past? Yosef had been the love of her youth, the boy who taught
her to lift her hopes above slavery, the man who taught her to
dream. But love, genuine love, existed in the king who had
given her a son, the heart that brought her lotus blossoms and
called her friend.
His hand traveled up her back, and Tuya tilted her head to
study his face. Had her infatuation for Yosef caused Tuthmo-
sis much grief? She suspected he knew far more than he
revealed, yet his was a trusting soul. Even knowing that she
and Yosef shared a past, he was brave enough to trust Yosef
as vizier, and loving enough to allow Tuya to spend time with
Yosef and Amenhotep.
“Beloved husband—” she wrapped her arms about his
slender waist “—I accept your love with gratitude and freely
give mine in return. You are a good king and a wise man.” She
flushed as a wave of warmth swept through her. “God blessed
me when he brought me to you. May he preserve you while
we are apart.”
“Love of my heart,” Tuthmosis answered, his lips moving
over her cheek with exquisite tenderness, “I’m half returned
even before I go.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
The sun sank toward a cloud-bank piled deep on the west-
ern horizon as the royal company reclined in the shadow of
their tents and recounted the day’s adventures. They had been
away from Thebes a full month, and among their hunting
trophies were scores of antelope, oryx and gazelles. On this
day Pharaoh had shot and killed a lion with his golden bow,
and already the men were composing songs to praise their
divine king’s skill and talent. “Even the lion knows his god
Pharaoh,” they sang, their voices rising in the wilderness.
“He stands and awaits the golden arrow of his king.”
But this hunt lacked the thrill of the chase, for the famine
that had turned Egypt to dust had also wasted the African
wilderness. Not a trace of green could be found. Even the wiry
bushes in the gorges were as desiccated as the mummies of
men dead a thousand years. The act of killing was a mercy,
for the gazelle and the antelope had no grass to graze. The lion
had been sleek and fat, but in time even the king of beasts
would be unable to find prey. Only the vultures that fed on
carrion would thrive during the famine.
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Pharaoh sat by the fire, his eyes fixed on nothing, his
thoughts a thousand miles away. Narmer pressed his lips
together. The pensive look on the king’s face could only mean
that he had grown weary of the hunt and would want to return
to Thebes. Tuthmosis loved hunting, but found little joy in
pursuing skeletal animals with barely enough strength to outrun
the chariots. He had enjoyed pursuing the lion, but as much as
Pharaoh loved the chase, he also revered wild creatures. He
would not want to take another of those magnificent beasts.
Time to present Pharaoh with the ultimate challenge.
“They say,” Narmer said, nodding casually to his king, “that
south of us is a place of great trees with timber enough to build
a house for every man in the world.”
“I have heard of this place,” Pharaoh said, looking up. A
gleam of interest flickered in his eye. “But we have not left
Thebes to hunt for timber.”
“No, but another animal lurks in these forests,” Narmer
went on, fingering the Gold of Praise about his neck. “Ele-
phants. Thousands of them. And on each bull’s snout rests a
king’s ransom in ivory.”
Pharaoh stared into the fire. “I have seen pictures of these
elephants. They are slow, lazy creatures.”
Narmer allowed his mouth to twist into an indulgent smile.
“I have heard they are the greatest challenge a man can face.
They say manhood is proved or lost when a hunter faces an
elephant bull.”
As Narmer had hoped he would, Pharaoh took up the chal-
lenge. “I had thought to return to Thebes tomorrow,” he said,
looking at the trusted warriors who awaited his instruction. “But
we have strength enough for one more journey, don’t we? We
shall find this grove of great timber, and ride without fear into
a herd of these creatures. And I shall bring home twin tusks of
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an elephant bull—one I shall offer to Zaphenath-paneah’s
Almighty God, and the other to Queen Tuya, mother of our
crown prince.”
“As you wish, my king,” Narmer said.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Tuya sat up in the darkness and winced as if her flesh had been
nipped. A dream, a horrible nightmare had disturbed the peace
of her sleep, and her skin crawled with the memory of it.
She lay back down and turned onto her stomach, clinging to
the soft darkness as hard as she could, but sleep would not
return. Finally Tuya rose from the bed, wrapped herself in a light
mantle, and crept out of the bedchamber. Moving to the front
hall of her quarters, she pulled a cord and rang for her servant.
Within moments the maid stood in the room, her eyes
heavy-lidded from sleep. “Quietly—” Tuya kept her voice low
“—run to the vizier’s house. Tell him Tuya summons him, and
the matter is of great importance.”
The girl nodded, then slipped out into the corridor. Tuya
sat and rubbed her hands together, trying to banish worry
from her mind. Yosef would know the meaning of this dream.
And, being Yosef, he would know how to prevent the disaster
it foretold.
At the sound of a quick step in the corridor, Mutemwiya
darted into the shadows. She had grown lonely without
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Narmer’s company and sought to invite sleep by walking
through the palace’s torchlit halls. On a perverse whim, she
had turned into the hall that led to Tuya’s modest chambers.
She breathed a sigh of relief when she recognized Tuya’s
servant in the hall, then her curiosity roused. For what reason
had Tuya summoned her handmaid in the darkest hour of the
night? Had she taken ill? Or did she entertain a guest in
Pharaoh’s absence?
Scarcely daring to hope, Mutemwiya slipped from her
hiding place and followed the slave girl. When the servant
turned, a question in her eyes, Mutemwiya gave her a brilliant
smile. “Do not fear,” she said, her voice echoing in the empty
hall. “Is Queen Tuya well?”
The girl’s eyes narrowed. “Yes.”
“Then she must have need of something. Is there some-
thing I can get for her from my rooms?”
“I think not.” The girl twisted her hands. “I have an
errand to run.”
Mutemwiya lost her patience. “Speak, slave, and tell me
what errand you are on.” She gave the girl a brittle smile. “If
you do not tell the truth, I will tell the guards I found you
stealing from my room. You will spend the rest of your days
in Pharaoh’s prison—”
The maid lowered her voice to a whisper. “Lady Tuya has
sent me for the vizier. That’s all I know.”
Stunned, Mutemwiya let the girl slip away. Why would the
vizier be called at this hour? Was Tuya responding to some
secret communication from the king? No, for if anyone
brought word from the hunting party, she would have heard
from Narmer. Why, then, would Queen Tuya want the vizier
and send an inconspicuous handmaid for him under the cover
of darkness? Mutemwiya slipped toward a hiding place
among the pillars in the corridor. Like the cobra who sits
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motionless until the mama bird hops away from its nest, she
would wait and see what this night brought to pass. Better yet,
she would summon a royal scribe to witness this midnight
liaison—no. A priest. One with power and authority, a man
whose honor might easily be offended…
Quickening her step, Mutemwiya pressed through the halls
and hurried toward the temple of Osiris.
Tuya wrapped her mantle closer as she hurried to answer
the rap on the door. Yosef stood there with her slave, his wig
askew, his face unpainted and strangely drawn in the dim
light. He greeted her in a terse voice: “Is Amenhotep well?”
“Yes—I mean, no. I don’t know.” She dismissed the slave
with a distracted wave and pulled Yosef inside. When the
door had closed behind him, she turned toward the single
candle in the room so he would not see the fear in her eyes.
“Forgive me for pulling you from your family, but I have
suffered much this night on account of a dream.”
“I thought you did not believe in them.”
“How can I not believe?” she answered, wiping a tear from
her eyes. “I saw Pharaoh’s dream come to pass. Your dreams,
as grandiose as they were, have been fulfilled. And now I
stand before you half-blind with terror that the events of my
dream might come to pass…”
She heard him move to the chair; the wood creaked as he
lowered his strong frame into it. “Tell me, Tuya,” he urged.
“God speaks through dreams. He is trying to speak to you.”
Tuya wondered if her fragile soul could bear to relive the
black vision, but she took a deep breath. “I am walking along
the banks of the Nile,” she said, not looking at Yosef. “Bundles
of dry rushes are burning on the watch fires. It is dark, but the
flames leap up and push the darkness back so I can see clearly.”
“What do you see?”
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Tuya shook her head. “I do not understand why, but Amen-
hotep is a baby again, and in my arms. Pharaoh walks beside
me, his hand holding the edge of my skirt.”
She paused, feeling foolish. “I suppose it is quite silly. You
must think me a coward.”
“Never,” Yosef answered. “Go on, please.”
Tuya turned to face him. “There are crocodiles in the water,
and they begin to advance toward me. One has his eyes fastened
on the baby, and the other snaps his jaws toward Pharaoh.”
She broke off and sat on the edge of a chair. “I’m sorry I
summoned you, Yosef. It is probably nothing but a childish
nightmare, brought on by the fact that Pharaoh is away. But
something urged me to fetch you.”
“Go on, Tuya,” Yosef said, his eyes wide. “Please.”
She pressed her lips together and struggled to maintain her
composure. “The rest is too awful, I hesitate to speak it. The
land grows dark, but the flames of the watch fires dance in
the wind while streams of sparks whirl off into the darkness.
I scream and try to shield Yosef as best I can, but while I am
struggling to run from the first crocodile, the second lunges
toward Pharaoh…and drags him into the Nile.”
She shuddered at the memory. “That’s when I awakened.”
She sat silent, waiting for Yosef to assure her that the vision
meant nothing. But he who had never been at a loss for words
met her curious glance with astonished silence.
“I have had this same dream,” he said, his voice trembling.
“But not in many months. God has not spoken to me this time,
Tuya, but to you.”
“But what does it mean?”
His eyes veiled with sorrow. “You don’t need me to tell you.”
She sat motionless as the full meaning of his words sank
into her mind, then she pressed her hands to her knees and
bowed in despair. “Is there nothing we can do? You saw the
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coming famine and you urged Pharaoh to prepare for it! I see
my beloved Tuthmosis dying, but if I can stop him—”
“The famine came.” Yosef lowered his head into his hands.
“And God was merciful, for we were prepared. What you have
seen will come to pass, Tuya. In his mercy, God urges you to
prepare for it.”
He looked at her with weariness while Tuya floundered in
a gulf of despair. “Why,” she whispered, lifting tear-blurred
eyes to his, “when I have just begun to love him as he ought
to be loved?”
Yosef stood and rested his hand on her head. “Take heart
in God’s mercy,” he said, genuine remorse in his voice. “Take
courage in God’s love. He has shown you what is to come and
urges you to be ready.”
“For what? Loneliness and suffering? I have already
walked with those companions. I know them well enough to
understand that the pain of losing someone never goes away.”
“No, it doesn’t. But you must be ready for your son’s sake.
In the dream, the baby remained in your arms. Amenhotep
will need you when Pharaoh is gone.”
“Oh, my dear baby,” she whispered, staring past the lamp
at the elongated shadows on the wall. “You will be a young
and vulnerable pharaoh.”
Mutemwiya waited until the vizier left Tuya’s chamber and
then turned wide eyes on Chike, the high priest of Osiris. “I
thought to have you offer a blessing for Queen Tuya, who cannot
sleep. But apparently our Tuya meets with our vizier this night.”
Chike’s aged eyes peered at the vizier’s retreating form. “It
is an odd time for a meeting.”
“Isn’t it,” Mutemwiya murmured. “I am sorry I have dis-
turbed you, Chike, but I only wanted to be of service to our