Suty picked me up with one hand, as if I were a cat, then shoved me out of the temple. I stumbled and fell into the sand.
“Whore was right,” Suty said, hoisting me by my sidelock. My scalp felt as if it would tear off. I screamed in pain as we marched away. “She heard someone sneakin’.”
Two guards had been stooping against the rear entrance of the palace but shot to attention.
“The servant snuck out and is a risk for having contracted the plague,” Akhenaten said. “Station a guard outside his room at all times. The doctor ordered him to be quarantined. Do you understand the importance?”
“Yes, son of Pharaoh,” Mudads said, his thin limbs whirling around a protruding belly before marching through the entryway.
Leading us down long corridors, the watchman glanced back and kept more than a few steps ahead of me. His upper body leaned away, as if it would help him avoid catching the disease. We arrived at my room, and Suty kicked me inside. I crashed onto the floor.
“Stay in there!” Akhenaten said, pointing at me. The V-shaped notch cut into his thumbnail was crusted in dried blood. “You have been wandering the palace at night, snooping around and making people anxious. Servants who become burdens are relocated, discarded, or put to death.”
“I needed to see Father!” I said. “He’s all I have … had.”
“If this happens again you will be cast out of the palace,” Akhenaten said, covering his disfigured thumb with his other hand. “Then you can attempt to make your way amongst the commoners, or live in the slums. It is not as easy as you may think, not as easy as this life.”
Akhenaten and Suty left, but Mudads remained outside my doorway.
Lounging on my blanket, Croc wore his displeased look of flattened ears and swishing tail. I lay next to him, welcoming sleep, but my mind raced with questions. How could I find out what had happened to Father? I peered up at the window. Or should I stay in isolation?
Tossing and turning for hours, my mind finally drifted into sleep. Hideous creatures and disease ran rampant throughout Egypt. I alone carried a torch and searched for other survivors, crawling over piles of bodies and through cities of the dead. I found no one. Something rose up before me. A black creature shrouded in fog. Green eyes glowed behind a veil of mist. My heart raced in fear. The creature leapt at me from the shadows. Its linen-bound face appeared in a white flash, jolting me awake.
My eyes shot open. Excited voices carried in from the hall as I rubbed my face and crawled to the doorway. The scent of deep rose mingled with light citrus. Excitement tugged my lips up into a smile. Mudads rubbed his potbelly as he debated with Nefertiti, Mutnedjmet, and Beketaten, their words rattling over each other.
“We’ll keep our distance,” Mutnedjmet said, her big eyes focused. “But we must speak with Horemheb, he—”
“Stand on the far side of the hall,” Mudads said, his eyelids drooping as he pointed with a spindly limb. “If the royal family falls ill during my watch, I’ll be executed.”
“We understand,” Nefertiti said, her head hanging low.
“Horemheb!” Mutnedjmet said, spotting me as I stood up.
What had happened to her the other night after she had left me in the magician’s lab? I couldn’t ask in front of the others, since I shouldn’t have been in there—
“I’m so sorry about your father!” Mutnedjmet said. “I tried to reason with mine, but the doctor ordered you to be confined. What will Akhenaten do without his most faithful servant?” She winked. “He says you’re disposable, but you know his wants and needs better than anyone. He needs you.”
Realization dawned on me, making my head feel light. I’d served Akhenaten’s bizarre needs most of his life and had a knack for preparing things before he even knew he wanted them. Indeed, no one could care for Akhenaten like me.
Nefertiti’s eyes remained dim, the green paint around them absent.
“Nefertiti, how’re you faring?” I asked. Beketaten rolled her eyes.
“I’m glad we’re under the palace’s roof,” Nefertiti said, “but we’re worried.”
“They may burn my father,” I said.
“They wouldn’t do that,” Mutnedjmet said, brushing dark hair from her face. “Like you, your father was one of Pharaoh’s favorite servants. Amenhotep would want him preserved so he can serve in the next life. The doctor and magician are attending to his cleansing, and even the high priest of Memphis has offered aid.”
Releasing a long sigh of relief, I asked, “The high priest?” I pictured the man in Thebes in the jaguar cloak. No one in father’s room was dressed like that.
“The mighty Thutmose, Amenhotep’s crown prince, my own brother,” Beketaten said, tilting the twitching end of her long nose up.
Thutmose was the high priest? “Why are you so sure about our safety, Mutnedjmet?” I asked.
Mutnedjmet’s pink lips moved rapidly. “I’m a little girl and men often don’t notice me. I overhear a lot of things in Father’s chambers, or in the throne room, or in the audience hall. I ask Mother and my Aunt Tiye—”
“One thing I overheard,” Beketaten said, folding her arms, “is if the disease spreads, they will have to resort to burning. A warning’s been issued throughout the palace. All those your father came into contact with have been ordered to look themselves over for lesions, and to report anything suspicious at once.”
My throat constricted with anxiety as I gave myself a quick inspection. No marks.
Croc stretched and yawned, then sharpened his claws by tearing the reed mattress.
“I love your cat,” Mutnedjmet said, kneeling while reaching out a small hand. “Here, Croc.” Croc eyed her as if considering his options, but strutted over with his tail sticking straight up. Mutnedjmet scratched under his chin and patted his arched rump. Purring, he lifted his head for better access. Beketaten pursed her lips, as if blowing me a kiss.
I stepped back in shock. Was it my imagination? I needed to figure some things out, and being trapped in this room left me few options. Kneeling as close to Mutnedjmet as I could, I whispered, “What happened the other night?”
“You mean when you were trying to get an amulet for Nefertiti?” she asked at full volume.
Embarrassment burnt my cheeks as Nefertiti blushed and diverted her gaze.
“Ay wandered by,” Mutnedjmet said. “I’ve never seen my father near the lab and he looked surprised, but he dragged me back to my room demanding answers as to what I was doing there so late—”
A man appeared, his muscular body diminishing the size of the women while commanding authority. Slamming the butt of his spear onto the ground, the gold embroidered necklace on his chest jiggled.
“Thutmose!” Mutnedjmet said.
Journal Translation
“COUSINS, DO NOT TOUCH the cat,” Thutmose said. His deep voice must’ve carried into the next wing. “The animal could transmit the disease.”
“We were comforting our friend,” Mutnedjmet said, jumping back. “He’s Akhenaten’s servant, the one who lost his father.”
Glaring down at me, the god-king-to-be released a long breath and ran a hand over his shaven abdominal muscles. His anointed skin glistened, power and strength exuding from him like scented oils. A sense of insignificance showered me.
“I am truly sorry,” Thutmose said, “but we need to remain vigilant until we solve the mysterious death. I have sworn oaths to protect all the men and women of Egypt from enemies, creatures, beasts, and disease of any sort.” Studying the magical wards surrounding my doorway, he traced something in the air and placed a firm hand upon my head. “It’s my duty,” I couldn’t hold his gaze, “to keep the kingdom safe and healthy. My cousins and sister are especially important to me. I do not hold you accountable, but I am leery. The magician and doctor are not sure of what claimed your father. They’ve never seen anything like it.”
“I-I understand, my prince,” I stuttered, kicking myself for my nervousness. My composure couldn’t be flattering
in Nefertiti’s eyes, and I’d never be comparable to this man.
“I will have Pentju, the doctor, see you,” Thutmose said, “and I am sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you,” I said.
Thutmose strode down the hall, his steps echoing as his cousins jogged at his heels. The difference between him and Akhenaten displayed itself like a lion beside a cat. I suddenly gained a deeper understanding of my master. To be second in line to the throne must invite never-ending what-if questions, but to also be repulsive compared to a brother so regal … it might feel like a curse. Pessimism and dejection often filled my soul when waiting on Akhenaten, leaving me to imagine how it would be if our roles were reversed. Pity slipped into my heart, but only for a fleeting moment. No, I could never be so vile.
Kicking the floor in frustration, I lay down beside Croc, exhausted.
“Hello,” a voice said, waking me.
The light of the Aten shown bright, its heat stifling. An overweight bald man entered, slinging a writing palette over his shoulder. The pungent aroma of rank sweat followed, along with his watermelon head. “Thutmose insisted I visit.”
“Thank you,” I said, jolting upright. “Please, tell me what happened to my father.”
“I believe he contracted the black plague,” Pentju said, tugging at the rolls under his chin, “although we’ve not seen it in ages. I don’t know how or why, but I pray we’ve not lost favor in the eyes of God.”
A great pain grew inside, my stomach aching as guilt twisted upon it like gnarled fingers. God rained punishment down on Father, to make me suffer. “Does the plague cause black and yellow spotting of the skin, and then sloughing?”
“Yes, I believe so.” The doctor sniffed, his eyes wandering. “I heard you snuck out and saw the body. The plague is contagious.”
“You examined him.”
“Boy, you are ignorant in the ways of the world,” he snapped, his face trying to wrinkle through the fat of his cheeks. “I wore protective amulets and charms, and the magician shielded himself with his most powerful spells. You were not so fortunate.”
“Oh,” I said, realizing my mistake. My stomach cramped again. What had I done?
“Now we have to see if you develop symptoms. Do you have marks, pain, fatigue, fever, anything out of the ordinary?”
“No, I feel fine,” I lied through the pain in my gut.
“Drop your kilt and turn around.”
I did as I was ordered, having to keep my backside exposed for an uncomfortable minute as the doctor examined and prodded every inch of me.
“The bruise on your left shoulder. What’s that from?”
“I’ve suffered restless sleep and haunting nightmares,” I lied, knowing the mark was from falling out of the window. But I didn’t want to let him know my secret escape route.
“Hmm,” the doctor said, his eyebrows narrowing over the bridge of his nose. “Without significant trauma I’d be more suspicious of—”
“Or from falling!” I said. “Suty has pushed me down a lot.”
Nodding, the doctor’s neck wobbled. “Where’d you get that?” He pointed at my wrist.
“I—” I looked down at Father’s bronze bracelet. “Father gave it to me.”
“Remove it! If you took it from his body, I’ll have it melted down.”
I took a deep breath. Images of a black bruise crawling under the skin formed in my mind. Sliding off the bronze armband, I was too afraid to look. I clamped my eyes shut and rolled my arm around for the doctor.
Silence.
I had to see. Opening my eyes … no marks covered the area. Sighing in relief, I pulled up my kilt and asked, “What about my father’s bloodshot eyes?”
Pentju remained silent for a moment. “I am not sure about the redness. Struck blind for a sin? I can’t find mention of red eyes in any of the old writings from the times of the plague.”
“And his tongue?” I asked.
“Bite marks. He … must’ve been in a great deal of pain.”
I shivered in horror with the thought. “Could someone have killed him?”
“There’re no fatal wounds from a physical attack,” the doctor said. “If there was a struggle, someone would’ve heard something. He lived in Pharaoh’s own wing where guards patrol day and night.”
Would someone murder Father? He didn’t have enemies, but I hadn’t been around much in recent weeks. Memories of the last encounter with Akhenaten and Father sent chills down my spine. Father really wanted to tell me something, but my master had interrupted our conversation. Akhenaten could be cruel enough to kill, but why would he care about a lowly servant? If someone with so much power wanted to get rid of Father, there would be easier ways, like public exile or execution. Hatred for Akhenaten must be clouding my judgment. But I needed Father’s death not to be my fault; I needed to know I didn’t kill him.
My stomach cramped again, and I doubled over to ease the tension. “Is there anything else, anything in the world that could make those wounds? Animal bites, perhaps?”
Tapping his hidden chin, ripples ran under his skin. “I’ve been pondering this from the moment I uncovered the evidence. There’s nothing else to link all the lesions together. An infection would have taken days to set in. Just because you were bitten and survived doesn’t mean you understand disease or medicine.”
“And the plague can kill that fast?”
“Depends on how fast you think it was.” He folded his sagging arms. “Remember, you’ve been gone a long time, and your father could’ve been hiding an illness, not wanting to worry you so soon upon your return. Was he acting out of sorts?”
“We talked about my trip and then he wanted to tell me something, but Akhenaten interrupted us and made me go to bed.”
Pentju’s sunken eyes clouded over. “He didn’t mention anything about what he wanted to tell you?”
Should I tell him Father scouted for unseen ears and claimed it concerned something bigger than this life? “No, but can I please pray to the Aten? I need to ask for guidance.”
The doctor turned and whispered to the guard outside. “It may only be the request of a servant, but we may all need prayer now.”
A gaunt servant with red eye shadow appeared. He licked his lips, set a meager tray of bread and beer down, and dashed off.
Scooting the contents inside with his foot, the doctor backed out.
“Please don’t burn my father!” I lunged toward the doctor in desperation, kneeling, and reaching for his kilt with open palms. “Only being eaten by the Devouring Monster would be worse punishment. Please bury him!”
“Gracious Pharaoh doesn’t want that, either,” Pentju said, placing a sandaled foot on my forehead to keep me at bay. “Not until the infection spreads through the palace will I order the burning of bodies. I’m on your side, boy.”
“Thank you,” I whispered and collapsed over the odorless meal, emotionally spent.
The guard reappeared and tossed a hardened mud object. The idol hit me on the back and clattered to the floor. Scooping it up, I placed the object on my windowsill. The immortal sun-disc being lifted by the scarab now basked in the light of the Aten. “What if a Dark One attacked him?” I asked.
The doctor scoffed. “Those are children’s tales. They don’t exist, at least not anymore.”
“I saw one south of Elephantine,” I said. “A group of them.”
“You saw a Dark One and lived to tell the tale?” Pentju’s eyes narrowed.
“They were miles away in the plains, attacking a herd of animals.”
“A band of Nubian barbarians,” he said, dismissing me with a wave. “If a Dark One attacked your father, he’d have been decapitated and ripped limb from limb.”
I nodded, trying not to imagine the horror.
“One last thing,” he said, leaning forward and falling to a whisper. “The magician is a very wise man and has faithfully served Pharaoh for years, but if he approaches, be wary! There’s something about him, something I�
��ve never seen before. Do not share secrets with him, if you harbor any.”
My insides turned icy as the doctor left, leaving a trail of suspicion. Even if a magician helped save my life at Thebes, their occult powers frightened me.
Praying to the Aten, I asked for forgiveness and promised all the devotion and offerings I could gather for the rest of my life—if the plague didn’t spread. If it did, the only memory of Father would be of a man who brought a grave disease down upon Egypt.
Night fell. The guard stationed at my room switched with another. I wanted to talk to Nefertiti, to ease her inner turmoil and help her regain happiness. But that wouldn’t save Father’s soul. I glanced up at the reed curtain over the window. No, I better not climb out. Father and I would be burned. I should accept my fate and the orders of my superiors.
A knock echoed outside my open doorway.
Gray eyes glared above a wide, flat face with high cheekbones and tangled veins of black. A white cat perched upon the sash on his shoulder. The magician from Father’s room! The same one I’d seen in the streets of Memphis before sailing on our adventure. The son of Hapu whispered to the guard, and the watchman left without argument. I waited, steadying my trembling hands by squeezing Father’s bracelet.
“Come here, boy,” the son of Hapu whispered and motioned.
My heart accelerated as I inched over, still gripping the copper for courage.
Deep wrinkles sunk into the man’s shaven head, emphasizing his concerns. “There are things you must hear. The doctor’s not looking at the entire picture, and I believe he may be misplacing the evidence on purpose …”
Present Day
SLINGING MY MESSENGER BAG over my shoulder, I followed Maddie out into the cramped aisle. We stepped from the train amongst a small number of tourists and emerged from the station into Cairo. Hordes of locals spilled through the streets, yelling or screaming as they shook their fists in the air. Shimmering waves of morning heat rose from the metal of nearby vehicles like translucent smoke. The stifling temperature and the mob made me nauseous. I turned around to gather my wits just as two men in thawbs exited the station. One wore a beard to his chest, the other’s was sparse and patchy. They pointed at me.
Eve of the Pharaoh: Historical Adventure and Mystery Page 15
