The Amarnan Kings, Book 3: Scarab - Tutankhamen

by Overton, Max

  "Which may last the rest of his life..."

  "I am not the king's enemy, Lord Horemheb, no matter what you think. I have striven to guide Kemet through years that could have wrecked our beloved land. The heresies of Waenre Akhenaten ripped our land apart, then Djeserkheperu Smenkhkare governed well for a short time under my guidance before sliding back into heresy--I told you this, if you remember?" Horemheb nodded, so Ay continued. "Now I guide Kemet through the childhood of a weak king. I will do so until I die, and if I have my say, a strong man will take my place until the king can manage alone."

  "Nobly said," Horemheb said. "If I did not know you better I'd say you were a selfless man. Yet I know you of old as a traitor and a king-killer who..."

  "Before you continue on that path, consider carefully, Lord Horemheb. You were sent out with the king's commission to crush the rebel who calls himself Smenkhkare. Have you succeeded in that task?"

  "You know I have not," Horemheb growled. "You have read my report." To cover his anger he walked over to the table and picked at the dishes of food.

  "Yes, I have, but tell me in your own words rather than the formal mouthing of your scribe about what happened. You know, you should get yourself a new scribe. Your present one has a fair hand but an atrocious command of proper grammar."

  Horemheb, who had been about to admit to writing the report himself, ground his teeth instead. "You know what happened. Read it again."

  Ay leaned back in his chair and belched loudly. "You are here--you tell me." When Horemheb hesitated again, Ay continued in a low but menacing tone, "Must I remind you that I am Tjaty, second only to the king?"

  The General turned and stared at the older man, then abruptly shrugged and laughed. "As you wish, Lord Ay." He assumed a parade ground pose. "I journeyed south, directly after the battle at Waset, in pursuit of the deposed king Smenkhkare..."

  "The rebel," Ay hissed. "Call him what he is--a rebel."

  "As you wish, Lord Ay, though naming him that does not make him one. I pursued the...rebel, though I never saw him, only the signs of his passing. He ambushed and killed the commander of Kubban fort and a hundred of his men. I arrived the day after and tracked them into the hills."

  "Why did you not follow and kill him then? By your own account that was the closest you came to him."

  "I had a hundred and fifty men and no supplies. He knew the country and I did not. I made a command decision."

  "Which has proved costly. Go on."

  "I reached Sehotep-Neteru, where I set about raising a legion. I also sent out spies to scout the land and find the...rebel."

  "Deputy Viceroy Amenemipet complains that your behavior was high-handed and insulting. Could you not have worked with the authorities, rather than irritate them?"

  "Amenemipet was the only one who saw the apprehension of Smenkhkare as unimportant," Horemheb replied. "One wonders why. Anyway, Penno, Lieutenant of the Garrison was of great help. One of his scouts found the rebel camp and we left immediately for a region called 'Between the River' beyond the fourth cataract."

  Ay noticed Horemheb's hesitation and faked a yawn. "Do not imagine I am interested in why natives call a place such an outlandish name. Go on with your story."

  "That is not why I hesitated. In Sehotep-Neteru I saw a girl..."

  Ay raised an eyebrow and leered.

  "...Whom I thought I recognised. Later, I remembered who it was and knew that she must be following my legion. The Lady Beketaten."

  "What?" Ay leaped to his feet, his face pale and eyes wide open. "Are you sure?" He sat down again, shaking his head. "No, you must be mistaken. She is dead."

  "She is not dead."

  "You say you saw her in Sehotep-Neteru? Under what circumstances?"

  "She was in the gardens of the Viceroy's palace, disguised as a Nubian half-breed. I talked to her."

  "And you did not recognise her?"

  "Not then. On the journey south, two soldiers were seen and overheard to mention Khepre, the scarab. Things fell into place, so I..."

  "Why would the name Khepre mean anything?"

  "You do know the Lady Beketaten does not like her name? She prefers to be known as Scarab--Khepre."

  Ay rubbed his forehead with one hand and sighed. "So, on the basis of seeing some servant girl who looked like...no, that's right, she didn't, she looked like a native. Because of this strange native girl you saw and the name of a god uttered by a soldier you deduce a princess known to have died four years ago is alive and well and living in Nubia somewhere. Lord Horemheb, have you taken leave of your senses?"

  "I spoke to her."

  "Yes, you told me that. Lord Horemheb, you have obviously had a very stressful time in Nubia. Perhaps you should take some time to visit your estates, your family...just get drunk with friends..."

  "I sent my troops out onto the riverbank and swept the countryside. I captured Lady Beketaten along with four men. I talked to her at length and she slept under guard in my tent."

  Ay stared long and hard at the General. "You have her?" he whispered.

  Horemheb ignored the question. "She spoke of some most interesting things, Lord Ay. Apparently you tried to kill the King's Councilors after Smenkhkare disappeared--succeeded with some too."

  "That is a lie, as well you know. I told you the truth of it when it happened. Several of them attacked their guards and in the melee, two died and three went missing in the floodwaters. The girl, along with her farm lad lover, had disappeared before."

  "Not true, my Lord Ay. I heard the tale from three of those Councilors--Lady Beketaten, the farm lad and the court physician."

  Ay laughed and got up, shuffling over to the table to pour another cup of wine. "It never occurred to you that she--or the others--might lie?"

  "Why would they lie? What would they have to gain?"

  Ay turned and raised the cup of wine in a salute. "Honest Horemheb. They would have much to gain if they turned you against me."

  "I was not aware I was 'for' you."

  "You work alongside me to bring stability and peace to the land of Kemet on behalf of our king. In this you are indeed 'for' me. What did she talk about?"

  "She asked me to talk to Smenkhkare, rather than fight him."

  "To what purpose?"

  "She sought an agreement between Smenkhkare and Tutankhamen to rule Kemet between them."

  "I would never have agreed to that."

  "You were not to be consulted."

  "What was your response?"

  "I told her I would consider it. I then led my legion south again until we came to the place where the rebel had camped. He was not there, but we found evidence that the tribes of the area had joined with him. We continued south until we came across the remains of a great battle and some Kemetu dead."

  "The rebel?" Ay asked hopefully.

  "Of him there was no sign. We followed for a day or two but the tracks became lost, washed out by the heavy rain."

  "How can the tracks of an army be lost in rain? I have experienced rain too, you know. When I was a young man I hunted antelope in the western desert and even after a thunderstorm I could track the beasts." Ay's gaze became calculating. "I think it more likely your mind became tainted by the proposal of the royal bitch."

  Horemheb snorted derisively. "You have never experienced rain like this. Nor had I until then. Forget water falling from the sky as we sometimes see it in Kemet or the lands to the north. This was like standing in one of the cataracts. It falls so hard you have difficulty breathing, water splashes up from the ground, and the earth turns to mud within minutes. Tracks, even of an army, disappear."

  Ay grunted. "So you turned back?"

  "Yes. I left the bulk of the legion with Penno in Sehotep-Neteru. He will remain watchful of the river and keep spies on every road and track that leads from the far south. I suspect the rebel died or was captured in that battle, but even if he was not--if he ventures out, we will know of it."

  "What does the bitch think is her brot
her's fate?"

  "The Lady Beketaten believes her brother to be alive and in command of his fate."

  "You honour her position too highly," Ay commented sourly. "She is a traitor, though I allow she may have her uses."

  Horemheb frowned. "Such as?"

  Ay shrugged expansively. "Numerous uses. The peasants like her--she could help control unrest. Perhaps we could offer her in marriage to some foreign prince. Where do we need an ally?"

  "Have you thought that idea through?" Horemheb countered. "We have one royal male, the king; and two females, Queen Ankhesenamen and Lady Beketaten. Marrying her off to a foreign prince is to encourage a foreign claimant to the throne. Especially if our king does not have an heir yet...any chance of that happening?"

  "You have not heard? No, how could you. The queen became pregnant and was delivered of a girl--born dead, like the one to her heretic father. One could almost suspect a curse on the family of the heretic."

  "The heretic is gone."

  "But his misdeeds live on." Ay shook his head and a drop of spittle arced to the tiled floor. "But you see our problem? The stability of our Kemet rests on the thin shoulders of one sickly boy who apparently cannot beget live children. What will happen if...may all the gods prevent it...he falls sick or suffers some accident?"

  "We must pray that the gods strengthen our king."

  "Yes, of course. I pray for the king's health and long life daily, as does every loyal person," Ay said unctuously. "But it does no harm to discreetly plan for such a disastrous eventuality."

  Horemheb moved back to the table and poured a cup of water, broke off a crust of bread and selected a ripe fig before carrying the food and drink over to a chair. He sipped and nibbled on the food while he gave some thought to the Tjaty's words. "Those words could be judged treasonous," he said calmly, "Are you so certain of my own discretion?" Ay said nothing and Horemheb continued. "Very well then, if the king fails to produce an heir, the only logical choice as heir is the husband of Lady Beketaten. However, the choices of a husband are limited. Have you given any thought to this?"

  Ay smiled. "How could I? For the last four years I thought her dead."

  "I doubt that stopped you."

  "You worry me, Lord Horemheb. I did not think you knew me that well." Ay laughed. "The next king of the Two Lands would have to be someone used to command, who knows government and has the confidence of nobles, priests and military. That does indeed limit the choice."

  "Let me save you the trouble by pointing out the obvious, Lord Ay. You describe yourself."

  Ay beamed. "Yes, you are right. With the bitch beside me none would dare deny my right to the throne."

  "Of course, there is one other man..."

  Ay frowned. "You?"

  "Indeed," Horemheb said pleasantly. "I am just as capable as you and in addition, the people trust me."

  "The people mean nothing," Ay spat.

  "Perhaps not, but if you became king, Kemet would not solve its problem--the lack of an heir. You have only your daughter Mutnodjme."

  A shadow passed over Ay's face as he thought of his daughters, and especially of Nefertiti, once queen of the Heretic and now in exile somewhere. "Mutnodjme may yet have children."

  "Unlikely," Horemheb countered. "She is already past her years and no man has ever asked for her hand, despite being your daughter. No, Lord Ay, you have no future to offer Kemet. I, on the other hand, am young enough to marry and father an heir."

  "You intend to marry the bitch," Ay said flatly.

  Horemheb smiled. "The point is moot. I am in no position to persuade or force the girl. She escaped, along with her companions." He looked at Ay, waiting for the explosion of anger.

  "A girl, a farm lad and a physician stroll out from the midst of a legion commanded by Kemet's finest general. Am I the only one to see the irony of that?" Ay held himself calmly, though a vein in his left temple throbbed. "Explain to me how that could happen, Lord Horemheb."

  "What does it matter? She left without my knowing it."

  "That is true." Ay shrugged. "It is done and cannot be undone, but tell me how it happened anyway."

  "She chose her time well and she had help," Horemheb said simply. "You may not wish to believe it but there are many men within and outside the army who support the return of Smenkhkare."

  "Are you one of them?"

  "No, I have told you that before. Smenkhkare destabilises Kemet so I will defend Tutankhamen and his rule with my life. If the price of that is your control of the reins of state, then I will accept it."

  "I thank you for your support," Ay said dryly. "And if the king dies?" he added softly.

  "Then we shall see."

  "I am strong enough to keep control without you."

  "So you say. I would not put it to the test."

  "You cannot hope to become king yourself, Horemheb. Why would you stand in my way?"

  "You want it too much."

  Ay laughed, though without much humour. "Ambition is not a crime."

  "Not of itself, but if it impedes justice or stands in the way of the legal succession..."

  "And if the king names me his successor?"

  "That will not happen. From all accounts, you have a youth about to break free of all your restraints. He will not make you his heir. You are Divine Father, not Divine Son."

  "But if he did?"

  Horemheb sat silently for a time. "He will not," he said at last, "But if he did, I would support his will."

  "Then that is all I ask."

  "He will not do it."

  Now Ay sat in silence, regarding the general calmly. "You could be my heir," he said softly. "To rule as king after me."

  Horemheb shifted uncomfortably in his chair and glanced about him. "Now we both contemplate treason. If Tutankhamen names you successor it is legal, though by rights you would need to make a royal marriage. Beketaten is the only possible match and neither of us can have her. In turn, you cannot legally make me an heir to something you do not have. And equally, there is no royal marriage to welcome me into the family."

  "Let me worry about my own marriage, Lord Horemheb. As for your own, well, there is always my daughter Mutnodjme." Ay smiled and raised a hand as if to ward off protest. "I know, she is neither young nor beautiful, but you would be marrying her for neither of those qualities." He leaned closer as if to impart a great secret. "When I am king, she will be a royal princess. Marriage to her secures your own legitimacy."

  "But I would have to marry again to father children if your daughter is too old. She would be wife only in name."

  "So marry again. I do not look to have my grandchild on the throne."

  "You are very free with your daughter's affections, Lord Ay. What is the benefit of such a match to you? I cannot see you doing anything selflessly."

  "You wound me, Lord Horemheb," Ay said affably. "I have only the noblest motives. But you are right. I will not hide the fact that Kemet's foremost general would be a valuable asset, especially if there is opposition to my enthronement."

  "Then I will consider your proposal."

  "That is all I can ask."

  "What of Nakhtmin?" Horemheb asked. "You said you wanted to groom him to become Tjaty after you."

  "Tjaty, not King. He is capable but will always need guidance."

  Horemheb nodded. "And how will you persuade the king to make you his heir?"

  "Let me worry about that. There is something you can do in the meantime though. Convince your friend Paramessu not to interfere."

  "Paramessu?" Horemheb raised his eyebrows in astonishment. "How is that a problem? He is under my command."

  "Ah, that is right, you have not heard. While you were away, Tutankhamen raised an army and marched to conquer the Hittites. I regret to say he misjudged the situation somewhat and Paramessu had to rescue him. As a result, the king gave him the title of 'General of All the Armies of Kemet'."

  "But that is my position," Horemheb said, his forehead wrinkling. "How can the
king give away that which is mine?"

  "I do not know, Lord Horemheb. Perhaps you should ask him...or your friend." Ay pursed his lips. "This is indeed a problem. Perhaps I should be asking Paramessu for his support, rather than you. If you are powerless, you are no help to me."

  "I am not powerless," Horemheb growled. He rose to his feet and bowed perfunctorily. "I will take my leave, Lord Ay. I must see the king at once."

  Ay inclined his head graciously. "Go then, Lord Horemheb. Secure your future."

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  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The streets of Men-nefer were packed with wailing spectators as the great procession in honour of Asar wound its way ritually from the temple deep within the city to the edge of the western desert. Waset, far to the south, was renowned as the city of the god Amun, but Men-nefer, the older city, was the centre of worship of the god of the underworld. The festival of Sokar was held in the fourth month of the Kemetu calendar and lasted for six days. Though not one of the joyous festivals, it held a central place in the minds of the people because of its theme--that of death and rebirth. The highlight of the festival was the great play that re-enacted those distant events when gods ruled as kings over Kemet.

  Asar was a great king of Kemet and ruled his people with justice and love. His wife was the most beautiful goddess Auset, and she was rich in magic. Set, his brother, was god of the underworld and when he saw the love the people had for his brother, resolved to kill him. He chopped his brother into thirteen bits and scattered the body to every corner of Kemet, determined that his wife would not even be able to bury him. Auset, however, used her magical skills and found twelve of the bits, binding them together with linen strips, natron and spices. Only Asar's penis was missing, having been eaten by a fish sent by Set. Auset fashioned a phallus from gold and the god Anpu, the jackal-headed guardian of the dead brought Asar back to life for one night. Auset and Asar made love and conceived a son called Heru, god of the sky, whose symbol is the hawk. Asar descended to the realm of the dead and Heru fought Set and defeated him, casting him out into the red desert.