Footsteps clapped outside. Scooping up Croc, I braced my back against the far wall.
The plump doctor appeared, followed by a familiar man in a pristine wig. Ay. His jaw muscles protruded as his lips grew taut.
Shoving myself farther into the corner, my nerves screamed for me to run.
“So you’ve wandered outside,” Pentju said, tapping his chin, which sent ripples down his neck.
Nefertiti’s father squeezed Pentju’s shoulder and pulled past. “You are disrespectful scum!” He pointed a long finger at me. “Mutnedjmet said you persuaded her into sneaking around with you.”
Disbelief weighed my head down, my chin hitting my chest. She did?
“You exposed my daughter to the plague!” His face flared red. “If she dies, you’ll be burned alive by my hand!”
Conceding, I closed my eyes. My second conversation with my potential father-in-law was also less than ideal. But what could I do? Kneeling before him, my gaze remained on the floor. “I only have respect for your daughters, master Ay. If I wronged them you may smite me as you see fit. But I do not carry the plague. I’d never have risked their lives.”
Nothing.
Glancing up, the red hue in his cheeks deepened to purple and his fists balled up. I flinched with anticipation, but I’d take a hundred blows if it meant Nefertiti’s father would approve of me. Knuckles landed between my eyes. A flash of white preceded the crack of pain, and I crashed to the floor. Ringing sounded in my ears and blinking lights floated across the room. I tasted metal. Croc hissed. Rising to shaky feet, I tilted violently. I wouldn’t be able to take even another of those punches.
“Let me examine you before you conclude you don’t harbor any disease,” Pentju said, kicking Croc aside with a meaty leg.
Bracing against the wall, I lifted my kilt.
After a moment Penju said, “You still don’t have any lesions.”
Ay’s handsome features relaxed.
“Another day,” Pentju said, “and you won’t be any more of a threat for disease transmission than Ay or myself.”
Ay’s orange-lined eyes narrowed. “But if I ever catch you with one of my daughters, or if Mutnedjmet says you cast another lusting stare at her …” He shook his head.
I inhaled in surprise. Had my brief feelings for Mutnedjmet been that obvious, or was he really referring to Nefertiti? But either way, Mutnedjmet told him? Anger grew inside. “I never—”
“I don’t care for anything you have to say!” Spittle flew from Ay’s lips, showering my face. He stomped out.
Slumping down in defeat, I studied Pentju. “What about a swarm of insects?” I asked.
“What did you say?” His eyebrows crawled toward the bridge of his nose.
Did he know the truth? “Could the marks on my father and Thutmose be from venomous creatures?”
“We’ve already discussed possibilities other than plague,” he said, his cheeks jiggling and flashing red. “Hornets and wasps don’t fly at night. And no other insects carry that much poison or anger to strike thirty times.”
“What if the swarm were scorpions, or snakes who spit poison?”
Recoiling in surprise, he tugged at the fat under his chin. He laughed. “Cobras enter houses in search of small prey, scorpions for warmth, but they don’t hunt in packs like wild dogs. You can’t arrive at the correct conclusion through ignorance. Why are you so intent on finding an alternate cause?”
“I’m trying to figure out why my father died from this plague no one else has.” Desperation took hold of my tongue and lips. “What if I told you I saw such creatures?”
Waving me off, he said, “I’d say you were dreaming, or a liar. And tell me, why wouldn’t the victims cry for help? If they had shouted, people inside the palace would’ve heard something.”
“Magic! Do I have to figure everything out for you?”
He slapped me across the face, causing my head to whip to the side. My cheek burned like a bee sting.
Mudads peeked in. “Everything all right?”
“Fine,” Pentju said, shoving his bulk out into the hall.
“I irritated him,” I mumbled, holding my cheek.
“Doctors …” Mudads said and shrugged before stepping back out.
Recent events played over and over again in my head. Was the son of Hapu under the cloak? The green light was suspicious, and it couldn’t have been the overweight doctor.
Cursing in frustration, I pounded on my bed. A longing for vengeance consumed my frail body, an inferno that could only be quenched with the fall of Akhenaten. Even the love of Nefertiti may be unable to overcome such emotion. And Mutnedjmet, my one supposed ally, had betrayed me. No one could be trusted—
My stomach clenched and burned, a knot of tension. Yellow liquid heavy with acid spewed onto the tile. Grimacing, I wiped my mouth. Was I coming down with plague after all?
Croc climbed into my lap and purred. Petting his back, I traced his deep stripes. My pain subsided. I needed sleep, preferably with Croc so that he could fend off any snakes or scorpions the cloaked man sent after me. Perhaps I’d asked too many questions …
After nightfall Croc perked up, staring at the doorway as if he saw something. Standing, he stretched and sauntered over.
A voice whispered from inside my room.
Journal Translation
A SNAP BROKE THE SILENCE. Faint green light illuminated the magician’s deeply lined face, the remainder of his body appearing before my eyes.
Springing out of bed, I stumbled away from the figure and clung to the wall in fear.
“Listen carefully,” the son of Hapu whispered, his hands shaking. The white cat jumped down from his shoulder, waddled over, and sniffed Croc.
“They’ll see your light—”
“Be silent!” he said, waving his arms wildly. “People can’t see what is covered in darkness. I know what you’ve gone through, and I’ve seen your life if you stay. Leave this place … forever.”
“What?” I asked, stunned.
“I just spoke with the doctor,” he whispered. “He may not remember our conversation … but he mentioned something strange.” Leaning closer, the magician stared through my eyes, looking directly into my soul. “I want to know about this spitting serpent.”
“I …” Apprehension made me hesitate. I did not want to admit I may have seen him commit murder. What would he do to silence me?
“Even if you saw it in a dream or possess the gift of magic.” His pale eyes scanned my face. “Tales across the great sea and from the vastness of Nubia mention serpents spitting venom. Their accuracy is superior to that of the skilled archer, and their saliva can render a man blind. Where did you see this?”
“Y-you should talk to Mutnedjmet.”
“People are dying!” Rubbing his shaven head, he spoke in a strained whisper as he glanced out the doorway. “Bodies pile up in the slums. This is not concerning for the palace, but people are so terrified they whisper about the end of time for man. Egypt quakes in utter fear—fear this is the will of God.”
“I saw a snake spit poison!” I said. “At Mutnedjmet!”
“A cobra slithered inside the palace walls last night?” he asked, lifting a shaven eyebrow.
“And scorpions! A pack of dark-reddish ones with huge tails and stingers.”
“The Fattail? They have been driven to near extinction in the area, but their sting can be deadly.” The crevasses on his forehead deepened. “You know more than you’re telling me.”
Dropping to my knees, I begged, “I’d be put to death for blasphemy. The loss of my soul would be more certain than being burned for a plague I do not carry!”
“They’re hunting me as well!” His gray eyes twitched, perhaps with fear.
“Who?” I asked.
“There’s no time for questions, boy, only answers. I cannot stay or I’ll be caught. Something’s amiss in the kingdom of the living and the dead. A plague is descending out of the west, a plague of shadows. Shap
es roll in on the winds. I was unaware. A great power is boiling over, and has masked its coming.”
My lips parted in confusion, but no words came out.
“If beasts wander the streets of Memphis under the cover of night, they’d still be incapable of pure evil. Wicked deeds originate in the thoughts of man. Whispers of a ravaging black death and a deluge of the Nile drift across the land. Those stricken possess rare abilities. If we lose those who command powers of the unseen, the art of magic will be forever lost. I’ve tried to contact the others, but I am hearing and seeing only muttering and fog. Some have spoken of atrocities and were sent to warn the people. I cannot locate their kas or bas. They’ve vanished. The royal family has spread word throughout Egypt that the Aten is displeased. Our civilization will be erased if we do not accept his teachings and communion with his one god. The time of Akhen-Aten,” he uttered the name slowly, “is emerging. I fear it’s not in the people’s interest. And …” He wrung his withered hands.
“What?” I cried in anticipation, nearly squishing Croc, who released a pitiful squeak.
Mudads peeked inside. After a brief inspection, he turned back to the hallway as if he hadn’t seen the magician.
“Quiet!” The son of Hapu held a gnarled finger to his lips. “There’re those hidden in this palace who can sense my presence. The soldiers cannot see, but if they grow suspicious and a conjurer arrives, I’d be doomed.” He shook his head. “Pharaoh is going to die.”
“Akhenaten?” I asked, my face popping with excitement.
“Amenhotep III will soon pass beyond the realm of the living. His ba will be forbidden to visit this world. It is already cloaked in twilight.”
My thoughts swirled in confusion.
“I’ve risked much for a lonely poor sap of a child. Your hopes of Mutnedjmet convincing her family of Akhenaten’s treachery will not succeed. She is either on his side, or they cannot hear her. Do you understand?”
“I want to save Nefer—”
Throwing his hands into the air, he spun around. “Akhenaten will be pharaoh! Alone! There’ll be no one to tell of his murders or conspiracies.” His voice fell to a whisper again. “Leave with me this night. You must run as far away as you can. I cannot foresee what such a path will hold, but it doesn’t include serving your father’s murderer—the road your current life travels down. Such a fate is the most miserable existence any man could be dealt. I won’t stand for it. And if my peers believe otherwise, may they halt your journey before your feet leave Egyptian soil.” Croc brushed around his bony ankles. He grinned. “You must bring your companion with you! He is something I’ve only read about. You’ll need him no matter what journey you take.”
“Why are you helping me?” I asked, folding my arms in suspicion. “Do I carry the powers you speak of? Am I destined to do something?”
“Destinies turn to dust,” he said, shaking his head. “If anyone was destined, it was Thutmose. Now he’s dead. You are special because you know Akhenaten better than anyone. There is only one of a certain type of my kind still in existence. Either way, he’ll find you and ask you to reveal what you know.” The magician stepped back, closed his eyes, and faded into green mist and a flurry of brown moths.
Leaping back, I hit the wall again. This couldn’t be!
The faint light and winged insects wisped through the open window. Following, the magician’s fat cat struggled to claw its way up to the exit. I shoved its butt up and out the opening. The son of Hapu’s voice rang inside my head, “You harbor feelings for Nefertiti, but do not let emotions ensnare you, boy! Now, get out! They’re coming …”
After scooping up Croc, I paused, conflicted. I didn’t want to serve Akhenaten, but I couldn’t allow Father’s murderer to thrive and Nefertiti, the love of my life, to be tormented forever. But I also couldn’t drive a knife into Akhenaten’s back and hope he’d die. He’d already arisen from death. I should run. No. Even if my weak body and fate wouldn’t grant me the life I desired, I needed to be part of Nefertiti’s. Was that what all naïve boys believe when love strikes them with its sharpest arrow?
The magician manipulated the night beyond my window to the deepest shade of black, so the guards stationed outside couldn’t witness my escape. Footsteps echoed outside my room.
Journal Translation
MY HEAD NEVER EMERGED from the window. Collapsing, I wept. I couldn’t leave Nefertiti to Akhenaten, even if it meant serving the demon Pharaoh. Lying twisted upon the floor for the duration of the night, I contemplated running away, suicide, and worst of all, facing my horrors. Croc’s presence saved me from madness.
The morning came too early and my head throbbed. “We sail this day,” Mahu said as he peeked into my room, his tone apprehensive. “Pharaoh has fulfilled his governing duties in Memphis for now. He and Akhenaten issued orders for the royal family and its subjects to finally return to Thebes—our home and the capital of Upper Egypt. And you’re no longer to be isolated!” He held his hands up as if I should be elated. “But you look like you’ve been crawling through the dirt. Go and bathe, pack, and be ready to disembark by midday.”
I nodded, drained and emotionless.
Mahu left. After glancing into the hall, I inched along toward the baths. Flat footfalls followed. Mudads nodded his capped head as if to let me know he’d always be watching.
Servants eyed me with suspicion, keeping their distance. None spoke to me. I washed my stubbly hair—now without a sidelock—shaved my body, and anointed myself with refreshing oil. Dressing in a clean kilt, my exterior appeared reinvigorated, but my soul remained drawn.
After gathering Croc, my blanket, and the amulet of the scarab, I followed the mass exodus and cloud of dust toward the Nile. I’d have to keep Croc hidden so that Suty wouldn’t kill him. But with all the recent events, it seemed likely my master may have forgotten about Croc’s savage attack. And I couldn’t leave him in Memphis.
Arriving at the banks of the river, Amenhotep III and Akhenaten—sitting upon thrones borne by servants—were carried aboard the royal yacht. The outer hull of the vessel gleamed gold, its immensity making the men onboard appear small, like stones on a mountain. Oars broke water and the jeweled helm led the voyage, a fleet of barges trailing behind.
Time seemed imperceptible as I suffocated in a fog of hate and despair. Life was fantastically unfair. Only the strong succeed—the meek would always be enslaved and serve them.
Serving Akhenaten, many days burned themselves out before a straight artery stood out against the beautiful curves of the Nile. We diverted into the west bank where a rectangular lake rested before the Gleaming Palace of the Aten.
A passing cloud shadowed the burning walls of light, revealing their copper surface. My lips parted with awe. Celebrating God’s rays in such fashion was ingenious. Perhaps if I helped create a comparable spectacle or monument I could be forgiven.
“We’re home,” a servant said to another, rubbing his red eye shadow as we disembarked—
Twin sphinx glared at me from beside the gates. Terror pounded in my chest, suffocating me. Three times the size of a man, the stone lions reared into the sky, their manes permanently billowing in the wind. Who could ever control such beasts, as I’d once heard? Scampering beyond the guardians, an enormous palace crawled across the desert as its multiple stories reached toward the Aten. Tattered flags waved in the wind, scattering light with their emblazoned metals.
After marching through a columned hall, pools of water sparkled under an open roof and lit the room ahead. Brilliant images of great deeds, nature, and beasts loomed on the walls around me. The throne of Egypt sat at the far end, its golden presence towering over us. Twin sphinx armrests trampled enemies. I paused in wonder—
Someone yelled. I spun as a ceramic ankh fell from a servant’s load, as if in slow motion. The most ancient of symbols smashed into the bright blue tile, releasing a wave of energy. A thousand pieces skittered across the floor as the air shook. Holding my breath, I glanced ab
out. To break the symbol of life and dominion was a bad omen.
Akhenaten strode into the room from a back chamber and nodded. Suty towered over the cowering servant as he apologized and scooped up fragments. With one swing of his sword, the ogre lopped the servant’s arm clean off at the shoulder. The ping of metal on bone rang in my ears, followed by a hollow thud. Screaming, the servant collapsed as bright blood pulsated from his gaping wound.
“Clean up and get ’im out,” Suty said, wiping his red blade on the victim’s white kilt. “Hang ’im on the walls and let the Aten scorch ’im for his crime.”
Shoving a bucket of water into my chest, the servant with the red eye paint smirked. I sopped the splatter of red from the blue tiles, but the more water I used the more the blood diluted and spread into larger and larger circles. My stomach rolled with nausea.
Visions of the emotionless act haunted my dreams that night.
Waking me early with a prodding foot, my new roommate said, “We have to serve breakfast in the throne room.” He applied red eye shadow, studying his gaunt features in a bronze mirror.
My throat cramped with nervousness—the competition was sleeping in the same room. I didn’t care if he surpassed my abilities at serving Akhenaten, but if I fell behind, I may never see Nefertiti again.
“Did they tell us anymore about Pharaoh’s upcoming celebration?” I asked, looking down in shame. “I wasn’t attentive during the voyage … not feeling well.”
“We’ll be working non-stop. His sed-festival will be enormous and needs to happen quickly.” Licking thin lips, he placed his hands on his hips. “It will rejuvenate Pharaoh.”
“Didn’t Amenhotep mention visiting Thebes first? The real city on the eastern bank?”
Shrugging, he turned his head side to side for the mirror and walked into the hall. “Akhenaten is hesitant to do so.”
I followed. Why was this celebration being rushed? Did Pharaoh or the people wish to delay Akhenaten’s rule? But if Akhenaten was running things, the event must benefit him as well.
Eve of the Pharaoh: Historical Adventure and Mystery Page 23
