“Please,” said the Pharaoh, “be seated.” She gestured at a stone bench near hers.
Grandma Jo bowed, then sat down. “Your Majesty.”
Belatedly, Jennifer dipped her head in a jerky curtsey.
Hatshepsut laughed. “You needn’t stand on ceremony here, my dears. Come, sit. Dje-Nefer, isn’t it? Such a pretty name. Who is this with you? Your grandmother, you said?”
“It’s just a term of respect,” Grandma Jo said hastily.
“I see,” said Hatshepsut.
“This is a beautiful place,” said Grandma Jo. Jennifer gingerly sat next to her on the bench. Grandma Jo settled her black bag on the ground, then took one of Jennifer’s hands and held it. Jennifer held back, hard.
“Thank you. It’s my favorite courtyard,” said Hatshepsut. The Pharaoh picked up a piece of bread from beside her. “Excuse me. I can never eat at the feasts, with so many people watching my every move. Do you mind?”
“No, of course not,” said Grandma Jo.
Hatshepsut bit down on the bread. “Ow!” she said, wincing. “I shall have to have that tooth removed.”
“Are you going to arrest us?” Jennifer blurted.
“Arrest you? Whatever for?” Hatshepsut prodded at her cheek with one plump hand.
“Because—because—don’t you think I’m a demon?” asked Jennifer. “Ka-Aper does.”
Hatshepsut shook her head, making the tiny disks in her hair tinkle. “Ah, Ka-Aper. He is one who sees demons everywhere. I do not believe in them. But of course, I cannot let that be known in front of my people. They would be shocked.”
“So you had to pretend to agree with him?” asked Jennifer.
“Yes.” Hatshepsut sighed. “Unfortunately, the last time he claimed that someone was possessed by a demon, I was unable to save the child. Bibi knows how much I regret that.” She nodded towards the man who had carried Grandma Jo. He had withdrawn from them and now stood back in the shadows, with his arms once more folded across his broad chest.
“We know who the real demons are,” he said.
“You do?” said Jennifer.
Hatshepsut chuckled. “Do not be afraid. We have never seen a demon, though others say they exist. Bibi refers to those misguided people who enjoy frightening children. Ka-Aper is one of them, as you have found out. He was not always this way. I remember a time when he was open-minded and more inclined to philosophy and research. He was a staunch supporter when I took the throne. Now, he has joined the ranks of those who oppose my policies, in the name of ‘doing what’s right for the people.’ There are even some of those who seek my death.”
“Well, uh, Ka-Aper is one of them,” said Jennifer.
“Oh, I do not think he would be so bold as to attack me.”
“Maybe not, but he could get someone else to do it,” said Jennifer. She leaned forward. “Which I think he did. I heard him.”
“You did? How?” asked Hatshepsut.
“I followed him. He went into the basement of a warehouse and met with some men. Tomb robbers!”
“Tomb robbers?” Hatshepsut’s head snapped up. “So. Ka-Aper now stoops as low as that. I did not know.”
“He said they had a map to someone’s tomb. He also gave them a package that I saw him get from a house near ours. I think it had some sort of poison in it. Then he said that when the Pharaoh was dead, he would act as surprised as everyone else.”
“He truly intends my death? That puts a new face on the situation,” said Hatshepsut. “His little conspiracy has grown fangs.”
“You mean, you knew about it?” asked Jennifer.
The Pharaoh sighed. “My earthly father was a good man, but even he had to combat the occasional conspiracy against him. I learned from him to be wary. I have spies in the city—in the market, in the streets, and yes, even in the temple. In all my twenty years on the throne, I have managed to thwart several conspiracies. I knew Ka-Aper was up to something, but not what, exactly. Nor do I know who his co-conspirators are. If I could find one, he might be persuaded to expose Ka-Aper.”
“I think I know who Ka-Aper’s friends are,” said Jennifer. “Or at least one of them.”
“Who might that be?” asked Hatshepsut.
Jennifer hung her head. She didn’t want to say it.
“Come, child, you must tell me.”
“N-Neferhotep,” Jennifer stutterd. “He’s a priest of Amon-Ra, and Ramose…m-my father’s…brother.”
“Ah,” said Hatshepsut. “Why do you think he is part of the conspiracy?”
“Neferhotep believes in demons. He had the map for the tomb robbers, which Ka-Aper now has. And when I ran away from Ka-Aper—did I tell you, he nearly caught me?—Neferhotep found me. He was breathing hard, like he’d been running. Chasing me, maybe.” She took a deep breath. “Then when we were hiding, here in the palace, I looked out and saw him.”
Hatshepsut nodded. “I know. I sent him after you this evening.”
“You sent him?” said Jennifer.
“Yes. Just as I sent him after Ka-Aper that day. After you…escaped…from us tonight, Ka-Aper sent guards and others to find you. I asked Neferhotep to follow you, to make sure that they did not succeed.”
“You mean…he’s on your side?” asked Jennifer.
“Yes,” said Hatshepsut, “and has been for some time. He, too, suspected Ka-Aper of some untoward dealings. He came to me.”
“I couldn’t find any proof, though,” said Neferhotep, as he came striding through the bushes. He smiled at Jennifer and bowed to the Pharaoh. “Ka-Aper is very clever.”
“But I thought,” Jennifer began.
“I told you I had spies everywhere, even the temple,” said Hatshepsut. “You shouldn’t suspect your own uncle, child. I think your grandmother would tell you that.”
“Grandmother?” asked Neferhotep, as he sat cross-legged on the ground by the Pharaoh. He looked expectantly at Jennifer. “Dje-Nefer, your grandmothers are both deceased.”
“Oh! This is G-, I mean Mutemwija. Of course you know she isn’t really my grandmother. I just call her that. We met her in the market. She’s the one who made our outfits,” said Jennifer, plucking at the fabric of her dress.
“I am honored to meet you,” said Neferhotep.
“Thank you,” said Grandma Jo. “It’s an honor to meet you, too.”
“You came to the feast with Dje-Nefer, then?”
“No,” said Grandma Jo. “Actually, I sneaked in. I told a nice young soldier that I had a cousin in the kitchens whom I wanted to visit, and he let me pass. He was a sweetie.”
“Wow, really? That doesn’t sound like most of the soldiers I’ve seen,” said Jennifer.
“What do you mean?” asked Hatshepsut.
“I saw some of them taking ‘traitors’ away, when I first got…uh, one day,” said Jennifer. “They were pretty rough.”
“What? My soldiers have no orders to do that,” said Hatshepsut.
“Perhaps they are following someone else’s orders,” said Neferhotep. “One who thinks soldiers have better things to do than break up arguments in the marketplaces.”
“My army is only for peacekeeping and defense,” said Hatshepsut. “I do not believe in making war upon my neighbors.”
Neferhotep cleared his throat. “There are those who believe otherwise.”
“You mean my nephew. I know,” said Hatshepsut, “that he would prefer glory. But I have him safe under the priests’ eyes at the moment, where he cannot make too much trouble.”
“Maybe,” said Jennifer, remembering how the soldiers had looked to Prince Thutmose for permission to take her away. “Ka-Aper is a priest.”
Hatshepsut was silent for a moment. “That is true.”
“In any case, I still need the proof that Ka-Aper is involved in this particular conspiracy,” said Neferhotep. “After Dje-Nefer and Tetisheri visited me in the temple, I followed Ka-Aper to what I suspected might be a meeting. I think he knew I was following him. He lost me in a market.”
“I followed him, too,” said Jennifer.
“You did?” asked Neferhotep. “That was dangerous.”
“She has already proven that she is a brave child,” said Hatshepsut.
Neferhotep smiled. “I know. Did you discover anything, Dje-Nefer?”
“Yes,” said Jennifer. “I thought he could lead me back to the temple, but instead, he went to a deserted warehouse.”
“The warehouse! Of course,” said Neferhotep.
“I was curious, so I went in after him and listened to them talking. There were three of them, Ka-Aper and two others,” said Jennifer. “I thought you might have been one of them.”
“Me!”
“You did find me right after that.”
“I saw you go by, so I abandoned my search for Ka-Aper and ran after you,” said Neferhotep. He turned to the Pharaoh. “It wasn’t a very nice neighborhood. I had to look after my niece.”
“Of course,” Hatshepsut murmured.
“I thought that Ka-Aper had sent you after me,” said Jennifer. “I even thought you were going to take me to him. He showed up at our door right after that.”
“To invite you to the feast. I didn’t know you’d been invited until he told me. I wondered why.”
“He said he wanted to present Ramose to the Pharaoh,” said Jennifer.
“I think he had a different intent in mind,” said Hatshepsut. “He would like to see my utter destruction, would he not, Bibi?”
“Yes,” said Bibi, still standing behind her. “He accuses people of being possessed by demons so that the populace will think the gods have abandoned us.”
“He knows that I still have soldiers and priests loyal to me, so he does not dare attack me. Not yet,” said Hatshepsut. “Though I begin to wonder what my nephew is planning.”
“He still feels that you stole the crown from him, your Majesty,” said Neferhotep, in a low voice.
Hatshepsut nodded. “I know.”
“What else could you do?” asked Jennifer. “He was only a baby when your brother died.”
“It has been a good reign, Majesty. We have had peace and prosperity for twenty years,” said Neferhotep. “You have made trade treaties with other countries, and you have built beautiful monuments.”
“Thanks to my faithful friend Senmut,” said Hatshepsut.
“We all mourn the day he died,” said Neferhotep. “He was a good man.”
“It is only recently that things have begun to go badly,” said Hatshepsut. “I became Pharaoh because I thought it was the right thing to do.”
“Amon-Ra himself sanctioned it,” said Neferhotep. “He inhabited your father’s body and your mother later gave birth to you. He is your true father.”
“Many do not believe it,” said Hatshepsut.
“Ka-Aper and his friends sure don’t,” said Jennifer. “They said your reign was blash…blas…something.”
“Blasphemous?” asked Hatshepsut. “That it goes against the gods’ wishes?”
“Yes, and that’s why you’re having a drought,” said Jennifer.
“Always, he seeks a means to undermine my authority,” said Hatshepsut, pounding her fist into the bench. “Even if he must find demons under every rock to do it.”
Neferhotep nodded. “Even now. He still has guards out looking for Dje-Nefer. Don’t worry, niece, the rest of your family is safe. I brought them to one of your rooms, your Majesty, before I went searching for Dje-Nefer myself. A good thing, too, or they might have been pressed into service to look for you. Some of the guests were. I met one of them just before I found your hiding place.”
“You knew where we were?” asked Jennifer.
“I saw your footprints,” said Neferhotep. “I went to report that you weren’t in that corridor. But when I came back, you were gone.”
“I found them,” said Bibi. “I brought them to my Pharaoh.”
“Footprints?” asked Grandma Jo. “You didn’t tell me we’d left them, Jen.”
“In the sticky puddle. Remember?”
“Yes, I’m afraid one of your jars of myrrh must have a leak, your Majesty,” said Neferhotep.
“Myrrh!” said Jennifer.
“It is my favorite scent,” said Hatshepsut. “I use it for almost everything.”
Jennifer and Grandma Jo exchanged glances.
Neferhotep chuckled. “I wish the fellow I met in the hall had made use of it. I sent him off in a different direction so I didn’t have to smell him anymore. He reeked of fish.”
“Fish?” said Jennifer. “Seneb sells fish in the market. Meryt-Re buys from him.”
“I remember now,” said Neferhotep. “She mentioned him once.”
“Wait,” said Jennifer. “Meryt-Re said his nose didn’t work right. The man in the warehouse said he couldn’t tell if the wine was any good, because he couldn’t smell it! It’s Seneb!”
“A fish merchant?” said Hatshepsut, in a wondering tone. “One of the tomb robbers? If this is true, then Ka-Aper has certainly found some unusual friends.”
“Meryt-Re called him a pirate,” said Jennifer.
The Pharaoh sat back on her bench and thought for a moment. Then she rose. “Come,” she said, turning and heading away from the pool in the courtyard.
They all followed, Bibi supporting Grandma Jo with an arm under her shoulders. Pebbles crunched under their feet as they pushed past the fragrant branches of the trees. The path they followed ended near a doorway. Hatshepsut stepped through it and beckoned the others forward, into a room filled with light from dozens of oil lamps. Jennifer blinked in the sudden brightness.
Hatshepsut gracefully crossed the room, her sandaled feet skimming the tiled floor. She perched on a square golden chair, resting her elbows on its flat arms, her fingers curled over the snarling leopards’ heads that decorated the ends. She nodded at several nearby benches and chairs. Bibi eased Grandma Jo down to a seat, feeling for it with his outstretched fingers, still with his eyes closed. With a start, Jennifer realized that he was blind.
“Bring this Seneb to me,” Hatshepsut instructed Bibi. He nodded and left through the same door that the servants had used. “Neferhotep, do you think you could convince Ka-Aper to attend as well?”
“I think he still trusts me,” said Neferhotep. “I have taken pains to assure him I know nothing of politics.”
“Good. We will see what he says when we tell him we know about his…business,” said Hatshepsut.
Neferhotep followed Bibi. Jennifer and Grandma Jo sat in silence with Hatshepsut. Grandma Jo rummaged in her black bag, then wiped her face on a scrap of linen that she’d found. She squinted at something that had fallen out with the linen, then shrugged and dropped it back in.
The Pharaoh waited patiently, not even tapping her fingers on the chair arms. She could have been one of her own statues.
Jennifer sat back and looked around the room. A few small representations of the Pharaoh, some in men’s clothing, and some in women’s, stood on tables and cluttered shelves around the richly-decorated room. The furniture, strewn about in various places, was delicate and graceful, most of it painted gold.
One corner held a short cupboard, its doors painted with representations of the gods. On top, Jennifer recognized the red and white double crown of Upper and Lower Egypt, resting in splendid isolation. The image of a man wearing a split white crown was painted on the wall above the cupboard. Jennifer remembered him from the museum—Amon-Ra, the city-god of Thebes. A naked baby, one finger in its mouth, stared up at him.
Hatshepsut was watching Jennifer, an amused smile on her face.
“You are wondering if Amon-Ra truly is my father. When my father died, my brother Thutmose the Second became Pharaoh, even though he was only the son of my father’s second wife. I became Great Royal Queen,” said Hatshepsut. She smiled sadly. “When Thutmose died, many bureaucrats and officials immediately began to think they could gain power. I had to take steps or my country might have suffered from their greed.”
“So you claimed the crown for yourself,” said Grandma Jo.
“There was much opposition to it.” Hatshepsut sighed. “I did have some support. My good friend Senmut. Some officials, some priests. Even Ka-Aper—then. I know my action was not popular. Then, one night Amon-Ra came to me in a dream. He said I was his daughter.”
“Really?” asked Jennifer. “His daughter?”
“Yes! Of course, all Pharaohs are children to the gods, as Horus was to Osiris and Isis,” said Hatshepsut. “So as daughter to Thutmose the First, and to the god Amon-Ra, I was therefore doubly suited to sit on the throne, even though I am a woman. I am the female Horus.”
“Was it really Amon-Ra?”
“I do not know. But sometimes, late at night, I have glimpsed a man, in a white kilt and headdress, glowing with life…well. I cannot say.” Hatshepsut leaned back in her chair, her gaze focused on something beyond the wall.
“Did you really wear men’s clothing?” asked Jennifer, peering at one of the small statues.
“Indeed I did,” said Hatshepsut. “Only a few times, when I was much younger. There were many who said they wanted a man to reign. So I obliged them. It amused me greatly to dress like one—fake beard, short kilt, a man’s headdress, and all. My enemies found it discomfiting. It also shut them up. It was most satisfactory.”
There was a noise from the corridor outside the room. Jennifer heard voices, but couldn’t make out the words.
“Ah,” said Hatshepsut, with a grim smile.
Ka-Aper burst into the room, his cape swirling behind him, followed by Neferhotep and a couple of guards. Ka-Aper stopped talking when he saw Hatshepsut. His gaze skipped between her and Jennifer, and his eyes narrowed. Finally, he smiled and bowed.
“Your Majesty!” he said. “You’ve found the demon! Well done.”
“Actually, it was my loyal servant Bibi who succeeded,” said Hatshepsut. “He brought her to me.”
“This is a temple matter. He should have brought her to us,” said Ka-Aper. He gestured at Neferhotep, who had stepped back a few paces.
The two guards stood on either side of Ka-Aper, their hands on their sword hilts. Hatshepsut looked at them and then at Neferhotep, who nodded.
“Seize him!” she ordered.
The two guards drew their short swords and gripped Ka-Aper’s arms. He struggled briefly, but couldn’t break their hold.
“Unhand me!” he shouted.
“These guards are loyal to the Pharaoh,” said Neferhotep. “My Lord Ka-Aper, you are under arrest.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “What for?”
“For treason,” said Hatshepsut. “For conspiring to end my life. And for tomb robbing.”
Ka-Aper’s painted eyebrows rose. “Another conspiracy? You have stopped many during your reign, have you not? Real or imaginary! Are you now suspecting even the priests of Amon-Ra—your father?”
“No man is immune to the desire for power—not even a priest,” said Hatshepsut.
Ka-Aper’s face looked as though he had a clever idea. “Your Majesty,” he purred, “it is easy to see that this demon girl has clouded your mind. You are not thinking clearly.”
“I am thinking clearly, thank you,” said Hatshepsut. “You were heard plotting with your friends to kill me. We know who at least one of your co-conspirators is.”
“Who might that be?”
“Seneb, the fish merchant,” said Hatshepsut.
Ka-Aper laughed. “Why would I consort with a seller of fish? The idea is preposterous.”
“I agree,” said Hatshepsut, “but we will ask the man himself. If I am not mistaken, here he comes now.”
Jennifer looked towards the doorway. Sure enough, Bibi was entering with a man, his skinny arm clamped in one of Bibi’s large, muscular hands. Jennifer wrinkled her nose as he drew nearer. It was Seneb, all right, despite the fact that he was dressed better than she’d seen him in the market. He wore gold jewelry and an intricately pleated white kilt. A lumpy leather pouch dangled from a strap slung crosswise over his chest. The smell of fish wafted from him, making Grandma Jo wrinkle her nose. Seneb’s gaze darted from Ka-Aper to the Pharaoh and back again.
“Who is this?” asked Ka-Aper.
“Why, it is Seneb the fish merchant,” said Hatshepsut. “Do you not know each other?”
“I have never seen this man in my life,” said Ka-Aper.
“Seneb? Is this true?” asked Hatshepsut.
“I…,” said Seneb, licking his lips. “O-of course.” He chuckled nervously. “Why would Ka-Aper know a simple fish merchant like me?”
“Yet you know his name,” said Hatshepsut.
“Of course,” said Seneb, with a weak chuckle. “Wh-who doesn’t know the famous Ka-Aper, priest of Amon-Ra?”
Hatshepsut stared at him. “Very well. Bibi, take him away. You know what to do with him.”
Seneb glanced up at Bibi, who grinned.
“Yes, your Majesty,” he said, starting to drag Seneb from the room.
“No! Wait!” said Seneb. “I do know him. He knows me! We’ve, uh, had some business together.”
Ka-Aper hissed in frustration.
“Like tomb robbing?” asked Hatshepsut.
“How did you know…I mean, no, of course not,” said Seneb. “Not tomb robbing.”
“Liar,” said Hatshepsut. “You were heard, speaking together. And then you were identified.”
Seneb glanced at Neferhotep, sneering. “You? Kai said—”
“Kai?” said Neferhotep. “The temple priest?”
Jennifer remembered him—the one who had tried to take the amulets from her.
“Don’t be a fool,” said Ka-Aper. “Neferhotep did not hear anyone.”
“Then who…” Seneb began. “The intruder! The one you chased…”
“I chased no one. I was not anywhere that I could chase an intruder,” said Ka-Aper, with a meaningful look at Seneb. “It is, I think, this child who claims to have heard you. This demon child.”
Seneb’s look of fright turned thoughtful. A slow smile spread across his face. “A mere child. One who is accused of being a demon. Who would believe her?”