This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
No part of this work may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher.
Published by Kindle Press, Seattle, 2016
Amazon, the Amazon logo, Kindle Scout, and Kindle Press are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
For those who dare to dream . . .
CONTENTS
Part I
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
Part II
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
Part III
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
PHOTOS
THE WORLD OF THE 18TH DYNASTY
FOOTNOTES
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Part I
“The plant reveals what is in the seed.”
—Ipet-Isut
CHAPTER
1
TEPPY BOLTED ACROSS the grain field like a gazelle fleeing from a cheetah. His linen kilt flapped against his legs, and coarse leaves of wheat thrashed his bare chest. The beast pounced after Teppy, who was too terrified to glance back at the creature that was determined to tear his frail six-year-old body to pieces.
Fixed on his trail, the unseen creature gained momentum while Teppy’s heart pounded against his chest. His brother Tuthmosis had warned him not to be afraid, to fight back with all his strength—but Teppy had none left. Fearful the beast intended to rip his head from his body, Teppy kept running through the endless grain field, calling out for his brother to save him.
Roars erupted, then a wisp of wind brushed the side-lock of hair that hung from one side of his temple. An arrow had cut through the air, narrowly missing his otherwise clean-shaven head. Another arrow sliced through his kilt, burrowing into the flesh of his thigh. Teppy stumbled to the ground, anticipating the coming pain. Before it occurred, Teppy heard the thunderous roars again. He turned his head away from the sight of the wound and yanked the arrow from his thigh. Teppy grimaced, staggered back to his feet and ran until he cleared the field.
In front of him now, rising up among the three great pyramids, was the figure of Horemkhat. With its monumental lion’s body and the head of their old pharaoh Khafra attached at the shoulders, the statue stood over forty cubits high, painted in vibrant shades of red, yellow, and blue.
Teppy dashed toward it. I’m almost there . . . almost safe, he thought.
His body gave out when he reached the tip of the statue’s paw. Gasping, Teppy collapsed in the sand, causing more blood to flow out from his wound.
An ominous shadow spread across the statue until it had enveloped Teppy and the open area around him. He looked toward the sky, searching for the source of the shadow towering above, and was relieved to discover that the beast appeared to be only a man dressed in regal clothing. He carried a sickle in his hand and a bow with a quiver of arrows slung over one shoulder. His face was hidden in silhouette against the blinding orange sun. When the figure shifted its body, its head came into view—the unmistakable head of a ram. It roared again at Teppy, and saliva dripped from its canine teeth. The beast dropped to his knees and grabbed his victim by the throat. Teppy screamed but no sound emitted from him. Easing the grip around Teppy’s neck, the beast raised the razor-sharp sickle above his head. Teppy shut his eyes, expecting the swipe of the blade that would slit his throat. Silence followed, however, and a moment later Teppy felt something odd, not the blade slashing through his neck, but a sudden lightness as air rushed into his larynx. Teppy’s eyes popped open. His body slowly fell away beneath him, and drops of blood sprinkled the twitching limbs of his headless body. He screamed and flailed about until his brother shook him out of his nightmare.
“Teppy! What is it?” shouted Tuthmosis.
Teppy lurched awake in his bedchamber.
Eased by the familiar surroundings, he cried. His chamber had always been a source of comfort for him, a place where he felt protected by the golden statues of animal gods that towered over his platform bed and the many pottery jars that lined his floor, painted with his father’s war scenes and conquests. The guards always kept the torches in Teppy’s bedchamber illuminated so that he could see the hieroglyphics covering the walls from floor to ceiling. The inscribed pictures represented incantations meant to prevent evil spirits from entering his dreams at night, though none of it had been enough to stop the beast of that night’s dream.
Tuthmosis sat down next to his brother and wiped away his tears with his hand. “Stop crying. It’s alright. Tell me what happened.”
Teppy took a moment to calm himself. “He was chasing me.”
“Who was chasing you?”
“Amun. He shot an arrow in my leg, and he cut off my head.”
Tuthmosis pulled the bedcover back. “Look, no arrow, not even a wound.”
Teppy sat up and examined his lower half. Other than his right hipbone protruding slightly more than the left, his legs were unblemished and intact.
“And I promise,” continued Tuthmosis, “I’m looking at your head, and it’s still attached to your body.”
Teppy cradled his head with both arms just to be sure.
“What have I told you? You mustn’t reveal your fear of him. You have to be brave and fight back. If he kills you three times in your dream, you’ll never find your way back from the afterlife. And now look, it’s already the second time.”
“I can’t fight him. He frightens me,” Teppy whimpered.
Tuthmosis put a protective arm around Teppy, a gesture that always made his little brother feel safe. At age sixteen, ten years older than Teppy, Tuthmosis was caring, smart, and adamantly brave. He protected his younger brother from everything, even crocodiles. Teppy dreamed of having broad shoulders and muscular arms just like his brother and a side-lock as long as his, too. This, Teppy knew for sure, would make him brave.
Tuthmosis removed an amulet from around his neck and placed it around his brother’s neck. “Yes, you can fight him. This will help you,” he said.
“Your Aten amulet?” Teppy asked, unable to contain his excitement.
“Now it’s yours,” Tuthmosis answered.
Teppy rubbed his fingers across the gold-plated disk. Although he was uncertain about the amulet’s significance, he remained enthralled by it. The engraving depicted a man with a crown on his head seated and bathed by the rays of the sun. “What does the picture mean?” he asked.
“Aten is the sun, the god that gives us light. Without him, we would have no morning, only the darkness of night. Look, the amulet shows the scene of Aten shining his power down on the pharaoh of Egypt. It will give you power and strength over your enemies as well,” said Tuthmosis.
“Even Amun?”
“Yes, even the Amun god. Promise me you’ll always keep it with you and never let it leave your sight.”
“I promise,” replied Teppy. “But if I have it, what will protect you?”
Tuthmosis gave his brother a self-assured look, tapping his chest. “I don’t need it. The Aten is always with me. Now get up. It’s time to dress and greet mother in her chamber.”
Teppy sluggishly rolled his body out of bed with a disappointed look on his face. “Can we go swim in the river instead?”
“You know that father forbade us to swim in the river,” Tuthmosis reminded him.
“But he won’t know if we never tell him.”
“Teppy, you know we can’t.”
“Please? We hardly ever get to swim in the river.”
Teppy pouted. All he would have to do now is hold his defiant facial expression just a little bit longer and Tuthmosis would give in to his wishes.
Just as Teppy expected, a sly grin appeared on his brother’s face. Tuthmosis handed him a hooded cloak. “Then we won’t tell him.”
Teppy shook his head while mimicking his brother’s mischievous smile. He was going swimming in the river with his big brother, and there could be nothing better in the whole world.
The boys made their way down the corridor and slipped out of the palace, being careful not to be detected by their father’s guards.
From an open window, Ay, the pharaoh’s trusted confidant, watched his two young nephews sneak out of the palace grounds before he continued down the corridor to the pharaoh’s chamber.
Ay entered as Pharaoh Amenhotep was in the midst of his prayer to the Amun god—the one he would always recite before he went off to war:
“Amun, my god of sustenance, my lord is my protector, who answers the one that calls on him. Amun, the king of the gods, grant me victory over my enemies, light the path I must follow.”
Ay stood silently until Amenhotep finished. The pharaoh was fully aware that someone was standing at the entrance of his chamber because of the shadow cast onto the opaque white curtain separating his chamber from the palace corridor. “Who stands there?” he asked.
“My Pharaoh, it’s your most humble servant, Ay.”
Amenhotep stepped out from behind the curtain into the outer chamber dressed in his king’s robe and nemes—the royal striped head cloth. Typically, the pharaoh appeared stout and solidly built, but today he was sweaty, frail, and anxious. He must be craving it again, Ay thought. Many moons ago, the pharaoh began to suffer from severe toothaches that couldn’t be allayed. The enamel in several of his teeth had worn down and most of the pulp was exposed, causing excruciating abscesses. It was Ay’s responsibility to extract the opium from the capsules of the poppy plant and administer the medicine to the pharaoh. If Amenhotep didn’t get the opium when he needed it, he would behave like a tyrant, and in recent days his need for the cure had turned habitual.
Cradling his jaw in pain, Amenhotep yelled at Ay, “Give it to me!”
He snatched the pouch that Ay was carrying and searched inside in desperation.
“Why is it empty?”
“Forgive me, my Pharaoh. I haven’t had the opportunity to replenish it.”
“Then why are you appearing before me with an empty pouch?”
“General Nasheret has an urgent message that the Nubians have encroached our borders. He still awaits your arrival.”
“Bring me the cure now!” shouted Amenhotep, disregarding Ay’s message.
“As you wish, my Pharaoh.”
Ay had become the perfect manservant for Amenhotep. He never questioned the pharaoh and always did as he was told, and though he was the pharaoh’s wife’s brother, Ay’s loyalty to Amenhotep had grown much stronger than his devotion to his sister, Queen Ty. How could this not be when it was Amenhotep and not the queen who rewarded him with a life of royalty?
Before Ay could walk away, Amenhotep grabbed him by the arm. “Where is Tuthmosis?”
“I saw him and Prince Teppy leave the palace, my Pharaoh. They were headed toward the river.”
Amenhotep seethed. He’d warned Tuthmosis and Teppy not to go into the river. A crocodile had recently attacked a servant boy out for a swim and devoured one of his legs, and now the rogue creature harbored a taste for human blood. It was dangerous for any citizen to swim in the river, much less the royal sons of a pharaoh. Amenhotep instructed Ay to fetch his chariot, and along with four of his royal guards, the pharaoh rode out to the river in search of Tuthmosis.
CHAPTER
2
THE VILLAGE OF THEBES teemed with merchants and citizens bartering their wares under huge looming monuments of farm animals, macabre beasts, and a colossal statue of Pharaoh Amenhotep. Houses painted in pastel hues and outlined in hieroglyphics stood on either side of a narrow road choked with the noisy traffic of donkey carts and small feral animals running about.
Teppy and Tuthmosis made their way through the village disguised in cloaks. Children of royalty were forbidden to go into the village to walk among the peasants. “Someone might curse you if they discovered your secret birth name and that you were a prince,” Tuthmosis had once explained to Teppy.
The boys had a secret name given at birth that was known only to their parents, and Queen Ty, had warned them to never reveal those names to anyone. Without the knowledge of their secret names, they were immune from any villager who might be envious or harbor evil intents against the royal family. It was not possible to conjure a spell of divination against them using their public names—Teppy and Tuthmosis. In any case, Teppy found the pronunciation of his secret name too difficult, so his mother’s and Tuthmosis’s warnings weren’t necessary.
While Tuthmosis made his way through the crowded street with quick deliberate steps, upright and poised, Teppy followed closely behind, hunched forward with a slight limp in his left leg, which dragged whenever he attempted to speed up to his brother’s pace.
“We’re close. Are you tired?” shouted Tuthmosis.
“No,” said Teppy, intentionally giving a one-word answer so that his brother wouldn’t suspect he was out of breath and falling behind.
Passing through the village was the only way to get to the river, and it was an exciting journey for Teppy. The village presented a whole new world, a welcome change from his secluded life in the palace. He was fascinated by the bustle of the town and loved seeing the people together with all the different animals, especially cats. One, mangy and bone-thin, was partially hidden under the brush. Teppy stopped following Tuthmosis and walked over for a closer look. The cat tried to lift itself from a lying position but couldn’t do it because of a paralyzed hind leg.
By the time Tuthmosis turned back and found his brother, Teppy was holding the ailing cat in his arms.
“It’s sick,” Teppy said. “We have to take it home and cure it.” He gently placed the cat on the ground. It didn’t move, and Tuthmosis examined its frail body. “It’s too late. The disease has overtaken it,” he said.
They had seen the same purplish bruising on the cat’s underside many times before on animals that had contracted the disease: the purplish mark being the first symptom and an inevitable sign of death to come.
“Can we take it home and try to cure it?” asked Teppy.
“There is no cure, Teppy. If we take it home and it dies, who do you think will get punished for it?”
His brother spoke the truth; still, it hurt to leave the animal, so Teppy sat on the ground and cradled the cat in his arms, caressing the top of its head.
“You’re a good brother,” said Tuthmosis, “much kinder than me, but you mustn’t let others see you show such weakness, for if they do, they will pounce on you
like a leopard. Do you understand?”
Although he really didn’t understand, Teppy nodded anyway. How could he hide his weakness when everyone can look at his body and see it? Maybe Tuthmosis wasn’t speaking of his deformity, he thought. Maybe his brother was talking about what was not visible—the weakness he carried in his heart.
Teppy saw his brother suddenly look worried. He was gazing at a group of villagers who were in turn, spying on them. The villagers coalesced from just three to a group of nine and were mumbling strange words under their breath as they approached them. The group paused and stared at the boys suspiciously before starting their approach again, intent on discovering who they really were. Teppy looked up at his brother as if asking his guidance on what to do next.
“You must do exactly as I tell you,” he said to Teppy in a soft but firm voice. “Put the cat down, stand up, and take two steps back from it.”
Teppy did as his brother commanded, pushing himself off the ground with both hands until he was able to stand. This had happened to them before: almost being recognized, almost getting caught. The tone of his brother’s voice was a warning that they were close to being discovered again. “When I run, follow me,” said Tuthmosis.
Teppy nodded.
Tuthmosis directed Teppy to walk straight ahead and not to look back. After only a moment of following his brother’s instructions, Teppy gave in to his curiosity. He turned back and saw the villagers had stop following them and had circled the diseased cat. A soldier dressed in his combat uniform with a bow slung over his shoulders, stepped out from among the group and pointed at the boys. “Hey, you two!”
Tuthmosis took off running and Teppy lumbered behind him. As he ran he kept looking back over his shoulder at the soldier, who was now aiming an arrow at them. In an instant it whizzed past Tuthmosis’s head.
“Why are they shooting arrows at us?” shouted Teppy. “What have we done?”
“They think we hurt the cat. Keep running!”
The boys were fast approaching the river when Teppy began gasping for air. His struggle to keep up with Tuthmosis had exhausted him, and now he lagged behind at a slow and unsteady pace. This was not a dream where he could run like a gazelle, or hop and jump as high as he wanted. This was real life, and despite his best efforts, Teppy’s deformities, his uneven shoulders, protruding hip, and curved spine, would sometimes cause him to lose his balance.
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