Chapter Twenty

Tutankhamun awakened to the cold, uncomfortable sense that he was being watched. The feeling was completely incongruent with the comforting warmth that pervaded him at being pressed against Suhad's naked flesh and surrounded by her scent. That a chill of foreboding should strike him when he was at his most content was baffling and it was that striking contrast that compelled him to open his eyes.

Frowning deeply, he blinked in the weak, morning light, confused and stunned to find an ashen and disheveled Ankhesenamun standing next to his bed and glaring down at him silently with an expression that could only be described as malevolent hatred. He recoiled from her, his first instinct to ensure that a sleeping Suhad was decently covered and undisturbed before he addressed his errant sister. After he had secured the blankets more securely about his hips in a bid for modesty, Tutankhamun croaked her name in an incredulous whisper.

"What...What are you doing here?" he rasped, "You should be resting."

Ankhesenamun flicked a brief look towards Suhad before glowering at him with a betrayed expression. "How could you do this to me?" she hissed before turning on her heel and fleeing from the chamber.

Left with little choice in the matter, Tutankhamun quickly shook off the last remaining vestiges of sleep and deftly slid from the bed, careful not to awaken Suhad as he did. He shrugged into the robe he had discarded the night before and took off after Ankhesenamun. He managed to catch up with her purposeful strides only seconds before she could disappear into the inner sanctum of her chambers.

When she would not yield to his repeated commands to stop, Tutankhamun stretched out his hand to grab hold of her arm in hopes of waylaying her retreat. The instant he did, Ankhesenamun ripped away from his grasp and whirled around suddenly to smack him hard across the face. The resulting crack echoed deafeningly through the empty corridors. He was still reeling from the unanticipated blow when she rounded on him with a feral snarl.

"Don't you dare touch me!" she sneered, "You've unimaginable nerve after the tender scene I just witnessed! I'm entirely heartened to know that the loss of our child has not prevented you from slaking your lust with your Mitanni whore, brother!"

While her uninvited intrusion into his bedchamber, physical assault and scathing sarcasm had not provoked his ire, the reproachful words directed at Suhad instantly infuriated him. "You are distraught and grieving the loss of our child," he declared in a tone taut with anger, "so I will make an allowance for your thoughtless words this time! But, if you ever speak of her that way again, I cannot be held responsible for what is done to you following!"

"Are you threatening me?" she gasped incredulously.

"I am merely stating facts. Suhad does not deserve your disrespect and I will not tolerate it."

"I am you wife!"

"She is the one I have chosen!" She winced at the force of his words and Tutankhamun found himself softening his tone in response to her anguished dismay. "I do not wish to be harsh with you, but... This cannot continue. You must find a way to accept her, Ankhesenamun. She is here. She is a part of me. That will not change."

"Of course, I am the one expected to make allowances for her...a common village girl from Amurru," his sister sniffled bitterly, "Is there nothing that baffles you about that ludicrous decree? Why is it that this peasant must be protected and revered at all costs?"

"That, dear sister, is where you continually fall short," Tutankhamun chastised coldly, "Because you simply cannot allow yourself to see past Suhad's social class in order to appreciate her innate worth and abundant goodness. And that is your limitation, not hers."

"And is that what you appreciate about her, brother?" Ankhesenamun goaded, "Is it her worth and goodness that holds you so enthralled?"

"Do not belittle what I feel for her. We both know that Suhad is no mere harem girl."

"How can I forget it when you continue to hand her all that should be rightfully mine without compunction?"

"That is not what I have done! I am simply requesting that you make peace with her. You have made her feel unwelcome since the day she came!"

"You should have never brought her here! She has ruined everything!"

"How so? Where is the ruination? She has given me hope and happiness, something I have not felt in years! Why is that so offensive to you?"

"It was just as Ka did for me, but that did not stop you from stripping him from my life!"

"It is not the same! Ka left me for dead, Ankhesenamun! He betrayed us both! He claimed to be my friend and then he conspired against me to take what was rightfully mine!"

"And what do you imagine she is doing to me?"

He resisted the urge to drag both hands down his face in groaning frustration. "Does it not mean anything to you that she is the reason I breathe today?" Tutankhamun uttered shortly, "You say that you never wished me dead, that you grieved for me endlessly when you believed me so and yet you resent the very person who brought me back to you!"

"She didn't bring you back. She stole you from me...like she has stolen everything of mine from the moment she came."

"That is not true," he reiterated for a second time, "I am still here, sister. I have not abandoned you or betrayed you. I will never do so."

Ankhesenamun waved her hand in dismissal of that heartfelt avowal, turning her back to him as she fought back the fresh tears that welled in her eyes. "Do not pretend that she is here merely to fulfill some debt of gratitude. You are going to give her everything that is mine...and we both know it." She angled a disheartened glance at him over her shoulder. "So let us put away the pretense, shall we, brother?"

Rather than deny the statement, Tutankhamun slumped forward and asked with a heavy sigh of resignation, "What would you have me do, Ankhesenamun? She is...she is my heart. I did not go off in search of her. The gods set us on this path."

"Do not speak to me about her presence being the will of the gods!" Ankhesenamun spat, "I do not believe it!"

"I do," he replied softly, "I have almost since the moment I met her. There was no reason for Suhad and I to ever find each other again and yet we did. I cannot believe that was coincidence!" Ankhesenamun scoffed at the reasoning while Tutankhamun prepared to grant her with the candor she had requested. He paused in a brief flash of dread, knowing that his next words to her would only inflict further hurt. "You should be aware that Suhad and I...she is with my child, Ankhesenamun. We are going to have a son."

The news wasn't a revelation to Ankhesenamun at all and yet hearing Tutankhamun say the words aloud was like a burning hot blade slicing through her gut. Perhaps it was due to her own loss which was still so fresh in her heart and mind or because her greatest enemy should be blessed with the one thing she could never attain but, at that moment, Ankhesenamun had never felt more alone in her life...or more desperate. She actually doubled over and emitted a low keening sound as if in physical pain. Tutankhamun flinched, wanting to comfort her yet recognizing she would reject any overture towards tenderness coming from him.

"I wanted you to hear the news from me first," he whispered.

"Forgive me if I fail to offer you my congratulations at this time, brother," she replied dully.

"I cannot imagine the pain you are feeling to receive this news so soon after your own loss, but I thought it best that I tell you truth rather than you hearing the news secondhand."

"Does it really matter?" she wept brokenly, "The pain is the same..."

"I know your outlook seems bleak at the moment, however... Perhaps...perhaps, we should try and see the advantage in this situation. Perhaps, all that has happened is merely the will of the go-,"

She whipped to face him with an angry snarl, her tearful anguish dissipated within seconds and replaced with righteous fury. "Do not dare speak to me about the will of the gods again! Should I be comforted to know it was their will that my child die while Suhad's lives and thrives? Curse the gods and curse you, Tutankhamun! Is it truly their will that you continue to gain while I continue to bleed? What have you lost? What sacrifices have you made?" She doubled over again, her slim frame wracked with violent sobs. "Why am I continually being punished for my missteps? Have I not begged for their forgiveness over and over? When will this hemorrhaging stop?"

"I do not know, my sister. Were it in my power to ease your pain, I would do it."

Ankhesenamun choked out an embittered laugh. "No, you would not. Because the one thing for which I have continually asked, you have adamantly refused." She whisked away the tears staining her cheeks, her demeanor becoming defeated and haunted once more. "But perhaps this is no less than what I deserve. Perhaps you were right in your accusations then, brother," she uttered thickly, "I did betray you. I have lied to you and I have been disloyal to you and derelict in my duty as both your sister and your queen. And I must pay for that...and pay...and pay...and pay... I don't know that I will ever be happy again."

Tutankhamun was not left unmoved by her tears and abject sadness and he could no longer push down the instinctive need to comfort her. He reached out to stroke her heaving back, feeling her pain right then as if it were his own. Tutankhamun could well empathize with her plight because, at one time, he'd held similar feelings once himself. But Suhad had changed all of that and he had faith that Ankhesenamun's feelings could be changed as well. He told her as much.

"You will be happy again, sister. In fact, this may well be our opportunity to start anew."

She lifted vacant brown eyes in a wary stare. "Start anew?" she echoed in a hollow tone, "What do you mean?"

"You and I have never been given the chance to be proper siblings," he reasoned, "We've always been constrained by the traditions of our ancestors. But what if they were wrong? What if we were meant for something else, something far greater? We can choose for ourselves, Ankhesenpaaten."

His deliberate use of her childhood name, a name that had been meant to pay tribute to the god Aten, was not lost on her. It was a clear sign that he was ready to break away from the customs, both traditional and religious, that had long constrained them. He was ready and willing to tread a new path altogether, clearly prepared to forge his own. The very thought frightened Ankhesenamun and left her shaken.

"Be careful that you do not blaspheme, brother. Do not follow in our father's footsteps."

"How can it be blasphemy when the gods themselves have set these events in motion? We must look at the facts, sister. You and I have been unable to produce a living heir in all these years, despite ardent prayers and constant effort. The gods have ignored our requests again and again and yet they allowed Suhad to find me and heal me, my body and my spirit. She changed me profoundly. And now she will become mother to my son. If that is not the will of the gods then I do not know what is."

Ankhesenamun raised her chin to a haughty angle even as tears streamed unchecked down her cheeks. "How fortunate for you that you have found favor in their eyes even as you boldly question all they have had laid in place for hundreds of years before your birth," she managed brokenly, "While, despite my continued faith, it seems that I have incited only their scorn and endless displeasure."

He lost his internal battle against keeping a tentative distance and pulled her into his arms, cradling her to him and stroking her stiffened back. Though it took several moments, she finally relaxed enough to accept his gesture of comfort. She bunched her fingers into his robe and sobbed raggedly into his chest, craving the emotional stability he provided for her even while she despised herself for needing him at all.

"It does not please me to see you in agony, sister," he murmured against her temple, "I do not wish to cause you more pain."

"Can you not see that it is your desire to replace me that causes me pain?"

Tutankhamun framed her face in his hands, drawing her eyes to his. "I am not replacing you, Ankhesenamun. I could never do that. I love you. You are my sister. Your blood runs through my veins. You once knew me better than all others. You know in your heart that I would never leave you unprotected. This is our opportunity to build something new...something better than what we had before."

She shrugged out of his hold, refusing to be cajoled by his words. "You would really forsake the will of our ancestors for this one girl?"

"I would do anything for her," he whispered, "Surely you can relate to that. But this is not only for her. This is truly for your benefit as well, even if, for the moment, you cannot see it."

"I don't begrudge your happiness but I cannot agree with the choices you are making, brother. I fear you are walking the same path our father tread and, in doing so, you are securing your own doom. Please, reconsider your actions."

"Our father's failure was that he eventually began to seek his own glory and not that of his people. He alienated and subjugated them with his religion, rather than freeing them and bringing them closer to the gods. That is not my aim. I want to increase Egypt's glory. I want to protect her. And I want to make the gods accessible to all. If you cannot agree with my decisions can you not, at least, trust my judgment? I act in both of our interests, not just my own."

"I am trying to believe that."

"It will be a transition for you, I realize, but I truly believe in the end you will be happier. You will gain freedom like you have never known. And you will love again, Ankhesenamun, and be free to choose when you do."

"Does she put these fanciful notions in your head?"

His lips quirked in a bittersweet smile. "She's helped me to imagine the possibilities. You could come to like her, if you let yourself. She might even become like a sister to you." He leaned forward and pressed a sound kiss to the furrow between her brow. "Think about what I've said, at least."

She watched him walk away with glittering eyes, torn between leaping anger and anguished defeat at his parting words. She was not at all surprised when Vizier Ay emerged from the shadows just beyond the pillars behind her just as Tutankhamun disappeared down the corridor. "How long have you been lurking there, Ay?" she asked without any real interest.

"Long enough to discern that you are on the verge of losing everything, my queen," Ay replied bluntly.

"And what is to be done about it? He loves her. You heard him. He believes the gods themselves have approved their union. How can I oppose divinity?"

"What the Pharaoh believes and what is reality are two separate things. The battle is not finished. He hasn't made her his queen...not yet. That title still belongs to you for the moment."

"Which means what exactly?"

"That you must act quickly and prudently," Ay prompted in a fierce under-breath, "You cannot mean to give in without a fight, can you?"

"I am tired of fighting, Ay. Ka is gone. Herit is gone. My son is gone. My brother has made his choice and she is soon to bear his child. What is left?"

"Your grandfather's legacy. Will you let that be chiseled from history so easily?"

"What would you have me do, Ay?" Ankhesenamun demanded through clenched teeth, "He has set his mind and there is no changing it!"

"Then it would be to your advantage to acquaint yourself with your enemy's weakness. Do so and you will place yourself in a position of power. Afterwards, you need only wait for the opportunity to make your move," Ay advised softly, "The Pharaoh himself has given you the means to do so."

"What are you scheming now, Ay? Did you not get your fill of that when you tried to maneuver me into marrying you over Ka?"

"And perhaps if you had done so, my queen, Ka might have lived."

"Or perhaps Tutankhamun would have done away with you instead," Ankhesenamun snapped in challenge. When she was satisfied that she had reminded the emboldened vizier of his place, the young queen inclined her head in thoughtful acquiesce. "Go on then," she invited, "Speak freely."

"Why not do as the Pharaoh suggested to you and befriend Suhad?"

Ankhesenamun grimaced in distaste. "And why ever would I do such a thing?"

"To gain her trust, my queen. The greatest enemy a man can have is the one he cannot see coming."

Although it galled her to do so, Ankhesenamun decided to employ the vizier's advice at her earliest convenience. She waited a few days, until she was sure that she could make an offer of friendship with some modicum of sincerity before she approached Suhad one morning during her regular constitutionals through the garden. After taking a few moments to compose herself, Ankhesenamun fell into step beside Suhad with a demure smile.

"Has my brother managed to convince you that fresh air and sunlight are the cure for all that ails you?"

Her guard raised by Ankhesenamun's sudden appearance, Suhad appraised the queen with a wary, sideways glance but answered her question nonetheless. "I must admit that it has its merits." She continued to survey Ankhesenamun with speculative eyes as they walked along. "Is there something you require of me, my queen?" she asked tentatively.

"I think we both know that title is mere formality now. You should address me informally as Ankhesenamun from this day forth. After all, we are to be sisters."

Suhad stumbled to a halt and blinked at her in mounting incredulity. "I...I beg your pardon."

Ankhesenamun abruptly stopped short and swung round to face Suhad directly. "I wish for there to be peace between us. Is that possible?"

"Peace?"

"Yes, peace. Surely you are aware that my brother intends to make you his queen. Likely soon after the Mitanni threat has been neutralized."

"Oh, so he has informed you of his plans then," Suhad breathed softly as the possible reason for Ankhesenamun's strange behavior began to dawn on her. "If it is your fear that I will act in cruelty against you once I am made queen, allow me to ease your mind on that score. I bear you no ill will."

"Even after all I have said and done to you?"

"You felt threatened," Suhad reasoned magnanimously, "and you have suffered unbearable losses. I've tried to empathize with your position. I cannot imagine that my presence here has been easy for you to bear. I have had equal difficulty with accepting your place in Tutankhamun's life."

"We are both guilty of envying the other," Ankhesenamun acknowledged, "However, now that my greatest fear has come to fruition, I must find a way to turn these circumstances to my advantage."

"I do not wish to be counted as someone you must tolerate or fear, for that matter. I can agree to your bid for peace and I am willing to give you the benefit of the doubt but I will countenance no threats against my child."

"You carry my brother's heir. Tutankhamun is my blood, therefore, his child is my blood also. You have nothing to fear from me."

"And you have nothing to fear from me," Suhad returned smoothly, "We can leave matters as they are."

"That is not so easily resolved. It is not enough to simply declare peace. We cannot continue on mistrustful and wary of one another, Suhad. It would cause Tutankhamun unnecessary distress. He wishes for us to become friends. I love my brother dearly and I do not wish to deny him. I would not see him hurt for all the world."

"Neither would I."

"Then we have that common foundation between us. Perhaps we can use it to set aside our differences so that we might act in the best interests of this kingdom."

Suhad did not have an immediate response to that statement. She was too busy reeling from Ankhesenamun's unprecedented offer, not just for peace, but friendship as well. While she was sure that the queen's motivations were mostly born out of a sense of self-preservation, Suhad could not discount that she was, at least, sincere in her desire not to cause Tutankhamun further pain. For all her faults, Suhad did not doubt that Ankhesenamun truly loved her brother...as he loved her in return.

"Yes. I should like for us to put our differences aside and come to know one another better, if possible," Suhad replied after a thoughtful pause, "I know nothing of what it means to be queen or what obligations are entailed for holding such a lofty position. I would appreciate any assistance you might provide in that regard."

Ankhesenamun linked her arm with Suhad's to resume their walk, bending her head forward to conceal her triumphant smirk behind the falling curtain of her long, dark hair. "Of course," she murmured, "However, I may be of support to you."