Emheb copied the message on to a slip of papyrus, which he entrusted to Rascal so that the queen would be alerted quickly.
Ahhotep was hoping for a sign which would prove that Seqen’s soul had been reborn, but nothing came, even though all the rites had been carried out correctly. She could think of no other way to make contact with her husband.
As the days wore on, the beautiful young woman seemed to begin fading away, and no one could comfort her. However, she was still very attentive to her sons, who had been very shocked by their father’s death. Kames tried to forget his pain through weapons training with his instructors, while little Ahmose spent most of his time playing with his grandmother.
Thebes was sinking into sorrow. How long it seemed since the first days of the campaign to free Egypt!
Qaris, the head steward, steeled himself to approach the queen, who was sitting at the foot of the acacia-tree where she had placed her letter to Seqen.
‘Majesty, may I speak with you?’
‘From now on, silence is my country,’ said Ahhotep sadly.
4It is serious, Majesty, very serious.’
‘What could be more serious than the death of Pharaoh? Without him, we have lost our strength.’
‘Apophis has had scarabs engraved, announcing your death. If this false information spreads everywhere, the rebels will soon lay down their arms and the emperor will have won without a fight.’
Ahhotep looked even sadder. ‘Apophis is right. I am dead—to this world.’
The usually imperturbable Qaris lost his temper. ‘That is not true, Majesty, and you have no right to say it! You are Regent Queen of the Two Lands, of Upper and Lower Egypt, and you have sworn to carry on the work of Pharaoh Seqen.’
The queen smiled faintly. ‘An implacable enemy occupies the Two Lands. When he killed Seqen, he killed me, too.’
Suddenly Qaris gasped. ‘Majesty, your letter … It’s gone!’
Ahhotep stood up and looked at the branch to which she had attached the papyrus. Sure enough, the scroll was no longer there.
Qaris’s face lit up. ‘Pharaoh Seqen has received your message, Majesty. Isn’t this the sign you have been waiting for?’
‘Yes, but I need more than just that.’
She bent down to look at the clay statue of Osiris lying on his death-bed that she had laid at the foot of the tree. Ears of wheat had sprung forth from it. The sight of them took Ahhotep’s breath away and she almost fainted.
Qaris smiled even more broadly. ’Pharaoh Seqen has been reborn, Majesty. He lives for ever among the gods, and he will guide you in all you do.’
In Thebes itself, the rumours were spreading like wildfire. Some said that Queen Ahhotep was dead, others that she had lost her mind and from now on would live as a recluse within the temple at Karnak. Governor Emheb prepared himself to surrender and beg the emperor for mercy.
And then the good news was announced by Heray, Overseer of Granaries. Ahhotep was alive and in good health, and she would address her troops the following day, at dawn.
Many soldiers were sceptical, but when the sun rose in the east the queen emerged from the palace, crowned with a slender gold diadem and dressed in a long white robe. Her beauty and nobility were greeted with respectful silence.
‘Like this reborn sun, the soul of Pharaoh has been born again in the light. As regent queen, I shall continue the fight until Kames is able to command the army. I intend to remain absolutely faithful to the dead king. Therefore today, at Karnak, I have created the office of “Wife of God”, which I shall be the first to hold. I shall never remarry, and my only companion shall remain my husband, who rests in the secret heart of Amon. When Egypt is once again free, if I am still in this world I shall withdraw into the temple.’
6
Rascal and his small flock of carrier-pigeons had left Thebes in the early morning, bearing messages for the front. They announced that Queen Ahhotep was in perfect health and that the fight against the Hyksos was continuing. The order was given to destroy the scarabs spreading the Hyksos’ lies.
From now on, the military camp to the north of the City of Amon was no longer to be a secret. It was to become the official headquarters of the army of freedom, with its palace, its forts, its school for scribes, its barracks, its weapons workshops and stores, and its dwellings. A special detachment of soldiers protected Thebes, where no one now had any thoughts of collaborating with the Hyksos. Seqen’s sacrifice, his first victories and Queen Ahhotep’s bearing had restored the entire population’s taste for battle.
Using the silver mined from a rich seam she had discovered in the desert, and with her mother’s help, Ahhotep had set about bringing back royal dignity to the House of the Queen. The old institution was still a long way from its past splendour, but the official buildings in Thebes and at the military base were no longer decrepit and neglected. Under Qaris’s direction, skilled artists were working there again, scribes and craftsmen competing to see who could work most zealously.
The queen, her mother and Heray were standing before Qaris’s model of Egypt, which represented the whole country from the mouth of the Delta in the north to Elephantine in the south. When Ahhotep had seen it for the first time, only one place had been free of the occupying forces: Thebes. Today, although the situation was still far from good, it had improved a great deal.
‘Thebes, Elkab and Edfu,’ said Qaris, pointing to them on the model, ‘are the three towns we can rely on. Further south, Elephantine is under the control of the Nubians, allies of the Hyksos, and we must not forget the great Hyksos fortress of Per-Hathor, between Thebes and Edfu. To the north, very close to Thebes, Kebet is still not completely free. Titi, its governor, assures us that his network of rebels will be sufficient, but we’ll probably have to send him reinforcements. Much further north, Khmun is still the main Hyksos barrier. And then, of course, there’s the Delta, which is entirely under the emperor’s control.’
‘What is the latest news from the front?’ asked Ahhotep.
‘Thanks to our carrier-pigeons, we are in constant contact with Emheb, who has set up his front-line camp outside Qis. The Hyksos in the town can do little more than fire sporadic volleys of arrows, because the way our troops are deployed and occupy the terrain prevents them from launching a mass attack using chariots. ’
‘But why doesn’t Apophis attack us?’ asked the queen in astonishment.
‘If we wish to be optimistic,’ said Heray, ‘we must suppose that he has enough other problems to postpone until later dealing with the small one we present.’
‘Each day,’ added Qaris, ‘Emheb strengthens our hold on the front.’
‘What about supplies?’
‘They are secure, Majesty, because the peasants in the area have rallied to our cause. The networks of rebels set up by the Afghan and Moustache have proved extremely effective.’
The queen thought for a moment. Our weak point is still weapons, isn’t it?’
Qaris sighed. Tm afraid so. We have neither chariots nor those strange animals called horses, which pull them at an incredible speed.’
‘That doesn’t mean we must be satisfied with our ancient weapons,’ replied Ahhotep. ‘Summon all the craftsmen.’
In her left hand, the Regent Queen of the Two Lands held a wooden sceptre bearing the head of Set. In her right, she held the sacred Sword of Amon, a curved bronze blade covered with silver and inlaid with an alloy of gold and silver. Beside her, his face proud and solemn, stood her elder son. During his childhood he had been called Kames, but he now used his true name, Kamose.
‘With this sceptre,’ Ahhotep declared to the many assembled craftsmen, I shall measure Egypt when she is free. But, before we can carry out that peaceful task, we must use the sword the god of Thebes has given us. With it, I consecrate my elder son as war-commander, not for death but for life. May this ray of light illuminate his thoughts and give him his father’s courage.’
Ahhotep touched Kamose’s forehead with the poi
nt of the Sword of Amon. The light that flashed from the blade was so dazzling that those watching had to close their eyes.
The look in the boy’s eyes suddenly changed, as though his consciousness had been opened to realities whose existence he had never suspected before. ‘In the names of Pharaoh and of the Queen of Freedom,’ he vowed, so solemnly that a shiver ran around the watching throng, ‘I swear to fight to my last breath so that Egypt may become herself again and joy may once more fill the hearts of her people. Until I have accomplished my task, I shall not allow myself a single moment’s rest.’
Kamose kissed the Sword of Amon and prostrated himself before the queen. Childhood had just died within him. Ahhotep raised him to his feet and he again took his place at her side.
Turning back to the craftsmen, the queen said, ‘Everyone knows the enemy’s weapons are much better than ours. It is up to you, the craftsmen of Thebes, to redress the balance. You are to make new spears, longer and with sharper bronze heads, and new wooden shields, also strengthened with bronze. In future, the footsoldiers’ heads are to be protected by helmets and their chests by thick copper breastplates. Axes, clubs and daggers must be of better quality. And our best troops will be equipped with curved swords similar to the Sword of Amon. In hand-to-hand fighting, with these weapons and our will to win, we shall be better than the Hyksos. Now, craftsmen, to work!’
Her words were greeted with resounding cheers.
‘What an amazing woman,’ commented Moustache, who had hung on her every word.
‘She has that power you call magic,’ said the Afghan. ‘And those eyes … With them she could conquer anyone.’
‘I’ve already told you: whatever you do, don’t fall in love.’
‘Why not?’
‘You had no chance before, Afghan, but you have even less now that Queen Ahhotep has become the Wife of God. From now on, no man can go near her.’
The Afghan frowned. ‘She’s far too beautiful to accept a fate like that.’
‘She herself chose it. As you can see, she does not lack character or determination.’
‘All the same … Remember when we first became rebels? You thought defeating the Hyksos was impossible, too.’
‘To be frank, I still do. Ahhotep makes our heads spin, and sometimes we almost forget the imbalance in our forces. But that doesn’t matter. She gives meaning both to our lives and to our deaths.’
*
To strengthen the front, Ahhotep had decided to use the heka, the magic, light-born power whose guardian she had become when she travelled to Dendera with Seqen. The most intense heka was that of the sacred city of Iunu, which was in Hyksos hands, but the one she had would serve to keep the enemy pinned down, at least for a little while.
In the shrine of Mut, at Karnak, a priestess made wax figures representing Hyksos soldiers, tied up and unable to do any harm. On red bowls, Ahhotep wrote the name of Apophis and ancient incantations ordering the serpent of destruction to spit its venom and attack him. Then the figures were put into the bowls, which were held over a brazier.
‘May breath enter these figures,’ she chanted, ‘and may it burn them. May the wax, born of the bee, symbol of the royalty of Lower Egypt and the Delta, become our ally.’
The flames crackled, the hideous faces of the Hyksos melted out of shape, and Ahhotep smashed the red bowls.
‘May I speak with you privately, Majesty?’ asked Qaris as the queen was leaving the temple.
‘You look worried. Is there bad news from the front?’
‘No, it’s nothing like that. But I have done a great deal of thinking, and there are certain conclusions I cannot keep to myself. You alone must hear them.’
Qaris was a plump fellow, with round cheeks and a calm temperament, who usually managed to radiate good humour, even at the most difficult times. Ahhotep had never seen him so anxious.
‘May we walk a little further away, Majesty? No one must hear what I am about to tell you.’
They went on to the landing-stage outside the temple, and walked along to the end.
‘The enemy without is formidable,’ declared Qaris, ‘but the enemy within is no less so. Fortunately, Heray has rid us of collaborators, and the people are now devoted to you. Moreover, Thebes now realizes that there is no going back and that we must see the adventure through to its conclusion: destruction or freedom.’
‘I know all this. Are you worried that support for collaboration will re-emerge?’
Qaris shook his head. ‘No. Heray is too vigilant, and Thebes will not take a backward step, I am convinced of that. This is about something else, something equally serious.’ The steward’s mouth was dry. ‘For many years, my main task has been to collect information and to extract what is important. Of course, I have closely studied the reports concerning the tragic death of Pharaoh Seqen.’
Ahhotep halted in her tracks. ‘Have you found something amiss?’
‘Majesty, I am convinced that your husband fell into a trap. The Hyksos were waiting for him at that place. They knew how to isolate him and were able to murder him because they had received information from someone very well informed.’
‘You mean … Are you saying there is a traitor among us?’
‘I have no absolute proof, but that is indeed what I believe.’
Ahhotep raised her eyes to the heavens. This was one treacherous blow she had not foreseen. ‘Have you anything more solid than suspicion, Qaris?’
‘No, Majesty, and I hope I am wrong.’
‘If you are right, all my principal decisions must be kept secret.’
‘As secret as possible, yes. And I would advise you not to trust anyone.’
‘Not even you?’
‘I have nothing to offer you but my word, Majesty.’
7
The destruction of the last Egyptian burial-ground in Avaris provoked an unexpected revolt - by elderly widows and widowers.
In desperation, they gathered together to march on the citadel and protest against the emperor’s decision. The stunned guards watched open-mouthed as this tide of harmless folk poured in, many walking with difficulty. A few spears were enough to halt them.
‘Go home at once,’ an Anatolian officer ordered them. ‘We want to keep our burial-ground,’ protested an old man in his eighties, leaning on his stick. ‘My wife, my parents, my grandparents and my great-grandparents are all buried there, and it’s the same for most of us Egyptians. Our dead pose no threat to the security of the empire, as far as I know.’
Orders are orders.’
With silent determination, the protestors sat down. Killing them all would be no problem, but the officer decided to consult his superior.
Old men?’ exclaimed Khamudi.
They refuse to go home, my lord, and they want the emperor to see them.’
‘Haven’t these imbeciles realized yet that times have changed? Are they noisy?’
‘No, not at all. How would you like me to execute them?’
‘Execute them? I have a better idea. Go and fetch the lady Aberia. I am going to ask for the emperor’s permission.’
Aberia was using her enormous hands to indulge in her favourite pastime: strangling people. For the moment, she had to content herself with a gazelle, whose finest cuts would be served at Apophis’s table. But it was much less entertaining than wringing the neck of an enslaved Egyptian noblewoman. Thanks to the emperor’s wife, Lady Aberia had no lack of prey, some terrified, others fighting back. Her thirst for vengeance was unquenchable, and Apophis approved of this policy of terror, which deterred the defeated from resisting him.
‘My lady,’ said the officer, ‘the High Treasurer wishes to see you urgently.’
Aberia felt a frisson of pleasure. Knowing Khamudi, there must be exciting work in store. She hurried to Khamudi’s office.
‘Who are they, this herd of old men?’ she asked as soon as she arrived.
‘Dangerous rebels,’ replied Khamudi.
‘Dangerous? Them?’ scoffed
Aberia.
‘Much more dangerous than you think. Those old men and women embody harmful traditions and are passing them on to younger generations. They cannot stay in Avaris, because they’re setting a bad example. Their place is somewhere else, far away from here.’
The lady Aberia’s interest was beginning to stir. ‘And it would be my task to … see to it?’
‘Near our rearward base in Palestine, at Sharuhen, there are marshy areas where a prison camp could be set up.’
‘An ordinary prison camp, or a place of killing?’
‘Whichever you wish,’ said Khamudi.
The strangler now regarded her prisoners in a quite different light. ‘You are right, High Treasurer. They are indeed dangerous rebels, and I shall treat them as such.’
The procession took the path that ran eastwards along the lakes. Seated comfortably in a chair carried by bearers, Aberia forced her team of slaves to march as fast as possible, and granted them only a short halt and a little water every five hours.
The stamina of these old Egyptians astonished her. Only a few had collapsed since the beginning of the journey, and Aberia had not allowed anyone else to take care of wringing their necks. Their remains would be feasted on by vultures and other scavengers. Only one prisoner had tried to run away, and he had been instantly killed by a Hyksos guard. The others kept on walking, step after step, under a burning sun.
If anyone weakened, the strongest supported him as best they could and helped him along. From time to time, someone’s heart gave out. The corpse was abandoned beside the road, unburied and unmourned. The first man who asked for more water was whipped to death, so the old people kept on walking without complaint, watched delightedly by Aberia, who was already thinking of organizing other journeys like this.
‘You must not lose hope,’ said a seventy-year-old to one of his companions in misfortune. ‘My son belongs to a network of rebels, and he told me that Queen Ahhotep is in command of an army of liberation.’
War of the Crowns Page 3