Lady of the Two Lands Page 8

  “Come, now. I will see you come to no harm. What is the danger in telling me your name?”

  He raised his eyes to hers briefly. “My name is Piye, Royal One. I am chief of the Nubian bowmen, and commander of the army.”

  “Thank you, Piye. I am Hatshepsut, queen regent of Egypt. Do you know that your country is a vassal state of Egypt, and bound to obey her rule?”

  “Aye, Royal One,” he ground out from between clenched teeth. “We are your slaves and your property.”

  “Nonsense. You are under the protection of Egypt—an arrangement that can be mutually beneficial.”

  “It has not been so thus far,” he muttered, shaking his head.

  “Then we will have to change that.” She clapped her hands for her scribe.

  “What does Your Majesty have in mind?” Snefru asked, suspicion evident in his narrowed eyes.

  Hattie beckoned the scribe to take a seat. “I will offer a treaty to the Nubians. They will remain loyal subjects, in return for which, I will promise them trading and other benefits.”

  This was too much for Snefru to stomach. “But, Majesty!” he cried. “They are Egypt’s vassals! You need not promise them anything. It is their duty to obey.”

  Senemut leaned down and whispered in her ear. “I fear Snefru is right. If you treat them kindly, they will take advantage of it. You must be firm.”

  “I intend to be firm,” she retorted. “But I also intend to be fair. I would rather have Nubia as my ally than my enemy. A friend will guard you from assault, but an enemy will stab you in the back.”

  Senemut shook his head, but subsided into silence. Piye glanced at her, surprise written across his strong features.

  “I will ask you to sign this papyrus, Piye, promising that you and your people will be loyal subjects of Egypt. You will obey our laws, and send your annual tribute as required. You will not rebel against us. Your signature will be your sacred oath.” She held up her hand to stop the prisoner from speaking. “In return, I will promise you that none of your countrymen will be harmed if they obey our laws. Egypt will trade frequently with your country. In addition, we will send soldiers to your assistance if it is required, just as you will assist us when necessary. Do you agree?”

  Piye’s jaw dropped. “Royal One, I…I know not what to say. Forgive me, but pharaohs have never dealt with us thus.”

  “You have never dealt with me before. Come, give me your answer—will you be Egypt’s enemy or Egypt’s ally?” Hattie stared at him, chin held high.

  “Ally, Royal One,” the man at last responded in a whisper. “Ally! I will serve Your Majesty until the day I die.”

  * * *

  Hapuseneb stared at Snefru in openmouthed horror. “He what?”

  “Aye, you heard me aright,” Snefru said bitterly. “That commoner Senemut saved Hatshepsut’s life, dispatching the Nubian soldier who was directed to kill her. And Senemut received barely a scratch in the process.”

  “Ast! Senemut should be dragged into the desert and left to die! He is a scourge upon Egypt.” Hapuseneb slumped heavily onto a stool. “And that woman must be protected by Horus himself.”

  “Horus or no, we must do something before she brings Egypt down…and us with it.” Snefru glared at Hapuseneb. “Not only did Senemut save her life, but somehow—I know not through what magic or spell—he convinced her to offer a treaty to the Nubians instead of punishing them as they deserve.”

  “A treaty?” Hapuseneb’s stomach plunged sickeningly. His beloved Egypt would be brought to ruin in Hatshepsut’s foolish hands. “What will become of Egypt under the rule of that woman? With Senemut at her side, she will destroy us all, leaving Egypt’s bones to be picked over by the scavengers. We must stop her!”

  “Aye, we must. Have you other ideas?”

  “Give me time, give me time…” Hapuseneb steepled his hands and tapped his index fingers together. Then the glimmering of an idea appeared in his desperately searching mind. It was preposterous, but it just might work. “Aye! I have it! I know how we will bring her down. It is risky, but it will work—it must! Here is what we will do…”

  Snefru leaned his dark head close to Hapuseneb’s shaved one, and they murmured together until dawn broke in the eastern sky.

  CHAPTER 13

  Hattie sighed as Tuthmosis fled the throne room, his tears barely held in check. General Snefru followed close on his heels, furious, but better able to contain his emotions after years spent in pharaoh’s service.

  Hattie turned to Senemut. “Was I wrong?”

  His face was carefully neutral. “It is not my place, Majesty, to instruct you in—”

  “Ast!” she snapped. “I asked for your opinion, did I not?”

  “Aye. I am sorry, Hattie.” He bowed briefly. “It is…it is customary for young princes to accompany their armies on campaigns. It is natural that His Majesty Prince Tuthmosis would wish to do so. It is considered part of a royal prince’s education, and the experience will be very valuable for him when he mounts the throne.”

  “I know, I know,” Hattie agreed impatiently. “But he is only eight years old. He is a baby! Surely, he is too young to go off to war, despite all his protests to the contrary.”

  “Many have gone at a younger age, Majesty,” Senemut murmured. “He would have countless advisors and guards around him, and General Snefru would see to it that he came to no harm. A boy his age is ready to learn about discipline and command, which are abilities he will surely need when he rules Egypt.”

  “Aye, well, I will consider it. But I do not think I will change my mind. I have seen battle now, and it is a hideous, terrifying thing.” Her frown softened. “Tuthmosis is only a child and does not know what is best for him. Sometimes I must go against his wishes, causing him to fear and distrust me more. Nothing I do pleases him, and I have tried very hard to please him for the past six months. He is a sad little boy with a great weight on his shoulders, but he will not allow me to help him.”

  “He is young, as you said. Give him time. He still mourns the loss of his father, and chafes under the restrictions of being a ruler with no real authority. He will come around, I am certain.”

  “Mayhap you are right. But I grow weary of trying to impress an unresponsive boy, regardless of the reasons for his stubbornness. I feel strongly about this issue, and I do not think I will change my mind.” Hattie sighed again. “Tell General Snefru he may proceed with the campaign, without Prince Tuthmosis.”

  “Very well, Majesty. It shall be as you command.” Senemut bowed and left the room.

  “Campaigns,” Hattie muttered as she stormed back to her royal suite. Servants in the halls bowed submissively and shrank before her wrath. “Soldiers. Little boys running off to make war! I am sick of it all. I want to go home to my own time, my own country, my own friends. I cannot stand this exile a moment longer.” She marched into her bedroom, tore the coronet from her head, and flung it onto the bed.

  Nesi awaited her, a look of abject fear etched across her face. “May I serve you, Majesty?” she whispered.

  “Bring me some food, and be quick about it,” Hattie snapped.

  “Aye, Majesty.” Nesi turned to go, quaking so violently that her fragile gown shivered with each step.

  At once, Hattie’s conscience stabbed her. “Nesi?”

  “Aye, Majesty?” The servant turned with obvious reluctance to face her mistress again.

  “I am sorry I shouted at you. I am not angry with you. Please accept my apology,” Hattie said in a warmer tone. She smiled encouragingly.

  Nesi blushed. “It is nothing. I am but Your Majesty’s servant.”

  “And you deserve to be treated fairly. You have been a great help to me, and I value your service.”

  “Thank you, Majesty.” Nesi curtseyed deeply. “I am honored I have been of use to Your Royal Highness.” The girl still appeared ill at ease, but at least her shaking had stopped.

  “Please fetch me some date wine, a little cheese, and figs
. And some bread, too, but take care that you bring bread made with the special flour. I do not wish to break a tooth.”

  The servant curtseyed once more and fled the room as if demons were chasing her.

  Hattie was rather proud of herself for finding a way to insure she could eat bread without wearing her teeth down to a pulp on sandy grit. She had instructed the royal goldsmith in the preparation of a golden sieve covered with very fine holes, pierced with a tiny, sharp awl. She demonstrated to her astonished cook the use of the sieve, to strain out sand and other impurities from the flour. The cook was suitably impressed, too, with the delicacy of the finished baked goods. If only her other problems were so easy to solve!

  Her refusal to allow Tuthmosis to accompany him on the army’s next campaign had infuriated General Snefru. He had been most vocal in his support of the idea—dangerously close to insolent, in fact. Hattie knew so little about the time in which she found herself. Perhaps she should have allowed Tuthmosis to go. Senemut felt it was appropriate, after all, and she trusted him. Had she erred again? Perhaps the real Hatshepsut would have allowed Tuthmosis to train with the army. Was she jeopardizing her chances of returning home by forbidding the prince to go? She was charged with protecting him, but was she being overprotective?

  Hattie dropped down onto her bed and pressed her fingers against her aching temples. What she wouldn’t give for a couple of aspirins! She needed to concentrate on finding a way back home where she wouldn’t have to worry about campaigns, sulky crown princes, or damaging her teeth in a place where the practice of dentistry was limited to chanting a prayer to ward off evil, and wrenching the offending tooth out of the inebriated patient’s jaw.

  Traveling through time was easier said than done, however. Hattie still didn’t know for certain how she had ended up in Hatshepsut’s court, so she didn’t have the first idea of how to return home, although she strongly suspected the necklace had something to do with it. Her memory continued to be a bit hazy, most probably from the blow to the head she’d sustained when she fell in the vault at the museum. The last thing she remembered was a wave of dizziness, clutching the necklace, and falling to the floor, then a brief, dreamlike encounter with the image of Hatshepsut. When she awoke, she discovered she had been given—without her permission—a splitting headache, a different body, a new life, and an apparently one-way ticket to the past.

  Tuthmosis was not making that new life any easier. Every time she tried to reach out to the boy to befriend him, he ignored her or turned away. He still seemed to be struggling with the loss of his father and the adult responsibilities suddenly thrust upon him. Yet he wouldn’t accept help from Hattie, the one person who wanted to ease his pain.

  Senemut had suggested, when she first arrived, that the boy be sent away to train with the army. And now it was clear General Snefru agreed. She had rejected the advice out of hand, thinking Tuthmosis was too young, but perhaps she had been hasty in reaching that conclusion. Boys in her own time, often as young as Tuthmosis, went to military academies. It was a good way to instill discipline and a healthy respect for authority. Perhaps sending Tuthmosis into the army was the ancient world’s equivalent of military school?

  She would discuss it with Senemut the next time she saw him. He might have been right all along. He was a native in this time, after all, while she was just an interloper. She should give his advice more credence.

  The curtain flew to one side and a tiny figure burst into the room. “Mother!” Neferure ran to Hattie and threw her small arms around Hattie’s knees, effectively pinning her in place.

  “Hello, darling.” Hattie gently disengaged the child and lifted her into her arms. “I am happy to see you, but should you not be at your lessons?”

  “I wanted to see you. Senimen will not mind.” Neferure flung her arms around Hattie’s neck.

  Hattie patted the girl’s back and bounced her up and down as she walked across the room. “Do you like your new tutor?” she asked, setting Neferure down on the bed.

  “Aye, Mother, I like him well enough. But why do you not teach me?”

  “I am sorry, little one, but I have too many other duties. Senimen will teach you well, if you mind him.”

  “I shall.” Neferure nodded emphatically. “I am a very good girl. Senimen says so.”

  Hattie heard a cough outside her door. “Come in.”

  Senimen poked his dark head into the room. “Ah, there you are, Princess Neferure! You must not run away from me at lesson time.” He sketched a brief bow to Hattie. “Forgive the intrusion, Your Majesty. I shall see it does not happen again.”

  Hattie chuckled. “Never mind, Senimen. I enjoy seeing Neferure and hearing of her progress.” She turned to the child. “Back to your lessons, little one. Off you go! There are many things you must learn so that, when you grow up, you can be a good queen.”

  She sighed as she watched Neferure’s sturdy little legs carry her down the hall in the direction of her own rooms, hand-in-hand with Senimen. Hattie had grown very fond of the little princess, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to imagine leaving her behind when she returned to her own time. Well, who wouldn’t be fond of such a pretty, intelligent and affectionate child? It wasn’t Neferure’s fault that the woman she thought to be her mother was really an intruder from another place and time. It was Hattie’s duty to treat the child as Hatshepsut would. Neferure didn’t deserve to suffer for Hattie’s misfortune, regardless of how it would break Hattie’s heart to leave her when the time came.

  The curtain flapped again. “Neferure, I thought I told you to…” Hattie began. But it was Senemut striding into her room, not the child. His expression was grim. “What is it?” she asked. “Did the prince throw another temper tantrum?”

  “Nay, Majesty. But it does concern the prince. I have something to tell you that I fear will alarm you. It is most serious.”

  Her knees buckled and she sat down abruptly on the bed. “What is it? Tell me.” Filled with a sudden, dark foreboding, she held her breath, waiting for his response.

  He hesitated, then boldly took both of Hattie’s hands in his and squeezed them tightly. “Hattie, someone has tried to murder Prince Tuthmosis.”

  CHAPTER 14

  “Someone tried to kill Tuthmosis?” Hattie gasped. “Who? How? Is he all right? Tell me what happened, Senemut.”

  “He is all right,” Senemut assured her, sitting down next to her on the bed. “He is just a little frightened. I have had him taken to my rooms, and placed under the protection of my own bodyguards. He is safe…at least for now.”

  Hattie passed a shaky hand across her brow. “How did this happen? Tell me quickly, Senemut. Who would want to harm that little boy?”

  He frowned. “There are many who would wish to harm a crown prince and heir to the throne. It is a miracle when any royal child reaches maturity.”

  “What happened?” she repeated impatiently.

  “Tuthmosis was about to have a meal. One of the ladies of the royal harem brought him his favorite food—barley porridge and honey cakes.”

  Hattie nodded. She knew the boy had a sweet tooth, and had tried to win him over with honey cakes herself on more than one occasion.

  “His tutor, Ineni, told the prince that he must eat his porridge before he could have his honey cakes,” Senemut continued. “While Tuthmosis was eating the porridge, his pet monkey stole one of the cakes and ran off with it. Within five minutes, the monkey was dead.”

  She gasped. “Poison?”

  “Aye. A virulent, quick-acting poison. Had Tuthmosis eaten the honey cake himself, he would most probably be dead.”

  Hattie leapt up and paced the floor. “Who would want to harm him? He is just a little boy. Even if he is the crown prince, surely he poses no danger to anyone at his age? He pays little enough attention in court. For all the input he provides, I might as well be making the decisions alone.”

  The expression on Senemut’s face was strained. “Hattie, I do not think…I d
o not think the honey cakes were poisoned because Tuthmosis was a threat to anyone. I very much fear the poisoner was attempting to get rid of you.”

  “Me?” she cried. “Why would anyone want to get rid of me? And why would they poison Tuthmosis to do it? If he had eaten the poisoned sweet and died, I would still be here to…to rule.”

  Senemut slowly shook his head. “If the crown prince were to die, you would no longer be Regent on the throne of Egypt. You are a woman, and cannot rule alone. By getting rid of Tuthmosis, a traitor could rid himself of both of you.”

  Hattie twisted her hands together. “But, if someone wants to get rid of me, why did he not try to poison me? Why Tuthmosis? Surely, it would be simpler to just kill me.”

  Senemut sighed. “I, too, have pondered this and I will tell you my thoughts, though they may be incorrect. As Regent, you are too well guarded to make an attempt on your life easy. You are not as impulsive as a child. The traitor would have to come up with something less transparent than poisoning an item of food you did not request.”

  He hesitated, then continued. “Yet it may be the traitor has already tried to rid himself of you also. I thought you had died of grief at your husband, the Great God’s funeral, but it may be that you, too, were poisoned and the assassin simply misjudged the strength of the poison. May Amun forgive me, but I believe it makes sense for him to use the same means to murder both you and Tuthmosis.”

  Nausea crawled around in the pit of Hattie’s stomach. She’d thought her worries were confined to dealing with recalcitrant princes and finding her way back home. She had forgotten the warning of the real Hatshepsut that the would-be assassin might have already tried to kill her once; she hadn’t believed her own life might be in danger. “Who did it? Who put the poison in the honey cake?”

  Again, he shook his head. “I know not. The woman who brought the food is being questioned, but I fear we will learn nothing from her. The food was given to her by a servant, who, in turn, received it from one of the royal cooks. That cook has since disappeared.”