Princess of Egypt - A Mystery in Ancient Egypt

by Nathaniel Burns

  She wanted to touch him again. It was exciting and calming at the same time. It was soothing and warming, and it confused her that she should take such pleasure from it. Instead, she tried to draw warmth from the stone in her hand, but it left her wanting, yearning. Her body seemed unwilling to move. Her actions seemed slow, her thoughts lethargic, while everything seemed to slow down yet intensify at the same time.

  “Neti.” His husky voice gripped her low in her abdomen, causing it to contract in a pleasurable yet painful way. The husky, throaty note it held caused her heart to lurch and a warming sensation to fill her abdomen. The area along her hip where his fingers had brushed tingled, burned as their gazes locked once again.

  She tried to say something but could not find her voice. Eventually, she placed the rock on his chest and lifted her hands, trying at the same time to communicate with him.

  Her action drew a frustrated groan from Shabaka, and he tried to reach for her but immediately fell back, wincing in pain. His response quickly drew her back to the moment and to what she was supposed to be doing.

  She heard his hissing, wheezing panting as his eyes remained pinched. She scanned over his body, noting the bulge below the sheet at his groin, and was uncertain whether she should feel relieved or upset by its presence.

  She was intimately familiar with the human body, used to handling it, and she knew the differences between a man and a woman, but she had never had a male respond to her in such a way. She had had enough time to inspect the male body in the past and knew well what things looked like and which things differed. Yet the knowledge itself gave her little understanding of the response and whether it or the bruises and injuries he had suffered was what was causing him pain. Swallowing, she reached for the stones in the pot, placing them on his chest as she went about her work, careful not to allow her touch to linger, thinking that the sooner she finished, the sooner she could leave.

  She saw his fists clench as she continued his treatment. Finally, she called Moses to help her right him so that she could bandage his chest.

  She avoided his gaze, made sure not to touch his skin for a moment longer than was absolutely necessary, and felt the irritation of the situation rise inside her.

  Once finished, she moved away from him, needing to place some distance between them, wanting to somehow make sense of it all. She gathered up the sheaf of papers as she spoke. “I’m going to go. Moses, you must stay with him for the night, and call me if something is out of place.” She felt her entire body burning in awareness, knowing that Moses may have witnessed their interaction. She had been oblivious of his presence.

  She stepped away from Shabaka’s divan, clutching the sheaf of papers to her aching breasts. Their pressure did nothing to disperse the tender sensation that seemed to fill her breasts. She heard Shabaka hiss loudly, and the sound made her turn back to him, noting his movement. She quickly returned to his side, pressing her hand to his shoulder as she said, “Lie still; you need to rest.”

  He relented under her touch and settled back down onto the divan, his gaze searching hers. This only caused her to snatch back her hand, realizing what the contact meant. The warmth of his skin sent a tingle through her fingers that traveled up her arm and caused her to swallow.

  She stepped back a few paces before announcing, “I’m going to my chamber. Call me if there are any problems, Moses.” She turned, making for the door.

  Once in the passage outside the room, Neti braced her back against the wall and breathed deeply, waiting for her heart to settle back into its natural rhythm. She looked around the passage and realized she had no idea where she was, pinching her eyes in an attempt to collect herself.

  A few moments later, Moses appeared from the chamber, the pot of cooled wrapping stones in his grasp. He tilted his head and looked at her in confusion.

  “I don’t know how to get back to my chamber,” Neti managed to croak out.

  Moses righted is head before speaking. “Follow this passage to the end, then turn right. It passes Maathorneferure’s chamber. You came from the other side.”

  Neti nodded and turned away from him, but froze as he said, “You know, he really likes you. He’s just not good at showing it.”

  Neti’s shoulders dropped, and she allowed a long sigh to escape her lips. The less-than-subtle location of his chamber was a reminder that he was royalty and that no matter how drawn she was to him, they were an unlikely match. She pinched her lips to contain the moan that wanted to escape, then squared her shoulders and moved off.

  16

  THE SUN WAS JUST PEEKING OVER THE WATERS OF THE NILE as Neti made her way down to the docks with her appointed palace guard. The water lapped softly against the royal bark as she stepped onto the gangplank, her satchel bumping against her hip as she moved toward the bow of the ship.

  Well-toned men were conveying the remainder of the goods onto the royal bark and securing it. She turned her attention away from them to gaze out over the river’s waters. It was the first time in weeks she had been so close to it, and its lapping against the sides of the bark soothed her still unsettled nerves.

  All throughout the evening her mind had lingered on the situation between her and Shabaka, to the point that she had become highly irritated with herself and forced her mind to process everything she had discovered. This had kept her up for most of the night while she considered everything that had happened since her arrival. It had helped somewhat with drawing her attention away from the situation with Shabaka, though her final assessment had left a hollow sensation in the pit of her stomach. She wanted to discuss it with Shabaka, but the events of the previous evening rendered her uncertain as to how to broach the subject with him, or whether she should even approach him at all.

  She was tired, her head pounding in retaliation for her lack of sleep, her body aching as she gazed out over the serene surface of the river. The surface only stirred when fish came up to play along its surface, breaking the surface with their backs, making long V-like wakes before slipping back into the murky depths. Similar patterns formed when the Egyptian geese and mallard ducks swam along the reeds, their goslings and ducklings following in their wake.

  She looked back at the men, who were securing the last of the goods, and wished it was the bark that would return her home. She allowed a longing sigh to slip from her lips as she turned her attention back to the distant reeds, watching as they swayed in the water. She drew some strength from the calm of her surroundings.

  She heard the first of the pharaoh’s entourage board the bark and turned to see the high priest, Ptahhotep, and his assistant board. She bowed her head in acknowledgement, as did the others, and then looked beyond the man and his assistant, watching as the others slowly and systematically approached the bark. Two of the court scribes also boarded, along with one of the healers. Then Shabaka approached, his steps slow and measured. Even from a distance she could tell he was still in agony, but he kept his head high and his upper body rigid as he progressed. Some distance behind him, the pharaoh and Maathorneferure approached, along with their accompaniment of palace guards.

  She felt a frown form on her forehead at the notable absence of Moses. The young man had always accompanied her or Shabaka wherever they went. His absence concerned her, especially with the realization she had come to the previous evening.

  Neti dropped her gaze as Shabaka stepped onto the bark, swallowing several times as he stood beside her.

  Ramesses and Maathorneferure were the last to board, while the young men, having already loaded the goods, took their positions at the oars.

  It was only when Ramesses looked about at those present and demanded to know the whereabouts of Neferronpet that she realized that the vizier had not boarded the bark. The realization made her blood turn cold. It served as a confirmation of her suspicions, it fit the pattern of events, and she had to swallow several times while trying to remain upright.

  A few moments later, a messenger came hurtling toward the bark, boltin
g up the gangplank as he dropped to his knees before the pharaoh. The guards instinctively moved to grab the unknown messenger, who wore faded clothing and was gasping in an attempt to regain his breath. “My Lord, I bear a message of great importance,” the young man said between pants.

  “You may rise,” Ramesses commanded.

  The man rose from the position, and Neti winced on noticing raw the scuff marks on his knees, questioning whether it was really necessary for these messengers to literally throw themselves at the pharaoh’s feet.

  “I bear a message from your vizier, Neferronpet,” the man announced when he had righted himself.

  “Speak,” Ramesses commanded.

  “I have been sent by my master, Frakeh, to inform you that the vizier has fallen ill. He complains of a burning stomach. The vizier has requested me to notify you that he cannot accompany you on this trip.”

  Neti’s breath caught at the announcement, and she saw the way Shabaka turned to look at her, his brow lifting questioningly. However, she merely shrugged her shoulders in response.

  Ramesses looked at the man before him for several moments before he finally spoke. “I see. Tell your owner that I trust my vizier’s good judgment and expect a speedy recovery.” The man nodded in response, bowing low before Ramesses as Ramesses said, “You are dismissed.”

  The man rose and turned from the pharaoh, carefully walking down the gangplank only to stop and check his knees before moving off again.

  Ramesses looked at all those around him and ordered the gangplank to be lifted, after which the oarsmen steered them from the quayside.

  Ramesses and Maathorneferure settled in their thrones, looking about them and waving at the residents, who exuberantly waved back as they passed. Neti could understand their exuberance, never having thought she would one day have the honor of meeting the pharaoh, much less accompanying him on the royal bark. Even with the weight of her thoughts, she could not push down the elation she felt as the citizens along the bank waved and sang as they passed. She turned to look at Shabaka and smiled when their gazes met before once again looking out over the water, watching as the residents of Pi-Ramesses arrived to see off their pharaoh.

  It was easy to see that the people of Egypt loved their pharaoh. They knew that his governance and management of the kingdom had made it prosper. They were at peace with neighboring realms. Trade thrived and families had no fear of losing their sons in some battle or other.

  But it was as she looked upon the aging pharaoh and his queen that her concerns mounted. Though it was not uncommon for someone seeking power to overthrow those in positions above them, it was an entirely different matter to attack and systematically kill off the pharaoh and his most trusted advisors. If that happened, Egypt’s stability would be threatened, toppled, and whoever ascended to the throne in his place would be faced with the considerable task of calming the inevitable uproar that would result in the neighboring kingdoms. Neti did not even know which one of Ramesses’ sons was to ascend to the throne. Her gaze lingered on the water as she reflected on everything.

  She almost leapt overboard when she felt a hand land suddenly on her shoulder. The warmth spreading through her body from the contact left her in no doubt about whom it belonged to. She turned to look at him, smiling shyly as their eyes met. His swollen eye had gone down enough to allow it to open.

  “Come, it’s time to eat,” he said. She rose from where she had been sitting near the stern of the ship. It was the only place that had offered her some solitude for her thoughts. She followed him to the mat the accompanying servants had prepared for their meal, taking in the multitude of foodstuffs placed upon it.

  She settled next to Shabaka and reached for one of the pieces of flatbread, halting in mid-reach when one of the servants started to pour wine into their goblets. At first, she had to fight down the feeling of unease that filled her, but she eventually gave into it and rose from her seat, reaching for her satchel. Shabaka looked at her, a scowl marring his brow as she returned. She drew the small pouch of slivers from her satchel. The others looked at her in astonishment, only a few of them knowledgeable about the slivers and their purpose.

  Ramesses was about to speak up when she dropped a sliver into her wine. Everyone looked at her in disbelief except Ramesses and Maathorneferure, who remained still. Neti looked at the sliver floating in her wine, her eyes distending in disbelief as bubbles started forming at its edges. Without thinking, she placed the goblet back on the mat and turned to the server, taking the urn from her and demanding “Where did you get this?” as she looked over it, trying to distinguish whether there were any identifying marks.

  “What’s going on?” Ptahhotep demanded.

  “The wine is poisoned,” Maathorneferure replied, watching as Neti placed the urn on the mat and glaring at the servant. Her words caused Ptahhotep’s assistant to spit out the mouthful of wine he had just taken.

  “It was with the others,” the young woman said, stuttering somewhat under the multitude of gazes that had fallen upon her.

  “Take me to them,” Neti said, picking up her goblet and tossing its contents back into the urn before picking up her bag of slivers.

  She followed the girl to where the wine was stored, rinsing her goblet with some of the river’s water before decanting some wine into it and adding a sliver. She watched and waited as the bubbles formed once again along the sliver.

  Four of the six urns tested positive for poison, and Neti felt her hear leap into her throat as she returned to the mat. She settled down again and noted that the wine had been removed. Everyone turned to look at her.

  “Two of the urns are safe to drink from,” she announced, noticing that no one had even started on their meal.

  Maathorneferure locked gazes with her as she said, “The urns from yesterday.”

  Neti nodded in agreement, replying, “I think they may have been switched.” She reached for a piece of flatbread.

  “What wine urns from yesterday?” Ptahhotep demanded, looking between Neti and Maathorneferure.

  “We were in the kitchen yesterday and came across some wine urns that had been misplaced,” Neti explained as she broke her flatbread in half, looking at it before placing it on her plate.

  “So you’re saying someone swapped my wine with poisoned wine? Why?” Ramesses demanded.

  Neti looked around her at the multitude of servants. On noticing her gaze, Ramesses immediately commanded the servants, “Leave us, now!”

  The servants all moved to the prow of the bark, and Neti waited a few more moments before speaking. “I suspect that whoever is doing this,” she said, waving her hand at Maathorneferure and Shabaka, “is trying to rid you of your most trusted servants, possibly even making an attempt on your life.”

  Everyone looked at Neti in disbelief, the meal seemingly forgotten.

  “Explain,” Ramesses demanded.

  “Consider who has been attacked, my Lord, “Neti started calmly. “First it was your vizier, Khay, and then Maathorneferure was poisoned and your healer murdered. Then there is Shabaka’s recent attack. I suspect that Neferronpet may also have been poisoned. All of these people are close to you, they are people you trust.” Neti saw the high priest’s eyes distend before she added, “And now it appears that all of us here almost fell victim as well.”

  She looked at Ptahhotep as she spoke. “Forgive me, high priest, if I speak ill now, but it would appear to the citizens of Egypt as a sign from the gods if we were all to return to the palace ill and weakened by poison.”

  The high priest looked at her, nodding before replying, “You do not speak ill child; your words make an uncanny amount of sense. However, finding those responsible is proving to be challenging.”

  “But knowing it is happening allows us to counter them to some extent,” Maathorneferure replied. “Only a select few knew the real cause of my illness, and only those closest to us knew we could detect the poison.”

  “So this has been going on for some time.
”

  “The person behind this is methodical and precise. He has carefully planned it to make him appear innocent.”

  “You already know who’s behind this?” Shabaka asked in disbelief.

  “I suspect someone; I just need to confirm it,” Neti replied.

  “Who?” Ramesses demanded angrily.

  Neti turned to look at him as she answered, “The treasurer, Sahure.”

  “What?” Ptahhotep demanded in disbelief. “And how can you validate such a statement?”

  Neti looked between the high priest and Ramesses and drew a deep breath, knowing that both of them had the power to fling her to the crocodiles. Without thinking of the consequences or possible retribution, she cleared her throat and said, “He has had access to everything and knows the exact worth of the Egyptian empire. He is also wise enough to know that if anything were to happen to all of Ramesses’ trusted advisors, Egypt would be flung into turmoil and confusion, possibly even war with its neighbors.” She turned to Shabaka. “Shabaka is a prince and therefore royalty in the Nubian empire, and Maathorneferure is the daughter of the Hittite king. Ramesses is Egypt’s ruler. Should anything happen to them, uncertainty would spread. It has been proven many times that trust is fickle in the face of doubt.”

  “Be that as it may, it does not explain the death of Nebty,” Maathorneferure countered.

  “I suspect she somehow discovered the plans and was killed to keep her from talking. The way she was buried lends credence to this hypothesis.”

  “And Khay?” Ramesses asked.

  “Sahure had knowledge of the scorpions and access to them. He has also on several occasions proven to be uncooperative and unwilling to divulge information. Furthermore, he has access to the messenger hall and was a good friend of the healer. He could have used his seal long before the healer was murdered.”

  Ramesses looked at her, somewhat perplexed, before he spoke. “I hear what you say, and it all makes sense, but I cannot see him as the mind behind it all. He is not a vengeful person.”