Chapter Twenty-Two

Tutankhamun paused just outside his bedchamber and inhaled an uneven breath.

His last confrontation with the high priest Amun had left him physically and emotionally drained. The tenuous tolerance they had maintained between them since Tutankhamun had begun assuming more power had all but disintegrated following the young pharaoh's revision of the tribute law and it had been on a steady decline ever since. Now, Tutankhamun had further inflamed the high priest's ire by refusing to pay tribute himself even when his nation was clearly in crisis. His refusal, which was nothing less than willful disobedience and arrogance in the high priest's eyes, had gained him yet another enemy.

According to Amun, he was doing a disservice to his people by his headstrong disregard. He was leaving them without needed protection from the gods and setting a dangerous precedent. It was Amun's conviction that the people were suffering the current epidemic due to the fury of the gods and, had tribute been properly paid, perhaps such a grim fate would not have been delivered upon the people. Tutankhamun recoiled from the idea of rendering worship only to escape punishment. How could such a concept endear one to his gods or compel heartfelt worship?

More and more of late, he felt as if his faith was being tested...or shaken altogether. Tutankhamun began to wonder if perhaps his father had been right to question, not only the will of the gods but the rightfulness of their rulership. Perhaps Akhenaten had discerned the corruption within the priesthood during his rule just as Tutankhamun was beginning to see it fully in his own. The pity was that his father had then assumed the very same corruption he had sought to eradicate. Tutankhamun was determined that the same fate would not befall him.

That was the very reason he struggled so mightily with the bleak decision that had been set before him that night. He had vowed to protect and shelter his people even at the cost of his own spilled blood. To give a decree that would sanction the mass slaughter of his own citizens, the very people who had placed their trust in him, was not an easy thing to do. Tutankhamun felt sick with himself and sick at heart. He had idled in the courtyard for hours, praying to the gods for wisdom and peace of mind and, when none came, praying that his affected citizens in the quarantine meet their ends quickly and without undue suffering. Their echoing silence only further weakened his waning faith.

By the end of the night, all he truly wanted was Suhad. While he appreciated the comforting presence Ankhesenamun had offered to him earlier that evening there was no substitute for how effectively Suhad could soothe his weary soul. He needed to lose himself in her warmth and cleanse himself of the dreadful remnants from that heinous day. Yet, as eager as he was to do just that, Tutankhamun couldn't banish the fear that his actions that night had somehow lessened him in Suhad's eyes. Despite the fact that he had the support of his vizier, his advisers and his military commanders in his decision, it was Suhad's opinion that mattered to him above all else. He could be granted rightful justification by all Egypt but if she condemned him then it would all be meaningless.

He stepped inside his inner chamber, desperately yearning for her loving embrace while simultaneously preparing himself for her possible scorn. To his astonishment, he received neither. His bedchamber was empty. Only the rumpled linen atop of his bed attested to the fact that anyone had been there previously at all. Curious over her absence but not yet alarmed, he called out to her, darting about the room tentatively in case she had withdrawn into the privy to relieve her fickle bladder. Upon discovering that was not the case either, he called to one of Suhad's attendants to provide answers.

"Where is your mistress?" he demanded without preamble, "I was told that she was awaiting my arrival here."

"Yes, my lord. But she was summoned to the queen some time ago. I have not seen her since."

His next order of business then was to seek out Ankhesenamun. On his way to her chambers, he was intercepted by Ay, who grimly informed him that the purging was now complete and tomorrow would they could begin the dismal tasks of carting away the bodies of the infected. Tutankhamun assimilated that news with quick nod, deliberately keeping his focus on discovering Suhad's whereabouts. Upon reaching Ankhesenamun's chambers, he half expected to find her and his sister there together engaged in conversation and, perhaps, even laughing together. When he did not, however, and found Ankhesenamun alone instead, Tutankhamun began to grow alarmed. He looked to his sister for an explanation.

"Where is she?"

Ankhesenamun stood and blinked at him with a blank expression. "Where is who?"

"Suhad. I am told that she was summoned to your chambers."

The queen fought the urge to dart a nervous glance in Ay's direction as he came to stand directly behind her brother, though the vizier had enough composure to maintain an impassive facade. "Yes. She was here. Hours ago."

"Why did you summon her?"

"She was distraught and anxious. I did not imagine the stress would be good for the child. I thought to calm her and lift her sprits if I could."

"Why was she distraught?"

"She was preoccupied for the better part of the day with seeing you. I suppose she felt as if you needed her. I reassured her that you would most certainly seek her out once your business had concluded."

"Then why did she not wait? Where did she go after leaving you?"

"I could not tell you. I am not her keeper, brother."

Tutankhamun placed his hands behind his back and leveled her with a probing stare, suspicion prickling at the back of his neck with her defensive tone. "But you do claim to be her friend, do you not? Surely, she mentioned something to you of her plans for the evening."

"She spoke of seeing her parents again," Ankhesenamun prevaricated on the spur, "I suppose with her time so swiftly approaching she has been missing them more and more of late. She was swept from her village with very little time for goodbyes, brother. It has been difficult for her these past months."

"You believe she meant to return to Amurru? Tonight?" Tutankhamun shook his head in dismissal of that idea. "No. That makes absolutely no sense. She is heavy with child. She would never attempt travel at this time and not without informing me or gaining my permission first."

"My lord," the vizier interrupted after clearing his throat discreetly, "if I may respectfully interject, Suhad has a very willful spirit as everyone present is well aware. She has shown her independence in the past and her inclination to act with or without your permission."

Tutankhamun pinned Ay with a warning look. "She would not leave without talking to me first, especially tonight when she knew it was so dangerous. I know this, Ay."

Ankhesenamun was swift to comment, fearful that if Tutankhamun began asking too many questions her plan would unravel even before it could be fully executed. "As I said before, she was distraught earlier...mostly due to the fact that she had learned of your plans for those infected in the city square," she volunteered, "I think she might have been...disillusioned by your choice."

Unwilling and unable to accept the possibility that Suhad might have run from him again and that the secret fear he had been nursing all night might have actual merit, Tutankhamun swiveled around to face the vizier. "Scour this palace at once! Have the Elite Guards search every street in Thebes," he commanded, "Every market. Every temple. Every corner of this city. I want everyone who came into contact with Suhad tonight questioned extensively."

"Yes, my lord," Ay replied, flicking the queen with a cautious glance, "I shall lead the effort myself."

In the interim, Tutankhamun did not remain idle. He immediately sought out Lagus and the two of them worked together to search all corners of the palace while also brainstorming all the possible places Suhad might have gone that night. "Did she seem angry when you last spoke to her?" Tutankhamun prompted Lagus during their search, "Did she give you any impression that she intended to flee or that she was disappointed in me?"

"Not at all," Lagus said, "She was consumed with worry for you. I could barely calm her. She wanted to come to you earlier, but I...I knew you weren't ready to face her. Was I wrong? Should I have made another choice?"

"No, your judgment was sound. I was somewhat...ashamed to face her before."

Intuitively aware of how highly Tutankhamun valued Suhad's opinion, Lagus sought to immediately reassure him. "Suhad well understood the untenable position in which you had been placed tonight, my lord. She did not think less of you."

"Well, there was obviously something weighing upon her mind this evening or we would not be searching for her now. So, the question remains...where did she go tonight...and why?"

Tutankhamun had every intention of accompanying Lagus out on his search of the city when General Horemheb and Ay intercepted them in the corridors with a message of "utmost importance" just as they were about to exit the palace. The news was not good. Apparently, the Mitanni prince meant to pay them a personal visit in only three days time in order to discuss the terms of Egypt's unconditional surrender. That ultimatum from his enemy was last thing Tutankhamun needed after the evening he had endured and broke what remaining spirit he had. Left with little choice in the matter, he sent Lagus off on his own while he stayed behind to talk strategy with his vizier and general.

"The choice is out of our hands now," Ay told him, "War has come to Egypt's threshold and we must make a response, my king."

"The vizier is right," Horemheb said, "If we are right about King Tushratta's numbers, he will likely move his forces out into the open desert where I cannot defeat him. We must prepare what military might we have at our disposal and draw them into our advantage before we lose our window of opportunity."

"The Mitanni will only respect a show of force, my pharaoh," Ay followed up wisely, "We must present to them a strong and invulnerable Egypt."

"That Egypt does not exist at this time, Vizier," Tutankhamun replied in a dull tone, "The disease took so many. The number within the army has dwindled considerably. There are not enough men left alive to conscript into service. We have no force to show them. I fear Egypt may fall to this foreign invader."

"You do not know what you are saying," Ay concluded in a dismissive tone that was part alarmed and part resolved, "You are weary and heartsick after this evening's events. You should rest. Tomorrow we shall all review this situation with refreshed eyes."

"I cannot sleep," the young pharaoh protested, "Not until Suhad is found and I know she is well."

"You cannot mean to keep vigil all night," Ay argued.

Tutankhamun regarded him with dark eyes leaping with fiery determination. "I can and I will. Leave me now. I would be alone with my thoughts."

He spent close to dawn pacing the inner courtyard vacillating between worry over Suhad and agonizing over how he could possibly protect his people from an inevitable Mitanni invasion. There was a good possibly that Suhad had left him and now his kingdom was on the verge of annihilation. For the first time, Tutankhamun found himself questioning whether or not he was truly equipped to lead Egypt as their sovereign ruler. He knew it was his birthright but he did not at all feel it was deserved. How could he possibly provide stability and protection for his people when he lacked the ability to find stability in his own personal life or to protect himself?

Suhad had once posited a similar question to him not long after they'd met and her concern had been valid. Not so much had changed since then, despite all the grand ideas he'd had prior to returning to Thebes. Despondently, Tutankhamun wondered if it would have been better for him to remain in the desert after all, leaving his kingdom under the control of Ka and General Horemheb. Perhaps if he had, Egypt would not be on the verge of collapse and he and Suhad would be married and happily preparing for the birth of their first child. Those nagging doubts continued to plague him even long after he dropped into his throne and fell into a restless sleep.

The sun had just finished its morning ascent when a weary Lagus returned to the palace. After a short stint of searching, he found Tutankhamun out in the palace courtyard, slumped over in his throne in obvious exhaustion. For a brief moment, Lagus regarded him as he slept, noting how much younger than his nineteen years the king appeared as he slumbered. He was almost childlike in a way, innocent...much too innocent and guileless to bear the oppressive burden that was about to befall him. Lagus inwardly lamented the pain his young pharaoh would face. He hesitated to even wake him at all because he recognized that this would likely be the last instance of peace Tutankhamun would know for some time. Lagus dreaded being the one to take that away.

Left without recourse, however, he stretched forward his hand to nudge his sleeping king awake. It took little more than his touch against Tutankhamun's shoulder to rouse the Pharaoh into complete wakefulness. He reared upright and fixed Lagus with wild, worried eyes.

"Has she been found?" he wondered anxiously.

"Yes, my lord. Come with me."

The physician and his attendants were already waiting in his bedchamber and attending to their unconscious patient when Tutankhamun arrived but he barely acknowledged their presence. Instead, his eyes were drawn to dirty, disheveled figure that lay upon his bed. Even beneath the heavy soot and grime and tattered, scorched clothing, Tutankhamun could immediately see that it was Suhad. He rushed to the bedside and carefully swept up her blistered hand, his alarm increasing exponentially when he detected the discordant whistling that sounded every time she expelled a breath. The laborious rise and fall of her chest along with those breaths alerted Tutankhamun to the fact Suhad's condition was not good. The physician confirmed that fear only seconds later.

"She's in grave condition, my lord," the physician informed him sorrowfully, "Each breath for her is a struggle. I have treated her burns, most of which are thankfully superficial, as best I can but her lungs have been severely damaged, scorched from the inside. There is likely much swelling internally. I see very little chance that she will survive."

"What happened to her?" Tutankhamun rasped, his mind fairly reeling with the bleak news he had just been given.

"I found her in the quarantine area," Lagus answered gruffly, "about to be carted off to the pits with the other bodies. I know that her condition is critical but, she survived that terrible night, my lord, despite the fire and the heat and the smoke. Do not discount her strength of will just yet."

"She is strong," the physician agreed, "but the fight ahead of her will be daunting and her body has suffered severe trauma. It may prove to be too much...even for a spirit as unbreakable as her own."

The next words Tutankhamun spoke sounded as if they were being torn from his chest. "And the child?"

"Your child, for the moment, my king, lives."

Tutankhamun placed his hand against Suhad's rounded abdomen, almost sobbing aloud when his child responded with a sharp thump beneath his palm. Perhaps he was merely desperate to cling to some semblance of hope but, for Tutankhamun, that one small kick felt like reassurance. "Then she will live," he determined with tearful insistence, "...for him." He glanced back at Lagus, his grief becoming intermingled with confusion and gathering anger. "Why would she be in the quarantine at all? She would have known better than to go near there!"

"I questioned several guards that were stationed outside of the gates," Lagus said, "They all confirm that Suhad left the palace last night in Sete's company."

"Sete? You speak of Ankhesenamun's personal guard?"

"I do. There is no doubt. He and Suhad were together."

Tutankhamun made a conscious effort to subdue the rioting emotions that burst forth in his heart with that revelation. He wasn't ready to consider the full implications...not yet. "Find him," he commanded, "I want him questioned immediately. And bring Ankhesenamun to me at once!"

"Yes, my lord."

As Lagus withdrew, Tutankhamun turned his attention back to an ailing Suhad. He reached out to caress her smudged cheek with a trembling hand, flinching inwardly at the incredible heat radiating from her body, before addressing the physician once more. "What will you do for her?"

"I will prepare a pumice of eucalyptus, mint, menthol and spice for her chest as well as a steam bath filled with the same concoction. She must be covered from head to toe with linen to insulate her body and we must fill the room with moist, humid air. No one can enter during that time because such an environment would only bring about illness in the healthy."

"What do you hope to accomplish with this, physician?"

"To help rid her body of the toxins that are causing her fever and also increase her capacity for breath as her lungs heal. If she is strong enough, she may yet survive this."

"She is strong enough. Do whatever you must...but make sure she lives."

"You wanted to see me?" Tutankhamun jerked to attention as his sister's entrance. He nodded for the physician to resume his care of Suhad as he stepped down from the dais to meet his sister. As he did, Tutankhamun watched Ankhesenamun's face carefully as she gradually became aware of Suhad lying in the center of his bed. Her features registered shock and dismay but none of the duplicity he was half expecting to find. "Is that Suhad? What happened to her?" Ankhesenamun burst out.

"I was hoping that you might be able to shed some light on that subject," Tutankhamun bit out.

Ankhesenamun had the grace to appear distressed. "And why would I know?"

"Because she was last seen with your personal guard and somehow nearly died in the quarantine area last night afterwards! Where is he? Where is Sete? I want him brought to me and I want answers, Ankhesenamun!"

"Surely, you're mistaken-,"

"-I am not mistaken! There were witnesses who saw them leave the palace together! Why would he be accompanying Suhad anywhere? Was it at your request?"

"Not at all. That is something you will have to ask her...when you are able but, I cannot give you the answers you seek."

"Not true for Sete," Tutankhamun countered in a frigid tone, "He most certainly can provide me with the answers and I will have them, Ankhesenamun...one way or another."

"I'm afraid he cannot give you any answers either," Ankhesenamun replied in a rush of breath, "He...He has gone away from the city, to visit with his family. I granted him permission last night. Perhaps, he and Suhad left at the same time and it was only assumed that they were in one another's company."

Tutankhamun raked her with a skeptical glower. "What a very convenient excuse."

At the moment, she had Sete hidden away due to Ay's fortuitous warning that the Pharaoh was currently seeking him out, but in the face of Tutankhamun's dogged determination Ankhesenamun recognized that keeping Sete concealed would not be enough. She would need to take more drastic actions if she meant to thoroughly cover her tracks, it seemed. Fear rolled through her in cold, creeping waves. Her heart thumped in her chest, so rapidly and forcefully that she was amazed Tutankhamun could not hear it. Despite her mounting anxiety, Ankhesenamun did her utmost to maintain a calm veneer even as her brother continued to regard her with a probing glare filled with mistrust.

"If it would please you," she managed as calmly as she could, "I could try and send a message to him on your behalf, though it is doubtful he will receive it right away."

His response to that was flat, cold and heavy with derision. "And why don't I find that fact at all surprising?"

"Are you accusing me of something, brother?"

"Suhad's last known whereabouts were with you and your personal guard. And yet you would have me believe that you know nothing of where she went or why she would have been found near quarantine!"

"I don't know!"

"I don't believe you!"

Ankhesenamun flinched in reaction to his flaring temper, shrinking back from him then. "You are obviously distraught," she managed in her most affronted tone, "Otherwise, I am certain that you would not be making such hurtful accusations against me!"

The wounded rebuke he detected in her tone managed to curb his anger slightly. "I do not know what else to think. It doesn't make sense that she would leave here without explanation."

"I told her not to go, that it would be dangerous for her to venture outside of the palace. In fact, I expressly forbade it but she was determined to act on her own!"

Ankhesenamun did not realize her zeal to defend her honor was, in fact, her own ruination until Tutankhamun lifted his eyes once more and she noted that their dark depths were swirling with renewed suspicion. "Are you saying that you knew of her intentions to leave last night when she was 'disillusioned' with me as you say and yet you did not speak a word to warn me when we were together? You said nothing? You did nothing? Furthermore, when I asked you specifically if you knew anything of import, you feigned complete ignorance! Yet now you are speaking with authority? Which is it, sister?"

She flailed about desperately for an suitable response before finally settling with a weak, "I did not wish to incur your anger against her due to her stubborn willfulness."

"So you were protecting her, is that it, out of the benevolence of your abundant heart?" Tutankhamun prompted with evident skepticism.

"Yes! Of course! Surely you realize that such an independent nature is a dangerous quality in a queen! She needs to learn restraint and discipline!"

"So it is your argument that it was Suhad's own obstinacy that led to this tragedy, is that what you're implying?"

Ankhesenamun drew herself up haughtily. "You tell me. You know her better than I, brother."

"We shall see if your personal guard corroborates that story," he replied calmly. And then he leaned in closer to her so that his lips were right against her ear when he added in a soft, menacing tone, "For your sake, dear sister, you should pray that he does."