Magic of the Nile (3 page)

“Are you sure, my lady?“ Jemkhufu set down his tablet and quill and came around the table to stand next to her, exaggerated concern in his every move, as if she were a fragile piece of statuary. He patted her shoulder. “You’re pale. Another headache?”

Trapped in the chair, Tyema leaned back, shrugging his hand off her body. “I’ll be fine. I have herb infused syrup here, made from my late grandmother’s recipe.” She indicated the duck shaped pitcher on her table. “It’s not your job to worry after my health.”

He retreated a step or two but stayed in the room. “Your health concerns me because I care, my lady. You’re important to the temple—and to me.” Tilting his head, he gave her a look of such studied significance, Tyema was tempted to laugh. Unfortunately she knew he was utterly serious.

“The Great One Sobek watches over me at all times.”
Probably best to remind this overly familiar scribe of the fact.
“I need no human intervention so turn your attentiveness in other directions.” From the downcast expression on his face, now she was sure she’d hurt his feelings. Exasperation made her tone unusually sharp. “Summon the captain so I can hear his business with our temple.” She waved one hand at the door.

The scribe bowed low and left the chamber.

He’s getting to be a bit much, too solicitous. He needs to find a nice girl in the village and settle down.
There’s never going to be anything between us.
The scribe was short, older than her by several seasons of the Nile, full of his own importance and prone to long speeches. He’d lost a few teeth and he wore too much body perfume. Shaking her head and blowing out a breath in disgust at the mere idea of an affair with the man, Tyema fanned herself and took a sip of water. She probably needed to contact another temple and arrange a transfer of scribes before Jemkhufu crossed the line and said or did something she couldn’t ignore. Sobek would kill him and throw his
ka
to Ammit the Destroyer for breakfast if the scribe made advances to Tyema against her will.
 

Guess this is one letter I’ll have to write myself
.

Raising a hand to stroke her cheek, she relived Sahure’s chaste kiss and the way her body had reacted favorably to
his
proximity. She knew why she’d been tempted to visit the festival with him, aside from his obvious attractiveness and smooth Theban charm. Her life was calm, orderly, peaceful…and lonely.
I run the temple, I lead the observances, I give direction to the staff, and I see my family occasionally.
But she’d deliberately constructed her life to be tranquil, after the turbulent, awful events of her childhood, hadn’t she? So how could she complain now, if safe routine had become a cell, one she saw no way of escaping? At least her decision to venture out for one night with a stranger had been fun.

“May I present Captain Sahure, of Pharaoh’s Own Guards, nephew of Nomarch Ienhotep,” said the scribe as he reentered the room, followed by the warrior. Bowing to Tyema, Jemkhufu added an admonition to the visitor. “Be honored to enter the presence of High Priestess Tyema.”

She caught her breath as Sahure sauntered in, resplendent in his full uniform, the golden falcon badge prominent on the leather straps crossing his broad chest, scarlet cloak swirling around his legs. He was even more handsome than she’d remembered. He bowed, “Good morning to you, my lady.”

“And to you, captain.” With great effort, she kept a smile from forming on her lips. Unfamiliar heat pulsed in her core and she suppressed the urge to shift her hips in response.

“I appreciate your seeing me today instead of tomorrow,” he said, staring at her with narrowed eyes.

Oh, I couldn’t wait till tomorrow.
Tyema remained regally seated in her chair with an effort, curling her fingers tight against the desire to touch him. “I’m sure your business is urgent.”
 

“Indeed, I’m here at the command of Pharaoh, very pressing affairs.” He raised his eyebrows and gave a sideways glance at the scribe.

“You may go, Jemkhufu,” she said, following Sahure’s line of sight.

“But, my lady, what if notes need to be taken?” The scribe was startled, his eyes opening wide and his mouth hanging open. Tyema never met with anyone alone, other than the god Sobek, so she wasn’t surprised by Jemkhufu’s reaction. Swallowing hard, the scribe glared at Sahure while questioning her order for privacy again. “Are you sure you won’t need me?”

She tapped her fingers on the arm of her chair. “I’ll call you when we’re done.”

The scribe gathered up his tablets, rolls of blank papyrus and sharpened quills in an untidy armful and backed from the room, closing the door. She heard him complaining to the guard about the unscheduled audience interfering with the day as the portal closed.

Before she could say anything, Sahure was standing in front of her, his arms caging her in the chair. “And I thought
Theban
ladies played games,” he said. “Imagine my surprise this morning to see that the high priestess of Sobek was none other than my little waif from the previous evening. She whom I thought to be Ema was in reality the legendary and rarely seen Tyema herself.”

“Waif?” Tyema couldn’t decide whether to be amused or insulted. True the plain dress wasn’t the best garment in her wardrobe but surely it didn’t give such an insignificant impression?

“Were you laughing at me the entire evening?” His tone was cold. “Did you enjoy your masquerade?”

She put one hand on his chest, trying to push him away, but under her fingers his body was solid muscle, an unyielding wall. “I’m sorry, I didn’t set out to deceive you.”

He stared at her for a long moment before releasing the chair. He backed up a step. Hands on hips, he asked, “Then why the lie?”

 
Pointing a finger at him, she said, “You just assumed I was a simple priestess. Ema is the pet name my family calls me, if you must know. Please, I had such a lovely, rare time last night, don’t ruin it with anger today. I’m sorry.”

“You’re right, I did assume.” Eyes narrowed, he studied her more closely. “The innkeeper was saying this morning you never come to the village, you’re never seen away from this temple. Of course he wasn’t addressing this remark to me and when he noticed me standing there, he shut up and scurried into the kitchen. His embarrassed departure was my first clue perhaps the girl I’d been enchanted by wasn’t what she seemed.”

“Oh dear, I was hoping no one in the family had seen me.” Tyema knew she’d be dealing with the gossip and fallout of her excursion for a long time. Her aunts, nieces and female cousins would want all the details, none of which she planned to supply, innocuous though the night had been.

“Apparently we’re the talk of the entire town today, I assure you. Not that I care,” he said.

No, for you’ll be departing for Thebes all too soon, while I stay here.
Tyema didn’t know what to say next. She was unused to dealing with a man on a personal level. All her encounters with people were about the temple, about Sobek’s business, and those interactions she could handle. She decided to switch the conversation to his reason for visiting the area. “I’m sure the Great One will be fine with anywhere you decide to build a river port, as long as the site isn’t close to this temple complex. The beach below is private for his use.”

“Oh no you don’t, we aren’t done with the subject of last night yet.” He picked up a gilded crocodile statue on the desk, examined it briefly before setting it down. “Does the god restrict your comings and goings? Are you going to be in trouble?” He frowned.

“What?” Wrinkling her brow, Tyema tried to follow the train of thought. “No, Sobek is very considerate of me.”

The captain from Thebes didn’t seem pleased by the answer, clenching his jaw. “Are you sworn to serve him personally, then?”

Now she saw where his thoughts were running. “Of course not! Sobek refers to me as his little sister, when I see him.” She bit her lip. It wasn’t her place to explain to this relative stranger what the exact relationship between the god and herself was. No one this side of the Afterlife knew the Great One was married to her half-sister Merys, living with her in the home of the gods, by grace of the goddess Isis. “I merely do him honor as a priestess. Many in my family have been priestesses at this temple in past generations. He protects me.”

Throwing out his arms, palms up, Sahure had exasperation written on his face. “Then
why
is your attending the festivities in the village with me such wonderment? Even the god Horus is probably speaking of it today.”
 

“I rarely go outside the temple compound, and my reasons are strictly my own,” she said, striving for dignity, her heart racing a bit. “I thank you again for the dinner and the evening’s entertainment. Now, I’m sure I must have others waiting for a moment of my time on temple business. My scribe said there was a full slate.”

He wandered over to admire a fresco on the east wall, of Sobek amid a gathering of his crocodiles, rendered in vivid colors. “Too bad you never leave the grounds. That’s going to present a challenge to me teaching you to drive a chariot while I’m here.” Glancing at her over his shoulder, Sahure grinned, one eyebrow raised.

Mouth open, she simply stared at him for a long moment.

“Shifting into the frog goddess Heqet now?” he teased. “Careful, you’ll be catching flying insects.”

Shutting her mouth with an audible snap of her teeth, she started to chuckle, then laughed. “Could we start over?” She held out one hand. “I’m Tyema, high priestess of Sobek in the Ibis Nome, but you may call me Ema.”

He walked to her chair. “Much better,” he said, taking her hand and bowing respectfully as if she were the queen. “I’m Captain Sahure, sent by Pharaoh to survey the Nile in this area, to further his investigation into the possibility of building a new port.”

“And the Great One Sobek does
not
set limits on what I do with my personal time.” Tyema smiled, gazing into his dark brown eyes, enjoying the warmth of his reciprocating grin.

He relinquished her hand. “I’m on a tight schedule for accomplishing this task as Pharaoh has other duties for me in the near future. I’d appreciate your help finding suitable inlets to recommend for the new port. In return I’ll teach you to drive the chariot,” he offered. “Although, gods help me, it’s not a skill most women have any interest in. You did well enough last night.”

Glancing at the piles of tablets and the rolled papyri on her desk, Tyema said, “I can’t abandon my daily duties.”

“No, I understand but surely you can delegate some tasks, spend a portion of the days with me while I’m here? The afternoons at least?” Sahure picked up a tablet from Jemkhufu’s desk at random, scanning the hieratic writing. “A request for prayers about the birthing of the new calves?” Staring at her, one eyebrow raised, he said, “You don’t handle every single aspect of this temple’s business and religious activities yourself, do you?”

Actually, I do.
She studied him closely. “I can’t tell— are you proposing we conduct business or pleasure together?”

Dropping the tablet on top of the others, he nodded. “Oh, I’m all business, I assure you. I have a scroll of authority from Pharaoh attesting to my mission, which I can duly show you if required. I’ve a feeling your overly protective scribe is going to demand the proof,” he said with a deep chuckle. “But I see no reason why a job must be pure drudgery, not when there’s such pleasant company available.”

Careful, this man is a high born noble, used to verbal foreplay with the women at Court before he beds them, no doubt. You can’t take his honeyed words too seriously.
Even as she was inwardly chiding herself, Tyema nodded. His friendly, teasing manner put her at ease as no one else other than Merys ever had.
What harm could it do to enjoy this rare opportunity, to indulge in seductive flirtation?
Someone who knows nothing of my past? I can keep my head, even if I do find him so attractive. And if we let it drift further, into more intimate territory, what harm after all? I’m a grown woman with no commitments.

“Well, do we have a bargain? You’d better decide before your officious scribe forces his way back in here to preserve the day’s precious schedule.” Sahure’s bantering words interrupted her musing.

With a little start, Tyema nodded. “I’ll help speed your mission, in exchange for the chariot lessons, yes. Although I’d put the resources of the temple at Pharaoh’s disposal in any case, up to the limits my Great One imposed.”

“I’ll take my leave and return tomorrow at the first hour past noon. You should be done with ceremonies by then?”

“Yes, that’s fine.” Tyema tried to remember what little she knew of boats and harbors. Neither was a subject of which she was fond.

Bowing, Sahure left the office. Tyema sank back into her chair as a flustered Jemkhufu shoved past the captain in the doorway and tried to find his place on the list of priorities for the day, muttering imprecations at the delay in the schedule.

I hope I haven’t made a huge mistake.
Resisting the urge to go to the window for one last glimpse of the Theban as he left the grounds, Tyema leaned her head against the winged sun depicted on the back of the chair and closed her eyes for a moment, before reaching for the medicinal water, as her headache made a pounding reappearance.

***

Next morning she had butterflies in her stomach which wouldn’t subside, no matter what she was doing. The hours crawled by, Tyema felt she was walking through the ceremonies by rote and wondered what occupied Sahure this morning. Finally the noontime devotions were finished and she changed her dress before eating a hasty lunch, in case he arrived early.