by N. L. Holmes
“Wait till I tell Sat-hut-haru about this.”
Chuckling, Hani led the way into the street. He would round up his staff and see about rooms for them all. Then they could bathe and set themselves in order. He had a lot of journeys ahead of him, and he suspected that he should get about them expeditiously, before laziness overtook him. Once, he’d taken such trips for granted—shuttling back and forth from one little kingdom to another, undergoing the weariness and inconvenience of travel—without a second thought. Now he found the prospect distasteful. Perhaps the four years he’d worked from home had spoiled him, or perhaps he was just growing older. I’m fifty now, he reminded himself. No longer a youth all eager for adventure, like Maya.
The commissioner’s majordomo met Hani’s party in the courtyard. “I can take you to your rooms, my lord,” he said with a bow. He looked like a Djahyite but was dressed in the Egyptian fashion and spoke the language flawlessly.
“Thank you, my man. I think we’re all ready for a bath and a little sweet oil on our hides.”
The servant led the way from one building to another within the walled enclosure. Hani could see that instead of being a single edifice, as he’d always thought, the residence was really a compound of many buildings. He’d never penetrated so far. Most of the structures were probably administrative offices and military barracks, but the tallest was distinctly house-like. It was a far cry from the splendor of Ptah-mes’s ancestral villa in Waset, or even his “modest place” in Akhet-aten, but it had that certain dignity that even remote outposts of the Two Lands maintained—and Azzati was what might be called the capital of administration in the north.
The majordomo showed Hani and Maya to contiguous rooms and ushered the rest of the staff into a suite down the corridor from them. “I hope you find everything to your satisfaction, my lord. Dinner will be served at sundown. And Lord Maya invites you personally to dine with him, Lord Hani, if you choose.”
“I’d be delighted. We’re old friends.” He saw the other Maya’s eager face fall, so he flashed him a helpless shrug that said, What can we do?
⸎
That night, Ptah-mes managed to serve a superb dinner that might have taken place in some aristocratic salon in Waset. Hani wondered if he’d brought his own cook from home. After the last bone had been picked and the last sweet cake drowned in the exquisite wine of Kebni, the two men retreated to the bare little garden of the residence and seated themselves at ease in the perfumed twilight of late summer. The crickets had begun to pulse in the bushes.
“How do you like the new vizier, Lord Ra-nefer?” Ptah-mes asked.
It had grown too dark for Hani to see Ptah-mes’s face well, so he wasn’t sure if the question was sincere or sarcastic. “I’m having trouble making up my mind, my lord. I certainly have nothing against him yet, as I’ve only met him once. He seemed a little... vague. He’s relatively new in office, and I’m sure it’s not easy to become informed about everything at once.”
“You’re being charitable, Hani. The man’s an idiot who is concerned for nothing but his own health. I only hope he has a good staff, or the Lower Kingdom will be in shambles in no time.” There was a hard edge to the commissioner’s voice. He’d never suffered fools gladly.
“I’ll do my best to work with him,” Hani said mildly.
“In words, agree, but in action, be prepared to correct his mistakes. That’s what I do. He’s happy enough to accept the credit when your deeds are successful.” Ptah-mes was silent for a moment. Then he said in a lighter tone, “I’m sending a young military officer with you to Qidshu. He’s slated to lead the invasion force, so he’ll have a better idea about exactly what the army will need on their march. And his men can serve as an escort. I don’t think you should encounter any trouble, but one never knows.”
“Thank you, my lord. How soon do you foresee us leaving?”
“Whenever we can fit you out. I don’t know what supplies you brought from home, but we can certainly provide for your staff whatever is needed.”
Hani expressed his gratitude warmly. At last, Ptah-mes rose, and Hani followed.
“I suppose we should get to bed, since tomorrow is likely to be busy.” Ptah-mes extended a hand to Hani, who clasped it with real affection. “It’s good to see you again, my friend.”
“Indeed. You seem well, my lord, if not happy. I hope the posting agrees with you.”
“Well enough. I’m accustomed to solitude. Perhaps it’s less painful in a setting where there are no sights to... to remind me.” His voice wavered, and Hani understood that he was thinking of his wife, the Osir Apeny.
“Thank you for your hospitality yet again, Lord Ptah-mes. I’m substantially indebted to you.”
Ptah-mes brushed off that acknowledgment with a gracious nod. “And I to you.”
CHAPTER 3
To Hani’s surprise, the commanding officer of the invasion force was Pa-aten-em-heb. The young man’s face brightened at the sight of Hani, and he plowed through the crowd of soldiers toward the scribe, his arms extended. “Lord Hani! What a pleasure! Are we to be working together up here?”
The two men embraced. Hani eyed Pa-aten-em-heb up and down. He was the very picture of martial good looks in his scale corselet and pointy-aproned military kilt.
“We are, we are,” Hani said. “You and I are going to visit the kings of Djahy and Kharu and secure their help for our forces. You’ll know better than I what sort of provisions to demand.”
“Water above all,” said Pa-aten-em-heb without hesitation. “We have reservoirs along the route on the Royal Way and the Way of Haru, but once we strike off inland, it’s risky. Some little village well isn’t going to satisfy the whole army.”
“Be prepared to argue with the same eloquence before our local mayors.” Hani’s smile faded. “To be honest, I have more doubts about some of our commissioners than I do about the vassals.”
“I know none of them,” Pa-aten-em-heb admitted.
“There’s a Hotep in Ullaza. He’s as corrupt as they come. In Kumidi, it’s Amen-nefer, and I’ve heard no good about him either.”
The officer looked up at Hani, a cold light of recognition flickering in his eyes. “Amen-nefer? The one-eyed man?”
“I believe so, yes. I haven’t met him yet.” Hani sensed a history behind this reaction. “Do you know him?”
“There can’t be two of them. It must be him.” Pa-aten-em-heb was breathing heavily, his lips pressed thin with the effort not to speak. Hani waited in silence until the young officer blurted, “I’ll rip out his throat with my teeth if you leave me alone with him, Lord Hani. I’d better warn you.”
Iy! Hani thought, surprised. He hates the man’s very name. I wonder what’s behind this? Laying a hand on the officer’s arm, he said, “Do you need to tell me something, my friend?”
Pa-aten-em-heb seemed to debate with himself, then he said in a low voice, “Is there a private place we can go, my lord?”
Hani led him into the darkened reception hall. It was as hushed as a temple, with the same powdery smell of enclosure and incense. An oblique ray of light, dancing with motes, filtered down from the clerestory just enough to make it possible to walk without stumbling.
In a kindly voice, Hani said, “What is it, my boy?”
Pa-aten-em-heb spoke so low Hani could barely hear him, and the officer’s words trembled with rage. “I almost hesitate to tell you this, since you’re the father of daughters, my lord. That misbegotten son of a jackal once courted my sister. This was seven years ago or more. She repulsed him, and in retaliation, he raped and battered her. He slashed her face so savagely that she’ll never recover. She, who was so beautiful before, is now too appalling to look at. He took away her every hope of happiness.” He closed his eyes as if to blot out the memory of that terrible crime. “The shock and humiliation led to my father’s death. Amen-nefer is evil in the flesh.”
Hani’s hair stood up on the back of his neck. “May the Hidden One protect us. I
’ve never heard such a story. Surely, you took him to law—how is it the man isn’t breaking rocks in some quarry in the desert? Yet here he is, a commissioner.” Bitterness overwhelmed him like a choking wave. “What kind of world is this where the evil are rewarded?” But there will be a reckoning at the Weighing of the Heart.
Pa-aten-em-heb shook his head slowly. His mouth was a hard slash, and his eyes, in the semidarkness, were like pools of night. “It’s a world ruled by a heretic, Lord Hani. A world that has lost the favor of the gods. It must come to an end.”
“Do you think you can do this job, son? Do your... your convictions come between you and your duty? We may have to defend this terrible man.”
“I serve the Two Lands, my lord. Whatever I feel toward the king and his minions, I’ll carry out my commands. Until...”
Until the day comes when the Crocodiles crawl out of the water. Hani, too, awaited that hour.
He clapped Pa-aten-em-heb on the shoulder, and the two men made their way out onto the porch. Hani’s eyes were dazzled by the sunlight, but his heart was in shadow.
He said finally, changing the subject, “So you’re head of the entire invasion force? You must have been promoted since I saw you last.”
Pa-aten-em-heb forced a smile. “I have been, Lord Hani. No more standard-bearer of the Pacifier of the Aten company. I’m a regiment commander now. I understand you’ve been honored as well.”
“Yes,” Hani said reluctantly and dropped his eyes. “I feel a little guilty accepting honors at the king’s hand while... you know.” They were both opposed to the royal reforms.
“I didn’t refuse a promotion at his hands either,” Pa-aten-em-heb assured him. “It’s important to have solid men in high places.”
Hani nodded and said more loudly, “Good for you, my boy. That speaks well for our chances of success.” He clapped the officer on the back in honest delight. “I don’t suppose my son has come with you...”
“Why, yes, he has. How remiss of me not to mention it. Pa-kiki’s here. I’m sure you’ll want to see each other.”
“Indeed. I guess he’s all excited to be sent abroad on a campaign. I wonder if he knows he’ll be expected to wander the battlefield after the slaughter and tally up the severed hands of the enemy.”
“Or penises.” Pa-aten-em-heb laughed. “I was only a lad when I started following my father out on such forays. It was pretty grisly the first few times.”
“Were you a military scribe, then?” Hani asked in surprise.
“Yes, I was. Eventually, I had the chance to pass into the ranks, and so I did. Pa-kiki is talking about doing the same some day, but it’s a little harder if you don’t have relatives in the army.”
“In fact, both I and my father were military scribes. But then, you know my father already.”
Pa-aten-em-heb turned to Hani, his eyebrows raised and a warm grin of solidarity on his face. I’ve clearly given the secret password, Hani thought. He eyed the young officer. Pa-aten-em-heb was a solidly built, good-looking young man with a chiseled face that reminded Hani a bit of Ptah-mes but broader, with heavier features. His earlier grimness had disappeared into delight.
“I do, of course, but I didn’t realize you had served in the military too. I look forward to working with you, my lord—getting to know you better.”
“And I you, my boy.”
The two men clasped forearms, and Pa-aten-em-heb made his way with brisk steps toward the garrison building. Hani smiled fondly after him. Then he remembered that at the time of their first meeting, the officer’s wife had been undergoing a difficult pregnancy. I should have asked if she had the baby safely.
⸎
That evening, as Maya and Lord Hani discussed their mission and, side by side in Hani’s room, packed the last of their things, a knock at the door interrupted them.
“I’ll get it, my lord.” Maya bounded over to the door and swung it open.
His brother-in-law stood in the doorway. “Maya!”
“Pa-kiki!” Maya cried at the same time.
“Is Father here?”
“Of course, my boy. Come in.” Maya stepped back and let the young scribe enter. Pa-kiki was nearly ten years his junior, and while Maya had no love for Lord Hani’s firstborn, he held young Pa-kiki in brotherly affection.
From within the room, Hani cried out happily, “Son!” He lumbered to the open door, and the two men embraced while Maya looked on benevolently.
“I can’t believe we’re going on a mission together, Father!” There was an earnest enthusiasm about the youth that made Maya want to protect him, although Hani was certainly adequate to that task. Maya thought of his father-in-law as a rock of security, as solid as he appeared to be—broad, heavy, and firmly rooted. A man felt safe in every sense under the protection of the diplomat.
Hani beamed, his little brown eyes crinkling. “I don’t think this happens very often. I certainly never worked with Father once I was grown and independently employed. It’s a wonderful gift of the gods, eh, son? Thanks be to Montu.”
“We’re just here on a sort of reconnaissance now—to check out the route and be sure there are enough supplies. But in a year or so, we should be coming back with a full regiment, ready to whip the minions of those vile Hittites into line.”
Hani threw back his head and laughed. “I hope you’re just as enthusiastic on the way back. That first battle can be disillusioning.”
“I’m ready, Papa—er, Father.”
⸎
Two days after that, Hani and Maya, too, were ready—their supplies packed, the staff gathered, the donkeys loaded for the short trip to the port—when Lord Ptah-mes summoned Hani back to the commissioner’s residence. Curious, Hani waited until his superior opened the door to the office.
With a dry smile, Ptah-mes bade Hani enter. “I’m sorry to jerk you back at the last minute, my friend,” he said, walking into the interior of the room where his chair sat on its dais. “But we have some visitors with information that may be useful to you.”
“Ah?”
Ptah-mes drew aside his skirts and took a seat, crossing his legs. “An emissary of the king of Urusalim, who has an interesting report. And another from Qeden, to the north. I think you’ll find what they have to say useful.” He called out to his doorkeeper to admit the men, and before long, the two diplomats entered. They were dressed in the colorful fashion of Djahy, with long, patterned, tight-sleeved tunics, wrapped around with fringed shawls.
They must be dying in this heat, Hani said to himself.
They both made a deep obeisance to Ptah-mes, who said, “Tell Lord Hani what you told me about what’s happening. He’s here to set things right in the king’s name.”
One of the emissaries stepped forward. He was in his late fifties or even a bit older, with grizzled hair and beard that gave him a calm, venerable appearance that was belied by his bright, angry black eyes. He spoke in Egyptian. “I am the emissary of King Abdi-hepa of Urusalim, my lord. He wants you to know that the Egyptian troops to the north of us are far from loyal to Our Sun God—life, prosperity, and health be to him. They have been fraternizing with the hapiru and have even been identified among their troops when our cities have been raided.”
Hani let out a whistle and cast a glance at Ptah-mes. In the heart of our vassal territory. “Where do you think they’re coming from, my lord?” he asked the Djahyite neutrally.
“Somewhere on the banks of the Yardon River. It’s very sparsely settled out there, and they can hide their encampments with ease in the thickets.”
“And how do you know that there were Egyptians among them?”
“We have informers, loyal soldiers from your garrison, who reported their fellows,” the man said. “And I’ve seen them myself. They had the physical appearance of your people, and they were dressed in their military uniforms. It was very confusing to the troops on our side, you may imagine.”
Hani turned to his superior, curious. “Did the soldiers report this to
you, Lord Ptah-mes?”
Ptah-mes, never taking his eyes from the emissary, shook his head slowly.
“Is there anything else I should know?” Hani asked the Djahyite.
“No, my lord. Only I beg you, send us more troops. The hapiru become bolder and bolder, and their numbers continue to grow. The more they appear to be winning, the more temptation it is for our soldiers and yours to go over to their side.”
Hani nodded and thanked the man, then the other emissary stepped forward with a bow. “I am the spokesman of Akizzi, king of Qeden, my lord.” The Qedenite was a small, spare person who must have been fortyish, no more. One eyelid fluttered nervously as he spoke. “Our king wants you to know that King Aitakkama of Qidshu is up to no good. Aitakkama unashamedly abets the hapiru in their attacks on our cities and gives them sanctuary when we go after them.”
Ptah-mes caught Hani’s eye and lifted an eyebrow.
“My lord knows the importance of the pass from the coast inland that Qidshu guards,” the Qedenite added a bit desperately.
“I do,” Hani agreed. This was disturbing news indeed, with an invasion force poised to attack. Pa-aten-em-heb and his men would approach by ship to Kebni or some other port and march inland to the strongholds of the hapiru through precisely that pass. It wouldn’t be hard for brigands to hold them back by hiding in the forested mountains that flanked it.
As if he had read Hani’s mind, Ptah-mes said, “These gentlemen are aware of the impending war, Hani.” He turned to the two Djahyites. “And I believe they are fully committed to support us.”
“Absolutely, Lord Commissioner. Our army is yours to command, and we will open our granaries to you,” said the older of the two, bowing with a flourish.
“Likewise Qeden, my lord,” said the other man. “We can provide you with scouts who know the area near the inland border.”
“Very well,” said Ptah-mes. “Your testimony is valuable and will be remembered. Unless you have questions, Hani, that will be all for these venerable emissaries.”