Six
THE next few days were more difficult than any I had ever had to endure. My life was wrecked; I was transitioning from all I was used to in the twenty-first century, to the primitive lifestyle lost to history. There was no science here, no electricity, nothing that remotely resembled technology. I'd wanted to take a long hot shower for days now, but my privy chamber contained a pool built into the floor where warm water flowed from the mouth of a lion statue. The soaps weren't anti-bacterial, but perfumed oils and fragrances made from the juices of blossoms and jasmines. They smelled divine, but I hardly felt clean.
My chamber was so lavish that the gilded frame that incased my bed was probably worth more than the Hope diamond. It was crafted from sycamore wood with intricate details carved into the wooden shafts, and inlaid with gold and ivory. Pearls that had once littered the floor of the Mediterranean were threaded into the silk drapes that decorated the windows. The sheets were spun from linen and dyed deep indigo blue. I sat on the edge to marvel the rest of the furniture, a glass vanity and a chair with cushions as soft as clouds. Golden chests that contained robes and gowns sat against the wall that was covered with tapestries. Ahmose wanted me to know he wasn't just the most powerful man in the world, but also the wealthiest.
But something was missing, and I knew it was Clair's sweet voice. I tried to envision her face, imagine how she would react if she were here instead of me. To be able to meet the lost King of Egypt and stay in his beautiful palace was her dream come true. I had also dreamed of finding Ahmose, but he was more mysterious than I had ever anticipated, and now I desperately wanted to go home.
There was a knock at the door, and my memories of Clair dissipated to the darkest corners of my mind. I didn't want company today, so when I didn't answer, the servant girl peeked in. I wasn't surprised to see her. She came in with a basket and left it on the table, glancing shyly at me. She often did this, watched me from the corner of her eye, hoping I wouldn't notice. She wasn't the only one who scrutinized me. Everyone kept their distance from me; the guards, servants, and even Ahmose seemed to keep his observant eyes on me. They didn't understand me, nor could they bring themselves to trust me.
I went to look inside the basket as the servant waited in a corner, her timid eyes fixated on the ceramic tiles that covered floor. She almost seemed afraid of me. But Pharaoh was the one who brought me into their home, so why would she doubt she was safe? Within the woven reeds I found more perfumed oils to bathe with.
In my privy chamber, the servant helped me out of my robes and I stepped into the warm pool. She rubbed the oils into my skin while I rinsed my hair in the fragrant water. Afterwards, I changed into a fresh robe and we left for the dining hall where we took lunch.
The corridor was long and shaded, the columns parting way for sunlight and the fresh cinnamon fragrance of the Sahara. We passed under the gleaming marble as they towered over us like prominent giants.
A child's cry echoed to us through the hall, and huddled on the tiles was a weeping boy. The servant ran to him, wrapped her arms around him, and searched for the source of his distress. He clutched his small knee, and he removed his hands to reveal a jagged scrape. She tried to console him, but another set of footfalls came from the end of the hall.
I shielded my eyes with my fingers and peered into the shadows lying at the end of the passage. I sank behind one of the columns when I saw Pharaoh coming. Two other men trailed behind him, one an older, balding man whose face was a grim mask, and the other a shorter, plump subject who scribbled furiously onto parchment to record their discussion.
Pharaoh wore a blue tunic threaded with gold and a beaded collar of lustrous rubies. His armlets were gold and fashioned with turquoise and lapis. His Nemes headdress was a splendid swatch of dyed linen inlaid with gold, and the gleaming uraeus was encrusted with ruby eyes.
The tall, lanky man paused in mid-sentence, bringing Pharaoh's attention to the disturbance. His eyes made a quick scan over the hall, coming to scrutinize the servant when he noticed the child in his way.
The older man shooed them, and the girl, becoming desperate when Pharaoh peered down at her, tried to tug the boy to his feet. He cried even more when he shifted his weight onto his bleeding leg, attempting to stand. He fell back onto his bottom.
The elderly man's face was beaming now, but Pharaoh's eyes remained stoic and impassive. He waited in his usual domineering stance, his shoulders squared and his arms folded behind his back. His face was a stone mask of despondence.
Growing more impatient with each second that passed, the old hunched-back man slammed his ceremonial staff against the tiled floor. He barked an order at the servant. I shrank farther behind the column as his sonorous voice boomed through the hall. Could the old man not see the child was injured? He must have been feeble, or perhaps he did not care because they were of a lower class than him. This was a time when the nobility of Egypt did not care about their servants. He huffed and adjusted his silk robe.
I wanted to run over and knock the staff out of his hands. He supported most of his weight on it, so he would probably fall to the floor without it.
I peeked around the column again, but this time I watched Pharaoh. He remained quiet. The elderly man elevated his staff to the servant as if to strike her with it, but Pharaoh raised his hand and he halted. Everyone fell silent, even the boy, though he couldn't help but sniffle. I couldn't see his face as he lifted his chin to look up at Pharaoh. The elderly man shot him a questioning look. The girl's eyes were wide with apprehension, and we all wondered what he would do. My heart thundered in my ears.
But Pharaoh's expression softened as he sunk to his knees, placing his hands around the boy and lifting him into his arms. He spoke softly, though I couldn't understand his words, his tone conveyed so many meanings. The boy immediately stopped crying.
I came from around the column, and the girl was the first to notice me, having forgotten I was even there. Then the old man craned his head to inspect me, finally drawing the attention of Pharaoh. This was the first time we had seen each other in the last few days. I thought I was accustomed to his beauty by now, but being seized by his amber eyes, I fell weak in the knees.
"Kara," he breathed. His voice was warm, soothing me just as it had the child in his arms.
"Is he your son?" I asked. He cradled the boy just as a father would his own child. Pharaoh glanced down at the boy and shook his head.
"Nay, I have no children of my own," he replied. A woman clad in white came from one of the passages, her eyes frantic as she searched the hall. She was older, and had streaks of gray in her ashen hair. Noticing the boy in Pharaoh's arms, she sighed. She spoke swiftly to him, and he allowed her to take the boy into her own arms. She began to chastise him, just as a worried nanny would, as she carried him away.
The servant girl rose to her feet and bowed deep, properly greeting the King of Egypt. But he paid no mind to her, and shifted his golden eyes to mine, shielding them as he came from the shadows. With every move he made, he embodied dignity. With the wave of his hand, he dismissed the scribe and the old man.
The frown on his lips lifted slightly, and he allowed a sigh to pass from them. "Have you enjoyed yourself here in my home? The nights are quiet in Egypt. I hoped you would rest well, but your eyes are tired," he said.
He reached his hand for mine, and I eyed it shyly, wondering if I would feel the same burst of familiarity I had when I last touched him. A couple of onlookers from the courtyard watched me with dark expressions as Pharaoh offered me his arm, sensing if I took it, it would earn me a dangerous reputation; Pharaoh's harlot.
When I didn't take his arm, Ahmose placed his hand against my back and led me down the hall. His openness comforted me. Pharaoh, King of Egypt, was divine to the people, and no one dared touch him. "I am homesick, wherever that may be," I replied bitterly. I really meant whenever. "But your palace is so beautiful. Everything seems to glimmer." The tiled floor of the corridor looked like polished marble, and the sunlight gleamed off the reflective white surface. Guards and servants bowed deep as they passed by us coming down the corridor. "Pharaoh is the most powerful man in the world."
Ahmose grinned, and the unease that seemed to weigh his features lightened. "Are you impressed by everything in my home?"
"Well," I murmured and glanced at the servant girl trailing behind me. "I don't like having a servant."
He stopped suddenly and glared at her like he wanted to strike her. "You do not like the servant? Has she offended you?"
"Of course not!" I gasped, and jumped in front of the girl to shield her. "She shouldn't be forced to serve me! She is a human being and has rights."
"Rights?" he asked, and blinked incredulously. When I didn't move away from the servant, he offered me his arm in submission. "Please explain what you mean. I want to hear your ideas."
Now, I took his arm and felt his muscles tense beneath my fingers. Was he feeling it again; that sense of familiarity? I felt it too, though not as strong this time. "She has the right to be a human being," I reasoned. "Shouldn't she be treated as such?"
"Do you think she is treated badly in my home?"
I remembered the way the elderly man had treated her, but Pharaoh had been kind to the child. "I don't know Egyptian laws, so I cannot answer honestly if a servant or slave is treated well. Are your servants paid for what they do? They must be able to earn a living to provide for their families," I replied.
He chuckled, "If your concern lies with their families, I can promise you they are well taken care of. They have a safe place to sleep in my house, they are well fed, and they are treated with care when injured or ill. This is how they are paid. It seems like a fair exchange, taking them into my home for their services. Do you disagree?"
He looked at me with his curious eyes, expecting me to counter him with another idea he deemed absurd, I'm sure. "I cannot deny your generosity," I breathed. I glanced at the servant girl as she continued to follow a few paces behind us, wondering if this would have been an occupation she would have chosen for herself had she been a woman of the twenty-first century. And then my stomach grew cold.
Would this be my fate as well? I was an educated woman; I wanted to be a doctor. He was left with the impression I would leave once I could find my way home. But if I had to remain in the ancient past forever, living off of Ahmose's mercy, would I ultimately become his servant?
He sensed my apprehension and lifted his hand to run his fingers along my cheek. But there were worse things that could happen to me besides being stripped of my freedom. "Your Majesty, people will see us," I whispered, the touch of his skin as familiar as a memory from yesterday, and swiftly I glanced around the corridor. "I have never received a tender advance like this from someone who isn't a lover. Aren't you concerned your subjects will believe a relationship exists between us?"
"Would that be such a bad thing?" he breathed.
Afraid he may demand more from me for his hospitality, anger sparked inside me and before I could stop myself, I blurted, "I couldn't be more insulted!" Embarrassed, I covered my mouth as Ahmose scrutinized me. In a gentler tone, I added, "Excuse me, Your Majesty, but have I given you the impression that my body can be bought and sold? I am not a prostitute, and will not be given such an unsavory reputation. I may have wound up in your land, but that does not give you ownership over me. I belong to no man, not even the King of Egypt. I am a human being, just as a man is a human, flesh and blood, equal in every way."
Ahmose's lips parted, and then shifted into a satisfied grin. "I like you," he said, smiling with no offense. "With so much fire in your spirit, you are unlike anyone I have ever encountered. I can clearly see now there are no traces of Minoan in you. Your ideas differ greatly from theirs. You want to be treated reasonably and demand it. And that is why you have my full respect."
I looked away to hide my blushing cheeks, humbled by his honorable manner.
Coming to a pair of grand doors, the fragrances of incense and perfume wafted in the air. He went in first, and I lagged behind to marvel the room. It was grand, almost like a ballroom with great drapes and tapestries and colorful murals decorating the walls. Men and women settled onto large cushions as they shared drinks and exchanged stories. A servant greeted us and offered us drinks. Curiously, I sniffed the contents before tasting it. It left a sweet taste on my tongue; the wine made from the grapes of Pharaoh's own vineyard.
All eyes fell on His Majesty as he entered the room, and a lone group of women rushed to him, beguiling him with flowers. I am not married, he had said. He was Egypt's most eligible bachelor. Being surrounded by beautiful women, he quickly forgot about me. Feeling horribly awkward, I started to back out of the room when an arm suddenly wound around my shoulders. I gazed up into the obsidian eyes of Thutmosis. He watched the spectacle and leaned in to whisper, "Do you enjoy competition?" I glared at him. He didn't appear to have sustained any injuries at all from the flames. The guards must have pulled his clothing off of him in time. At least now he knew I would fight back; I hoped that would make him wary of threatening me.
My stomach churned and he gave a throaty laugh as I scowled at him.
"All the women fawn over him because Pharaoh must have a wife. It is our custom. And he will choose one of them soon," he breathed. "Once that happens, he will have no reason to indulge you anymore."
I jerked away from him. Why was he even telling me this? Trying to make me jealous, I presumed, or maybe threatening me. But I did not care about whom Ahmose would eventually marry, or whatever history had in store for him. I was only concerned about finding my way back to the future.
Thutmosis scowled and reached for me again, but by that time Ahmose had returned to my side and Thutmosis backed off. "Thutmosis," Ahmose said curtly. "What are you doing here?" He placed his hand against my back.
Thutmosis straightened himself and grabbed a chalice from one of the servants. "I live here," he retorted. I glanced up at Ahmose. His grasp on me tightened, but only slightly. I probably wouldn't have even noticed had it not been for the anger that suddenly flashed in his honey colored eyes.
One of the women from the group that had bestowed baskets of lilies to Ahmose came and curled her arms around Thutmosis. He wrapped his arm around her and pressed a kiss to her temple. Possessively, her eyes flared as if to ward me away from him. If she believed I was going to try to steal Thutmosis from her, she was an idiot.
Ahmose led me away from them and to the group of women. "Kara, I want to introduce you to these women. You must get lonely during the days. It might help ease your mind if you form friendships," he said. But as the women sneered at me, I knew they did not see me as a friend or a companion. They saw me as a rival for Pharaoh's favor.
Ahmose made himself comfortable in a golden ornate chair as a servant brought him another drink. One of the women giggled behind me, and I turned to see Thutmosis and his woman join us.
"If you want the women to accept you, you must behave like them. You have a defiant exterior. Prove you can conduct yourself like an Egyptian woman. You can begin by singing for us!" Thutmosis commanded. A servant brought him another chalice as he finished his drink.
The room plunged into silence. All of the lively conversations quickly died and all eyes fell on me.
"That is a wonderful idea," Ahmose agreed. I shot him a panicked glance. He watched me with meek curiosity. "In Egypt, music is a favorite pastime. Will you sing for us?" Ahmose's tone was gentle and encouraging. I glanced around the room and met the expectant eyes of everyone who watched us. My face felt hotter than ever.
I wasn't against music, but I lacked talent in anything that demanded a performance. I knew if I opened my mouth to sing one note, they would boo me out of the room; maybe even out of the country. "I cannot sing!" I whispered desperately. I glanced at the door and planned to bolt for it if he pressed me to sing anyway. I felt like an animal caught in a trap.
Thutmosis laughed and slurred something to the audience. Then, everyone in the room began to laugh. Humiliated, I fought the tears that threatened to spill from my eyes, refusing to give Thutmosis the satisfaction of defeating me. I looked back and met Ahmose's sympathetic eyes. He hadn't intended to put me in such an embarrassing predicament.
"The foreign Amazon cannot even sing! You're not a real woman!" Thutmosis jeered. The other women sneered and laughed at me.
"I cannot sing, but I can dance!" I blurted. Damn, why had I done that? The room plunged into silence again, and even Thutmosis seemed surprised by my outburst. He scrutinized me while taking a sip of wine.
"Kara?" Ahmose's gentle voice spoke to me. "You do not have to perform if you are uneasy."
I glared at the other women who were not laughing at me anymore but were still watching me with the same scornful expressions. Their envious eyes emboldened me. I tore my gaze from them and met Ahmose's imploring eyes. "I can do this," I replied. "I want to dance."
Ahmose watched me, his hand tapping the golden armrest as he considered what to do. He nodded and clapped his hands, signaling for the musicians. Women holding lyres and flutes entered and settled into chairs on the opposite side of the room. "What kind of dance shall you perform, Kara? At what pace should I tell the musicians to play?"
"I cannot dance alone," I explained. "I must have a partner." I paced the room and peered into the crowd, searching for a young man to flatter with an invitation to dance with me. Among the men, most were handsome, desirable, and the women next to them latched onto them whenever my eyes fell on them. They were possessive, territorial.
I shot another glare at the group of vile women who had laughed at me moments before, and lifted my chin as I approached Pharaoh. I stretched my hand to him and asked, "Will you dance with me?"
Some of them huffed at my boldness, scoffed now that I was moving in on Ahmose. I had no flowers to entice him with, but I offered my hand to him, hoping he would take it. He glanced past me at the expecting crowd and then at my waiting hand. "It would be an honor," he replied, taking my hand, allowing me to pull him from his chair. Together we walked onto the dance floor.
When we were in the center of the room, I turned to face him, growing closer to him than I had ever been. He seemed almost startled, not anticipating he would have to wrap his arms around me. I was very nervous having the entire crowd watching me, especially when they gasped as I placed my hand inside of Pharaoh's. With his arm around my waist, and mine around his shoulder, we were positioned in a standard waltz.
The room was so quiet. Everyone appeared awestruck as their mouths hung agape. We hadn't even begun dancing; we merely stood there with our arms around each other.
"Already this dance is strange," Ahmose whispered. "We do not dance like this in Egypt."
"I am not Egyptian," I replied. It seemed scandalous all of a sudden, being so close to Pharaoh with so many witnesses around us. "Have you changed your mind? Do you not want to dance after all?"
His smile rose from his lips to his eyes. "I want to dance with you," he confirmed, his arm remaining secure around me.
"Please tell the musicians to play a slowly paced tune with a soft melody," I said. Everyone listened as Pharaoh instructed the musicians, and they began to play. I started to move, but Ahmose hesitated, unsure of what to do. "Just follow my lead," I advised, and he began to move with me.
He staggered only a couple of times, and soon we were maneuvering together flawlessly, perfectly in sync with each other.
And then everything around us seemed to vanish. I was no longer aware of the probing eyes of the audience, or even the music that echoed through the room. I was suddenly swept away by the lulling sensation that I had been here before, and this wasn't the first time Ahmose had held me in his arms. What was this déjà vu that haunted me? Though I was awake, it felt like a dream because I knew it was impossible. I had never met Ahmose before. I had never stood in this room before now. It only felt familiar because of Father's work in Egyptology...
But if Father was the cause for this sense of familiarity, why did Ahmose also feel it? I could see in his amber eyes as he gazed down at me that he was also trying to recall a previous encounter with me before we met on the streets of Thebes. But there was none to remember; we had never met before.
And then I stopped dancing. The second I released Ahmose's hand, the world came tumbling back into place, and I suddenly became aware of the audience once again. Ahmose noticed them too as we stood awkwardly in the center of the room. They began to whisper, murmur amongst each other, wondering why we had stopped so abruptly.
Then Ahmose clapped his hands to applaud me. It was a great distraction, and the others too began to applaud and cheer.
The musicians began to play a different melody, and people began to crowd the dance floor. Ahmose took my hand and led me away from the crowd. "That was a nice experience. I really enjoyed dancing," he spoke loudly over the crowd. My heart was racing.
Another chair had been placed next to his, and he invited me to sit next to him. We watched the crowd as they danced, attempting to mimic what we had done, their voices plummeting into low murmurs.
I noticed Ahmose watching the group of women entertain Thutmosis, who was sprawled out on scarlet pillows. They surrounded him, giggling as he placed a blossom in each of their hairs. One of them tossed her hair over her shoulder as she glanced back at Ahmose. She lifted her hand and waved her fingers at him. He waved back, acknowledging her.
"She...seems lovely," I said, swallowing the knot that formed in my throat. Ahmose turned back to me. His demeanor had changed completely. He looked rigid and pastel, his smile long gone, as if it had never been there.
Ahmose leaned in to whisper to me, "Will you take a walk with me? I want to show you the rest of my home." My heart pounded excitedly. I had wanted to explore his home for days now, but had hesitated, afraid of breaching my boundaries with him. He may have seemed familiar to me, but I had to keep in mind I was a stranger to him.
But whether or not he truly wanted to show me around was impossible to tell because he seemed desperate to leave the room. He didn't even wait for an answer. He rose from his chair and strode away, passing through the drapes that led to the corridor. I quickly followed after him, afraid he wouldn't wait for me.
We passed into a corridor winding through the other wing of the palace. It became quiet as fewer servants and guards paced the hall in the direction we were headed. And then we were alone. "This is my private wing. No one else comes here," he said. His tone changed, and his demeanor became even more somber.
"Are you sure it is all right for me to come here?" I asked, worried I was imposing.
He half-smiled, "It is all right." Whatever had suddenly upset him, I didn't seem to be at fault. I sighed in relief.
I could hear the wind rustling through the branches of the cedar trees as we passed by the garden. Ceramic vases full of blossoms lined the hedges, and pinholes of sunlight peeked in through the canopy. The white lilies growing on a nearby vine basked in the daylight. Running my fingers along their soft petals, I said, "They remind me of the flowers in my cousin Patricia's bouquet when she got married. She had carried a bouquet of white flowers just like these."
Ahmose came to the vine and reached out to touch the same flower. "Marriage," he murmured. Then he dropped his hand. He fell into a pensive state and wandered to the balustrade and peered out over the city. He sighed.
"Pharaoh," I spoke softly. I joined him on the balcony. The balustrade beneath my fingers felt hot from exposure to the desert sun. In my periphery, Ahmose's profile glowed under the golden light, a perfect statue unveiled for the world to marvel. His jaw slacked as he gazed out over Thebes, shifting his amber eyes to watch the horizon. "You seem distracted. Do you have something on your mind?"
He glanced down at his fingers as he grasped the marble rail. "Pharaoh's mind is always wracked with worry and guilt," he murmured.
His shoulders were heavy under an invisible weight. We were all alone; no other voice could be heard, no one else was in sight. Ahmose had no one to unload his burdens to. "I think Pharaoh just needs someone to listen to his troubles," I said.
Softly, he laughed, "Everyone listens to me. Pharaoh's words are never ignored."
"But do they hear you?" I asked. "When you speak, do they understand all you have to say? Do they understand the burden Pharaoh carries?"
Ahmose examined me, regarding my words with great consideration. "No," he sighed. "No one understands the weight I must carry with this crown. It is my duty to ensure Egypt's wellbeing, to establish a stable and enduring bloodline. In order to attain my responsibility, I must remarry."
Remarry. He had been married once before. I had only been here a few days and hardly knew anything about his personal life. I wanted so badly to get to know him, but I didn't want to invade his privacy by asking intrusive questions. I wondered about the girl in the ballroom. There had been something in the way he had watched her, something that had seemed almost sad. Was she his love interest, capturing his heart while he watched her from afar?
Though my relationship with him had existed only in my dreams, watching him now as he loved someone else was unbearable.
His countenance changed once again as he leaned on his elbows on the balustrade. "I stall as much as I can, delay the wedding for as long as possible. But I cannot hesitate any longer. I must remarry soon. I have considered many women, different women who are the same in so many ways. They are eager...eager to jump in my bed, each of them."
"And you don't like this?" I retorted, turning away to watch the horizon. Having to choose a bride from so many beautiful young women hardly seemed like a dilemma. In fact, compared to the hungry children on the streets of Thebes, he seemed selfish. When I turned back to him, he regarded me with dark eyes.
"Their desperation to get close to me makes me suspicious of them," he explained.
"Suspicious?" I echoed. He didn't trust them. This made my stomach twist. I recalled Father's theories...the murder conspiracy he believed had led to Ahmose's demise. "Pharaoh should not marry someone he cannot trust." Maybe I could convince him to stall a bit longer...maybe it would save his life. But it would also change history.
"There are other reasons that make me wary of them," he added. "None of them will admit it, but I suspect they are also seeing Thutmosis. He thinks I am a fool...that I would not notice...but I see the way he watches them from a distance. The lustful glint in his eyes when he passes them...I know he has had them. Truthfully, I doubt there is a woman in Egypt who has not been in the throes of his bed."
"He hasn't been with every woman," I reminded.
Ahmose's lips lifted into a smile. "That is true," he said. "You resisted him."
"Do you love any of them?"
He fell quiet. It was strange, seeing the mixture of erratic emotions on his face; feeling something. He was thought to be the divine law of the land, but he was nothing more than a human. "I don't understand what love is," he answered finally. "Perhaps no...I do not love any of them. But I don't have to fall in love with them. It just has to be convenient."
Ahmose's expression shifted, and he appeared lost again, swept away in the tumult tides that brought him turmoil. I was also lost in those dark waters, wading to a shore that seemed so far away. I placed my hand on his on the balustrade as I swallowed the knot in my neck. He watched my fingers. "It would be cruel to force yourself into something you are not ready for. You are a strong young man. You have your entire life ahead of you. It would be senseless to rush into a marriage when there is so much time for that later. You should enjoy being free."
He laughed softly. "I am not free."
A set of footfalls from the end of the room slapped the tiled floor as a guard ran up to us. He was panting heavily and sweat covered his brows. He handed a letter to Ahmose and as soon as he broke the seal, he went rigid beside me. His eyes scanned the parchment, quietly reading the grim news. The softness vanished from his expression, and the anxiousness from earlier returned to his features. He crumpled the parchment in his fist, and his other hand went to the sheathed sword at his side.
"Your Majesty, is something wrong?" I asked.
He whispered so only I could hear. "My scout has sent news from the border of Syria. There is another rebellion near Canaan."
The Syrians were a group of nomads that inhabited the lands above Israel and Palestine and caused problems in the Near East over the course of its history.
"Damn the Syrians and their allies," he muttered. "I had anticipated this would happen after we initiated a senseless war over Canaan. They believe Pharaoh is a ruthless tyrant who wishes to conquer the world. But Mother wanted to reclaim territories that had once belonged to our ancestors." Ahmose spoke more to himself than me.
The Battle of Canaan had been a major war in which Thutmosis had assembled an army of nearly twenty thousand men to face the Syrians. Ahmose mentioned his mother who, according to Father's theories, was the greatest female Pharaoh of Egypt, Hatshepsut. I wondered what she had to do with the war over Canaan. My stomach felt cold. I had only been here a few days, and history was already changing.
Ahmose motioned to the guard, and he came to stand by my side. Now that he had stopped panting and straightened up, I recognized him from the other day. He was one of the men that often accompanied Thutmosis. "The Syrians are so vengeful they may even attempt to slip their own men inside Pharaoh's house. I don't want to frighten you or cause a senseless panic, so please keep these details to yourself until I am certain everything is under control. This guard is assigned to you in the meantime. He is under my orders to protect you. Do not leave his sight," Ahmose said, his tone cautioning of danger. I wanted to protest, but Ahmose left the garden immediately, placing Pharaoh's burden back onto his shoulders.