‘She seems to have become friendly with the Queen and refused to kill her baby.’
‘Whose names has she given?’
‘Only the other nurse. We’ve always made sure they only knew of each other and no one else in the network.’
‘So we still have a chance, with the back-up plan?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then don’t waste time. The bastard child of that whore could be born at any time.’
Tiye went into labour, tightly and heavily guarded by hand-picked Braves of the King. A wet nurse, from the estate of Yuya was on hand. When Thutmose was born, he was rushed from the Palace, placed on a boat with the wet nurse and guards. He travelled, under cover of reeds and darkness, to Yuya’s estate. There he stayed for a year, protected from hostile priests and hired assassins. The murderous monastic plan failed.
The High Priest died soon afterwards, unexpectedly and mysteriously. He had already nominated his successor. Nahkt was disappointed it was not he, but grudgingly accepted that the high noble birth of the present High Priest made him a better fit for the political nature the role required.
Nahkt’s plan had failed, but the one he was hatching now, would not. The rebellion in Kush, which led to the death and post-mortem mutilation of his Nubian bodyguards’ father, was basis enough for hatred. They would be the ideal candidates to carry out an assassination. They may not survive the attack and if that were so, it would be a pity, but he could always find other bodyguards. Their loss would be an acceptable price to pay. He called them in. He outlined his plan, then told them to go, to scout the road and find a suitable place to carry out the attack.
The two Nubians, on hearing the news of this new task, looked at each other; both grinned enthusiastically. This was the opportunity they had been waiting for. Ever since their departure from Nubia, they had hoped for such an occasion. Their work could be completed and they could once again be free. They left the house in good humour, hoping to return at least once more to this place but didn’t really care if that happened or not. Revenge would be reward enough.
*
At the Palace, Haqwaset was in conference with Yuya, Mahu, Meri-bes and Tiye. The discussion was about how to deal with the tomb robbers. Mahu, the chief of security, was the first to speak.
‘My information is they have started the digging. The position of the tomb entrance, at the head of the valley and at the top of a high vertical face, is very difficult to reach and it would be impossible to launch an attack without being seen. Furthermore they are well protected by a group of archers. Any attempt to approach would be met with an attack from the bowmen, giving the robbers time to escape across the back of the mountains. This is a well-co-ordinated, extremely well financed operation.’
‘There must be something we can do,’ stated Haqwaset, showing signs of irritability. ‘Are they at the tomb twenty-four hours? Can we not set up a force to greet them when they arrive?’
‘My spies tell me, they are there permanently,’ continued Mahu. ‘They are well organised, fresh water and supplies are brought to them under cover of night. Anyone arriving gets no further than the bottom of the cliff face where the supplies are passed up in baskets and hauled from the top. Like I said it’s a well-managed, well supplied operation.’
‘How far have they got with the digging?’ asked Tiye.
‘According to my reports they have broken through the doorway but are having trouble negotiating their way around the well. Already two of their number have fallen to their deaths, not entirely accidentally I must add. My men in their team are not afraid of doing anything to delay them, but they must be careful and have to work as hard as the others. These deaths have slowed them down but it won’t be more than a week before they reach the treasure. The riches will be such that they are unlikely to delay long.’
‘So be it. We can’t do anything until after the Festival. I have many official duties where I must be seen. I want to witness these sacrilegious animals brought to justice. However, we need to stop the work.’
‘There might be a way,’ said Meri-Bes.
‘How?’
‘If we send a small team of tomb diggers to start another tomb at the bottom of the cliff face. Get one of your men, working with the robbers, to make enquiries of the new digging team and get a message back to the robbers that their work is to try and see if a tomb is possible. They will be working for about a week, excluding the two days of the festival, and then will have to report their findings to the Overseer. Have some of the guards accompany them so they’ll be safe from attack. Hopefully it will be enough to deter those working above until we are ready to deal with them.’
‘A good idea, Meri-Bes.’
‘I’ll deal with it immediately,’ Mahu said, as he bowed and left the room.
‘Are you sure it’s right for you to get personally involved, husband?’
‘Right thing or not, Tiye, I’m going to. My father did everything he could to bring prosperity to all living in the Two Lands, I’ve tried to continue my father’s work and, with the continuing help of Yuya, I believe I have achieved this, perhaps more. However, it’s not sufficient for some people. They are not content with enough; they must have more and more. People like the half-priest Nahkt, are no better than worms which infest a body. They suck out the goodness, weaken and ultimately destroy their host. They offend the gods, they offend me and I will not tolerate their continuing existence. If it were not for this damnable festival I would do something today.’
When Haqwaset was in this mood, it paid not to interfere. No-one did.
‘I’m hungry,’ said Yuya, successfully diffusing the situation. ‘Let’s eat.’
The news, of the delay in the works, reached Nahkt early the next morning. He was not happy. He had sent several messages to Djoser asking to see him, but the messengers returned, reporting he was away. Nahkt was unsure whether to believe the information. Djoser hadn’t mentioned going away. His suspicious nature made him feel uneasy, but this passed as his anger grew.
‘If only Tawy hadn’t fallen out with her family. She could have gone and made discrete enquiries.’
He had asked her last night if she’d heard from her brother.
‘He is a law unto himself. He will contact us, or you, when he wants to and not before. I’m grateful I haven’t been completely abandoned by my family and he, at least, keeps in touch,’ she said.
‘Don’t you think it’s about time you made your peace with your family?’ asked Nahkt.
‘If ever that is to happen they’ll need to make the first move, particularly my father. Reconciliation must start with forgiveness. It wasn’t my fault. I was raped. It wasn’t enough for my father to see the priest, who did it, hanged and fed to the vultures. If I didn’t have my work here in the Temple, and this house to stay in, I don’t know what would have happened to me.’
‘It has been my pleasure Tawy,’ Nahkt said.
‘Husband do not pretend to flatter me. We know each other too well. It was a business proposition from the High Priest, to try and limit the damage his protégé had caused, bringing shame on the Temple of Amun, by raping a child. I was only ten years old. You were paid to offer me protection and a home for my son. As a result of the circumstances of his making I’ve never been able to love him and he’s grown into the image of you in character. I’m grateful to you Nahkt, you have performed your duty, but don’t expect me to ever love you, or even respect you, or the child I gave birth to.’
In all the years they had been together Tawy had never once referred to Amenemopet as her son. Nahkt wondered if on the way to the afterlife she would regret this. In their tomb, being prepared by Djoser and now, not too far from completion, he had commissioned references to Amenemopet being ‘her son’. He hoped this wouldn’t cause problems for him in the afterlife, it was true after all.
Nahkt heard nothing from his two Nub
ians; they must surely have organized the ambush by now. Maybe it was too soon. He hated not having information. No news about when the work on the dead King’s tomb would recommence, no news on the assassination of Merymose, no news about Djoser, everything together was making him anxious. When he was nervous he drank wine until he could no longer stand, with the hope that when he awoke, everything would have been resolved. This is what he set about doing, calling for one of his servant girls, to bring the wine, and to keep him company while he drank it.
*
On the road to the south and heading calmly towards Waset were the carriages of the Viceroy’s train. It was an easy journey without care. The soldiers walking in the front of the first carriage were chatting. They didn’t worry the gap between them and the carriage was growing slightly with each step. Not too far, maybe forty or fifty paces, but they would stop soon and everything would catch up. Why should they worry? They were safely in the area of Waset; there was no danger here.
They could not see around the next corner. They could not see the two dark skinned men crouching behind the rocks, heavily armed. The soldiers were enjoying the march.
Behind them, was light-hearted, animated chatter. Maiherpri and Amunitore were walking alongside the carriage which conveyed his mother. There had been great excitement, the evening before, when the young Nubian arrived, on his chariot, the beautiful girl by his side. They were enthusiastically welcomed, particularly by his mother, Merkare, who hugged him so tightly and for so long he thought the breath would be squeezed out of him.
Maiherpri was Merkare’s youngest son and although she had daughters, younger than him, he was her special child. Perhaps it was because they had been forced to separate when he was so small so as to protect him, maybe it was because he, above all the children, reminded her most of his father, Merymose. Of course his skin colour was different, he had inherited her dark skin and deep brown eyes, but in so many ways he was the image of his father. His mannerisms, the way he held his head to one side when thinking about the answer to a question, the way he twisted the cord on his tunic when he was bored, in so many ways they were alike.
She was also delighted young Amunitore had won his heart. She was a good, honest girl. Not the brightest, but certainly not stupid, and from a very good family. She had determined some time ago they would be good for each other and she was excited they both seemed to be of the same opinion.
Merymose himself was some way behind his wife and son, talking to one of his officers. The vanguard had disappeared around the bend in front. Merkare asked the driver to stop a moment saying she wished to stretch her legs. The carriage came to a halt and Maiherpri lifted his mother down in his great, strong arms.
‘They are certainly keeping you well fed at the Palace, my son,’ she said.
She stepped down and walked in front of the carriage, linking arms with her son and Amunitore. They walked casually, talking merrily. Merymose came up to join them and walked beside Maiherpri asking him questions about his hunting ability and how much game he had bagged on his last trip out.
They heard the yells before they saw anything. Two dark shapes jumped out from behind the rocks. The soldiers, now maybe seventy paces ahead of them turned in panic. The assailants would reach the Viceroy, his wife and the others, long before the soldiers could hope to get there. The two Nubians, each as big and strong as Maiherpri, sprinted, carrying spears by their sides. Shouting and running at full speed towards the small group, no one had time to react. The soldiers up ahead looked on in horror as the attackers closed in on their targets, one tried throwing a spear but it fell well short of its mark. They began running towards their master and his family. The attackers were quicker. Their panic was heightened when an ear-piercing, shrill scream from Merkare, reverberated around.
*
Haqwaset and his sons spent the morning with Yuya and Perneb, inspecting the works on the new part of the Temple at Ipet-Ryst. The new papyrus columns with their deep cut carvings. The numerous colossal statues of himself. The colonnade around the courtyard leading to the Hall and through to the birth room. Inside the birth room was a golden statue of Amun. It bore more than a striking resemblance to the King. The carvings and painting on the wall showed how Haqwaset was truly the son of Amun and therefore a true living god.
The scenes were of Amun visiting Mutemwiya, Haqwaset’s mother, on her wedding night, taking the form of her new husband Thutmose IV. They make love, Amun reveals himself to her, and she is delighted to have been impregnated by a god. Guessing from his scent that this was Amun, not her husband, she experienced an overwhelming feeling of joy. Djehuti, the scribe god, looked on, a witness to the celestial consummation. The fruit of this union, Amenhotep III, Horus on earth, was now here, grinning, looking at the faces of his companions.
‘I’m so glad your father and I taught you humility Haqwaset,’ Yuya said. ‘Has your mother seen this?’
‘Not yet,’ said Haqwaset, ‘but I have described it to her. She laughed, and told me she always thought of my father as a god so it is fitting. Anyway, I think it catches the essence of the story very well. Even down to the visit of Hathor to my mother,’ he laughed heartily.
‘This is for the benefit of the priests in this Temple, who think themselves above my rule and laws,’ said Haqwaset more seriously. ‘They resist me at every opportunity. These extensions to the Temple and this story of my birth is to ensure, every time they enter to worship the statue of Amun, they’ll be reminded that I am his living son on earth. Amun speaks through me and they are required to obey his and my, every command. I’m not sure it will work in the long term, but for now, I have caused them to pay for all the works from their own funds. These should be sufficiently well depleted to keep them quiet, for a time at least. Unless they steal from my forefathers. Anyway, I have more plans for the Temple at Ipet-Sut which will keep their hands dipping into their reserves for quite some time.’
‘You can’t seriously believe, Majesty, the church is behind the tomb robbing?’ asked Perneb.
‘I’m sorry to say Perneb, knowing the man involved, I’m sure at least part of the proceeds will end up in the coffers of the High Priest and therefore in the treasury of the Temple. I’m sure, given the slippery nature of the High Priest, he will deny any knowledge of wrongdoing but I know the truth, and he will know I know the truth. I am still more powerful than he is. He rules here, in the two great Temples in Waset, he has influence over all the priests of Amun, throughout the world, being head of the church, but I control all the other Temples and their priests. More importantly, I control the army. My own beliefs must be suppressed for the good of the Two Lands. Forcing any belief in only one God too quickly would lead to disaster. The people must be allowed to make up their own minds, with a little encouragement maybe.’
Yuya was impressed by the tone and manner of Haqwaset, who had matured into a great diplomat and statesman. The country was safe in his hands, and a person’s religion was safe from persecution.
‘We are living in an avaricious world, Perneb. How I wish everyone held the same beliefs as Yuya here. Believing in only one God, in essence a kind and generous God. If only the Two Lands could one day feel the same.’
‘The priests might call such thoughts and statements blasphemy your Majesty,’ said Perneb, looking around to be sure no one had heard his King’s words.
‘Don’t worry Perneb, although my own personal feelings are being swayed towards one god, who my children believe is represented by the Aten, my responsibilities of state would never allow me to replace all the deities on whom my people depend. Beliefs are too deep rooted to be changed in the short term; maybe one of my successors will have a better opportunity. The time I’m sure, will come, but not in my lifetime and maybe not in the lifetime of my precious son and heir, over there, although he and his brother are more inclined to Yuya’s way of thinking, even at their young age. I blame it on their mother’s milk.�
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‘So does the High Priest,’ said Yuya.
The party left the Temple without seeking the company of the First Servant of Amun. Time enough for that, tomorrow, when the Festival starts.
*
Outside of town there were chaotic scenes at the Viceroy’s train. Having been outflanked by the two Nubians, the guards, after a moment frozen in panic, had started to run towards the Viceroy and his family, drawing swords as they ran. They could never reach the carriage in time before the attackers did, but they would make them pay. Merkare continued to scream incoherently as the attackers approached. Merymose stopped. Maiherpri, for all his training amongst the elite soldiers of the Two Lands, didn’t reach for a weapon. Instead he remained still, feet apart, arms on hips, grimacing. As the attackers drew closer they dropped their spears and the one, slightly in the lead, picked up the Viceroy’s wife as if she were a doll and spun her round. She flung her arms around his neck and held on, still screaming, but now the screams were comprehensible.
‘Oh my sons, my sons,’ she was shouting, crying and laughing at the same time.
When she eased her grip the Nubian passed her to his brother and went to greet the Viceroy. He tapped Maiherpri on the face as he stepped past and the younger brother laughed. The Viceroy hugged his son, and then the other Nubian let his mother down but kept hold of her hand as he too went to embrace his father. The guards were confused, and stopped abruptly. The senior officer who had been at the back of the train, with the second contingent of guards, arrived at the scene as the Viceroy was stepping forward to speak to the guards in front.
‘You allowed yourselves to be out manoeuvred by these two would-be assassins, placing my life and the lives of my wife and family in danger. You might think the fact that these are my sons is a lucky escape for you, as we are unharmed. You should not be so certain. Had I died you could have fled to avoid the wrath of your King, Amenhotep, my brother and living god. Now you must contemplate what I might do to you for neglecting your duty. Officer,’ he yelled. ‘Get these men out of my sight, tie them hand and foot, remove their weapons and make them walk with the women and children. Let them think about their punishment. Send a new guard to the front and remember you are responsible for the training and discipline of these soldiers, I won’t forget that.’
The Awakening Aten Page 28