The Gardener and the Assassin

by Mark Gajewski

  Shockingly, she embraced me, tears in her eyes too. “I thought you were dead, Neset! When you ripped off your wig I was so happy. That you were willing to sacrifice your life for Ramesses at the trial meant so much to us both. He honored you to his dying day. But that you’ve been alive all this time means so much more. I’ve agonized about you for years. I regretted I hadn’t tried harder to save you.”

  “You couldn’t have, without putting Pharaoh at risk. I never expected you to try to help me, Majesty. My only regret was I never got a chance to tell you how much your visit meant to me when I was imprisoned. You gave me hope when I’d about given up.”

  “That was such an awful time,” Duatentopet said. “Father dead. You sentenced to burn. So many conspirators who’d turned against us. We had no idea who to trust. I don’t think Ramesses ever felt secure again. And rightfully so. Anyway, I commissioned a statue for your ka, like I promised. It’s in Ramesses’ tomb, beside his sarcophagus.”

  “I’m very sorry for your losses, Majesty,” I said sincerely. “Pharaoh was very good to me. And your son was a fine boy.”

  “My husband lived longer than any of our brothers. But his life was far too short. And my son’s even shorter.” She sighed. “It seems you’re still in the habit of saving members of my family, Neset.”

  “Kairy was mostly responsible today. He gave up a decade of his life to ferret those priests out.”

  Duatentopet sized up Pen, standing a few feet away. “Is this the pretender?”

  “Just a boy who was mistreated by a bunch of ambitious men. He’s not a pretender,” Aya said defensively. “Majesty.” Pen was firmly under her wing now whether he wanted to be or not.

  “My apologies,” Duatentopet said. “You’re right.”

  “This is my daughter Aya, Majesty. She brings me much joy. Usually. Aya, this is Duatentopet, Great Wife of Ramesses, fourth of his name, Mother of Ramesses, fifth of his name. Daughter of Ramesses, third of his name. Formerly Chantress of Khonsu and God’s Wife of Amen.”

  “Majesty.” Aya bowed low.

  Duatentopet raised her up. She looked her over, stroked her long hair affectionately. “Aya is going to be absolutely stunning, Neset.” Then she embraced her. “I’m not Majesty, Aya. I’m Aunt. You’ll come visit me in Djeme so we can get to know each other?”

  “Can we, Mama?”

  “I hope so.” Though it was likely I wouldn’t survive this day. Possibly not her either. But I didn’t want to frighten Aya. Or myself.

  More royals passed by, headed towards the sunscreen amidships. Duatentopet bid us goodbye and joined them.

  Not long afterwards a guard presented himself. “You’ve been summoned by His Majesty.”

  Aya and Pen and I proceeded to Pharaoh’s sunscreen amidships, me with a growing sense of dread. He was seated on a throne, flanked by the Greatest of Craftsmen and the Greatest of Seers and First God’s Servant of Amen and the high priests of Horus and Nekhbet and his son Itamun and Vizier Neferronpet. All were seated on chairs. I halted directly in front of Pharaoh and bowed. Aya bowed as well. I noticed that when she straightened she smiled beatifically at Itamun. Caught off guard, he blushed.

  Pentawere moved next to Kairy.

  “These men are going to advise me about what to do with you, Neset,” Pharaoh said.

  So. Pharaoh wasn’t going to decide himself. In effect, he was washing his hands of me after Aya and I had saved his throne. At least he hadn’t mentioned Aya. Perhaps her life wasn’t at risk after all.

  Nebmose gazed at me sympathetically. We’d been well–acquainted for years. We’d become friends after I created the garden for Horus’ temple.

  Vizier Neferronpet regarded me with the same distrust he’d shown during my original trial.

  Ramesesnakht stood. He was apparently going to prosecute me. Better him than Neferronpet. “Neset’s fate is clear, Majesty. The Great Kenbet sentenced her to burn. She escaped her fate instead of facing it. Escape, even for a decade, does not change the verdict. You have no choice but to carry out her sentence.”

  My heart fell. Exactly what I’d expected.

  Ramesesnakht’s eyes narrowed. His glance fell on Kairy. “Anyone who circumvented the will of the Great Kenbet should receive the same punishment.”

  I heard the sharp intake of Pentawere’s breath. He grabbed Kairy tightly around the waist. Kairy rested his hand reassuringly on the boy’s shoulder.

  “Especially since you ignored my explicit order,” Vizier Neferronpet added angrily.

  “You ordered me to kill Neset’s son, Vizier,” Kairy replied calmly. “Neset gave birth to a daughter.”

  “Semantics. You understood the intent,” Neferronpet snapped.

  “Let’s get back to the issue at hand,” Ramesesnakht said. “Neset must die. And, apparently, Kairy.”

  “Neset’s conviction was in error, Priest.” Duatentopet moved beside me and addressed Ramesesnakht.

  I hadn’t expected her to take up for me. I was touched.

  “Neset confessed during the trial,” Ramesesnakht argued. “I was standing in the crowd in the audience hall. I heard her. She admitted she’d plotted with Tiye and Pentawere to assassinate the third Ramesses – life, health, prosperity, justified.”

  “Neset did indeed confess,” Duatentopet admitted. “But she was convicted by the Kenbet because of her words. Not because of her deeds.”

  “I don’t get the distinction,” Ramesesnakht said.

  “Neset was no more involved in the plot to kill my father than you were, Priest. She lied and said she was because Horus had warned her in a dream that my husband would be convicted of my father’s death if she didn’t.”

  “Ridiculous! I remember what Neset testified at the trial – first she said she’d seen the Great Kenbet convict the fourth Ramesses of murdering his father. Then, to escape a beating, she confessed she’d used magic and had been part of the conspiracy to assassinate your father and your husband.”

  “Explain your testimony to the priest, Neset,” Duatentopet said.

  I clutched the talisman. “The falcon god sends dreams to those who bear this talisman, Excellency. The one he sent me showed the fourth Ramesses being wrongly convicted of murder unless I implicated the real murderers. To do that convincingly, I had to claim I’d plotted alongside Tiye and Pentawere. I sacrificed myself so the judges would believe they’d assassinated the third Ramesses.”

  “Very noble,” Neferronpet muttered.

  “Very necessary,” Duatentopet corrected. “Besides, Vizier, weren’t you the one who insisted on using Neset as bait to draw out Pentawere’s remaining supporters after Pharaoh’s wife Iset prevented you from executing her along with the other conspirators? Didn’t you use her as a tool, just like Horus did? And didn’t you conspire with my husband and my son to send Kairy along with Neset’s child to live among the traitors to ferret them out?”

  “Does Her Majesty speak the truth?” Ramesesnakht asked.

  “Yes, Excellency,” Kairy replied. “That’s why the fourth Ramesses ordered Neset moved to her estate, where she’d be vulnerable to the first attack. And why Pharaoh and I staged a bitter argument in his audience hall, so his other challengers would approach me.”

  “We did indeed approve your plan to deliver Neset’s son to the traitors,” Neferronpet reiterated. “But you didn’t tell us that Neset was going to give birth to a daughter. You didn’t tell us you were going to switch her daughter with a farmer’s boy. You didn’t tell us you were going to fake Neset’s death. You did all that without Pharaoh’s or my permission.”

  “I did,” Kairy admitted. “But if I’d delivered Aya to the traitors instead of an imposter Bek would have killed her and me and found some other boy to play the part – he thought Neset was dead, so he wouldn’t have feared anyone challenging his imposter. If Neset hadn’t been in the oval court today to confirm Aya is her daughter, Bek’s challenge might have turned out far differently. His Majesty might be under arrest or conde
mned to death. Or already dead.”

  “Neset deserves your accolades, Brother, not death,” Duatentopet said firmly. “She saved my husband’s life twice. Today she saved your life and our line – without regard for what might happen to her.”

  Ramesesnakht plopped down in his seat. He leaned close to Pharaoh and whispered in his ear. Pharaoh then conferred with Neferronpet. Neferronpet made a few points, heatedly. He had it in for me and he wasn’t giving up. Pharaoh replied to him, then straightened. Neferronpet didn’t look pleased.

  “It is my judgment that my brother, Ramesses, fourth of his name, did in fact allow you to be convicted of a crime you did not commit in order to save our house, Neset. Had you not faked Neset’s death, Kairy, today could have turned out far differently, as you pointed out. I owe you both a debt of gratitude. Go forth, now, freely in the valley, wherever you will, Neset and Kairy. Your sentence of death is commuted, Neset. For what you have done this day and this past decade, Kairy and Neset, you will both receive suitable rewards.”

  I was stunned. Tears sprang to my eyes. “Thank you, Majesty.” After a long terrifying decade my life was finally my own again. I was gloriously free.

  Aya hugged me tightly.

  “But what are we going to do about the girl, Majesty?” Neferronpet asked sharply.

  I immediately tensed. Aya released me and faced Pharaoh.

  “Only the gods know how many more enemies are lurking in this valley, Majesty,” Neferronpet argued. “We can’t afford to let one of them kidnap Aya and force her to marry him and claim the throne through her. Or her child.”

  “A very real possibility,” Ramesesnakht added. Apparently he hadn’t been in favor of letting me go free either.

  “Majesty, you must execute Aya immediately!” Neferronpet insisted heatedly. “End the threat she poses to you and your descendants here and now.”

  “Aya’s only ten years old!” I burst out. Neferronpet had shifted his enmity from me to my daughter. He was a relentless bloodthirsty monster. “She’s innocent, Majesty! You can’t kill her! She just saved you!”

  “Majesty, there is no other option,” Neferronpet insisted.

  “Of course there is,” Aya said sweetly. She smiled at Pharaoh.

  The vizier turned towards her, angry she’d had the temerity to challenge him.

  She smiled at him too.

  That made him angrier.

  Pharaoh seemed amused. “What option do you foresee that my vizier does not, Niece?”

  “The vizier was correct when he said one of your enemies could kidnap me and marry me to try to gain the throne through me. But he couldn’t if I was already married.”

  Pharaoh leaned back in his throne. “You have a suitable husband picked out to eliminate the threat to my line, I assume?”

  “Of course, Majesty. My great–grandfather Meniufer protected your father during his wars. My mother protected your brother and you. I protected you and your line today too. I can continue to protect it. And raise up children to extend it as well. Give me to the Falcon in the Nest as wife.”

  Vizier Neferronpet nearly exploded. “Impossible!”

  Ramesesnakht echoed him.

  Itamun’s face reddened.

  Half the people under the sunscreen were appalled, the rest intrigued.

  “Not so impossible, Brother,” Duatentopet pointed out. “Aya does share our royal blood.”

  Pharaoh pondered for a moment. “Did you think this up all on your own, Aya? Or did someone put you up to it?”

  “The falcon god, Majesty. Horus. He sent me a dream when I was five years old and I’ve had it many times since.”

  “Ah! One of your famous family dreams,” Neferronpet said scathingly.

  “You dreamed?” I asked Aya, shocked. “But I’m the talisman bearer.”

  “Maetkra received her dream before she was a bearer, didn’t she?”

  “True. But no one else ever did.”

  “Until now, Mama.”

  “What dream did Horus send you?” Pharaoh inquired.

  “I saw myself marrying a man who was seated on a throne atop a dais, Majesty. I saw a priest placing a vulture crown on my head. I recognized that man the moment he walked into the oval court today. Your son.” She addressed Itamun. “Don’t worry, Majesty. In my dream we’re both deliriously happy.”

  Pharaoh burst out laughing.

  Itamun’s red deepened.

  Aya regarded him boldly, without guile.

  I took a deep breath. Aya, a pharaoh’s wife? Her marriage arranged by the falcon god? She wouldn’t be the first woman in our family to be a ruler’s wife. That had been our ancestress Benerib, married to Horus Aha. A woman who’d trod Nekhen’s oval court at Horus Narmer’s side. It was almost too incredible to believe. Would Pharaoh agree?

  Pharaoh glanced at his advisors. “Well?”

  “It would solve the problem,” Neferronpet grudgingly admitted.

  “Whether the idea was Horus’ or someone else’s,” Ramesesnakht added.

  “Itamun,” Pharaoh called.

  “Father?” Itamun responded hesitantly. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere else in the valley but here.

  “You’ll take Aya as your wife, today. You’ll wait to consummate your marriage until she reaches a suitable age. She’ll be your great wife when you follow me on the throne.”

  “As you wish, Father.”

  Pharaoh smiled. “Aya, Daughter, you’ll join my progression tomorrow and travel the valley with me and your new husband. I’ll announce your marriage to my officials tonight during the banquet Governor Kanefer is giving for my coronation. You and Neset shall attend – and your entire family, Kairy.” Pharaoh rose. “Now, Kairy, I’d like to confer with you privately about the traitors and what you’ve endured this past decade. Come with me into my cabin.”

  ***

  A few hours later Aya and I entered the small audience hall in the governor’s quarters with Pen in tow. He hadn’t left my side since we’d departed the royal barque. Kairy had placed him in my care, then gone off to talk with Pharaoh. The three of us had spent the time in Ani’s hut near the temple, me mostly marveling at how Aya had bested Vizier Neferronpet and convinced Pharaoh to make her his son’s wife. Pen was lost and confused and afraid and surly, feeling abandoned. Aya had been doing her best to put him at ease and cheer him up, with little success. We were the first guests to arrive. The rather small hall had already been set up for feasting, two–person tables for officials and other guests arranged facing a single row where the royals would sit. Torches and wicks flaming in bowls of oil provided light. A few serving girls scurried about, seeing to last–minute arrangements.

  “For many years I decorated Djeme’s per’aa for banquets,” I told Aya and Pen while we waited for everyone else to arrive. “The third Ramesses preferred for me to arrange his flowers. But his hall was magnificent, dwarfing this one, every wall and column brightly decorated with colorful images etched and painted. Copper and gold shone everywhere.”

  “If I was governor I’d summon craftsmen and decorate every wall,” Aya said. “Like our rooms on the estate. I don’t think Kanefer cares about such things.”

  “There used to be a per’aa in Nekhen, Aya. The original was erected during Amenia’s time, more than two millennia ago. Just think – our ancestors saw it when it was new. The second version too, erected on the same site by King Horus Narmer after he unified the valley. He actually feasted there. So did our ancestors Djem and Horus Aha. And Aha’s great wife Benerib.”

  “I thought you were from Waset,” Pen said.

  “My ancestress Tiaa settled in Nekhen nearly three thousand years ago,” Aya replied. “Her descendants moved to the delta about five hundred years later. I’ll tell you some stories about what Nekhen was like long ago sometime.”

  “Why would I care about Nekhen? Kairy and I will be leaving soon and going back to the oasis with Mother.”

  “Oasis?” Aya asked.

  “In t
he western desert.”

  “Nekhen is Kairy’s home,” I said gently. “You lived in the oasis because Kairy was trying to trap the traitors. Now that he has you won’t be going back there. The fourth Ramesses gave him a fine estate a mile from town. You’ll probably live there with his brother and sister and nieces and nephews. Unless Pharaoh gives him a position in Djeme.”

  That silenced Pen. More uncertainty piled on his young shoulders. I felt sorry for him. Though I had no idea what was in store for Kairy either. Would he take over the estate he’d given to Ani and Iput? That made sense. But if he did, what would happen to me? Aya, of course, would live in Djeme from now on. I wasn’t related to Kairy. Would he want me on his estate, especially once he brought Maia there? I supposed it would be best for me to go with Aya. Perhaps Pharaoh would let me oversee my old garden inside Djeme. I’d given my estate to Nauny and Wabhket. They’d probably let me live with them. I’d miss Beketaten and Iput and Ani and the whole extended family desperately. But Nekhen was only a few day’s journey from Djeme by water. I could visit any time I got too lonely.

  Aya and I sat down at adjoining tables, her to my left with Pentawere between us. Officials began trickling in and positioning themselves as close to the royal row as possible. Beketaten and her girls entered the hall along with Ani and Iput and her vast family. Ahmes–Nefertari grabbed a jar of beer from one of the serving girls and hurried to our tables.

  “Would you like me to pour your beer, Majesty?” she asked Aya playfully.

  Word of Aya’s marriage had apparently spread.

  Aya grabbed a chunk of bread from a platter and laughingly tossed it at her.

  “Pour mine,” Pentawere directed.

  “Why would I do that?” Ahmes–Nefertari asked, incredulous. “You might have thought you were a pharaoh growing up, but you weren’t and you certainly aren’t.”

  “Don’t be cruel, Cousin,” Aya admonished. “Pen’s going to have to adjust to so much. Being in Nekhen is strange for him. And he doesn’t know any of us.”

  What I loved most about Aya was her big heart. She instinctively understood that Pen was frightened and unsure of himself and lonely despite acting high and mighty.