“Y-yes,” Neff added, playing along. “I’m afraid I got lost. I’m new.”
Her rescuer bobbed his head. “The temple does take some getting used to!”
Herihor lifted his mask, revealing a narrow, pinched face. He regarded the small man with more deference than Neff would have expected. “Your… assistant,” he repeated, as if the words were foreign to his tongue.
“Indeed!” the small man said with an air of finality. “Now, I must beg forgiveness for interrupting your…” He craned his neck to peer inside the chamber, and Neff followed suit. The two other priests stood ramrod straight and silent. The serpent staff was nowhere to be seen. “Communion with Heka. Amun knows how important it is to get everything exactly right. It won’t happen again.”
Herihor’s gaze flicked from the small man to Neff and back. Finally, he nodded and released his grip.
The small man bowed his head, and Neff followed suit.
“We’ll be on our way, then,” he said, and handed her thebundle of wrappings. “Good day to you, Herihor.”
The priest bowed his head in return. “And to you, Prince Bakenamun.”
Neff’s eyes widened, but she said nothing, then hurried to follow the small man up the corridor and back into the temple proper.
Like everyone in Khetara, she knew of the king’s triplets. The tale of their divine birth, attended by the gods themselves, was one told to many children by their mothers as they lay down to sleep. Prince Mery and Princess Sita were more well-known, as they were the ones sent to greet the people during holy days and festivals, but Prince Kenna, their estranged brother, was more of a mystery. Neff had once heard the papyrus seller at the Bubas market say that Bakenamun had rejected palace life in favor of serving the gods as a Sem priest—not a high priest, but an embalmer. Her father had rejected the gossip as ridiculous.
I guess the papyrus seller was right.
Even still, the small man didn’t seem like a prince. It was as if he tried to take up as little space as possible and was accustomed to going unnoticed. But whether or not he looked or behaved like a prince, hewasa prince. If he had been anyone else, Neff had a feeling that the Heka priest wouldn’t have let her go unpunished.
“Thank you, m-my prince,” she mumbled, suddenly uncertain how to behave. “I’m very grateful for your help.”
Prince Kenna shrugged. “I have a soft spot for misfits, considering I am one myself. You’re Montuhotep’s new novice, are you not?” He scoffed. “Someone in your position needs all the help she can get.”
“How did you know?” Neff asked, taken aback. “I only just arrived.”
“Oh, it’s simple, really. Very simple. First, I saw one of Montuhotep’s servants running to his quarters with a jug of wine, and the high priest only drinks when he’s upset. Second,it’s clear from the state of your skin that you have just come from the Wabet, which means you’re newly arrived. Third, you have freckles—leading me to believe you spend a lot of time in the sun. Probably not an upper-class girl. Daughter of an artisan? Or a merchant, perhaps? Quite an unusual choice for the priesthood. So, a common girl is initiated into the priesthood at the same time that Montuhotep—who does not like children—is driven to drink.” He shrugged. “I put two and two together.”
He must have noticed the apprehension on Neff’s face, because he continued. “Montuhotep is more bark than bite, and most of the other priests are too busy with their work to give you a hard time. Still, you must be more careful in the future.” He waggled a long, skinny finger at her. “I won’t always be around to get you out of trouble.”
Neff nodded, amazed at the prince’s powers of deduction. He didn’t seem to fit with the priests she’d seen so far, so serious, elegant, and pure. He was a vulture among herons, a bit off-putting, but probably just misunderstood.
Also, unlike the other priests she’d met, Prince Kenna made her feel safe.
When they reached a fork in the corridor, the prince stopped. “You can hand back those wrappings now. Head over there and make a left. You should get back to Montuhotep before he works up too much of a temper.”
Neff looked down at the wrappings and found that she didn’t want to give them back. Doing so would mean her business with the prince would be finished.
“Do you… really need an assistant?”
The prince blinked. “That was a bit of a fabrication,” he said, apologetic. “I do most of my work alone. Most people find it… unpleasant.”
Neff imagined sharpened blades and dead bodies andswallowed, feeling a little sick. Yet anything was better than being alone.
“I could help with that,” she offered, trying not to sound forced.
“I don’t know,” the prince said. “Montuhotep will need you for lessons, and he’ll surely send you all over the temple running errands for him. He does that with the novices. You won’t have much free time. I doubt you’ll want to spend it with me.”
He started to turn away, and Neff’s heart sank. Then she remembered her father’s words.You give up too easily. All that customer needed was a little more convincing!
Don’t let him go, Neff thought to herself.His mouth is saying no, but his heart is shouting yes!
“I like keeping busy,” she blurted. “Whenever I’m not with Montuhotep, I could come and help you, fetch you things. Whatever you need!”
Prince Kenna stopped midturn and regarded her with interest. “And what would you ask of me in return?”
