by Dakota Chase
I was grateful for his support in spite of him using Tut’s nickname for me, and gave him a quick smile.
Tut cocked his head, looking at us out of the corner of his eye. “There are those who would say you are also suspicious. You came here only yester-morn. Perhaps your king sent you here to destroy me from within my own house!”
My jaw dropped. All we wanted was his amulet, not his throne! “How can you say that? I thought we were friends!”
“Likewise, I thought until today that Ay was naught but a faithful servant. Yet, as you point out, circumstances infer that he is not,” Tut retorted.
“If we were going to try to hurt you, we could’ve done it yesterday, when we first met you in the garden. There weren’t any guards there, and we were alone for a short while last night too, in your bedroom, if you remember,” Grant pointed out.
Tut smirked. “I admit you are young to be assassins,” he said. “But this is what Ay will claim if I confront him with your accusations. He will have you killed, and I may not be able to protect you. He is vizier and has great power, make no mistake. He commands my legions and makes many decisions for the good of Egypt.” Tut looked away, frowning. He continued, although he seemed to be talking more to himself than to us. “He treats me as a child, telling me what he thinks I wish to hear, but doing as he pleases. I have begun to think it is time for me to fully take my place as pharaoh, including choosing a new vizier. Even my wife agrees with me on this. Nefertiti did too.”
I blinked, stunned. “Y-you have a wife? You’re married?”
Tut looked baffled. “Of course, I married as soon as I was able to fulfill my husbandly duties. It was a prerequisite of my taking my father’s crown as pharaoh.” He waved a hand, dismissing my amazement. “Her name is Ankhesenamun. It was a logical match. She is my half sister and Nefertiti’s daughter. The throne of Egypt will not pass from our bloodline to another.”
Ew! Yuck! I couldn’t imagine marrying either of my stepsisters. Even if it was legal and I was straight, it was too gross for words.
For some reason, Grant looked pleased. He had a small, smug smile on his face. I frowned at him and turned my attention back to Tut. “Do you have kids, then?”
“I have many goats,” Tut replied, cocking his head. “What have they to do with my wife?”
“Not goat kids. I meant children. Do you have any children?” I clarified. I’d need to remember that modern expressions didn’t mean the same thing in ancient Egypt.
A frown creased Tut’s forehead. “No, she has not provided me with an heir as yet. Two girls were born, but they walk the next world now. It is another worry…. I must have a son to follow me to the throne.”
That could be the reason he was murdered so young—before he could have children to inherit the throne, I thought. “I think it would wise to think about your safety, Tut.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
I still didn’t want to tell him I suspected Ay of murdering him, but I was worried that the murder of Nefertiti—after hearing about the blood in her room, I was sure she was dead—was the first domino to fall in Ay’s plan to become pharaoh. Tut might very well be next on Ay’s hit list. “We have reason to believe that Nefertiti was at least injured, because of the blood the maids found on her bed sheets. That means that somebody in this palace was able to get past her guards and hurt her. There’s no reason to believe they couldn’t do the same to you,” I said. I watched his expression carefully. He was at first incredulous, then slowly, understanding dawned in his eyes. He believed me, and that was important. Maybe if I could get him away from the palace, I could save his life without ever telling him what I knew about his murder.
“He’s right, Tut,” Grant said. “You shouldn’t stay in the palace. You don’t know who you can trust here in Memphis.”
“Leave the city? I suppose I could, but I would need an excuse, an explanation for my absence while everyone is searching for Nefertiti….” Tut looked thoughtful for a moment. “Of course! We shall go to the pyramids at Giza as we planned. I shall say that I will travel there to ask the help of Khufu and the gods. It will not be a lie; the gods will give me a sign that will help me find Nefertiti.” He said it with the utmost confidence, as if completely certain that the gods would answer his prayers.
It seemed I was going to get to see the pyramids up close and personal after all. I only hoped the trip would keep Tut safe and give Grant and me the opportunity to steal the amulet while we were at it. “When do we leave?” I asked. “The sooner the better, you know.”
“Yes. We will leave this very day,” Tut said. He clapped his hands for his servants and guards. “Ready the royal barge! We travel the Nile to Giza!”
Barge? Wait a minute… wasn’t a barge like a boat? Tut hadn’t said anything yesterday about using a boat when we talked about going to Giza. I hated boats! I got seasick just watching movies that took place on a ship. I remembered the funky-looking canoes we’d seen out on the river when Grant and I first arrived in Egypt. None of them looked even vaguely like anything I’d want to be sitting in on the water, especially when I knew the Nile was full of hungry crocodiles and nasty-tempered hippos!
Grant must’ve read my fear on my face, because he was smirking again. I swore I was so going to get even with him, if it was the last thing I did. “I don’t suppose we’ll have to ride horses to get there, will we?” I saw Grant’s eyes widen and held back a laugh.
Tut looked shocked. “Ride? On the backs of horses? How is that possible?” He shook his head. “We will use chariots,” Tut said. “Time is of the essence, and I do not wish to walk from the palace at Giza to the pyramids.”
Okay. Chariots were almost as good as having to ride horses, I thought, watching Grant’s face pale. It would be worth a boat ride to see Grant on the back of a chariot, trying to control a horse—if I didn’t drown first, or get eaten by crocs or hippos before we got there, of course.
Suddenly, I didn’t feel so smug after all.
Chapter Eleven
WHEN I saw Tut again, he’d taken off the cone-shaped hat and fake beard. I was glad; the costume made him look ridiculous to me, although I’m sure the Egyptians didn’t think so. Someone had painted his eyes, rimming them in dark green and gray, and his cheeks and lips were touched with red. He was dressed in a new, bright white, pleated kilt, and wore his amulet, along with a heavy, wide necklace of gold. A belt of the same precious metal, studded with gems, was wrapped around his narrow hips. Golden armbands encircled his biceps and ankles. A headdress made of small flat linked pieces of gold covered his head and fell to brush his shoulders. A cobra’s head (I was willing to bet it was molded from solid gold too, like everything else—Tut really was the bling king) was mounted on the hat over the center of Tut’s forehead. It had ruby eyes that glittered in the sunlight.
Four servants stood by a long, low lounge chair piled with pillows and shaded by a white awning. Once Tut was comfortably seated on it, they picked the entire thing up and carried him out of the palace, through the city, to the riverbank. Grant and I followed along behind the lounge.
To my surprise, the servants didn’t put him down when they reached the water’s edge. Instead, they carried both him and the chair into the water all the way to the barge, which floated just offshore on the river. They were very careful to keep Tut’s chair above water. I could see their muscles straining at the combined weight of the chair and Tut. I was almost surprised that he didn’t sink the damn boat when he finally got off the chair and stepped onto the barge with all of the gold he was wearing. The servants heaved the lounge aboard and placed it near the center of the barge.
Grant and I were not offered a ride to the barge. We waded through the river just like everyone else. I moved as quickly as I could through the water, keeping a sharp eye out for the crocodiles and hippos I was sure were lurking just beneath the surface. We were both soaked from the waist down by the time we heaved ourselves aboard.
Tut’s barge was a lot bigger t
han I’d thought at first. It was a low, wide boat that narrowed to curving points at both ends. There were several rows of flat bench seats on either side, and many long oars that poked down into the water. Each seat was taken by two strong-looking men, their hands already wrapped around the oars as if waiting for Tut’s order to begin rowing.
Archers stood at the prow and stern, ready to defend the king should anybody be foolish enough to attack the barge. They were each equipped with a carved bow and a quiver of arrows strapped to their backs.
We wrung out our kilts as best we could, and walked to the middle of the barge where Tut lay, comfortable—and dry—on his lounge. Two servants stood at his elbow, ready to get him a drink, or something to eat, or swat bugs and wave away the heat with big ostrich feather fans at his command.
To my amazement, another servant smeared honey on himself, covering his chest, shoulders, and arms with a thick layer of the gooey, yellow sweet. When a fly landed on him and got stuck, I realized what the purpose of the honey was: he was ancient Egyptian human fly paper!
Some people really have the life, I thought, then winced as I remembered Tut’s life might be over in just a couple of years, if not sooner.
Tut motioned for us to take seats next to his lounge. I sat down as close to the center as I could—I figured if the boat sank, I could grab hold of Tut’s lounge and float—and got comfortable, watching the men at the heavy oars. The muscles in their backs and arms bulged with effort as they began pulling and pushing, and the barge began to slowly slice smoothly through the water.
A very large, barrel-chested man who wore a whip curled at his side stood between the two rows of rowers and began to sing. Actually, it wasn’t really singing; it was more like a chant, and the oars moved in time to the cadence. I guessed its purpose was to keep the rowers all moving at the same time. Forward, back. Forward, back. The big man would chant a verse, and the rowers would answer with the chorus. It was a song about the gods of Egypt, and I caught the names Ra, Isis, Osiris, and Anubis.
People on the shore stopped what they were doing as we passed, and waved and shouted. I could see them lift small children to their shoulders, and some waded out into the water to get a better look. It was kind of like being in a parade, and I grinned and waved back at them even though I knew it wasn’t me they were looking at, but Tut.
He ignored them all with the air of somebody who’d been there, done that. I guess Tut was like celebrities in my own time, the ones who always had fans staring at them and paparazzi hovering around, snapping photos. Tut looked a little bored with the whole thing.
It was cooler on the river with the breeze of the moving barge blowing in our hair, and as time passed, I began to forget my fear of boats and enjoy the ride. I stared out at the water and caught glimpses of sharp-toothed, scaly crocs sunning on the banks, and the huge, broad backs of hippos in the water. One head broke the surface of the water, and it roared a warning at us, showing us its cavernous mouth and four giant, spiked, ivory teeth. The archers turned as one toward the hippo. I guess if it had come any closer to the barge, they would have shot it.
I’d always thought hippopotamuses were cute with their big, fat bodies and tiny little ears, like the dancing one in the tutu in the Disney cartoons, but I’d learned from Tut that they killed more people every year than the scarier-looking crocodiles. Seeing them up close and personal brought that home to me. They were not cuddly at all. They looked as nasty as their tempers when you saw them at close range, and I was very glad when we left the herd of hippos behind.
After a long while, the ride began to get boring. Imagine riding in a slow-moving car for hours without a handheld video game or MP3 player. The scenery all starts to look the same, mile after mile. I decided it was time for a little conversation, although I knew there were too many listening ears around us, and the subject of Nefertiti and Ay would be off-limits until the three of us were alone. I wondered what we should talk about and looked up at Tut. That’s when I noticed his color-rimmed eyes again.
“Why do Egyptians use makeup?” I asked. “In our country, women use makeup, and some men, but here it seems everybody does, from little kids right on up to the old people.” I noticed Grant looking at Tut too. He must have been wondering the same thing.
“How very backward your people must be!” Tut exclaimed. “Everyone knows there are many reasons. First, we invoke the protection of Ra by imitating his Great Eye,” he said, gesturing toward his own eye makeup, “but we must also protect ourselves from the strength of his sun. Painting our eyes does both. Plus, it helps protect us from the evil eye, curses sent by our enemies. And, it makes us look pretty, doesn’t it?” He laughed and swatted at a fly that had out-maneuvered the ostrich feather fans. “It also helps keep away biting insects! Udju and mesdemet are truly a gift of the gods,” he added, using the Egyptian names Merlin’s instant translation spell told me meant green malachite and lead ore.
“Ancient sunblock and insect repellant!” I heard Grant whisper. I nodded. It was a very smart thing to do, considering they lived in a desert. “I still think they look like drag queens,” Grant said under his breath, and I choked back a laugh.
Tut pointed off into the distance. “There are the three great pyramids, the tombs of the pharaohs before me. We have an old saying: Everything fears time, but time fears the pyramids. They have stood on the sand for a thousand years and will stand for ten thousand more. My own tomb will be equally as grand. When the time comes for me to enter the Underworld and have Anubis weigh my heart against the Feather of Truth, I will arrive as I live now, with all of my wealth, and because of this the people of Egypt will live in prosperity.” He seemed at ease to be talking about his death, but it made me uncomfortable, considering I knew that, unless I could do something to prevent it, death would be coming for him far sooner than Tut realized.
I stared at the pyramids, which were, essentially, the three largest tombstones in the world. “So, what do you do for fun here?” I asked next. I was reminded again that ancient Egypt had no television, no MP3s, no movies…. I couldn’t imagine what Tut did when he got bored.
“We play games like Senet, and Hounds and Jackals, celebrate festivals, and of course, we have dancers and musicians at the palace,” Tut replied. “Surely they have these things in your country?”
“Yeah, we have that stuff too,” I replied, thinking about my Wii at home, and the hours I’d spent playing Rock Band with my friends. I didn’t elaborate since I knew he wouldn’t understand the concept of video games, peripherals, and rock music legends. I knew Tut’s version of a board game wouldn’t be like Scrabble, or Monopoly either. I figured it was more like Stratego or backgammon, neither of which I was particularly good at.
Time passed slowly, and even though the breeze was cooler on the moving barge, the heat of the day began to make me feel drowsy. My head drooped as my eyelids grew heavy, and I must have drifted off, because the next thing I knew, Grant was poking me in the shoulder.
“Wake up, Aston!” Poke, poke, poke.
I tried to slap his hand away. “Sleeping. Leave me alone.”
“Wake up,” he said. “You were talking in your sleep! Anyway, we’re almost there.”
My eyelids fluttered open, and I sat up straight. “What? Where’s here?” I was confused, and couldn’t remember where I was for a minute. I realized the barge had stopped, and without the cooler river breeze, the heat was incredible.
Grant snorted. “We’re at the North Pole. Don’t you feel how cold it is? We’re almost in Giza, remember? King Tut? Merlin and needing to get his you-know-what?”
I came fully awake and scowled at him. “Tell me, were you born this sarcastic, or is it an implant?”
He sniffed and raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m always sarcastic, and you’re always an idiot. So tell me, who exactly was it that you were kissing in your dream?”
I felt my cheeks heat with a furious flush that had nothing to do with the sweltering heat, because I could
tell from his wicked little smile that I must’ve said a name aloud while I’d been sleeping.
He already knew who I’d been kissing in my dream.
Him.
I wanted to jump overboard and throw myself at the first herd of hippos I could find. I was never going to live this down, never!
Chapter Twelve
I WAS saved from trying to feed myself to the hippos by our arrival at Giza.
The riverbank here was nothing like the bustling beach at Memphis. There were very few people washing or fishing; I suppose not many folks wanted to live in the shadow of three tombstones, no matter how great the pharaohs, whose bodies lay buried there, had been. It would be like living next to a graveyard… a little too creepy for my tastes, anyway. Plus, Memphis was where the pharaoh lived, and that’s where all the activity was centered. I supposed it would be like comparing New York City or Washington, DC, with any small town in the US. If you wanted peace and quiet, you moved to the suburbs. If you wanted glamour and excitement, you got an apartment in the city.
The pyramids were much closer, of course, and just as I’d suspected, they were enormous. Rising above the desert dunes and small town set back from the river, they were gleaming brilliant white in the sun. The very tip of the largest one, the Great Pyramid of Khufu, glittered gold as the light caught it. I had to admit—even if it was just to myself—that it was pretty cool to see them for real and not just as a picture in a book.
We could see the Sphinx from the river too. With the head of a man and the body of a lion, it reminded me of a gigantic chess piece sitting there. I could almost imagine a colossal hand reaching down from the sky and moving it across a board only the gods could see.
Chess! Jeez. Was I turning into a geek, or what? It was as if being sent back in time was sucking the coolness right out of me. If I wasn’t careful, I’d be quoting Shakespeare and crap before I knew it.
