Huy declined, and went on watching the boy. “I’ve seen nothing of the Prince since he returned,” he said. “How is he?”
“We are becoming friends, but the Queen my Mother’s spies still bring her regular reports.” Amunhotep swallowed a mouthful of wine and sat back. At his gesture a servant refilled his cup. “She doesn’t think that you’ll have to See for him. His actions are open and his conversation is inoffensive. It seems as though he spoke the truth when he told us that all he wanted to do was retire to his estates and live in peace. However, the Queen my Mother will keep him in the palace for a while longer. Now,” he said cheerfully, “I am actually going to dictate, Uncle Huy. I did what you told me to do. I listened to Treasurer Nakht-sobek. I now know how rich I am. So take your place and write my plans for the gods and my country.”
Hiding his astonishment, Huy left his chair, sank cross-legged onto the floor beside the King’s calf, and opened his palette. It was the same one that his uncle Ker and aunt Heruben had given him for his fifth birthday, a cedar rectangle with his name etched in silver on a lid that slid open to reveal grooves for his brushes, compartments for black and red ink powders, two pots to mix them in, and a simple burnisher. Huy and his uncle had parted company a long time ago, but for a moment he was back in his father Hapu’s garden, in the sunshine, his admiring family around him as he examined the gift with awe. Leave me alone, Great Atum, he prayed silently, bitterly. Why do you suffocate me with the past? Did I not take those last visions enough to heart? A servant’s hand appeared, holding a dish of water. He took it with thanks, poured a little in the pots, and began to mix his inks. He had replaced his brushes many times, and the scrolls of papyrus hung in a leather pouch from his belt. Taking one and unrolling it, he burnished it, murmuring the scribes’ prayer to their patron, Thoth, as he did so. On impulse he shook the remaining water onto the mat beside him in honour of Imhotep.
The King was tapping his bare foot by Huy’s knee. “Are you ready?” he asked crisply.
Huy looked up and nodded.
“Then begin. ‘These are the tasks that I Amunhotep, Mighty Bull, the One Who Causes All to Be, have set myself for the beautifying of Egypt and the gods. My monuments shall be more splendid than those of any King before me, and my works shall amaze and confound those who will come after. First it is necessary to open the calcite mine at Berseh on the east bank of the river opposite the city of Khmun, and to repair the ruined mine at Tura south of Iunu so that limestone may again be quarried to complete the work my father began and to provide material for my own building projects.’” He paused. Huy dipped his brush in the ink and waited. “Nakht-sobek was my father’s Master of Works as well as being responsible for the Treasury,” Amunhotep mused.
Huy, as a good scribe, realized that the young man was simply thinking aloud.
“I need someone new, someone whose attention will not be divided. My father did not have much time for beautifying in Egypt before he died.” Was that a hint of scorn underlying the words? Huy wondered. Had Mutemwia, who disliked and distrusted her husband, sown a seed of disdain in her son for his royal father Osiris Thothmes the Fourth? “Continue,” Amunhotep ordered, and Huy bent over his labour. “‘The noble Men, our Chief Sculptor, will make a capable Master of Works. He can see to the mines at once.’ I’ll consult the Queen my Mother, but I believe that Men will be happy working under Chief Architect Kha and perhaps his sons Hori and Suti. You know them, Uncle Huy?”
“I have met the noble Kha and liked him, Majesty. I have yet to become acquainted with his sons.”
Amunhotep laughed. “You will certainly be amused by them. The whole family is expert at designing. You must meet them as soon as possible. They’re most interesting as well as talented. In fact I think I’ll put them to work at Weset. They’ve been idle since they finished the small project at Aabtu.” He flung out his arms. “I shall show my love and devotion for Amun to the whole world! Ipet-isut will become the greatest testament to a King’s worship the world has ever seen! Uncle, I am on fire with plans, with visions of what I want to see rise on that holy site! I am indebted to you and to my tutors, who deluged me with boring lectures on masonry and architectural design and forced me to learn! Without you I would have no dreams of proper homage to offer to my Divine Father.” He rose to his feet and began to pace once more, and Huy realized that he had been bursting with this enthusiasm the whole time. Men—new Master of Works. Kha—Chief Architect, Weset, he wrote. Sons Hori and Suti—Ipet-isut?
“New gardens for the temple filled with flowers, servants—monuments of gold, lapis, malachite—Amun shall have everything his heart may desire. There is one more thing to be noted down.” Amunhotep resumed his seat. “Uncle Huy, did you know that a very ancient Osiris-one, Senwosret Glorified, caused to be built a palace-temple at Weset named Senwosret Is Observing the Primeval Hill? And even before that, a small temple already existed at Ipet-isut? But of course you did. The whole of Weset, city, temple, and surrounding land, has been holy since the beginning, when Atum became ‘Hill’ and birthed the world. I intend to move us all to Weset, and the Queen my Mother agrees that it is our joyful duty. What do you think?”
Shocked and yet filled with an enormous relief, Huy glanced up at the boy’s eager face. All those months under my care. All Mutemwia’s anxious determination to counteract any influence his father’s heresy might have on his childish mind. It has come to this magnificent fruition: a King who will wield supreme authority in Egypt in a very few years and who already chooses to follow the way of Ma’at and the elevation of the god who has always been Egypt’s champion and protector.
“I think that your love for Amun will make you the greatest Pharaoh this blessed country has ever seen,” he said. Quickly, he wrote Move to Weset and new palace. Renovation of existing building? “Have you decided on an architect for its design?”
“So far I only trust Kha and his family, but I’ll hire anyone he recommends to work under him. No more dictation, Uncle Huy. I can tell that you’re very pleased with my surprises. I like to please you, you know,” he added earnestly. “I love you. I can dismiss you now. Acquaint those I have chosen with my decision. Oh, and please find Nehemawi and send him to me. The Queen my Mother and I want to grant his request and let him retire. Send me Merimose as well. He’ll take Nehemawi’s position as Viceroy of Kush and Wawat and Overseer of the Gold Lands of Amun.”
He was still smiling a trifle smugly, a boy pleased with his surprises, as Huy bowed himself out, palette under his arm, and Nubti closed the doors. Perti and the soldiers came to attention.
“Captain, do you know where I might find the Viceroy Nehemawi and the noble Merimose?” Huy asked as they began to walk. “I haven’t yet met these men.”
“Of course, Master, and while you were busy with His Majesty a message came for you from his Mother the Queen. She requests your company this evening in her quarters. Shall I send Sarenput with your reply?”
“Sarenput? Who’s he?”
“Your new herald under Chief Herald Ba-en-Ra, who hired him yesterday. Ba-en-Ra will doubtless approach you regarding the matter as soon as possible.”
“Doubtless.” Huy sighed, absently noting the waves of bowed heads in the passages as he went by. He had no appetite for the impending noon meal. He knew that he would need a dose of opium and an hour on his couch once he had met these two strangers and delivered the King’s demands.
Ra had entered the mouth of Nut and the light of the stars was strengthening when Huy sought admittance to the Queen’s apartments. In spite of the fact that he had not eaten during the day, he had done no more than pick at the broiled goose, broad beans, and garlicked cabbage Paroi had set before him. He had woken with an intense craving for yet more poppy and an ache in the pit of his stomach that had nothing to do with a hunger for food. Resignedly he fought the urge to call for Tetiankh. He had been bathed and dressed in fresh linen, but when his body servant began to braid his hair, Huy had pulled away. “Lea
ve it loose,” he said. “My scalp hurts.” Tetiankh had reminded him that he would be meeting the Queen. Huy snapped back some brusque response that he instantly regretted, and Tetiankh had bowed.
“At least let me gather it into a ribbon,” he said. “Master, do you need to consult a physician? You eat less than you should, and your belly is not happy.”
“A physician would only tell me what we both know already,” Huy replied. “I take too much opium. Have Amunmose mix me garlic and juniper, and brew me an infusion of thyme for the pain.” He had allowed Tetiankh to tie his hair with a white ribbon, and later he downed the remedy his chief steward had prepared. The ache became a tenderness, but still he could not eat. He was glad to leave his quarters.
The Queen’s steward Ameni admitted him to her rooms. She had been wearing jasmine perfume the last time he had entered, but to his relief the mingled scents of lotus, narcissus, and henna flowers wafted towards him as he went forward and bowed. As before, she was casually dressed in a voluminous linen sheath and a filmy coat with soft wide sleeves from which her tiny hands extended like the centres of white lilies. She was unpainted and unshod, her feet planted together on a low stool. The bud-shaped honey alabaster lamps on their tall stands filled the warm space with a golden glow that barely reached the depiction of flowers, birds, and fruits covering the walls in glorious profusion. There is no woman sharing my quarters anymore, Huy thought as he straightened, and I do not realize how much I miss the aura of a feminine presence until I come here. I am sexless. I forget that I am a eunuch by the will of Atum, but in Mutemwia’s presence I become a man again for a while. It is not a comfortable awareness.
She beckoned him. “Come and sit down, Huy. You look unwell. Take a little date wine. It’s fortifying.”
Obediently Huy took the empty chair beside her and at once Ameni was at his elbow, pouring the dark liquid into a silver goblet. Although he had no desire to do so, Huy drank, and felt the dull ache in his belly subside.
Mutemwia smiled. “That heavy brow of yours has begun to clear, but you are gaunt, dear friend. Do you not eat enough?”
“You have no need to spy on me, Majesty,” Huy said. “In all the years we have known one another, I have given you no cause to distrust me.”
“I know.” Her hands left the arms of her chair and were folded in her lap. “I have no active spy in your entourage, Huy, but servants talk, and I have always had an ear for the conversations of those closest to their employers. One would think that family members are closest, but it’s not so.” She nodded once. “Good servants do not gossip, but of course neither are they dumb. For example, your chief steward Amunmose enters the kitchens with mortar and pestle where many cooks work at all hours. He requests a clove of garlic and a juniper berry to grind up, and a handful of thyme leaves in order to brew an infusion. He says no more. One cook comments to another that the Great Seer must be suffering from an upset stomach. He too says no more. Much food is being returned to the kitchens from your quarters each day and distributed among the servants. Again, a brief word to me in passing is all that is needed for me to draw certain conclusions. Your appetite is lacking, your stomach is giving you trouble: you are of course addicted to opium.” She leaned towards him and, taking his hands in hers, shook them kindly. “I have learned to make correct deductions over many years when the knowledge of what is passing behind palace doors is vitally important for me and for my son. I trust you utterly, my Huy. Do you understand now?”
Her fingers were warmly alive. He wanted to lift them to his face and set her palms against his cheeks. He met her eye. “Yes. And therefore I suppose that I need not tell you that I Scryed for Yuya’s daughter.”
She burst out laughing. “That’s certainly one reason why I asked you to come to my quarters. Are you willing to tell me whether or not you Saw something that I or the King should know?” She released him and sat back.
He glanced around at Ameni and two other servants, alert and motionless in the shadows. “If you had not called for me, I would have petitioned Ameni for an audience with you before long. But what I have to tell you is most definitely for you alone to hear. Please dismiss your men.”
At once she gestured, a flick of the wrist, and Ameni ushered them out, closing the door behind himself. Her attention returned to Huy. She became very still as she waited for him to speak, her body relaxed, her attitude one of complete patience.
Huy’s thoughts flowed quickly as he considered how much of the two visions he ought to relate. The first had been one of triumph, the temple full of incense smoke and joyful music that soared in praise to Amun and spoke of the eternal power of Ma’at. But the second … Mentally, Huy shook himself. This was Mutemwia, the woman with whom he had shared the dangerous years of her husband’s reign, who had spent many nights with him in the office on his estate, talking easily and intimately as the night deepened and the house fell silent. But here, in this noisy conglomeration of hundreds of living quarters, the clusters of building after huge building, a small city within the larger maelstrom of Mennofer where she ruled as Regent to her son and could wield absolute power if she so chose, had she changed? Become altogether a goddess? What was he to her now? A friend and adviser, or a gaming piece to be used? On the wave of a familiar doubt the yearning for poppy suddenly returned, smothering his mind, seeping into his limbs, and he fought it with a desperate spasm of his will.
When he spoke, the words were forced out through stiff lips, but he recounted everything. It took a long time, and only when the lamps stopped crackling did Huy realize that the Queen had left her seat, replenished the oil in them herself, and regained her chair. Picking up his goblet, Huy drained the last of the date wine. Her gaze followed his movements. Huy could tell that she was thinking deeply. Her fingers had begun to tap out an absent rhythm on her linen-clad thighs, and she was frowning.
“This is the last message from the gods that I expected,” she began at last. “I had been waiting until Yey’s funeral was over to request your advice regarding Iaret.”
“Iaret? One of Amunhotep’s sisters, the eldest one who became Osiris Thothmes’ wife?” Huy vaguely remembered a letter from little Amunhotep years ago when his father King Thothmes had taken him on a punitive expedition into Wawat. Iaret had accompanied them. Amunhotep had told Huy how the Queen, his sister, had complained ceaselessly about the heat and discomfort of their surroundings, and about how much he disliked her.
“Yes. I had expected Neferatiri as Thothmes’ Great Queen to attempt a union with our returning Prince in order to supplant my son as King. But the Prince simply wants to go away from court and live as a provincial noble. I believe he is sincere in this. Neferatiri will remain in the harem indefinitely.” Mutemwia slid to her feet. “Iaret’s petition caught me by surprise. She is a fully royal sister. She has a right to occupy the Queen’s throne beside my son.” She spread her arms, a gesture of frustration. “So do Amunhotep’s other sisters, although Iaret’s claim is the strongest. But you tell me that Atum has chosen Tiye. Only two generations separate her from her Mitanni grandfather, a commoner, and moreover a prisoner brought into Egypt by Osiris Thothmes the Third.” She squatted in front of Huy, placing her hands on his knees, anxiously scanning his face. “She’s still a child, Huy, soon to be eleven years old. Amunhotep doesn’t like her very much, although a King’s personal preferences when it comes to marriage are not important—an eligible girl’s lineage and character matter far more. Remember how precarious my son’s claim to the Horus Throne is! His first wife should be of royal blood, his own and his father’s. She should be his sister. Since ancient times it’s been the royal women who carry the power of divine succession in their blood! Tiye’s blood is neither royal nor even Egyptian! Gods, Huy, what are you doing to me?” Rising abruptly, she swung away from him. Huy expected her to begin to pace, but she stood immobile, chewing her lip and still frowning. “Who else knows about the visions? Your scribe? Tiye herself?”
“Paneb definitel
y. I was not stupid enough to tell Tiye what I Saw, but eventually I must. The first vision anyway.”
“The first vision.” Mutemwia exhaled and her body lost its rigidity. Bending over the table, she poured herself wine. Again she did not do what Huy expected. Instead of gulping it, she took two sips and set it down. “The second vision is dire, Huy. Anubis gave you no instruction regarding the first, but he was adamant that what he showed you in the second must not come to pass.”
“Yes.”
“Tiye is linked to some grotesquely malformed man? A King?”
“Egypt’s King. Yes.”
“So Tiye will outlive my son and still be young enough to marry his successor? Then where are my royal grandsons? If Tiye signs no marriage contract with the Horus Throne, if she is denied the Queen’s crown and I command her to wed with some eligible nobleman, both visions will dissolve into nothing.”
“Would you defy the Great He-She?” Huy rose and faced her. She was sweating lightly, the heat of her body releasing gusts of perfume that clung to him, making him giddy with the flare of an emotion so old and yet so familiar to him that in her anxiety and his urgency he did not pause to name it. “Mutemwia, my gift, my curse, this door Atum opens for me—I ignore what it shows me at my peril, and I beg you not to put yourself in danger from the hosts of Khatyu Anubis, which may unleash on both of us if you flout the King’s immediate destiny. The god uses me. Believe me, it’s often more of a punishment than something others envy. Consider Egypt’s destiny also. Who knows what disasters may come upon the country without Tiye at the King’s side?”
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