‘I am also tired,’ she said, lying down by his side. ‘So much chiselling...’ She gathered his bed sheet around her and in moments she was asleep.
He understood at once that this was how it would always be. He wanted her, but he could never have her.
At best, his desire for her was an inconvenience. At worst, it was a trick of the gods. Or perhaps it was a trick of the tomb itself, which seemed to teem with demons and illusions.
He could never have her. Whatever they had forged together was made of glass. Even if he could spare her the pain of witnessing the tomb pillaged, he would still be the man responsible for doing it. It was an unforgivable offence. No matter what happened, the glass was going to break.
Besides, she was already elsewhere. She was thinking about their escape, beyond that where she would go and how she would find and protect the heir and beyond that how she would undo the damage to Tausret’s tomb. None of it involved him.
She was a kind of rainbow—so close to him, but totally beyond reach.
And that was well, for rainbows were dangerous illusions. He did not want to indulge in their beauty. He did not want any part of them. They kept people smiling and bathed in colour, even when the world was falling apart.
Intef remembered the last time he had seen Nebetta.
He had been standing on the western bank of the river at his favourite fishing hole, watching a fish writhe and twist on the line.
‘I knew I would find you here!’ Nebetta had said. ‘Will you not join me at the Min feast?’
‘Is it the Min Festival already?’ Intef had asked, though he had been listening to the sound of beating drums across the water all afternoon.
‘The ferry is leaving soon,’ she’d said. She’d held out her hand to him. ‘Join me, Intef. Let us return to the land of the living and dance and be merry. Do you not hear the lovely sistrums and the trumpets calling?’
‘They sound like dying donkeys.’
She’d laughed heartily, as if he had meant the comment as a jest. The silken black strands of her hair had swept across her lovely face and she’d threaded them out of the way with unconscious grace.
I do not deserve her, he’d thought.
She’d sniffed the air. ‘They have sacrificed four bulls. Can you not smell them roasting?’
‘I smell nothing.’
‘Come, Intef,’ she’d begged. ‘Do you not wish to dance with me?’
His fish had given a wild flop, then seemed to freeze.
‘Go, Nebetta. Enjoy yourself. You will have your pick of men to dance with. As you can see, I am busy.’
She’d stepped backwards, as if he had just given her a shove.
‘Come, Intef,’ she’d said, but with less enthusiasm. ‘Do you not like my new dress?’
He had studied her closely. She’d worn a clean white sheath that had been perfectly fitted to her slim figure. A thick pectoral made of colourful glass beads had lain heavy on her chest and a matching belt had brought colour to her lovely waist. Around her shoulders she’d worn a fine, gauzy shawl that must have cost a dozen barrels of wheat in trade.
‘You look as if you have raided the closet of the old Priestess of Isis,’ he’d said.
She had cringed. He’d hated hurting her, but it had been the only way to make her understand. He was not going to dance with her. Not ever.
‘Do you not like how I have painted my face?’ she’d asked.
He’d gazed at her mystical eyes, which had been kohled and then powdered with glorious green.
‘I see you have been deep in the malachite pot.’
Her breaths had been short. ‘I thought you liked the colour green against my skin.’
‘You know that I have joined the rebel army, Nebetta. I am a soldier now. I cannot go off dancing with you. I must do my duty.’
‘Every man in Thebes is in the rebel army. They are all at the feast.’
‘Not every man.’ His stomach had turned, as it always did when he thought of his father’s death.
She’d stared out across the river. ‘You must let him go, Intef.’
‘I cannot,’ he had whispered.
‘You will not,’ Nebetta had replied.
A breeze had come up and tousled her hair, but she had not attempted to correct it. She’d only stared off across the river while a single tear made a green malachite path down her colourless cheek.
He’d cut the fishing line with his knife. His fish had lain motionless on the ground, but he had not attempted to retrieve it.
‘I am sorry, Nebetta.’
Nebetta’s ferry boat had sounded its bell, but it had been Intef who had silently walked away...
He had been walking ever since.
Intef gazed down at Aya’s slumbering form. She had rolled on to her stomach and her arms had stretched out on to the floor. It was as if she were embracing the tiles, protecting her Pharaoh. Even in her sleep, it seemed, she would not cease to do her duty.
What a good woman she was. How loyal and true was her heart. He knew that heart could not belong to him, or anyone else. It belonged to Pharaoh Tausret alone.
And thank the gods for that, for he had never wanted her heart. Love was only pain and he did not wish to suffer any more. He had done his duty as best he could, had kept her at a distance. And that was well, for soon he would give her to Setnakht.
He had no choice.
He braced himself against the shrine as a wave of nausea hit him. Setnakht would marry her to his son Rameses and she would become a royal brood mare, just as Tausret had been. Her life would no longer be her own. It would be no life at all.
But was that not the fate of all living souls? What did life mean if one could not serve some useful purpose? She had sacrificed her life up until now in the service of Tausret and was obviously proud of that fact. Who was he to decide what she would or would not wish? What mattered were the thousands of lives that would be saved by her marriage—both living Egyptians and Egyptians yet to be.
No life was worth more than any other. Not even the life of the woman he...
He quickly slid down on the bed mat beside her and turned on his side, facing away from her. He seemed to be seeing things more clearly now, with so much daylight pouring in. There was no future for them, nor could there ever be. If Intef did not do his duty and give Aya to Setnakht, men would die. There was no more to think about.
He closed his eyes and, finally, went to sleep.
She awoke to the sound of his gentle snores. He was lying on his side, facing her. She could tell because she could feel the wind of his breath in her hair. It occurred to her that it was the first time she had ever slept beside a man. It was not an unpleasant sensation, though it was rather difficult avoiding the desire to nuzzle up against his chest.
She wondered what other pleasures lay unexplored between them. She feared there were many and also that she would never know them. She sensed their association was quickly coming to an end.
She had always sensed that he was hiding something from her and now felt certain she knew what it was: he was not going to help her find the heir. It was the only explanation for his misguided obsession that she was the heir. It was a lie he told himself in order to retain his own honour, for he planned to save his family and then return to the army where he belonged.
Strangely, she did not blame him. He was a good man, an honourable man, and it made sense that he would wish to return to his duty. It also meant that after this night she would never see him again.
The thought made her feel unexpectedly bleak. In her life at court, she had known many men. To a very few, she had even been attractive. She could count on one hand the number of times she had been propositioned by such men, though she had always refused them. She had never trusted their intentions, nor did she feel anything for them at all. In her mind, they were just alternative versions of Bay.
Now all she could imagine was Intef’s touch, his kiss, his arms around her, and how much she wished to feel those things one last time before their time together was through.
When he opened his eyes again, all was dark. The cool night air was pouring in from the tunnel and he gulped it into his lungs. He felt full of energy and lay restless upon his bed mat, wondering what he could do to occupy himself.
The storerooms certainly needed tidying, as did the hall. They would need to bring the latrine to the surface—a task that he would insist on doing himself—and return all the furniture to the storage rooms. There really was much to be done.
He was pulling himself off the bed mat when he heard her sigh.
‘Intef, are you awake?’ He could not see her, but it sounded as if she was lying on her back.
‘I am awake, but I did not believe you to be.’
‘I have been awake for some time,’ she said.
‘It seems that we have become creatures of the night.’
‘My thoughts will not cease.’
‘Nor will mine. There is much to think about,’ he said.
‘And so little time.’
He moved to rise once again. ‘I am going to begin organising the corridor now and—’
She placed her hand upon his arm. ‘That is not what I mean.’ Her voice was thick. ‘Will you not lie beside me for a while?’
Confused, he lay back down beside her, noticing that she did not take her hand off his arm. ‘Tomorrow at this time, we will be sneaking out of the valley,’ she observed.
He laughed. ‘Or running for our lives.’
‘Are the Medjay guards as dangerous as they say?’
‘Worse,’ said Intef.
Aya gasped. ‘If they catch us...’
Intef touched her hand. ‘We will have our bows.’
‘And each other.’ She lifted her hand and entwined her fingers with his. ‘You have taught me so much, but I feel as if there is much more you can teach me.’
His heart thumped. ‘What is it that you wish to learn?’
She pulled his hand to her mouth and kissed it. ‘Everything.’
He felt as if he had just been pushed over a cliff. Her lips were so soft on his hand. ‘What do you mean, Aya?’
‘I wish to wander the marshes with you,’ she said. ‘Will you take me to them? Will you show me the way?’
Intef placed his free hand over his mouth to test his breath. He needed to be sure he was not dreaming. ‘Aya, do you understand what you are asking?’
‘I understand. I only ask that you do not sow your seed. I cannot risk it.’
‘But...the tomb...your Pharaoh...’
‘I do not believe Tausret would be troubled,’ she said.
‘Apologies. I do not understand. I thought—’
‘Intef, I wish to live. Just once, before I return to my duty. Last night I thought you had died and...’ She paused, squeezing his hand.
His heart thrummed, filling with some unrecognisable emotion.
‘I will confess that Pharaoh did not want me to return to my duty at all,’ she said.
Intef nearly choked. ‘What?’
‘She made me promise once. After her death, she wished for me to live, to be free.’
‘Why did you never tell me that?’ asked Intef. They were the words a mother said to a daughter, further proof of Aya’s identity.
‘She said those words without knowing the future. How could she have guessed that her heir and her very afterlife would be threatened, and me the only one that could save them both?’
‘But you must keep that promise, Aya, you must live. You must—’
‘If I did not do right by Pharaoh, than what is my life worth at all? You feel the same about your family, no?’
Intef could not argue. ‘You are a good woman.’
The very best.
‘And you are a good man,’ Aya said. ‘I see that now. And here we are, both of us with the duties that await us,’ she said. ‘But we have this night—our last night together. I do not expect you to help me protect the heir. You have given me the ability to do that on my own. And I know you do not wish to be friends. But I have this...longing for you that I do not understand. I am only asking that we—’
‘Shh...’ he said. ‘No more talking.’ He could not listen to another word, lest his body die by a thousand quakes. In a single motion, he sat up and straddled her. It was the same position he had assumed their first night in the tomb. He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, half-expecting to discover an arrow in her mouth.
Instead he found a soft, wet garden of lust.
It was as if she had taken their kiss from that first night and let it build inside her like a storm. She kissed him with enough passion to split the sky. She arched her body against his and he felt lightning shoot through his limbs. She swept her tongue through his mouth and he felt thunder in his bones.
‘For one so inexperienced, you are rather good at this,’ he said.
‘I have had the best of instructors.’
He pulled her lower lip into his mouth and sucked it. He was rewarded with her soft intake of breath. He pulled up her sheath and helped her lift it over her head, and there were her wondrous breasts—he could look at them all he liked.
And so he did. He gazed at the two small shapely mounds, like a drinking man gazing at two fine glasses of wine. He wanted to drink her in, all of her, and promised himself not to spill a drop.
He wrapped his lips around her nipple and heard her moan as his tongue caressed and teased. He moved to her other nipple, squeezing her flesh in his hands. ‘Oh gods, what are you doing?’ she said lustily.
‘I am going to make you melt,’ he said.
Desire pulsed through him. He fumbled with the knot of her loincloth, aware he was moving far too fast. He could not help himself.
He sent a silent prayer of thanks to Hathor, then pulled the garment free. She lay atop his bed sheet completely naked now and, because he could not see her, he determined that he was going to learn her body by kissing every part of it, leaving the best for last.
It would not be easy. His desire was already fully erect. It yearned to reach her paradise. But this was only her third time. It was also quite possibly her last time. He wished to make it unforgettable.
He began his important work at her feet. He massaged her soles with his hand, then kissed each of her toes one by one. He kissed slowly up the insides of her calves, then placed two long, soft kisses in the crooks of her knees.
‘That is lovely,’ she said.
Encouraged, he kissed up to the tops of her thighs and up and down both her arms. She was beginning to relax. He kissed her hands—sucking each finger—then went on to her shoulders, where he kissed just along the delicate bones.
He felt as if he were worshipping a goddess. He silently begged for her good favour as he kissed her holy throat, then kissed up and down her sacred neck.
‘Oh, Intef,’ the goddess breathed and he moved on to her ear and breathed his lust into it like a secret.
He kissed slowly down her chest—small, thoughtful kisses, for he did not want to rush. He was doing more than simply learning her body, he was attempting to chisel it into his mind. He wanted to remember it for ever.
He kissed all over her hips, letting his mouth hover over her desire so she might feel his breath on it. He heard her breaths becoming heavier.
He moved his head between her knees and began to kiss her inner thigh. One kiss, two kisses. Up he went, closer and closer to her desire.
Her legs squeezed together, trapping his head. She laughed nervously. ‘What are you about, my dear soldier?’
‘The more you can relax, the more pleasure you will feel. But you must trust me. Can you trust me, Aya?’
She nodded. ‘Just please...go slowly.’
He smiled. ‘I will go so slowly that you will be begging me to go faster.’