taxing the temples?”
A short silence hung between them.
“You will be the most powerful man in the kingdom,” she pledged. “I shall see to it. While he builds temples, you will rule this kingdom. He has no interest in politics. Everything will be left to you, and Panahesi will be like bronze to your gold.”
Chapter Nine
Shemu, Season of Harvest
BY THE SECOND of Pachons, I began to recognize the sailors on board our ship. They nodded as I passed, but they were wearied and beaten, driven all day in the sun with only water and soup to sustain them. They always had time for Ipu, however. When she walked the decks with her heavy gold earrings and swaying hips, the men talked to her the way a brother might talk with his sister, and quietly, when no one was looking, they laughed. But they never spoke to me except to mumble politely, “My lady.”
By the third day of the voyage, I had grown bored. I tried to read, learning about trees that grew in the Kingdom of Mitanni far to our north where the Khabur and the Euphrates overflowed their banks. I read all seven treatises that Ipu had collected in the markets of Thebes by the time we had spent seven days without disembarking. Then, on the eighth night, even Amunhotep grew weary of constant travel, and we were taken to shore to build fires and stretch our legs.
The servants gathered wood to roast the wild geese they had caught on the river, and we all ate in the Elder’s best faience bowls. It was a glad change from the hard bread and figs we had been eating, and Ipu joined me at the fire, holding a cup of Pharaoh’s best wine. Across from us, at a dozen different fires, soldiers were getting drunk and courtiers were playing Senet. Ipu stared into her cup and smiled.
“As good as anything I’ve ever tasted,” she said.
I raised my brows. “Even the wine from your father’s vineyard?”
She nodded and leaned close. “I think they have opened the oldest barrels.”
I sucked in my breath. “For tonight? And Pharaoh doesn’t care?”
She glanced at Amunhotep, and I followed her gaze. While the courtiers laughed and Nefertiti spoke in low tones with our father, Amunhotep was staring into the fire. His lips were drawn into a thin line and the bones in his face appeared hollow in the flickering light. “He only cares about getting there,” Ipu replied. “The faster he arrives in Memphis, the sooner he can take up the crook and flail of Egypt.”
Panahesi was making his way toward our circle with an obviously pregnant Kiya. As they drew near the fire, Nefertiti turned and pinched my arm roughly. “What is she doing here?” she demanded.
I rubbed my arm. “She’s coming with us to Memphis, remember?”
But Nefertiti didn’t hear my sarcasm. “She’s pregnant. She should be back on the ship.” And away from Amunhotep, she wanted to add.
One of Kiya’s ladies spread a feathered cushion on the sand and Kiya sat across from Amunhotep, resting her hand on her large hennaed belly. She was soft and fresh, natural in her pregnancy, while across the fire Nefertiti glittered with malachite and gold.
“We are halfway to Memphis,” Panahesi announced. “Soon, we will arrive and Pharaoh will be enthroned in his palace.” The small group around the fire nodded, murmuring among themselves, and my father watched him carefully. “Are the plans going well for the building, Your Highness?”
Amunhotep straightened, awakening from his stupor. “The plans are coming magnificently. My queen has a great mind for design. We have already sketched a temple with a courtyard and three altars.”
Panahesi smiled indulgently. “If His Highness should need any help…” He spread his palms and Amunhotep nodded at his loyalty.
“I have already made plans for you,” he said. At nearby fires, the courtiers stopped playing Senet. “When we reach Memphis,” Amunhotep announced, “I want you to see to it that General Horemheb succeeds in collecting taxes from the priests of Amun.”
The fire snapped and hissed, and Panahesi hid his shock, looking quickly to Nefertiti to see if she’d known, gauging how far the Pharaoh trusted her now. Then all of the viziers began talking at once.
“But Your Majesty,” one of them interjected. “Is that prudent?”
Panahesi cleared his throat. “Of course, it is prudent. The temples of Amun have never been taxed. They hoard Egypt’s wealth and spend it as their own.”
“Exactly!” Amunhotep exclaimed. He struck his fist into his palm and many