The Twelfth Transforming by Pauline Gedge

Author:Pauline Gedge
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: PENGUIN GROUP (CANADA)

17

Tiye left Malkatta at the end of the first month of winter. When news of her decision had reached Akhetaten, she had received an ecstatic letter from Pharaoh, guarded greetings from Ay, and nothing at all from Nefertiti. Resolutely she refused to look into the future. While her stewards strode purposefully down the passages of the palace, scrolls in their arms and frowns on their faces, and myriads of servants fetched and carried, packed and repacked, Tiye surrendered for the last time to the magic of Malkatta, allowing every memory to overtake her. Sitting under her canopy by the lake, she remembered being poled across the river, a little princess newly appointed to Pharaoh’s already vast harem, to look at the unpainted rooms, the churned, stone-littered ground, the overseers with their shouts and whips, and the straining backs of the fellahin. She had stood with a slim young Tia-Ha and other princesses in the awesome grandeur of the empress’s quarters, as yet untenanted, her hands behind her back, her kohled eyes on the ceiling as Kheruef described the plans Pharaoh had for his new palace. Many of the women were silent and uneasy, not wanting to consider the proximity of the dead and the nights they would have to spend with only a wall between them and those who lay stiffly in their coffins. Tiye had been silent also, but not from fear. She had been wondering why her husband had decided to move his court from its ancient and honorable site on the east bank, close to Karnak. A man with such unlimited power and wealth could do anything he pleased, yet it seemed a pointless, irrational waste of gold and effort. At that moment she had felt eyes on her back and, turning, had seen the young pharaoh staring at her, his ministers surrounding him. She ought to have instantly averted her gaze, but she found herself staring back. Though the marriage con tract had been sealed and she had been in the harem for over a month, she had come no closer to her husband than a long stone’s throw at official feasts. Now he was imperiously crooking a finger at her. Bravely she had walked to him, crumpling at his feet until a toe gently pushed against her ear gave her permission to rise. Behind him she caught her father’s eye. He had winked solemnly at her.

“Princess Tiye, what is so interesting about the ceiling?” Pharaoh had enquired.

“Nothing at all, Divine Horus,” she had replied, caught off guard. “I was not even thinking about the ceiling.”

“I see. And what do little girls think about when they are gazing to the heavens with their mouths open?” His men had laughed.

Tiye flushed. Stand your ground with him, her father had instructed her in the days when she was being prepared to become a Royal Wife. Do not be docile. You are not beautiful enough for that. You must display your character if you want to capture him.

“I was

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