Tiy and the Prince of Egypt

by Dee, Debbie

  She sat underneath the canopy. Siese and Bek would surely notice the problem soon. She didn’t have to say anything at all. They were experienced travelers, after all. But perhaps it was their familiarity with boats that caused them to overlook the simplest solution.

  Bek tossed in a few more barrels of clean water. Tiy stood and wrung her hands together, her breath quickening. She might be able to fix their problem, and they could be on their way without losing any more provisions, or clean, fishless water. She searched for Siese, but he was nowhere to be seen.

  “Um…” Tiy started. Bek didn’t hear her.

  “Do you need something, Tiy?” Nebetya asked as she positioned herself on a brightly-colored cushion.

  “Is the sail rigged correctly?” Tiy asked a little louder.

  Bek glared at her with clear contempt in his eyes. “It’s fine,” he said without a single glance at the sails.

  Tiy bit her lip. “I think the top ropes are too long. The sail is pushing us down.”

  “It’s fine!” he said.

  Tiy slumped onto the nearest cushion. She was a girl; what did she know? But she knew she was right, or at least there was a very good chance she was right. She stood again. “The ropes on the bottom are half the length of the ropes on top.”

  Bek dropped a barrel and straightened. He kept his eyes on her until he was fully upright and then glanced upward. The complete and utter surprise on his face was almost comical. Tiy suppressed a smile. She was right, and he knew it.

  “What do you know, filthy foreigner,” he muttered under his breath. He stalked to the mast and worked the riggings until the sail shifted. The barge lightened and they began soaring down the Nile again.

  The wind whipped through Tiy’s hair. She felt smug. She wanted to say, “I told you so,” but she kept it to herself. After all, her mother told her it was unbecoming to gloat. Tiy smiled and lifted her shoulders. Her mother wasn’t around to stop her.

  Chapter 9. Desert Guardian

  They entered the city of Memphis just as the sun melted from flame to desert sand, the golden rooftops of the temples glinting in the dying light. The palace stood high with dozens of balconies overlooking the great city. A pair of obelisks pointed to the sky from the center of the palace entrance, inscriptions covering all four sides. Gleaming white walls bordered the palace complex, easily four times the height of an average man. Hundreds of palm trees stretched up from the garden oasis around the palace, flaunting their leafy protection to the tired desert travelers.

  The barge glided to a platform at the edge of the stone quay where a long walkway spread like a silver ribbon. Several sets of steps branched from the water to the walkway above where merchants and craftsman unloaded their goods into the sprawling marketplace.

  Tiy exited the barge behind Siese and Bek and climbed the six stairs to ground level. Men women, children, soldiers, and merchants scurried along packed streets, winding between tall buildings of limestone and mud, and cutting through narrow alleys.

  Nebetya nudged Tiy and nodded toward their travel chests. Their personal things had been attached to two long poles of bamboo that were carried on the shoulders of the oarsmen. Siese nodded for them to follow him and Tiy quickened her step to stay close by.

  They pressed through throngs of people, trying to make their way toward the first pylon entrance to the temple grounds. She caught snippets of chatter and gossip among friends and resisted the urge to turn her ear toward them. She couldn’t afford to take her attention away from Siese’s retreating form. Given his height and general stature, he moved through the crowd with greater ease. Her short, small frame, on the other hand, gave the throng less reason to step out of the way.

  They passed narrow houses two or three stories tall with flat roofs and high windows to release the heat. Several families perched atop their roofs, watching the people pass below as they sipped drinks under canopies of silk. The scent of lotus and jasmine drifted from the windows and swirled into Tiy’s willing nostrils. She sucked in the heavenly aromas, welcoming it as it covered the market smells of body odor and fish. Enraptured by the sights and smells surrounding her, she didn’t notice the heavy merchant until she stumbled into him.

  “Humph!” the merchant grunted as she bounced off his portly belly.

  “Forgive me,” Tiy said in a rush. She scrambled to her feet before the bustling crowd could trample her.

  “You have dirtied my cloak you filthy wench!”

  Tiy glanced at his attire and noticed a slight smudge on his chest. She doubted anyone would notice it, but she knew how unfashionable it was to wear anything less than the whitest and cleanest linens.

  “Please forgive me,” she said as she glanced around for Siese. But she couldn’t see him anywhere, nor could she see anyone else from the barge. Did any of them care that she wasn’t with them any longer?

  The merchant grabbed her upper arm and twisted her toward him, his angry face seething with disgust. She winced and squeezed her eyes shut, turning her face away from the sharp smell of wine on his breath. The merchant grunted again and she opened her eyes to see Siese suddenly towering over them.

  “Release the girl,” Siese said, his voice low and steady.

  “She has dirtied my tunic! I expect payment.”

  “This lady is Tiy, daughter of Yuya and Tuya of Akhmim, Officials to the Crown.”

  The merchant dropped her arm like it had burned him and flashed his gaze to those in the crowd who had stopped to watch. He turned his attention back to her, his eyes narrowing.

  “Impossible. She is foreign.” He spat the last word as if it were a foul taste in his mouth.

  He reached to yank the wig from her head, and Tiy thrust her hands up, fast enough to prevent him from pulling it off, but not before the yellow hair above her brow had been exposed.

  A collective gasp came from the growing crowd.

  “You see,” the merchant said with disgust. “She is nothing but an imposter! An abomination! This foreign filth has spread her grime onto me!”

  “You have gone too far, old man,” Siese said with impatience. He pulled a dagger from his waist and slashed through the merchant’s tunic. “The lady you have assaulted is the Desert Guardian to his Highness, Prince Amenhotep. You will pay for your disrespect.”

  The merchant jerked his gaze up from his slashed tunic, his eyes wide with unbelief and fear. “Forgive me,” he said, his words pouring from his mouth. “I had no idea she was the one who saved Prince Amenhotep.”

  Siese nodded toward a guard to collect the merchant and, without another word, turned once again toward the temple complex, leaving Tiy breathless and flustered. She fumbled behind him, trying to understand how her brief encounter with Amenhotep could have already become common knowledge. And what was it he called her? The Desert Guardian? She wondered what it meant.

  Siese led her to a courtyard within the palace compound and pointed past the small pool with lotus blossoms floating along the edges. “Your chambers are through that door. This courtyard is only three courtyards from the center of the palace.”

  Bek’s upper lip raised in a sneer. Siese placed his hand on Bek’s shoulder and shook his head. Bek looked away.

  “Is there something wrong with my chambers?” Tiy asked, confused by their silent exchange.

  “No, no, of course not.” Siese said. He chuckled and slapped his hand twice on Bek’s back. “Bek is just jealous because we are eight courtyards from the center.”

  “She doesn’t deserve this.” Bek said through his teeth.

  “Hush now Bek, what do you know of royal politics?”

  Nebetya cleared her throat. “What is in the center?”

  Siese stood a little straighter, his chest puffed in pride. “Pharaoh, his chief wife, and Prince Amenhotep reside in the center. For your young lady to be so close, is a very high honor.”

  Bek spit into a nearby vase, and Siese chuckled again. “Sometimes, Bek, I fear you would do better in a vocation that wou
ld allow you to release these strong emotions you seem incapable of repressing.” He slapped Bek on the back again, and the two of them left the courtyard.

  Tiy strolled toward the pool and sat at its edge. Flicking a lotus bloom with her finger, she watched it skitter across the water and bump into the next lotus. The two rocked back and forth until their petals took on too much water and sank. She sighed. How many Egyptians would she collide with before she sunk? Both the merchant and Bek seemed determined to make it happen.

  Nebetya sat next to her and pulled the blooms out of the pool. She shook off the water and set them afloat again. “Don’t let people like Bek bother you, my lady. He is too blinded by his own stupidity to see what a deserving person you are.”

  Tiy laughed despite herself. “He is rather stupid.”

  “He calls himself a sailor, and yet he didn’t even notice the sails were bottom heavy. Siese is right, he needs a new vocation.”

  “Siese didn’t notice either.”

  “Well, Siese had a headache, didn’t he? I know I can’t think straight when my head is pounding.”

  Tiy nodded. “Siese doesn’t seem to think it is wrong for someone like me to be here.”

  “Don’t worry, my lady. There will be more like Siese. Not everyone will think like Bek.”

  “Or the merchant,” Tiy added with a frown.

  Nebetya rubbed Tiy’s back. “Or the merchant,” she whispered.

  A pair of lady servants took Nebetya to the servants’ chambers and Tiy eventually wandered to her own chambers. The stone walls were covered with paintings of Nile reeds and lilies. Ebony furniture brought from the south was carved with exquisite Egyptian details, enhanced by inlays of gold. She sat on the edge of the bed with its raised reed mat and thick feather cushion, letting her gaze wander around the room. She felt like a princess in a palace filled with waiting adventures and hidden secrets. A princess who would never belong.

  Chapter 10. Magical Room

  Tiy wore her finest kalasiris, its finely woven linen sweeping across her ankles like butterfly wings. Her fingers trembled as she tried to clasp a gold necklace around her neck. As one of her larger pieces of jewelry, it draped to her shoulders and fanned across her chest. She wore it for good luck or when she was nervous.

  Like today.

  Today was the first day of school. She didn’t know what to expect and was afraid she would be a complete outcast. Amenhotep would be there and, given their last encounter, she hoped he would befriend her even if no one else would. But then again, perhaps she misunderstood what happened between them. Maybe she read too much into their light-hearted moment. Maybe she had been fooling herself all along that they could be friends. He was royalty, after all. Who was she? A country girl. And a foreign one at that.

  She felt sick to her stomach.

  Nebetya reached forward to take the gold necklace. “Let me help you, my lady,” she said. “It is why I came, is it not?”

  Tiy nodded in quick, jerky motions. Perhaps she wasn’t as calm and collected as she thought. She chanted words of encouragement in her mind, a lecture of sorts that she often gave herself in difficult situations.

  Nebetya smiled as she rimmed Tiy’s eyes with black kohl. Tiy had gotten accustomed to not wearing any cosmetics while at her country villa, but here in the center of the universe, it would be a severe social mistake not to. She looked in the mirror, smiling at the way the kohl made her eyes appear larger, more luminous. And more Egyptian.

  Nebetya swept her hands across Tiy’s face and dabbed a few drops of perfumed oils onto her neck. The air around them filled with jasmine and lavender and Tiy closed her eyes to breathe in the calming aroma. She stood as Nebetya wrapped blue leather around her waist and added silver bangles to her wrists and ankles.

  “You look beautiful,” Nebetya said.

  “It doesn’t matter. They won’t like me anyway.”

  “You don’t know that. What isn’t there to like? Besides, once they get to know you, they’ll see what a good friend you are.”

  Tiy smiled. “Thanks, Nebetya. I’m glad you came.”

  Nebetya, of course, broke into tears. She squeezed Tiy’s arm and mustered a smile. “Me too,” she said in a croak.

  Tiy laughed and ran her fingers once more through her favorite wig. It was long and voluminous, much like the one she had lost in the desert, but this one had cobalt blue glass in the shape of birds dangling from the brow. They twinkled in the light and clinked together like a song as she walked. It made her feel feminine and lovely, giving her the added confidence she needed.

  Tiy slipped into her copper-studded sandals and brushed a hand across her pleated kalasiris. There was nothing left to be done; she had no more reason to stay within the security of her chambers.

  “Have a good day, Nebetya,” Tiy said. She curled her lips into a mischievous grin. “Please try to control yourself among the servants. I don’t want you to frighten them when they realize every bat of your eyelashes comes with a steady stream of tears.”

  Nebetya laughed and wiped her face with her hands. “I don’t know what you mean. You have a good day too, my lady.” She gave Tiy a quick hug and burst into fresh tears.

  Tiy smiled and began the long walk toward the palace schoolroom. As she neared the end of the last corridor, the chatter of children filled the air. Tall, gilded doors were opened wide to welcome the students into a vibrantly painted room. Colorful walls depicted a garden full of life and carefree birds, vines and flowers, grapes and palms. The floor resembled the Nile waters with teeming fish and lotus flowers.

  Tiy loved it. She had never seen anything so enchanting and awe-inspiring. If only the whole palace could be painted in such a manner, she would always be filled with hope and laughter. It was such a magical room and made her feel as though anything were possible.

  There were about forty children ranging from ages four to sixteen playing and talking in small groups. She glanced over the groups, searching for the students around her age, the magic of the room giving her the confidence she needed to introduce herself. She began moving toward a group of girls when the instructor stood at the front of the room with his arms folded across his chest. He had a look on his face that said talking would no longer be permitted. His eyes narrowed at the disruptive children as they bounced around the room.

  Tiy moved to stand at his side, waiting to be acknowledged and told where to go. He clapped his hands up high near his head and the children quieted, sitting on the floor with crossed legs. The instructor appeared pleased with the sudden order and warmth emanated from his countenance. His eyes sparkled, and when he spoke, his voice was like baked bread—soft and soothing, yet firm and substantial.

  “I am Menkheper,” he said to her before he turned to the class. “We have a new student today. She is Tiy, daughter of Yuya, Superintendent of Cattle, and Tuya, Singer of Hathor. She has come all the way from Akhmim. Please welcome her.”

  A chorus of voices rang out. “Welcome, Tiy.”

  Tiy searched their faces. None of them were Amenhotep. Unable to deny the deep disappointment she felt, she pressed her lips together to hide her frown. She hated that she let herself have so much hope for his friendship.

  A small boy in the front of the class raised his hand.

  “Yes Anpu?” Menkheper said.

  “Is she Prince Amenhotep’s Desert Guardian?”

  Tiy blushed and shifted from one foot to the other. There was that phrase again. The instructor glanced at her and gave her an apologetic smile.

  “Yes,” he said, “she is the very one. However, let us wait until she gets to know all of us a little better before we ask her to share her experience.”

  Several shoulders slumped in disappointment, and Tiy breathed a sigh of relief. How was she supposed to explain that she was just a regular girl and not some guardian?

  “You may have a seat in the back,” Menkheper said.

  Tiy nodded and took a seat on the floor. Reed pens and black ink were
passed out, along with white, polished limestone pallets. The older students appeared bored as they practiced the hieroglyphs Menkheper dictated. Several tutors assisted the younger children while the older students were left to their own devices. Tiy scribbled furiously trying to keep up, her script coming out sloppy and incorrect more often than not. She was the best pupil in her class at home, but she realized quickly that she would have to work very hard to catch up to the other students her age.

  Just when Tiy feared her hand would cramp and fall off, Menkheper called for a short break. She dropped her reed pen and shook her hand to relieve the stiffness. A girl a few years older than her turned around and smiled, her whole face lighting up. Tiy dropped her hands onto her lap.

  “I am Petepihu,” the girl said. “You can call me Petep. I’m Amenhotep’s sister. I believe you know him.” She winked an eye. There was no hunger for fantastical tales in Petep’s smile, only genuine interest and warmth. Tiy breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps the schoolroom would help her make friends, after all.

  “Hi Petep,” Tiy said. “I’m so happy to be here.”

  “And we are glad to have you. Thank you for saving my brother. My father has already lost a son, and losing another would have caused him too much pain.”

  “I did what anyone would have done.” Tiy said. She paused and looked at her clasped hands. “Where is Prince Amenhotep?”

  Petep opened her mouth to answer, but another girl flipped her head around like a viper, her braided wig swinging wildly around her face.

  “You think that just because you saved him you have some kind of claim on him?” the girl said.

  “Kepi,” Petep warned.

  Kepi ignored Petep and continued her attack. “You think that just because you did something any one of us would have done that you should have special rights and privileges? You don’t belong here, country girl. You don’t even look like you belong here.”