Magic of the Nile

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Magic of the Nile Page 19

by Veronica Scott


  “Good idea.” Sahure plucked the gleaming necklace from the tray where it sat waiting, emeralds glinting. He came to her and looped the collar around her neck, standing close behind her as he fastened the leather ties. “This adornment will impress them.”

  “Or infuriate them all over again.” She laughed, stepping away to pick up a light cloak. “I got the distinct impression the high priest wanted to rip this off my neck yesterday and hide it in his temple’s coffers.”

  Sahure took the cape and draped it over her shoulders. “How did your meeting with them go?”

  “I thought it was fine. Pharaoh was apparently pleased. The high priest probably had stomach pains the rest of the day. I don’t bend where the requirements of the god are being ignored or short changed.”

  “No, you certainly don’t,” Sahure said, his voice neutral.

  “Must I ride in the litter again today? Is there any chance I can enjoy the freedom of the chariot?” Tyema knew she sounded a little wistful. “I never did obtain a chariot and team for the temple, because of my pregnancy.”

  He laughed. “Pharaoh has ordered the litter and the fan bearers and the guards to escort you. The whole impressive regalia, as if you were his relative. He continues to do you much honor, which would be a major insult to refuse. Hotepre and I’ll be in my chariot.” Standing by while she went to the mirror for a final adjustment of her pectoral, he made an offer. “This afternoon, if you like, I’ll take you to the chariot manufacturer for Pharaoh’s army. You can place an order. I’m sure Pharaoh will authorize it. And we can evaluate the available horses in the herd, see if we can put together a team or two. It’s always best to have a backup team. Now that I’m aware you’re the high priestess, with piles of deben at your command, there are no further obstacles beyond Pharaoh’s permission. All chariots in Egypt are under his purview. You can send the considerable payment to Thebes later, via courier.”

  “Sobek expects me to take a certain monthly allowance,” she said, annoyed at feeling so defensive over her expenditure.

  “Aye, but you never do, Lady Tyema,” Hotepre chimed in. “High time you indulged yourself a bit for all the hard work you do.”

  “The subject’s settled then,” Sahure said, as he escorted her and her crocodile keeper into the maze of palace corridors and eventually out a side door to where the litter and the chariot waited.

  Tyema was braced for another unpleasant conversation with the old high priest, but when their small procession arrived at the entrance to the Theban temple of Sobek, Lemertet was waiting, backed by two under priests and a scribe. Bowing, he handed her out of the litter before Sahure could leave his chariot.

  Tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow, Lemertet gave her a blinding smile. “I hope you won’t mind touring the ponds with me, Lady Tyema. I’m afraid our high priest is indisposed.”

  “Oh, too bad,” she said insincerely. “Stomach pains?”

  Biting his lips, the priest only nodded. “But never fear, he’ll be well enough to sing tomorrow and take full part in the ceremonies.”

  “I had no doubt.” He’d never miss his moment of glory, when even Pharaoh will be at his temple! Tyema introduced Sahure and Hotepre and then they moved into the first temple courtyard, where six gigantic granite statues of Sobek in half human, half crocodile form lined the walkway made of alternating black and white bands of gleaming marble.

  “Tomorrow of course we’ll proceed around the perimeter of the temple grounds, since there will be crowds,” Lemertet said as they walked. “But I thought you’d like to see the entire complex, since you’re here.”

  “Oh yes, I’m most curious.” Tyema gestured at the statue she was passing. “We’ve nothing so monumental at Ta’sobeksef.”

  “Your temple is scaled to its location, Lady Tyema,” Sahure said unexpectedly. “It looks out over the Nile,” he explained to Lemertet. “The Great One is said to be fond of walking the beach below the plateau, especially at sunset.”

  The Theban under priest raised his eyebrows and pursued the subject of Tyema’s temple. “I understand your current structure was built on the ruins of an older one? From the days of the earliest pharaohs?”

  Tyema nodded. “Correct. While we have no statues on the scale of yours, we do boast some beautiful murals. Similar to those over there, but smaller. So you expect crowds tomorrow then? I’ve been told repeatedly our deity isn’t as highly regarded in Thebes as some.”

  “Oh yes.” Lemertet was all but rubbing his hands together in anticipation. “There’s a high level of interest in you, in the crocodile you’ve brought, in the fact Pharaoh himself plans to attend. Normally such attentions are reserved only for Horus and Amun-Re.”

  “No doubt your temple’s coffers will be swollen with new offerings after this is over,” Sahure said.

  Lemertet gave him a sharp glance but didn’t respond. Struck by a thought, Tyema asked, “How many scribes do you maintain for the temple? I’ve only the one—”

  “One?” Both Lemertet and the scribe following them laughed. “Oh my dear lady, one man couldn’t possibly keep up with our administrative needs unless he was the Great One Thoth, scribe to the gods. We have dozens on staff, which is fairly common here in Thebes. Why do you ask?”

  “No particular reason.” Tyema thought she might talk to Lemertet privately before she left Thebes and see if he would take Jemkhufu on as a transfer. Realizing the man might have dared to intercept the precious letters between herself and Sahure had left her deeply shaken.

  After rounding the corner of the temple, Tyema stood still, marveling at the size and beauty of the pond in which the Theban crocodile bask dwelt. It was a veritable lake. Half of the sprawling pond was shaded by acacia trees and palms, while the other half lay open to the sun. A large statue of Sobek in his crocodile form stood on a granite pedestal in the center of the water. She saw a number of crocodiles basking in the warmth on the sandy shore, while others floated in the deep pond. The water was below the slight rise on which she now stood, and the pond was surrounded by a fairly high wall, keeping the denizens safely removed from the onlookers.

  “So I’ll be releasing the animal from my control here tomorrow?” Tyema asked.

  Lemertet nodded. “There’ll be a chute for him to slide down into the water, which as you can see is quite deep at this end.”

  “Seems like a good design,” Hotepre said with approval. “Where are the hatching grounds? And the young ones?”

  “We keep them in a separate area. Pilgrims often purchase the smaller ones, or the eggs that fail to hatch. If you’ll follow me—” Lemertet led them farther into the extensive temple grounds, toward a series of less ornate buildings beyond the pond.

  “I never thought about selling the young ones,” Tyema said. “We do sell the unfertile eggs, however. I have a temple artist who paints Sobek’s cartouche on them, beautifully detailed.”

  “What do you do with the juveniles you don’t need for breeding or temple trade?” Lemertet took her elbow as they moved onto a path of more coarse gravel.

  “Release them into the Nile,” she said absently. It was fascinating to discuss temple business with another priest, especially one who oversaw such a bustling, prosperous temple. If this complex was one of the minor houses of worship in Thebes, what must the temple of Amun-Ra be like? “I’ll want to chant a short farewell and blessing to Sobek’s gift, before I leave the grounds tomorrow.”

  “Appropriate.” Lemertet nodded his approval of the plan. “Then we’ll all move into the temple for prayer and the ceremony will be concluded. The public can remain outside, by the pond.”

  “I’ll be accompanying Lady Tyema,” Sahure said from his position walking close behind them.

  “Surely not into the temple? Aren’t you sworn to Horus?” Lemertet was startled.

  “As is Pharaoh, but he’ll enter the outer sanctuary,” Sahure reminded him. “I’m assigned to guard Lady Tyema while she’s here in Thebes. Not that she’d co
me to any harm in a place dedicated to Sobek.”

  “I don’t know, yesterday when the high priest was accusing you of trying to take over his job, my lady, I was happy he had no weapon to hand,” Lemertet said with a chuckle. “The older he gets, the more violent his temper becomes.”

  In response to Sahure’s instant, sharp glance, Tyema shook her head. “It was harmless enough. I’ve no desire to live here in Thebes. My place is in Ta’sobeksef.”

  “As you constantly remind us,” he said.

  He’s never going to get over my rejection of his proposal, is he? Tyema allowed Sahure’s remark to go unchallenged.

  The rest of the tour was uneventful. Tyema and Hotepre were both more than satisfied with the accommodations for the crocodile they were chaperoning.

  Lemertet served Tyema and Sahure a small luncheon on a private patio overlooking the crocodile pond, while Hotepre ate with the temple’s animal keepers.

  After a cordial parting from Lemertet when the simple meal was concluded, Tyema walked to the waiting chariot and litter. She allowed herself to be handed into the litter and her small procession headed to the palace. Leaning against the cushions, she fanned herself, even though the royal fan bearers walking on either side of the litter were doing their best against the rising heat. She closed her eyes for a long moment, thinking about tomorrow and the procession. She’d never been involved in anything as grandiose as this promised to be. Even the dedication of Sobek’s new temple back in Ta’sobeksef hadn’t been so huge. Yes, the nomarch and his court had attended and there’d been songs and ceremonies, but not with Pharaoh and half of Thebes in the audience.

  And there I’ll be, the priestess from the rural nome. She sighed. Well, this was all in Sobek’s service and at his command, so she’d be fine. The crocodile would obey her, she never forgot her songs, the god would support her. Knowing all the things she had to do after the religious ceremonies was causing her chest to tighten and her head to spin. Tracking down the practitioner of black magic among hundreds of people at Court was going to be daunting. And what if Sahure is involved?

  *****

  Her chambers were empty. “Do you know where my niece has taken my son?” Tyema asked the guards at the entrance to her suite.

  “I believe they went to the gardens by the fountain, my lady.”

  “Let me escort you,” Sahure said. “I wish to see my son again.”

  When Tyema walked out of the palace into the edge of the specified garden, she was surprised and displeased to find her baby being passed from hand to hand among a group of younger ladies of the court, while her niece and Jemkhufu sat deep in conversation with the Thebans. Her scribe was chatting with Lady Baufratet of all people. Tyema was amazed and suspicious the haughty young noblewoman would condescend to talk to a scribe. The lotus bracelet tightened around her wrist and Tyema saw the dark purple flickers of black magic’s influence around Baufratet and Nidiamhet. Victims? Or is one of them the magician? Hard to imagine. She tried to eye Sahure without blatantly staring and was relieved to see no flickers. This time.

  “Good afternoon, everyone,” Sahure said as he and Tyema came closer to the group.

  “How long has he been out here?” Tyema asked Renebti, as she went to take Seknehure from Nidiamhet.

  “Oh don’t be angry with your niece,” Baufratet said with a laugh, breaking off her conversation with Jemkhufu. “The queen told us about your darling baby earlier today and we just had to come see for ourselves, right, girls?”

  A chorus of voices agreed with her. Nidiamhet handed the boy to Tyema, saying, “I think he likes me.” She patted Seknehure’s rosy cheek. “He’s so well behaved. Such gorgeous brown eyes.”

  “Thank you.” Tyema was fuming, extremely annoyed her child had been taken from the safety of her guarded chambers and passed around like a doll to women she didn’t know, two of whom were touched in some way by the black magic, although she couldn’t explain her specific concern to anyone, not even her niece. Queen Ashayet was one thing, these women quite another. “He should be napping by now. He’ll be cranky tonight.”

  Shifting from one foot to the other, her niece was ill at ease. “I’m sorry, Aunt Tyema. I didn’t realize how much time had passed.”

  Coming to link her arm in Sahure’s, Baufratet toyed with his golden falcon badge, allowing her hand to stray across his bare chest in a possessive caress. “If you’re done escorting Lady Tyema for the day, I think you owe me a chariot ride, the one I won from you at senet last week?”

  Tyema felt a flash of angry jealousy go through her like a wave of fire. He takes her in his chariot? Just another of his seduction tactics? How foolish I was, thinking myself so special. Can I trust anything he tells me?

  Sahure shot her a glance, removing Baufratet’s fingers from his person. “I told you as we played the game, a drive in my war chariot was an inappropriate thing to wager for, if you’ll recall.”

  Another lady in waiting whose name Tyema couldn’t recall chimed in on the topic. “Sahure never lets any woman ride in his chariot, you know that, Baufratet. None of the charioteers do. It’s not allowed.”

  Placing her hand on Sahure’s arm once more, his childhood friend pouted prettily, the red ocher on her plump lips calling attention to the perfection of her face. “I thought you’d make an exception for me. Well then, if you’re going to be so stubborn and proper, I’ll accept a stroll along the Nile, here in Pharaoh’s garden.”

  “Don’t linger on my account,” Tyema said, although her heart was lightened by the information that only she had been invited into Sahure’s chariot and equally pleasing was the knowledge he’d taught her to drive. “We’ll be returning to my suite for the rest of the afternoon.”

  “We’ll see you at dinner?” Nidiamhet asked.

  The thought of another interminable meal with the courtiers was suddenly overwhelming to Tyema. “No,” she said, reaching a sudden decision and feeling much better as she did so. “I must pray in solitude this evening, offer my thoughts to the god in preparation for his blessing on the procession and ceremonies tomorrow.” Hopefully Sobek can forgive one lie from me. I swear to dedicate all my time to finding the sorcerer after the day of the procession, no matter what it takes. And then I can go home.

  “Can you find your way back to your rooms?” Sahure asked, resisting Baufratet’s tug at his arm.

  “Of course I can, I’m not a child.” Instantly Tyema regretted her undignified flash of temper.

  Someone giggled. Nidiamhet raised her eyebrows but smoothed her expression when she saw Tyema glance at her. Sahure shrugged, lowering his head to listen to whatever Baufratet wished to say to him.

  Tyema made herself walk slowly up the flight of broad stairs to the palace, holding her son close and nuzzling his hair, breathing in his sweet baby scent. Her niece and the scribe came behind her.

  “There were some messages today, from the temple, sent by carrier pigeon,” Jemkhufu said. He fumbled with his leather satchel. “I’ve got the most urgent ones right here.”

  “Not now,” Tyema answered.

  Renebti pulled at her arm. “I’m sorry if you’re displeased, Aunt. The women came to our rooms after lunch, laughing and chattering and demanding to see the baby. Lady Baufratet said the queen had been talking about how sweet he was—”

  “My son is not to be taken out of our rooms again, unless I’ve given my permission, do I make myself clear?”

  “Of course, Aunt.” Her niece bit her lip, unshed tears making her eyes shine. Wrapped in her anger, Tyema was beyond worrying about Renebti’s feelings.

  She was crisper than usual with her scribe. “The day after tomorrow, we can talk about these messages and any other temple business. I’ll ask Edekh to set aside an office for us to use at midmorning.”

  “Will you need me tomorrow?” he asked.

  She shook her head. Feeling a bit guilty, she said, “I hope they’re taking good care of you, as far as lodgings?”

  He nodded
. “The surroundings are grand here, quite congenial. A man could get spoiled.”

  “I’m glad you like it in Thebes.” Since I may try to get you transferred to the temple here and not have you return to Ta’sobeksef with us. Perhaps she was being unfair; she knew she needed to give Jemkhufu a chance to answer Sahure’s charges regarding interference with their mail, but in her heart she knew Sahure was right. And trust, once broken, was impossible to restore.

  Leaving the scribe to find his own way wherever he’d been assigned a room, Tyema and Renebti walked to their suite. As she sank down on the bed and opened her dress to allow the baby to nurse, Tyema closed her eyes and leaned back, suddenly exhausted. Her arms and legs felt as if they’d turned to marble and it was an effort to stay awake.

  “I’m sorry to have upset you,” her niece said, wringing her hands. “I didn’t know how to refuse their request to take him outside. The Court ladies are so arrogant and self assured, and they serve the queen. I didn’t want to cause trouble.”

  “It’s all right, I hadn’t thought to tell you I didn’t want him in company.” Tyema patted the side of the bed with her free hand. “Come, sit, tell me how the conversation went with your high born companions.”

  Bringing her a cup of water, Renebti had her brow furrowed in thought. “Most of them admired the baby, wanted to play with him, especially Lady Nidiamhet. Lady Baufratet asked a lot of questions about you, who the baby’s father is, about Lord Sahure’s time in our nome. I told her I didn’t know anything about his visit. I certainly never met him.”

  “Good. We have gossips like her at home,” Tyema said, striving for a light tone, although she wasn’t at all pleased to know the woman tried to wheedle personal information out of her unsophisticated niece. “The less a nosy woman knows, the better.”

  “Well, she stopped pestering me and started batting her eyes at your scribe after that,” Renebti said with palpable satisfaction.

  And what did he tell her, I wonder? If she’s the sorceress, she might have been able to loosen his tongue. But no, apparently she didn’t try any spells on Renebti. Probably just batted those malachite-and-kohl rimmed eyes at my scribe and got him to reveal anything she asked. Wishing she had a better knowledge of how black magic was wielded, Tyema dropped a kiss on Seknehure’s cheek. She blew kisses on his tummy, much to his chortling delight. Half her thoughts were of Jemkhufu, more than ever convinced he’d served his last day as scribe of her temple.

 

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