About fourteen months after her arrival, in the Season of Peret, I suffered from stomach pains. Nefertiti learned about this and sought me out. I was surprised because, in the woods beyond the Residence I had found a small grove, a private place where I would go by myself with a jug of wine and some food to sit and think. I’d recall Dedi and her kindness, my days with Aunt Isithia, and I’d wonder why my father had been so cold. I tried to imagine my mother and, time and again, I would reflect on what Ay had told me. I’d go back along the years: my experience in the Kap, my friendship with Sobeck. Above all, I’d often wonder where the path I was treading would lead. At the time all seemed calm and quiet; Akhenaten and his wife, the ever-present Ay, the feeling of watchful calmness. Yet I also felt as if we were being prepared — but for what?
On that particular day the cramps in my belly were so harsh and painful I was glad to be alone. I took no food or wine but sat against the tree enjoying the green coolness of the glade. I heard a sound and looked up. Nefertiti stood there, a small basket in one hand, a cushion under her arm. She was dressed in a gauze-like robe, an embroidered sash round her slender waist. Usually she would have her hair bound or tied up. Now it was parted down the middle, tumbling freely to her shoulders. She wore no jewellery except for a silver Aten on a gold chain round her neck.
‘My lady.’
Before I could scramble to my feet, she placed the cushion on the ground and knelt before me.
‘Mahu, I understand you are ill.’ She gazed sadly at me. ‘Why didn’t you see me?’
‘I …’
‘Were you embarrassed?’ She must have noticed my cheeks flush.
I rubbed my stomach. ‘It will go soon enough. Must be something I ate.’
She opened the basket, took out a cup, poured in a few drops of liquid and handed it to me. I sniffed at the rim.
‘Juniper berries?’ I asked. Again I sniffed, this time more playfully. ‘And crushed almonds?’
‘And something else,’ she smiled. ‘Mahu, drink. It will calm the pains.’
I did so. No more than a mouthful, bittersweet to the taste, before those soft fingers took the cup from my hand. Nefertiti sat and watched.
‘Do you have such pains often?’
‘No, most glorious physician,’ I teased. ‘In fact, I am truly a baboon. I am very rarely ill.’
‘Aren’t you?’ She moved the basket so as to rest her hand just below my knee. ‘There are illnesses and illnesses, Mahu.’
‘My lady?’
‘Those of the soul,’ she retorted. ‘Why do you come here, Mahu?’
‘I thought I’d be alone. I thought no one could find me, so how did you?’
Nefertiti smiled, moving her head slightly from side to side.
‘I have a care for you, Mahu. I want to know where you go. The Beloved has told me about your bravery in the Kushite attack. How you have helped him,’ her voice grew hard, ‘with the traitors within.’
‘I am my master’s servant,’ I replied, reciting the diplomatic courtesy. ‘A mere footstool under his feet.’
She dug her nails into my leg until I winced.
‘If the Beloved heard that, he’d be angry. You are his friend, Mahu, his brother.’
‘He already has a brother.’
‘No, Mahu, he has a keeper. A young man who feels guilty about him.’
‘Could you not help the Crown Prince Tuthmosis?’ The words came spilling out before I could stop them.
‘Help?’ she queried. ‘How could I be of help to the Crown Prince?’
‘He has a racking cough.’
‘Dust,’ Nefertiti replied. ‘Our fates, Mahu, are written on the palm of God’s hand. What will be will be.’
‘You don’t believe that,’ I accused. ‘Neither you nor your father believe that.’
Nefertiti’s eyes were no longer sparkling, but cold, vigilant. I thought I had gone too far, given insult. She moved the basket and made herself more comfortable.
‘No, you are right.’ She paused, as if distracted by the cry of the birds. ‘Is that a hawk?’
‘No, my lady, a heron hunting over the river.’
‘No, Mahu,’ she continued. ‘Our fates are written on the palm of God’s hand but they are also written on our own. We do have a part to play. The Crown Prince Tuthmosis,’ she shrugged prettily, ‘he has his own physicians. If he asks for my help …’ She let the words hang. ‘Are you lonely, Mahu? Is that your sickness?’
I couldn’t stop myself. I began to tell her, haltingly at first, about my days with Aunt Isithia and my studies in the Kap. I am sure she knew this already but she wanted to hear it from my own lips. She seemed genuinely interested. Now and again she asked a question, particularly about my colleagues: Horemheb, Rameses, the friendship between Maya and Sobeck. I enjoyed it, sitting there in the silence, the Beautiful One before me. I was fully aware of her scent, her touch, her look: her very presence seemed like a cloud around me cutting me off from the rest of the world. I thought she would go but she stayed, telling me further details about her life. How she had a sister, Mutnodjmet, who loved pet baboons and dwarves.
‘You should introduce her to Horemheb,’ I teased. ‘They would have something in common.’
‘Perhaps I will. Tell me, how is your stomach now?’
Only then did I become aware of how the discomfort had completely disappeared. I felt calmer, more refreshed.
‘Have you ever flown, Mahu?’
I stared speechless.
‘Have you ever wished to fly like a bird?’ Nefertiti’s face was serious. ‘Or have you ever wished to feel the very essence of things?’
I recalled different dreams, the sensation of floating, of how I had once felt like a bird above the Nile, watching the boats, barges and punts below.
‘In my dreams,’ I agreed, ‘or when the wine has been drunk.’
‘And have you ever loved, Mahu?’
‘Once,’ I replied.
Again the sad gaze. ‘And what happened?’
‘Nothing,’ I replied, embarrassed and confused.
She opened the basket and took out a clay jug, modelled in the form of a poppy turned upside down.
‘From the Islands far out in the Great Green,’ Nefertiti explained, ‘a fragrant drink. Come, Mahu, don’t be suspicious. It will soothe your belly, your heart and your soul.’
She emptied this potion into the cup and I drank it greedily. I would have done anything she said. The drink was almost tasteless except for a slight sweetness. Nefertiti sat watching me all the time: her face seemed more beautiful, if that was possible, her eyes larger. She seemed to be closer, her breath upon my face. I was also aware of how the glade had changed. The trees took on a life of their own, the branches stretching down to caress me, the small wild flowers changing in colour, growing and receding as if the days and seasons had speeded up: their entire growth, flowering and dying caught in one exquisite moment. The sweetest music filled my ear. I felt so happy, I didn’t want to break from the moment. Memories came and went. Sobeck smiling down at me. My master leaning across the table and feeding me. The temple girls I had lain with were there, moving against a curtain of brilliant colour and, above all, Nefertiti. She was beside me, arms around me, her robes of glory slipping down her shoulder, her hands on my chest, moving down to my groin, the most delicious sensation of pleasure. We embraced. I could feel her cloying sweetness, her body sinuous, gorgeous in touch and smell. She was sitting astride me, hands on my chest, her beautiful face framed by hair which seemed to glow like fire, those blue eyes like sapphires catching the sun. I heard her voice deeper and sweeter. Other people were there. Ay kneeling beside us, also sharing her embrace. I was being lifted up, going towards the sky, which changed in colour from dark blue to a fiery red, dominated by the sign of the Aten. Then I was falling, dropping gently into a velvet darkness.