Oh, I was so very, very wrong!
“Afraid?” I snapped. “If I was so afraid, would I be here? No, I’d be in the royal palace at Thebes, eating roast quail and honey cakes, dressed in the finest linen, with gold around my neck instead of mud and insect bites! If I was as fearful as you seem to think, I never would have stood up to my aunt Tiye. I’d be safe, I’d be fed, and I’d be married to your brother!”
Amenophis was slack-jawed at my outburst. His stammer returned in full force as he tried to apologize, but I was a captive of my own anger and refused to listen to him. Instead, I lay down on the flattened rushes, curled onto my side, and ignored him. I heard his repentant words trickle away into silence, then Nava’s small voice whispering, “Why is Nefertiti so mad at you?”
“I said something that hurt her feelings,” he replied, speaking in such a low, miserable voice that I could barely hear him. “It was wrong to do that, and what I said was wrong, too. She’s never been a coward, not for as long as I’ve known her. I was the one who was afraid of my own shadow.”
“You’re not like that now,” Nava said. I could picture her sitting beside Amenophis, taking his hand and gazing at him with steadfast eyes. “And I’ll bet she wasn’t always brave.”
He chuckled softly. “I can’t picture that, but I think I’d like to. Even if I only imagined her as someone who might need me as much as I need her, it would—it might let me think I had a chance to say—to tell her—”
“But she does need you,” Nava cut in. “For finding food. Thank you for the eggs.”
This time he laughed louder. “At least I’m good for something. Now sleep, Nava. We’ll have to be up early.”
The next morning, we were awake well before dawn and began our march inland, along the irrigation ditch. We moved as fast as caution would allow. Shadows still blurred the ground, and we didn’t want to take a tumble into the canal. Nava scurried to keep up with Amenophis’s long stride, and I brought up the rear.
I intended to keep my eyes on Nava at all times, but I couldn’t help letting my gaze stray. A morning breeze carried the scent of smoke and the faint sound of human activity from downstream. I paused for a moment and looked back. We were clear of the reeds, and there was only flat land with a few widely spaced stands of trees before me. In full daylight, we would have a completely clear view all the way to the river. As things were, I thought I saw the solid outline of a large tent surrounded by a scattering of smaller shapes.
Thutmose’s encampment, I thought. Those must be his men, still sleeping. I sighed, thinking of how they all had breakfast waiting for them. Stop that, I told myself. Stop pining for what you can’t have and start walking. And walk faster, or they’ll see you as easily as you see them. Go!
“Nefertiti?” Amenophis spoke my name hesitantly. He came back to see what was keeping me. “What are you looking at?”
“Nothing,” I said curtly, and barged past him along the bank of the canal. By the time the Aten showed his bright disk, we’d reached the ruined house that Amenophis had discovered the night before. As he’d said, there was no roof left on the place, but the two walls that still stood were tall enough to hold a wedge of blessed shade. We settled down and slept for a while.
I woke up with Nava shaking me gently by the shoulder. Her hand felt damp and cool. “Look at what I did,” she crowed, presenting a fat tilapia for my inspection.
“When did you catch this big fellow?” I asked.
“A little while ago. I woke up, but you and Amenophis were still sleeping, so I went down to the canal and—”
“Splash?” I said, remembering how Amenophis had described Nava’s first catch. “You really are a little osprey,” I said, admiring the fish.
Amenophis rolled over, sat up, and yawned. “What’s going on? Did I miss something?”
“Not if you can build us a fire,” I told him. “We’ve got food!”
“As soon as we eat this one, I’m going back down to the canal to catch more,” Nava announced.
“I’ll go with you,” I said. “Maybe you can teach me your fishing secrets. Then we’ll have twice as much to eat. Amenophis, why don’t you make a cookfire while we’re gone?”
“Gladly,” he said. “There are some sycamore trees nearby. With luck, I’ll be able to gather plenty of wood.” He stood up and started away from the ruins.
I caught up to him in four strides. “Nava can start fishing without me. Could you use some help?”
“Oh, yes!” My offer delighted him, but he looked a little doubtful as well. “I’m forgiven for—for saying you were—”
“I was afraid,” I said. “Afraid something had happened to you. I couldn’t stand the thought of it, especially so soon after we found one another again.”
He lowered his head. “I’m honored that you care about me so much. I’ve never had such a—such a friend before.”
Is that what we are to one another? I thought. Is that all? But I had no answer to my own question, only a strange feeling that danced away from me whenever I tried to give it a name.
We reached the place where the sycamores grew. The trees were dead, and an abundance of fallen twigs and small branches littered the ground. We were able to gather more than enough wood for a cookfire in a very short time. I left Amenophis squatting over his bow drill and a handful of tinder and went to help Nava catch more fish in the canal.
“Do you smell that, Nava?” I said as we stood in the water, waiting for the telltale flash of scales. I sniffed loudly and smiled. “Smoke! Amenophis has the fire going. Soon we’ll be able to eat the—”