Magic of the Nile Read Free Page B

not starting now. As always she was secure in the knowledge that no one—not human, animal or demon—would interfere with her, protected as she was by Sobek’s amulet around her neck. A deserted road in the moonlight held no terrors for her, unlike the crowded, brightly lit village. Or her late father’s old home.
    ***
    As Tyema led the midmorning ceremony, chanting the hymns to Sobek, she was more conscious than usual of the small but attentive crowd of worshippers. Normally she blotted out any thought of the onlookers and lost herself in singing the sacred music. Today she wondered if Sahure was there in the outer sanctuary and whether he’d be upset to learn she hadn’t told him her true identity. Her anxiety wasn’t relieved any by the fact he’d appeared in at least one of her dreams as well, smiling and holding out another red flower she’d been too frightened to accept. Awakening from the dream with a gasp, she couldn’t go back to sleep, disturbed by unfamiliar thoughts and desires. Tossing and turning left her tired. By the time the ceremony was over and she was free to retreat to her office in the temple’s new wing, tension was rising in her like a wave. A small headache pounded over her left eye, spreading tentacles of pain through her head.
    The temple scribe Jemkhufu was waiting in her private study, arms full of scrolls and tablets. He bowed as she entered, already enumerating the tasks ahead. “We’ve a busy morning ahead of us, my lady. Reports on the grain harvest, the tally sheets for the papyrus shipment—”
    Tyema thanked her maids as they removed the complicated headdress and wig, substituting a simpler style, accented with a small circlet bearing Sobek’s cartouche in relief. As the women took the ceremonial items away to be stored for tomorrow’s rituals, she rubbed her forehead and sat in her gold—and—ebony chair. Putting her feet on the hippo shaped stool, she forced herself to ask the one thing she cared about right now. “Are there any audiences?”
    Surprised, he moved his quill down the list of items on the scroll, ticking each off as he went. “Why, yes, there’s a Captain Sahure who requests a meeting.” With a satisfied sneer on his thin lips, the scribe raised one eyebrow. “I told him to wait until tomorrow as your schedule was full today.”
    “I’ll see him now.” Might as well get it over with. Last night was a pleasant diversion, but he’ll be angry I deceived him and I’ve no more time to indulge myself in foolishness. Why did I let myself be tempted into spending the entire evening in his company? She rubbed her forehead where the ceremonial sun-disk had ridden so heavily on her head.
    “Are you sure, my lady?“ Jemkhufu set down his tablet and quill and came around the table to stand next to her, exaggerated concern in his every move, as if she were a fragile piece of statuary. He patted her shoulder. “You’re pale. Another headache?”
    Trapped in the chair, Tyema leaned back, shrugging his hand off her body. “I’ll be fine. I have herb infused syrup here, made from my late grandmother’s recipe.” She indicated the duck shaped pitcher on her table. “It’s not your job to worry after my health.”
    He retreated a step or two but stayed in the room. “Your health concerns me because I care, my lady. You’re important to the temple—and to me.” Tilting his head, he gave her a look of such studied significance, Tyema was tempted to laugh. Unfortunately she knew he was utterly serious.
    “The Great One Sobek watches over me at all times.” Probably best to remind this overly familiar scribe of the fact. “I need no human intervention so turn your attentiveness in other directions.” From the downcast expression on his face, now she was sure she’d hurt his feelings. Exasperation made her tone unusually sharp. “Summon the captain so I can hear his business with our temple.” She waved one hand at the door.
    The scribe bowed low and