10
NETI MOVED ABOUT THE LAVISH LIVING SPACE. The room alone was the size of her entire home. Finely crafted wooden chairs with plump, flax-stuffed pillows were arranged around the room. Intricately woven mats were scattered across the floor, with several small tables placed throughout.
She felt oddly out of place, and though the palace had more finely crafted furniture, she at least felt somewhat at ease in her surroundings there. It could be the owner of the home, who had ensured that his servants gave her the utmost of care since her arrival, willing to see to her every need. Neferronpet himself had been the most perfect of hosts, and they had shared a delightful meal together. He was well spoken and considerate, and he often questioned her with regard to her work. She had noticed the darkened look in his eyes and felt the way his touch had lingered whenever they made contact. Her body had willingly responded to those touches and warmed at his undivided attention, and soon enough a warming ache settled in the pit of her stomach.
She gazed about the room feeling deeply unsettled. She tried to cast off the feeling, knowing it was only her nerves getting the better of her. She had never been the recipient of such attentions before, and as much as it excited her, it also petrified her. The only other person who had stirred such responses in her had been Shabaka, and with him she had not even needed the attentions, her body warmed just by being in his presence.
And that was the crux of the matter; she was uncertain whether she wanted to share such an intimacy with Neferronpet, yet knew that was how he expected their evening to conclude. Somehow she had always thought—hoped—that Shabaka would be the one to lay claim to her.
Neti fought against the dejected feeling that threatened to consume her. She told herself sternly that if Neferronpet approached her in such a manner, she should accept him, if only for the time she remained in the capital city. She was of age, and the sooner she got over her hesitation the better she could understand what kind of hold Shabaka’s wife had on him.
She shook her head, uncertain what to make of her thoughts and not liking the direction they were taking. She had never thought of herself as someone who would come between a man and his wife, yet she seemed to be thinking of such matters.
Her gaze landed on what appeared to be a blade of some sort, and she stepped closer to the small table on which it lay. She reached for it and lifted it, surprised by its lightness. She ran her finger carefully along the blade end, which felt sharp, and frowned slightly at the crudely crafted handle, which though smooth did not have any intricate carvings on it. It was unlike anything she had ever seen, and it led her to wonder why such a crude weapon would have an almost shrine-like placement in the room.
Just then, Neferronpet entered the room bearing two goblets of wine and made his way over to her.
Neti stiffened on his approach, her heart thumping in her chest as she awaited his reprimand for touching his property without his permission, but she was surprised at the smile that remained on his lips.
He stood next to her and asked, “You have an interest in weapons?”
“No, I was just looking at this,” she replied, lifting the knife she still held. “It is unlike any other knife I have ever seen.”
“That is because it is not a knife,” Neferronpet replied, holding out a goblet of wine for her.
Neti took the proffered wine and in return handed him the blade before he continued.
“It is a Hittite spearhead,” he said, turning it over in his hand.
“That would explain its foreignness,” Neti replied, watching as he carefully placed it back on the small table, and then added, “It seems important to you.”
Neferronpet looked at her, their gazes meeting before he cautiously replied, “It is all I have left of my father.”
A bolt of shock shot through Neti on recognizing the ache in his voice combined with the look in his eye. She reached out and placed her hand on his bicep, hoping it would convey her sentiment, before asking, “Your father was Egyptian?”
Neferronpet remained silent for a moment before nodding. “Yes, he was Egyptian, like me.” He took a deep breath before turning toward her. “My father held a position similar to your prefect friend. He was close to Ramesses and tasked with identifying anyone who had ill intentions toward the pharaoh.”
“You must have been proud of him,” Neti replied empathically, having noted his consistent use of the past tense.
Neferronpet released a regretful sigh and then shook his head. “I never knew my father. He was killed in the battle of Kadesh against the Hittites. I was but a mere boy at the time. What I know of him is what my mother taught me.” The last part seemed almost ripped from him, as if he really had to restrain himself.
Neti looked at him for a moment, slightly tightening her grip on his arm, wanting to convey her sympathies. “Your mother must have been proud of him,” Neti prodded gently, hoping to move away from the subject.
“Yes, she was. She told me so many things about him and what a great man he was,” Neferronpet replied, obviously having snapped out of his contemplation.
“And this?” Neti said, pointing to the spearhead.
Neferronpet looked at the spearhead and then turned to look at her. “My mother gave it to me when I came of age,” he replied, this time more relaxed. “She told me that the spear was so deeply imbedded in my father that the healers did not want to chance its removal on the battlefield, so they broke the staff in order to move him. My father did not live long enough, however, and died on the way to the house of life. The embalmers removed the spear when they prepared his body and then sent it with his body back to Egypt. He had a state funeral. My mother kept the spearhead and had the handle you see there fashioned from the remnants of the staff. When she gave it to me, she claimed that I had grown into an honorable man like my father and would serve Egypt and the pharaoh well.”
Neti smiled warmly at him and replied, “I think I agree with her. What happened to her?”
Neferronpet’s expression softened before he spoke. “Another man has claimed her as his wife, and he cares well for her. Though I doubt he will ever really own her heart, she seems happy.”
“And you get along with him?”
“I have no problem with his attentions to my mother. She should have a companion who cares for her, and he has never tried to distance us,” he replied, before dropping his voice a few octaves. “Besides, I know what it feels like to be ensnared by a woman’s beauty.” He lifted his hand to brush his fingers along her cheek.
A sudden jolt shot through her at his touch. The gentleness combined with his deep, dark gaze set her heart racing.
“You don’t have any other brothers or sisters?” she asked huskily, then swallowed because her throat suddenly seemed bone dry.
“No, my mother never conceived others,” he said, moving closer, causing her to lick her lips. “But I intend to take a beautiful wife who will bear me many children.”
Neti gasped, her lips parting as he came even closer. She could feel his hot breath on her lips, and the thudding in her ears increased as her heart pounded. She fought to remain in place, both wanting and fearing his kiss.
“But first I have to make certain her heart is not with another,” he whispered against her lips.
“What?” Neti gasped in confusion.
“Your Nubian friend?”
Neti swallowed against the dryness in her throat, her thoughts jumbled, her lips for some reason tingling. “We just work well together. He has other interests.”
“I see,” Neferronpet replied, his hand moving over to clasp her neck. “So there was nothing more in this afternoon’s display?”
Neti had to think back for a moment before shaking her head.
“Good, because I don’t intend to share,” he said, closing the remaining distance. Just as their lips were about to touch, a loud pounding sounded at his door.
The sudden sound seemed to snap Neti out of her trance, causing them both to suddenly jerk
back, making Neti spill some of her wine. She looked at the mess, horrified. “I’m so sorry. If you tell me where to find a cloth I’ll clean it.”
Neferronpet placed his goblet on the small table and reached for hers, placing it next to his as the pounding continued. “Don’t worry about it. One of the servants will clean it.”
Neti just inclined her head in response, her heart still pounding under her breastbone.
“I’m just going to go see to that,” Neferronpet said softly before stepping away from her. Her body seemed to chill immediately. Before he could even reach the door, however, one of his servants had gone to open it.
One of the palace footman hastily entered the room and bowed respectfully. Still breathing harshly, he started, “Forgive me the intrusion, honorable vizier of Egypt.” The man stopped, taking a few more gulps of air.
“What is so urgent that it could not wait until morning?” Neferronpet demanded firmly.
“The message is not for you, but for the embalmer’s daughter,” the footman said, turning to Neti.
A sudden sense of dread filled Neti. Just from the man’s stance she knew it could not be good; she just hoped it did not involve the queen.
“I have been sent to collect you and return you to the palace immediately; a chariot is on its way to transport you back.”
“There is no need for this, surely!” Neferronpet countered. “She is perfectly safe here in my home.”
“The pharaoh has instructed me to collect her immediately.”
“And why this sudden instruction?” Neferronpet demanded.
The footman seemed to gather his thoughts before speaking. “Earlier this evening, the prefect Shabaka and the palace messenger Moses were found severely beaten at the dockside.”
Neti felt frozen to the spot. Her heart dropped to the floor as she gazed at the footman in disbelief. She had to swallow several times against the rawness in her throat before she found her voice, hesitantly questioning, “They’re not…” she could not even bring herself to complete the question and felt incapable of breathing just at the thought.
“Both have been taken to a house of life, and I have been instructed to return you to the palace until the reason behind the assault have been uncovered.”
His words seemed to jolt her out of her stupor, and she quickly shook her head in response. “No, I have no desire to return to the palace.” Neferronpet turned to look at her, as if pleased by her decision. “You will take me to the house of life. Now,” Neti said firmly, causing Neferronpet to frown in response.
“I have orders to escort you to the palace. The pharaoh will cast me into the lion’s den if I do not obey.”
“Then return to the palace and tell the pharaoh I refuse, that I will not return until I have seen Shabaka and Moses.”
The footman seemed uncertain, looking as though he would still be cast into the lion’s den if he arrived without her. “I shall accompany you to the house of life and then return you to the palace,” he finally relented, his body drooping somewhat.
Neti turned to look at Neferronpet. “Please excuse me. I am certain you understand given the circumstances.”
Neferronpet clenched his hands as he replied. “Yes, I will see you later at the palace.”
They entered the house of life a short while later, the chariot driver having pushed the horses as fast as he could, and Neti stopped the first healer she could find. “I’m looking for the prefect Shabaka and the palace messenger Moses,” she demanded urgently.
The aged man looked her over before calmly asking, “You are his wife?”
Neti was taken aback by the man’s question and felt her blood boil. She angrily demanded, “His wife is not here?”
The man shook his head and replied,” I take it you are not his wife.”
Neti grabbed the man’s arm. “I need to see him!”
“Family only,” the healer replied.
“I need to know how he is.”
The healer looked at her and took a long, deep breath, as if gathering his patience. “We have just settled him. He is resting,” Then he cut her off as she made to speak. “That is all I will tell you.”
Neti glared at the man but relented. She knew she had no claim on Shabaka but promised herself she would lay into his wife when she arrived, failing to comprehend how the woman could not be at his side.
She turned once again to the healer and apologized.
The man looked about, ready to reprimand her, as she asked, “The young man with him?”
“The Hebrew messenger?”
“How is he?”
The doctor tilted his head as he replied, “His injuries are not as extensive as the prefect’s. He may be released soon.”
Neti felt her dread escalate again.
Just then, a large black-skinned male strode into the house, and Neti immediately felt his commanding air. Two familiar-looking boys stood on either side of him. It took Neti only a moment to recognize the two boys, and she felt her anger renew itself.
The healer, possibly having also sensed the man’s commanding presence, turned and asked, “Yes, sir, can I help you?”
“Yes, I’m here about my brother, the prefect Shabaka. I was told he was brought in earlier.”
The healer looked between Neti and the imposing figure before him before answering, “As I was telling the young lady here, he is resting.”
The tall man turned toward Neti and their gazes locked, with Neti refusing to look away. Neti’s breath caught, however, for his eyes were strikingly similar to Shabaka’s, though he seemed taller, possibly older than Shabaka.
He looked her over before nodding. “You must be Neti-Kerty. Shabaka has told me a great deal about you. You were a good friend to him while he was in Thebes.”
“He is a good friend to have,” Neti deadpanned in return.
The man suddenly laughed. “And I can see exactly why my brother likes you—you do not cower.” He then turned to the tallest of the boys. “Hazim, run and tell your mother I’m going to remain here for a while.”
“Yes, Father,” the young boy replied before turning away from them. His reply shocked Neti, causing her to swallow against the lump that had once again lodged itself in her throat.
The man turned his attention back to her and tipped his head slightly, as if trying to read her. “I suspect my brother has not told you much about himself.”
Neti could not find her voice, her mind still processing the fact that the two boys were not Shabaka’s children, that they were in fact his brother’s. She shook her head in reply, finding it difficult to comprehend the entirety of the situation. This led her to another question: was Shabaka even married?
“As much as my younger brother has told us about you, I suspect that he has withheld even more from you.”
“I’m sorry,” Neti finally stammered, “I don’t even know your name.”
“I am Prince Azar, Shabaka’s older brother.”
At his declaration Neti felt herself waiver, and Azar quickly added, “By Ra, he has not even told you that much.” He reached for her, almost as though ready to capture her should she faint. “Come, we will sit here,” Azar said, indicating the nearby bench. “I had not realized he had not told you. Shabaka has always wanted to be accepted for who he is rather than exploit the respect his title entitles him to.”
Neti simply nodded, remembering the diligent and patent manner in which he had handled situations in Thebes.
“I will be honest in saying that I was grateful when he returned here with you. Our father has for some time been pushing him to take a wife. I believe at one point he even considered speaking with Ramesses about the princess Ri-Hanna. However, Shabaka has always maintained that he will know when he has met his partner. Thus far, my father has been lenient, but he grows impatient.”
Neti simply shook her head, unable to comprehend how Shabaka’s brother had come to that conclusion. She also had no idea how to correct his assumption without seeming callous.<
br />
“You being here only confirms these matters. My father will be pleased.”
Neti made to counter him, but the man halted her. “He will not oppose the match, if that is what you fear.”
“Please just stop for a moment,” Neti finally managed to say. “Your brother and I only work together.”
“And so it will remain,” the man professed. “It is good when a wife has an interest in her husband’s vocation; it brings them closer, keeps them together.”
“I think Shabaka needs to explain things to you,” Neti replied, somehow knowing that this man would in all likelihood deflect any valid reason she came up with.
“There is nothing that needs explaining. You are the first woman he has taken a measured interest in. And with our father arriving soon, I cannot see it any other way.”
Neti simply dropped her head into her hands, knowing that until Shabaka was able to clear things with his family and explain their relationship, there was nothing she could say to counter them. She did not even want to contemplate the effect it would have on Neferronpet.
11
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Neti entered the dining hall, her shoulders sagging somewhat, her gait dragging, fighting hard to keep her eyes open. She looked over the room, for a moment both surprised and somewhat relieved to find only Ri-Hanna and Maathorneferure present.
She settled on the mat, carefully sitting down on one of the plush pillows, her body aching.
“Neti?” Maathorneferure questioned, causing her to look at the queen. “Is everything all right, or are you unwell?”
Neti shrugged her shoulders, shaking her head ever so slightly, her heart feeling heavy in her chest.
Maathorneferure nodded in response. “Ah, yes, I remember the times Ramesses was injured. It is difficult to find rest. I would tell you it gets easier, but the truth is that it does not.”
Princess of Egypt - A Mystery in Ancient Egypt Page 10
