Chapter Twenty-Three

Sete, it seemed, had simply vanished from the face of the earth.

Tutankhamun obsessed over that fact as sat on his throne only half listening while his advisers bickered amongst themselves about the impending arrival of the Mitanni prince. Instead of mentally preparing himself for that confrontation, he was acutely aware of his sister seated on the throne next to his, all the while, agonizing over the possibility that she might have conspired to have Suhad killed. He recoiled inwardly at the mere suspicion but nothing else made sense to him, especially not with Sete's unexplained disappearance. The elite guardsman had not been an affluent man or, for that matter, anyone with wealthy connections that he should manage to depart without a trace...not unless he was receiving assistance from some as yet undetermined source.

Despite Lagus' rather meticulous interrogation and search, no trace of the man had yet to be found. To compound the confusion, none of Sete's peers appeared to know anything about his intentions to visit his family and his family certainly hadn't been informed of that intention either. The man had simply left the palace and had not been heard from since. That left Tutankhamun with two distinct possibilities...either Sete had lied to Ankhesenamun about his true objective or Ankhesenamun was lying to him. Both scenarios were distasteful but the latter in particular was untenable.

At that point, there was only one person left who could provide Tutankhamun with answers and she was currently fighting for her life and mostly incoherent. Each time he thought of Suhad and the treacherous journey that yet remained ahead for her, Tutankhamun felt physically sick with worry and dread. He deliberately avoided entertaining even the possibility that she might die. His mind simply could not process the magnitude of such an agonizing prospect. Instead, he focused solely on her treatment and providing the physician with whatever supplies he requested, although Tutankhamun did his fair share of questioning the wisdom of said treatment.

Most especially, however, he had a difficult time heeding the decree to keep his distance from Suhad while she healed. In the initial interim after her injury, he tried to comply by situating himself in the guest chamber located adjacent to his own but, each time he lay down to sleep and began to dream, he was plagued by nightmares of losing her. He would awaken with his heart pounding like a drum, shaking uncontrollably and drenched in a cold sweat. Inevitably then, he would be out of bed and running down the corridor towards his chambers before he was even fully coherent in order to prove to himself that his dreams were not, in fact, reality.

Unfortunately, he was never allowed to see her. For his own safety and continued good health, he was kept beyond the perimeter of his bedchambers. The doors remained closed to him. It was that forced separation that proved to be the hardest struggle for Tutankhamun. Knowing that only a room's length separated them and he was unable to go in and touch her was agony for him. He did not like being apart from her, especially when he knew that she needed him. However, he did not rebel against the physician's orders because he didn't want to risk jeopardizing Suhad's recovery.

Furthermore, from a practical standpoint, Tutankhamun could understand the physician's rationale. The man had not been exaggerating when he'd suggested that Suhad's treatment would be intense. The air just outside his bedchamber was so pungent and thick that it was scarcely impossible to stand there, even for a few seconds, without being assailed with a violent fit of coughing and the painful, stinging eyes that accompanied it. Even the attendants stationed outside of his chambers kept their noses and mouths covered. He could not imagine how oppressive it must be inside his chambers.

At first, Tutankhamun hadn't understood how inducing Suhad to harsh fits of coughing could possibly aid in her recovery. He would often pace anxiously in the corridor outside of his bedchamber, listening to the wet, jarring rattling sounds that wrenched from her chest with such force that he was certain she would stop breathing. In those moments, he was certain that, if fever and infection did not kill her, the physician's treatment surely would. Tutankhamun had very nearly been on the verge of ordering his physician to cease his treatments altogether until he finally saw the benefit to Suhad's coughing, evidenced by the pots filled with the vile substance she would expel from her lungs.

After seeing that, he ceased in questioning the physician's judgment altogether. She was ridding the toxins from her body and that, at least, was an improvement in her health. Her fever continued to rage and her delirium persisted but, some healing was taking place, albeit slowly. Now the only thing that remained was for Suhad to awaken fully and that was proving to be the hardest wait of all...

"...we not make a show of force against the prince?" one of his advisers was saying, "Surely, King Tushratta would not act against us if it meant risking his son."

"It would be an advantage to us but a risky one," Ay considered. He turned a glance towards his Pharaoh, who was clearly lost in thought and paying very little attention to the proceedings going on around him. Ay cleared his throat pointedly. "My lord, what are your thoughts on this proposal?" When Tutankhamun appraised him with a disoriented stare, he clarified, "Should we seize hold of the Mitanni prince while we have him in our midst?"

"It could give us the advantage over King Tushratta," General Horemheb theorized, "Bend him to our will, as it were."

"Or it could incite his wrath," Tutankhamun countered, "If we were to hold his son as ransom, what is to stop King Tushratta from coming down upon Thebes with all the force he has? How could we possibly stand against him?"

"We would draw them into our territory and into our advantage where we would, at least, have a fighting chance," the general argued, "Whereas if we were to engage him out in the open desert we would surely meet with slaughter."

Tutankhamun responded with a pensive beat of silence before answering with a definitive, "No. Prince Ti'sata comes in peace to our land today. We will leave him in peace."

"Peace?" Ankhesenamun hissed in fury, "What are you saying? They slaughtered our cousin like a pig and sent her back to us impaled upon a spear! There can be no peace with these people, brother!"

"Silence!" he intoned sharply, "This is what I have spoken and this is how it will be!" He directed an implacable stare at all those assembled before him. "No one will raise a hand against the prince while he is a guest here. We will hear what he has come to say and we will make our answer to him. That," he finished with a penetrating look leveled at Ankhesenamun, "is all." He waited for the collective nod of assent from those assembled before him before waving his hand in dismissal. "You may leave me now."

"My lord, the Mitanni prince arrives in a matter of hours," Ay protested, "Surely you want to prepare what you are to say to him."

Tutankhamun regarded him with impassive eyes. "And what makes you think I have not?" he challenged, "Leave me." As all assembled before him began to obediently file out of the throne room, Tutankhamun quietly requested that Lagus remain behind. Both he and the commander were keenly aware of the anxious look traded between the vizier and the queen as the two set off in their opposing directions. Once the throne room was empty, Lagus addressed his pharaoh plainly.

"You are clearly distracted," he said, "and your animosity towards the queen is palpable. You must mask your emotions if you wish to gain answers from her."

"I know that," Tutankhamun sighed, "But every time she is near to me, I want to shake her until her teeth rattle! It is not unlike how I felt when I first returned to Thebes. I do not enjoy being surrounded by those who are seeking to undermine me! Is there no one I can trust?"

"You can trust me, my lord."

"And I am grateful to know it. Please do not think I take your friendship or your counsel for granted. Still, the circle of those in whom I can place my full confidence is growing smaller and smaller by the day. It is disheartening, to say the least."

"You have too much that weighs on your mind."

"Really, there is only one thing and yet it colors my perception of everything."

Lagus easily determined what his king left unspoken. "How is Suhad? Has she rallied yet?"

"The reports I've been given by the physician have been favorable, I suppose," Tutankhamun replied, his tone sharpened with an embittered edge, "She lives. The child lives. I am still not permitted to see her, however. He says that it is not safe for me."

"I'm certain the physician knows what he is doing."

"I feel as if there is an oppressive cloud of doom hanging over my head and I'm merely waiting for the moment when I will lose everything that is dear to me. I'm sick with dread over it."

"She will recover. I do not doubt her. Nor should you."

"Perhaps," Tutankhamun grunted, "But I cannot worry about that at the moment, can I? Prince Ti'sata will arrive shortly and I'm afraid I have no answer for him."

"What are you thinking?"

"That we have no army. We have no might to show them. And that I will be the one to lose this sacred land and that will be my legacy to my people."

"That is not to be your legacy," Lagus countered firmly, "I know that you are destined for greatness, my lord, even if you yourself cannot see it."

Tutankhamun rested his hand on Lagus' shoulder in a gesture of affection. "You are a good friend, Lagus. I am privileged to have you."

"And you need rest. Sleep for an hour. It will clear your mind."

Despite the restiveness that plagued him, Tutankhamun decided to follow Lagus' sage advice to sleep for a short while. He was extremely glad that he had. When the Mitanni prince arrived at his palace a few hours later and verbalized everything Tutankhamun had been dreading in his heart for weeks, he realized that, far beyond the trepidation and doubt he felt, he had his answer. King Tushratta was a reasonable man. Unlike his son, he was not brash and eager to show his might against those he would vanquish. Reasonable men, Tutankhamun recalled, would always listen to reason.

The Mitanni king had every intention of coming against Egypt with every bit of military force he had amassed. However, in his benevolence, he was willing to conquer Egypt without bloodshed if they extended their unconditional surrender. All that was within Tutankhamun's kingdom would then become Mitanni territory, including the great Nile River. The offer for a bloodless coup seemed like a saving grace, especially when there seemed to be no other options before the young pharaoh. Accepting the offer might very well be a way to spare his people and preserve some aspects of their customs and traditions. But, it would most assuredly, mean his death and the death of all those loyal to him.

After his throne room had been cleared, Tutankhamun continued to linger there alone, mentally constructing his response to the Mitanni. He knew that the plan he was considering was bold but he had made bolder moves in the past and found success. He would find it again.

It whilst he was in the middle of mentally formulating the details to his strategy that the physician found him and finally granted him permission to be at Suhad's side. "I have done all I can for her, my king," he told the pharaoh, "Her survival now rest in the hands of the gods." However, he had scarcely finished the statement before Tutankhamun was on his feet and sprinting for his bedchamber.

The moment he entered the interior room all who were inside exited quietly. Tutankhamun barely noticed their retreat as he made his way Suhad's side. He only had eyes for the woman lying in the center of his bed. She looked better than she had from the last time he had seen her though her condition had not improved as exponentially as he had hoped. All the soot and grime had been washed away from her body. Her hair and skin were clean and fresh, her body adorned with gossamer linen. She might have had the appearance of one sleeping were it not for the harshness of her breathing or the fine sheen of perspiration across her flesh that attested to her ongoing fever.

Beneath the light blanket that covered her, the swell of her belly was plainly evident. He placed a trembling hand against the mound, choking out a teary laugh of pure relief and joy when he felt his son thumping around within her. He swept up Suhad's hand and pressed a tender kiss to the back of it. "Can you not hear him, my love?" he whispered to her hoarsely, "Our son is demanding that you to open your eyes now. Can you do that for him? Can you do that for me?"

He waited, hopeful for a response to that, his heart aching painfully when he did not receive one. Disheartened, he nuzzled a kiss across her ear, raining small kisses across her temple and cheek. "I miss you so much, Suhad. I need you. Will you come back to me, please?"

"Has there been any improvement?"

Tutankhamun whipped around sharply when Ankhesenamun's voice sounded behind him, furiously blinking back the tears that had gathered in his eyes. He surveyed his sister with a wary stare. "Do you honestly care? Would it not serve you better if she never awakened at all?"

"You are cruel in the things you say to me, brother!"

"And you are transparent. Do not pretend you have any regard for her well being! You allowed her to leave the protective walls of this palace knowing full well what might befall her if she did!"

"Should I have shackled her to your bed?" Ankhesenamun cried desperately, "Tied her to a post perhaps? No one tells her what to do! She does as she pleases, Tutankhamun!"

"Which I'm certain suited you well. You never wanted her here. Do not pretend that it would not please you if she died...and my son died with her."

Ankhesenamun responded to that with a soundless gasp. "When did you begin to hold me in such contempt, brother?" she asked sadly, "When exactly did I lose your trust and respect?"

He turned back towards Suhad, his expression stony. "I don't know."

His words, while quiet and free of scorn and recrimination, were confirmation that he no longer regarded her as he once had, that the bond that they had once shared between them had been irrevocably altered. Ankhesenamun grieved over the loss. It was yet another thing she could count against Suhad.

"I know when it happened. It was when she came into our lives. She has blinded you."

"You're wrong. She's opened my eyes to things you could not possibly imagine," he countered fiercely, "She has made me a better Pharaoh to my people. I am better man with her...because of her."

"And will she help you find an answer for the Mitanni prince?" Ankhesenamun challenged.

He twisted a speculative look at her over his shoulder. "What is it that you are really after, sister?"

"What is your answer to the Mitanni?"

"You will know that when I reveal it to the prince."

"And should I not know what you are to say to him? This is our kingdom, not only yours! I am still your queen. I am still your sister."

"I will not jeopardize our land, if that is your fear, Ankhesenamun."

"My only real fear is losing you, brother. I despise this distance that has grown between us. I have already suffered too many losses. I cannot bear another."

He fixed her with a glittering eyes, staunchly refusing to allow the mutinous tears filling them to fall. "Do not do that. Do not play on my affection for you and use it to manipulate me."

"That is not what I am doing at all!" Tutankhamun started to turn away from her and Ankhesenamun made a frantic grab for his arm. "No! Do not look away! Look at me...please." With eyes brimming with tears, she waited until he faced her squarely before she uttered with complete sincerity, "I would never do anything to deliberately harm you. I love you. I...miss you."

He searched her beautiful features for traces of guile and deceit but all he could find was tearful honesty stamped all over her anguished expression. Some of the rigidity eased from his shoulders then and he found himself softening towards her. "I love you as well. I want to trust you, sister," he whispered after a beat of silence had passed between them, "but I am suspicious of your motives. If you are seeking to hurt Suhad then you are seeking to hurt me!"

"This is not about Suhad. This is about you and I...our blood, our bond as brother and sister...as husband and wife! My motives are the same as your own," she told him, "To act only in the interest of this sacred land and uphold the traditions of our ancestors." She reached out to briefly caress his cheek. "Everything I do is towards that end only. My desires are your desires, brother. My heart is your heart...just as it always has been."

Tutankhamun was still wrestling with himself over the wisdom of trusting his sister or maintaining his guard with her when he reentered his throne room with an answer for Prince Ti'sata. After the Mitanni prince was brought in before him, all assembled there, from his military generals, vizier, advisers and high priest to the Mitanni ambassadors who traveled with Prince Ti'sata, held their collective breaths as the Mitanni prince and Pharaoh of Egypt came face to face once more. Both men regarded one another in tense silence before Tutankhamun finally broke it.

"I have debated with my advisers, the gods and, most importantly, myself," he began softly, "King Tushratta holds the advantage. I cannot deny that. But, we are proud people and I would rather see the Nile River run with the blood of every Egyptian in this kingdom before I would cede it to you without a fight."

That pronouncement both shocked, invigorated and enraged the mixed company within the throne room and provoked a low hum of prattle throughout the chamber. Tutankhamun raised his hand in a bid for silence, quelling all noise within the room without a word. "So, in turn," he continued as he stepped down from his throne and began circling the Mitanni prince like a predatory cat, "I offer my own peace terms. We have suffered from illness, that much is true. But the Mitanni have suffered far worse from drought and starvation. You cannot provide for your own army, let alone the nations that stand with you. Your people are suffering and dying.

"Inform your King that he will receive 100 carts stocked with bread, millet and wine...enough to feed your people until the rains come again."

Prince Ti'sata scoffed. "Your last gift was not received as well as you had hoped. Are you expecting a different outcome this time?"

Tutankhamun faced him squarely. "My last gift was for you, Prince Ti'sata. This one is not," he stated flatly, "This is for your people. Tell your father he has misjudged me. If he refuses my offer, Egypt will stand against all the armies of the world and we can no longer stand, I will burn the fields. I will burn our grain. I will leave this kingdom a smoking husk and the Nile itself a polluted stream. Ask your father if he wants a war with no victor!"

"I make no promises," Ti'sata replied with an arrogant lift of his chin.

"Tell your father I have made mine," Tutankhamun replied before turning away to return to his throne. Recognizing his unspoken dismissal, Ay gave the order for the prince to be escorted from the throne room. Once he was gone, dozens of astonished and expectant gazes swung around to Tutankhamun. "Have the carts made ready."

General Horemheb gaped at the command. After such a fiercely impassioned speech, those were the last words he had expected the Pharaoh to utter. "What? Do you truly mean to feed the very army that he intends to send against us?"

"Yes. I do."

"You intend to poison them then?" Ay posited.

"No. The food shall be tested. It must be clean."

"So we are to provide them with full bellies before they invade our home and slaughter us?" Horemheb surmised with heavy sarcasm, "Or, do you intend to hide my men under the bread and grain in an attempt to smuggle them into the Mitanni camp? Tell me, what is your plan now that you have eliminated their one disadvantage?"

"It is not their only disadvantage," Tutankhamun replied evenly, "I know another way into the Mitanni stronghold. Ready 40 of your strongest men for travel, General." He and Lagus shared an unspoken exchange before he added, "They will not see us coming. Lagus, you will oversee the carts. I will give you the exact specifications of what I want included."

"Pardon, Pharaoh," the high priest spoke out before the assembly could be dismissed, "But the gods must be satisfied before you face this challenge."

Ay threw up his hands in disgust. "You speak to the Pharaoh of tribute when we face probable annihilation?"

"What better time to petition their good will?" Amun retorted sharply. He turned back to survey his pharaoh. "The gods watch you, my lord. They know your thoughts. They know your heart. They give rain, sun and the very crops you now give away but, most of all, they will give you victory if you prove your devotion to them."

"You say that the gods know my heart," Tutankhamun considered, "Then they should be well aware of the devotion I hold to this land and my commitment to fulfilling the weighty responsibilities that they themselves have entrusted to me. If my faith and my willingness to serve their purpose is not enough to prove my fidelity to them then perhaps it is time for me to reconsider what gods are worthy of my worshipful esteem."

"You speak the words your father Akhenaten spoke before you and that is a dangerous line of thought, my king," Amun warned.

"I am not my father! You see, I have faith...but in my own will, High Priest. My will. That is enough. When this war is over, the gods themselves will be devoted to me."

He watched the high priest storm from the throne room, followed by his under-priests and lastly those left remaining. Before Lagus could file out with them, however, Tutankhamun detained him. "We must discuss the details of my gift for the Mitanni," he said.

Ay hesitated in leaving, made increasingly uneasy by the Pharaoh's growing reliance on the commander. "Should I remain behind as well, my lord?"

"No," Tutankhamun replied, "Lagus will see to what I need. That will be all, Vizier." He waited deliberately until they had gained privacy before he spoke again. And then he asked, "What is your counsel for me?"

"The Vizier senses your growing distance and it is making him desperate. Desperate men are dangerous men, my lord. The High Priest is also likely to maneuver against you in your absence. I am sure the two are colluding with one another. They should both be arrested."

Tutankhamun silently mulled over Lagus' words. "Ay is a shrewd man, Lagus," he considered, "He has an uncanny ability for making himself an ally to all sides. A very valuable skill in times such as these. He may yet be of use to me."

"He seeks his own interest."

"He does. But, in his way, he cares for me. Besides that, he would not counsel me in a way so that Egypt would fall prey to her enemies. Otherwise, what would he aspire to rule?"

Lagus squinted at him in bewilderment. "I don't understand. You know he seeks your throne and yet you keep him within your inner circle."

"I know what he is and I have every intention of using it to my own advantage."

"And the high priest?"

"He should be handled decisively...but carefully. Having him arrested will do little to quell his influence. It may only prove his words."

"He is a fraud and he misrepresents himself as a friend of the people."

"Oh, I am very well aware of that, but unfortunately, my people are not. Amun and his army of priests are more powerful than Horemheb's entire infantry. He will be dealt with soon enough, Lagus. One enemy at a time."