The Amulet of Amon-Ra (14 page)

“Meryt-Re called him a pirate,” said Jennifer.

The Pharaoh sat back on her bench and thought for a moment. Then she rose. “Come,” she said, turning and heading away from the pool in the courtyard.

They all followed, Bibi supporting Grandma Jo with an arm under her shoulders. Pebbles crunched under their feet as they pushed past the fragrant branches of the trees. The path they followed ended near a doorway. Hatshepsut stepped through it and beckoned the others forward, into a room filled with light from dozens of oil lamps. Jennifer blinked in the sudden brightness.

Hatshepsut gracefully crossed the room, her sandaled feet skimming the tiled floor. She perched on a square golden chair, resting her elbows on its flat arms, her fingers curled over the snarling leopards' heads that decorated the ends. She nodded at several nearby benches and chairs. Bibi eased Grandma Jo down to a seat, feeling for it with his outstretched fingers, still with his eyes closed. With a start, Jennifer realized that he was blind.

“Bring this Seneb to me,” Hatshepsut instructed Bibi. He nodded and left through the same door that the servants had used. “Neferhotep, do you think you could convince Ka-Aper to attend as well?”

“I think he still trusts me,” said Neferhotep. “I have taken pains to assure him I know nothing of politics.”

“Good. We will see what he says when we tell him we know about his…business,” said Hatshepsut.

Neferhotep followed Bibi. Jennifer and Grandma Jo sat in silence with Hatshepsut. Grandma Jo rummaged in her black bag, then wiped her face on a scrap of linen that she'd found. She squinted at something that had fallen out with the linen, then shrugged and dropped it back in.

The Pharaoh waited patiently, not even tapping her fingers on the chair arms. She could have been one of her own statues.

Jennifer sat back and looked around the room. A few small representations of the Pharaoh, some in men's clothing, and some in women's, stood on tables and cluttered shelves around the richly-decorated room. The furniture, strewn about in various places, was delicate and graceful, most of it painted gold.

One corner held a short cupboard, its doors painted with representations of the gods. On top, Jennifer recognized the red and white double crown of Upper and Lower Egypt, resting in splendid isolation. The image of a man wearing a split white crown was painted on the wall above the cupboard. Jennifer remembered him from the museum—Amon-Ra, the city-god of Thebes. A naked baby, one finger in its mouth, stared up at him.

Hatshepsut was watching Jennifer, an amused smile on her face.

“You are wondering if Amon-Ra truly is my father. When my father died, my brother Thutmose the Second became Pharaoh, even though he was only the son of my father's second wife. I became Great Royal Queen,” said Hatshepsut. She smiled sadly. “When Thutmose died, many bureaucrats and officials immediately began to think they could gain power. I had to take steps or my country might have suffered from their greed.”

“So you claimed the crown for yourself,” said Grandma Jo.

“There was much opposition to it.” Hatshepsut sighed. “I did have some support. My good friend Senmut. Some officials, some priests. Even Ka-Aper—then. I know my action was not popular. Then, one night Amon-Ra came to me in a dream. He said I was his daughter.”

“Really?” asked Jennifer. “His daughter?”

“Yes! Of course, all Pharaohs are children to the gods, as Horus was to Osiris and Isis,” said Hatshepsut. “So as daughter to Thutmose the First, and to the god Amon-Ra, I was therefore doubly suited to sit on the throne, even though I am a woman. I am the female Horus.”

“Was it really Amon-Ra?”

“I do not know. But sometimes, late at night, I have glimpsed a man, in a white kilt and headdress, glowing with life…well. I cannot say.” Hatshepsut leaned back in her chair, her gaze focused on something beyond the wall.

“Did you really wear men's clothing?” asked Jennifer, peering at one of the small statues.

“Indeed I did,” said Hatshepsut. “Only a few times, when I was much younger. There were many who said they wanted a man to reign. So I obliged them. It amused me greatly to dress like one—fake beard, short kilt, a man's headdress, and all. My enemies found it discomfiting. It also shut them up. It was most satisfactory.”

There was a noise from the corridor outside the room. Jennifer heard voices, but couldn't make out the words.

“Ah,” said Hatshepsut, with a grim smile.

Ka-Aper burst into the room, his cape swirling behind him, followed by Neferhotep and a couple of guards. Ka-Aper stopped talking when he saw Hatshepsut. His gaze skipped between her and Jennifer, and his eyes narrowed. Finally, he smiled and bowed.

“Your Majesty!” he said. “You've found the demon! Well done.”

“Actually, it was my loyal servant Bibi who succeeded,” said Hatshepsut. “He brought her to me.”

“This is a temple matter. He should have brought her to us,” said Ka-Aper. He gestured at Neferhotep, who had stepped back a few paces.

The two guards stood on either side of Ka-Aper, their hands on their sword hilts. Hatshepsut looked at them and then at Neferhotep, who nodded.

“Seize him!” she ordered.

The two guards drew their short swords and gripped Ka-Aper's arms. He struggled briefly, but couldn't break their hold.

“Unhand me!” he shouted.

“These guards are loyal to the Pharaoh,” said Neferhotep. “My Lord Ka-Aper, you are under arrest.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” he said. “What for?”

“For treason,” said Hatshepsut. “For conspiring to end my life. And for tomb robbing.”

Ka-Aper's painted eyebrows rose. “Another conspiracy? You have stopped many during your reign, have you not? Real or imaginary! Are you now suspecting even the priests of Amon-Ra—your father?”

“No man is immune to the desire for power—not even a priest,” said Hatshepsut.

Ka-Aper's face looked as though he had a clever idea. “Your Majesty,” he purred, “it is easy to see that this
demon girl has clouded your mind. You are not thinking clearly.”

“I am thinking clearly, thank you,” said Hatshepsut. “You were heard plotting with your friends to kill me. We know who at least one of your co-conspirators is.”

“Who might that be?”

“Seneb, the fish merchant,” said Hatshepsut.

Ka-Aper laughed. “Why would I consort with a seller of fish? The idea is preposterous.”

“I agree,” said Hatshepsut, “but we will ask the man himself. If I am not mistaken, here he comes now.”

Jennifer looked towards the doorway. Sure enough, Bibi was entering with a man, his skinny arm clamped in one of Bibi's large, muscular hands. Jennifer wrinkled her nose as he drew nearer. It was Seneb, all right, despite the fact that he was dressed better than she'd seen him in the market. He wore gold jewelry and an intricately pleated white kilt. A lumpy leather pouch dangled from a strap slung crosswise over his chest. The smell of fish wafted from him, making Grandma Jo wrinkle her nose. Seneb's gaze darted from Ka-Aper to the Pharaoh and back again.

“Who is this?” asked Ka-Aper.

“Why, it is Seneb the fish merchant,” said Hatshepsut. “Do you not know each other?”

“I have never seen this man in my life,” said Ka-Aper.

“Seneb? Is this true?” asked Hatshepsut.

“I…,” said Seneb, licking his lips. “O-of course.” He chuckled nervously. “Why would Ka-Aper know a simple fish merchant like me?”

“Yet you know his name,” said Hatshepsut.

“Of course,” said Seneb, with a weak chuckle. “Wh-who doesn't know the famous Ka-Aper, priest of Amon-Ra?”

Hatshepsut stared at him. “Very well. Bibi, take him away. You know what to do with him.”

Seneb glanced up at Bibi, who grinned.

“Yes, your Majesty,” he said, starting to drag Seneb from the room.

“No! Wait!” said Seneb. “I do know him. He knows me! We've, uh, had some business together.”

Ka-Aper hissed in frustration.

“Like tomb robbing?” asked Hatshepsut.

“How did you know…I mean, no, of course not,” said Seneb. “Not tomb robbing.”

“Liar,” said Hatshepsut. “You were heard, speaking together. And then you were identified.”

Seneb glanced at Neferhotep, sneering. “You? Kai said—”

“Kai?” said Neferhotep. “The temple priest?”

Jennifer remembered him—the one who had tried to take the amulets from her.

“Don't be a fool,” said Ka-Aper. “Neferhotep did not hear anyone.”

“Then who…” Seneb began. “The intruder! The one you chased…”

“I chased no one. I was not anywhere that I could chase an intruder,” said Ka-Aper, with a meaningful look at Seneb. “It is, I think, this child who claims to have heard you. This demon child.”

Seneb's look of fright turned thoughtful. A slow smile spread across his face. “A mere child. One who is accused of being a demon. Who would believe her?”

“I believe her,” said Neferhotep.

Ka-Aper whirled on him, then bared his teeth. “Neferhotep, I knew there was something about you I didn't trust. You have always been one of the Pharaoh's supporters.”

“Pharaoh Hatshepsut belongs on the throne,” said Neferhotep, his chin lifting. “She has the right, and she has proved it over the years.”

“Even if the gods have abandoned our country now?” asked Ka-Aper.

“They have not abandoned us!” said Hatshepsut.

Ka-Aper crossed his arms over his chest. “Your people are suffering, O Pharaoh. Do you not know? For seven long years, the Nile's great inundation has not flooded the Black Land as it should. Without the water, and the life-giving black mud that the river deposits, the soil has become dry and dead. No crops grow. The cattle go hungry. So do the people.”

“There is still grain stored away,” said Hatshepsut. “My people can still make bread.”

“Those reserves are becoming low. One more poor year will do it,” said Ka-Aper. “The granaries will be empty. Then what will you do?”

“The flood will come again,” said Hatshepsut. “This is but a test of our faith. In the meantime, we can trade.”

“With what?” asked Ka-Aper. “Your ‘peaceful' reign has brought us no gold from other lands with which to trade for imported foods.”

“Kemet will survive,” said Hatshepsut. “We always have. I am and will be its Pharaoh.”

“Not if the people have their say, O Great Queen,” said Ka-Aper.

“Do not call me that,” said Hatshepsut.

“Why not? It is your rightful title,” said Ka-Aper. “The people will side with me. They are worried. Especially since demons like this girl abound in your land.”

“You think her exorcism will appease them?” asked Neferhotep.

“No, not her exorcism,” said Ka-Aper, grinning at him. “Her death.”

Jennifer clenched her fists.

“Her death!” said Neferhotep. “You can't kill her!”

“Frankly, I do not care if she lives or dies,” said Ka-Aper. “The threat is what matters.”

“I don't understand,” said Neferhotep.

“I think I do,” said Hatshepsut. “If I prevent this child's death, my officials will be convinced that this demon has influenced me, which will prove me weak and untrustworthy. Since I will have shown such poor judgment in befriending this abomination, they will demand that I step down.”

“As you know you should,” said Ka-Aper. “You were never meant to be on the throne.”

“If I do allow her death, then the people will think me a cruel ruler, a killer of children,” said Hatshepsut. “The outcome would be the same.”

“After which, you would take your own life,” said Ka-Aper. “Out of grief.”

“By what method?”

“Poison, of course,” said Ka-Aper.

“A cowardly way to die,” said Hatshepsut.

“Just so.”

“Either way, Thutmose ends up on the throne,” said Hatshepsut. “You, no doubt, will be his chief priest.”

“It is only what I deserve,” said Ka-Aper, giving her a mocking little bow.

“My nephew, however he might irk me with his warlike ways, does not deserve to end up as a puppet king,” said Hatshepsut. “I have every intention of making Thutmose Pharaoh—when he is ready. He is young yet, and inexperienced.”

“Young, yes, and full of vigor. Many are loyal to him, your Majesty,” said Ka-Aper. “They believe he should be wearing the double crown. He may be inexperienced, but so is every king. It is experience he can only gain from the doing. You have carefully kept him from getting any, tucked away as he has been, under my schooling.”

“A mistake, I now realize,” said Hatshepsut. “I will no longer allow you to influence him.”

“How? Will you remove me from office? said Ka-Aper. “Prince Thutmose would never agree to it.”

“He has no say in it,” said Hatshepsut.

“I think you will find that he does,” said Ka-Aper. “He has had enough of your many suspected conspiracies. He will not believe you.”

“Then I will have you arrested as a tomb robber,” said Hatshepsut.

Ka-Aper laughed. “A tomb robber! No one will believe that. Whatever this child has to say, her death will silence it.”

“She will not die!” said Neferhotep.

“We shall see,” said Ka-Aper. “Besides, you have no other proof that I was with Seneb.”

“I will find proof,” said Hatshepsut. “Somehow.”

Ka-Aper laughed at the Pharaoh's look of frustration.

“I had some proof,” said Jennifer. “I had some beads.”

“Beads?” said Hatshepsut.

“I found them on the stairs of that warehouse,” said Jennifer. “I thought they might be from someone's tomb.”

“Let me see them,” said Hatshepsut.

Jennifer hung her head. “I can't. I lost them. In the hallway.”

Ka-Aper, who had tensed briefly, relaxed again.

Grandma Jo reached into her black bag. “You mean these beads?” she asked, holding the twist of wire with its blue and gold beads in her palm. “They were in my bag. I couldn't figure out where they'd come from.”

“You must have picked them up after I bumped into you in the hall,” said Jennifer, taking the beads from her and handing them to Hatshepsut.

“Hm. I believe I have seen something like these before,” she said. She glanced at Ka-Aper, then rose gracefully. He struggled in the grasp of the soldiers as she approached him. When she reached him, she stared into his eyes. Then her hand darted out, quick as a snake, to fling the head of Ka-Aper's leopard skin over his shoulder. The necklace that had been hidden beneath it was composed of the same blue and gold beads. Some of them were missing.

“Ah,” said Neferhotep, on a long-drawn out sigh.

Ka-Aper lowered his chin. “The old woman could have found them anywhere. In the palace corridor, for example.”

“There are more gaps in your necklace,” said Hatshepsut, scanning the rows of beads. “Perhaps we may find more evidence, back where you lost these.”

“You left a trail,” hissed Seneb.

“Quiet,” said Ka-Aper, glaring at him. He turned to Hatshepsut. “Do you truly think this will convict me?”

“It will cast doubt,” said Hatshepsut. “My nephew, Thutmose, will not care to be seen consorting with criminals.”

Ka-Aper shook his head. “He will not believe it. It is not enough.”

Hatshepsut's fist clenched around the beads.

“What about Parahotep's map?” asked Jennifer. “He said he had it.”

“Of course!” said Neferhotep, snapping his fingers. “When I looked for it in my quarters, it was gone.”

“We will have his rooms searched,” said Hatshepsut.

“No,” said Neferhotep. “Something like that, he would keep on his person.” He approached Ka-Aper and untied the small leather pouch that hung at Ka-Aper's waist. Neferhotep kept his gaze locked on Ka-Aper's as he dug around in it. He pulled his fist out around something and handed it to the Pharaoh.

It was a tightly-rolled scrap of papyrus. With her lips pressed into a thin line, she shook it out and looked at it.

“Together, this, and the pieces of your necklace are enough to condemn you as a tomb robber,” she said to Ka-Aper.

“But not as a murderer,” Ka-Aper said lightly.

“True,” said Hatshepsut.

“Perhaps this will help,” said Bibi. He reached into Seneb's leather pouch and brought out a small round alabaster vessel. “I felt it earlier, when the guards brought him to me.” He handed the vessel to Neferhotep.

Neferhotep wiggled the stopper loose and sniffed at the contents. “Poison,” he said to the Pharaoh.

Seneb's gaze skittered from Ka-Aper to the Pharaoh. “I was supposed to put that in your food, M-Majesty. But you didn't eat anything at the feast!”

“Quiet, fool!” said Ka-Aper.

“That is enough proof for me,” said Hatshepsut.

“I demand a trial!” said Ka-Aper.

“Where you would no doubt seduce any judges to your side,” said Hatshepsut. “No.”

The Pharaoh stepped back. Slowly and deliberately, she crossed her arms diagonally over her chest, her palms flat against the opposite shoulders. “Witness this, all who are within the sound of my voice. I hereby pronounce judgment upon these traitors to the Double Crown. As I am Pharaoh, I am also High Priestess of Amon-Ra. Ka-Aper and Seneb, by spoken word and physical evidence, you are hereby known to be treasonous. I strip you of your office, and sentence you to exile in the Western Desert. May the gods have mercy on you.” She lowered her arms.

Ka-Aper stood still, his face blank. Then it twisted into a mask of hatred. Jennifer shuddered. He didn't even look human anymore.

“Exile!” he spat.

“You deserve worse,” Neferhotep growled.

“My reign is built upon peace,” Hatshepsut reminded him. “I will not have bloodshed.”

“You are weak,” said Ka-Aper.

“Oh?” said Hatshepsut. “You will have no food, no water, no way to return. The desert will be your executioner.”

Seneb sagged in Bibi's grip. Neferhotep put his hands behind his back and watched Ka-Aper. His lips moved soundlessly.

Ka-Aper glanced at Seneb in disgust, then raked Neferhotep with his gaze. “Very well,” he said. “Exile it is. But do you think that if you kill my body, the forces arrayed against you will stop? Those who agree with me—and there are many!—will continue my work. You will not catch them all. They believe that you have stolen the throne from its rightful ruler, and your blasphemy will be repaid in the coin of destruction.”

“Destruction?” said Hatshepsut.

“After your death, they will erase the memory of the woman who dared to be King,” said Ka-Aper. His voice was like a hammer, pounding on the Pharaoh. “There will be none to stop them.”

“My nephew…,” Hatshepsut began.

“Your nephew will agree with them,” said Ka-Aper. “He has been denied for too long.”

“I will deal with him when the time comes,” said Hatshepsut. She turned away from Ka-Aper and Seneb and reseated herself on her chair. “Take them away!”

The two guards yanked on Ka-Aper's arms, pulling him back from Hatshepsut and the others. He briefly struggled again, then finally gave up and walked with them, his head held high. As he passed Jennifer, he gave her an odd little smile. The two guards marched him out of the room between them. Bibi followed, dragging Seneb, who sobbed uncontrollably.

Jennifer took a deep breath in the sudden silence.

“They're gone, your Majesty,” said Neferhotep. “Ka-Aper won't trouble you anymore.”

“Oh, I expect he will trouble me for some time,” said Hatshepsut. “So will his followers.”

“We will find them and defeat them,” said Neferhotep, his fists by his sides. “I promise it.”

“Faithful one,” said Hatshepsut. “I rely on friends like you.” She looked at Jennifer. “And you, child. Thank you for all your help. Be assured, I will reward you for your efforts.”

Jennifer shrugged. “You don't need to.”

“I have something for you,” said Neferhotep. “I found this in Ka-Aper's pouch.” He opened his hand and held it in front of Jennifer. The scarab amulet lay in his palm.

“Oh!” said Jennifer, reaching for it. Neferhotep jerked his hand back a little, then held it out again, his gaze steady on hers. Jennifer picked it up by the thong and slipped it over her head. It thumped reassuringly against her chest, nestling amongst the folds of her dress. “Thank you.”

Neferhotep frowned briefly, then nodded and stepped back. He let out a breath.

“All is well,” he said.

The sound of running feet, slapping the floor of the corridor outside Hatshepsut's room, interrupted him. One of the guards who had escorted Ka-Aper ran into the room. His nose was bleeding.

“Your Majesty!” he gasped out. “Ka-Aper has escaped!”

“How?” barked Neferhotep.

“Our fault,” the guard said miserably. “He was going so quietly. He wiggled out of our hold somehow and knocked our heads together. Sent us both reeling.”

“Where did he go?” asked Neferhotep.

The guard shook his head. “He ran away—incredibly fast! Like the wind. We think he is still somewhere in the palace.”

“What about Seneb?” asked Hatshepsut.

“We still have him. Bibi thrust him at us and went after Ka-Aper.”

“He must not escape,” said Hatshepsut. “Call out as many as you can and search the palace.”

The guard nodded and dashed off the way he had come.

“I'm sure you'll find him,” said Grandma Jo.

“He is found,” a voice growled from the door to the courtyard. Ka-Aper sprinted into the room, heading for the Pharaoh. A knife glinted in his hand.

“No!” said Jennifer, diving between him and Hatshepsut.