Seven
I wasn't the kind of person who typically eavesdropped, but my fears led me to such curt measures, spying into the chamber from behind a column like a masked assailant. It was dark, the most dangerous hour of the day, after twilight had long fallen and the corridors were shadowy passages lighted by flickering lanterns.
Within the chamber, Ahmose brooded behind a wooden desk gilded in gold and ivory, his eyes as dark and sullen as the evening itself. He leaned over a pile scrolls, dark brows creased in frustration, focusing so intensely on them, I worried he would set them aflame. Something was tearing him in half, like lampreys tugging at a carcass, and when Thutmosis loomed over his shoulder, I realized he was the culprit.
He lingered over Ahmose like some pestering disease, and three other men watched nearby, their anxious eyes foreboding the disaster that was to come. Each of their faces was stern and harsh, trying to mask the conflict that tormented them so obviously. They were Ahmose's generals, standing idly by as Pharaoh and Thutmosis bickered in Latin.
They wanted to hide something not only from the generals, but from anyone who could be listening close by. Something must have been terribly wrong. I tried to listen closer, but their voices were hushed and difficult to hear. Ahmose was in a terrible temperament now, and I wondered if he would be angry with me for ditching the guard he assigned me.
After dinner this evening, I noticed Ahmose wandering the halls, pacing like a caged panther. So I snuck away from the guard and followed him to this chamber.
Peeking around the column, I saw the generals remained nearby, waiting for some kind of response from Ahmose and Thutmosis, who were still talking in low voices. Ahmose scrutinized the scroll and Thutmosis, leaning over his shoulder, traced something on it with his finger.
My hand went to my satchel, and quietly, I recalled its contents in my head. I had packed lightly that morning I was supposed to go to Luxor with Clair. I only brought what I thought would be essential: one of Father's journals, a ball point pen, a bottle of water, a granola bar, a vial of anti-venom and a syringe, my cell phone, and a tube of pepper spray.
When Thutmosis wasn't arguing with Ahmose, he would disappear to the edge of the chamber so he could watch the corridor. I was afraid he would see me so I sauntered into the shadows and hid behind a column farther away. He went back to the table agitated, and spoke louder now.
"Your Majesty, something must be done to stop these rebels! Chaos is erupting all along the Fertile Crescent, and the chiefs of Canaan who were once our allies have now united against us. They attacked our grain ships in Giza, have stolen countless riches from Egyptian merchants, and have even taken hostages! They are a band of ruthless scoundrels! We should march to Megiddo and snuff them out before they grow strong enough to come here and take us by surprise!" Thutmosis was fuming.
"We wouldn't have this crisis if you and Mother had heeded my warning," Ahmose retorted. "We were at peace. It was senseless to initiate a futile war with the Syrians. Consequently, Egypt was given a cruel reputation by the Canaanites, who refuse to serve us, claiming the great Pharaoh of Egypt is a merciless tyrant." They were discussing a very dangerous topic. The generals were already on edge from their squabble, but with whom did their loyalties lie? Would they resent Ahmose for disapproving of their conquest, or Thutmosis for doubting Pharaoh?
"Futile?" Thutmosis snapped. "Canaan belonged to our ancestors, and the Canaanites took it from us! It was within our right to reclaim what was already ours!"
"Nevertheless, we should have waited for cause," Ahmose argued. "You may be a brilliant strategist, but you lack control with the people. We lost a lot of men during that battle because upon our victory, they plundered the dead and the remaining rebels took them by surprise. The army is worn! We won't survive another war in Canaan! We should let the prisoners go."
Thutmosis backed away, rage rolling off of him in waves. His onyx eyes glinted, revealing the darkness that boiled within his soul. If Thutmosis was the strategist behind the success of Egypt, then what part of the battle did Hatshepsut partake? This battle should have taken place after her death under Thutmosis' reign.
Thutmosis wasn't pharaoh! That was the significant difference that baffled me. When Hatshepsut passed away, her crown had passed to Ahmose instead of Thutmosis, who was the eldest son of their father. The differences in the history of this time were monumental compared to the way it was known in the twenty-first century. Would Ahmose's death cause this enormous mix up?
Something reached from the shadows and grasped my shoulder, causing me to spin around and nearly shriek into the darkness. I bit my tongue to keep quiet, but the violent pounding of my heart was as loud as a bass drum. I glared at my guard when he held a lantern up and scattered the shadows like grain in the wind. In his other arm he cradled a silver platter. I wanted pummel him for startling me so badly, and for the way his lips spread into a curt grin. He said nothing and reached the platter to me.
I took it from him with both arms, and nearly dropped it when Thutmosis' feral voice demanded, "Who is there?"
I shot a panicked glare at the guard, wondering what to do now. He motioned for me to go into the chamber. My heart grew cold and rigid like a heavy stone. The last thing I wanted to do was go in there when Ahmose was so tense. And being near Thutmosis was even more horrible. Whenever he entered a room, it felt as if an invisible brick wall was in place.
Impatient, Thutmosis shouted, "Reveal yourself at once or I'll have you flogged!" He must have suspected I was near because he shouted in Latin.
The guard glared at me and shoved me inside. Clumsily, I came from around the corner, jostling the dinner platter in my arms. I felt the weight shift as something inside coiled treacherously. The feeling that settled in my stomach as I held the platter was more frightening and dreadful than what lay inside. The weight suddenly shifted again, and its sinful perception became almost too heavy to bear.
"So we have a spy?" Thutmosis sneered. I turned around and found all of their eyes on me, Thutmosis' angrier than the others.
Ahmose's expression eased immediately when he noticed the platter in my arms. "Have you forgotten it is dinnertime?" he snapped, glowering at Thutmosis. He waved his hand for me to come in.
Thutmosis stood with his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes smoldering like hot coals, making the short walk to Ahmose's desk seem dreadfully long. The eyes of the generals fell on me next, their gazes crude and unwelcoming.
Ahmose, behind a pile of scrolls, smiled at me, his golden eyes as warm as firelight. His lips curled into a smile so tender, I could almost taste its sweetness on my lips. I suddenly forgot everything else as I gazed into his eyes, entrapped by their burnished color. "Forgive me," I murmured. I wanted to apologize for intruding, but the weight in the platter shifted again, and I realized there was something more I needed to be sorry for. I cradled treachery in my arms and I had come to deliver it to him. "I was instructed to bring this to you," I explained.
I could dump it on the floor. Feign an accident, slip on the polished tiles and let the platter tumble out of my arms. I considered what lurked inside from a scorpion to a family of venomous arachnids. But what if I was imagining things, and all that lay inside was a harmless quail cooked to perfection?
Lingering nearby, Thutmosis scowled, and our eyes locked in a heated battle, the hatred between us scorching us like fiery embers.
"Thank you, Kara," Ahmose replied, unnoticing the tension between us. A servant came into the room, and my heart twisted in despair when he took the platter from my arms and placed it on the table before Ahmose with a sparkling chalice of wine.
Ahmose started to reach for the lid. I imagined him lifting it to find a family of arachnids inside, biting his fingers and poisoning his blood with their venom. How could I let him face a gruesome death?
"Wait!" I cried. Startled, he withdrew his hand and glared at me, surprised by my outburst. "Let someone else open it."
"What?" he asked incredulously. Beside him, Thutmosis scoffed.
I wanted Ahmose to trust me. I swallowed the frigid lump in my throat and considered my next words. My stomach churned like a lethal tonic. His amber eyes grew impatient when my silence lingered.
What if this was the night his life was supposed to end? He died from mysterious causes, so betrayal from a dinner platter could have been his demise. Only I was aware of this, and if I didn't interfere, I was as guilty as whoever had planted this evil. I wanted to go home, and if I interfered with history, my world could be changed forever. I was not the only one who depended on my actions here. The lives of Clair, my friends, and everyone I cared about could all be changed by one event.
But as I looked into Ahmose's handsome face, how could I betray him when he had shown me so much kindness and compassion? My eyes felt heavy under tears and Ahmose's countenance faltered.
"Kara?" he said my name gently, almost a whisper.
"His Majesty has a troubled heart this evening," I answered, coming to his desk. "I want to serve you this evening, if you will permit it. Ease yourself, and allow me to lift the lid for you."
It was probably foolish for me to place myself in this kind of danger, but I was anticipating it. Upon lifting the lid to reveal what lay inside, I could move myself out of the way at the last minute and evade harm.
It moved again, quietly brushing the cool metal of the platter beneath my hands. Gasping, I moved away from it.
"This is ridiculous," Thutmosis snickered. "This foolish woman is as jittery as a wet cat! She will probably spill it on you, Majesty." The generals began to laugh along with Thutmosis, and I began to feel more embarrassed than I had ever felt in my life. Ahmose glared at them and they silenced immediately.
"I believe there's something inside," I whispered. Thutmosis' eyes shot at me in a frightening scowl. Ahmose glanced at Thutmosis, and then back at me.
"What do you mean, Kara?" he asked, sensing the waver in my voice; that I wanted to cry out about the danger that lurked ominously inside.
Ahmose and Thutmosis both watched me, expecting an answer. I wiped my eyes with my fingertips. "I can feel something moving inside," I replied. Ahmose started to reach for it to put his hands on the sides, but I pulled it away from him. "Let me take it away."
"If there is something within my platter that you believe is dangerous, I want to know what it is and who put it there," Ahmose said and motioned for the servant to open it. I cradled it in my arms and refused to give it to him.
"If you must know what is inside, I shall open it for you," I cried.
"Why do you want to open it if it frightens you?" he asked, frustrated now.
"I cannot put an innocent man in danger."
When the servant finally backed away, I released my hold on the platter, and we all watched it suspiciously. I placed my hands on the cool silver, and pulled it closer to me. I grasped the lid, trying to gain the courage to lift it. Ahmose watched the platter as his nervous hand gripped the desk.
But before I could lift the lid, Thutmosis stormed over and shoved me aside. "Get out of the way, you senseless woman!" I flew to the floor with the lid in my hand, skinning my elbows on the polished tiles. I bumped my head on the lid during my plummet.
I felt half-conscious, the thin line between awareness and the black void of oblivion blurred in my tears. Screams pierced my ears as they resounded off the marble walls, cut by a sharp windy hiss and then a crash. Across from me, Ahmose's chair had turned over and he lay in the floor, eyes glazed over, mouthing something to me. He almost looked like a corpse. What was happening?
Thutmosis towered over me, looking down at me with cold, hateful eyes. He shifted his cool gaze to Ahmose, who lay on the floor, immobile. Ahmose never could have predicted what would happen; no one could have.
The generals were now bustling around in a panicked frenzy, and Thutmosis skulked back to his corner to wait for it all to pass, as if nothing concerned him.
Suddenly, a huge cobra slid off the desk and coiled into the floor. I whimpered and crawled away when it shifted its golden eyes to me. Guards stormed into the room, and the cobra popped its head up as they cornered it, flaring its hood and baring its jagged teeth. Its long body looked like a stack of bronze rings, its scales glinting like burnished copper. Its eyes were unforgiving, evil.
Sprawled out on the cool tiles, I reached for Ahmose, and crawling to him, I took his hand. Ahmose winced and grabbed his own arm. Two puncture wounds formed inside his forearm from the snake's bite and were bleeding. I screamed with terror at the realization he had been bitten. His clammy palm grasped mine, and in his eyes I saw fear, confusion, and an underlying sense of betrayal that someone had tried to kill him. Now he understood all that I was unable to tell him, everything history had forgotten. The cobra had been planted with the intention of killing him. History's lost pharaoh was assassinated, just as Father had predicted.
I took his face into my hands and sobbed, "I'm so sorry!"
Ahmose whispered something, and suddenly began thrashing against the floor, crying out as the venom spread through his blood. He writhed in pain, his angelic face twisting in despair. There was so much hysteria and fear in everyone, the palace was in total chaos.
The Egyptian cobra was one of the most venomous snakes in the world. Its venom was made of toxins that attacked the nervous system, almost always resulting in respiratory failure. The area of the bite mark could become necrotic, but the victim would more than likely suffocate before necrosis could spread. Ahmose was suffering greatly.
Thutmosis' manic voice boomed through the room. "Murderer! Murderer!" He pointed at me as guards flooded the room, some flocking to Ahmose, others going after the cobra. They cornered the serpent and chopped off its head. Turning with iron swords in their hands, they sauntered towards me. Thutmosis was blaming me, though Ahmose had not yet died, and the guards were going to kill me for it.
Another guard jumped up and pulled me away from Ahmose. Was everyone suddenly turning against me? The guards near Ahmose were doing nothing but kneeling over him, holding him still as he thrashed against their grips. Why weren't they doing more to help him? But I was still in ancient Egypt, a world where there was no science. They didn't have medicine. It pained them to watch him suffer, and in their eyes, I saw the realization that was dawning on us all. Ahmose only had a couple of hours left to live, and they didn't know how to save him.
But I had to do something. I considered sucking the venom out as the guards that neared me placed the tips of their swords at my throat. The venom was spreading far too rapidly, damaging his tissues. The guards glared at me, seething with anger and hatred, wanting to cut into me with their blades. "Ahmose, help me!" I cried.
One grabbed my satchel and tried to tug it away from me, but I wouldn't let go. Then I remembered one crucial item inside: the vial of anti-venom.
Thutmosis took the sword from the guard in front of me and ran the tip down my throat to the center of my sternum. He caught the edge of my gown and ripped it.
"Stop!" I screamed and tried to pull away, but Thutmosis shifted the blade back to my throat.
In a weak voice, Ahmose murmured something inaudible, and the guards immediately released their grips on me and stepped away. Furious, Thutmosis grabbed my arm and hissed, "The moment Pharaoh breathes his last you will no longer be under his protection, and I will finally get rid of you." He let go and crept back to his corner.
Still alive, Ahmose breathed heavily as he lay on the floor. I went to him and kneeled at his side, touching his cheek with my hand. His face was covered in perspiration, and his eyes were glazed over. "Ahmose," I whispered his name as if it would keep him alive. "Thutmosis wants to kill me! Please, do not die...if you perish, I will as well!"
"Kara," he choked. "No one will harm you. Do not be afraid because I have ensured your safety. I want you to be my heiress. I want my crown to pass to you, and once I have passed away, you will be the new pharaoh."
"What?" I cried.
"That is against the law!" Thutmosis roared.
"All will be as Pharaoh commands," Ahmose breathed, and from the way Thutmosis' onyx eyes suddenly simmered, I saw he knew he was right. He could not challenge Ahmose's orders.
Thutmosis stormed from his corner and shoved the guards aside. "Have you lost what's left of your mind? She tried to kill you tonight! This wicked temptress has enchanted you with her dark magic!"
Thutmosis glared at me more fiercely than ever before. Ahmose's limp hand found mine and clasped my fingers. His bite mark swelled as a guard tried to wipe the blood from it.
I had never forgotten about the anti-venom in my satchel, but I had to consider my options. I could use it to save Ahmose's life or I could let him die anyway, and allow history to take its course. These were my options, and the choice should have been easy.
Ahmose's reign had been very short, but I didn't know why or how his life had ended. If I interfered now, it could change the twenty-first century. It could alter my future or maybe even shift it so far off course my entire existence could be jeopardized.
I would be safe here now if I became Pharaoh, but could I exist here without Ahmose? He had taken me into his home, rescued me from the streets of Thebes, and offered me friendship when everyone else shunned me. How could I possibly let him die?
I took my satchel and dumped its contents out on the floor. Some of the guards grumbled, horrified by my strange objects, but if Ahmose was going to have any chance of surviving this I had to act fast. I found the vial and syringe without trouble, but when my eyes flickered over the warning label on the vial, my stomach twisted in a sickening knot.
The anti-venom was made of horse serum: an extremely dangerous component that elicited an allergic response in many people. If I injected this into Ahmose and he was allergic, he could go into shock and die immediately.
Father always told me to never use it myself, to never gamble such a hefty consequence, unless bitten by something that would kill me in less than a few hours. But to risk Ahmose's life made me hesitate. There were no doctors here, no life support equipment, nothing to keep him alive if that were to happen. But the longer I waited, the farther the venom spread through his blood stream, and the closer he came to death. He would certainly die if I didn't try to do something, or I could inadvertently kill him faster. Maybe Ahmose was supposed to die because of me...because of my interference.
Maybe the anti-venom wouldn't work at all; maybe Ahmose would die anyway, and my future would be unaffected. And as soon as those thoughts flashed in my mind, my heart ached at the thought of losing him. I didn't want him to die. I took the syringe and vial and gazed into his honey brown eyes. He was struggling not to writhe against the pain that wracked his body.
"Murderer!" Thutmosis shouted at me again. "She has more items of dark magic! Keep her away from the pharaoh!"
"Your Majesty, I can help you," I cried. Ahmose's eyes fluttered weakly as he struggled to stay conscious. His cheeks were flushed pink and his forehead was damp with cool sweat as fever began to set it. His tired eyes noticed the syringe and he tried to shift away.
"I can help you," I whispered. "This is going to seem strange, and maybe even frightening, but I need you to trust me." The guards backed away, afraid of the clear contents that swirled in the vial.
I took the syringe with fumbling fingers, the vial nearly slipped out of my shaking hand. I grasped it tightly, to ensure it would not fall, unable to afford a clumsy mistake. Taking the syringe, I stuck it through the vial's rubber top and drew the anti-venom in. I removed the needle from the vial carefully. I looked down into Ahmose's eyes.
"Trust me," I reminded him.
I had to clean the injection site before I stuck him with the syringe. I grabbed his chalice off of the table, and luckily it was still full of wine. It wasn't pure ethyl alcohol, but it was the best antiseptic I had. I poured a little onto Ahmose's arm, waited a few moments, and dried it with the hem of my gown. I was getting dizzy... I was so terrified he would be allergic and die here on the floor.
I drew in a deep breath and placed the needle to Ahmose's skin. He winced when I stuck him and slowly pushed the anti-venom into his arm. When it was over, I removed the needle, and rubbed the injection site gently. I glanced around the room and saw the horror in everyone's eyes. Ahmose's eyes drifted around the room, locking with mine in an intense gaze before closing, and his breathing grew heavier.
All we could do now was wait; wait for him to turn blue and stop breathing, or wait for him to recover.