Thebes

1357 BC

AMENHOTEP THE MAGNIFICENT knocked back a stiff jolt of red wine as he shuffled into the sunlit throne room.

Once upon a time the pharaoh had been lean and muscular, a warrior feared throughout the known world. He was also said to have had sexual relations with more than five hundred consorts and concubines.

Now he was “prosperous,” which was a polite way of saying that his great belly preceded him wherever he went.

“You’ll get fat from all that wine,” cooed Tiye, his queen and favorite wife-possibly because she had a sense of humor that matched his own.

“Too late.” Amenhotep slurred his words noticeably. “At least a dozen years too late.”

Just back from a morning of sailing, Tiye had entered from the main hall without fanfare, her sandaled feet quietly slapping the tile floor. The queen had full lips, a pleasingly ample bosom, and wore a white linen dress with vertical blue stripes that was cinched at her narrow waist.

They both knew why she’d come to see him today.

“Pharaoh,” she said, standing over him, “we must talk. This one time you must listen to a woman, my love. You must.”

Amenhotep pretended to ignore his queen. He thought about swabbing a little opium on his abscessed teeth, just to take the edge off, and then maybe having a nap before dinner. No. First a visit to the lovely Resi over at the harem for a midafternoon romp, then sleep. Resi had an even larger bosom than Tiye, and she was a better actress in bed. Amenhotep got a happy feeling just thinking about the whore.