“My Pharaoh!” Assou had barely dragged himself to the bottom of the few steps up to the throne when he tore Ramesses from the depths of his thoughts. “I bear … notice.”
The deep bow came a little too late, but Ramesses overlooked the flaws in etiquette as well as the condition of his vizier. “Is it about the slaves?”
“No, about the feast.”
Relieved exhalation rolled over Assou as Ramesses sat up straighter and seemed willing to listen. “Speak.”
“The preparations are going as planned and will soon be completed. Furthermore, the honourable parents of the Third Great Royal Queen Maathorneferure have recently arrived. They made the journey in no time.”
“They have already arrived?” The same astonishment that had overcome the tjati settled on the pharaoh’s shoulders.
“They have,” he confirmed. “I was surprised too, but I gave them a room and had the best preparations made.”
“That’s good to know. Allow them to rest and then greet them on my behalf. I will turn to them later this day.”
“As you wish, my Pharaoh.” Once again, Assou bowed deeply to his king before turning on his heel and hurrying out of the room.
His senses carried him straight to his study, the door of which he tore open and slammed shut behind him so quickly that the silence inside overwhelmed him for a moment. Closing his eyes for a breath, he savoured the quiet between the fronts and let the feeling of tension slip over him. It was better than sinking into the questions behind it. Easier, because he still couldn’t place Maged and didn’t know how to deal with this boy. He was a mystery as unsolvable as the stone slab he hadn’t been able to answer.
“Are you planning to stay there, or do you want to have a conversation with me?”
Assou’s eyelids snapped open instantly and his gaze remained fixed on the boy he had left behind. Maged had stretched out his legs and sat down in front of the table, behind which Assou was fulfilling his duties. The restrained smile on his face mocked him, and no matter how the tjati tried to look at the situation, it went right over his head. He spared himself the question of how Maged had found his way into the study so quickly. Still, Assou stared at him a little longer before he finally moved away from the door and leisurely pushed himself behind the table. His eyes always on the boy, he tried to form a picture, to find a gap so as not to look like a poor idiot. But his counterpart was impossible to judge.
“What did you find out?” Instead of taking on an impossible task, Assou tried to cling to facts. Information he needed and wanted to use. They were the only weapon he could wield against Maathorneferure if anything changed for the worse after the festival.
“Oh, a lot!” Maged replied. This time he pushed himself into a different position with a flourish, his legs bent cross-legged. “Mind you, you’ll find most of this out for yourself soon enough, so I’ll save the explanation.” He put a finger to his lips as he lowered his eyelids and grinned. “Aside from that, Sauškanu was a very popular princess in her country.”
“In what way?”
“Well, she was always good to her slaves and even had a favourite among them who always did her hair. It seems to have been a slave who was the only one to realise the life of a princess isn’t always nice.” Maged shrugged his shoulders. “Everyone there described her as extremely kind. A ray of sunshine, gently kissed by Ra and always ready to help when someone was in trouble. The same words were given to me in the palace.”
Assou’s brows had drawn together somewhere in the middle of the report, and the disbelief inside made it hard to find the right words. To think of Maathorneferure being anything other than a beast was hard to imagine. There was nothing about her to make her seem kind or generous – not even a hint of friendliness.
“You’re sure some of them weren’t just lying?”
“Very sure,” replied the messenger. “Nobody has said a single bad word about her. Almost as if they were talking about a completely different person.”
“And what is it you’re not telling me?” Crossing his arms in front of his chest, the tjati tried to make a serious expression. Maged had said it himself. There were things he would find out. Things that would shed some light on the circumstances thrown lovelessly at his feet. But the boy remained silent. Not a single word grew between them and no matter how long he stared at his counterpart, it didn’t get any easier.
“Is that all?” Finally, the vizier gave up.
“All I can say is you’ll like it. You’re definitely guaranteed entertainment in this realm.” Maged shrugged again before pulling himself up and stretching. His thin body barely allowed a rib to stand out. “You’ll find out when the feast has reached its climax at the latest. Until then, I’ll leave it up to you to decide whether you can find out before then or whether you’re just dying of suspense. For my part, I’ll be watching the whole thing from afar.”
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With a dismissive wave of his hand, Maged turned away, and though he had closed the conversation just like that, Assou wasn’t ready to end the possibilities between them like that. He still didn’t have all the answers he wanted, and the little pieces thrown at him weren’t enough for his plans and safety.
So he, too, jumped up to circle the table and grab Maged by the arm before he could reach the door. “Wait!”
“Hands off, maggot.” The words rang out to the vizier even before the boy’s dark, misty gaze reached him. The pressure between them settled heavily on his shoulders and, although he was sure he didn’t want to let go, his fingers detached from the messenger’s arm. The rigidity engulfing his body made every thought clear and yet unable to come out of him. He could only watch as Maged disappeared through the door and the silence became a part of the room once again.
Gradually, the pressure released from his surroundings, freeing his muscles and stripping the motionlessness from his body. His hand, which had been raised, fell powerlessly and when his legs gave way, it was the floor that greeted him with a muffled thud. He fell to his knees, took a deep breath, and cleared his throat a few times, hoping his voice would come back. But the quiet remained.
The muffled whistling sound, which soon after burst into his ears, lasted an eternity. It clung to his senses, to his body and yet at some point, during his motionless breaths, it released him. Only then did Assou pull himself together and shuffle back to his table. His unsteady steps carried him to his seat.
In the end, he hadn’t been able to ask any of the important questions. He didn’t know who this boy was, nor could he say where he came from. All he had left was the certainty that Maged had little in common with a normal person. This boy had made him freeze. His behaviour, his way of defending himself, was anything but the conventional methods occasionally seen among the people.
And suddenly it became easier to believe he had been sent by the gods. Once again, Assou ran his hands over his face and dared to take a breath. There was nothing he could do and even less he could change facing the mysterious messenger. The only thing left for him to do was to fulfil his duties and find out what was being kept from him.
So the tjati pulled to his feet, his eyes fixed on the door that would throw him back into the crowd. A mass that wasn’t there and that he nonetheless believed would pounce on him as soon as he left his room. He wiped his hands on his shendyt several times. The dampness had settled in his pores and, although he tried not to think about it, it took much longer before he slowly pushed his way through the door into the corridor and breathed silence.
The first thing he had to do was greet Maathorneferure’s parents and wish them a pleasant stay in the name of Ramesses. A conventional step that held no challenge, but still fuelled the tension in his body. His stiff shoulders were bound by curiosity, with a slight tremor wanting to push him forward because the answers were right in front of him. If he came face to face with Maathorneferure’s parents, he was sure to find out something.
Every step he took was more energetic than the one before. His legs carried him forward, right to the guest rooms, which were otherwise unused. They lay close to the queens’ chambers. That meant he would encounter Maathorneferure in a worst-case scenario. Despite this, he made his way through the corridors and didn’t stop when two slaves stumbled towards him and gave him a look that combined warning and pity. They were probably being driven through the palace to carry out Maathorneferure’s wild will or to escape her nasty mood. Facing her, anything was possible.
The inviting doors of the guest rooms, surrounded by heavy pilasters, invited a quick look inside. An offer Assou turned down in order to aim for the only closed passageway. His knuckles knocked against the heavy wood, whose ornate decoration of colour and carved tendrils seemed like a gateway to another world. A slave opened it, intent on keeping her head bowed as she turned round and announced the “Vizier of the palace and the right hand of Ramesses”.
Only after her introduction did he enter. With slow, deliberate movements, he made his way in and immediately his eyes were fixed on the old head of Hattušili III and his wife. He had heard a lot about them. They weren’t of high standing for nothing, capable of ruling an empire and making peace with a marriage.
Hattušili III and his wife Puduḫepa had dressed in expensive fabrics he could hardly believe were only made of linen. Besides an animal skin warming the ruler’s shoulders, it was heavy silver adorning his wife’s neck – a woman who possessed little of Maathorneferure’s beauty. Compared to the Great Royal Queen, Puduḫepa was a small woman with shoulder-length brown hair and dark eyes. Her skin was lighter than that of the Egyptians, but her smile seemed crooked and her eyes sunken. What’s more, she was so petite she seemed more fragile than dried leaves next to her husband. She was an unsuitable counterpart to Hattušili, whose firm body showed obvious muscles – but even he was nowhere near the size of Maathorneferure. His forehead shone with sweat and the black hair covering half his face and head shook under the heat of the land.
“Vizier, it is good to see a confidant of Ramesses.” Hattušili patted his chest briefly. “And I must confess, I am delighted you have invited us to this feast to please our daughter. I can see she is in excellent hands here. Your messenger has told us much about this land.”
“I am honoured you have been well entertained. Ramesses is very concerned that Maathorneferure hasn’t yet been blessed by the gods.” Once again, Assou’s eyes travelled over the two people present. “But the palace is sure a piece of home will bring calm to her soul.”
Her parents’ approval circled the room in cheerful recognition. They were both completely different from Maathorneferure. Not even her father, a man who had endured battles like no other, held the same temperament in his eyes as she did. There wasn’t a single resemblance between them, and though Assou would have loved to deny it, it truly seemed as if Sauškanu had been blessed by the gods. She, of all people.