My cheeks turned hot. Marry Amenophis? Wasn’t I rushing things with such childish dreams? He said he loved me, but the Black Land was filled with songs and stories about young men and women who fell madly in love only to go their separate ways when love faded away. How could I know if his heart yearned for us to be together always? I was building a future out of sand.
In the end, Amenophis accepted the gift of perfume to please the giver, and neither he nor I bothered to correct Kawit’s romantic notions about us. We didn’t have the opportunity. The sturdy woman let us know that we were going to be moving out of the cave, like it or not, in the dim time before the next morning’s dawn. “Samut’s been busy working for your benefit, running up and down the riverbank, seeking a boat whose master is willing to take on some passengers,” she informed us as she scraped the stubble of travel from Amenophis’s head. “It cost him his best necklace, the pretty blue one that he loves, but he was glad to do it. He kept talking about how you were the ones responsible for bringing him back his only real gem.”
She paused and lowered the razor. Her eyes were moist with tears. “And that’s true. You saved that sweet little boy, may the gods bless you forever. Samut’s got a heart that’s much too trusting. If he’d consented to help those ruffians on his own, he’d’ve done it believing that they’d give him back his son and leave them both alone after. But my brother told me that their ringleader—the pig you stuck so neatly with that arrow, my lady—he’d’ve murdered them both as soon as Samut gave him the way into Lord Iritsen’s tomb. My brother told me he didn’t want any part of that trickery—said that a bargain’s a bargain—but he knew his leader well enough to know that any objections would buy his own death.”
“An honest thief,” Amenophis muttered ironically.
Kawit heard, and slapped his newly shaved skull. “You save that sharp tongue of yours for making a proper life for this pretty lady,” she scolded. “She’s much too beautiful to be dragged down by a man—a boy, more like it—who can’t provide her with bread, or a roof over her head, or—”
“I pray daily that the time will come when I can give her all of that and more,” Amenophis said solemnly.
He was a little too solemn. Kawit thought he was being sarcastic again and slapped his head a second time.
We said our farewells to Kawit that night and were roused from sleep the next morning by Samut’s urgent summons. The grateful tomb worker led us away from the land of the dead, back to the lush verge of the sacred river. A medium-sized sailing vessel was waiting for us in the shallows. There were only five men on board, and they were already getting the ship set to sail. The master of the ship stood at the stern, supervising his crew. Samut hailed him and we were curtly ordered to come on board. Samut took Nava on his back, leaving Amenophis and me to wade out to the ship on our own. I had to tie up my new dress so that it wouldn’t snare my legs. Samut’s late wife had been a much larger person than me, so there was a lot of linen to get out of my way. It made clambering onto the ship difficult, but not impossible. Once I was aboard, I leaned over the side so that Samut could hand me the covered basket where Ta-Miu was once more curled up, sleeping peacefully while her human servants did everything to maintain her comfort. Then and there, I decided that if the gods ever allowed our souls to return to the world, I’d ask Isis to let me come back as a cat.
By the time the dawn was a pink and golden sliver in the east, we were sailing downriver, waving good-bye to Samut. The voyage to Dendera didn’t take long at all. We had the current on our side, an experienced shipmaster and crew, and the blessing of Hapy. If not for the fact that the ship was a merchant vessel that had to stop twice along the way to receive and deliver cargo, we’d have been in Dendera that same day.
As it was, we approached the dock of Hathor’s favored city next morning, early enough for the air to be fresh and filled with the sounds of celebration. We heard the first strains of music, the clapping of many hands, and the clamor of voices raised in joyous song long before our ship was tied up and we were allowed to land.
“Just look at that,” the shipmaster said, hands on hips, head shaking in disapproval. “Scarce three souls on the dock. No need to ask where the rest have gone. This festival makes the city crazy. Dancing in the streets, music, flowers everywhere, and palm wine until your head spins!” He frowned fiercely, then broke into a smile and winked. “I can hardly wait.”
I turned to Amenophis and sighed happily. “That’s a relief. All that fretting we did was for nothing. It looks like your brother didn’t station his men around the city to keep us from reaching your parents after all.”
“He might’ve realized he didn’t have enough soldiers for the job,” Amenophis replied. “Or else he tried it, but the lure of the festival was too much for them and they sneaked away. Whichever it was, I’m relieved. I had no idea how we were going to handle the situation if we had encountered them.”
“Oh, that’s easy,” Nava asserted. “If anyone tries to stop us, Nefertiti can stick them full of arrows, too!” She hadn’t stopped crowing about my skill with the bow since the instant I’d saved Samut’s child.
“Nava, I did not stick that man full of arrows, and I would not want to do that to anyone else,” I said. “The only reason I shot him was to make him drop his dagger before he hurt the little boy.”
“But you’d do it to save us, wouldn’t you?” She appealed to me with her eyes.
“Only if there was no other choice. And today there is, so no one’s going to be shooting anyone else, understand?” I gave her a crooked grin. “Don’t look so disappointed.”