The Amarnan Kings, Book 3: Scarab - Tutankhamen

by Overton, Max

  The woman smiled. "I will take you to him."

  "Are you one of my brother's women?"

  The woman laughed and released the horse's head, coming around to the rear before stepping into the chariot with Tutankhamen. "I am my own woman, and your sister."

  "My sister? I do not have...are you Beketaten? I was told you were dead."

  "Many have tried to kill me, little brother. And I prefer to be called Scarab these days."

  Tutankhamen stiffened in sudden anger. "Even if you are my sister, I am a king. You will not address me in such a familiar way."

  Scarab smiled and pointed ahead and slightly to the right. "Djeserkheperu Smenkhkare, your brother and mine, is that way, little majesty."

  Tightlipped, Tutankhamen started the chariot moving again and the corridor of men continued to open in front and close behind, the chariot and column seeming almost to ride upon a wave in the sea of men. Then the way was blocked again, this time not by a red-haired woman but by a bearded man who limped toward the chariot with a hand upraised.

  "What is your business here?"

  "That is for my brother Smenkhkare to know. Who are you?"

  "I am Menkure, Tjaty of Djeserkheperu, and little happens without my knowing of it first. What is your business with the king?"

  "I am the king."

  The bearded man smiled, his eyes flicking toward the figure of Scarab and softening. "Yes, of course. Well, if you will not tell me, I must take you to meet the elder king. Come, alight from your chariot and accompany me, young king."

  "These men with me are not to be harmed," Tutankhamen declared.

  Menkure's eyes roamed over the column of men with their reversed spears and at the sweating general at its head. "No harm will come to them save at my king's command." He saw a familiar face in the wall of Nubians. "Aspalta, these men are in your care. See that they have refreshment while they wait."

  Psenamy pressed forward immediately. "Your majesty, I should accompany you..."

  "No," Menkure said firmly. "Come, young king. It would not do to keep the elder king, your brother, waiting." He turned and walked away and Tutankhamen, his jaw tensing in anger, followed him, with Scarab falling into step alongside.

  Scarab looked sideways at the slim youth beside her, the double crown of Kemet bobbing on his head. She saw the anger and hurt in the young man's face and in his tensed shoulders. "Be calm, little brother," she murmured. "Menkure means no disrespect, but he has been loyal to your older brother all his life. He sees Smenkhkare as the rightful king and yourself as a puppet of Ay."

  "I am no man's puppet."

  Scarab smiled. "Yes, I can see that."

  "I came south from Men-nefer to end Ay's rule."

  "If you had delayed a while we would have done it for you."

  "But you still mean to bring my reign to an end."

  Scarab shrugged. "When last I talked with Horemheb, I suggested a plan to bring peace to Kemet."

  "What did it involve?"

  "Compromise."

  Before Tutankhamen could press Scarab for more details, guards challenged them and stood aside, revealing a large tent and a man standing in the entrance, a man scarcely taller than the young king, and like him, wearing the double crown of Kemet. Menkure marched up to the man and saluted.

  "Here's the lad, Djeser, all puffed up with pride as you can see. He won't tell me his business."

  Smenkhkare looked at Menkure for a few moments before taking him aside and murmuring in a low voice, "Menkure, old friend, you are closer to me than any brother, yet I will exile you in an instant if you show such disrespect again for this young man. He is a consecrated and anointed king of Kemet, like me, and an insult to him is an insult to me. Do I make myself clear?"

  Menkure flushed and looked down at the ground. "Yes, majesty. I am sorry, majesty."

  Smenkhkare clapped his Tjaty on the shoulder. "Then it is forgotten. Send for wine and have the guards retire fifty paces. Our talks here are private." The older king turned back to the younger king. "I welcome you, Nebkheperure Tutankhamen to my tent. I fear the furnishings are sparse and the wine mediocre, but my circumstances do not permit extravagance as yet."

  "You are my brother Djeserkheperu Smenkhkare?" Tutankhamen asked. His eyes were drawn to the older king's puckered scars of the crocodile's teeth on his body. "I...I accept your hospitality, but if I may," he pointed back toward the walled city, "I can offer you more comfortable lodgings in my own apartments."

  Smenkhkare laughed politely. "I think I will remain here until I have rid the city and palace of certain vermin. Tjaty Ay still lives?"

  "He does, but he is mine to remove. I am king."

  "As am I," Smenkhkare said wearily. "As am I. Well, I am not a good host keeping my guest waiting." He stepped aside. "Please enter and make my home your own. You have met our sister, Beketaten, who now calls herself Scarab?"

  Tutankhamen allowed himself to be seated on a camp stool next to Scarab, while the older king bustled around fetching silver cups from a chest. Menkure arrived with soldiers bearing wine and water, river-chilled. He dismissed the servants and with his own hands poured wine for all four of them.

  Smenkhkare smiled at the young man in the heavy double crown. "Perhaps before we start I might suggest we both remove our crowns and symbols of authority? We are both kings here but I think we should talk as men rather than kings."

  Tutankhamen thought for a while, and then placed his cup on the packed earth floor of the tent. "Gladly, brother." He reached up and lifted the red and white crowns from his head and placed them on the ground beside him.

  Smenkhkare followed suit and sat down facing the young man. "What is it you want, brother?"

  "I want an end to the war and the killing of Kemetu."

  "Very commendable. How do you intend to accomplish this?"

  "By coming to an agreement with you. There must be common ground."

  Smenkhkare quirked a smile. "I fear our common ground is an area of contention, young brother. My intention is to be king in Waset once more, as I was before Tjaty Ay tried to kill me and put you in my place."

  "Then we have a problem."

  Silence fell on the little group for several minutes before the young king stirred again and looked at Scarab. "Sister, you said earlier you had talked of a compromise with Tjaty Horemheb. I would be interested in hearing the proposal."

  "Horemheb is Tjaty?" Menkure broke in. "When did this occur? Is Ay no longer Tjaty then?"

  "Five years ago I battled the Hit...the Amorites and afterward I did not return to Waset where Ay ruled as Tjaty. I lived in Men-nefer with my queen and I made Lord Horemheb my Tjaty over Ta Mehu, limiting Ay's influence to Ta Shemau."

  Menkure whistled. "Bravely done! I'm surprised Ay let you live."

  "I have many men who love me," Tutankhamen said coolly, "And Lord Horemheb, who is worth many men."

  "Speaking of Horemheb--where is he?" Smenkhkare asked. "Surely you did not leave him in the north when you came down to face Ay?"

  "He is on the West Road with...with ten legions. He will be returning soon."

  "Be honest, young majesty," Menkure said softly. "He has three legions only, the Heru, the Re, and one other with unfamiliar insignia."

  "And you are less than honest if you already know where he is."

  Menkure bridled at his accusation but Smenkhkare restrained him.

  "My apologies, younger brother. But we would still like to know the identity of the other legion."

  "The Khent-abt," Tutankhamen said glumly. "Drawn from that sepat. I forgot you would have spies too. However, he will be returning soon. I sent him word as soon as we saw you."

  "Then let us decide on a course of action before he does, and the bloodshed starts again," Smenkhkare said. "Scarab, you were about to tell us of Horemheb's compromise."

  "It was actually my idea," Scarab declared. "But Horemheb thought it worth trying. He was going to put it to you in Nubia, but you eluded him. The idea wa
s a sharing of power."

  "Sharing the throne?"

  "You were co-regent with Akhenaten for three years; earlier, Akhenaten was co-regent with our father Nebmaetre. Later, Tutankhamen was co-regent with Akhenaten. There is ample precedent."

  Both kings frowned, considering an option that had occurred to neither. "Our brother Akhenaten locked himself away in his city of Akhet-Aten until he died," Tutankhamen said. "Is one of us to suffer the same fate--being a prisoner of the other?"

  "No. My idea was that one would rule Ta Mehu from Men-nefer, the other Ta Shemau from Waset," Scarab said.

  "Who would get which Kingdom?"

  "I would want Waset," Smenkhkare said quickly. "You already rule from Men-nefer, so there should be no problem."

  "I do not like the idea of splitting the kingdoms," Tutankhamen said. "For time out of mind, Kemet has been the Two Kingdoms, Upper and Lower, White and Red, Lotus and Papyrus. Are we to change all this?"

  "Only the gods are eternal," Menkure murmured.

  "What of things like trade and exploitation? Kush is a source of gold but if I ruled only over Ta Mehu, I would lack many necessities of life."

  "You would have access to the northern trade routes which I would not," replied Smenkhkare. "There are many inequalities but I do not doubt they could be sorted out. We can come to agreements on such things."

  "I would have the Hittite menace," Tutankhamen said.

  "And Horemheb and the northern army to face it," Smenkhkare replied.

  "Besides," Scarab countered, "Both kingdoms will still be Kemet. Each king would come to the aid of the other if requested. It is not really as if the Kingdoms are split, just that you two have influence over different things."

  The two kings thought again, mulling over ideas in their minds.

  "Why do you want Waset?" Tutankhamen asked. "Waset is the City of Amun. Do you seek to stamp out the god Amun like our brother did? I could not allow that."

  "What gave you that idea?" Smenkhkare looked puzzled. "I have always sought a balance in the worship of the gods."

  "You do not seek to restore the Aten?"

  "Only as one of Kemet's gods. Our brother Akhenaten went too far, I would never do that."

  "I was told differently."

  "By Ay, no doubt."

  Tutankhamen nodded. "And by Horemheb."

  "Why would he believe that?" Smenkhkare shook his head. "Well, it matters not--the tale is untrue."

  "You swear it? On all the gods of Kemet?"

  "Yes, and on my word as king."

  "And you Menkure, Scarab my sister, you swear this is true?"

  "On the gods," Menkure said quietly.

  Scarab hesitated for an instant. "I have dedicated myself to the Nine of Iunu. I will swear on their names that Djeserkheperu Smenkhkare has always shown proper reverence for all the gods of Kemet."

  "Then that is good enough for me," Tutankhamen said. "I think we can come to agreement on this proposal."

  "Not so fast, little brother." Smenkhkare laughed. "There is a lot that must be agreed on first, before we can implement this idea. There is Ay for one and Horemheb for another. Between us, who will have precedence when it comes to rituals and receiving foreign embassies? How will taxes be divided and what are we to do should there be a dispute between...?"

  "Why should this be a concern?" Tutankhamen interrupted. "That is why we have Tjatys and Councils. Let them work out the details."

  Smenkhkare frowned. "A king's duty is to lead and to represent the people before the gods. To do this he must be intimately involved with every aspect..."

  "You may do as you wish, but I have ruled Kemet for nine years now, brother. That is three times as long as you ever did. What is more, Kemet was in chaos when I was enthroned, but I brought order and proper worship back. I think I know what I'm doing."

  Smenkhkare stood up, the blood rushing to his face. "You dare to call me inexperienced? Everyone knows that Ay chose you to be king because he could not control me. He chose you, he crowned you and he ruled through you. When you ran away to Men-nefer, all you did was exchange the rule of Ay for that of Horemheb. You have not reigned as king over Kemet these last nine years, Nebkheperure Tutankhamen; you have been a mere mask for the real king--Ay."

  "That is a lie!" Tutankhamen leaped to his feet and stood toe to toe with his older brother, his fists clenched. "I am a real king. I rule, not Ay."

  Scarab was likewise on her feet, taller than both her brothers. "Be calm," she said. "We all have disagreements; please do not let them get the better of you. Do not jeopardise this peace we have achieved."

  "We have achieved nothing," Smenkhkare growled. "I will not be subservient to this boy, nor even on equal terms with a child who shirks his responsibilities."

  "My lord king, Djeser..." Menkure muttered. "This is not helpful."

  "Stay out of it," Smenkhkare warned. "You too, sister. This is between us." He fixed the younger king in a fierce stare. "What is it to be, lad? Peace or war?"

  "Wh...what do you mean? We had a plan...Scarab's plan..."

  "That cannot work without an acknowledgement from you that I am king of Kemet and you are merely co-regent. I will give you Men-nefer to govern, and a Tjaty to look after you. You will have all the trappings of a king but none of the responsibility. Your allowances will be reviewed annually." Smenkhkare smiled encouragingly. "What do you say lad?"

  Tutankhamen had paled as his brothers recitation had progressed, but now anger burst out of him and he struck out in frustration. "You shall not be king," he yelled. "I am king, over all of Kemet, and my General Horemheb will bring his legions and crush you."

  "You are very brave for a man alone among his enemies," Smenkhkare observed. "Would you like to reconsider your threats?"

  "Only a coward would threaten a king that way," Tutankhamen shouted. "You are nothing but a bandit for all your airs and you merely wish to plunder my land of Kemet. I will not let you."

  "How are you going to stop me?" Smenkhkare sneered.

  "Horemheb..."

  "He is not here. Nebkheperure Tutankhamen, this audience is at an end. You will be given safe conduct to the gates of Waset but we attack within the hour. I promise you we will take Waset by nightfall."

  "Brother, no." Scarab took Smenkhkare's arm. "Consider. There must be another way."

  Smenkhkare shook free of his sister. "This boy holds his people in his hands. If he will forego his pride and bow down to me, his elder brother and rightful king, I will spare him. Otherwise, he and any man who bears arms against me will die."

  "Then fight me alone for the Kingdoms."

  "What?"

  "Single combat, brother, with the fate of Kemet at stake. Do not involve innocent people. The quarrel is between us."

  "You are a fool, boy. You have not yet reached your strength and I am a man trained to arms. At least battle gives you a chance."

  Tutankhamen shrugged. "If you are afraid..."

  Smenkhkare's eyes narrowed and he balled his fists. "You will die for that, brother."

  "So you will meet me, alone?"

  "To death, young brother, for I will not yield."

  Tutankhamen nodded, his face pale. "Let it be so." He started removing his heavy jewelry.

  "Your majesty," Menkure said anxiously. "It cannot be done here and now. It will be said that he came into our camp and died here. The nobles would perceive it as treachery and rise against us."

  "Then return to Waset and I will meet you outside the South Gate in two hours time. We each bring one man to carry our arms and bear witness. Agreed?"

  Tutankhamen thought for a moment and then nodded. "Agreed."

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  * * *

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Ay was waiting by the open South Gate when Tutankhamen, his face pale and set, drove through in his chariot, general Psenamy and his veteran guard running hard to keep up. He struggled to keep a look of intense disappointment off his face as grooms hurried
to snatch at the horses' bridles, running alongside and guiding the chariot into the palace compound and to a halt by the stables. A few minutes later, as Tutankhamen stood issuing orders for the changing of the horses, his Tjaty trotted up, wheezing from the exertion.

  "Success...your majesty?" Ay struggled to catch his breath, his face red and sweat staining his white robe of office.

  The king regarded Ay with an unfriendly stare for a few moments before speaking. "You may have your wish yet, Ay. Come to my rooms in an hour's time." He hurried past his Tjaty and disappeared into the palace, calling for his personal servants and a scribe as he ran up the steps, the double crown of Kemet tucked under one arm.

  Ay arrived at the king's apartments promptly at the end of the hour to find the young king had bathed and changed into a military kilt and stout sandals. He had foregone his usual cosmetics, perfumes and jewelry and sat looking out of a window at the trees and shrubs of the palace gardens. Beside a table sat the king's official scribe and one of his assistants, putting the finishing touches to several documents, drying the ink with a scattering of fine sand, folding the papyrus and tying it with linen strings. Ay glanced curiously at the papers as he passed but could not read them. Tutankhamen turned away from the window as his Tjaty entered and saw him look.

  "You want to know who I have written to."

  Ay bowed. "Only if you wish to tell me, your majesty."

  "To my wife, Queen Ankhesenamen. Also a handful of letters to various officials...and a letter to Lord Horemheb, giving him instructions in the event of my death."

  Ay managed to look suitably horrified though a feeling of cold elation gripped his heart. "Your death, majesty? Pray do not speak such ill-omened words. I shall send for the priests that they might offer prayers for your safety."

  Tutankhamen dismissed his scribes and they hurried off with the letters and documents. He looked out of the window again and noted how close to noon the sun stood. "Horemheb has sent word that he will be here in the city by sunset."

  "May the gods be praised...what was in the letter to Horemheb?"

  "I told him what passed between me and my brother Smenkhkare today and I left instructions that in the event of my death you were not to survive me by more than a day." A faint smile crossed the king's lips. "That is a task that will give him joy, I think."