The Kingdom of Nefertiti (The Desert Queen Book 3)

by M. L. Bullock

  “I must go now. The goddess calls me. Do not forget my promise.”

  “I will come to see you again soon. Remember what I told you.” I smiled at her, thankful for this happy moment. These had been too few. She smiled back, but her expression quickly changed. A frown crept upon her brow, and her lips pursed in serious thought.

  “Sister! You have more than one enemy. Trust no one.”

  Before I could inquire of her further, Pah took the hand of the priestess beside her, and together the two disappeared down the corridor. I stood staring after her, wondering about her words, but I did not have too much time to linger in the Green Temple. My court—Amenhotep’s court—waited for my attention. Menmet shuffled her feet impatiently, and I went to her. We rode back to the Palace in silence. I was thankful that she did not ply me with questions, for I knew she was curious. Menmet was always curious. Queen Tiye’s recent warnings rang in my ears: She is Heby’s daughter and a spy. Do not be a fool, Nefertiti!

  I focused on my next task, administering justice in Thebes. I had to focus on the people who came before me. I remembered Amenhotep’s admonition. “Make the people love you, my queen. Let them see you as a good queen. Win their hearts!”

  Oh, Amenhotep! When will you come home to me?

  As I prepared for attendance at court, I was delighted to see a stack of new gifts waiting for me in my chambers. Amenhotep and I had had barely any correspondence in the past few weeks, but he had faithfully sent me gift after gift. Each one I was sure had some special meaning that he wished to convey to me. I spent many a night pondering them, touching them. Menmet clapped her hands joyfully at the sight. I loved her enthusiasm. She celebrated when I celebrated, cried when I cried. Wasn’t that the definition of a friend? A sister? She handed me a box from the top of the stack. It was wrapped in blue cloth and had an exquisite silver ribbon tying it together. I pulled the ribbon and released the lid from the top. Inside was an elegant golden brooch in the shape of the sun with a crown that rested on the top. I reached out to pick it up, but Menmet stopped me.

  “My queen! Do not touch that!” She swatted at my hands as if I were a child.

  “What is the matter with you?” I shouted. If the Great Queen Tiye had seen her do such a thing, she would have put her in irons. I could not blame her. If she was too familiar, it was my own fault.

  “That is the crowned sun! A Hittite symbol. This must be from Tadukhipa, not Amenhotep. Knowing her, the thing is dipped in poison or covered in curses. At the very least she is trying to send you a message.”

  “Perhaps,” I said absently as I examined the item without touching it. I knew what the message was, but I did not share my observations. Pah had warned me that I had more than one enemy. I did not want to believe it could be Menmet, but as I had learned of late, anything was possible in Egypt’s courts.

  I called Harwa to me for answers. “Who brought these gifts in here? Where did this one come from?”

  The old eunuch examined the stack of boxes and crates and said, “All these came from our Pharaoh. But this one, I do not know. It was not here before, my queen.”

  “That means someone brought it here without anyone’s notice?”

  Harwa frowned at the thought and began to call together those who had been nearby to see what they had observed. I did not wait for the results of his investigation.

  I stared at the brooch as I chewed on my lip. We had heard quite a bit lately about Tadukhipa’s growing power. People whispered that her sun rose as mine faded. I had even heard she was pregnant and that Amenhotep had made his final decision. He would make Tadukhipa the Great Queen at last, they said. Even my court had become emptier during his absence. Each day it was the same. In the mornings I took reports from our kenbet, a class of leaders who led specific districts on our behalf. These were mostly men from the noble class, but there were also common men amongst this esteemed group. I listened as patiently as I could to their concerns about slaves, water and grain. Sometimes I offered advice, but most of the time I simply listened as the scribes wrote down the complaints. In the afternoons, I heard cases selected from the domestic courts by my advisers. This was not typical behavior for a queen or any royal, but I had taken Amenhotep’s instructions seriously.

  “Let the people see that you love them! Lead them, Nefertiti.”

  What if none of that mattered now? What if Amenhotep had truly made his decision? According to whispers, I should go ahead and pack my belongings now and move into the Royal Harem. But I refused to leave the palace.

  “Harwa, listen to me. Do not worry with that now. If it is indeed a gift from my sister, Queen Tadukhipa, I must wear it. Although I do not think anyone wears brooches at the moment. They have gone out of fashion, I am afraid. Take this brooch and have it hammered into a crown. Leave its shape—I want her to be able to recognize it when she sees me so she knows how much I appreciate her gift. I want it ready for her return, to demonstrate my gratitude.”

  Harwa grinned, showing his even smile. He had the perfect teeth of a child and pleasant brown eyes. I instantly trusted him when I met him, but I was also glad that he was on my side. He could be as devious as Queen Tiye and her steward, Huya. Nobody outsmarted those two. “Should we add your falcon crest to the center spire?”

  “Harwa, you read my mind.”

  Amenhotep had invited me here, and here I planned to stay.

  Chapter Ten

  Nefertiti—The Visitors

  The official court was located at the front of the palace. I had to walk downstairs and down the length of the main corridor to access it. As I made the trip I remembered to keep my face a serene mask, just as Tiye taught me. Her tutelage had been invaluable these past few weeks. Although she was impatient with me and sometimes unkind, she had a shrewdness that I envied. She saw problems long before I did, and during those first days in the court she had helped me navigate the formalities without failure. Today I entered the court without her and heard the hush fall upon the waiting crowd. I walked steadily up the back of the dais and stood before the throne.

  Trusted members of my court brought me a few cases each day, and lately I began noticing a pattern. More and more of these cases involved children and the priests of Amun. What they were doing was wrong—taking them from their parents, sacrificing them, burning them—and I secretly vowed to stop their horrific rituals and practices. Menmet had been my partner in this.

  The throne attendants lifted my heavy robes; I glanced over to see that scribes were waiting with ink and papyrus, ready to make my words the law of the land. I took my seat upon my husband’s throne, and the people rose from their bowed positions in expectation. Even after all these weeks, almost months, it was still a humbling sight to me. I refused to take the privilege for granted. The gold fabric draped over the back and across the dais smoothly under the experienced hands of the attendants. I held the heavy brass crook and flail in my hands; the weight seemed easier to manage now. At least, I thought, the regular courtiers appeared less shocked when I sat in Amenhotep’s place. I hoped that the news of my work here had reached his ears.

  “The people need to see you as Queen of Upper and Lower Egypt. Lead them, my wife.”

  His confidence in me gave me strength, but it did little to put my heart at ease. He was, after all, in the arms of Queen Tadukhipa even now. I had hotly contested this arrangement, but after a visit from the Hittite-Mitanni king, I could hardly stand in my husband’s way. If we wanted peace with the Hittites, Amenhotep would have to honor the marriage put in place by his father.

  How strange these Egyptians were! Sons inheriting wives, concubines and harems. It was a strange thing indeed, but my husband assured me his heart remained with me. Like so many things in my life, this matter was out of my control. I would make the best of it. And as Tiye often reminded me, the true prize had not yet been won. My rule these many weeks was very likely a test, Tiye whispered to me during our evening meal last night.

  Another test in a life of
testing.

  I thought about her other words, warnings to me. “Do not trust her. Even at this distance. She has her monsters here. There is one of them.” She had pointed at Menmet, who was busy preparing a tray of fresh fruit for us.

  I had not argued with her, for it would have done no good. Of course, Queen Tiye refused to eat anything taken from Menmet’s hand. Menmet noticed the slight, I could see, but she kept her place.

  Queen Tiye hated Tadukhipa beyond reason, almost as much as she hated the priests of Amun. In truth, she seemed to have little love for anyone except her dead husband and her son Thutmose and, of course, Pharaoh Amenhotep. Poor Sitamen was ever lost in the shadows.

  Menmet informed me that more royal visitors had come to the Theban court that morning, ready to pay homage to Pharaoh and Queen Nefertiti. I sat up stiffly as Harwa bowed toward me. With a clap of his hands, the outer doors opened and I blinked against the sunlight that poured in through the throne room. My wig itched and my stomach rumbled, but I kept my face like stone as the small contingent approached me.

  From the moment he stepped into the inner court I recognized him. Alexio! With shaggy dark hair that hung about his shoulders, he wore a clean blue tunic, leather leggings and sandals. Beside Alexio were a few others: Biel, the young man I had met at Zerzura, had now grown even taller, and I could see that Horemheb had returned to Egypt. I anxiously awaited his report from home.

  I felt the eyes of the court upon me, and I forced myself to breathe normally as the group approached. I wondered if any of them knew who this man was who came before my throne. Who he used to be to me? My husband. Alexio had not changed—he looked a little older, a little unhappier. He showed no excitement at seeing me, nor did I expect any. I had betrayed him at the highest level. I had taken an oath under the stars, swearing to love him with my mind, body and soul always and call him mine forever. Then I sent him away in a moment of anger. I did not deserve him.

  I listened respectfully as Harwa announced the leaders of the Meshwesh. “Horemheb, friend of Egypt, brings gifts of turquoise to Pharaoh and his queen, Nefertiti. May he present them?” I nodded my permission, careful to keep my movements smooth and easy so as not to disturb the scented wig and crown that rested uneasily on my head.

  Horemheb stepped forward stiffly. I could see that age was beginning to take its toll on him. I wondered about my father, but I would question my uncle later. For now I focused on the formalities. He knelt on one knee as he held open a round cedar chest full of bits of turquoise jewelry. It was not a fine prize—Horemheb knew that it was not so fine as the gifts the Hittites and Cushites offered—but I knew it was the tribe’s best. The Meshwesh were not a stingy people. I thanked them for their kind gifts to Pharaoh.

  “Welcome, my father’s people,” I said warmly. There could be only one reason why they were here—to see their mekhma and, if possible, bring her home. Sadly, I understood that although I was the mekhma who had saved them, brought them back to Zerzura, raised them to a seat of respect in Egypt, I was not the one they came to rescue.

  I would never be rescued. My fate was sealed. I was no longer a Desert Queen but the Queen of all Egypt.

  “It would please me greatly if you would dine with me this evening. I would like very much to hear the latest news from the White City.”

  “Thank you, Queen Nefertiti. You do us great honor.” Before they could say anything else I gave a long nod of dismissal. Alexio lingered, likely ready to make his feelings known, but Horemheb led him away by his elbow. Harwa watched with some concern. I had promised him that I would dine with the Greeks this evening, and perhaps I would. It was not unheard of to host two banquets at one time. But as Tiye told me, I need not explain myself to the servants. Neither the high ones nor the low ones. “And they are all your servants,” she added with authority.

  After the whispers settled, we welcomed the next assembly as they approached my throne. There would be no reports today, thankfully. No endless complaints from leaders. Receiving guests to court was much easier, or so I first believed. I quickly learned that each nation had its own greetings and expectations. Harwa sometimes spent hours preparing me for the occasion. “Do not stare at his eye patch,” he told me when Cervantes came to court. Another time he instructed me, “Speak to the women first. They take great offense if they are not recognized, and they are the true power in Persia. Also do not mention any other nations when speaking to them. We are in negotiations for access to some of their harbors this winter. They are very jealous for Egypt’s attention.”

  Tiye had been correct. Harwa had become invaluable to me. He knew everyone and everything. What he did not know, Menmet knew. I felt much more confident than I had just a few weeks ago having them by my side. I watched respectfully as an assembly of Greeks walked toward me. I felt a great curiosity about these people, as they were my relatives. The Egyptians had great love for them, but I had seen only a few Grecians during my years in the Red Lands. I had my mother’s red hair, but most of my mother’s people had blond or light brown hair with bronze skin and light-colored eyes, all features that Egyptians regarded as unusual and attractive. The approaching assembly paused at a respectful distance and waited for Harwa to recognize them.

  “Queen Nefertiti, may I present to you Ianos, Kallias and Sophos, ambassadors from King Orestes. I think they have gifts for you, lady queen.” I studied them as they approached. They were attractive, but most ambassadors were since they were supposedly representative of their monarchs. Each was tall, much taller than I, but not as tall as Amenhotep. They wore short-sleeved tunics that were cinched at the waist with beautifully worked leather belts. As was the tradition for court, they did not carry weapons, but I could see an empty scabbard on the hip of the man in the middle. He seemed the most striking to me. None wore beards, and they kept their hair short in the soldier’s fashion. They had muscular arms and legs, although Ianos, who appeared to be the oldest, had skinny legs like my uncle.

  “They are welcome here, Harwa. Welcome to the court of Amenhotep, ambassadors. I am sure Pharaoh will be saddened to know that he missed your visit, but perhaps you will come again when he returns.”

  My answer pleased them, and they bowed graciously. One of them said to me, “Greetings, Queen Nefertiti. I am Kallias, the son of Alistair, the brother of Princess Kadeema. I am happy to finally meet you. It is a meeting that is long overdue, I think.”

  I could not help but flash a smile at the man. He had a handsome face, but unlike many handsome faces, he did not have a haughty look or way about him. Kallias wore no jewelry but had an elegant demeanor that proved his noble birth. “Yes, I agree. Welcome to Thebes, Kallias. Have you been here before?”

  “No, this is my first visit to Pharaoh’s city.”

  “Then perhaps you and the other ambassadors will join me for a tour of my husband’s gardens after I greet all my guests. I would like to hear about Grecia and Kadeema’s homeland.”

  Kallias appeared enormously pleased by my offer. “Nothing would give us more pleasure, Queen Nefertiti. We are at your service. We have a gift for you. May I present it?” I ignored Harwa’s questioning look and waved Kallias forward. He walked up the first three steps of the dais, until he heard the throne room guards come to attention. Stopping immediately, he knelt on the marble step and opened a small box that was no bigger than my hand. Inside was the largest, shiniest pearl I had ever seen, and I had seen many since my arrival in Thebes. It was strung on a thin golden chain.

  In a soft voice Kallias said, “This pearl comes from the harbor of Illeas, the home of Kadeema. It is a rare jewel. Our king sends the gift with his warmest greetings.”

  “I can see that it is remarkable,” I said with honest admiration. “May I touch it?”

  “It is yours, Queen Nefertiti.”

  I rose from my throne, ignoring the gasps of the people. It was a rare thing to see Pharaoh rise from his throne, except during special occasions. But then again I was not Pharaoh. I had forgott
en the rules, but I made no apologies to anyone. The gift moved me.

  I reached out and took the pearl in my hand. I slid it up and down the chain, examining the workmanship. “Rise, Kallias. Tell King Orestes that I gladly accept his gift and welcome his friendship. You are all welcome at court. Please remain as my esteemed guests.” He stepped down off the dais, and together the three of them bowed again. I heard a noise from the waiting gallery. Feeling a little irritated at the interruption, I kept my voice cool. “Ah, I see more guests have arrived. You may stay if you like.” They stepped to the side, and I clutched the pearl in my hand as I took my seat. At least a dozen dark-headed men wearing rich leather armor over brightly colored tunics had gathered. My guards were busy unburdening the visitors of their weapons. It was common knowledge that visitors to court did not bring their weapons with them, so I wondered at the meaning of this. Then they walked toward me, almost marching in time. They stomped across the floor in heavy boots; their long hair flowed behind them as they came toward me. Their fierce, narrow eyes never shifted from me, nor my own eyes from them.

  Hittites! Kinsmen of Tadukhipa, no doubt. Let us see how this goes.

  Before Harwa could scramble to the front of the dais, the men presented themselves to me. They held their heads high and appraised me unashamedly as they waited impatiently for the formalities to end. Harwa did not name all the Hittites, only one. His name was Tishratta, and I knew it was a name I would always remember.

  He was very dark but not black like the men from the south. His skin was almost a strange green color, then I realized it was painted; what wasn’t painted was covered with tattoos. I made myself focus on his face and not his painted arms. His black eyes were lined with kohl, which made them look even darker. His hair was so long that the top of it was pulled back from his face with a sturdy-looking leather thong. Like Tadukhipa, he had few smiles for the people around him; he likely assumed that everyone knew who he was, and he commanded their respect. As Harwa began to recite the many titles of King Tishratta, I stood for the second time today.