me, but with my father I tried to stand taller than I was. He smiled as if he read my mind. “You have made a fine son, Smenkhkare. I have always been proud of you.” He slapped my back once, and we walked a while without speaking. The ladies trailed us, giggling at whatever it was that amused vapid women. Ipy turned to look at them occasionally to remind them to behave.

  “What of Kames? How is your brother?”

  “I am afraid I do not know, Father. I have not spoken to him these many months. He did not join me at the School of Agility.” I too was anxious to hear news of Kames, but Father did not offer more information. There had always been tension between them, a tension that had grown as Father had gotten older. I knew he was not my true brother, but we’d been raised together, schooled together and taught to treat one another kindly. At times, Father raised Kames up as a shining example of strength and virility. It was hinted that I should strive to be more like him, but not so much now. I could not fathom Father’s ever-changing feelings toward him. Mother was always tight-lipped when it came to Kames, but my grandmother Queen Tiye thought of no one else. If the whole world burned and nobody lived but Kames, it would be enough for her.

  There were three brothers in our household. I had another brother, Tutankhamen, but he was Tadukhipa’s son and not with us much, except when my Father summoned him to his court. That seemed strange to me since I’d always heard that Tadukhipa had ambition like no other. Surely she would want her fair-faced, pampered son raised near his father? But no, it had not been so. Not until recently. Yes, much had changed recently. Tutankhamen began visiting our sister Meritaten and with a demeanor not acceptable for a brother. I could not allow such a thing to happen. Father could not give my sister to the petulant, spoiled Tutankhamen. That would be the ultimate betrayal. I kept these thoughts buried as my father posed question after question regarding my training. I explained the school’s daily regimen of exercise and strength training. He smiled appropriately and nodded at certain points in my description, but I could tell his mind was elsewhere. As mine was.

  “I see,” he said. We’d left the grape arbor now and took seats in a small pavilion to seek shelter from the afternoon sun. Ipy quickly sat beside him and smiled graciously at me. He waved me to sit at the lower seat. I quietly resented being placed lower than Ipy. If Mother were here, she’d insist that I sit beside Father. “Now that we’ve walked this way and heard so much about your recent adventures, tell me. What can I give you, son? Your birth celebration approaches and I want to show all of Egypt how much Pharaoh favors his oldest son.”

  “Father, there is one thing, if you would consider it. It is such a request that I am loath to ask it, but only you can grant me this.” He smiled at me, his dark eyes pleased at my comment. I felt my pulse quicken as I continued. I had to be careful to say the right thing. Diplomacy had never been my strong suit. “You are the sun, and I the son of the sun,” I began clumsily. “I think it is time, if you allow it…” I dithered around the subject, but Father patiently waited. Servants approached with wine and a plate of food, but he waved them away as Ipy pouted.

  “Please speak your mind, Smenkhkare. I’ve already said I would not deny you.”

  With breathless words I spoke what I’d been longing to say. “I want to marry, Father.”

  He chuckled knowingly and nodded. “Love strikes us all, doesn’t it?” Ipy giggled at his comment. With a grin he waved the waiting s
ervants forward. They quickly poured and tasted the wine before handing it to him. “I see you are not immune either. For that, I am both delighted and saddened. For in matters of the heart all men are equal. Even the son of Pharaoh cannot deny love’s power.”

  He drank half a cup of wine before he put it down for the servant to refill it. He appraised me expectantly, looking deep into my eyes as if he’d find the answer to a mystery there. I felt nervous under his scrutiny but didn’t flinch. He loved me, of that I was sure. I prayed silently to anyone who would listen: Please let this happen. I was suddenly glad that I’d come to Pharaoh first with my request. I knew Mother would not approve of my proposal. No matter how many bands I earned, she wanted me to remain a child at her feet. I was no child but a man.

  The older servant handed me a cup and then offered another to Ipy. She batted her eyes at him disapprovingly.

  “I envy you, my son. First loves have a heat and power unlike any other.” He reached for Ipy, who took his hand and kissed it. Was my Father trying to tell me he loved the concubine? Were the rumors true, then? Why would he now do this? Surely there was a reason. I would never have believed my mother to have been capable of being unfaithful, but the news of her affair with Aperel had spread like wildfire throughout the court. I would never say such a thing to Pharaoh, for what if he’d not heard the latest rumor? I could not put my mother in danger. No, I did not believe it. I would not believe it.

  I sipped the wine and placed the cup beside me. I did not enjoy wine as some men did. It made me feel reckless and less in control of my tongue. My father drank it day and night, and I’d never heard him misspeak once. “So, who is it that has stolen my son’s heart so completely? A daughter of Salilah, perhaps? I hear her daughters are exquisite and all skilled musicians. Perhaps one of Ipy’s daughters?”

  “No, Father. Although your daughters are fair, lady. And I do not know these daughters of Salilah, though I have heard of their beauty. It is Meritaten that I speak of, Pharaoh. I love her and want to marry her.”

  In a sudden rush Pharaoh rumbled to his feet, slamming his half-empty cup on the marble-topped table. Ipy froze, ignoring the wine that splashed across her chest.

  “You dare ask me this? Was this the queen’s idea?”

  “No! It is my own heart that asks, Father. I love Meritaten. I have not told my mother of my intentions. How have I offended you?” I did not know how to move, what to say. Fear fell on me as I winced under Pharaoh’s anger.

  “You think to take your sister, my daughter, to wife? Do you intend to also ask for my kingdom? For that is what it sounds like!”

  At the implication Ipy also stood, and her hand flew to her mouth. “No!” she shouted in surprise. She rushed to Pharaoh’s side and steadied him with her hand.

  “Never! Never would I dream such a thing, my father and Pharaoh! Please, have mercy! I withdraw my request.”

  He walked away from me, his fists clenched. Ipy dogged his heels and glanced back at me nervously. She waved at me to stay where I was. I could not hear her words, but she touched his arm and leaned into his ear. He ducked away from her at first, but she persisted until eventually he returned to me. His handsome face was lined with anger, his dark eyes two hard rivets showing no recognition that I was his own flesh and blood. With one word he could kill me. And he might. Many who loved Pharaoh also died by his hand.

  He stood with his hands on his hips, staring me down. I thought for one second he would strike me down with the back of his hand. I’d heard of my father’s hot temper but until recently it had never been directed at me. Not like this. To think it would turn on me so was more than I could bear. I cast my eyes down ashamedly. I lost all hope that I would have Meritaten. She would never be mine. I’d failed her.

  “Lady Ipy has spoken on your behalf, Smenkhkare. She is right, of course. You are a man now and have a man’s needs. It is not right that Pharaoh’s son should satisfy himself with the flesh of whores and commoners. You deserve a royal wife.”

  I could hardly believe my ears. Was he saying he would grant me my wish? I lifted my head slowly but did not rise to my feet. I would remain on my knees until told otherwise.

  “Thank you, Father! It is all I ever wanted,” I whispered nervously, staring at his sandals.

  He stared at me again and said evenly, “I will not give you Meritaten. I have already made plans for her. I will, however, give you someone with patience who can teach you how to be a husband. Someone with a lovely face and a pleasing voice.”

  Again Ipy appeared, this time whispering in Father’s ear. He nodded with a smile. “You may have your sister, Ipy’s daughter, Ankhesenamun. She is not promised to anyone and will make an excellent wife.”

  I stood swaying under the weight of his words. How could he do this? This was not fair! I could not help but speak my heart. “As you say, Father, love has no master. I love Ankhesenamun as my sister, but not as a wife. How can I marry her?”

  My father stepped toward me. He was so close now I could reach out and touch him. “You will not have my kingdom yet, Smenkhkare. You will take Ankhesenamun as your wife. That is the end of it. That is my word. Go now.”

  I rose awkwardly and stepped back, bringing my fist to my heart in a show of obedience and spun around, leaving him behind.

  As I stepped away, the fear of Pharaoh abated and I began to feel desperation rise. And then anger. So desperate was I that I began to weigh my options. How could I refuse Ankhesenamun and risk my father’s wrath? How would I live without Meritaten?

  With every step I felt my resolution growing. Yes, I would go to my mother, the Great Queen! She would have to help me. I was her son! I could never marry a daughter of Ipy!

  I would take my case to her and pray she still had enough influence to change his mind. I would not tell Meritaten of my failure, not yet. But I could not wait long. Court gossip, especially news of an impending marriage, would travel quickly.

  If I could not have Meritaten, I would not marry. I would risk my father’s wrath, but I would die if I had to. My cause was just.

  Yes, I would go to Mother and plead for her help. I would do anything she asked, even rid her of Ipy.

  I had to do this rather than break my own Meritaten’s heart. And hers was the only heart that mattered.

  Chapter Six

  Queen of Despair—Nefertiti

  Queen Tiye dawdled into my chamber this morning before my bath, her face askew with worry. “Where have you hidden the baby, Desert Queen? Where is Kames? Give me Kames.” I pulled the robe back on and came to her. I held her bony hand in mine and patted it.

  “He is a baby no longer, Great Queen. He is a man now and in Pharaoh’s service. He has gone on a diplomatic trip to the west. You will see him soon.” I led her to a nearby padded couch. I couldn’t believe she’d arrived unattended and in the shape she was in. She wore no wig, and her natural hair, thin and curly, sprung up around her face like an unruly cloud. She’d slept in her makeup—slick streaks of kohl slid down the side of her face, and her lips were ringed with stiff red paint.

  “Oh yes, I remember now. What of Thutmose? Has he come home yet?” She spoke now of her own son, dead at least twenty-five years. I could not break her heart again this morning, so I told her a pleasant lie instead. I knew the pain of losing a child. I had lost three myself, and the grief never left me.

  “No, Great Queen. He is still away, but he too will return soon. For now it is just you and me.” I squeezed her hand and poured her a cup of water, which she accepted. Her hands shook, but she drank the water until the cup was empty. Setting it on the table, she took in the view of the room.

  “I like this room. I always liked this room. It feels very cool in here. And there are no bats. I dislike bats.”

  “Yes, it is very cool here. And I never see bats. Are you hungry, Queen Tiye?”

  “No, I am not.” She rubbed at her nose with her finger and eyed me. “My son is very lucky to have you, Nefertiti.”

 
What to say to that? If she were whole and hale, I’d beg her for help. I’d throw myself at her feet and plead with her to speak to her son for me. But she was not. This was only a fragile shell of the intelligent, quick-witted, sometimes cruel woman I knew. And as far as I knew, Akhenaten no longer allowed her in his court. We were like two cast-off queens. Forgotten and wished dead. Such a sad ending, but it wasn’t really the end, was it? Pah’s words from last night rang in my mind, and I had tried all morning to pretend none of it had happened. How could I leave the people I loved behind? Tiye needed me. It was she who had brought me here. She’d been the very Hand of Destiny that led the Falcon of the Red Lands to the throne of Egypt. Now she was losing her mind and had no one to care for her. When Huya was living he took great pains to hide her condition, but now that the old man was gone, there was no one else. No one she would trust. Except me.

  “I hear the Hittite witch returns with her son today. I wonder what misery she will bring with her.”

  I smiled at her. Not because of her insult toward Tadukhipa but because it was evidence that at least some part of her mind worked well enough to recall her hatred for Kiya, the Monkey, as she liked to call our sister-queen to her face.

  “Oh? I had not heard that,” I lied prettily and bit a piece of fruit.

  “Then you are in trouble. You should know every soul who passes through the gate and when they leave again. It is not enough to hide here in your comfortable room, Nefertiti. You must rule your kingdom. Knowledge is everything. When I was your age, I knew daily who came into the kitchens, who slept with my servants—and my husband. And who approached my husband’s throne for favors. You must have eyes everywhere if you hope to see the enemy come toward you. If you fail to do so, you will no longer be Great Queen but only the Queen of Despair.”