Princess of Egypt - A Mystery in Ancient Egypt

by Nathaniel Burns

  Her only contact with him had been to access his whereabouts the night of Khay’s murder. He and several of the other assistants had claimed they were at a beer house together, a statement the beer house owner had confirmed. So Ramesses had continued with his appointment.

  Neferronpet was attractive, more refined than the men in Thebes and possibly only a few seasons older than her, yet younger than she had anticipated that someone in such a position should be, especially since the last vizier had been older. Nonetheless, he was considered the most capable by the other advisors, who had staunchly supported his appointment.

  He looked to be the active sort, though she doubted he would keep his physique for long, for she had quickly come to realize that men in power seemed to overindulge and quickly became obese.

  Though only visiting the palace, she could easily recognize just how easy it might be to overindulge, for she had on several occasions had to restrain herself from taking more than she needed at mealtimes. The palace tables were laden not only with the best food, but also with food usually reserved for special occasions. There was always a variety of bread with every meal, with fresh fruit, meat, or fish at least once a day. She had managed to restrict herself to having one varying item at every mealtime, especially the fruits that were so hard to come by in Thebes. However, when Maathorneferure had noticed her reluctance, she had ordered a basket of fruits to be placed in Neti’s room, with instructions to replace whatever had been consumed.

  Low murmurs around the room drew her attention back to the moment, and she watched as Neferronpet bowed before Ramesses and accepted the seal he was to carry and guard with his life.

  The princess squealed next to her, causing Neti to turn and look at her, for a moment concerned that something might be out of sorts. She saw the girl’s rapt gaze follow Homer as he approached Neferronpet and Ramesses with the official scroll detailing Neferronpet’s appointment as vizier. Neti watched as the young scribe’s gaze turned in their direction; after he handed the scroll to Ramesses, who read to all those present in the hall, he smiled warmly in their direction, and Ri-Hanna waved back at him.

  “You are in love with the palace scribe?” Neti asked, causing the princess to look at her.

  “Yes,” she replied eagerly, nodding. “He is a good man with a good heart. We are very much in love.”

  “When will he address your father?” Neti asked, looking toward the aged pharaoh, who had commenced with the reading, before looking back at the princess. “You are of age to marry, or does your father oppose?”

  “My father does not know, and please do not tell him.”

  Neti was taken aback for a moment. “Why would I do such a thing?”

  “Maathorneferure says he holds you in high regard and thinks that you are very intelligent. He would not question your word, and I have no wish for Homer to be sent away from here.”

  Neti felt a frown form on her brow. “But certainly your father will choose your husband for you, as is custom.”

  “He does not send us away like others do. He believes it would make Egypt weaker if we were to marry for allegiances. Besides, my mother made him promise he would let me marry for love.”

  “And what does your mother think of the scribe?” Neti asked, looking toward Maathorneferure.

  “Oh, Maathorneferure is not my mother,” Ri-Hanna quickly replied. “I am the third daughter of Nefertari. My mother and Maathorneferure were acquainted before she died. However, many think I am the daughter of Maathorneferure.”

  “Nefertari was your father’s first wife?”

  “And his most beloved,” Ri-Hanna quickly replied. “I am their last child, which is why he will not let me leave the palace. He says I look like her and wants to keep me close to remember her.”

  “That still does not explain why Homer does not ask for your hand,” Neti maintained.

  The princess sighed in response. “Things are not easy when matters of the heart are involved.”

  “Don’t I know it,” Neti mumbled.

  “But it will soon sort itself out, I’m certain of it,” Ri-Hanna professed, sitting taller and smiling warmly.

  Neti sighed. If only she could feel as optimistic about her and Shabaka’s situation as the princess did about her and Homer’s.

  Her mind once again strayed to the death of the last vizier. Their inquiry had come to a complete standstill. No one claimed to know anything of Khay ever even approaching a woman of pleasure, and those living around him had not seen or heard anything suspicious. They all professed that he kept to himself whenever he was home and had been a good man.

  The embalmer tasked with preparing his body for burial—not that she envied him the task—had confirmed her assessment when directed to the sting marks. It had irked her that the advisors had demanded another opinion, for she knew hers had been correct.

  Representatives of Serket, the scorpion goddess, had also been summoned. They had searched the entirety of Khay’s home, to no avail. There had been no indication of any scorpion presence, something Shabaka viewed as additional grounds for a murder charge. However, without any further information, the case had come to a grinding halt. Even the search for a possible source of the scorpion had yielded nothing, mostly due to the fact that no one was willing to come forward and identify anyone who either kept or traded in deathstalker scorpions.

  She looked about the hall, her gaze for a moment landing on the back of a dark-skinned man who looked similar in physique to Shabaka. Her heart raced in response to the thought that it could be him but soon sunk to the floor when she noticed the woman standing next to him. When the man turned, she realized that it was not Shabaka and felt somewhat relieved.

  Shabaka had spent a considerable amount of time with his family since their arrival, and his mood had somewhat improved since. He seemed less broody, especially since the sling had come off. Yet she was uncertain whether it was his regained mobility, his family, or both that had brought about the sudden change in him.

  His family was another matter that irked her. It had been difficult to accept that he had a family of his own. His unwillingness to introduce her, the woman who had helped him, to his family was what irked her the most. In a way, she wanted to see him with his wife, and possibly with his children. She wanted, no, needed to see that he was happy so that she could at least have some closure before returning to Thebes—though no one had yet given her an indication as to when that would be.

  The thought of returning home and to her life without him caused a restricting sensation to tighten around her chest. Nonetheless, she reasoned, the sooner it happened, the easier it would be.

  Later that evening, as she approached the heavily laden table, a voice behind her spoke up. “You are Neti-Kerty, right?”

  Neti turned around and immediately recognized the new vizier, warmly replying, “Yes, I am. And you are Neferronpet. How can I be of assistance?”

  “Oh, no, I don’t need assistance. I was just hoping we could talk,” the man smilingly replied.

  “Why, certainly we can.” Neti felt herself blush as he looked her over. To her knowledge he was unmarried, so she knew she would not be upsetting anyone by engaging him in conversation. She also saw no reason why she should be left alone when Shabaka spend as much time with his family as he chose to. It only seemed fair that she too should be able to spend some time in another’s company.

  “Please, join me,” he asked politely, and Neti followed him to the one of the woven mats, where they sat down on the plush pillows provided.

  Neferronpet was inquisitive and asked her numerous questions while they ate their food and drank their wine. And for the first time that evening, Neti did not feel completely alone in the unfamiliar world she found herself in. For a short while she even managed to put all thoughts of Shabaka and the scorpion mystery aside and simply be herself.

  The following morning when she arrived at breakfast she was taken aback for a moment by Shabaka’s presence. She greeted everyone prese
nt and helped herself to some of the bread and fruit before sitting down next to the princess, who seemed joyful.

  Neti suspected that the court scribe had something to do with it, especially since the festivities had carried on until the early hours of the morning and the princess had seemingly vanished after the meal.

  “I was thinking that tonight we should look into the scorpion matches rumored to be held in the lower regions,” Shabaka started, looking hopefully at her.

  Neti looked at him for a moment, uncertain, and then shook her head. “I can’t. Neferronpet invited me out for the evening.”

  She watched as a frown creased his forehead before he asked, “Neferronpet, the new vizier?”

  “Yes, he and Neti spent a great deal of time together last night,” princess Ri-Hanna said.

  “And from what I saw, it looked like she really enjoyed his company,” Maathorneferure added.

  Neti wanted to still them, having noticed how Shabaka’s body stiffened at their words.

  “Oh, I see,” he started, his voice maintaining a tone she had never heard before, which resulted in her own brow’s furrowing. “Then I’ll just have to go and see it for myself.”

  4

  NETI sat just outside the doors of her chamber, gazing out over the secluded garden the harem rooms shared. The palm trees’ leaves swayed lightly in the breeze, with the grass and exotic plants creating an atmosphere of serenity that she had quickly come to appreciate.

  She could hear the sound of water trickling into their bathing pool. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply, trying to still her mind while wishing she could find the same calmness within herself. When she opened her eyes again, she let out a frustrated sigh. She could understand why the pharaoh insisted on having such gardens; they were impractical, but consoling. However, it seemed that little could calm her troubled mind, for her instincts had been right, letting her know that something was not right upon their arrival.

  Shabaka had become even more distant and cranky, something that had on more than one occasion led her to question the reason he had invited her to accompany him to the palace in the first place. She would readily admit that the lure of meeting the pharaoh and the queen, as well as seeing the palace and the capital city, had to some extent swayed her, but the reality was not what she had hoped for.

  Half a moon cycle had passed since they had moored in the new capital, and things between her and Shabaka had steadily deteriorated, so much so that they only spoke to each other when it was absolutely required, and Neti actually wished he would just let her be—he had his family and his life in the capital and therefore had no need for her.

  Her torture was to end, however, in a few days, for she had finally received word that the bark to Thebes would be returning soon. And though she did not fancy the trip home, she wanted to return to the things that were familiar to her.

  But another part of her loathed the idea of leaving, for she had come to enjoy the new vizier’s company, even though she knew it was unlikely to develop into anything more, which was possibly what she enjoyed most about it. They lived in the moment, enjoying each other’s company, for nothing more was expected of either of them.

  A knock at her door drew her from her thoughts, and she turned to see one of the palace’s servants step into her chamber. “The queen would like an audience with you,” the young woman spoke softly.

  Neti rose and reached for her sandals, slipping them on before following the woman out of her chamber.

  She expected the woman to lead her to the gathering hall but was shocked when she turned instead toward a part of the palace that had previously been off limits to Neti. She led Neti along what felt like a maze of corridors until they came to a halt before a set of lavishly gilded doors and knocked.

  A moment later the doors opened, and Nakhtpaaten, the pharaoh’s chief healer, appeared. “Ah yes, you have come. Come in, the queen wishes to see you,” he spoke as he beckoned Neti inside.

  Neti reluctantly entered the chamber and looked around her.

  “Fear not, Neti. These are my private chambers, not those I share with the pharaoh,” Maathorneferure said, her voice sounding drawn.

  “Good morning, my queen, I have been told you wish to see me,” Neti replied, her step lightening as she moved deeper into the darkened room.

  “Yes, I wanted to speak with you about something,” she replied once Neti had come to a halt next to her bed, “but first the others must leave.”

  Her chambermaid and the healer made to object but left once they realized that the queen was adamant in her demand. Once they had left, the queen turned her attention back to Neti.

  Neti struggled to make peace with the abrupt change in the woman’s demeanor.

  “Please, sit, so that we can talk,” Maathorneferure invited, sweeping her hand over the side of her divan.

  Neti sat down and closely examined the queen, taking in the dark marks under her eyes. She was certain that the makeup the woman wore daily could not have hidden such marks. “What did you wish to speak about?” Neti asked hesitantly when it became apparent that the queen was seeking an opportune moment to engage.

  “You understand plants and their medicinal qualities?” Maathorneferure started softly, sitting up more in her divan.

  Neti nodded slowly. “Yes, my parents taught me.”

  “Then you may be able to help me, for I am feeling very ill, and as sincere as Nakhtpaaten is, he does not understand women’s troubles. Also, with Nebty having disappeared, I do not have a woman to consult with on such matters.”

  “I will help where I can,” Neti replied, her heart beating a little faster. She was not a healer, though she understood herds and plants well enough and could see to her own ailments.

  “Not long ago I started feeling ill, especially after dinner. At first I thought myself with child…”

  “My Queen,” Neti interrupted, “I do not think I should be the one you speak with. I have no knowledge or experience regarding children.”

  “First listen,” the queen insisted.

  The uncomfortable sensation within Neti increased, but she inclined her head in response.

  “A few nights ago, when Ramesses asked me what was wrong after dinner, I told him I might be with child. You have to understand that we have tried for a child for many years already. Though he has other wives who have borne him sons, it is my greatest desire to have a child.” The queen looked at Neti for a moment and then continued. “You can understand, then, how he felt about it when I told him I had the symptoms.”

  “I can imagine,” Neti replied softly, realizing what may be wrong.

  “Understand that I love him dearly and would happily give him as many children as I can. However, I fear that something is dreadfully wrong. When I told him this morning, he insisted that the healer see me.”

  “What is wrong?” Neti asked gently.

  “Well, as I said, at first I felt ill after eating, especially after dinner, and I would go lie down afterwards. I have had a few episodes in the last few days, but because of the anticipation of finally being with child, I did not heed the warnings.”

  “Warnings?” Neti asked in confusion.

  “Yes. I am sore here under my ribs.” The queen indicated where her liver was located. “I feel weak. My body is sore and I’m always thirsty, yet when I drink I get a sharp pain in my stomach. This morning I started my menses, and it should have stopped the vomiting, but I still feel ill. My head feels heavy and my body is weak. I know I’m not with child, but I do not know what is wrong with me.”

  “It has been a few days,” Neti said, rising from the queen’s divan before turning back toward the queen. “Have you had these bouts every night?”

  “Yes, for about a quarter moon.”

  Neti returned to the bed and sat down once again. She dropped her head into her palms as she tried to make sense of the queen’s ailment. “And Nakhtpaaten cannot help you?”

  “He is a dear, but too quick to dismis
s things as women’s troubles.”

  Neti sat for several moments. “Have you eaten or drunk anything different? New? Possibly foreign?”

  “No,” the queen’s flat answer came.

  Neti looked at the queen. “I know this sounds senseless, but has your food been checked for poison?”

  “Who would wish to poison me?” the queen replied calmly, shaking her head.

  Neti looked at her and then shrugged her shoulders. “I would not know. Would any of Ramesses’ other wives want you removed?”

  Maathorneferure sat for a moment in thought and then shook her head. “Most of them have their own estates or live in the harem. I am not seen as a threat to them because I have not produced any children. I therefore do not challenge their children’s claim to the throne. There is no reason any of them should wish to harm me.”

  “I do not know of any illness that causes what you are explaining. I am not a healer,” Neti replied, and then sat staring at the ground for some time before turning to look at the queen. “Have you eaten any mandrake in hopes of conceiving a child?”

  The queen shook her head. “There are no mandrakes here in Pi-Ramesses. If there were I would have long since tried eating them.”

  Neti rose again and insisted, “I need to speak with the healer,” before making for the door.

  She opened the door and found both the healer and the young woman waiting outside. “Nakhtpaaten, I need to speak with you,” she said, and indicated for him to enter the room. Once inside, she closed the door and explained to him her thoughts in a hushed tone.

  “I know of a test, but I do not know how well it works,” Nakhtpaaten said in a hushed tone. “Many call it a charmer’s trick.”

  “Anything, Nakhtpaaten. We need to find out whether she has been poisoned.”

  “You mean you cannot see it?”

  “Only in the dead, when their innards tell me what has happened to them. But we cannot let her die first and then find out.”