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The tricky part was to convince the king of that and not offend him in the process.
When they arrived at the king’s establishment, she saw that it was indeed a mighty, walled city. Beyond the walls, upon the high, rolling hills that dotted the landscape, she could see giraffes and elephants roaming freely. Only here in Punt, “gods’ land,” did such extraordinary creatures exist.
Within, even more exotic luxuries abounded.
The inner courtyard was decorated in the same bold colors as the clothes and adornments these people wore. A large garden with lush green grass and rows of beautiful, mushroom-like myrrh trees captured center attention.
Heba had read about them in her tradesmen’s accounts when they brought back news from faraway lands. The trees were even more impressive in person, their twisting limbs reaching toward the sky.
The king led her to his main hall, which was paved with red granite, though not smoothly polished like the buildings and monuments Heba constructed back home. The Puntites were not as sophisticated with their artistry and perfectionism. They built things for practicality, not as tribute to the gods.
But the floors were clean and newly swept, and the fur-covered stone furniture that the king bade her recline upon was comfortable enough. A large table piled with exotic meats, fruits, cheeses and bread beckoned for a taste. Large pitchers of wine, milk and honeyed water invited a drink.
Shai and his warriors stood against the walls like the shadows they were, giving Heba and the king a false sense of privacy. His personal guards stood against the opposite wall, fully armed and far more conspicuous. They kept their hands upon the hilts of their swords and daggers at all times.
The king and Heba chatted for a while about inconsequential things—the weather, their voyage, whether the sea was rough, whether the winds favored them.
When Heba sensed the king’s impatience to get to the heart of the negotiation, she spoke before he could.
“King Parahu, may I suggest a few moments alone to discuss more intimate matters between us?” she asked prettily.
“Our officials and guards need not hear the conversation between a man and a woman, though they may witness the exchange between two regents, wouldn’t you agree?”
This, she offered with a coaxing smile.
The king considered her in silence with unreadable black eyes.
Finally, he said, “Of course, Khnumetamun Hatshepsut. Let us converse alone for a spell.”
The officials and the unnamed lady left first, with Senenmut giving her an encouraging look. Next went the warriors, with the last being Shai.
For the brief moment their eyes met, she revealed nothing on her face to anyone who might be looking. But she knew that he knew what she promised in her eyes.
Clenching his jaw, he left her alone with the king as well, though she knew that at the slightest threat to her, he would come rushing in. He was never far.
“Now then,” the king began when they were completely alone.
“What did you wish to tell me that could not be heard by other ears?”
Chapter Fourteen
“In the garden of memory, in the palace of dreams... that is where you and I shall meet.”
—Lewis Carroll
Heba decided that directness was the best option.
The king appeared to be a reasonable man, if one’s looks could accurately portray one’s inner thoughts.
He had lines that fanned out from the corners of his eyes. Perhaps from squinting against the brilliant sun, or perhaps from laughter. In Heba’s experience, people who laughed often were more reasonable than people who didn’t.
“I will not marry you, King Parahu,” she said firmly, pausing to let her words sink in.
He leaned back slightly in his seat at that, as if her bluntness was a shock.
“Ah,” was all he said.
“I do not wish to marry you,” she elaborated. “I believe we are better met as friends.”
