familiar note of a fawning sycophancy in the sound. Amunhotep did not even smile but continued to hold his gaze on her. She was suddenly aware that he was assessing her, weighing her against the balance on some scale whose meaning was a mystery to her. It made her embarrassed and suddenly aware of her age among this gathering of the young.
“Did you feel that you had to see it, after Mutnodjme’s tales?” she asked politely.
He dropped his eyes. “Perhaps.”
“I prefer Memphis also”—she smiled—”but I try to remember that without the princes of Thebes in the ancient days, our country would still be under the yoke of foreigners. Besides, Thebes is Amun’s home. Under all that filth and decay is a noble, proud city.” Several of the young men glanced at each other. Amunhotep studied his hands.
“What you say is true, Majesty Aunt,” Nefertiti responded, “but let us all appreciate Thebes with the river flowing between us and the city.” Tiye could not fail to note the girl’s animation, the sparkle in the gray eyes, the exaggeratedly graceful gestures. “Tell me, Great One, what do you think of the new Khatti ambassador and his train? What wildmen!”
At the new subject of conversation the little group loosened and began to chatter. For a while longer Tiye sat and talked with them of inconsequential things. Sitamun was still sulking. Her responses were monosyllabic but polite. In the end Tiye left them, feeling as she did so that directly her back was turned, they would continue with the discussion that she had interrupted. Putting them out of her mind, she went to Pharaoh’s bedchamber. For once the painted mats that covered the windows had been raised, and as the lamps had not yet been lit, the evening shadows lay gently across the tiled floor. Apuia was serving the king his meal, and Surero stood ready to assist. Servants crossed and recrossed the room with silent purpose, and in a corner a single harp player fingered a plaintive melody. There was no sign of the boy, but as she approached the couch and bowed, Tiye heard laughter outside in the garden and glanced out the window in time to see him go racing by, Pharaoh’s greyhounds in pursuit.
“See, I am eating,” Amunhotep said good-naturedly. “The fever is down, and my teeth have stopped trembling in my gums. Come and sit on the couch. Tia-Ha was here last night, bearing me quinces and plenty of gossip. So the eunuch has returned.”
Tiye settled herself beside his feet, shaking her head at the dishes immediately offered but accepting wine from Surero. “The measure of a man should not be taken only when he draws a bow or throws a spear, as you have told me often enough,” she retorted, sipping the cool red liquid with relish. “Your son has no love of military arts, though he can drive a chariot well enough. I presume when you call him eunuch, you are not denigrating his religious or musical pursuits.”
“Well, he looks like a eunuch,” Pharaoh grumbled, swallowing delicately. “With that thick mouth and the stooped shoulders. I suppose you want my seal on the marriage contract.”
“It is time, Amunhotep.”
“Then we shall see what kind of a eunuch your eunuch is.” He raised his cup to her, and his eyes twinkled mischievously over the rim as he drank. “I have read the scroll.”
“It is a perfectly ordinary contract.”
“Return it to me tomorrow. I will affix my seal. Have you given any thought to a contract for little Smenkhara?”
“No, but I daresay you have. By the time he is of marriageable age, Sit amun will be too old to produce heirs with fully divine blood in their veins.”
“But not too old to give Smenkhara as strong a claim to the throne as our present heir if he marries her.” He waved away the ruins of his meal and leaned back. In spite of his forced cheerfulness Tiye saw that one side of his face was swollen, and that a thin film of sweat had broken out across his upper lip.
“In that case
“Did you feel that you had to see it, after Mutnodjme’s tales?” she asked politely.
He dropped his eyes. “Perhaps.”
“I prefer Memphis also”—she smiled—”but I try to remember that without the princes of Thebes in the ancient days, our country would still be under the yoke of foreigners. Besides, Thebes is Amun’s home. Under all that filth and decay is a noble, proud city.” Several of the young men glanced at each other. Amunhotep studied his hands.
“What you say is true, Majesty Aunt,” Nefertiti responded, “but let us all appreciate Thebes with the river flowing between us and the city.” Tiye could not fail to note the girl’s animation, the sparkle in the gray eyes, the exaggeratedly graceful gestures. “Tell me, Great One, what do you think of the new Khatti ambassador and his train? What wildmen!”
At the new subject of conversation the little group loosened and began to chatter. For a while longer Tiye sat and talked with them of inconsequential things. Sitamun was still sulking. Her responses were monosyllabic but polite. In the end Tiye left them, feeling as she did so that directly her back was turned, they would continue with the discussion that she had interrupted. Putting them out of her mind, she went to Pharaoh’s bedchamber. For once the painted mats that covered the windows had been raised, and as the lamps had not yet been lit, the evening shadows lay gently across the tiled floor. Apuia was serving the king his meal, and Surero stood ready to assist. Servants crossed and recrossed the room with silent purpose, and in a corner a single harp player fingered a plaintive melody. There was no sign of the boy, but as she approached the couch and bowed, Tiye heard laughter outside in the garden and glanced out the window in time to see him go racing by, Pharaoh’s greyhounds in pursuit.
“See, I am eating,” Amunhotep said good-naturedly. “The fever is down, and my teeth have stopped trembling in my gums. Come and sit on the couch. Tia-Ha was here last night, bearing me quinces and plenty of gossip. So the eunuch has returned.”
Tiye settled herself beside his feet, shaking her head at the dishes immediately offered but accepting wine from Surero. “The measure of a man should not be taken only when he draws a bow or throws a spear, as you have told me often enough,” she retorted, sipping the cool red liquid with relish. “Your son has no love of military arts, though he can drive a chariot well enough. I presume when you call him eunuch, you are not denigrating his religious or musical pursuits.”
“Well, he looks like a eunuch,” Pharaoh grumbled, swallowing delicately. “With that thick mouth and the stooped shoulders. I suppose you want my seal on the marriage contract.”
“It is time, Amunhotep.”
“Then we shall see what kind of a eunuch your eunuch is.” He raised his cup to her, and his eyes twinkled mischievously over the rim as he drank. “I have read the scroll.”
“It is a perfectly ordinary contract.”
“Return it to me tomorrow. I will affix my seal. Have you given any thought to a contract for little Smenkhara?”
“No, but I daresay you have. By the time he is of marriageable age, Sit amun will be too old to produce heirs with fully divine blood in their veins.”
“But not too old to give Smenkhara as strong a claim to the throne as our present heir if he marries her.” He waved away the ruins of his meal and leaned back. In spite of his forced cheerfulness Tiye saw that one side of his face was swollen, and that a thin film of sweat had broken out across his upper lip.
“In that case
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