Daughter of the Gods by Stephanie Thornton

Author:Stephanie Thornton [Thornton, Stephanie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780451417794
Google: 98c8BwAAQBAJ
Amazon: 0451417798
Publisher: NAL
Published: 2014-05-05T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

Shomu drew to a close and the rekhyt finished bringing in the harvest of oats, wheat, and barley that would feed Egypt for another year. The Nile’s benevolence meant plenty of grain to add to the storehouses and stockpiles of food for leaner years. Hatshepsut could ignore Amun’s curse when the land was so blessed; she could believe she had imagined the hidden god’s voice in her head. The High Priest had kept his word, and she hadn’t spoken of the incident to anyone.

She would take the secret with her to her tomb.

In order to give the gods their due, Hatshepsut had already sat idle during the first two unlucky days at the end of the year, and recited spells from the Book of the Last Day of the Year over a piece of newly woven linen, which she tied around her neck to avoid the wrath of the gods. Now the people held their breath, hoping the five Days of the Demons at the end of the year would pass with a whimper instead of a roar. Osiris’ and Horus’ days had already gone by, but today was Set’s day, the most terrible of all.

She couldn’t stomach another day of mindless boredom, and sent Mouse to inquire whether Senenmut might be willing to join her in breaking the rules.

“Senenmut will do whatever you want.” Mouse sniffed. “That man would walk across a bed of scorpions if you asked him to.”

“You must be growing senile if that’s what you think,” she said. “Senenmut can scarcely stand to be in the same room with me.”

“And you must be blind.” Mouse rolled her eyes to the ceiling, blowing a puff of onion-scented breath in Hatshepsut’s direction. “That man swallows you with his eyes. I’m surprised there’s anything left of you after the past few weeks.”

Hatshepsut’s cheeks flushed. She had noticed his gaze on her when he thought she wasn’t watching, but the look on his face had never been a happy one. More as if he were in terrible pain.

She herded Mouse out the door, then double-checked her reflection in the copper mirror. Hathor’s cow face smiled benignly from the handle, mocking her. “Leave me alone,” she whispered to the goddess. She slammed the mirror onto the table. Facedown.

Still, her heart did a traitorous little jump when she entered her offices.

Senenmut was already seated at the table, shaking his head in disbelief as he ticked off lines in the ledgers with his stylus. “You must be the gods’ most beloved subject this side of the Nile.” He gave a dry chuckle at her pointed look. “Pardon me, Hemet. On both sides of the Nile.”

She had recently promoted him to the Steward of Amun, a sort of reward for the completion of Mut’s temple at Karnak, and he wore the gold pectoral of his new office across an otherwise bare chest. She had granted him the position he sought at court and the power he craved. Everything she thought he wanted.

But it wasn’t enough.

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