Free Daughter of the Gods by Stephanie Thornton

disappeared.
    A train of Anubis’ priests filed up the sandy path, laden with trays of food and all the other accoutrements necessary for the funeral feast. The priests erected awnings for the royal family so they could enjoy their meal in honor of Osiris Tutmose in relative comfort while the pharaoh awaited his final judgment.
    Hatshepsut sat on a linen blanket and attempted a bite of roast gazelle—her father’s favorite food—from the bowl she and Thut shared. It tasted like sawdust.
    “Admiral Pennekheb has returned to court. He tells me the provincials in Nubia are getting restless,” Thut said, as if commenting on the weather. Yet he twisted the gold bangle at his wrist so hard that Hatshepsut feared it might leave a mark.
    “Restless? Is it an insurrection?” Hatshepsut asked. This was precisely what Senenmut had predicted and had sought to avoid with his plan for Egyptian monuments and a new viceroy for Nubia, plans waylaid by her father’s death. She hadn’t seen Senenmut since that night, or had the opportunity to speak with Thutmosis about the possibility of a revolt; Senenmut must have neglected to mention the concern to her brother. Annoyance at the
rekhyt
’s incompetence flared, but she quashed it. She’d deal with him later.
    “Do we need to send a division south?” she asked.
    Thut stared at her for a moment, then tore a piece of gazelle off its bone and chewed, his mouth open slightly. “It’s just a small group causing problems.”
    “Is it serious?”
    “I don’t know.” Her brother’s tone was sharper than usual. “Sending a division or two should take care of it.”
    “I certainly hope so.” Hatshepsut eyed him carefully. If the problem in Nubia was serious, Egypt would need to act swiftly, or the gold shipments would be disturbed, not to mention the havoc that instability would wreak on the southern border.
    Lost in thought, Hatshepsut didn’t notice that Thut had fallen asleep—still sitting up—until his head dropped to her shoulder. The poor man was exhausted. She shifted on the blanket so he wouldn’t fall forward and call attention to himself. Mutnofret caught her eye and winked.
    Then Hatshepsut realized there was a way for her to escape the Hall of Women. She chewed her thumbnail, her mind spinning the plan as Thut dozed. It might work, as long as she played her part right.
    The remnants of the feast were packed up and taken into Osiris Tutmose’s tomb so the former Pharaoh could enjoy his favorite foods as he settled into the afterlife. Hatshepsut watched with a heavy heart as the priests slid shut the massive stone door to the tomb and sealed it for all eternity as the black line of the horizon swallowed Re.
    It was done. Now it was time to rejoin the land of the living.
    •   •   •
    They didn’t have to seek out Admiral Pennekheb. As soon as the royal barque neared the dock Hatshepsut saw Egypt’s most senior military expert waiting with Senenmut, his cedar walking stick in one hand and a torch in the other.
    That could mean only one thing: the situation in Nubia was dire. It took an eternity for the ship to make it to shore and then for the rowers to tie it to the dock. Ordinarily Hatshepsut wouldn’t have wasted such precious time, preferring to jump ashore before the crew finished with the rigging, but the citizens of the City of Truth lined the shores, their eager faces lit by torchlight, all yearning for a rare glimpse of the royal family. Protocol must be observed. Hatshepsut couldn’t go bolting off the ship, no matter how much she wished to.
    Finally, the boat was secure. The instant her feet hit the ground, the two advisers fell into step behind Hatshepsut and Thut.
    “Per A’a
.” Pennekheb didn’t miss a beat as he spoke to the fledgling pharaoh. “We must proceed with sending the army to settle things in Nubia. They’ve murdered Governor Turi. The Egyptian colonists in the area have taken refuge in a fortress built by your father.