The Sekhmet Bed by L. M. Ironside Page B

The pavilion provided a natural place to do so; it was neither as public as the court hall nor as private as her apartments. Twosre saw to her needs as she listened to the dreams of noble women and palace servants. Word spread quickly through the city, and by the time the Inundation was well underway Ahmose was being petitioned by Waset’s rekhet. Soon she could not manage the demand for dream-reading on her own. Tut devoted Ineni to the queen’s service, and under his careful eye Ahmose’s days were well planned.
     
    Akhet was a good time for a funeral. The very land sang hymns of rebirth as the river raised its fertile hands above the valley. The royal family set out from the palace an hour after sunrise, carried in their litters down through the streets of Waset where the air was still and thick with the smell of fish and refuse. Tut and Ahmose rode together on a great throned platform carried by sixteen men, Mutnofret on a smaller litter immediately behind them. Even this early in the morning, even during the Inundation when there was no race to plant or harvest and sleep could be had more freely, the rekhet crowded the route from palace to river. They cheered and waved as Ahmose and Tut passed, holding children up for a view, jumping to see over the heads of the crowd.
     
    Behind them, the wails of a throng of paid mourners rose into the sky. They channeled the grief of the family, lamenting and scooping dust onto their heads, tearing their garments, shaking fists at the sun. Amunhotep had been a great Pharaoh, long-reigning and strong. He had many mourners; their cries were like those of the great flocks of geese in early Shemu, each individual voice merging into one relentless cacophony. Ahmose smiled to hear it. It was right that Amunhotep should be loudly mourned. Her father had been a great man.
     
    At the head of the procession Meritamun and Nefertari rode litters directly behind the king’s coffin. They had moved out of the Waset palace just before the wedding, taking up in an estate on the bluffs to the south of the city. Ahmose had not seen either woman since her wedding feast. She wondered how her mother and grandmother felt today. Did their hearts cry out as loudly as the mourners? Nefertari, at least, must be sorrowful. She had only one living child left – Meritamun – and the twist of her daughter’s spine was slowly taking her life away. She, too, would die before the old God’s Wife.
     
    At length they reached the water steps where the royal barge was moored. It was broad and deep, fitted with two masts and bristling with oars. Its sides were painted red and white, the colors of Egypt’s two crowns. The litter lowered. Tut gave his hand to Ahmose to lead her down the steps and onto the barge.
     
    He went back right away to lead Mutnofret aboard. Ahmose watched as Mutnofret and Tut walked hand-in-hand down the great steps to the mooring. Though she was at odds with Mutnofret, she still felt keenly her sister’s disappointment at being second wife. She believed it was possible to find some stabile ground with Mutnofret, in spite of their rivalry for Tut’s affections.
     
    As for Tut, he kept his word to Ahmose. He did not try to return to her bed, but he came to her during the day, and often. It was well known around the palace that Ahmose and the Pharaoh often rode together in the evenings, taking their chariot out into the fields, past ancient temples and tiny villages, sometimes so far they could see the desert lying red and hot on the eastern horizon. And most days they shared the morning meal, too, in Ahmose’s garden or in Tut’s lush courtyard. She had heard no rumors that the Pharaoh invited Mutnofret into his leisure. Perhaps Ahmose was to be the Pharaoh’s companion, and Mutnofret was to be his brood mare. I can live with such an arrangement , she thought, smiling.
     
    Ahmose found Nefertari and Meritamun beneath a shaded canopy. She sat upon a bench with them and sipped wine