We left Akhmin early the next morning. The first pale light of dawn made the river sparkle and revealed the glorious royal ship that my aunt had sent to bring us to Abydos. Bit-Bit and I were overwhelmed by the sight of such a splendid ship with its towering central mast, upcurved prow and stern, and the massive oar used to steer it and propel it when the wind or the current failed. I owed a debt to the magnificence of that ship. It dazzled me so thoroughly that it diverted my mind from thinking about the river itself and how closely the sacred waters had come to claiming me. Its sheer size and obvious strength lent me a measure of confidence, though from time to time I felt a small chill run over my skin when I gazed too long at the river.
Because we were heading upstream from Akhmin, the winds would carry us. We watched in fascination as the sailors unfurled the great sail with its painted image of Nekhebet, the vulture goddess whose mighty wings gave special protection to mothers, children, and Pharaoh himself.
Father and Mery retired to the richly decorated cabin in the center of the boat. Bit-Bit ran back and forth happily, investigating everything and crying out in delight when we pushed off from the shore and our journey truly began. She only settled down when Father stuck his head out of the cabin to command that someone tie a rope around my little sister’s waist, in case her excitement made her careless and she wound up overboard.
With a strong wind filling our sail, the voyage to Abydos wasn’t long. I was grateful. Even though I came to enjoy sailing, Berett was plainly terrified. As soon as I sat down facing the prow of the ship, she clung to me like a thornbush and wouldn’t let me move. I should have thanked her: Her fear of the river forced me to banish the last traces of my own. Somehow I found it easier to be brave for someone who needed me than to be brave for myself alone. Father stuck his head out of the cabin a second time, saw how things were, and told Bit-Bit to bring Berett and me anything we needed. My sister was ecstatic to have an excuse for scampering around the ship again. She must have asked me at least fifty times if I needed a drink or something to eat.
“I’m fine,” I said. “But why don’t you ask Berett if she’s hungry?”
“Why bother? She can’t talk.”
“She won’t talk. There’s a difference.”
Bit-Bit shrugged. “Can’t, won’t, if I don’t get an answer out of her, it’s all the same.”
“Until it changes,” I maintained. I turned to the child. “You’ll speak again someday. You will. Thoth will use his wisdom to heal you, Isis will comfort you, and the god of physicians, Imhotep, will send me a dream telling me how we’re going to find your voice again. Until then, you’re safe. Do you understand?” Berett stared, then began to suck her fingers. I heard Bit-Bit sigh deeply.
“I’ll go get her some fruit. If she’s hungry, she’ll eat it; if she’s not, I will.”
By the time our ship reached Abydos, Berett had gobbled down three handfuls of dates, two of figs, a whole bunch of grapes, and was looking a little green. Her skin was much paler than mine, so the ill effects of her over eating were obvious. I held her by the shoulders and Bit-Bit kept her curly red-brown hair out of her face while she was sick over the side of the boat. Then I picked her up and carried her ashore. She hid her face against my neck, her thin arms and legs wrapped around me like a monkey.
“Nefertiti, you’re going to have to learn that you can’t give a child everything she wants,” Father said as he watched me stagger along with Berett.
“She won’t do it again,” I said, resolute. “She’s smart; she’s learned her lesson. Haven’t you, Berett?”
Father shook his head sadly over the child’s silence. “How could the priest have done such a thing? I’ve known him for years; I used to admire him. He came from one of the poorest families in Akhmin and used his mind to work his way up to the high priesthood, but his past still rides him. Wealth means everything to him. Even if he had all of Pharaoh’s treasures, he’d see it as nothing more than a strand of spiderweb holding him just above a bottomless valley of poverty.”
The messenger who’d brought my aunt’s command was already off the boat and out of sight by the time I set foot on land. We watched him race away; Father chuckled.
“Off to tell Tiye we’re here, and probably praying with every breath that she’s in a good mood. Poor man, what a way to earn his bread!”
I was only half listening. Between carrying Berett and taking in the wonders of Abydos, I was distracted. I had heard many tales about this city of temples, shrines, and graves. It was a place of immense age and holiness, where it was said that the bodies of our first pharaohs and their queens were buried. Even more awesome was the lore that named Abydos as the burial place of the god Osiris himself! We walked on sacred ground.
The messenger was back swiftly, accompanied by two teams of eight servants carrying heavy chairs on poles. The chairs themselves were made of gleaming black ebony wood, carved and enhanced with red and blue paint as well as flashes of gold on the arms, legs, and carrying poles. The seats were wide enough for two people to ride comfortably. Bit-Bit squeaked and clapped her hands in delighted anticipation of our glorious ride.