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But Aahmes-nefertari, seeing the glint of mutiny in her hooded eyes, knew that the words she spoke were not the ones churning in her mind. Presently Tetisheri left the dais, stalking through the lamplight in the direction of her quarters.
    “Forgive her, Ahmose,” Aahotep pleaded. “She grieves terribly for Kamose.”
    “Grief can excuse much, but not everything,” was all Ahmose replied.
    He continued to be absent a great deal, sometimes vanishing in the direction of the temple, sometimes walking with his ever-present guard of Followers to the barracks and the training ground. Several times in the month that followed, heralds arrived at the watersteps with messages for him, and Aahmes-nefertari, passing the closed door of the office, heard his voice interspersed with the rumble of other men’s tones. But she did not fret because she was excluded from their news. She had his confidence, and if anything of importance was reported to him she knew he would tell her at once.
    Rising late one morning, she requested that her first meal be brought to her in the garden, and after being bathed, dressed and painted she made her way to the pool, only to find Ahmose already there, lying on his back under a billowing canopy. Hent-ta-Hent was sprawled naked on his stomach, deeply asleep, one tiny thumb still resting between her half-open lips, her wisps of soft black hair stirring in the breeze. Ahmose had one hand across her chubby back to prevent her from slipping and with the other he was gesticulating at Hor-Aha who sat cross-legged beside him. They were surrounded by Ipi and three of his under-scribes, all bent industriously over their palettes. Ahmose-onkh, also naked, stood by the water under the watchful eye of a servant, his shaved head, but for the wet and bedraggled youth lock straggling to his shoulder, gleaming in the strong light. When he saw his mother coming over the grass, he toddled towards her beaming, palms cupped. “Look, look!” he exclaimed in his excited high treble. “This frog jumped onto my foot!” Squatting, Aahmes-nefertari kissed his round cheek and admired his catch.
    “But you must throw it back into the pond,” she cautioned him. “If you hold it too long its skin will become dry and hot and you will make it sick. It is special, Ahmoseonkh, and you must not harm it. Frogs are tokens of rebirth and we honour them.” He shrugged, already bored, and pouted, but he did as he was told, pausing on the edge of the pool to stroke the creature before tossing it carelessly away. It struck the water with scarcely a splash and Aahmes-nefertari, rising, saw it kick its way beneath the green spread of a lotus pad. She beckoned to the servant.
    “Braid his youth lock,” she said. “He looks very untidy. And put him in a loincloth. He is three years old now. He must become used to being dressed.” Ahmose had turned his head at her approach, smiling broadly, and Hor-Aha had come to his feet to reverence her.
    “Hor-Aha returned with his lists last night,” Ahmose said as she moved in under the shade of the canopy. “It was too beautiful a morning to waste in the gloom of the office, so I am listening to them out here. Later I must question the more senior men recommended myself, but I cannot move until Hent-ta-Hent wakes up.” He glanced fondly down at his daughter. “I think she is teething, Aahmesnefertari. She was dribbling and crying a great deal and the nursery servant could not calm her. What will you do today?”
    “I thought I might take a litter and go out beside the fields,” she replied. “I want to see how this season’s crops are growing.” Then she burst out laughing. “Ahmose, you look ridiculously domestic with a baby draped over your belly!” Hent-ta-Hent stirred at the sound, made little smacking noises, and half-opened her eyes before relaxing into slumber once more. The thumb that had been in her mouth slid out to rest on her father’s chest.
    “Yes, but the beat of my