be alive and breathing as a living one, healthy and rejuvenated every day. May the gods protect you where you are now, giving you food to eat and fresh water to drink. If there are any words you wish to say, speak them now, that all of Egypt may hear.”
The viziers shifted uncomfortably with their torches, and the courtiers held their breath to listen. When there was silence, I imagined that I saw Henuttawy smile thinly at Iset. Then the sarcophagus was lifted through the narrow corridor into its final chamber. The small party turned to Henuttawy, who would be the first to kiss the Canopic jars and see the sarcophagus lowered into the black void of the shaft below. We watched her step forward. Then she knelt in the dirt and quickly kissed the jars that would carry Seti’s poisoned organs into the Afterlife.
Rahotep, raising the adze in his hands, repeated a solemn passage from the Book of the Dead. “My breath is returned to me by the gods. The bonds that gag my mouth have been loosened and now I am free. Those who have done me harm in my life, I kindly forgive, for the gods will punish you, not me.”
Henuttawy stood, wiping the dirt from her sheath.
SITTING IN my chamber around the warmth of the brazier, I told Woserit and Paser what I suspected about Iset. Woserit gazed at the flames in silence, while Paser cradled a cup of warm Sermet beer in his hands. But neither was as surprised as I had thought they would be.
“She had to be someone’s daughter,” Paser said at length. “Everyone assumed it was some nobleman at court.”
“But she’s the child of the man who killed my family!” I cried. “He’s the murderer of Nefertiti. And if he set the fire . . .” My throat began to close with emotion. “Then he is the murderer of two generations. Do you think he would hesitate to commit another?”
But neither Woserit nor Paser seemed to see the danger I did in the prospect. They were more concerned about the coronation, and Woserit asked sternly, “Is there any chance he will crown you queen?”
I shook my head. “He will never break his promise to his father. But as for Iset, Merit reported seeing a man near her rooms last night.”
Both Woserit and Paser sat forward. This news, at least, appeared to shock them as much as it had me.
“Who was it?” Paser demanded.
I turned up my palms. “She couldn’t see.”
“It might have been the Habiru Ashai,” Woserit guessed immediately.
“No. I’m sure she’s not that foolish,” I replied.
But Woserit shook her head. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she paid a servant to go in search of him.”
“She’s desperate,” Paser added. “Who does she have to turn to? Not Pharaoh. Not Henuttawy. She already owes the High Priestess of Isis more than she may ever be able to give.”
Woserit rested a hand on my knee. “Rahotep can do nothing more for her. He can’t speak too loudly against you because his past is still his prison. Iset may not know this yet, but we do.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
FOR THE KING IS RA
RAMESSES’S WIDE PECTORAL caught the morning sun, and the blue faience tiles across the dais made it seem as though he was walking on water as he approached his new throne. It was seven days after Pharaoh Seti’s burial, and thousands of noblemen filled the Temple of Amun at Karnak from cities as far away as Memphis. I wondered what they thought of crowning a king without his queen. From my place beside Iset on the third step of the dais, I looked down at my sons in their milk nurses’ arms. They were such bright, happy babies. I felt the burning need to know that they would always be safe, that they would never be subjected to Iset’s whims if I were to die and she were made queen.
A trumpet pierced the crisp air of Pharmuthi, silencing the courtiers in their fur-lined sandals and heavy cloaks. And though I hadn’t been chosen for Chief Wife, Ramesses glanced at me as Rahotep placed the red and white pschent crown on his brow. Several of the viziers did the same, and of those who were gathered on the dais, only Queen Tuya with her ill-tempered iwiw avoided my gaze.
“For the King is Ra,” Rahotep declared. “He is the creator of all things, the begetter of the begotten. He is Bastet who protects the Two Lands, and