Out of the Black Land - By Kerry Greenwood Page 0,148

had said that her son would not dare to kill her and she was probably right. But now I had no one to advise me. What to do? Ptah-hotep would know, I thought. But he would not be able to advise me, because he was dead. I missed him suddenly with an almost unbearable pang. My dearest love, my sweet scribe.

I gathered my strength. I could not expend the rest of my life in weeping for him. He was gone. If I was lucky and managed the remainder of my days well, I might meet him again in the Field of Reeds, for I was sure that he would be there. After all, he knew all of the Book of Coming Forth By Day and if the judges would not hear him because his body was ash then there was no justice. I felt weary beyond belief. I stopped and looked out of a window, leaning both palms on the sill, trying to focus. For some reason, I could smell the river, the dock smell of water and fish and tarred ropes. I sniffed again and it was gone. All I could smell was the stench of spices and the usual palace smells, perfumed oil and people. Grief was making me hallucinate.

Kheperren was with his general and they both looked grave.

‘Lady Mutnodjme, I have done a thing which you may not like,’ began the general.

‘Tell me,’ I said, sinking down onto the floor at his feet. My head ached. He leaned down from his chair. His big hands took my shoulders and began to massage them. He was very strong but he did not hurt me, and some of the pain began to ease.

‘I am anxious to protect you, lady. You are at the mercy of your father and mother if you remain unmarried. I do not trust the motives of either.’

‘Neither do I.’ I closed my eyes as the wise fingers found knots and kneaded them.

‘And now your sister is dead, your mother is ill and the Widow-Queen Tiye has been put under house arrest by her son, if it is no worse,’ continued Kheperren, taking my hands in his.

‘This is all true,’ I agreed.

‘So we thought to find a way to give you an unassailable place, Lady Mutnodjme,’ rumbled Horemheb. ‘A position which even the king may think twice about violating. You need an establishment of your own. And failing that, you need a line of retreat. A good general always secures a line of retreat for his soldiers. One must never assume that one is going to win a battle, even if the omens are excellent.’

‘Indeed,’ I murmured. Who would have thought that those big spade-like hands had this much sensitivity?

‘Kheperren, who might be an acceptable husband, is not of sufficiently high rank to offer for the dead Queen Nefertiti’s sister and the daughter of Divine Father Ay,’ said the general, still holding my shoulders. ‘So I have asked for you in marriage, and I have been accepted.’

This news did not sink in immediately. Then instead of pulling away from him, I considered as the clever hands took away some of my pain. The general’s position was, indeed, very high. As long as he commanded the Klashr he had ten thousand soldiers and a possible levy of thirty thousand more to back any decision he might make. If Divine Father Ay tried to have him dismissed, there was a good chance that his faithful Klashr might rebel and stay with their general, and that would leave him in possession of the throne, if he wanted it. I would survive as the wife of Horemheb against anything which my parents or the mad king might want to do to me.

And I did not greatly care what happened to my body now that Ptah-hotep was gone. If the general wanted Mutnodjme, then he should have her. That, too, I could survive.

‘Lord, I am unworthy,’ I said. I felt their astonishment. Clearly, they had anticipated disagreement, and had marshalled all their arguments in favour of their action. I did not need to hear them. I knelt and laid my hands on the general’s feet in token of submission, though he knew that I was not submitting and so did Kheperren.

‘Lord, it is very kind of you to take me, knowing that I loved another man and am devastated by my loss. It is very kind of you to want to protect me and the action you have taken will do