by Overton, Max
"Shall we?" Nakhtmin gestured for Lord Horemheb to precede him.
Horemheb balked. "I'm not a fool. I know Bakt was appointed by Ay. If you think I'm entering the palace alone you are mad."
The High Priest flushed. "Nobody suborns the chosen one of Amun. I answer to the god alone."
"Even so, I do not trust him."
Nakhtmin sighed. "My father predicted this. You may take an honour guard of twenty men with you to match the guard he will have. I will remain out here with one of your commanders as hostage for your safety. Will that be acceptable?"
Horemheb nodded. "Djedhor, remain with this man. If I am not out in an hour, kill him and storm the palace. Kill everyone. Hednakht, select twenty of your best men and come with me--no archers, close quarter men only."
"My lord, this is not necessary," Nakhtmin protested. "There will be no treachery."
"Lad, when you've known Ay as long as I have, you'll know him capable of anything." At that moment, Hednakht saluted, twenty soldiers standing behind him. Horemheb ran his eyes quickly over them and nodded. "Follow me." He marched straight toward the palace steps and the waiting Amun legion.
A Leader of a Hundred at the main doors held a hand out to stop the approaching men and looked toward Nakhtmin. When his general nodded his assent, the man saluted Horemheb and led him and his soldiers into the palace.
The doors of the Hall of Justice were thrown wide and the path to the throne on the raised dais was clear. Tjaty Ay stood at the foot of the dais and to one side, his face fixed in a welcoming smile. His men--twenty in all, Hednakht counted--lined the edge of the Hall, out of earshot of the centre if men spoke quietly.
Horemheb marched down the centre of the huge room and stopped in front of Ay. His eyes flicked to the vacant throne and the object on it and a smile quirked the corner of his mouth. "Nice touch," he murmured. "The double crown encompasses both our ambitions."
"Welcome, Lord Horemheb," Ay declaimed so that all present could hear him. "We must talk."
"Yes, but alone."
"I don't know that I would feel safe alone with you," Ay replied. "At least, not without a king's command to restrain you."
"And what if the last command given me by my king was to kill you?"
Ay gestured at his men. "Then we would both die and our beloved Kemet would descend into chaos."
Horemheb told Hednakht to take the soldiers to the edge of the Hall. "You too, priest."
Bakt scowled. "I am here to make sure you both adhere to the agreement. You cannot tell me to leave."
"Just out of earshot," Ay said, his eyes fixed on his adversary. When Bakt hesitated, Ay rapped out, "Go!" After the priest had retreated and the two of them were alone in the middle of the Hall, Ay sat down on the steps of the dais and, after a brief hesitation, Horemheb joined him.
"You returned a lot sooner than I anticipated," Ay said conversationally. "Did you fulfil your command to destroy the rebels?"
"Most of them, but Menkure escaped. I doubt we'll see him again soon."
"And yet you returned? I thought you were not to come back until they were all destroyed."
"I received a disturbing report and deemed it best to return as fast as possible."
"Ah." Ay nodded. "Our young queen has been telling tales."
"I will not let you take the throne."
"I see you believe her childish prattling."
"Where you are concerned, yes. You tried to take the throne once before."
Ay sighed. "You would hold the love of an old man for his daughter against him? If you remember, my daughter Nefertiti felt slighted by Waenre Akhenaten and sought to hurt him. I played along knowing she could never succeed but motivated by love for her."
"And this time?" Horemheb asked with a sneer. "With your grand-daughter? Are you still motivated by love?"
"I daresay you will not believe me, but yes. Not love for Ankhesenamen but for the Two Lands, for Kemet." Ay leaned forward, searching the other man's face for a glimmer of understanding. "Our royal family has disintegrated, fallen into ruin with no heir to the vacant throne. What is to happen to us? Are we supposed to let chaos rule? I say no - there is another option."
"By which you mean yourself. You intend to claim the throne."
"Would that be so bad?"
"Yes."
"Why? You know I am qualified. I governed the Two Kingdoms during the reigns of Waenre Akhenaten and Djeserkheperu Smenkhkare, and the Upper Kingdom during our dear boy-king's rule. I would be eminently suited to be king."
"Except that Nebkheperure marched south to Waset to oust you. His desire was that I became Tjaty of the whole of Kemet. You were to be retired."
Ay smiled faintly. "I see. The king never said anything to me about it. Do you have his command in writing? I will, of course, obey such a command if sealed with the king's ring."
"No, it was never committed to writing. He intended to do it when we arrived. The presence of the rebel army disrupted his plans."
"Then I regret I cannot obey a command based on mere hearsay." Ay drew a parchment out from his tunic. "However, you will recognise the king's seal on this document. It names me heir and commands that you assume the governorship of Nubia. I imagine both commands are a reward for faithful service over many years." He handed the page to Horemheb.
"This is a forgery. Oh, I recognise the seal imprint, but all the same, the king did not have this written." Horemheb laughed, a trace of bitterness entering his voice. "I don't doubt you were able to bend his mind to your will once more, there at the end, but I will not accept the unsubstantiated word of a dead boy."
"Then it seems we are at an impasse."
"Not quite. I have three legions in Waset to your one. I also have the allegiance of the northern army."
"What do you intend?"
"I will talk to Queen Ankhesenamen and together we will decide what is best for Kemet."
"Of course, you mean to take the kingship for your own."
Horemheb hesitated. "I am a loyal servant but...if there was no other way; I would take up that burden."
"And marry Ankhesenamen."
"If necessary. A king born outside the royal family must acquire legitimacy. You know this."
"She will not have you."
Horemheb frowned. "What are you saying?"
"You are a commoner by birth. She will not marry you."
"As are you, Ay, for all your titles of 'God's Father' and 'Fan-bearer on the King's Right Hand'. The royal blood does not reside in you."
"I know it. And the solution is on hand, just like for you."
"You are her grandfather. Have some decency."
Ay laughed. "She has had her father and her uncle between her legs already. Do you think the gods will balk at one more relative?"
"Maybe the gods would not, but I will. You will not be king while I have life in my body, Ay. You tried to oust Waenre and I defeated you. You engineered the fall of Djeserkheperu..."
"I? A crocodile took him. You know that. Unless you imagine it was a tame crocodile."
"I don't know how you did it but it reeks of you. The mistake I made the first time was leaving you alive. I will not make that mistake again."
Ay shook his head. "You do me a great injustice Lord Horemheb. I have never sought power for myself, only so that Kemet might benefit." He sighed deeply and ran his fingers through his white hair. "Besides, I will not get the opportunity to marry my grand-daughter and become king." Ay looked across at Horemheb and saw a glimmer of hope in his eyes. He smiled inwardly. "Neither will you, for Queen Ankhesenamen has already chosen her husband. They will marry within the month and Kemet will have a new king."
"What? Who?" Horemheb leapt to his feet and stood over Ay, his fists clenched. Ay's soldiers stirred uneasily and a few weapons were drawn. Hednakht immediately signalled his own men to respond. "Hold!" Horemheb shouted. "Put your weapons away." He was obeyed, but slowly.
"What are you talking about? Who is this husband of
hers? There is no one suitable. Do you mean one of the nobles? None of them would know how to be king."
"Sit down again. I will not strain my neck looking up at you," Ay declared. He waited until Horemheb had paced back and forth for a few minutes and then re-seated himself before continuing. "You must remember that my grand-daughter is young and her head does not always rule her. She is thinking of other things with this choice of hers."
"Who is it? Do you know or is this another game?"
"No game, I assure you. As for who, let me get to that in my own way."
"Be quick about it then," Horemheb growled. "I will not be toyed with."
"Very well. Not long after the death of the king, while you were out chasing rebels, I talked to the Queen about the succession. Just to sound her out, you understand. See if she had considered the problem. We talked and she rejected all the nobles I put forward. I asked her to consider me--and even you, Lord Horemheb--but she would have none of it. I told her there was no one else and she must make a decision for the good of the Kingdoms."
"Very selfless of you, I'm sure."
"When I had gone she called in one of your men, a soldier by the name of Meny. Do you know him?"
"He was a Leader of a Hundred for a time, but liked drinking with the men a little too much. I broke him down a rank."
"Well, he is a Queen's man now. He carried a letter for her--to the father of her intended husband, offering the throne of Kemet."
"Gods! Who is he?"
"The letter was addressed to Shubbiluliuma, King of the Hittites. She asks him to send her one of his sons to be her husband."
Horemheb stared at Ay for a long time. "This is a fabrication but I cannot see what you have to gain by this lie," he said at last.
"It is no lie."
"Prove it."
"I have a rough draft of the letter."
"Meny delivered it to you?"
Ay smiled broadly but shook his head. "No, he delivered it to Hatti."
"Then how do you know?"
"A woman who serves the Queen is a Hittite slave. Commanded to burn the drafts of the letter, she saved one on which was written the name of Shubbiluliuma. It seems she still pines for her homeland village and the name was a reminder."
"And how did you come by it?"
"One of General Nakhtmin's men discovered it."
"May I see it?"
Ay pulled the folded paper out from his tunic and passed it across. Horemheb read it through carefully, and then again.
"The hand is atrocious," Horemheb commented, "Which tells me this was not written by a scribe. There are many mistakes and corrections..."
"As I said, it is a draft of a letter."
"If it is genuine..."
"It is."
"...then the Queen is guilty of treason. Have you confronted her with this?"
"No. She would deny it."
"Perhaps she never sent the letter. Perhaps she wrote it but never sent it."
"Then what did Meny take north to Hatti?"
Horemheb read the letter again and flicked it with a fingernail. "In itself, this piece of paper is nothing. There is nothing to say Ankhesenamen actually penned it. It could be a forgery written to incriminate her."
"There is more. Ten days ago Meny returned from Hatti with a Hittite ambassador and asked to see the Queen."
"You gave permission? Without being present?"
Ay shrugged. "There was little I could do. The ambassador said he wished to see her about something personal. At the time, I was unaware of the letter, so I allowed it. I now know that he must have brought Shubbiluliuma's reply."
"You think he accepted?"
"Wouldn't you? The chance to put one of his sons on the double throne, to have his grandson the legitimate king of Kemet?"
"Is the ambassador still in Waset? Or Meny?"
Ay shook his head. "They left six days ago. My guess is that they confirmed the marriage agreement and they have gone to fetch the Hittite prince to his reward."
Horemheb studied the older man sitting beside him. "I cannot believe you would allow a Hittite to become king, so what were you going to do?"
"Wait for him to arrive and then kill him."
"Rather a crude plan. Shubbiluliuma would immediately launch a war."
"Can you think of anything better?" Ay asked.
"Well, I agree we have to kill whichever prince is sent, but we should try and lay the blame elsewhere. If we killed him on the border, it could be made to look like the work of bandits. Shubbiluliuma will know the truth but will not be able to prove it. He will not go to war over a doubt."
"Then we must order his death."
"I am surprised you have not already done so."
Ay smiled mirthlessly. "My influence in the north is almost nil. I was hoping you would return in time to take charge of that aspect."
"Do your dirty work for you, you mean."
"As you will, but you are Tjaty of the North and General of the Armies. You could achieve so much more than I."
Horemheb considered the situation. "I will send Hednakht with the Re legion. I am needed down here."
"Good. A show of strength is what we need. A crack legion can sweep through the borderlands and overwhelm the Hittite prince. That will show the king that Kemet is not to be trifled with."
Horemheb grimaced. "That is not the intention. The idea is to let him think bandits did it. By the time he finds out differently, we will have the Queen under control."
"Ah, I see. Well, you know your men best. I'm sure Hednakht and the Re legion can look like bandits."
"No, curse it. He is a competent officer but he lacks flair."
"Djedhor then, with your Heru legion? Or Paramessu with the Northern Army?"
"Set's balls," Horemheb growled. "You know I have to do this myself."
Ay smiled inwardly. "Surely there is someone you can trust?"
"Not with a mission of this delicacy. However, I cannot go. Who would oversee your actions in Waset?"
"My actions? What do you mean?"
"It is less than thirty days until the burial of Nebkheperure. Following hard on that will be the coronation. If I leave you in charge you will make yourself king and that I will not allow."
Ay shrugged. "So don't go. Just send word to Paramessu to prepare for war because when the Hittite prince reaches Waset, I will kill him myself."
"We cannot afford a war. Not on the heels of the Nubian rebellion. But I equally cannot leave you unattended. I do not trust you."
"I can appreciate your dilemma, Lord Horemheb. How can I make you trust me?"
"You cannot."
"I could swear an oath that I would not take the throne while you were away. That I would wait for you and together we would come to an agreement."
"You are not noted for your piety, Ay."
"A slander, Lord Horemheb. Was I not a priest of the Aten and later a priest of Amun? I have been busy governing Kemet and had less time to spend in devotion to the gods. I do not let it be widely known but I give much grain, wine and cattle from my estates to the service of the poor, through many temples. Ask of the priests, if you will. They will tell you of my piety."
"I had not heard that in truth, Ay." Horemheb got up and started pacing. Hednakht looked across at him enquiringly, but Horemheb waved him back when he made a move in his direction. He turned back to Ay and stood over him, fists on hips. "Will you swear an oath on the holy objects of the god Amun-Re? Will you swear not to bury the king until I return? Will you swear not to assume the throne?"
Ay stroked his chin in thought. "That is a serious oath you ask, Lord Horemheb. The relics of the god are not to be taken lightly." The old man got to his feet. "I will swear an oath as you require. Come, take my hand on it."
Lord Horemheb stared into Ay's face, searching it for the least sign of deception. Slowly, he nodded and extended his hand. "Have Bakt assemble the holy objects. You will take the oath this afternoon and I will leave for the north immedia
tely thereafter."
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Chapter Nine
Tjaty Ay had for forty years existed on the outskirts of the royal family but for thirty of those years had exercised varying degrees of control over the kings and affairs of state. Now he had the ultimate power within his grasp and would soon become the very image of the sun god as he took his place at the centre of the Kemetu universe. Soon he would become Per-Aa and form his own royal family. Yesterday he had buried Nebkheperure Tutankhamen in his little tomb chiselled out of the rock in the Valley of Burial, and tomorrow he would be crowned king--King Kheperkheperure Irimaat It-netjer Ay--'Everlasting are the Manifestations of Re, Who does what is right, God's Father, Ay'. His marriage to his grand-daughter would follow later in the day, after which Queen Ankhesenamen would have served her purpose.
Ay sat at his desk in his official quarters and looked around at the chests filled with scrolls of the day-to-day activities of the Southern Kingdom, and of his multifarious plans. Soon, he would move to the King's Apartments but despite having schemed and planned for this for so long, he felt reluctant to assume the comforts of royalty before the coronation. Instead, he went over the schedule for the following day, making sure that he had anticipated everything, had left nothing to chance.
Everything had come together in the seventy days before the burial. It can only be the will of the gods . Ay smiled to himself. What gods? I make my own success rather than wait for non-existent beings to toss it into my lap . Three things could have prevented the coronation of Ay, and he had acted with determination and cunning to remove each obstacle. He sat back with a cup of wine and contemplated his victories.
Queen Ankhesenamen is really quite a delectable young woman...how could she not be? She is the daughter of my daughter Nefertiti, judged the most beautiful woman on earth in her time . Ay felt a stirring in his loins and shifted in his chair. At my age! Perhaps I should bed her more than once after all. Then again, do I want a knife in my ribs? That little bitch would think nothing of murder . He chuckled and sipped his wine. Easy to tell she is my granddaughter .