Read Online The Twelfth Transforming by Pauline Gedge - Free Book Online

the gods showed him with complete disregard for his personal safety. His visions had made him great. Tiye could see him now, in this same little sanctuary, a place made unquiet by the constant moaning of the desert winds, his handsome head inclined over the cup in complete concentration, his arrogant face hidden by the falling locks of the strange, long-ringleted female wig he always wore. When he straightened to give his pronouncements there was never admiration or subservience for her in his eyes. Perhaps that was one reason I disliked him so , she mused, restless and uncomfortable in the continuing stillness. He could reduce me to the level of the lowest peasant with his glance, and it was worse because I knew he did not do so intentionally .
    The oracle covered the cup and turned, waving to his acolytes, and the boys sprang to roll up the mats that had shut out the sun. Light flooded the room, and Tiye blinked at the brilliant blue of the sky, the beige of the cliffs shimmering hot and vibrant. “Well?” she barked impatiently.
    “Your Majesty has nothing to fear,” he said, eyes downcast. “The birth will be normal and your life long.”
    “A normal birth can be hard and long or short and easy. What do you mean?”
    “I mean that you will give birth without complication.”
    “Is that all? What of the sex of the child? Did the gods show you?”
    He shrugged, holding out his hands, fleshy palms up. “No, Divine One.”
    Though she wanted to throw them at him, Tiye placed the gifts carefully at his feet. She left the temple without a word, her retinue behind her, striding out into the bird-clouded afternoon. Pausing only to gaze for a moment at the sphinx whose calm eyes looked out over the dusty houses of the dead and the brown expanse of the river far below, she stepped onto her litter for the long ride down the path that meandered to the valley floor. The Son of Hapu would not have been so craven , she brooded, blind to the invigorating, dry desert wind that lifted the silver-shot linen from her legs and whipped the ringlets of her wig to tangle in her cobra coronet. He would have given me the color of the child’s eyes as well as its sex and told me how many counts would go by before it uttered its first cry. I have just sacrificed three gold circlets and an amethyst bracelet to a man who, whatever happens, cannot be proved wrong. I wonder if Amunhotep fares better when he calls the Amun oracle from Karnak and demands to know how much longer he will live .
    The queen’s unexpected pregnancy caused little stir in Thebes. In the streets the beggars ceased to importune passersby and sat in the shade of the buildings taking bets on whether Egypt would have a new prince or princess. There were many citizens ready to put money into their scabrous hands, but the majority of Thebans simply shrugged and forgot the matter. The royalty who inhabited the brown sprawl of buildings across the river were of no concern. Malkatta was simply another tomb like those surrounding it, a tomb for living but never glimpsed gods. Only Pharaoh’s ministers with their perfumed linens and painted faces directly touched the fortunes of the populace, moving among them like screeching vultures intent on plunder. It was impossible to evince any interest in the birth of a child most of them would never see, to a woman who represented nothing against which the Thebans could measure their own experiences.
    In the palace, however, the subject was pounced upon, chewed, and spat out by the gossiping courtiers. The eyes of those who had turned speculatively toward a new king and a new administration were returned briefly to a pharaoh who had rallied with the promise of new life and a goddess who could yet surprise them. The court became sentimental. The worship of Mut, goddess mother of Khonsu and Amun’s consort, enjoyed a new vogue. Sculptors found themselves employment in carving coy representations of the infant Horus sucking at the breast