My own fight for true justice put more than two armies onto the battlefield. Amenophis added his voice to mine when I testified about what Thutmose had done to warp the truth, laying false charges at my feet. Aunt Tiye took her older son’s side, shrilly accusing Amenophis of disloyalty to his brother when she wasn’t blaming me for bringing the whole situation down on my own head. Thutmose said nothing more after his initial words sparked the raging fight, but it was obvious that he was merely biding his time, like a seasoned commander who waits to see which way the battle is going before sending his men forward at exactly the right time and place to seize victory.
As for Pharaoh, he had the look of a man caught between a blazing fire and a starving crocodile. From time to time, he would bark a command for everyone to speak in turn rather than shouting all at once. Other than that, the god-on-earth was unable to rule the fray. The priests of Hathor huddled together, not because they were frightened by the regal conflict, but because they were enjoying it. They might as well have been peasants watching two of their drunken friends caught up in a brawl. They did everything but cheer and make bets on the outcome. Throughout it all, I stood by Nava, taking her and Ta-Miu under my arm to keep them safe and to lend the Habiru child courage. She might have enjoyed tales of violence, but when the real thing threatened to erupt before her eyes, she was only a scared little girl.
At last the battle wore itself out. A bristling, prickly silence ensued. I felt as if we all stood amid the ruins of a house that had been torn to pieces by demons riding a sandstorm. I stooped to take Ta-Miu from Nava’s keeping and held out the cat for Pharaoh to see.
“My lord, see for yourself what I have here. We’ve wasted too much anger in this room, throwing accusations and blame back and forth and ignoring the only thing that matters: I was charged with having killed this cat, Ta-Miu, and using her blood to make wax images for the purpose of putting a curse on you and Prince Thutmose. Yet here she is, alive and well! Even more important, here you are, in the best of health, thank the gods. If there has been no killing and no curse, there can be no crime committed and no punishment for it. I am innocent, and the proof of it is here.”
Pharaoh put out his hands, wordlessly requesting that I let him hold Ta-Miu. He examined the little cat thoroughly, from the tip of her tail to the top of her head to the place on her brow where the white star shone. Fingering her collar, he turned a stern face to Thutmose.
“I know this cat,” he said. “I remember the day that I gave her to you. This collar was my gift as well. I was deeply pleased by how much you loved her. Frankly, my son, there were times that I wondered if your heart would ever learn how to care about another living creature.”
“You think I don’t care about you or Mother?” Thutmose sounded genuinely hurt, but I also noticed that he made no mention of Amenophis or his sisters.
Pharaoh sighed. Had he noticed it, too? “You are obliged to love us, as your parents and as rulers of this land. But there is no force that compels you to love this small cat, and yet you do. Or you did. If you love something truly, you don’t use it; you don’t manipulate it or turn it into a gaming piece, moving it here or there to serve your own desires.”
“You’re right, my father,” Thutmose said. His voice was submissive, but I saw the way his eyes narrowed when he looked at his mother. There was more cold accusation in that look than in all the false charges he’d brought against me. “Ma’at herself would recognize the truth you speak about love. But she would also affirm that I am right when I say Nefertiti is still guilty of acts of sacrilege and blasphemy against the gods.”
“Thutmose, have you lost your mind?” Pharaoh’s scowl was terrible to see. “Do you hear your own words? You claimed she killed your cat and used its blood to cast evil spells on us, yet here is the cat and where is the evil magic?”
With the swiftness of a cobra’s strike, Thutmose sprang forward and grabbed Nava by the wrist. Before Amenophis or I could stop him, he dragged the stumbling, wailing girl in front of Pharaoh and forced her to her knees. “Here it is, my father!” he declared, pointing at her while she wept with fright. “Here is the proof of Nefertiti’s crime.”
“What is this?” Pharaoh demanded. “What are you thinking of, bullying a child this way?”
“This ‘child’ is a Habiru slave, one who worships a god without a face, a god who has no known shape, a god of smoke and shadows. What better god for someone whose hands are steeped in the darkness of sorcery?”
I couldn’t bear any more. I rushed to scoop Nava into my arms. She wrapped her thin legs around my waist and buried her head against my shoulder, clinging to me so hard that her fingers dug into my flesh painfully. “This is nonsense!” I shouted. “Madness! To call this harmless little girl a sorceress—!”
“Not her,” Thutmose said calmly. “You.”
“My son, think about what you’re saying.” Aunt Tiye moved to place one steadying hand on his arm. It was the only time I’d seen her confident, determined face soften so much. She was no longer a queen or Pharaoh’s powerful Great Royal Wife. She was only a mother concerned for her child. “If you and Nefertiti have quarreled, let us help make peace between you. Whatever she has done to fill you with such a thirst for vengeance, this is not the way to make her sorry or to teach her to show you the love and respect she owes her future husband.”
“By Osiris, it’s true,” Thutmose mused aloud. “You’d marry me to a scorpion if you thought it would help me get the throne.”
Aunt Tiye drew back her hand and slapped him. One of the priests of Hathor had the bad luck to gasp. The queen whirled on him in a fury. “Leave us!” she commanded. “Take your miserable carcasses somewhere else or I swear by your own goddess that I will squash you like the gape-mouthed, goggle-eyed frogs you are!”
Some of the priests didn’t wait to be given a second order. They ran from the chamber. Only Djau and two others remained behind, hesitating. “My—my lord Pharaoh,” he quavered. “My lord, we were in the middle of the litany. I cannot go. Hathor will be insulted.”