Lady of the Two Lands Page 15

  Hatshepsut smiled tenderly. “Then you have learned a great lesson, have you not? Home and hearth mean nothing without love to warm them.”

  “So you will let me stay with him?” Hattie asked eagerly. “You will not send me back to Chicago?”

  “Oh, nay. I am afraid you must return here, to your home. Once I resume my life, there is no other place for you to go. Your spirit must have a body to inhabit, or it will flee to the afterlife. Surely, that is not what you wish?”

  Hattie frowned, and then slowly shook her head. “Nay, I do not wish to die. But I cannot live without Senemut. I love him. How am I to go on without him? Please, you must help me!”

  “Mayhap there is something I can do. I am not certain.” Hatshepsut paused. “You are sure you wish this?”

  Hattie nodded emphatically. “I am positive.”

  “Very well. This I promise—I will do all I can to see that you and Senemut will be together, though I know not if my powers extend that far. But I warn you…there will be heartbreak first. I cannot prevent it.” Hatshepsut’s image shimmered and grew transparent.

  “Wait!” Hattie cried. “What do you mean, there will be heartbreak first?”

  But it was too late. Hatshepsut had vanished.

  * * *

  “Hattie!”

  Someone was shaking her shoulder. She didn’t want to wake up, but the shaker was most persistent. At last, she opened her eyes grudgingly and saw Senemut leaning over her, a look of concern etched across his face. She smiled up at him, and he relaxed. “Why did you wake me? It is nowhere near dawn.”

  “You were crying out in your sleep as if the demons of Set were pursuing you.” He dropped a kiss onto her forehead. “I would not see you suffer so, even in dreams.”

  She leaned back into his arms and moaned as she recalled the fading images of her nightmare. “It was much worse than Set. I had returned to my own time, but I was alone there. I have never felt so bereft! May it please Amun to allow me to stay with you for all my life.” She shuddered.

  “Do not fear, little one,” Senemut murmured in her ear as he stroked her hair. “It will take more than a dream to tear me from your side. This I promise.”

  This I promise. Why did that sound so familiar? A sudden sense of dread washed over her. “Senemut, I am afraid…something is to happen to us, and I know not what. But it will be terrible and there is naught I can do to prevent it.”

  “Shh, nothing will happen to us. You are still frightened because of the images in your sleep. We are safe.” He kissed her again, this time on the lips. “Mayhap I know a way to make you forget your worry.”

  “Aye, Senemut,” she whispered. “Please, help me forget.”

  Senemut rolled over, covering her body with his. “My love,” he breathed, claiming her lips again.

  Fire leapt through her veins as she returned his kiss.

  Suddenly, the curtain flew aside and a dark figure darted into the room. “Watch out!” Hattie gasped, her voice muffled against his shoulder.

  Senemut tried to rise, but the figure was already at her bedside. She saw the intruder’s arm rise and fall savagely, and heard Senemut groan as he slumped down on top of her. “Senemut!” she cried. “Senemut, are you all right?”

  There was no response. He lay sprawled across her, a dead weight. The attacker disappeared as quickly as he had arrived.

  “Guards!” she screamed. She put her arms around Senemut and rolled him onto his back, wriggling out from under him as she did so. She felt a patch of wetness on her chest and stomach. Was it his blood? Where were the guards? She needed help and she needed light!

  At last, two guards appeared with torches in their hands. “May we assist you, Majesty?”

  “Someone has attacked Lord Senemut. Find the assassin at once, or I will have your heads,” she snapped. “Give me one of those torches. And send Nesi to me. Go!”

  “Aye, Your Majesty,” they stammered in unison, turning pale under their tans, and hastened to do her bidding.

  Hattie stuck the torch in a wall bracket over her bed and examined Senemut more closely. Blood was everywhere and it seemed to be spreading out from underneath him. Gently, she rolled him onto his side and leaned over to examine his back. She gasped as she saw a gaping stab wound to the right of his spine, just above his waist. Blood pumped from the laceration and she knew his life force was ebbing with each spurt. Seizing the linen sheet, she wadded it up and pressed it against the wound, but it seemed to be to no avail. Blood quickly soaked through the sheet and flowed between her outspread fingers.

  “Senemut, you cannot die. You cannot! How am I to live without you? Please, open your eyes, Senemut. Speak to me,” she begged.

  His eyelids fluttered open for a minute and his lips moved as he struggled to focus on her.

  “What is it, Senemut?” She leaned closer, watching his face intently.

  “I…I love you, Hattie,” he whispered. “I am sorry…” His eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped against her.

  “Nay, Senemut,” Hattie sobbed, shaking him. “Do not leave me, please!” But her heart felt as empty as it had in her nightmare, and she knew that this time, Senemut was gone.

  * * *

  Hapuseneb grunted with satisfaction as he straightened from bending over a worktable in a tiny, torchlit room in the secret innermost reaches of the temple of Amun. “So, the usurper is dead at last, is he?”

  “Aye, so he is,” Snefru said, rubbing his hands together. “And high time! He has been more difficult to dispatch than a wily jackal. The hired assassin has been silenced and his body dumped in the Nile. No one will trace him to us…if his remains are ever found.” He grinned. “I believe the crocodiles will be of great assistance there.”

  “Good! Then it is only a matter of time before we are rid of Hatshepsut also,” Hapuseneb said.

  “I have taken care of my part of our arrangement,” Snefru continued. “What about you? Are you finished with the spell for the necklace?”

  “I am just beginning. Would you care to assist me?” Hapuseneb beckoned to him, reveling in the look of sheer terror that crossed Snefru’s face.

  Snefru held up his hands and backed away. “Nay, I would not. I have never dabbled in black magic, and I do not intend to start now. I will not take the risk of angering the gods and having them send out their khefts to steal my soul.” He stumbled and nearly fell over a small stool. Righting it, he stammered, “I will take my leave now. I wish you success in your venture.” He turned and fled the room.

  Hapuseneb chuckled. “Snefru, you were ever fearful of powers you cannot see and touch. Fortunately, I have no such apprehensions.” He returned his attention to the necklace spread on the table.

  It was a fine piece of craftsmanship, and unfortunate indeed that the maker had met with a fatal “accident”. A golden falcon formed the central portion of the pectoral necklace, the symbol of pharaoh’s authority to rule over Egypt and his protection by the falcon-god Horus. The falcon’s outspread wings were resplendent with beads of turquoise, lapis lazuli, gold and colored glass, glittering even in the weak torchlight. The piercing green jasper eyes seemed strangely alive.

  Hapuseneb had dictated the hieroglyphics to be inscribed on the body of the bird to a scribe, whose journey to the afterlife had also regrettably been hastened. The hieroglyphics represented a prayer to protect the life of pharaoh; only Hapuseneb knew the prayer was offered for the life of Tuthmosis, not Hatshepsut. Now, all he had to do was cast the spell on the thing, and it could be presented to Hatshepsut and send her to her doom.

  First, he burned a pinch of incense in a small pottery bowl with a lotus flower motif and raised it over his head. “Hear me, Maat, goddess of justice and truth. It is I, Hapuseneb, High Priest of Amun, who calls. May my words be pleasing to your ears, as this incense is pleasing to your nostrils,” he chanted, as the sweet smoke rose and curled to the ceiling. The flickering torch threw grotesque shadows of Hapuseneb’s uplifted arms on the walls
.

  He set down the bowl and lifted the necklace, passed it back and forth through the incense smoke seven times, then raised it toward the ceiling. “Oh, Maat, I ask you to imbue this golden necklace with your power. Let Hatshepsut be taken far from Egypt when she touches it. Let her be toppled from the throne of Horus and thrust into the darkness beyond the grave. No female should be allowed to rule all of Egypt—let her reap the reward she so richly deserves. Let there be maat in the land of Egypt again.”

  A ferocious wind arose and swept through the room. The torch sputtered and went out. “It shall be as you desire, Hapuseneb, High Priest of Amun,” a spectral voice howled, coming from everywhere and nowhere. “Hatshepsut shall receive justice, maat shall be restored, and you shall receive what you deserve as well.”

  “Thank you, Maat, goddess of truth,” Hapuseneb cried above the roar of the wind, dropping the necklace and flinging himself prostrate to the ground. “May your name ever be praised!”

  As quickly as it began, the wind stopped. Hapuseneb arose cautiously, straightened his robe, and retrieved the necklace. He had a gift to present.

  CHAPTER 25

  Hattie pushed away the tray of food that Nesi had set before her. “Take it away, Nesi. I have no appetite.”

  “But, Majesty,” her servant protested, “you have eaten nothing in three days, nor have you slept! You must eat and you must rest, else you will fall ill.”

  “I care not whether I live or die,” Hattie murmured. She was only mildly surprised to discover that her words were true. She had lost Senemut and, with him, her enthusiasm and energy for life. She no longer cared if she completed her mission, if she returned to her own time. She had nothing left here, and nothing awaited her in the twenty-first century. “My survival means nothing to me when I have lost the only man I have ever loved.”

  Nesi clucked sympathetically. “Aye, Your Majesty. But Lord Senemut would not want you to grieve so, I know it. He was ever a kind man and you were his first concern. Surely, you can eat something for his sake?”

  Hattie eyed the servant suspiciously. Nesi bravely returned her stare, refusing to drop her eyes.

  “You are becoming much too smart for me,” Hattie said at last and sighed. It was easier to give in than to argue with the girl, for she had no strength to quarrel. “Aye, very well, leave the food. I shall try to eat a little.”

  “Amun be praised! Thank you, Majesty. And a small nap would do you good.” A smile lit Nesi’s face. “I will be outside if you require anything else.”

  Hattie took a bite of bread. It tasted like dust in her mouth. Absently, she crumbled the rest. Why had she come to this accursed time and place, only to have her heart broken? Surely Hatshepsut could have found someone else to carry on her mission who would have handled things properly, leaving Hattie free to stay in her own time with her heart untouched. She curled up on the bed, clutching one of Senemut’s cloaks to her chest.

  “Oh, Senemut,” she whispered. “Why did you leave me, alone and friendless? What will I do without you? How shall I go on?”

  At last, exhaustion and stress overcame her, and she dropped off into a fitful slumber.

  It seemed she had only been asleep an instant when she felt someone shake her. Opening her eyes a slit, Hattie saw Nesi bending over her.

  “Forgive me, Majesty, but there was no other way to wake you,” Nesi said. “You did not answer when I called to you.”

  Hattie sighed and rubbed her burning eyes, then pushed herself upright. “Do not worry. I am not angry. What do you want?”

  “There is a messenger waiting to see you.” The servant glanced over her shoulder and made the sign of the sacred eye of Horus. “Majesty, he is from the House of the Dead,” she whispered.

  “The House of the Dead? Nay, send him away. I do not wish to hear any details of the mummification process.” Hattie shuddered.

  “But, Majesty,” Nesi said, looking again over her shoulder, “the messenger says it is most urgent. He carries a message from the Ka priest at the house of embalming.”

  Hattie swallowed convulsively as the bite of bread she had swallowed earlier threatened to come up. “Very well…very well. Send him in.”

  A tall, gangly priest with a shaved head, dressed in a coarse linen kilt, entered and bowed deeply. “I am sorry to interrupt you, Majesty, but I have news I fear you will not like.”

  “Nothing could be worse than what I have already endured,” Hattie mumbled. Then she sighed. “Come, give me your news.”

  “Radiant One, I know not how to explain it…but…may Amun forgive us, the body of Lord Senemut has disappeared.” He gasped the final words in a rush, then dropped to his knees and prostrated himself on the floor at her feet.

  Hattie frowned. “Disappeared? What do you mean, Senemut’s body has disappeared?”

  The priest glanced up at her from the floor. “Lord Senemut was brought to us three days ago after his…his unfortunate accident. It was late in the day, Majesty, so we merely covered his body—with the finest of linen sheets, of course. When we returned to the house of embalming the following morning…” He abased himself again. “Majesty, Lord Senemut’s body was gone. The sheet lay on the embalming table undisturbed, as if no one had ever touched it. But Lord Senemut had vanished.”

  Hattie shook her head, only succeeding in making it pound. “Have you searched? Surely, he has just been moved to another part of the facility.”

  “Aye, Royal One,” the priest said. “We have searched from one end of the building to the other these two days past, but we can find no trace of him.” His voice sank to a whisper. “It is said that a mighty wind arose in that quarter of the city that night. Some say it was caused by the wings of Horus, arriving to take Lord Senemut bodily to the afterlife.”

  “I do not think that is the case,” Hattie said, scowling.

  “I can offer you no other explanation,” the priest stammered. “I am sorry, Majesty. I stand ready to accept any punishment you decree.” He quivered, but held his position at her feet.

  Hattie’s eyes cleared momentarily from the mist of grief she’d been in since Senemut’s death. A brave man lay before her, ready to accept death if she should order it so, for something he hadn’t done. “Do not fear. I do not hold you or your workers responsible, and I will not punish you.”

  The priest looked up cautiously. “I…I thank you, Divine One. You are most merciful!”

  The pall of despair dropped over Hattie again. “It matters not what has happened to the body. Lord Senemut is gone. That is all that matters to me.” She gestured at the priest and he hurried out, bowing all the way.

  Hattie dropped down onto her bed, clutching Senemut’s cloak to her. “It matters not…nothing matters now. My love, and my life, is gone.”

  * * *

  Hours later, Hattie still lay curled up on her bed, her eyes burning, her soul temporarily depleted of tears and grief. Nesi carefully poked her head into the room. “Majesty?”

  “Aye, Nesi?” Her voice sounded pained and dry, even to her.

  “Hapuseneb, the high priest of Amun, is here to see you. Shall I admit him?”

  Hattie sighed and pushed herself upright. “All right. Send him in.” She pushed a shaky hand through her tousled hair and made a halfhearted attempt to straighten her gown.

  Hapuseneb entered and bowed, his hands behind his back. “Majesty, forgive me for intruding on your sorrow. I know your heart is burdened and your spirit oppressed.”

  “Thank you for your sympathy, Hapuseneb,” she said, rising tiredly from the bed.

  “How are the young prince and princess taking the news?” He paced back and forth, glancing at her occasionally, but never turning his back.

  “Tuthmosis is away, training with the army, as you know,” Hattie said, frowning. She was mildly intrigued by Hapuseneb’s behavior since he had never before shown any concern for her. “I have sent him a messenger bearing the news. Neferure is heartbroken, as you may well imagine. Senemut w
as her first tutor and she loved him well.” Hattie sighed and massaged her temples. “I cannot comfort her, nor can she comfort me.”

  “It is regrettable,” he murmured, darting another glance at her and then looking away.

  “Aye. It is.” She paused, but he didn’t respond. “Is that all you came to say, or do you wish something from me?”

  Hapuseneb opened his mouth and closed it, then tried again. “I…forgive me for my audacity, Majesty, but I have brought you a gift. I think it will help to lighten your heart.” He brought out his hands from behind his back at last and thrust at her a beautifully decorated, small cedar box. “I pray you will accept this poor token of my esteem.”

  “Why, Hapuseneb! I am surprised.” Hattie allowed her expression to soften. Perhaps she had misjudged him. If he could offer her sympathy in her time of grief, he couldn’t be all bad. “It is very kind of you, and I thank you.” She reached out for the box and Hapuseneb placed it in her hands, an odd smile playing about the corners of his mouth.

  Hattie ran her fingers over the exquisite carving on the lid, then opened the box. It was deep and dark, revealing nothing of its interior. Caring little whether it was a piece of jewelry or a poisonous snake, she plunged her hand into the box and pulled out its contents. Her jaw dropped as she saw what dangled from her trembling fingers. It was the golden pectoral necklace that had brought her to Egypt, the eye of Horus glittering in the dim light. Confused, she turned to Hapuseneb. “What is this…where did you get…”

  A wicked grin split his face. “I have rid Egypt of the usurper Senemut, and now I shall rid her of you, too!”

  An electric shock pulsed through Hattie’s hand and up her arm. She tried to let go of the necklace, but she couldn’t seem to loosen her grip on it. Her legs buckled and gave out, and she dropped to the bed.

  “Why?” she whispered, as waves of dizziness assaulted her. She should be happy to be returning to her own home at last. Wasn’t that what she had worked for all this time? Hadn’t she turned the palace upside down searching for the necklace, and tried to find a magic spell or charm to aid her? Why, then, was she frightened now that her goal was at last at hand?