Sphinx's Princess

“You look disappointed, Nefertiti,” Aunt Tiye said. “Isn’t Thebes grand enough for you?”

 

 

“I’m not disappointed, Aunt Tiye, it’s just—”

 

“—you expected to be carried to the palace.” She’d read my thoughts and relished my look of astonishment. “Don’t worry. We’ll arrive at the palace in much more magnificent style than any sedan chair. Such things are old-fashioned, after all, but Abydos nurtures the past. Here at Thebes, we turn to the rising sun. You’ll see.”

 

I fell into step behind her. With our escort before and behind us, we walked under our sunshades away from the dock and up a wide street where the people ran to clear out of our path but clung to the sides of the road to acclaim their queen. Their cheers worked a potent magic spell that made Aunt Tiye seem to grow taller with every step. I dropped back a little and made a subtle gesture for Henenu to catch up to me. The servants knew him well enough to recognize his status as one of the court’s most respected scribes. Soon he and Berett were walking beside me under a sunshade of their own.

 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be with you on the ship,” I whispered to the little girl. “I know you were in good hands with Henenu, but I missed you very much. We won’t be parted again once we reach the palace. It will be a strange place at first. I don’t know what to expect there, so I’m a little nervous, but I think your music will help me to be calm; maybe even to be brave.” I smiled at her. “What do you think?” I didn’t expect an answer.

 

Berett shifted the harp in her arms. One small hand clasped mine. A low, musical sound threaded its way shakily through the morning air. My heart leaped as I realized that my little Berett was humming a tune. It was the first sound I’d ever heard come from her lips. Those few fragile notes made me so happy that I wanted to stop in the middle of the street and sweep her up into my arms.

 

Instead, I was the one snatched off my feet and swung through the air. I screamed as a sharp-faced man lifted me in his arms and set me down again in the blue shell of a chariot drawn by a pair of brown horses. They whinnied and skittered in their harnesses, but the man leaped lightly up behind me, seized the reins, and brought them under control. My aunt’s laughter sounded like a crow’s rough cawing.

 

“By Amun, Nefertiti, haven’t you ever mounted a chariot before?” she called out gleefully from her own place beside a white-kilted driver. The chariot she stood in was red and gold, the high wheels painted with multicolored bands and the two white horses in harnesses crowned with blue plumes. She pointed at the man behind me and added, “Go swiftly, but see to it that my niece reaches the palace in safety.” She didn’t threaten him with any dire consequence if I didn’t survive my first chariot ride unharmed, but I saw him turn pale anyway.

 

“My lady, please hold on to the rail tightly,” he whispered to me. “I’ll hold you, if you’ll allow it. It would be better if—”

 

“Wait,” I said. I looked to the queen’s chariot. Her driver slapped the reins on the horses’ backs and they took flight like a pair of matched arrows, the light vehicle bouncing and swaying wildly as it skimmed the road. The instant it was out of sight, I jumped down from the chariot bed and ran back to Berett. The child crouched in the street, clinging to her harp as if it were the only thing holding her to the earth. Loyal Henenu stood by her, but every time he tried to coax her to look up at him, she shrank away. The sight of me being yanked away from her had renewed old terrors for the little one. If she curled up her body any tighter, she’d disappear.

 

I knelt in the dust beside her. “Little bird, look at me,” I told her gently. “I’m here; I’m all right. Remember what I told you? We won’t be parted once we reach the palace. I meant that. You must trust me, Berett. You aren’t my slave or even my servant; you’re my sister. I’d give my life to save you.”

 

She lifted her head and looked deep into my eyes. Very slowly, very distinctly, she nodded, and then she put her fingertips to her lips, kissed them, and pressed them to my cheek.

 

Once I had her calm again, I let her know that I’d see her in the palace. I remounted the chariot without my driver’s help and took a wide stance on the floorboards, my hands clutching the rail. A crack of the reins on the horses’ rumps and we were off. The charioteer guided his team with one arm around me, which forced him to give up full control of the team. This is stupid, I thought as my teeth clacked together when he gave the reins yet another too-sharp jerk. Riding this way isn’t safer; it’s only more awkward. “I can hold on by myself,” I spoke up. “Use both hands to steer. We’ll travel faster.”

 

“But, my lady—”

 

“Faster,” I repeated. “Or do you think the queen likes being kept waiting?” He did as I told him. I could hardly believe it!