The Tale of Nefret

by M. L. Bullock

  “She is gone, Ayn, and we cannot bring her back. Now a hundred other Paimus depend on us. We cannot act like wide-eyed fools. Please gather yourself and let me think.”

  “Yes, of course, mekhma. I am sorry.”

  The desert queen squeezed the girl’s hand, and together they strolled about the garden whispering to one another. The redhead comforted her friend as they walked.

  I knew their language; it sounded clunky and odd at first, but it came back to my memory quickly. I would never confess to anyone how I knew it. Of all the people in my court, or in Thebes for that matter, only a few remembered how I got here.

  Huya, myself and one other.

  My mother’s scheming had pushed me to this lofty position, but my own will had secured it. Hearing the desert language again made me feel sentimental—sentimental enough to inspect this “queen” more closely.

  Without an attendant I stepped lightly down the limestone steps, entering the garden as stealthily as a cat. The plain-faced girl saw me first and froze. The redheaded queen spun about quickly, but I remained poised on the bottom stair with my hands crossed in front of me as I had been trained to do since I was a child. Neither woman knew what to say, so I let them stew in silence for a moment while I took them in and allowed them to view me. I enjoyed making people feel uncomfortable—it was one of the few benefits of being the Queen of Egypt.

  “If you want to speak to me, it will have to be alone.” The desert dialect fell easily from my lips; it pleased me to see them so surprised at hearing it spoken by an Egyptian queen. No, I had not forgotten. I was no longer a wiry child clinging to her mother’s legs. The foreign queen dismissed the girl with a gesture. With a hand gesture of her own, the girl walked backwards out of the courtyard, leaving us alone at last.

  “Ah, now we are alone. Tell me Queen of the Desert, why are you here? Why did you choose to speak to me? Wouldn’t you rather speak to Pharaoh? He has an eye for beautiful queens. Perhaps my sister-wife, Tadukhipa, could help you. I am merely an old woman with no influence and nothing to offer you.”

  “But you are the Queen of Egypt! If you cannot help me, no one can. My father, Semkah, sent this to show you. He says you once knew his father, Onesu, and that you would know it.”

  I felt my hands shake, either from age or from my racing heart. I took the cloth in my hand and sat on the nearby garden bench. Spreading out the rough material with my fingers, I could see the painted symbol—the symbol of the Bee-Eater! A sign of distress, a serious sign to all desert people.

  “What is your name?”

  To my surprise the girl knelt before me, her hand upraised in the tribal sign of respect. “Great Queen, I am Nefret, daughter of Kadeema of Grecia and Semkah, son of the Red Lands. I am the granddaughter of Onesu, the Warrior-King of Zerzura. I humble myself before you and plead with you for help!” Her passionate speech had her on the brink of tears. I could hear them in her voice. I rose quickly and began to leave.

  “Wait! Please!”

  I kept my back turned to her. “Have you finished crying?”

  “Yes,” she sniffled, “I have.” I heard the silk of her dress as she hurried to her feet. I returned to my seat and smoothed my dress without making eye contact with her.

  “Good. Many years ago, my husband and my pharaoh decreed that tears would never be shed in my presence. He so loves me that he wants me to be happy all the time. May Isis bless him! I cannot stay in the presence of tears. It is the law.”

  “Great Queen, forgive me. I do not know your laws.” She sat on the bench beside me, breaking another law that mandated no one would sit in the presence of the Queen unless invited, but I did not mention it. She would learn the ways of Egypt. I had almost made up my mind.

  “Tell me about your people, the Meshwesh. Tell me about your home. Tell me what has happened.”

  She began in a rush, but I calmed her. “No, tell me. Tell me a story. Like the Old Ways.” I closed my eyes and leaned back against the wall, waiting. She started slowly, awkwardly, but once she began, her storytelling transported me back in time.

  I was again with my own clan, the Algat. Nefret told the Tale of the Meshwesh, but it was my own people I thought about. I remembered their faces, so like mine, so foreign to the Egyptian court. The cadence of the girl’s gentle voice comforted me as she told me the sad story of the Lightning Gate, the giants and the hidden city. Unlike many of the young people in my court, I believed in the old stories. I remembered them. How simple life had been then! We were too poor to know we were poor, I thought wryly.

  As she wove her tale with her sweet, quiet voice, I thought of warm afternoons napping in my tent with my eight sisters. I remembered burrowing under the tent, with my now-dead sister to sneak a peek at the traders who came in daily to see our beautiful women and drink our beer. The Algat brewed the finest beer in the desert, and that was no easy task.

  I remembered the nights I spent with my sisters, stealing bits of grilled goat from the spit and scurrying to the tops of trees to see the stars and try to touch them.

  How I miss you, Hamrahana, my sister! How I miss you all!

  The girl’s voice broke my mental wandering: “Another enemy rides against us now and it is time…time to go home to Zerzura where we can defend ourselves.” I stared at her face. I noticed that her eye color changed; one minute they were green, in another light they were soft brown—another sign that she had been favored by the gods.

  “We lost our way, oh Great Queen. For too long the Meshwesh have been divided, forced to live on oases, never together. Then word came of a wise Queen in the East, the Great Wife of Pharaoh, who once loved and knew the desert people. The Meshwesh, the Algat, the Cushites—all are in danger from the Kiffians, angry men, tall as trees, who ride in secret across the Red Lands—your lands! They steal our women and murder our children. We come to you for justice!”

  I grew troubled and considered leaving if only to think. To think and forget again.

  “Oh, but more than that, Wise Queen. They want the gold. We have much gold in mines far to the south, more gold than any other clan, and turquoise too.” She took a deep breath and said, “As mekhma, I will give you that gold and turquoise, my Queen, if you would only help us. Help us defeat our enemies. Help us find our way home so that we may wander no more. I am only a mekhma—you are the Queen of Lower and Upper Egypt. If you say it will be so, I will believe it. For even more than that, you are also a daughter of the desert.”

  I sprang out of my seat and walked away, leaving the Desert Queen behind. I had not expected her to identify me so easily. I did not like feeling vulnerable, especially to someone so young and inexperienced.

  This morning when the slaves had washed my skin and oiled it with perfumes, I had not thought about my Algat upbringing.

  When I broke my fast and dined on the finest eggs, fruits and cold meats, I had not thought of my mother or father. But now all their round faces were before me, and I missed them like I had left them only yesterday.

  I missed home. I missed knowing where I belonged.

  Amenhotep loved me and I him, but I did not belong here. For thirty years now I had railed against that fact, but it was the truth. Now this Desert Queen had brought those memories back with her storytelling and her shameless pleas for help.

  Now, my dear husband, what do I do? It is I who sheds the tears. How can I escape myself?

  Chapter Nineteen

  The Sun Rises—Nefret

  I twisted the corner of my gown nervously and paced the small room I shared with Ayn. The Egyptian court had not been kind to us. We’d been shoved away and told nothing. The Great Wife Tiye had left me in the gardens without so much as a word of warning. I paced the sticky floor and went over the conversation again and again with my friend.

  “What will we do now? If they do not let us out of here, I will find a way. We can fight our way out!” Ayn said angrily. She pulled on the door again, but it remained locked as it had all night. Neither of us
had slept or eaten. At some point a servant left a tray of unknown meats outside our door, but we refused it. “I should have taken that tray! We would have gotten out then!”

  “Keep your voice down, Ayn. We won’t get any help here, but we are not beaten yet. Just keep calm. I will see if I can talk to Huya again. He seems a reasonable man.”

  “Really? What about the Great…”

  “Say nothing! Never speak against her! There are many ears here in this palace. We are far from home, Ayn. Very far indeed. Now sit down and rest. We may need it.”

  As soon as we had a mind to settle down, the door opened and Queen Tiye herself walked in. “Well, Desert Queen, you will have what you asked for. Are you prepared to give me what I want?”

  Ayn smiled and stood beside me. I smiled too. “Yes, Great Wife. We give you our gold mines and turquoise. We agree.”

  “No, that is not what I want. What care I for gold or jewels? I have all I want.”

  Joy escaped me like the air out of a goat’s bladder, a toy we used to play with as a child. “I don’t understand. I have nothing else to give.”

  “For reasons of my own, reasons I do not feel compelled to share with you at this time, I have decided that you can keep your gold and turquoise. Whatever arrangement you have made with my husband, Lord of the Two Lands, is good enough for me. I want something else, Desert Queen.”

  “What is it you want?”

  “I want you. I want you to pledge yourself to me. Pledge that you will stay with me until I die and then when I die, you will stay with my son, Amenhotep.”

  “What?” I gasped in surprise. I could hardly believe my own ears. Surely I was just tired.

  “That is my offer. In exchange for a legion of my soldiers, their provisions and provisions for your people for transport to Zerzura, of which I alone know, I only ask for you.”

  “Why?” I blurted out.

  “As I said, I have my own reasons. What is your answer?”

  Ayn looked at me questioningly. I knew what I had to do. I raised my chin defiantly and said, “Yes, I agree. In exchange for all those things, I will stay with you. However, may I ask one thing?”

  “You may ask…”

  “Give me leave to lead my people to Zerzura. I need to set up my kingdom—I cannot leave it in ruin. My sister, the only other queen, has been abducted by the Kiffians. I need to make sure she is reinstalled as mekhma. Please, I know it is a boon to ask it.”

  The short queen frowned, but she nodded, closing her heavy eyelids once. “So be it. Huya will make all the arrangements and come for you in three days. In the meantime, you will dine with me at all meals. Leave your servant behind. A room has been prepared for you in my apartments.”

  I bowed, bending my knees slightly. “I am grateful. Thank you.” With a flurry of servants, she left me again. Only this time, the door was left open.

  “I want you to go, Ayn. Go back to Saqqara and tell my uncle what has happened. No—wait! Don’t tell him that I must return to Egypt. Just tell him that I have made the provisions. Yes, that is all he needs to know for now.”

  “Wise decision, but I do not like this, Nefret. I can’t leave you—not now! What does she want with you? Can she really hold you here?”

  “Oh yes, she can. Don’t worry for me, Ayn. I will ride back with you. Perhaps the Shining Man will come to me and show me a new path to walk.”

  “What? Who?”

  With a sigh, I sat on the bed with my head in my hands. I wanted to cry, sleep and cry some more.

  “Nothing. It’s nothing. Go, Ayn. I will meet you at Saqqara when I bring the Egyptians.”

  “Very well, mekhma.” She paused in the doorway and smiled at me, “One day, this will be a story. The Tale of Nefret, we will call it. A story of a great mekhma who gave everything for her people. Yes, I will tell that story. I promise.”

  I nodded and let the tears flow. Ayn stayed with me until I fell asleep.

  I awoke with the immediate awareness that I was completely alone and everything had changed.

  I would never be the same.

  Read on for an excerpt from The Falcon Rises,

  Book 2 of The Desert Queen Series

  “Well,” Kiya said, sniffing the air as if she detected something foul, “what is this terrific smell? Camel dung? Is that the new scent from the exotic desert?”

  Her game partner, Meritamon, shook the amber dice and studied the board before moving a marble game piece. Absently she answered, “Too earthy for me. What about you, Inhapi?”

  The third woman did not speak but pretended to gag as she held her fingers over her nose and shook her head. The trio broke out into giggles. Anger whipped up within me like a desert wind. I let the silver bowl full of citrus fruits crash to the ground. It made a terrible clatter, and bright oranges bounced across the courtyard. Kiya sprang to her feet. “You pick that up, stupid!”

  I stared at her with all the hatred I could muster. It was time to end this. I’d had enough of her snide comments. Very easily I could beat her to death with the bowl that lay at my feet.

  “Never,” I whispered ferociously. “I am not your slave!”

  “Then I shall have you whipped like the goat that you are! How dare you defy me—I am the wife of Amenhotep! Pick up that tray, now!”

  Before she could speak another word, Huya stepped out of the shadows from his hiding place along the outer wall. He was always lurking about. I had not noticed him before. He said nothing but merely stared at us. Do not do what you are thinking, his eyes warned me. I do not know what warning Kiya saw in his stare, but it held her anger at bay—at least for the moment.

  The reality of my situation struck me as soundly as I imagined striking Kiya.

  I was never leaving Egypt.

  I had achieved the dream of all mekhmas. I had led the Meshwesh back to Zerzura, but there my story ended. With my sister now ruling in my stead and Alexio at her side, there was nothing left for me to return to. I knew the truth of the matter—my star had fallen, my destiny had changed. I would never see Zerzura or any of my tribe again.

  Yet despite it all, I lived. I remembered Queen Tiye’s words to me before she left for Thebes, “You can live as a prisoner, or you can become a true Queen. Those are your choices. There is nothing else.”

  I would not live as a prisoner, nor would I be Kiya’s fool. I made my decision.

  I took a deep breath and picked up the tray from the floor. As I picked up each piece of fruit I made a resolution. I would condition my mind—I would never think of Alexio, Pah or my father or any of the other Meshwesh again. I would not cry over them or burn incense to any foreign gods for direction and favor.

  I knew what I wanted—what I must do.

  I would become queen of all Egypt. I would truly become Nefertiti.

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  About the Author

  Author of the best-selling Seven Sisters series, M.L. Bullock has been storytelling since she was a child. A student of archaeology, she loves weaving stories that feature her favorite historical characters—including Nefertiti. She currently lives on the Gulf Coast with her family but travels frequently to exotic locations around the globe.