Chapter 26 #2
“Of course you are. I’ll have the servants bring a meal to your chambers. We’ll prepare a bath, a fresh dress, get your hair in order, and—”
“Nebet.” Sita knew that her attendant was happy to see her, but she didn’t have time for her ministrations. With a meaningful glance toward the guards hovering nearby, Sita whispered, “You are one of the few people I can trust. Walk with me. There are things I must ask of you.”
Nebet’s well-rehearsed smile didn’t falter. “I understand, my princess,” she said, and they began slowly making their way toward her rooms, nodding at inquisitive courtiers and officials who greeted the princess along the way.
On the surface, the palace hadn’t changed much since Sita left, but there was an undercurrent of tension and violence—like fingers wrapped around a throat—that pervaded the gilded halls. Mery’s influence, no doubt.
“Where is Femi?” she asked quietly. “Tell me he’s alive.”
Nebet cast a glance at the guards following behind them and said, “I can’t say for sure.
I was told the king’s men were interrogating him for information about where you’d gone, and that afterward he fled and hasn’t been seen since.
They said he must have had help getting away, but no one knows who it was. ”
Sita nearly collapsed with relief. It was terrible to think what Mery might have done to him, but if Femi had been able to escape, she knew he’d be all right. What will I do if I see him again? she wondered. “And what of my mother?”
“The queen has not been the same since your father’s death,” Nebet said with sadness. “She has been spending a great deal of time alone in the pleasure garden. According to the gardeners, she has developed a keen interest in plants. Perhaps it is her way of coping with the grief.”
That’s strange, Sita thought. Mother always hated anything involving dirt. Before she could inquire further, Nebet called out to two maidservants who were hurrying down the hall toward them with empty food trays in hand.
“Ah, Herit! Ahura! Just who I wanted to see. Quite a day we’re having—first one precious girl returned to us, now two!”
Sita didn’t recognize either of the servants, so they must have been new. The shorter one, a curvaceous young woman with curly black hair, paused before seeming to recognize who she was greeting.
“Princess Sitamun!” the woman exclaimed and dipped her head in a bow.
The other servant, who was unusually tall and broad, stared at Sita in astonishment. The shorter girl nudged her with an elbow several times before she too dropped into a clumsy bow. When she looked up again, it seemed like she wanted to speak but decided against it.
“Ahura, is it?” Sita asked. “Is everything all right?”
Ahura gripped the tray so hard that the muscles in her arms and shoulders flexed.
She looks more suited to wrestling lions than sweating over a washbasin, Sita thought. She’d never seen a more intimidating servant girl in her life. Strange, she’s not Mery’s type.
“It’s…good to have you back, um, Princess,” Ahura said.
Her companion, Herit, chimed in. “Yes, so very good,” she said smoothly. “What can we do to help, Nebet?”
“Put together a tray for Sitamun and bring it to her chambers right away,” Nebet replied. “Bread, fruit, some jute mallow leaf soup, a bit of roast duck if you’ve got some…”
“Wine?” Herit inquired.
Nebet replied without hesitation. “No wine. A jug of fresh water will do.”
Sita pursed her lips. I suppose I deserve that.
Nebet turned to her. “Is there anything else you need, Sitamun?”
“Can one of you go to the temple and find Prince Bakenamun?” Sita said. “I didn’t see him at the ceremony for Renenutet, and I need to speak to him at once.”
Ahura perked up at this request. “He’s already in the palace. We just picked up his empty trays.”
“What? Where?”
Ahura pointed to one of the bedchambers that Sita remembered having been unoccupied when she left.
The guards were watching her every move, and she was parched, half-starved, and covered in sand, but Sita couldn’t wait another second to see the brother she’d neglected for so long. She didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but that day, she vowed to make things right between them.
“Nebet, please keep the guards occupied for a little while,” Sita said, and before anyone could object, she walked to the chamber and pushed through the thick curtain.
Kenna sat beside a slight, bald-headed girl who was tucked into bed.
The bedchamber was messy, with an odd assortment of objects strewn across every surface—piles of scrolls, tiny alabaster jars, bundles of dried leaves, feathers, and animal bones tied in twine.
Either the girl didn’t care to keep her room tidy, or someone had turned the place upside down.
Kenna and the girl spoke quietly, their heads bent close together. The girl had bruises on her arms and a fresh bandage around her neck, and her brother’s face was creased with worry. They both looked up in alarm at Sita’s arrival.
“Sitamun?” Kenna exclaimed, jumping up so abruptly that he knocked over the stool he’d be sitting on.
The girl gasped and sat up in bed. There were wadjet eyes tattooed on each of her shoulders, marks usually reserved for a high priestess. But this girl couldn’t have been older than thirteen.
Sita frowned. The girl was familiar. Very familiar.
“You’ve returned!” Kenna wove around the clutter to reach her, stopping short of an embrace. “I was worried.” He paused, gathering himself. Sita had never seen him so flustered. “I…I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again.”
“Kenna—” Sita began.
Kenna raised a hand. “Wait. Before you continue, there’s something I need to say to you.
When you came to the temple that day, you were trying to tell me about…
about what was going on with Father. And with you and Mery.
I understand that now. I was a fool not to see it, not to have put the clues together. ”
“Kenna, please—”
“I belittled you. I turned you away. And when you disappeared, when no one could find you…I thought that Mery had…” His face crumpled.
“Kenna.”
Sita knew Kenna didn’t really like being touched, so instead of pulling him into her arms the way she wanted to, Sita tried to put all her affection into the sound of her voice.
“I’m sorry too,” she said. “If I had taken the time to understand you better, to visit your domain instead of always expecting you to come to mine, then you wouldn’t have had so many reasons to doubt my word.
You deserve better. Especially from me.”
Gratitude smoothed the worry lines on Kenna’s face.
“You know the truth about Father, then?” Sita asked.
Kenna nodded. “I deduced the likelihood of death by poison during the mummification process.” He tilted his head toward the girl on the bed. “Nefermaat supplied the rest.”
Sita froze. “Nefermaat,” she whispered.
The lamb.
“You’re the girl I saw at the Festival of Bast,” Sita said in awe. “You’re the girl who had a vision of the Oracle of the Lamb. You’re here!”
Nefermaat gave a small nod. “Greetings to you, Princess Sitamun. I’ve been praying for your safe return. I’m so happy to see you.”
Sita swooned.
Kenna darted forward to help her into a chair and pushed a cup of fresh water into her hands. She gulped it down and asked for more. A familiar striped cat that had been dozing on the windowsill came to nuzzle at Sita’s hand.
Sita’s head still spun, but the water was helping.
Kenna asked, “Are you all right? From the condition of your skin and the odor of your garments, you’ve had quite the journey through the desert.
Red sand granules mixed with gold…hmm, yes.
Quite the journey! And given the hairs stuck to the bottom of your robes—on horseback!
I’m curious about the stone dust in your hair, though… ”
Nefermaat cleared her throat. “Perhaps you can continue your deductions once your sister has had a chance to rest?”
Kenna’s cheeks flared pink. “Ah. Yes, of course. When’s the last time you’ve had anything to eat, Sitamun?”
“Yesterday, I think,” Sita said, scratching the purring cat behind her ears. “I broke my fast with Karim before we parted ways.”
Nefermaat beamed. “You were with Karim?”
Sita nodded. “He told me about you. He said you met at the temple.”
Kenna was perplexed. “You mean that mouthy Red Lander? How in the world did you cross paths with him?”
“The oracle made it happen,” Nefermaat said. “It’s as I told you, Kenna!”
Kenna glanced between them, wonder in his eyes. “There are great and terrible things afoot, Sitamun. Great and terrible things.” Briefly, he and Nefermaat shared Meryamun’s plans for the cursing ritual that would take place the next day.
“He’s planning to sacrifice Low Khetaran prisoners during this ritual?” Sita said, aghast.
“More than a dozen of them.”
Sita set down the cup and stood. “He’ll reconsider further alienating the south when I tell him that Khetara is at war.”
Nefermaat’s brow furrowed. “War?”
“With whom?” Kenna asked.
“Do you remember the ancient pharaoh Karim asked you about? Setnakht? It may be hard to believe, but he’s returned—resurrected from his tomb through powerful heka.
And he has raised an army of enchanted ushabti to help him retake the kingdom.
They’re on the march to Thonis as we speak. We haven’t a moment to waste.”
There was a long, shocked silence as this revelation sank in. Then Nefermaat murmured, “‘A secret shall rise from beneath the earth, and the Red and White crowns will be forever broken.’”
“That’s why I came back,” Sita went on. “To warn Mery and everyone else. I will speak with him in his chambers tonight.”
Kenna shook his head. “Sitamun, please. He won’t listen to you, not after what he’s done. You are only putting yourself in danger. I’m exceedingly glad to see you, but you never should have returned to the palace.”