“If we do find wood, I could try to make myself a throwing stick, for hunting waterfowl.” He sounded as if he were catching my enthusiasm.
“Exactly! And maybe we could also make a bow and arrow for me to use. You know I’m not a bad shot. I’m not sure if I could hit a moving target, but if I come across a bird that’s polite enough to stand still and wait for my arrow …” It did me good to hear him laugh at my little joke. “As for the fish, I’m going to see if I can turn one of our food bags into a net, or a scoop, or—or something that’ll catch them. If the first thing we try doesn’t work, we’ll just have to come up with a new idea, and if that fails, we’ll think of another. I’m not going to give up, and we’re not going to go hungry.”
He smiled. “When I listen to you, I can almost believe that we’ll arrive at Dendera with a boatload of fish and game.”
I wrinkled my nose. “I don’t think your mother would like the smell of that.” I laughed, expecting him to join in, but this time he kept silent. A shadow had fallen over him again. It pained my heart to see him so downcast. Gently I reached for his hand, but he moved away.
“This is the least of our troubles,” he muttered. “Fish or no fish, it doesn’t matter. What have I done to you, Nefertiti? What was I thinking when I brought you away from Thebes?” His words sounded hollow and desolate.
“You were saving my life; that’s what you were thinking,” I replied, speaking softly so that Nava wouldn’t overhear. I was becoming more and more concerned about Amenophis. Whatever was preying on his spirit, I had to make him tell me before it gnawed him to pieces inside. “If you hadn’t carried me across the river, out of your brother’s power, I’d be dead by the time your parents returned.”
“Don’t say such things.” He shook his head violently. “I can’t stand the thought of anything happening to you, my—my friend, my dear friend. O gods, help me!” He groaned. “Why wasn’t I born like Thutmose, strong and sure of myself? It’s one thing to get that little boat across the sacred river, but to steer it for days? I don’t know if I can do it, and now I must.”
He grabbed my hands, clasping them fiercely between his own. “What good was it to break you out of your prison if Thutmose recaptures you because I wasn’t smart or strong enough to keep you out of his hands? I should have paid one of the palace guards to take you far away from here, far from Thebes, even far beyond the borders of the Black Land itself.” He bowed his head. “But I was selfish. I wanted to be the one to save you, not some paid servant. And I dreaded the thought of never seeing you again. It’s my selfishness that’s put your life at risk—and not just yours!” He cast worried eyes to where Nava was still happily distracted with loading our boat of bundled reeds.
I squeezed Amenophis’s thin hands as hard as I could, so hard that I felt the bones move against each other. He gasped, shocked by the unexpected pain. “Stop it,” I said firmly, scowling at him as hard as I could. “Stop filling your mind with these thoughts. They’ll drag all three of us to the river bottom. Amenophis, look there, look at the sun, how beautiful it is, how the Aten-disk shines, chasing away the shadows and bad dreams and dangers of the night! If not for you and Nava and Sitamun, I might not be here today, welcoming the Aten’s light. How can you say you were selfish, after all you’ve done to help me? My friend, you’re risking much more than I am.”
“Impossible,” he replied, bewildered. “Your life’s in danger—”
“And yours,” I cut in. “Maybe more than mine.”
He shook his head again. “No matter how much Thutmose hates me for thwarting his plans, there’s a limit to how much he can punish me. I’m his brother.”
“Set was Osiris’s brother,” I murmured.
We both knew the story of how the evil god of the wastelands grew envious of his brother Osiris, the beloved husband of Isis. Set killed Osiris, and in his murderous rage, he tore his brother’s body to pieces and scattered them throughout the Black Land. Sweet Isis had to seek the pieces everywhere until she had them all. With her own hands, she put them back together, wrapping them into place with strips of linen, then used her magic to revive him. So Isis taught mortals the way for preserving and preparing the dead for eternity. Osiris returned to life, to reign as lord of the underworld, in spite of his brother’s evil.
Osiris was a god. Amenophis was not. He wouldn’t even be the god-on-earth that Thutmose would become when he inherited his father’s crown. If his brother destroyed him, it would be forever.
“Thutmose can’t hurt me the way he can hurt you or Nava,” Amenophis maintained. “You two are at much more risk than I am, out here with only—only me to protect you. I should have let someone stronger take care of you.”
I squeezed his hand again. “Does that feel weak?” I demanded. “I may like to spend my time with Henenu, learning the scribe’s art, but that’s not all I can do. And Nava isn’t some sheltered, pampered infant. She was born a slave, and she’s lived a slave’s hard life. Her sister …” I felt a pang, remembering how Nava’s sister Mahala had saved my life, and the horror that struck my heart when I heard she’d been killed for that. “Her sister’s death shattered her, stole her voice, but she found the strength to come back from that ordeal. None of us are weaklings, Amenophis, least of all you! We’ll protect each other.”
This time my friend’s smile was more certain. “I think that you’ll be the one protecting us all, Nefertiti.”
That made me laugh. “You expect too much from me, but thank you. Now, let’s help Nava load the boat or she’ll be mad at us for making her do all the work.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to feel her wrath,” Amenophis joked.