“Is Dendera the only city we’ll pass?” Nava asked.
“Y-yes. I mean, I’m not sure about that, either. The last time I traveled there, I was much younger. Even though I wasn’t a child anymore, Mother kept sending me into the cabin for most of the trip. I think she was afraid I’d fall into the river if I wandered around the deck. Thutmose made fun of me, called me a little lotus petal.”
“He’s the lotus petal,” Nava decreed. “Not brave like us. He’d never leave the palace to help his friends.” She hugged me.
“Maybe not,” I said. “But he will leave the palace to come after me. If we don’t know how many days’ sail we’ve got ahead of us, we’d better start as soon as possible, to put plenty of distance between us and him.”
“Do we have to go right now?” Nava asked plaintively. “I’m hungry.”
I tousled her thick hair fondly. “Of course we’ll have breakfast first. We’ll just have it as quickly as possible.” I stood up and shook dust from my dress. The cloth was already much the worse for a night spent sleeping on the ground. I hoped it would hold together until Dendera. Clapping my hands, I turned to Amenophis and said, “Which bag shall I open for us? Where’s the bread packed?”
My friend began to chew on his lower lip nervously. His eyes darted to the bags of provisions he’d carried ashore from the humble boat that had ferried us across the sacred river. I watched his fingers curl and uncurl as he silently tallied the sacks, and I saw worry creep into his eyes. “That … that one has bread in it, I think,” he said, pointing unsteadily at one of the smaller bags. “Just take two pieces—four if they’re small. None for me, please. I’m … I’m not hungry.”
I opened the bag he indicated and took out two substantial loaves, round and golden brown. They were fresh enough to still be soft, though the rest of the bread we’d brought would soon turn so hard it would need to be soaked in water or beer before we could chew it. I gave one loaf to Nava, who sank her small white teeth into it greedily; then I tore the other loaf in half.
“Hungry or not, you’ll share this with me,” I said.
“No, really, I don’t want it.” He turned his face away, but I’d seen the longing in his eyes when he’d looked at the loaf. I could almost hear his stomach rumbling with early-morning hunger. If he wasn’t famished, I was a frog.
“Then I don’t want it, either.”
“But you have to eat! You’ll get sick if you don’t.”
I thrust the bread at him again. “And you won’t?” Still he refused to accept it. The two of us stared at one another like a pair of goats head to head in a narrow alley, both too stubborn to budge.
“What’s the matter?” Nava had devoured her bread and was now looking at us unhappily, her small fist pressed so tightly to her mouth that I could hardly understand her words. “Why are you fighting?”
“We’re not fighting.” Amenophis and I replied in such perfect unison that the silliness of our situation struck us both at once, and we burst into laughter.
Reluctantly, he stretched out his hand. “I’ll eat if you will.”
“Me too.”
While we had our meager breakfast, I scanned the pile of sacks on shore and grew thoughtful. “Nava, would you like to help us get ready to go?” I asked casually. “You could start loading the boat. We’ll help you once we’re done eating.” Her response was so eager I had to caution her to carry just one bag at a time. While she scrambled back and forth, stowing our provisions, I was able to speak privately with Amenophis.
“I know what’s bothering you,” I said quietly. “You’re afraid we won’t have enough food to get us to Dendera.”
“Was I that obvious?” he said sadly.
“I saw how you looked at the bags. I could almost read your thoughts, tallying the food against the number of days we’ve got to travel and dividing everything among the three of us.”
He hung his head. “I didn’t want you to worry. It wouldn’t be so bad if I knew exactly how long we’ll have to sail. If you and Nava go hungry, it’ll be all my fault.”
“If any of us go hungry, it will be our own fault for starving in the middle of a feast,” I replied. “Even if Dendera lies a hundred days’ sailing from here, we don’t need to worry about food or drink. Look there.” I gestured at the sacred river. “Not even the gods could drink all of that, and it’s full of fish. If the three of us go after them together, we’ll have to catch something. It might even be fun.”
“Yes, that’s true.” A glimmer of renewed confidence touched his eyes. “I’ve never fished before, either, though I have gone hunting in the marshes. I have a good eye, a good aim.” In an instant, the glimmer faded. “But I’m not half as skilled as Thutmose is with the spear.”
“Well, you’re going to be better than he is when it comes to fishing!” I decreed.
“Have you ever gone fishing, Nefertiti?” Amenophis asked hopefully.
I had to admit that I’d never tried it. “But I have seen how it’s done,” I told him quickly to keep him in good spirits. “Father and I saw them hard at work almost every day. Some of the men used nets, and some used spears. If we can’t find any wood long or straight enough to make our fishing spears, we’ll hunt through the reeds until we find some that are stiff enough to hold a sharp point.”