The charming smile that had once attracted me to Thutmose was back. “My mother’s agents aren’t paid enough to tell her things that I pay them to conceal.”
I breathed a little easier. “All right. What’s this ‘next step’ we need to plan? The feast for Amenophis? Doesn’t that have to wait until your bones are healed?”
“That will be soon enough, but, no, we have bigger plans to set in motion. I want to see you and Amenophis married, Nefertiti. That will be something worth celebrating with the greatest banquet Thebes has ever seen.”
I squealed with joy so loudly that I embarrassed myself, and when I tried to throw myself into Thutmose’s arms to thank him, Amenophis had to grab me and hold me back.
“Watch out, Nefertiti, you’re going to land on his bad leg!”
I pulled back and gave him an insulted look. “I know enough not to touch his broken ankle.”
“Yes, but the scrape farther up his leg still hurts, too.”
“In that case”—I steered Amenophis out of my way and gently put my arms around my new friend and kissed his cheek—“Isis bless you, Thutmose. I pray for the day when Amenophis and I will see you standing at your father’s side as coruler of the Two Lands.”
I did more than pray. I wrote a letter to Pharaoh, filling it with just enough praise for his oldest son for him to notice but not so much that my words rang false. Whatever else she was, Aunt Tiye was crafty when it came to knowing how her royal husband’s mind worked. She saw my marriage to Thutmose as the only way to persuade Pharaoh that his son’s past offenses were forgiven and that he could reinstate Thutmose as his heir. I showed her that there can be more than one path to any goal.
The first news I received to let me know I’d succeeded did not come from Pharaoh or Thutmose or even Aunt Tiye, but from Sitamun. Teti came running after me as I headed out for my morning visit with Thutmose (and another sweet, secret afternoon with Amenophis).
“A messenger came to your rooms with this after you left, Lady Nefertiti,” she said, panting for breath as she handed me the small papyrus scroll. “She said it was very important.”
I unrolled the message and read it, then read it again, and a third time before I could believe it. “Teti, bring my sandals and my oldest dress to Princess Sitamun’s rooms,” I said as I rushed away down the hall.
Soon after that, I found myself holding on to the rail of a chariot driven by one of Sitamun’s menservants. I don’t know how much gold changed hands for her to provide me with that transport. I do know that the driver was unskilled and was distinctly relieved when I told him to give me directions to our destination while I took over the reins. We must have made a very odd picture, even if I hadn’t been the one driving. We were passing through the poorer sections of Thebes, and because I’d followed Sitamun’s suggestion that I dress as humbly as I could, I appeared to be of the same rank as the servant with me. But if my friend had hoped we wouldn’t attract notice, she’d forgotten that a royal chariot’s presence in such a neighborhood was the same as arriving crowned with gold.
On a street lined with run-down houses, my escort indicated the one we sought. I threw the reins to him and leaped down from the chariot while he struggled to control the horses. A crowd of curious onlookers gathered around the vehicle at once, but I never looked back or even bothered to announce my presence before barging through the badly hung wooden door. It swung back with a loud crash that instantly commanded the attention of the three people gathered in that one-room dwelling.
“Nefertiti!” Nava was in my arms.
At first all we could do was laugh and cry and hug and laugh again while the tears poured from our eyes. I don’t know how long we would have carried on in that way if I hadn’t heard another voice say, “Let her breathe, little sister. I don’t think you were this happy when you saw me.”
“Oh, that’s not true, Mahala; you know that’s not true!” Nava sprang away from me to embrace her sister fiercely.
It was Mahala’s turn to laugh, with Henenu joining in. The scribe held up his hands as if he stood before the gods. “I am here to bear witness that Nava is right. When the priest of Ptah agreed to our offer and ordered Mahala to come greet her new ‘owners,’ this child threw herself on her so violently that I could just imagine that man telling himself, ‘I should have asked for double the price.’ ”
I faced Mahala and Nava, then deliberately knelt and pressed my forehead to the ground at their feet. “You saved my life, Mahala,” I said. “Not a day passes when I fail to thank you for that wonderful gift. May your god and mine bless you forever.”
“Lady Nefertiti, you mustn’t bow to me!” Mahala dropped to her knees and forced me to lift my head. “You cared for my sister, you made her free, and you redeemed me from slavery. The debt is mine.”
I held out one hand to her, one to Nava, and drew the sisters into my arms. “You’re alive and well. All debts are paid.”
We emerged from the hovel to see my escort fighting a losing battle against the street children who were determined to swarm all over the chariot and the horses. He looked both worried and relieved when I told him he was free to drive back to the palace at once.
“We can’t all fit in the chariot, so take Henenu and we will come along on foot.”
He helped the dwarf scribe mount, fumbled with the reins, and let the horses run. Mahala, Nava, and I watched his hectic, ungoverned departure. I looked at the Habiru sisters. “Do you think we’ll reach the palace before he does?”
“Do you think we’ll ever see Henenu again?” Nava asked plaintively.