“Let me guess. Kairy told you about them.”
“He did.”
Debhen glared at me with a look that said I’d exceeded my authority.
I didn’t care what he thought. I’d told Pentawere stories almost every night around our campfire, even before he was old enough to fully understand. Many had been drawn from the stories Neset had recorded on papyri during her imprisonment. Others had been handed down in my family. Maia had taken as keen an interest in what I’d had to say as Pentawere. She’d also participated in his writing lessons. She’d been a quick learner. We hadn’t let any of the priests know about her hard–earned capability. They’d be less guarded around her that way.
“Anyway, one afternoon one of the third Ramesses’ traders staggered into Pi–Ramesses. He reported that his entire caravan had been captured by wretches and almost all of his men had been killed. By dawn the next day your father was leading his cavalry in pursuit. After about a week of traveling in the desert your father’s scouts reported the barbarians were camped a quarter mile ahead, around a bend in a wadi. Without even waiting for his men, your father charged into the wadi on horseback, catching the enemy by surprise. He slew many, then demanded that the rest lay down their arms. By now his men were thundering into the wadi after him. So the wretches surrendered.”
“What happened then?”
“Your father recovered all the stolen wine. Then he personally executed all the wretches except one, telling him to slink back to his people and report the fate that awaited them if they ever stole from Pharaoh again. Then your father returned to the valley in triumph and was honored by his father.”
Interesting embellishments. Debhen must be aware I knew what had actually happened in the wadi and afterwards. His claim that Pentawere had single–handedly defeated the wretches was false and absurd. He’d delivered the prisoners to his father for judgment and hadn’t executed them himself. And he’d been chastised by the fourth Ramesses for using the cavalry to go after the wretches, not honored. I’d been present, so I knew that for a fact. I sensed Debhen might be using the story to test me, to see if I’d attempt to debunk the myth he was creating about the first Pentawere. If he was, he must be uncertain that I was truly committed to the traitors’ quest. Challenging his account would raise questions. So I remained silent. But I realized he and the other priests were going to fill Pentawere’s mind with similar inaccuracies and half–truths as they “educated” him and molded him into their puppet. Somehow, I was going to have to subtly counteract them, provide a more balanced view of the world. I made a note to enlist Maia in that effort. Pentawere would take her word above all others.
Pentawere’s eyes were shining. “I want to lead an army too.”
“You shall, Majesty,” Debhen said.
“And you’ll fight by my side, Kairy?” Pentawere asked.
“I will, Majesty.” Like the rest, I’d fallen in line and was using the royal title. Only Maia refused to address him by anything except his name, at least in the privacy of our hut. She wasn’t about to let the priests turn her son into a monster if she could help it.
“If you’re going to command armies you need your rest, Majesty,” I told Pentawere. “Tell everyone goodnight.”
He did, grudgingly, then went inside our hut.
I addressed Debhen. “I’ll be leaving for the cataract in two days, My Lord. I expect I’ll be gone for at least three months. I’ve ordered workmen to erect several barracks for the new troops while I’m away, and a stable for their horses.”
“I’ve ordered,” Nehi interrupted.
“Yes. Of course, Commander. They’ll be ready by the time I return.”
“Bring me fierce fighters, Kairy. Fierce!” Debhen charged. “When we challenge Pharaoh we’ll have to compensate for lack of numbers with terror.”
“I’ll spend your gold wisely, My Lord.”
“Make sure the mercenaries aren’t too stupid to train,” Nehi sniffed. “I don’t want wretches holding back my men.”
I welcomed Nehi’s bigoted attitude. It increased the odds I’d be able to make the mercenaries loyal to me instead of him. “I’ll make a point of it, Commander.”
Maia materialized out of the darkness and joined us and seated herself cross–legged next to me. I thought she looked particularly lovely tonight. Her hair was still wet and damply clung to her shoulders.
Debhen sipped at his wine. He regarded Maia lasciviously. “Tell me about yourself, Maia. How did you come to be in this village?”
I tensed, as I always did when one of the priests questioned Maia. Had he guessed at the deception she and I had been practicing the past five years? If he accused her, would she panic and give us away? What would happen to her and Pentawere and me if she did?
“My first husband, Alara, tried to kidnap Pentawere’s mother before he was born,” Maia said.
“He was one of Pentawere’s supporters?” Debhen asked, surprised.
“And a very fine man, My Lord. He died in service to our true Pharaoh.”
I marveled at how coolly Maia was lying. I relaxed. She wasn’t going to give anything away.
“Alara knew the fourth Ramesses wasn’t fit to sit the throne, My Lord. He wanted Pentawere’s son to rule instead. But Pharaoh’s men killed Alara during the kidnapping attempt. Alara left me pregnant and alone. My family and everyone I knew abandoned me because of what they considered Alara’s treason. Treason! Can you believe their blindness, My Lord?”
“Unfortunately, blindness is rampant in the valley these days,” Debhen said, shaking his head.
She’d won him over. “I practically starved in the months after Alara died. I became so weak my daughter died in childbirth. Kairy appeared at my hovel a day after I buried her and asked if I’d be wetnurse to Pentawere’s son.”
“How did you know of Maia’s situation?” Debhen asked me sharply. He might not be suspicious of Maia, but he was of me.
“Alara served under me, guarding Neset’s estate, My Lord. He’d mentioned that his wife was pregnant. When Neset went into labor, it occurred to me that her son would need a wetnurse after I delivered him to Neby. That brought Maia to mind. I went to her hovel, expecting she’d have a newborn. I’d intended to bring him or her along.” I gazed at Maia, feigning sympathy. “Unfortunately, it didn’t work out that way.”
“When Kairy asked me to be Pentawere’s wetnurse I jumped at the chance to get revenge on Pharaoh, My Lord. Alara’s death was his fault. So Kairy brought me to Neset’s estate, and together we delivered Pentawere to Neby. You know the rest.”
Debhen glanced sideways at me. “How long have you been Kairy’s wife, Maia.”
“Four years, My Lord.” She took hold of my arm with her fingers. “We’ve been raising Pentawere together.”
“Yes. Well, I’ll be personally conducting his training beginning tomorrow. He’ll be sleeping in my hut from now on, so I can educate him night and day.”
Maia’s fingers tightened on my bicep. “I understand, My Lord,” she said evenly. But her eyes said she wasn’t going to surrender Pentawere to Debhen’s influence without a fight.
At dawn two days later I set out on horseback for the wastes south of the cataract. Maia had cried much of the previous night, the first since Pentawere’s birth that she hadn’t slept in the same hut as him. My timing was atrocious – she’d never needed me more to keep her company by day and comfort her at night, and I was going to be gone for months. I felt extremely guilty as I bid her goodbye at the door of our hut.
“Hurry back to me, My Love,” she whispered after she kissed me. She placed my hand low on her belly. “To me and our daughter.”
***
Peret (Seed)
Neset
***
I was tending the garden in front of Horus’ temple. I’d designed and planted it a couple of years ago, not long after my encounter with Nakhtamen at the riverside market. I’d decided that day to stop confining myself to a prison of my own making
. Since then I’d begun to go into Nekhen on occasion, for festivals and such, and to tend this garden one day a week. I’d also taken up healing again. Because of that I’d become acquainted with many of Nekhen’s residents, though I went out of my way not to stand out.
Aya and Ahmes–Nefertari were helping me in the garden, as usual. They were inseparable and both loved to work among the flowers. Usually Ahmes–Nefertari’s two year–old sister, Wabhket, toddled after them, but she’d remained on the estate today. Beketaten was pregnant again; both of her daughters were hoping for another sister. If Ani wanted a son he had sense enough not to say so out loud.
Watching the sun warm Aya’s red curls, I touched my fingers to my talisman and thanked the falcon god for keeping her alive and bringing her to Nekhen. A year ago, right after she turned four, I’d started teaching her about the talisman and telling her the family stories – except for the story of my life, which I’d hold in reserve until she was much older. In part, to keep her safe. In part because I wasn’t sure yet how it was going to end. Frustratingly, the falcon god had never again sent me the dream featuring the pretender and Kairy. I still had no idea how that event was going to turn out, or if I’d even be present. Fortunately, if I was discovered and executed before Aya knew everything she needed to about me and her ancestors, the stories were all recorded in my scrolls. Beketaten had promised to tell Aya all about me, at the same time assuring me that my fear of being discovered and dragged away to be executed was nonsense.
I’d enjoyed exploring Nekhen with Aya these past years – visiting Tiaa and Ipu and Amenia’s kiln on the heights, the ruins of the house where Amenia had grown up on the upper terrace, the remnants of the rulers’ cemetery, the ancient etchings beyond counting on rock faces on the heights ringing the settlement, the treasures inside the temple storeroom. I’d first told Aya about the talisman as she was sitting on my lap on the top step of the stone dais in the oval court. I’d barely finished when a falcon swooped low in front of us. To me it had been a sign the god was still present and watching over me and my daughter.
We’d been working for several hours when I caught sight of Ani hurrying towards the temple, clutching a rolled up papyrus in his hand.
“We need to talk, Neset,” he said grimly. “Inside the temple. Not here.”
“You girls keep working,” I told Aya and Ahmes–Nefertari. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Ani ducked into the treasure room and I followed.
“Pharaoh’s dead,” he said bluntly as soon as we were alone.
“No!” I wanted to be sick. Too soon! Were the events that would lead to challenging his line already in motion? But they couldn’t be. The boy Kairy had substituted for Aya was only five years old or so. The pretender was older in my dream.
“Only six years on the throne,” Ani said. “Still, Ramesses was almost fifty.”
“He wasn’t the pharaoh in my dream, Ani,” I assured him. “That’s clear to me now.”
“I hope you’re right, Neset. Because Nekhen’s going to be the first stop on the fifth Ramesses’ progression. He’d coming here to be crowned in the oval court next month, like his father was. And to accept the fealty of local officials.”
I sat down on the floor, careful not to disturb the treasures all around me. “Either he’ll come here for another reason in a few years and be challenged, or his successor is the pharaoh in my dream. I wish I knew which.”
Ani sat next to me and held up the papyrus. “Our new pharaoh sent me this message. It sheds light on what Kairy did and why. And raises far too many new questions.” He unrolled it and began to read.
After Kairy rounded up Pentawere’s supporters who’d tried to kidnap Neset and her unborn son, he met with me and Father and Vizier Neferronpet. We agreed that other traitors might try the same thing after Neset gave birth. Essentially, Kairy agreed to act as bait to draw them out. So he and Father pretended to have a massive argument in the audience hall that very day. Afterwards, Kairy went to Waset and got drunk and disparaged Father to all who would listen. As we’d hoped, a traitor approached Kairy. Kairy agreed to deliver Neset’s son to the traitor as soon as he was born and Neset was burned. Our plan was that Kairy would go along with the boy and pretend to be a traitor and live among them until he could identify them. Then he’d return to Djeme and report their names so Father could arrest them.
Vizier Neferronpet insisted that Kairy kill Neset’s son before he fled from wherever the traitors were hiding. He said that was the only way to make sure Pentawere’s line died out for sure. Kairy promised he would.
I was stunned. “Kairy obviously delivered some other woman’s baby boy to the traitors and claimed he was my son. Did he do it simply because he didn’t want to kill Aya?”
“Maybe in part. Think it through, Neset,” Ani said calmly. “Kairy knew you were going to have a daughter. It’s clear from this message that Pharaoh and the vizier believed you were going to have a boy. So when Kairy agreed to act as bait he never told them differently. I believe trying to save Aya as well as Pharaoh was the reason. Everyone in the valley believes the boy is your son, including the traitors and Pharaoh’s courtiers. When Kairy kills him everyone will believe Pentawere’s line is dead. Everyone already believes you died and were burned. No one will ever come looking for Aya or you after the boy dies.”
“Do you really think Kairy would kill a helpless infant?”
“To save Pharaoh and you and Aya? I do.” Ani continued reading.
We haven’t heard from Kairy even once the past five years. Either he hasn’t identified the key traitors yet – a distinct possibility, if the highest ranking are keeping their participation in the plot secret – or something went wrong and the traitors have killed Kairy. In that case, the traitors have Pentawere’s son and can use him whenever they want against me and my line. It was a risk we thought worth taking when we came up with our plan; now it doesn’t look like such a good idea.
“Kairy’s still alive,” I said firmly. “I’ve seen him in my dream, Ani. So he’s going to be in the oval court along with priest and pretender. Up until now, I’ve feared Kairy’s going to tell Pharaoh that the pretender really is my son. Now it seems Kairy may kill him instead.”
“If he does the conspiracy will fail. Pharaoh will arrest and execute the traitors. You and Aya will be able to live in peace.”
“It’s so frustrating that I haven’t seen my entire dream, Ani. There’s another possibility we can’t discount. Since Pharaoh hasn’t heard from Kairy in five years he may have joined the traitors for real. Maybe they’ve promised him more than Pharaoh did as a reward. Maybe he’s going to help the priests put the pretender on the throne, not kill him.”
“If Kairy tries, you’ll be the only person who can refute him and make a convincing case the boy’s a pretender,” Ani said.
“But I didn’t see myself in my dream. If I’m not in the oval court when the priests challenge Pharaoh, and if Kairy supports the boy, the priests will probably be able to seize the throne. If I am in the court, and if Kairy says the boy’s my son, and if I challenge him, everyone will know I’m still alive. I’ll have to reveal that Aya exists too. If I do, the vizier will likely execute Aya, based on this message. I’ll be burned for sure, because I’m still under sentence from the Great Kenbet.” I sighed. “Once more, will I have to trade my life to ensure Pharaoh lives?”
“Let’s hope you’re wrong about Kairy joining the traitors,” Ani said. “It’d be out of character for him.” Ani continued reading.
I must continue to publicly portray the fiction that Kairy is a traitor and a wanted man, in case he is still alive and living among the traitors. I assure you, Ani, I consider Kairy to be a true friend. At any rate, with things so uncertain, the Amen Division will accompany me as I make my progression throughout the valley. I’ve sent a message to the governor of the Nekhen nome to make the arrangements.
“An unnecessary precaution, the Amen Division, assuming your dream
is true, Neset,” Ani said. “But maybe it’ll send a signal to the traitors and they’ll realize Pharaoh is prepared to deal with them and they’ll give up the idea of seizing his throne.”
“You don’t really believe that.”
“No. But please stay away from Nekhen during the ceremony, Neset,” Ani pleaded. “Many officials from Waset and Djeme will travel with Pharaoh. Someone may recognize you.”
Someone who wouldn’t look the other way, as Nakhtamen had.
“As you said, you’re still under sentence of death.”
“Something that haunts me every moment of every day, Ani. You’re right. I should stay away. But I can’t. Just in case my dream’s wrong. But I promise you I’ll leave the oval court as sure as I’m convinced Kairy’s not present to challenge Pharaoh.”
Ani sighed. “Be careful then.”
***
The morning of the ceremony Beketaten and I tried to enter the oval court to decorate the dais, each of us carrying several baskets of flowers I’d grown on the estate.
The leader of a squad of heavily armed soldiers halted us. “What’s your business here?”
The boats containing the royal family and officials and the Amen Division had arrived at Nekhen late yesterday afternoon. The vessels were moored along a half–mile section of riverbank. The soldiers had set up their camp nearby. They’d conspicuously ringed the oval court and town and camp immediately after their arrival. I’d been comforted by their presence – traitors would have to be very powerful to challenge such a host and, according to Ani, who’d spoken privately with Pharaoh last night, scouts had not sighted any force of men within miles of Nekhen.
“We’re supposed to decorate Pharaoh’s dais,” Beketaten replied.
The soldier squinted, suspicious. “No one told me.”
Beketaten rested her hand on her stomach. “Do you think I pose a threat to Pharaoh? A very pregnant woman? My husband is Ani, second prophet of Horus. You can go check if you don’t believe me. He’s attending Pharaoh.”
The Gardener and the Assassin Page 79
