Moonrise over the Nile, by Anel Viz

[© 2010 by Anel Viz. All rights reserved. Note: This story is a condensation of part 6 of Anel Viz's novel-in-progress, The Pyramid of Nepensiret. As he has several projects currently in the fire, he expects to complete it in about a year.]

1. Apara

Toward sunset a light breeze had risen from downriver. As the first stars appeared and the scorching heat subsided with the approach of a cool and pleasant evening, Khasekhemre, Pharaoh Neferhotep I, lord of Upper and Lower Egypt, had dismissed the slaves who stood impassively beside his couch waving languorous palm fronds over his lovemaking.

Blackness now blanketed the sky, but the Nubian boy Apara could not sleep. In two days he would be crowned Queen of Egypt. It was not excitement, however, but foreboding that kept him awake. By now Kemi would have learned what her son intended, and she would certainly oppose it. It was she who, using her prestige as a granddaughter of Amenemhet III, had secured the throne for Khasekhemre, her eldest son, and after five years his hold on it remained tenuous. Not even as Neferhotep I would Khasekhemre dare stand up to his mother.

When Apara had spoken of his misgivings, Pharaoh had brushed them aside. “Who is there to replace me?” he asked. “My brother Sihathor is a feeble-minded idiot frightened of his own shadow, and Sobekhotep is only a child. Mother would sooner I married you than see another family on the throne.”

Apara had answered him indirectly. “She will not allow you to repudiate your wife.”

“Nepensiret is my sister.”

“You married her.”

“Mother married me to her. She’s my wife in name only.”

“She is Queen of Egypt.”

“A queen bee who never leaves her apartments at the back of the palace, and a sterile queen at that.”

“Not sterile. Unbedded.”

“That is her own doing. I haven’t surrounded her with eunuchs. Her function is to provide me with an heir; mine is to reign. What do I care who fathers the next Pharaoh? Why should Mother care? If Nepensiret gave birth to a crocodile, she’d still be its grandmother. She’s always known that women disgust me. It’s why she had me marry Nepensiret.”

“Which is why she won’t let you repudiate her.”

“I’m not repudiating her; I’m sending her away. Her presence in the palace upsets me. I’d let her stay if she’d only do what I married her for and get herself with child. Who among my male slaves do you think is best suited to sire a healthy child?”

“None of the palace slaves would want to lie with her. Send her one of your scribes or necromancers or physicians. Better yet, choose a soldier in the palace guard.”

“No, I want him to be a slave.”

“Then look among the workmen who haul the stones to build your pyramid. But she’d never accept him.”

Was Nefu dense or was he just being stubborn, Apara wondered. Kemi always had her way. If he proved recalcitrant, Kemi would put her daughter on the throne. It would not be the first time a woman ruled Egypt. A woman ruled it now – Kemi.

Silently, so as not to disturb the sleeping Pharaoh, Apara rose from the couch and snuffed out the single oil lamp that flickered on the low table strewn with the remains of their supper. Darkness flooded the room. Moving cautiously lest he tread on one of the salukis that lay curled up on the floor, he went out onto the balcony to watch the moon rise over the Nile.

The chill night air caressed his naked body as gently as Pharaoh’s lips. Beyond the landing at the foot of the palace, the river stretched left and right like a motionless ribbon of empty space. The night was so dark, Apara could barely distinguish the outlines of the sacred city of Gebtu, one-half mile distant on the east bank.

He waited, gazing back at the cat-eyes of the goddess Bast that glinted unblinking in the inky depths of the heavens. They began to fade as falcon-headed Khonsu climbed from behind the dunes on the further shore, the pale disk of the moon cradled in his crescent headpiece. The sands lightened from dark ochre to glowing cream, the date palms cast faint shadows, the river came alive with the white ripples of lapping waves, and the massive columns of the balcony shimmered with reflected light.

Directly above him, undimmed by Khonsu’s rising, shone three stars in a straight line. Pharaoh had traced them in the night sky after their first lovemaking and told him they were the khenen of Min, the god of rain, procreation and the harvest, and guardian of the moon. Then, kissing him, he’d said, “Yours is no less splendid.”

Apara turned his eyes to the south toward the cool, green, mountain country beyond the third cataract where he had spent his early childhood. He was only nine years old when he and a hundred other boys and girls had been sent to Egypt as tribute for the new Pharaoh. For a while they served him his morning meal and performed native dances for him in the evening, but the monarch quickly tired of them, and they were sold to new owners and scattered throughout Egypt. Only Apara had remained in the palace, working in the kitchen. Years later, when his genitals had nearly reached their adult size, Pharaoh picked him out from among the forty youths and nubile maidens chosen to wait on him at the Festival of Min and asked who he was. Ba-Hefnuti recognized him as a boy who cleaned and cut vegetables for royal banquets. “Why have they hidden such a beauty away in the kitchen?” Pharaoh exclaimed. “He should serve me personally. See to it that he is circumcised.”

Now he was to be crowned Queen of Egypt and given the name Min-Panhsjet.

The memory of his parents and his native land no longer made him homesick. He could imagine no greater happiness than to live in the palace, adored and pampered by the Pharaoh he loved. Nothing would come between them as long as the world endured. A few days’ journey away, a short two-hour walk beyond the first cataract, Khonsu also shone on the half-finished pyramid that would house his and Pharaoh’s mortal envelopes for eternity after the king died and Aken had ferried their souls to the underworld. They had gone there by chariot the month before to see how it was progressing. Nefu had asked him then if he would be willing to leave this life while still so young. “I’m nearly twice your age, Apara, and Nephthys will call me well before your time.”

He answered, “My greatest wish is never to be separated from my lord. I would follow you anywhere, even there.”

Looking north, the boy scanned the horizon. Far downstream, in the middle of the river but to one side of the dancing ripples that marked the current, there appeared a white patch that grew steadily larger and did not dance. As it drew nearer, he recognized it as a rectangular sail. Half an hour later, when Khonsu had almost reached the river of stars and the boat in which he would sail across the sky, a royal barque came to dock beside the landing. Servants hurried from the palace to meet it. A gangway was lowered from the deck. A stately woman dressed in white linen shining like the purest alabaster stepped onto it; her golden necklace, bracelets and earrings glinted in the moonlight. The servants fell to their knees, touching their foreheads to the stone embankment.

Kemi. Apara had never seen her, but he knew her at once. She raised her eyes toward the balcony where he stood, and he moved a few steps backward, though she could not have seen him there, a shadow against the deeper shadows of the unlit bedchamber behind him.

Soundlessly, he hurried back to the couch and, bending forward, whispered in Pharaoh’s ear, “Nefu, wake up.”

Neferhotep stirred. “What time is it?” he asked indifferently.

“About an hour past midnight. Maybe more.”

“Come back to bed.”

“Nefu, your mother is here.”

“Mother can wait till morning. The slaves will attend to her comfort. Anyway, she’ll want to see my sister first. She will dismiss all Nepensiret’s male slaves and call for eunuchs. Then she will bathe and rest from her journey till the sun is high. There’s no hurry. Where is my cupbearer?”

“At his post, outside the door with Ba-Hefnuti and Tewar.”

“Asleep?”

“I assume so.”

Neferhotep swung his feet to the floor and sat facing the balcony. “Bid him bring wine.”

The Nubian wrapped a kilt around his loins and went to the door to deliver Pharaoh’s command. He did not cover himself for modesty’s sake. Egyptians not infrequently went about their labors uncovered – farmers in the field, kitchen workers – because of the climate, so much hotter than in his distant homeland. He did it out of consideration for the cupbearer’s feelings. Cheops had often seen him naked, not just in passing, but standing close enough to reach out and touch his generously proportioned sacred organs of generation. Just a few hours before, he had stood expressionless beside the couch when Apara, balanced precariously on his shoulders, his legs splayed wide and his genitals flapping wildly from side to side, his eyes fixed on the palm fronds swaying above them, had moaned loudly at every thrust while Pharaoh filled him with the hot seed of Ra. At one moment, Apara’s head rolled to one side, and he glimpsed the cupbearer’s arousal where he stood beside the couch. Poor Cheops! For nearly a year he had loathed the upstart Nubian and would have poisoned his drink but for fear of Pharaoh’s wrath. Not out of sexual jealousy: he was convinced the boy would replace him as cupbearer. Now that Apara was to be Queen of Egypt and his own position was secure, he lusted after the newcomer. They all did.

Tewar lifted the torch from its bracket on the wall above them to light the way to the table, where Cheops filled a shallow drinking vessel and handed it to Tewar to taste. No drop or morsel passed Pharaoh’s lips unless Tewar had first tasted of the dish.

“Just bring it here,” Pharaoh said, looking bored. “Nobody has been in the room since I was last served from the jug, and Apara has been awake the whole time.”

“I went onto the balcony and stayed there for hours.”

“What for?”

“To welcome Khonsu. Then I watched your mother’s barque sail up the Nile.”

“Well, what of it? These two were sitting by the door.”

“Asleep.”

After Tewar had taken a sip, Cheops came to kneel beside the couch and presented it to Pharaoh, who took the wine and waved him away.

The cupbearer and slave retired. “Light,” Neferhotep said. Apara lit the oil lamp.

“Less light.” Apara moved the lamp to a far corner of the room, placed it on the floor, and came to stand by his future husband.

“Take off your kilt. Come closer.”

Apara obeyed. Neferhotep said, “Here is the god I worship,” and reaching for the boy’s penis, he drew it into his mouth.

Footsteps clamored and lights blazed in the vestibule. A dozen torch-bearing slaves burst into the room with Kemi behind them. Apara tried to pull away, but Neferhotep, intent on his pleasure, tightened his grip on the boy’s buttocks and held him close, ignoring the intrusion.

Kemi was a tall, thin, fair-skinned woman, like her son, but much narrower in the shoulder and with nearly fleshless arms. She had a beaked nose, and a thick outline of kohl made her narrow eyes unnaturally large. The straight, black hair of her wig, circled by a gold tiara surmounted by a hooded cobra, hung over her bony shoulders, and the fringed pendants of her necklace lay flat on her sunken, almost bosomless chest.

“An edifying spectacle!” she exclaimed imperiously. “Pharaoh on his knees, groveling in front of a slave!”

Hearing her voice, Neferhotep turned. “I’m sitting, Mother. And I’m not groveling – I’m sucking his khenen, and I don’t appreciate the interruption. Nor will he be a slave for long.” His voice sounded petulant. “Besides, you must be weary. Come to the throne room tomorrow after lunch.”

“What I have to say is not something we want the whole court to hear.”

“Then you oughtn’t to speak of it in front of your retainers,” he grumbled, indicating the torch-bearers with a wave of his arm. “I’ll welcome you to the palace officially, and then we can retire to an inner chamber and have it out. Can’t this wait? I’m very happy to see you again, Mother, honestly I am, but as you see, I’m busy at the moment. Now come give me a kiss and go to bed.”

Thereupon he turned his back to her, and without waiting for a kiss, he took Apara’s softening phallus in his hand and muttered, “Now, where were we?”

2. Kemi

The breeze off the river died with the coming of dawn. Two prepubescent slaves silently entered the royal apartments, drew the curtain across the entrance to the balcony, took up their post by the couch, and gently fanned the sleeping Pharaoh and his Nubian lover. Before the golden disk of the sun had reached the height of the balcony, the heat lay shimmering on the sands, and by the time Ba-Hefnuti, Cheops and Tewar brought in the noonday meal, the still air had become like an oven.

Cheops knelt motionless by the couch, the gold wine-cup in his raised hands. Ba-Hefnuti carved a slice from the roasted bird and gave it to Tewar to taste. Then he cut up the meat and placed it beside the wheaten cakes on the plate for Tewar to serve. Neferhotep lay on his side next to a platter of fruit. He pointed to one and then another. Tewar took a bite from each and gave the first to Pharaoh and the other to Apara, who sat at the end of the couch, his face painted, a large ring on every finger, and sweltering in the unfamiliar full-length shift and heavy wig. It was the first time he had worn women’s clothing.

“Must I always dress like this when I’m Queen, Nefu?” he complained.

“Only when we leave the palace or hold full court or receive state visitors. The rest of the time you can wear your loincloth – or nothing. Why? Does it embarrass you?”

“No... Well, maybe a little. But it’s so uncomfortable! And in this heat, too! I’m bathed in sweat.”

“You’ll be able to take them off soon enough. Our interview with Mother won’t last very long.” He turned to one of the guards by the door. “Send word to her I shall come to the throne room in half an hour. Stand up, Apara. Let me see how you look.”

“Again?”

“Again. And hold yourself regally, as you will when you sit on your throne.”

“Then I should practice sitting.”

“Today you will stand behind me. I haven’t crowned you yet.”

“Will you have Nepensiret sit beside you?”

“And show her favor over you? Certainly not.”

“I think you should.”

“Why?”

“To please your mother. Make her think that if she lets you have your way in this, you’ll comply with her wishes and bed your sister.”

“That water buffalo?”

Apara laughed. “Where does she get her looks? Nobody would take you for brother and sister.”

“From our father. Haankhef was a full head shorter than Mother and more than twice her weight.”

“Did she inherit nothing from your mother?”

“Only her stubbornness, which can be a virtue in a person of intelligence – it’s called tenacity – but it is invariably a weakness if you’re stupid. On second thought, she shall sit next to me. Let everyone see you and her together, and compare. Come, get up. This time I want to see you walk. Yes, you’ll make a beautiful queen, the most beautiful since there have been pharaohs in Egypt, but I still prefer you as a boy.”

“Then why disguise me as a woman?”

“So the world will know you’re Queen of Egypt and defer to you as such. Sobeknefru wore a beard to show she was King. The shift isn’t all that bad, is it? I had it sewn from the finest linen, as light as gossamer, and your arms are bare.”

“It adheres to my skin. I feel as if I were wrapped as tightly as a mummy. And this awful wig!”

“It couldn’t be any hotter than my royal headdress.”

“Which you aren’t wearing.”

“I’ll have to when I welcome Mother to the palace, and my floor-length robe, too, and so much jewelry it will be hard to walk. I intend to dazzle her, as will you. Now eat.”

*****

Kemi was not to be outshone. She took her time, making the assembled notables wait a full quarter-hour for her to appear, and wore an ankle-length gown of gold cloth with sleeves molded to her arms down to her wrists. The wide belt resting on her boyish hips was made of round plates of hammered silver set with alternating studs of carnelian and lapis lazuli fastened with an enormous onyx clasp in the form of a scarab. A green and silver neck collar covered her bosom like a warrior’s armor. The hair of her wig had been tied in thin braids strung with beads of milky white chalcedony and yellow jasper. Not a single stone in her jewelry was glass. Her statuesque magnificence eclipsed her frumpy daughter, who waddled alongside her, big breasted and heavy hipped.

Prodded by her mother, Nepensiret ascended the steps to the throne before Neferhotep had signaled her to sit beside him. Even in her Queen’s regalia, she looked very much like a market woman come to peddle melons in the royal kitchen who had lost her way and wandered into the throne room by mistake, so insignificant was her demeanor. She seemed to melt into her throne the moment she took her place, and became as if invisible, so all one saw on the dais were Pharaoh holding the flail and crook of his kingship crossed in front of his chest, and behind him a beautiful Nubian girl, her left hand resting on the back of the throne.

The audience ended almost as soon as it began. Neferhotep greeted his mother and inquired after her comfort. Then he asked for news from the Delta.

“Rumor has it the Philistines are raising another army,” Kemi replied.

“To invade us?”

“The astrologers say they will.”

“Who leads our troops?”

“Nebankh.”

“Then we will defeat them. We must speak more of this... in private.” Neferhotep rose. “Leave us,” he said. Then he gave his hand to the Nubian girl and led her out through a small door behind the throne. Kemi and Nepensiret followed.

The notables dispersed. None of them was fooled. Pharaoh would leave military strategy to his generals. Discussing a possible invasion did not require secrecy.

*****

Neferhotep led them down a corridor to a small inner chamber. An armed guard was posted outside the door. Inside, four chairs had been placed around a table set with four plates and goblets. Cheops and Tewar stood near the wall, the former holding a large pitcher of cool pomegranate juice, the latter a tray of seed and honey cakes. Neferhotep sat down and motioned to his guests to join him. Tewar set the tray on the table, took a cake, bit into it, and placed it on Pharaoh’s plate. Then Cheops filled the goblets. Pharaoh handed his to Tewar, who took a sip. Finally, Neferhotep clapped his hands, and the servants retired.

Apara and Nepensiret remained silent throughout the interview, anxiously watching as Kemi and her son tried to outmaneuver one another.

“Very well, Mother,” Neferhotep began. “What is it you want to say to me?”

“First send him away,” Kemi said coldly.

“You send her away.”

“Nepensiret is your wife.”

“Apara will also be my wife before long. Who would make me a more suitable bride than the most beautiful woman in Egypt?”

“Woman?” she sneered. “Besides, you already have a wife.”

“A pharaoh may have as many wives as he wishes.”

“But only one queen.”

“Is it just the coronation you object to, then, or do you oppose the marriage as well?”

“I will not allow either. Take a hundred wives if you like – take two hundred, a thousand – but no husbands.”

“Other Pharaohs have had eunuchs. They’ve even married them.”

“You may have a harem full of eunuchs, and with my blessing.”

“I don’t like eunuchs. I find them... well, lacking. It unnerves me. You can argue with me until the Nile dries up, but I will not give up Apara.”

“Then keep him for your plaything, if you must, but don’t go parading this favorite of yours in front of your subjects.”

“Why not? My subjects will envy me. As my wife, Apara will be the chief adornment of my court.”

“They’ll snicker behind your back.”

“Let them. What do I care if they snicker, so long as they fear me? What good does it do me to be Pharaoh if I cannot have what I most desire? And what I want most is Apara. Admit it, Mother, she is ravishing.”

“Ravishing, yes, and in more ways than one. She, no.”

“She, Mother. From the moment we are married, Apara will become ‘she’ everywhere but in the bedchamber. Look at her. Who would suspect what lies hidden beneath that gown?”

“I’ve seen it.”

“So you have. Have you ever seen anything more glorious? A khenen to rival Min’s, and the god’s black skin, too, as smooth and luxuriant as the Nile mud. Is it any wonder I want to marry her?”

“Will this wife bear you children?”

“Will Nepensiret?”

“Not without your help.”

“But Apara might. I’ll do my best.”

“I hear you’ve been doing your best for more than a year. Where are the results?”

“After we’re married, I’ll pray to the gods for a son. The gods are powerful, Mother. They can work miracles.”

“You’ll ask the gods to turn your dark-skinned beauty into a woman?”

“Anything but a woman.”

“Then they won’t answer your prayers.”

“I bow to their wisdom.”

“Don’t blaspheme. I demand you give up this insane project. Promise me you will.”

Neferhotep sighed. “Will you stay for the wedding, Mother?”

“I shall stay until I’m certain there will be no wedding.”

“How do you propose to stop it?”

“You control your servants, Khasekhemre; they do whatever you tell them. But the priests obey me.”

Neferhotep fell silent. He knew she was right. After a long pause, he said, “Perhaps we can agree to compromise. If you accept this marriage and welcome Apara as your daughter-in-law, Nepensiret may remain Queen of Egypt. This boy only wants my love. He doesn’t covet the throne. Isn’t that so, Apara?”

Apara nodded.

“I told you: there will be no marriage,” Kemi hissed through her teeth.

“I’ve made my offer. Sleep on it, Mother; it’s my final word. I have nothing more to say.”

“But I have.”

“I don’t want to hear it. Maybe I will later.” He clapped for the guard. “Escort me and my bride-to-be to the royal apartments. Good day, Mother. Enjoy your visit. And since you’re so easily offended, kindly refrain from coming into my bedchamber unless I invite you.”

Kemi sat stone still, her teeth clenched and her face purple with rage, until their footsteps had disappeared down the corridor. Then she rose.

“I told you it was useless,” Nepensiret said.

“Useless? He’ll never marry his Nubian whore. I won’t permit it.”

“I didn’t mean the marriage. Neferhotep will never get me with child.”

“I never thought he would. There are other ways to get pregnant than lying with your husband.”

“Shall I sacrifice to the gods?”

“What good would that do? Spread your legs for a man.”

“Let me keep my pride, Mother; it’s all I have left. I am Queen of Egypt and will give myself to no man other than Pharaoh.”

“Better to be mother of the next Pharaoh than to remain childless, whoever the father. A barren woman is an object of scorn. People laugh at her. Tell me, is there no man you desire?”

“There was, one. You forbade the marriage.”

“Nebankh was only a captain then. You may have him now if the gods grant us victory in battle and he returns with rich booty to fill our coffers.”

“Nebankh would not stoop to be the concubine of another man’s wife, not even Pharaoh’s. Besides, would he love me now? See how fat I’ve grown!”

“Because you sit in your rooms all day stuffing your belly with food to fill the emptiness in your heart. I’ll say it again. Spread your legs for a man. Any man.”

“Pharaoh would never allow it. He would see Nebankh as his rival. He might even have him poisoned.”

“His rival? Khasekhemre would be jealous of you, not Nebankh. He’ll be only too glad to get you off his hands. You’re fretting over obstacles that don’t exist.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “The general is an ambitious man. He would not resist a union that put him next in line to become Pharaoh. We’ll say no more about it here. The walls have ears.”

*****

Back in their room, a jubilant Neferhotep wondered why Apara did not appear to share his enthusiasm. “I never dreamed it would go so well!” he crowed. “Why so glum, Apara? Come, give me a kiss.”

“It was disconcerting, hearing you call me ‘she’. May I get out of these rags now?”

“Rags? Why, Min himself would not spurn them! They cost a fortune to make. Didn’t you see how jealous they made Nepensiret? Humor me a while longer and keep them on for now.” Neferhotep sat on the couch and addressed the roomful of servants. “Look everyone! Has there ever been a more beautiful woman?”

“I doubt I shall ever get used to my new role. I like being a male.”

“Then be one.” Dismissing his servants, Neferhotep got on his hands and knees and lifted his kilt to expose his buttocks. “Do what men do!”

Apara was shocked. “Pharaoh!”

“What do think I’m marrying you for? Come, hitch up your gown. For years I’ve watched my slaves writhe in pleasure when I mounted them. I want to know how it feels. Didn’t you hear my mother? You’ll be both wife and husband to me. Be quick about it. Pharaoh doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

3. Neferhotep

Six weeks had passed, and the wedding still had not taken place. The morning after his confrontation with Kemi, the temple priests had come to tell Pharaoh the day was inauspicious; his marriage would have to be postponed.

“I can wait,” he said. And wait he did.

Kemi also waited. Not once had her son invited her to the royal apartments, not once had he summoned her to attend court. He had not even held a banquet in her honor. She divided her time between pestering her daughter to take a lover and scheming to prevent her son’s marriage. Every day she met with the priests, who came to dread her browbeating and manipulation. At the same time, Pharaoh pressured them incessantly to set a date. When they protested they could hold out no longer, Kemi bought their cooperation.

Ten times she had crossed the river to visit the temples in Gebtu, worshipping at as many as three or four on the same day. She had prayed to Sobek and Sekhmet, to Thoth and Tatenen, to Apis, Meshkenet and Ptah. Once she had gone to the Temple of Min and come face to face with his statue – larger than life, black skinned and dressed in women’s clothing, his erect penis silhouetted beneath his gown. So striking was the resemblance to Apara, she left without making an offering and never returned.

Still hoping Nepensiret would relent, she recalled the male retainers she had dismissed the night she arrived and reserved the eunuchs she had sent away for her exclusive service. She nudged her daughter and smiled encouragingly every time a handsome, muscular man entered the room, and would sing his praises after he left, but Nepensiret showed no interest in any of them.

In the meantime, Neferhotep had become addicted to his new-found pleasure. A half-dozen times a day or more, he would order his servants from the room and offer up his posterior to Apara, who was apparently inexhaustible. The servants, astonished at the boy’s prowess, would cluster outside the door and listen to Pharaoh’s ecstatic screams.

By day Neferhotep made Apara wear his Queen of Egypt costume, though at the hottest part of the day he allowed him to take off the wig. Not until nightfall would he allow him to go naked. By then the Nubian’s virility had been drained and could not be aroused though Pharaoh had him served the most potent aphrodisiacs for their evening meal, so when they retired to their couch, it fell to the king to take the man’s role. He would lie on his side behind his lover, his free arm clasped around his chest, while Apara nuzzled back into the hollow of his hips and greedily tightened his buttocks around him. The Nubian found comfort in this act of loving submission and looked forward all day to the moment his lord would expend his passion inside him. Then, when Neferhotep had fallen asleep, he would go out onto the balcony and let the soothing night air waft over his overtaxed phallus.

*****

At last Kemi felt she could delay no longer. She worried about her youngest. Her middle son, Sihathor, hadn’t a mean bone in his body and was devoted to his little brother, but he was an incompetent and could not be trusted to look out for him. Also, she felt isolated in the south. It vexed her to be far removed from the center of political activity. Until then she had always played a crucial role in state affairs; now she needed to reaffirm her influence.

She chose Senebsen, the Queen’s confidante and favorite handmaiden, to convey her message to Pharaoh.

When Senebsen arrived, Neferhotep was playing a game of catch with a black-skinned girl. They stood on opposite sides of the room, and the salukis scampered back and forth between them, following the ball. “What does your mistress want?” he asked.

“The Lady Kemi sent me. She says she will leave tomorrow and invites you and Queen Nepensiret to dine with her on her barque tonight when the crescent moon appears on the horizon.”

Senebsen hesitated, embarrassed.

“What else does she say?”

“That you are not to bring your Nubian boy.” The black-skinned girl smiled and waggled her fingers at her.

“Very well. Tell my mother I accept her invitation.”

Senebsen bowed low and left the room. “Take Tewar with you,” Apara said, “and do not go without an armed bodyguard of at least a dozen men. I do not trust that woman. She intends some mischief.”

“My mother will not try to poison me, but I fear what she may do to you in my absence. You will stay here, Tewar, and taste every morsel Ba-Hefnuti and Cheops serve him for dinner. Watch him closely, Cheops, and you, too, Ba-Hefnuti. Don’t let him out of your sight. If any harm comes to him, you will pay dearly for it.”

“Must they serve me, Nefu?” Apara asked. “I’ve never eaten alone, not in my whole life. May not the four of us eat together?” He realized that even as Queen he would have no allies among the nobles. Except for Pharaoh, he would have to rely on his former fellow-servants for companionship.

Neferhotep understood the boy’s request. Though he considered them far beneath him – he was, after all, godlike, if not an actual god – he himself felt more comfortable in the company of his household slaves than with the priests and aristocrats of Egypt. “They may eat with you if you wish,” he said, “but wear your regal gown and gold jewelry and your wig, lest they forget you are their Queen.”

The table servants appreciated Apara’s gesture, and any trace of jealousy they may have harbored vanished. Freed from the formality Pharaoh’s presence required, they had a merry meal. They served each other and fed scraps to the salukis, joking and teasing until tears of laughter ran down their cheeks. Then they played board games and told riddles while they waited for Pharaoh to return.

Long after midnight, Neferhotep still had not come. Apara bade his friends good night, and they took up their posts outside the door. “You had better stay awake until Pharaoh gets back,” he reminded them. “He ordered you to watch over me.” Then, still in his gown and wig, he stepped out onto the balcony.

The sliver of moon had passed into the western sky, behind the palace. On either side of the wide band of light from the room behind him, the balcony was shrouded in darkness, the night’s stillness broken only by frogs croaking in the papyrus. A single light shone in the cabin of Kemi’s barque where it lay silently at anchor alongside the embankment several yards downstream.

Apara walked to the end of the balcony and peered over the balustrade to see what was keeping Nefu so long. Below him Pharaoh’s bodyguards all lay asleep on the deck. He sensed something moving behind a column in the darkness behind him. One of the dogs must have followed him out. Without turning around, he snapped his fingers, inviting it to be petted.

*****

Toward dawn Neferhotep awoke from a drugged sleep. Lifting his head off his folded arms, he saw Kemi seated across the table from him playing a game of solitaire with brown and white stones and looking very bored.

“Up at last?” she asked. “It’s about time. You know I wanted to get an early start.”

“Where’s Nepensiret?”

“Nepensiret went back to her apartments hours ago. You drank too much, Khasekhemre. You overindulge in everything. You’re undermining your health.”

“If you must lecture someone on the virtues of moderation, lecture your daughter. You’ve seen what she looks like.”

“I have spoken to her. She’s promised to eat less.”

“What time is it?”

Kemi rose from her chair and drew aside the gauze curtain that hung in the cabin door. “The sun will rise soon. Just look at your soldiers, lying there in a drunken stupor! Disgusting! They’re worse than you are!”

Yawning, Neferhotep stood up and shook his head violently to clear his thoughts. Then he lumbered out to the deck and angrily kicked his soldiers awake. They rubbed their eyes and sat up, surprised at having been caught dozing.

Kemi had followed him out of the cabin. Her slaves stood lined up on the embankment, waiting to load her trunks onto the barque. “Come kiss me goodbye,” she said. “Nepensiret made her farewells last night.”

Neferhotep hastily kissed his mother and strode down the gangplank and into the palace, his bodyguard marching in double file behind him. Kemi watched them go. Then she clapped her hands, and the slaves began carrying up her belongings. “Someone get the boatmen,” she said.

Cheops, Tewar and Ba-Hefnuti were glad to see Pharaoh, having stood at attention all night outside the bedchamber. He dismissed his sheepish-looking bodyguard, telling them to take a cold bath and get their blood flowing again. He entered the room, and the three servants sank wearily to the floor and closed their eyes.

A few seconds later, Pharaoh was back at the door. “Where’s Apara?” he asked.

“Isn’t he there?” Cheops asked, unsure he had heard correctly.

Pharaoh turned pale and rushed down the staircase in panic. From the entrance to the palace he saw Kemi’s barque pulling out into the current. Furious, he called for a pirogue to go after it.

The terrified rowers could not go fast enough for him. About a mile beyond Gebtu, they came close enough for the captain of Kemi’s barque to recognize Pharaoh standing in the pirogue. He informed his mistress her son was coming, and she ordered him to pull out of the current and bid Pharaoh come on board.

When they drew up alongside the barque, Neferhotep refused to leave the pirogue. “Have my mother come to me,” he insisted.

Kemi came and stood at the rail. “What do you want, my son?” she asked calmly. “You seem agitated.”

“Apara has disappeared. What have you done with him?”

“Apara? Oh, you mean your Nubian. I know nothing about it. I haven’t seen him since our quarrel behind the throne room. Maybe he came to his senses and saw where his presumptuous ambition would lead him. Maybe he fled back to his own country.”

Neferhotep could see she was lying. “Impossible. How would he have left the palace? Did he sprout wings and fly off the balcony?”

“Have you looked on the balcony to see if he dropped a black feather?” she sneered.

Of course! The balcony – Apara often went there to watch the moon. He had fallen asleep there before. “Quick! Back to the palace!” Neferhotep yelled.

“I hope he has fled,” Kemi called after them.

*****

Apara was not on the balcony. He wasn’t anywhere. Neferhotep ordered the salukis put to death and then rushed to his sister’s apartments, accompanied by forty soldiers in full armor with drawn swords.

Nepensiret’s mouth fell open in astonishment. It was the first time Pharaoh had come there. She looked at him questioningly.

“Apara’s gone missing.”

“Apara?” Her bewilderment was unmistakable. It was clear she could tell him nothing.

Pharaoh turned his wrath on the men who waited on her. “Where is he?” he thundered. “I’ll wring it out of you if I have to castrate every one of you!” Then it dawned on him. The eunuchs! They were Kemi’s creatures. The priests were, too, but he dared not challenge them.

“Round up the eunuchs and have them brought to the judgment hall for questioning,” he ordered his soldiers.

*****

Bound hand and foot, the trembling eunuchs cowered in the judgment hall. They spoke in whispers, trying to predict what horrible tortures Pharaoh would devise to force them to tell what he wanted to know.

“It’s about his Nubian,” one said. “What else could it be?”

“But we had nothing to do with that,” objected another.

“What difference does that make? We knew, and we didn’t warn him.”

“How could we? Pharaoh never lets us come near him.”

“Do you think he cares? He’ll torture us anyway and then he’ll put us to death.”

“Then better to confess at once and die swiftly.”

“And Kemi?” asked a third. “I fear her more than Pharaoh.”

“She did not swear us to secrecy.”

They fell silent as Neferhotep entered the hall with four embalmers carrying vases, each wearing the mask of a son of Horus. He pointed to a eunuch. A soldier dragged the man to the center of the room, where one of the embalmers slit open his belly, pulled out his intestines, and dropped them into a vase while he howled in agony.

“Now cut out his liver,” Pharaoh said indifferently.

It was enough; the eunuchs confessed.

“Eviscerate them all and dump their entrails in the river!” Pharaoh ordered. Then he left the hall, taking four soldiers with him. “Have my barque made ready,” he said to one of them.

*****

A strong wind had risen from the south, and the barque made slow progress. After three hours, Neferhotep ordered the rowers to turn the boat around. He would travel by chariot.

By the time they reached the embankment, the palace was engulfed in a sandstorm, but Pharaoh insisted on setting out immediately. They would stay close to the river so as not to lose their way in the storm, a caravan of five chariots in case one became mired in the sand or the horses suffocated. His personal servants would follow by barque with two dozen armed men when the wind subsided.

The storm went on for more than a week. They reached the building site two days after the wind died, nearly two weeks after leaving the palace. The entrance to the pyramid had been sealed. The workmen toiled all day to remove the heavy stone block. Then the architect lit a torch and led the way up the narrow passageway to the burial chamber, where they found Apara lying dead in his queen’s raiment. “So soon?” Neferhotep thought. “How weak he must have been after being dragged through the sandstorm to have succumbed so quickly!” What had killed him – thirst, starvation, suffocation? Or perhaps he had died of despair.

Neferhotep showed no emotion and spoke in a steady voice. “Undress him, and have the embalmers prepare him for his journey to the next world. He will rest here forever, where he died.” Then, carrying the clothes the boy had died in, he left and went to sit under the canopy the workmen had raised for him at the entrance.

Slaves came with food, but he waved them away, lost in thought. The dust of the recent sandstorm hung heavy in the air. Khonsu rose blood red, bathing the unfinished pyramid in an eerie light.

Pharaoh’s mind was racing. Kemi must not find out he had had the body preserved to be buried in the pyramid he was building for himself. She would send her agents to steal it; she might even have them throw it to the crocodiles. Her spies were everywhere. No one must know, and the sarcophagus that housed Apara’s mummy must be disguised.

It was useless trying to figure out what to do next, so close to the lover he mourned. He would wait for his household and return with them by barque. Once back in the palace, he would decide on a course of action.

4. Nebankh

The annual flood had come and receded, and young shoots of grain carpeted the fertile mud in pale green. The Philistine army had twice marched on Egypt. The first time, Nebankh had met them in the Sinai desert and scattered them. They reassembled and launched another attack. When they retreated before Nebankh’s forces, he pursued them into Canaan and crushed them utterly.

Although Kemi’s promise to put him on the throne tempted him, Nebankh would not commit to a marriage with Nepensiret. He did not know if he should believe her claim that she was the true ruler of Egypt and Pharaoh a mere figurehead who lived far from Menfe, the seat of government and center of political activity. Still, he thought he would do well to see this Pharaoh before involving himself in what might be a gamble on her part. A determined figurehead can be a fearsome enemy.

When Nebankh agreed to visit what she called “Pharaoh’s pleasure palace near Gebtu”, Kemi considered the marriage as good as done, but not quite a fait accompli. To announce it prematurely would alert Neferhotep to her plans. For Nebankh to appear before Pharaoh as the conqueror of the Philistines and present him a victory tribute would provide the necessary cover. Once there, he could become Nepensiret’s lover and father her child, and all the pieces would fall into place. In the meantime, with the Nubian out of the way, her daughter’s position as Queen was secure. She sent a messenger to announce Nebankh’s arrival and entrusted him with a secret letter to Nepensiret that it was her he wanted to see.

*****

When Nebankh’s barque docked at the embankment late one afternoon, Nepensiret came out of the palace to greet him in the splendor of her royal finery, accompanied by her female slaves. Twelve years had passed since their last meeting, and what he saw appalled him. The plump, golden-skinned girl he had once courted had grown obese and her complexion pale and pasty. Although her smile was radiant, her questioning eyes bespoke vulnerability. They asked: “Do you still find me beautiful?”

A slave girl handed Nepensiret a goblet of cool date wine. She held it out to him and said, “I welcome my conqueror!”

“Where is Pharaoh?” he asked.

That he did not acknowledge her stung her deeply, but she quickly reassured herself. Neferhotep’s absence offended him. “My husband is in his private apartments,” she explained. “Tomorrow morning he will welcome you with proper ceremony before the full court. He has prepared rooms for you that befit Egypt’s most glorious hero.”

Nebankh turned to his retainers and ordered the tribute brought to his rooms. This Pharaoh felt secure of his authority. Either he was a fool or he wielded more power than Kemi suspected. Which, he would have to judge for himself.

“Will you sup with me tonight after you have rested?” Nepensiret asked.

“Not until I have paid Pharaoh my respects,” he answered. “It would be presumptuous to dine alone with his consort before I have done so.” Until he clearly understood his position he must seek both to ally himself with Pharaoh and take care not to alienate the woman who might be his steppingstone to the throne. “I shall go to Pharaoh this evening,” he told her, “and we shall have a late supper.”

Relieved, Nepensiret thought, “He is right to be cautious. We must not betray the true purpose of his visit. People will guess it soon enough.” She smiled at him and reentered the palace. Watching her mount the steps, Nebankh noticed a woman, also dressed as a queen, looking down at him from the balcony.

Fearing that if he asked to see Neferhotep, he would be told to wait until tomorrow, Nebankh went to the royal apartments uninvited. He identified himself to the guards at the door, who had him surrender his sword and stepped aside to let him enter. However, they barred the way to his escort and made no move to announce him.

He found himself in a room full of naked slaves, all of them male. There might have been thirty of them. In one corner, six naked musicians – two harps, an ugab, a set of bamboo pipes, a sistrum, and a tambourine – accompanied a naked singer chanting a hymn to the fertility god Min. Off to the side, holding a basin of soapy water, a naked slave stood beside two barbers, also naked. One of them was busy shaving a man’s head while the second knelt to shave the hair at the base of another’s belly. A line of slaves stood nearby, awaiting their turn. Still others sat in a circle playing at dice, while some played senet or mehen. Another sat cross-legged next to a pile of petals, a small mortar and pestle in his lap. Facing away from him, a very tall woman, whom he recognized by her clothes to be the one he had seen on the balcony, stood watching the dice players. He now saw that her shift reached only halfway down her calves.

Nebankh imagined himself in an anteroom where Pharaoh’s slaves could relax and amuse themselves until he called for them. “Where is Pharaoh?” he asked.

The woman turned and said, “I am he.”

Nebankh wondered if she was joking, but it was a man’s voice.

“What do you wish of me?” the woman continued. “Are you a messenger?”

It seemed wiser to let himself be made a fool of than to risk angering someone who might well be Pharaoh. Nebankh prostrated himself; then, rising to his knees, he said, “I am Nebankh. I arrived an hour ago.”

The woman motioned him to stand. “I’m glad you have come,” she said. “I was about to send for you. But you need a shave. Sit on the couch, and one of my barbers will attend to you. Would you like your body hair shaved, too?”

The glint in her eye left no doubt she wanted to see him naked. If she was Pharaoh and if Kemi thought his predilection for men alone proved he was a weakling, then she was making a serious error.

“Can I be sure I am speaking to Pharaoh and not his concubine?”

Neferhotep laughed, removed the wig, and, taking a false beard from the table, held it to his chin. He then ordered a slave to tell the cooks to prepare enough food for two.

“I promised to dine with the Queen tonight.”

“I shall let my sister know I’ve invited you to share my meal. No food will go to waste if she eats alone.”

Nebankh could not keep from smiling.

*****

After the general had gone, Neferhotep took off Apara’s clothes and went onto the balcony to gaze at the moon as his lover used to do. He reflected on the stupidity of military commanders. Their understanding of battle tactics did not apply to palace life. The man’s simplicity bored him, and he found him no more attractive than other men. He wasn’t fooled: he knew he had come there as Nepensiret’s suitor; he only wanted revenge. Still, their ridiculous flirtation had gone on nearly five hours and required some outlet. He went to the door and gently shook the sleeping Cheops by the shoulder. “Sleep with me tonight,” he whispered.

Nepensiret waited up for Nebankh until she could no longer hope he would come. She saw him the next morning, when he displayed the tribute plundered from the Philistines. Pharaoh gave him gifts in return. “The Queen and I are both eager for your company,” he said, “so I have decided that for the duration of your stay you will take your noon meal with her and dine with me in the evening. But today you shall banquet with all my court in the reception hall.”

Pharaoh then invited Nebankh to sit on the throne beside his and had him recount the details of his victory. Nepensiret stood behind them, fuming. She did not mind having to give up her throne for him. When they were married he would have the larger, more magnificent throne and she would sit next to him in the one he now occupied. But now she would have to wait another day before she saw him alone. And when would he share her bed if he spent every evening with her husband?

*****

Neferhotep was extremely attentive and did everything to keep his guest entertained. He took him hunting and sailing on the river and to visit the temples at Gebtu. And an excursion with Pharaoh meant missing lunch with Nepensiret. Instead of every day, she saw Nebankh only two or three times a week. She did not know from one day to the next if he would come. Late in the morning, after she had ordered their meal and made herself as pretty as possible, a messenger would arrive to tell her Pharaoh had invited Nebankh to do this or that. The next day Nebankh would apologize, and when she pouted, he would point out that he had no choice. One does not, may not, refuse an invitation from Pharaoh. It was up to her to ask Pharaoh not to invite him. But he did not suggest she do so.

If she scolded, “You don’t seem disappointed that you didn’t see me yesterday,” he would answer, “I am, but you know how much I love hunting” – or fishing or chariot racing or wherever he had gone with Pharaoh the day before. And her constant complaining only made him more eager to accept Pharaoh’s next invitation. “I am enjoying my stay immensely. My days are filled with every amusement a man could wish for.”

“Is that why you came here? To go on holiday?”

“You know why I came: to lay the spoils of war at Pharaoh’s feet.” Her moods were always unpredictable, one moment cajoling, petulant the next. With a wife like her and a mother like Kemi, it was small wonder Nefu found women irritating and had as little to do with them as possible.

*****

Nebankh bathed, put on a clean kilt, and set out for the royal apartments. He breathed easily in anticipation of a pleasant evening.

The musicians and dancers were assembled in the hall outside the door with Pharaoh’s personal attendants awaiting his summons. The guard nodded to Nebankh, and he entered. The barber had just finished his work and was carefully wiping his instruments. Nefu, not a hair left on him, was standing in a basin in the center of the room while the assistant sponged his body.

“I’m afraid I’m not quite ready to receive you, my friend,” he said casually. “The barber arrived not half an hour ago. No, don’t go. We’ll be done soon. I’m glad you got to see me like this. Just look how fit I am! I have you to thank for that. I didn’t get much exercise until you came. Come feel how strong my legs are.”

Tentatively, Nebankh approached.

“Not now,” Neferhotep laughed. “When I’m dry. Tell Cheops to bring wine. The towel, boy.”

When the barber’s assistant had dried him and tied on his loincloth, Neferhotep had Nebankh feel his thighs. “My upper arms, too. They’re hard as rocks. Well, what do you think?”

“That I would be happy if my soldiers had half your muscles.”

Neferhotep’s voice sank to a whisper. “I don’t want the slaves to hear this. I have a favor to ask you, something I would ask of no other man, but I hardly dare say it.”

“I shall do it.”

“But I haven’t spoken it yet.”

“It doesn’t matter. Whatever it is, I promise I shall do it.”

“You know the antipathy that exists between me and the Queen. I can’t stand the sight of her. I get the impression you can’t either.”

“The sight of her I can bear, but little else.”

“Still, I must father an heir. Because I have not, every year the people fear the flood will not come at the end of Akhet. I want you to make her pregnant. Of course nobody must know.”

Nebankh was stunned. It was what he had come there to do, but he did not relish doing it. “Will she agree to it?” he asked. “And how can we keep it secret?”

“She will lie with you if I command it, and the deed will take place in your room. With luck, you’ll only have to do it once. Her physician tells me she will be ready to conceive in two days. Invite us both to dine with you that evening.”

“I agree reluctantly, because you wish it and I would not go back on my word.”

“Do you think you can? The most magnificent raiment cannot make her beautiful. Would it help if you knew I was watching? Just say the word, and when I leave you alone with her, I shall go to a secret chamber above your room. There is a grate in the floor through which I can spy on you.”

“It may not help, but it will give me courage.”

*****

When she received the invitation, Nepensiret chose a gift for her host, a splendid neck collar of beaten gold. She spent the day trying to make herself attractive and nearly succeeded. Imagine her disappointment when she discovered he had invited her husband as well!

After they had been served, Pharaoh ordered the slaves to withdraw and explained his purpose to the Queen.

She frowned. “You are doing this to humiliate me.”

“I am doing it to make our mother happy. I thought it would make you happy, too. Could I have chosen anyone more worthy?”

“You humiliate me, not Nebankh.”

“You do want him, then?” The Queen nodded. “Then tell him so.”

She answered in a broken voice, “Yes.”

“In that case, I have no business being here. I will leave now and return in half an hour.”

From his hiding place, Neferhotep watched Nebankh mount his wife. She cried out and struggled to push him off. Then he whispered something in her ear. She lay still, and he took her in silence.

*****

Nepensiret lay on the couch wondering how long the pain would last. Her women said the second time was pleasurable. Nebankh, still naked, had gone to the table and poured himself a cup of wine. “Shall we do it again?” she asked timidly.

“We must not impose on Pharaoh’s generosity.”

Had he become her lover on Pharaoh’s orders, or had honesty compelled him to ask permission and her husband given his blessing? She got up and put on her clothes. Then she showed him the golden neck collar. “My gift to you,” she said.

“You are too generous. Pharaoh himself has not made me so lavish a gift.”

“Will you kiss me?”

He took her hand and kissed it, and she left.

A minute or so later, Neferhotep came into the room. “Have you done it?” he asked indifferently. “Did you fill her?”

“Yes.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“You know how an orgasm feels. Are you content? That’s all I care about.”

5. Apara

“I mean to travel to the first cataract to inspect the pyramid I’m having built for me and my queen,” Neferhotep said. “I would like you to see it, Nebankh. We leave tomorrow. There’s a sarcophagus that needs to be delivered. Dress splendidly, for you will be part of Pharaoh’s entourage when he inspects his pyramid. Wear the golden neck collar the Queen gave you.” The day before, he had received word from the embalmers that Apara’s body was ready for burial.

Early the next morning Neferhotep ordered the sarcophagus loaded onto his barque. Then he summoned the four priests who would perform the burial ceremony, and set sail for the first cataract.

They docked on the west bank south of the cemetery, across from the town of Swenet. Pharaoh sent the priests ahead to purify the burial chamber. The next morning a team of slaves came to haul the stone sarcophagus around the falls to the pyramid and then up the steep, narrow passage to the burial chamber and raise it onto the platform where it would rest. It would take several days.

When at length a messenger arrived to tell Pharaoh the sarcophagus was in place, he said to Nebankh, “We have one more task to complete, and I haven’t shown you my pyramid. Put on your best kilt and the Queen’s neck collar and we shall go.”

At the entrance to the pyramid was an ibu tent. The priests and the royal architect stood in a line in front of it. Inside, a mummy swathed in strips of white linen lay on a canvas sheet, and four embalmers held the canopic jars that contained the stomach, intestines, lungs and liver of the deceased. Neferhotep whispered to Nebankh, “Apara.”

The architect led them deep inside the pyramid – Pharaoh, Nebankh, two bodyguards with torches, the priests, the four embalmers with their jars, a fifth to carry the mummy, and twenty slaves to hoist the lid onto the sarcophagus.

The priests lit incense and prayed over each urn before the embalmers placed them on their pedestals. Then the embalmers wrapped the canvas around the mummy and lifted it into the open sarcophagus set on a platform painted with cheetahs and mongooses. Neferhotep turned to Nebankh, “Take off the collar my wife gave you and lay it on the dead boy’s chest. Her atonement gift for causing his death.”

The ceremony lasted three hours. A priest signaled the twenty workmen to turn the lid and slide it into place. When they saw what was painted on it, they were aghast. It showed a beautiful black-skinned woman holding the crook and flail, and the inscription: Queen Nepensiret, bride and sister of Almighty Pharaoh.

“Seal it and have done!” Neferhotep commanded. His bodyguards advanced, gripping their half-drawn swords, and the others obeyed. “I’m suffocating in here,” he said to Nebankh. “Light my way out,” and they hurried out of the burial chamber.

The soldiers stood threateningly by while the sarcophagus was sealed. Then they rushed forward and slaughtered everyone in the pyramid except the architect: priests, embalmers and slaves, chosen by Pharaoh to wait on Apara in the afterlife.

Their work accomplished, the soldiers wiped the blood from their swords and the three men headed down the corridor. A colossal stone block had been moved in front of the entrance, sealing them inside forever.

*****

Neferhotep sat on a gilded chair, conferring with his new architect. The crew bustled around them as they made ready to sail. Nebankh, still shaken by what had occurred in the tomb, waited anxiously in the cabin.

“I want a second burial chamber built for me,” Neferhotep explained, “above the first, but on the other side, to face the setting sun.”

The architect prostrated himself, kissed the king’s feet, and went ashore. Neferhotep scarcely noticed him take leave. His mind was elsewhere, planning how he would deal with Kemi.

# #

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Neferhotep I:

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({{Information |Description={{it|1=Statua di re Neferhotep I. Fayyum. XIII dinastia (ca. 1759-1640 a.C.), regno di Neferhotep I Microgabbro. Museo civico Archeologico di Bologna.}} |Source=Own work by uploader |Author=[[User:Bolo77|Stefano Bolognin)

Min 1 (color):

Wilkinson, Richard H. (2003). The complete gods and goddesses of ancient Egypt. London: Thames & Hudson.

Min 2 (relief):

Lietuvių: Autoriaus nuotrauka, 2006.04.14. Minas. Karnako šventykla, Kolonų salė. Nuotrauka gali būti platinama pagal GFDL licenciją.

(Both images of Min are under GNU & may be used at no cost)

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