The Sekhmet Bed by L. M. Ironside & Libbie Hawker

Author:L. M. Ironside & Libbie Hawker [Ironside, L. M. & Hawker, Libbie]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Ancient, Historical Fiction, Egypt, Biographical, Middle Eastern, Historical, African, Literature & Fiction, Genre Fiction, History
Amazon: B005EHR1EW
Publisher: Running Rabbit Press
Published: 2011-09-21T04:00:00+00:00

Ahmose made herself walk slowly across the courtyard. Obviously Sitamun had told what she had seen in the garden before the Men-Nefer festival. And what else had that vile gossip seen? How often had she been sent to spy upon Ahmose? Ineni had been her only comfort, her only joy in the dark days since Tut sailed north. Any gesture, any word between them could be interpreted as romantic. A dagger of guilt twisted in her belly.

Ahmose remembered how she and Mutnofret had vowed to be sisters first, sisters forever, and remembering made her chest tighten. How quickly they had forgotten their promise; how quickly hate had taken hold of their hearts. There was a rent between them now that a thousand-thousand stitches could never mend. And would it open further? Would the gods drive this wedge between Ahmose and Tut, too? Unthinkable – impossible – unbearable. She would give it all up – her privacy, the palace itself – to ensure Tut was still hers. She would move against Mutnofret’s schemes. Decisively; today.

Back in her apartments, she sent Twosre to find Ineni. She dragged a flat box out of one of the great standing chests that held her gowns. Inside was a swath of linen dyed the perfect crimson of beaded blood. She tied it tightly, and though her hands shook, they did not fail.

The garment was stifling, and so snug it was difficult to walk. But it accentuated every curve of her young body; it turned her into the very image of ripening. The red cloth was knotted beneath her breasts, exposing them, and she painted her nipples with oil and coated them with gold dust so that they shone like sun-discs. Her finest wig went onto her head, and her brilliant alabaster vulture crown settled atop it, with the goddess's finely carved white wings, worked in stone so smooth they glowed like a full moon rising, falling to either side of her face. She did not need her mirror to know she looked like a vision. She felt it. She felt Mut singing deep within her heart.

Ineni was not long in coming. Twosre helped him bear in a long box, longer than a man’s height and more than wide enough for a stout man to lie inside. When Ineni straightened from his burden and looked at Ahmose, his eyes lit with a hungry fire. She looked like womanhood itself, she knew – like a goddess made flesh. Perfect.

“What is all this?” Twosre frowned.

“I am striking a blow against evil today,” Ahmose said. She came toward Ineni and the box, her hips swaying like a bed of reeds in the confines of the red dress. Ineni swallowed hard.

“Great Lady, where are you going?” Twosre’s voice was pitched high with worry.

“To Ipet-Isut, to pay a little visit to the High Priest of Amun. Ineni, do you have the letter?”

He pulled a scroll of papyrus from his belt. “It is ready. A litter is coming. The bearers will meet us in the courtyard.

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