Sphinx's Princess by Esther Friesner

Author:Esther Friesner [Friesner, Esther]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780375893308
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2009-09-26T22:00:00+00:00

“Good morning, Nefertiti! Did you sleep well? No lions?” Sitamun called out to me gaily as I climbed the last of the steps leading up to one of the palace’s flat roofs. It was the same greeting she gave me every morning since the day I’d confided in her about my childhood nightmares. I didn’t mind: Her words were a never-failing reminder that I’d made at least one true friend since my arrival at Thebes nearly half a year ago. I only wished that Aunt Tiye’s oldest daughter were someone closer to my own age. There were at least ten years between us.

The time of the Inundation had passed and we were well into the season of Emergence. From the rooftop I could see how far the sacred river’s waters had receded from the fields. The freshly fertile soil was thickly planted with new crops, and the tender growth turned the Black Land green.

“No lions,” I replied as I joined her under the vividly patterned cloth sunshade. Sitamun had already spread out her scribe’s kit and was using the flat-edged burnisher to smooth the final rough spots from the blank piece of papyrus in front of her.

“Maybe no lions, but I’ll bet you were followed by our favorite cub,” she said.

At that very instant Berett’s head popped into view at the top of the steps. My little musician climbed up the rest of the way, carrying her harp with her. The past months of good food and peace in the royal palace had been very good to her. She’d grown taller and stronger, though she still clung to silence. She crossed the rooftop to kneel in her favorite shady corner and began to play.

I laid out my own set of palette, brushes, and pens, taking water from Sitamun’s small flask to make the red and black inks, then indicated the papyrus my friend was finishing. “Is that mine?”

“It is.” She gave it one last scrape with the burnisher and slid it over to me. “Are you sure you’re ready?”

“I’ve practiced enough,” I said. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” I stretched my hands out over the papyrus and my tools and prayed aloud for Thoth to bless my task. Then I picked up a brush and began to write.

Sitamun watched me intently. “Very nice, Nefertiti. You have an elegant style, but I still don’t understand why you insisted on doing this yourself. Henenu could have done it for you, or any of the other scribes.”

“These words have to come from my own hand,” I replied. “It means a lot to me.”

“You’d think you were writing a love poem!”

“I wouldn’t know how.”

“That’s a shame. Thutmose should send you one.”

I frowned. “That wouldn’t be dignified enough for him.”

Sitamun laughed. “He is a stick! But a stick can become a roaring fire if it meets the right spark.” She turned to Berett. “Dear one, can you play us a love song? We need to put your mistress in the proper mood.” Berett tilted her head and gave Sitamun a doubtful look but did as she was asked.

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