Eye of the Moon (9 page)

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Authors: Dianne Hofmeyr

BOOK: Eye of the Moon
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Queen Tiy's bedroom was painted a brilliant red. As we entered, I was overpowered by the perfume of hundreds of lilies filling urns everywhere. Hovering over us with giant outstretched wings was another painted vulture goddess. And snarling up at me with claws bared and terrifying eyes was a lion. I stood paralyzed until I realized it lay flat on the floor without flesh or muscle.

Queen Tiy's feathered vulture crown was right
there before me on a special stand. My fingers ached to touch it, to lift it up and feel the weight of it on my head, and to sense the sweep of its wings glittering with gold and jewels at either side of my temple.

I glanced at Tuthmosis. How did he feel being so close to his mother's things? But he was expressionless, as if passing through a stranger's chamber, and urged me quickly past.

There were cats curled up everywhere. Lying on the drapes that covered a huge lion-clawed bed and sleeping on cushioned chairs. One rubbed itself against Tuthmosis's legs. I saw a faint smile cross his face. “My mother shaved her eyebrows the day her favorite cat died. She had all her cats embalmed after they died and buried them in sacred receptacles.”

We came to an inner sanctum. My breath caught. Everything any woman could desire lay waiting for the hands of the queen—as if she were about to walk into the room at any moment.

Small chests, intricately inlaid with ivory and mother-of-pearl, held cosmetic spoons, kohl tubes, eyebrow tweezers, curling clips, combs, delicate glass phials of perfume, and turquoise-glazed offering bowls. Ostrich fans and an array of amulets, bracelets,
rings, and jeweled broad-collar necklaces spilled out onto tables, like multicolored rainbows.

Tuthmosis moved around restlessly, touching and moving things. Plucking here and there. Mindlessly stroking a cat that had followed us. “What's taking that girl so long?”

Without being able to stop myself, I dug my fingers into the jewels and brought out a ring with the largest amethyst I'd ever seen. I picked up an ivory comb expecting to feel the warmth of the queen's hand still on it. A single strand of hennaed hair twirled through its teeth. I traced my fingers over a translucent alabaster cosmetic spoon in the form of a girl carrying a gazelle-shaped container. I lifted the finely carved head that formed the lid. When I held it to my nose, the hollowed belly still smelled of perfumed wax.

Just then the girl returned. She took the jar from my hands and replaced it. She handed me a fresh tunic made of coarse, unbleached linen. She moved with the light, quick hover of an iridescent dragonfly. The plaited side pieces of her wig swung against her cheeks like delicate beaded curtains as she offered me a tray of glazed apricots and some thin slices of smoke-flavored duck.

“There's no time to eat,” Tuthmosis snapped. “What about wigs?”

The girl opened the catches on a box. “I'd have brought two of my own wigs but they're too distinctive. These are from the servants' quarters. They've already been powdered with cinnamon against lice and perfumed with rose oil.”

“Lice?”

“We need sandals,” Tuthmosis interrupted.

“I've brought some.” She glanced at me. “Two pairs of mine. Your feet are the same size.” The ones she held were normal flat-woven ones, not the upturned kind she was wearing. She held some toward Tuthmosis. “And two pairs of your own.”

“What about the boat?” Tuthmosis asked.

“There's a reed boat waiting for you at the causeway closest to the south gate. The causeway will take you directly south to join the Great River farther upstream. With luck you won't come across anyone returning from either Karnak or Luxor. There are throw-sticks and harpoon spears in the boat to catch waterfowl and fish. I've put food in a basket as well, and there are skins to keep you warm.” She glanced across at me. “And a small casket of almond
and cinnamon oil to protect you from the sun and wind.”

She'd thought of everything.

“Would you like kohl to protect your eyes from the glare and some of my Syrian eye paste made from ground turquoise powder mixed with almond oil?”

Tuthmosis clicked his tongue. “There's no time for this! They'll be returning soon.”

“Wait!” I touched the girl's arm. “I must ask something. Have you news of my father, the priest at the Temple of Sobek?”

She shook her head. But when I searched her face, her eyes seemed to say something else. She shrugged. “No one is sure of anything. There are rumors. One moment it's said we'll be sent back to Mitanni, the next it's whispered we'll all be made slaves to the new pharaoh.”

Tuthmosis tugged at me. “Come now, Isikara! We must hurry!”

Suddenly I felt uneasy. Maybe my father would still come. I eyed the prince. “Can't we wait? Just until tomorrow? The sun's already low. The river might not be safe at night.”

He shook his head. “We can't risk it. You heard
Ta-Miu. They've already announced my death. They'll kill us if we're found.”

Ta-Miu nodded.

I glanced at her. “And you? They might kill you for helping us.”

“I'll have to risk it.”

“Come with us!”

“No!” Tuthmosis glanced coldly at me. “It's difficult enough to escape with you. But I'm duty bound because of what your father did for me. Three of us would be impossible.”

So I was a burden! For a brief moment we stood eyeing each other.

Ta-Miu broke the tension. She reached up to Tuthmosis and put a small, delicate hand on his arm. “Go carefully!” she whispered. I saw her slip something to him from her girdle bag. I noticed the small tattoo on her left shoulder. It was the outline of a cat.

We went quickly down the pathway to the causeway, our footsteps slapping against the stone and echoing in the stillness as we ran.

A tall figure loomed up out of the shadows. “Oy! Stop!”

It was a guard so drunk, he could hardly stand. He came very close and peered into our faces. I smelled fumes of palm wine on his breath. “Where are you going?”

My heart stood still. Tuthmosis had not yet put on his disguise. He'd be recognized. But before we could say anything, the man's legs gave way beneath him. He fell into a stupor at our feet and we skirted quickly past him.

We found the reed boat as Ta-Miu had said and pushed off silently from the bank. The sun was already dropping behind the Theban mountains. I felt my own heart sinking too. Hidden in the mauve shadows beneath the cliffs were the bodies of Tuthmosis's parents—King Amenhotep lying in his red sarcophagus waiting to journey to the afterlife, and Queen Tiy waiting for the Opening of the Mouth ceremony.

And my own father? Was he there too? In one of the passageways, finding his way toward us? I prayed with all my heart that it was so.

I looked back at Tuthmosis. “How far will we go tonight?” I whispered.

“Beyond the outer city of Thebes. We'll be going
against the current, but the wind blowing upstream will be in our favor.”

Beyond the outer city! It was a frightening thought. The farthest I'd ever gone was across the Great River to the western bank. Now I thought of Katep. Like him, I was traveling farther and farther away from everything I'd ever known. It wouldn't do me any good to look back. But how could I look forward? What lay ahead was too unknown. The thought numbed me into silence and made the paddles feel like stones in my hands.

The breeze had died. In the slow silver light, the only sound came from the flap of the sail and the swish of our paddles as we urged the boat forward against the smooth-running current. Now and again, the stillness was broken by the splash of a whiskered catfish as it broke the surface to catch a water fly, or the fluster of wings as a surprised heron flew up from the reeds.

A sudden beat of oars behind us made my heart leap. Not a single oar but many. In the purple dusk, I saw a dark red sail and the huge bulk of
Dazzling Aten,
its sharp prow slicing through the water, bearing down on us.

   
8
   
WOSRET

T
hey're after us! They know we've escaped. Ta-Miu must have told them!”

“Impossible! Ta-Miu would
never
reveal our secret.”

“Then why are we being followed?”

“Someone must have spotted us.”

“Paddle faster!”

“We can't out-row them! They've twenty oarsmen and a captain who knows no mercy.”

“Stop rowing, then!”

“One moment you say paddle faster, the next you say stop rowing. Which do you want?”

I grabbed the second wig. I already had mine on. “Put this on! Pull the tunic over your head. Quick! You
have
to be a girl now! It's our only hope. They're looking for a prince and a girl. Not two sisters. Don't speak! Don't let them hear your voice. I'll answer for both of us.”

The barge was gaining on us. While Tuthmosis arranged his wig and clothing, I paddled closer to the reeds. If we were lucky, they'd pass without seeing us hidden among the papyrus. I turned to inspect the prince. He made a handsome peasant girl. His eyes challenged me to keep silent.

I bit my lip to stop myself from giggling. “Wrap something around your forehead so your eyes don't show,” is all I said.

Now the barge was so close, its sails blocked the last light of the sky. With a shudder I saw Wosret sitting under the canopy. Two slaves held flaming torches on either side of him. It had to be serious for him to travel by night. The captain stood in the prow, holding a torch to light the way so the barge
would not run into logs and floating papyrus and debris being swept down the river.

We sat quietly, our paddles clenched, holding our breath. For a moment I thought they might pass, but the captain's hand went up. “Hold your oars!” he shouted back to the men, and pointed. “There's something out there! Among the papyrus alongside the bank.”

With a sudden swish, all oars came up. The barge glided silently toward us. The captain leaned forward in the prow. His large chest gleamed in the torchlight, and his fiery red hair teased out and lost its edge as it sprouted and tangled with his beard and made a huge lion's mane around his sweaty face.

“Who are you?” His voice boomed over the silent water like thunder.

“Two peasant girls, sir. Come from the Sophet Festival.” I did my best to put on a rough peasant accent and kept my head bowed to appear like a humble farm girl. I prayed Wosret would not come up to the prow as well. We were low in the water. From where he was seated under the canopy, his view of us wasn't good.

The captain waved his torch above us. “What
are you doing out on the river at dusk? Are you not frightened of crocodiles?”

“Crocodiles don't scare us, sir!”

“Well, they should, you foolish girl! Why are you returning so late?”

“We've come from the Sophet Festival, sir.”

“Yes,” he answered testily. “You've said that!”

“Our dog has died. She was trampled underfoot in the crush at the festival. We're here to offer her as a sacrifice to the great god Sobek. As you know, sir, it is said that whoever is devoured by the crocodile god, Sobek, is possessed forever by divinity!”

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