“I’m sorry to hear that. When did it happen?”
“A few months ago. I’m glad I was invited to Pi–Ramesses. It’s sad at home right now.”
“You don’t have a man to ease your pain?”
“No, Majesty.” A gust of wind blew a strand of hair across her face and she brushed it away with her hand. “Father’s trying to decide who’ll succeed him as high priest. Once he does, that’s who I’ll marry.”
“Any candidates?” I asked, out of politeness. I didn’t really care.
“None like you, Majesty,” she said coquettishly.
“Like me?”
“The girls on the boat who’ve been with you talked about you, Majesty. A lot,” she said boldly. She slid closer, took hold of my hand, pressed her leg against mine. “They say your conquests would fill a harem.”
“Don’t believe everything you hear,” I laughed.
She pressed even closer. “Maybe I should find out for myself what’s true and what’s not.”
A year ago I would have immediately taken Tjuyu’s hand and led her to the nearest bed. I was very tempted. She was beautiful and sultry. Only the thought of Neset held me back. I loved her. She’d told me she cared for me. But then she hadn’t come to the quay to see me off when I returned to Pi–Ramesses. She hadn’t answered a single one of my letters since, and I’d sent one every week. Was she done with me, but lacking the courage to tell me so? Though that would be quite unlike Neset. She’d always spoken her mind to me. Had something happened I wasn’t aware of? Tjuyu was looking up at me, her eyes shining. Her skin was warm and smooth against mine. I wouldn’t have to put in any effort at all to have a dalliance with her. She was practically dripping willingness. She’d no doubt be enjoyable. And after what Ramesses had done to me she’d be a welcome distraction, help me take my mind off of how I’d been treated. Neset would never find out. She had no acquaintances in Pi–Ramesses. Even if she heard, she’d probably think it was a rumor from the past. Yes, I could be with Tjuyu and easily get away with it. Except for one thing. I’d know I’d betrayed Neset. I couldn’t stand the thought of hurting her.
I spotted Ramesses across the way, speaking with Kairy. “My brother just summoned me, Tjuyu. I’m sorry.”
“Not as sorry as me, Majesty,” she said. “I’ll be in Pi–Ramesses for a couple of weeks. Call on me. Anytime.”
I bowed, then crossed the garden to Ramesses and Kairy. They fell silent as I approached. Had they been discussing me?
“Brother, did you invite the woman I was just talking with to this party?” I asked.
“No. I’ve never seen her before. Why?”
“Someone did. She received an official invitation. Along with a dozen other women from throughout the valley. Didn’t you notice them traveling north on your barque?”
“It’s a very big barque, Pentawere.” He nudged me in the ribs with his elbow.
“I noticed, Majesties,” Kairy interjected. “One or two came aboard in every large town.”
“You should take advantage, Kairy,” I counseled. “Nedjemib’s interested in you. You disposed of her awfully quickly. It’s not too late. She’s still watching you.”
“Women like her are beyond my reach, Majesty,” Kairy replied. He was coloring slightly. “I know my place.”
“Nedjemib can be quite… enthusiastic,” I confided. “I know from experience. Have a fling. She’ll make your time here at Pi–Ramesses very enjoyable.”
“I know why I’m at Pi–Ramesses, Majesty,” Kairy told me. “It’s not to have a good time.” He nodded at my brother. “I serve Pharaoh and go where he commands. I don’t intend to get involved with a woman I’ll have to leave behind.”
“Your life will be more stable once Amenherkoshef is trained and I sit the throne,” Ramesses promised. “Then you’ll spend most of your time in Djeme. You’ll have time for a wife and family.”
Kairy nodded. “I’ll know the woman who’s meant for me when I encounter her, Majesties.” He scanned the garden. “A commoner, like me. Not anyone at this party.”
Amenherkoshef gestured from amid a cluster of women.
“I’ll see what His Majesty wants,” Kairy said. He bowed to the two of us and departed.
“It’s clear what those particular women want,” I observed. “The favor of a future pharaoh.” I sighed. “About these other women…”
“Maybe Father’s sending potential brides your way, Pentawere.”
“If he is he’s wasting his time.”
“You’re acting very strangely tonight, Brother.”
“Am I?”
“I’ve been watching you reject willing beautiful women all evening. I’ve never seen you do that before. Usually you’ve left whatever party you’re attending with one long before now.”
“Those days have passed, Brother.”
“Are you ill?”
“A woman’s waiting for me in Djeme, Ramesses.”
“Oh?” He was truly surprised.
“At least, I think she’s waiting. She promised she would. But she hasn’t replied to any of my letters.”
“Who is this woman you’ve rejected all others for? Someone I know?”
“I doubt it. Her name’s Neset. She oversees Father’s garden in Djeme.”
“You’re having an affair with a gardener?” He was shocked.
“An overseer. And we’re not having an affair. But I’m in love with her. She’s so much more interesting and fierce and passionate than any woman I’ve ever met,” I said with feeling.
“You’re serious, Pentawere.” Ramesses draped an arm across my shoulders. For the first time he seemed like an actual brother, taking an interest in my life.
“Maybe you’ve seen her around Djeme, Ramesses. She’s unmistakable. She has the most glorious red hair.”
He stepped away with a start. “I have, Pentawere. With Father, many times.”
I felt a surge of jealousy. According to Neset, Mother believed Father was interested in her. With me gone from Djeme had he finally expressed his interest? Had she surrendered to him? Is that why my letters had gone unanswered? Had Father made her a concubine? Had he taken her from me, just like he’d taken the cavalry? “Where have you seen them? When?”
“Watering plants on the tower stairs, just after dawn, right before Father and I go to wake the gods. Apparently they’ve been talking there in the morning for years.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. Neset had told me about her encounters on the stairs with Father during our tour at Pi–Ramesses. He hadn’t taken her from me after all. “I’m going to marry her, Ramesses.”
“Father will never approve.”
The same thing Neset always said.
“Why not? I’m of no use to him. Why shouldn’t he let me live my life?”
“You’ll have to ask him,” Ramesses said. “I’m sure he has plans for you. A political marriage, no doubt.”
“What about you, Brother? If you were crowned Pharaoh tomorrow would you let me marry Neset?”
“Maybe. Probably not until after I’d arranged a few political marriages for you of my own.”
“With women like the ones at this party?” I practically sneered.
“I recall banquets when you willingly took women like these to your bed, Pentawere. Some of these very women, in fact.”
“Not anymore, Brother.”
“You’re actually being faithful to this Neset?”
“I have been so far.”
“You’re not tempted to stray tonight? She’d never find out.”
I had been, a few minutes ago. I wasn’t going to admit it to him. “No.”
Ramesses shook his head. “How long since you’ve seen Neset?”
“A couple of months.”
“I predict the longer you’re apart the less hold she’ll have on you, Pentawere. A month from now you won’t even remember her name.”
“You’re wrong,” I said.
He chuckled. “Based on past experience, I doubt it.”
“How about you?” I asked sharply. “You’re apart from Duatentopet for months at a time. Have you ever forgotten her name?”
“Of course not. But she’s the only woman I’ve ever had. She’s been my wife for more than twenty–five years. And my sister since the day she was born.”
Ramesses was so sanctimonious. He was making me angry. Probably because I was afraid he might be right. It was hard being apart from Neset. Especially in the face of her deafening silence. I’d never been faithful to any woman before. Could I be faithful to her? Could I resist temptation? I had so far, with Tjuyu. But there were many more women like her at this party. Women I’d tasted before. Would I have the strength to push another away if she cornered me? I had to get out of here to save myself from myself. “Goodnight, Brother,” I said.
“Leaving so soon?”
“I have weapons facilities to see to at first light.” And I’ve had all of you I can stand.
***
Shemu (Harvest)
Neset
***
The royal barque approached Mennefer, the valley’s ancient capital, founded by Horus Narmer close to two millennia ago. Grandfather and I had been drifting north on the massive and elaborate vessel the past two weeks along with Pharaoh and his family and his highest ranking officials. We were going to participate in Ramesses’ Heb–Sed, a ceremony of renewal marking his thirtieth year on the throne. Practically everyone of importance in the valley was gathering at Mennefer. The river was crowded with vessels.
Pharaoh had ordered Grandfather and me to accompany him so we could arrange the flowers for the ceremony. There wasn’t a particularly good reason for Pharaoh to want us at the Heb–Sed, except that he loved to be surrounded by women at all times, and I’d – incredibly – become one of his favorites. Tiye had made it clear when she encountered me on deck shortly after our departure from Djeme that she wasn’t pleased to see me. Unfortunately, I hadn’t been able to stay out of her way or the rest of the royal wives during the journey. I’d spent hours every day sitting on a cushion under the canopy in front of Pharaoh’s cabin along with his family and barbarian concubines and their translator, for so he had commanded me. My presence had reinforced Tiye’s contention that Pharaoh desired me. She’d seethed every time she saw me near him, watched me with hate–filled eyes. Tiye might have separated me from her son but she was powerless to keep me from the vicinity of her husband. She still clearly believed Ramesses would eventually make me his fourth wife. One of her women had shadowed me any time I wasn’t under the canopy, no doubt to ensure I didn’t sneak off for a tryst with Pharaoh.
But I had no interest in Pharaoh. Pentawere still occupied my thoughts, far more than he should. Half a year had passed since he’d resolved the strike by Ta Set Maat’s workers and returned to Pi–Ramesses. I hadn’t seen him since. He’d confessed his love the day of the Isis festival. He’d asked me to wait for him until he returned to Djeme, to give love between us a chance to bloom. I’d agreed. But then, a few hours later, Tiye had declared war on me. Her threats had prevented me from seeing him off at the quay, as I’d promised. Surely that had planted a seed in Pentawere’s mind that I’d already lost interest in him. Doubtless, once Pentawere had settled in at Pi–Ramesses, Tiye had ensured an endless stream of beautiful and willing and high–ranking women made themselves available to him, watering that seed, making it grow. Sometimes, at night, I’d imagined them at his parties, and in his arms. Those nights I hadn’t slept, jealous. Which was ridiculous. I’d known we could never be together even before Tiye threatened me, which was why I hadn’t given Pentawere my heart. He was destined to marry women of importance. Tiye and Pharaoh would see to it. If they even had to. For all I knew, he’d already moved on from me and taken up with one of his mother’s choices. Or a woman he’d encountered by chance. I hadn’t received a message from Pentawere in six months. That was a crystal clear sign his love for me had not withstood time and distance. As hard as that was to accept, I knew it was for the best – for both of us. Why cling to the impossible? I assumed he’d attend the Heb–Sed; it was too important and rarely celebrated for him to miss. He’d have no reason to suspect I’d be attending, so he wouldn’t look for me. I vowed to avoid Pentawere at all costs. I’d given him up; seeing him would reopen a wound that was taking a frustratingly long time to heal.
We passed the mouth of a canal that led directly west to intersect with a north–south canal that comprised Mennefer’s western boundary. There were on the narrow plain between that canal and the steep bluffs that loomed over the valley a number of memorial temples built by various pharaohs, similar to those on the west bank at home, but much smaller. Mud–brick tombs dating to the time of King Aha, Narmer’s son, my ancestor, stood at the very edge of the bluff, sentinels of a city of the dead. For behind those tombs stretched the Saqqara plateau, its centerpiece the Step Pyramid complex of King Netjeryket, surrounded by many much smaller pyramids and individual tombs of kings and their wives and officials.
I spotted the first of the city’s houses. Mennefer spread for several miles along the west bank of the river, occupying a narrow plain. Before long, oarsmen rowed us into a small harbor that served Pharaoh’s per’aa. Like all of his predecessors, Ramesses had constructed a harbor and per’aa of his own in the royal section of the capital. Theirs, abandoned, were located both north and south of his. Oarsmen poled us to the quay and waiting men tied the barque to mooring posts. The quay was crowded with important courtiers and guards and a high priest or two. The banks of the harbor and the lane that connected it to the per’aa were lined with priests and minor officials and hundreds of commoners hoping to catch a glimpse of Pharaoh. The royals disembarked first, followed by the most important officials. Grandfather and I were among the last to descend the gangplank. While we waited I studied the skyline. Half a mile west of the per’aa red banners fluttered in the breeze atop the flagpoles of Ptah’s temple, Hut–ka–ptah – “Enclosure of the Ka of Ptah” – the most prominent structure in the city. Its pylons towered over every other building.
Grandfather and I didn’t waste time going to our room in the per’aa. We had too much work to do before the Heb–Sed began at dawn tomorrow. We headed directly to the temple. Grandfather needed to go over details with the overseers of the girls who’d provide garlands to chantresses and royals marching in the procession, and those who’d decorate the dark recesses of Ptah’s temple and bedeck the shrines of the valley’s gods before the ceremony – we’d stopped at every major temple on our way north to collect their statues. I intended to go over each and every bouquet and garland and bunch of flowers to make sure they were fresh and properly arranged and appropriate for the assorted rituals.
We walked directly west. I looked about with wonder. Tall cedar gates in tall walls surrounding houses of high officials were clad with copper and shone brightly. The crowded noisy streets were broad, shaded by tall trees, cut by narrow canals spanned by wooden bridges, dotted with cool gardens, lined with magnificent limestone and mud–brick buildings, their outer walls etched and brightly painted with scenes and narratives recounting the might and deeds of pharaohs who’d ruled here at Mennefer, particularly Ramesses the Great. His colossal statues were omnipresent.
“Over there, to the left, are three structures built by the second Ramesses,” Grandfather told me. “A chapel dedicated to himself, a temple to Hathor – it’s spectacular – the top of every column is the head of Hathor, brightly painted. And finally, a temple Ramesses built to honor Ptah. I’ve never been inside; it’s reserved for pharaohs’ private worship.”
We soon reached the towering wall that surrounded the temple of the god who’d been Mennefer’s patron since its founding. Ptah had imagined the cosmos, then created it by giving voice to his thoughts. Horus–Narmer had constructed Ptah’s original shrine on this spot nearly two millennia ago at the time of unification when he founded the city. Or, more precisely, my ancestor Djem, his brother, had. Over time Djem�
��s simple mud and reed shrine had evolved into a magnificent complex of stone.
We walked around the temple to its west side and approached its main gate at the end of a broad boulevard paved with stone. I couldn’t see anything of the temple from so close; the walls were far too high to see over. The gate was flanked by tall pylons. Four gold–tipped flagpoles bearing red linen pennants, and eight colossal statues of Ramesses the Great wearing the White Crown and striding forward, stood before the pylons. Each statue was more than thirty feet high.
“This temple’s been enriched by centuries of veneration,” Grandfather told me. “The third Thutmose heavily endowed it with booty from his campaigns, and Ramesses the Great completely rebuilt it. It’s one of the three most important temples in our land, along with Re’s at Iunu just up the river and Amen’s in Waset.”
We entered the grounds. I was amazed. The walls circumscribed a massive area containing Ptah’s very large temple and several small chapels and mud–brick support structures and an extensive courtyard. Priests had assembled dozens of temporary shrines along the courtyard walls for the gods’ barques to rest in during the Heb–Sed ceremony. Priests were at present carrying barques through the gate and into the courtyard, each barque accompanied by a plethora of priests and a cloud of incense and chantresses shaking sistrums. My attention was drawn to an alabaster sphinx in the center of the courtyard; I guessed it to be more than twenty–five feet high. I was used to the much smaller sphinxes that lined the route between Ipet–Isut and Ipet–Resyt at Waset. The only larger sphinx I’d ever seen was the massive one at the edge of the Giza plateau.
Grandfather pointed to the west end of the court. “Over there’s a small chapel erected by the first Seti and spared from demolition by Ramesses the Great during his reconstruction of this temple. It honors Ptah and the city’s gods, Mennefer and Tjesemet. She’s represented with an image of the temple’s wall atop her head – people believe the wall can hear their prayers. Supposedly the chapel’s walls are among the most beautifully carved in the valley, but only pharaohs and high priests can enter so I don’t know if it’s true.”
The Gardener and the Assassin Page 31
