The Kingdom of Nefertiti (The Desert Queen Book 3)
Page 9
My memories came at me in a tangled ball, and the unhappy ones always arose together like an unwelcome group of friends. With those memories came the emotions in a dark mass of ugliness—ugliness all of my own making. My captor Margg slept beside me, and I sighed at the sound of her snoring. It was difficult enough falling asleep without the older woman’s night sounds ringing in my ears. Sleeping with someone did not bother me. I had spent most of my nights with my sister. She did not snore but often talked in her sleep. I suddenly wished I could reach out to her and touch her hair or skin. How that used to comfort me, and I longed for comfort before I fell asleep again and slipped into another nightmare.
Sometimes in my dreams the Kiffians came with their pawing hands and biting mouths and…other things to violate me. I would awaken in smothered screams with Margg leaning over me, seemingly immune to the power of my blows. She never struck me back but chided me, I assumed in her own language. Margg’s lack of teeth did not help me discern what she was saying. I soon gave up, and so did she. Now we communicated mostly with looks and gestures, but she never failed to wake me from the nightmares. For that I was grateful.
In the past few weeks, or at least I thought it had been that long, I had seen more faces than Margg’s. A bevy of priestesses questioned me daily about my home, where I was from and what I knew about their goddess. Their endless questions tired me, and I felt no obligation to answer them, not at first.
“We know you can see in the fire and water,” they would say to me. “Tell us what you see. Can you see our Pharaoh?” I refused to look in the flames or lean over the pools at first, but my hunger and thirst got the better of me. Sometimes it was easy to go without food, but there were times when my body screamed louder than my mind. They knew. The priestesses knew I could not hold out forever. So they watched and waited. Daily I demanded that they release me and allow me to go home, but daily they did not. A pot of tea was always by my bedside when I woke for the morning ministrations. One day Margg mumbled at me, trying to compel me to drink. I would not. Believing that I refused because I feared poison, she poured herself a cup, drank it, called me “stupid” (I think) and then walked out. After that I drank the tea without fear, but sometimes I took only a sip or two. Farrah had taught me that sometimes poisons worked slowly, so slowly that you did not know they were working at all. I sipped and waited for death. It never came.
Instead, something else happened. Margg’s occasional attempts at language seemed easier to understand. Other things I did not expect began to manifest. Each morning after a dose of the tea I would feel more peaceful than ever before, and I had a greater awareness of my own soul. As awareness rose within me, the burning fires of ambition diminished. I had nothing to prove, and for the first time in a long time I felt fear ebb and release its cruel grip on my heart. During the trials, I would have said I feared nothing, but now I knew that was not true. I feared everything.
Nakmaa, the priestess—the high priestess, as near as I could tell—helped me discern the layers of fear within me. She told me that by doing so I would be free. Free to live without fear. I quickly identified the fear of being bested by my sister; the fear of losing. I also feared the madness that had claimed my mother and caused her to lie down in the sand and leave me behind.
The drink was such an effective medicine that I began to ask for it, and the priestesses happily gave it to me. Of course, their ministrations came with a price, and they were still tight-lipped about how I came to be in the Green Temple. They either did not know or did not think it necessary for me to know. I suspected it was the former. We were in our own world inside the temple. It was like being in a harem, I supposed, without the hope of seeing the man you loved. Some priestesses did entertain guests, male guests, but the men were carefully kept out of sight. I stopped asking about the guests and how I managed to find my way here. Despite my mind renewal, I had no recollection of those events, but I figured eventually it would come. I began to feel more confident that I would remember.
When the priestesses were satisfied that I knew nothing that would help them politically, they took advantage of my other gifts. “Look! Look in the fire, bright-eyed sister. Tell us what you see.” I would drink, stare into the flames and pass on what I saw. Much of those visions seemed nothing but nonsense, but the priestesses all seemed impressed.
In one vision I saw a cow standing by a great pool. The animal’s udders were so full that the cow tipped over from the weight and many of the fish from the nearby waters came to drink from the teats. I giggled at the sight of the brightly colored fish pulling on the cow, but the women hung on my every word. After spending many hours in front of the brazier, they would send me away. I could hear them chattering to one another as I walked down the long, empty hallway. Truthfully it was less a hallway and more a courtyard. Located in the center of the temple, it was the most impressive feature of the building and reminded me of the Timia Oasis. The columns rose like massive palm trees high into the sky above, each one decorated with ornate patterns and colorful pictures that I assumed declared the might of the temple’s deity, Isis. There was a row of statues said to be her many faces, but I had given up believing in deities. I, who had been the most faithful of my family, had been betrayed by them.
I sighed on my bed and licked my dry lips. My face and arms were still hot from the flames over which I had hovered for hours earlier, and my eyes felt as if someone had poured great measures of sand into them. Though I was tired beyond belief, peaceful sleep felt like an impossibility.
Instead, I quietly rose from the room I shared with Margg and wandered by the Pool of Isis, hoping that nobody would be there. I went to bed earlier than most, but that had been an hour ago. Many times the pools were empty, except for a few old women who believed the waters washed away their aches and pains. They would strip off their clothing, uncaring that their bodies were wrinkled and flabby. They would slip carefully into the warm waters and swim about as if they were girls. I longed to swim with them, but that would mean I must speak to them. I chose the quieter route, pretending I did not see them even when they greeted me kindly.
At the end of the largest pool was a narrow sandy walkway that led to a series of smaller pools and finally a well. I rarely saw anyone come this far. The Green Temple was actually a massive complex, the main temple being the most popular building. There were other buildings to which I had not gained entrance. Perhaps I did not want to know what occurred behind those closed doors.
I first found this place on one of my many forays to find a way out of the temple grounds. The walls of the Green Temple were higher than any I had seen, even higher than Zerzura’s, and they often cast long shadows on the walkways and courtyards. A pair of guards stood at each of the three gates. They wore red tunics and had plumes of purple feathers on their helmets. I assumed the men were eunuchs, as they did not look my way (or any woman’s way as far as I could tell).
As I walked past the first three pools, I nodded to one young acolyte who lingered mournfully by the water. She had unusually big eyes that were constantly red from crying. I had seen her many times before. I felt sympathy for her but did not approach her or befriend her. There was no escaping this place, and it was better for her to realize that now. If you were here, you would stay here for all the days of your life. She stared at me as if entreating me to linger and talk, but I did not. I dared not. I had conquered my fears, hadn’t I? She must conquer hers.
Leaving her sad countenance behind, I came to the smallest of the pools. The water was still and cooler than the large pools. It was fed by an underground spring that kept it fresh and sweet. Heavy ferns grew around it, and the buzz of a few mosquitoes played annoying music in my ear. I sat beside the water and scooped it up in my hands, splashing it on my face and neck. After a few minutes, I felt refreshed and let my toes dangle in the water as I leaned back on my hands. The stars were appearing now. I knew them by heart, as I had known them since childhood, but they did not comfort me as they o
nce did.
I suddenly longed for Alexio. He would not know where to find me. “The world is a large place with endless spots for hiding,” he told me when we were small. How I wished then to be a boy, able to leave my family behind to see the world! Once I almost convinced him to take me with him, to dress me as a boy and stuff me in his caravan so that I too could see the land of the jinn in Petra. He would laugh indulgently and pretend that he would do so, but he never did.
Over time, I did not wish to be a boy anymore. I was glad I was a girl because Alexio began to notice me in new and exciting ways. He noticed my dark eyelashes and the playful tip of my nose, the curve of my face. He did not tell me, but a woman knows these things, even a young one. I was even gladder when he began to play with my hair, brush his hands against mine; smile at me in the way a man would smile at a woman he loved. He toyed with me—I knew it even as a girl—but how thrilling it had been when he kissed me! For him, it had been meaningless, but for me, it had been everything. I loved him, utterly and completely. Until I knew that to him, I was only a means to an end—a way to get to my sister. And then other feelings began to rise to the surface…
I cast a handful of silky white petals into the pool and watched them slowly sink out of sight. A strange bird and other animals made night noises, but I was not afraid of them. This was not the desert. I knew nothing could harm me here.
Except those that lingered outside, hovering between this world and the next.
So far, the spirits had not crossed the temple threshold. But if I stepped outside, I could only imagine what they would do to me. Who said the dead couldn’t harm the living? I saw many things in the fire and in the water. Sometimes Farrah’s face passed before mine, her eyes full of hatred, her white hair bloody and her skin black. Other times it was Paimu’s grasping hands and silent scream that demanded justice. Of the two, it was her murder that I most regretted, for it had been done in my madness. My jealousy had killed her as much as my blade had. Farrah’s death was different. She had brought my blood to a boil, not because of her accusations but because she dared accuse me when she herself had done murder. And I knew the truth. She had allowed my mother to die. She did that! I saw it in the fire! She sat back and watched and did not lift a finger to help her. She thought no one would ever know. She was wrong.
Paimu, though…she was another story. She did not deserve what happened to her. The truth was I was a woman possessed that night. Enraged that Alexio had rejected me once again. Enraged that I must lie with Yuni…I hated the man. Enraged that my uncle came to me once again, reminding me of our secret. Driving the knife into her was like killing myself, only it wasn’t me who died. I buried her when it was over, and for a little while, she remained hidden. Until she came back.
I shivered in the moonlight and sat still. I could hear someone walking toward me. The crunching of fallen flowers sent the shivers running down my spine. Could my thoughts have summoned the girl here? I didn’t know whether to stand up or try to hide. I decided to do neither. I might as well face whatever justice was coming for me. What would it matter if someone found me dead by a pool? Nobody cared. Nobody who mattered. Most here thought I was mad anyway.
“Hafa-nu, queen’s sister,” said the small figure who had paused on the path. As the clouds above shifted, the moonlight fell on us and I could see her more clearly. It was not Paimu.
The woman before me was small. She wore a simple white gown, but everything else about her declared she was someone of importance, including her twin snake bracelets that wrapped around her arms. They reminded me of my father’s. I wondered sometimes if he missed me. My visitor had intelligent dark eyes, and I could see that her heart was heavy. She reminded me of someone, but I could not place her. I stood, but only to show her I was much taller than she. “I am the Great Wife of the Pharaoh Amenhotep, although he is now in the Eternal City.”
“How is it you greet me so? Do you know the words you speak, or do you just say them because you have heard others speak them?”
“The desert is in my blood. I was born to the Algat, although I claim no mother but Isis now. I remember the Old Ways and the Old Words.”
“I have seen your face in the water. They killed your son, didn’t they? Left him lying in the paws of the Sphinx, a bloody tribute to their god. Is it justice you seek?”
My question clearly surprised her, and she stumbled toward me. Her dark eyes grew wide as she moved closer to see my face. “So it is true. You do see!”
I did not feel compelled to prove that I could see anything at all, but it appeared that the priestesses had been talking. I said nothing.
“I could command you to look, for it is in my power to do so. Any priestess here would be glad to serve me, and many do. There are things I need to know, and you have the ability to tell me. Are you willing to help me or not?”
If she wanted me to rebel, to bristle at her importance, I did not give her that satisfaction. Death did not frighten me, only the half-dead. Those who lingered. If she killed me, I would be dead and free from seeing them waiting for me. Perhaps I deserved to die. No, there was no guessing. I did deserve it. I wanted to ask, Why don’t these many priestesses help you, then? But I did not. “Help you how, Queen Tiye? Whatever you might think, I cannot command what I see. I just see. Seeing the past or the future is not for any of us to command, I think.”
With a great sigh of weariness she waved her hand and said, “I did not mean to offend you. It is just my way. People like wasting my time, and I am not a woman who tolerates fools. But I see you aren’t either.”
“My name is Pah. I am the sister of Nefret, the one you call Nefertiti. I do see in the fire and the water. And I have seen you before, in the flames. The goddess here shows me your face often. She watches you, I think.”
The older woman’s face softened. I could see that my answer pleased her, but it did not matter to me one way or the other. Without waiting for an invitation she sat beside the pool and patted the ground, bidding me to do the same. It did not take a seer to know that she cared nothing about me; the queen only wanted to know what I saw about her and her family.
I sat back down, determined to feel unimpressed by my unexpected guest. No one had visited me before. Not even Nefret. I put my feet back in the water, enjoying the sensation of the fish nibbling at my toes. Somewhere behind me I thought I heard a strange sound, as if someone were scratching on metal. I was not certain if this was real or something else, so I said nothing about it.
“What about the water? Do you ever see my face there?” Her voice sounded whispery and young. Much younger than she was, for I guessed she was as old as Farrah was when she died. I wondered if the queen knew I had killed the Old One. But how could she?
“Only in the flames. I see you only in the flames.” I let the weight of my words fall on her. If she knew anything about such things, she would know what that meant. If she did not, who was I to burden her with such knowledge?
“Are you happy here?”
I kept my eyes averted and my voice even. Over the years I had taught myself to hide my true feelings; this talent came in handy now, for I did not trust the tiny queen. How could I believe that the Great Queen of Egypt did not know about my plight? I banished Alexio’s face from my mind and tried not to allow the desperation and longing for him to rise up and betray me. It would not do for a priestess of the Green Temple to have a husband. That information might put me in danger.
I moved my feet in the water to confuse the fish, and they scattered for a moment. “It is safe here, and I am not mistreated.”
“Do you want to stay here and serve Isis? You have no memory of how you got here?” Again I heard the sound—not scraping, but scratching, coming from the other side of the wall. I tried not to stare over her shoulder, but I did quickly look just in case it was Paimu. There was no one there, but I could not see too well in the dark.
Maybe she was there. Waiting. I shivered as if somewhere someone had cursed me.
/> “No, I cannot remember,” I told her honestly. “I never knew of this place until I woke up here.”
“I see.”
“I am not important enough to receive a visit from a queen. Why have you come?”
Her eyes widened at my directness. She had lovely eyes. Her other features were plain, but her eyes were like the dark eyes of a bird, ever attentive yet untrusting. As if everyone she met had a net in their hands and was ready to capture and consume her. Perhaps they were.
Poor Queen Tiye.
“I am told that there is no one greater at seeing than you. Nakmaa reports that you have extraordinary natural skills and can see great details in your visions. You have been very helpful to the priestesses here, but now I need something from you. I have many enemies, and my enemies are also your sister’s enemies. Even if you do not care about me, I am sure you want to help her.”
“My sister and I have different destinies.” I said, giving her a sharp look. How surprising! I thought I had shed my old resentments toward Nefret. Perhaps a germ of hatred still remained. A subtle wind shifted in the garden, and the palm leaves clicked as they slapped into one another, confused by the change in the air.
“I do not speak of destinies but of loyalty and sisterhood.”
“I see.”
“Do you hate your sister?” she asked. “Do you believe she brought you here?”
Once I would have immediately answered, “Yes!” but that was before I murdered her treasure. Before I stole the queenship of our tribe from her. Before I betrayed her, first with Alexio and then with Farrah.
“Do you have sisters, Queen Tiye? Have you never hated them?”
“I cannot remember their faces, but no, I never hated them.”
Lying to herself. She hates everyone except for the son she lost.
Anxious to talk of something else and ready to be rid of her, I said, “Very well. I will help you. Let us look together. You are here, and the water is here. Let us try.” I swept my hand across the surface, making ripples. I had never seen her in the water before, but it was worth a look. The idea of leaning over the hot flames for another moment made me sick to my stomach. The moon rose high above us now, and I could see its light bouncing back in the water. I smelled the white flowers, the kind that appeared only at night. Wide blooms waved around us, and thankfully the mosquitoes had found somewhere else to congregate.