Story inspired by a photo by Crispina Kemp.
I created the plot based on true characters.
The body was found at dawn, floating face-down in the sacred pool of Amun.
Vizier Amenhotep, beloved counselor to the Pharaoh, collector of debts and secrets, had not drowned. Isetnofret knew this the moment she knelt at the water’s edge. Water doesn’t leave fingerprints.
She might never have approached at all, had the geese not raised the alarm.
The three pa-geret who patrolled the temple grounds were older than most of the priests. The broad-chested male, his rust-colored eye patches dark as dried blood, stood sentinel at the pool’s edge every morning without fail. Nothing passed him unnoticed. At the first grey light, his honking had torn through the sanctuary’s silence like a blade …. urgent, insistent, impossible to ignore. The other two had joined immediately, their clamor rolling through the columns until even the sleeping gods seemed to stir.
Isetnofret had followed the sound. She always trusted the geese.
She rose now, smoothed her linen robe, and said nothing.
As High Priestess of Mut, she occupied a peculiar position in the royal court …. powerful enough to be feared, holy enough to be underestimated. Men spoke too freely around women who burned incense for a living. It was, she had long decided, her greatest advantage.
She already knew who had done it. The knowledge sat in her chest like a stone.
Three nights ago, she had heard the Vizier’s voice through the cedar doors of the inner sanctum …. low, conspiratorial, urgent. He was speaking to someone about Prince Thutmose, the Pharaoh’s youngest brother. About an army in the eastern desert. About a succession that would not wait for nature to take its course.
She had also heard the second voice and recognized it instantly. She wished, with everything she had, that she hadn’t.
Now, as palace guards swarmed the pool’s edge and servants wailed with practiced grief, she watched the crowd carefully. Everyone was looking at the body.
Everyone except one person.
The Royal Treasurer, Horemheb, stood at the far column, his expression composed to precisely the right degree of sorrow. His eyes, however, moved quickly …. scanning, measuring. When they landed on Isetnofret, they stopped.
She held his gaze to the count of three, then looked away first …. deliberately, submissively …. and watched relief flicker across his face.
Good. Let him think she was no threat.
Behind her, the great sentinel goose had fallen silent at last. He stood motionless at the water’s edge, amber eye fixed on the Horemheb with an unblinking, ancient gaze.
Even the birds, it seemed, knew a guilty man.
Isetnofret almost smiled. She had powerful allies and fifteen years of carefully gathered secrets.
She collected patience. And apparently, so did the geese.
NAR©2026
Nancy’s Notes: Native to sub-Saharan Africa and the Nile Valley, Egyptian geese have been revered since antiquity. Despite their name, they are actually members of the shelduck family rather than true geese. Famous for their rich mythology and domestication in ancient times, they have since spread globally as ornamental birds and established wild populations.
This is “Egypt (The Chains Are On” by DIO
Everything seen here was created by me, unless otherwise indicated. Thanks for your consideration. NAR©2017-present.
The Elephant's Trunk 
A very interesting story dear sis.
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