Ramesses regarded me with uncertainty. “I’m sure you didn’t, Nefer. You never saw the prince.”
“Even if I had seen him,” I cried, “do you really believe—”
“But he was such a healthy child!” There were tears in Ramesses’s eyes.
Slowly, I backed away from him. “You don’t really think I could . . .”
“N-no.” Ramesses stumbled over his words. “No. Of course not!”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because there are thousands of people at the gates, and there are only a hundred guards on duty tonight. I have sent Asha to call up the army.”
I turned to his two soldiers; gray-heads, who had probably seen battle from Assyria to Kadesh, yet there was fear in their eyes. The people of Thebes had been angry enough to cross the river in their boats by night.
“If they break through the gates,” the tallest soldier explained, “we cannot assure your safety, Highness. We can take you to the treasury. There is no stronger building in the palace.”
I looked out over the balcony. The chant of “Heretic” was as loud as before. I could hear the bronze gates being drummed by angry fists, and the palace guards warning the people to stand back. “No,” I said firmly. “I will confront them. There is no way to stop them from believing the unbelievable except to face them myself.”
“They will kill you, Highness!” one of the soldiers exclaimed.
But Ramesses looked at me with rash admiration. “I will come with you.”
Merit pleaded, “My lady, no! Don’t do this!” But we rushed through the halls while Merit simpered behind us. I turned and told her to wait in my chamber. Her eyes were wide with fear, and I knew that what we were doing was unwise. It was the kind of foolish thing that Pharaoh Seti had warned me against.
We hurried along the corridors, while on either side courtiers were locking themselves in their chambers for fear of what was to come. Unless the army was roused quickly, thousands of commoners could break the gates and loot the palace. When we reached the courtyard, the two soldiers who accompanied us stood back in fear, their eyes focused warily on the gates, which shook with the pounding fists of the mob. At the top of the ramparts, archers watched the angry crowd with their bows at the ready. Ramesses held on to my hand as tightly as he could without crushing it, and the sound of my heartbeat was even louder in my ears than the chanting or the wind. We approached the steps leading up the palace walls, and Ramesses’s voice cut through the chaos.
“Stand back!” he shouted to his own men, who crowded the stairs leading to the ramparts. “Stand back!” As the guards recognized his nemes crown, they moved away.
The men watched us with incredulous eyes as we climbed. For a moment, when we reached the top of the palace walls, I thought the mountains were on fire. Instead, a sea of thousands of torches burned below us in the crisp Pharmuthi night. When the people nearest the gates recognized the crown of a Pharaoh above them, the chanting suddenly grew hesitant and seemed muted by his presence.
I marveled at Ramesses’s bravery as he raised his arms and addressed the angry mob. “You have come here chanting for a heretic’s blood,” he cried above the storm. “But I have come here to tell you that no heretic exists!”
There were angry exclamations in the crowd, and voices rose in protest.
“I am the father of the prince who has died. No one wishes to have an heir more than me. Therefore, if I come to you saying that there was no magic involved in his death, should you not believe me?”
An unsettled murmur passed through the mob, and Ramesses continued. “This is the woman you are calling heretic. The princess Nefertari! Does she look to you like a woman who practices magic? Does she look like a heretic?”
“She looks like Nefertiti!” an old man shouted, and the people behind him raised their torches in approbation. There was a sudden push against the gates. Ramesses took my hand and stood firmly in his place. The chant of “Heretic” was taken up again, and Ramesses’s voice grew fiercer so he could be heard above the cry.
“And who here thinks their Pharaoh would take a heretic for his wife?” he challenged. “Who here believes that the son of the Reconquerer