by Gill, Anton
Huy was aware of Ineny standing behind him, but could not turn to see his expression. Had Ay told him that the queen had rejected his marriage offer? Or was the humiliation so great that he had kept it to himself?
In the interval between his interview with Ankhsenpaamun and his meeting with Ay, Huy’s heart, knowing that the last grains of sand were running through the clock with their usual and yet always unexpected rush, had constructed a plan which might cover all risks. It was a dirty plan, but it was no longer possible to fight in any other way and survive in the Black Land that was being created by this power struggle. Huy knew that the man to save the country was Horemheb; but the man to save the queen was still Ay, if he could be convinced that she was no threat to him. The way to achieve that was to ensure the throne for the old man. If, later, destiny decreed that Horemheb should succeed him, then destiny would be helped greatly by nature, for Ay was old and without a direct heir. Horemheb, too, was not the kind of man to be cast down by frustration and defeat; rather, they would make him roar the louder. For himself, he hoped for nothing more than to be far away from the city, soon, and, despite all the warnings and reservations that rose in his heart, with Senseneb.
‘Very well, if you wish it,’ he told Ay after a pause.
‘Good.’ Ay leant forward.
‘Before I begin, there are conditions.’
Ay pushed himself back off the table and paced to and fro three or four times. After controlling himself, he turned again to Huy.
‘Conditions?’ he asked. His tone was low, but his voice was strained.
‘Yes.’ Huy was also struggling to keep his voice soft, and diplomatically neutral. He did not want to betray the strain he was putting his own courage under. He wished that there were another way out, but he could see none.
‘What are they?’
Huy was still aware of Ineny at his back. His mouth was dry.
‘I want you to guarantee the safety of Queen Ankhsenpaamun.’
Ay involuntarily spread his hands, almost surprised, is that all?’
‘No, but it is important.’
‘I will assure her of my personal protection, without reservation.’ Ay looked at him, and Huy could tell from his eyes that he knew he was not believed.
‘You will also have to drop all thoughts of marrying her.’
Ay reddened. ‘What?’
‘I cannot take your word alone as sufficient guarantee of her safety.’
‘How dare —?’
‘Let us be realistic. I need to be able to take her away from here, to a place of safety, where she will not be molested by you or by Horemheb. I need your help to get her away. In return, I can give you enough damaging information concerning Horemheb’s activities to ensure that, once he knows you have it, he will not contest your claim to the Golden Chair.’
‘No information is that good.’
‘This is. The general would never hold the priesthood or the army together if it became open knowledge. No pharaoh yet has held power who has shown himself to be more of a man than a god, and Horemheb is not heaven-born.’ The last remark went home to Ay, himself a commoner, as it was intended to.
‘I will be generous,’ said Ay graciously, after a short pause for form’s sake. ‘Now, tell me what you know.’
Behind him, Huy heard a faint rustling and the scrape of a chair. Ineny had brought out a scribe’s palette and a scroll.
‘There is something else first,’ he said. ‘The queen is concerned about Nebkheprure Tutankhamun’s journey to the west.’
Ay spread his hands again. ‘He will be given a burial worthy of a great pharaoh. I am in charge of the arrangements myself.’
‘Good.’ Huy thought of the poor funeral furniture he had seen and wondered if Ay would better it. It seemed unlikely, but there was no time to bargain details. ‘Then there is another entombment.’
Ay looked at him: ‘Whose?’
‘The doctor, Horaha’s.’
‘His position guarantees him one.’
‘There may be no one to watch over him. He must be given a formal burial in full accordance with his rank, and all his names must be written down over the lintel and in the chapel. This must not be left to his successor.’
‘You have my word,’ snapped Ay impatiently. ‘But of what importance is Horaha now?’
‘You will hear.’
Ay sat down. Behind him, the sun streamed over the city and the swelling river, making a silhouette out of the old man. He sat still as rock while Huy spoke, his head lowered on to his hands. The silence was broken only by the soft swish of Ineny’s brush as he wrote. Huy told him of the king’s death, of his meeting with Nehesy, about finding the dead tracker with his fistful of silver; about the uninjured horses, and about what Horaha had thought about the king’s injuries. Finally he told him about Horaha’s death, and Nehesy’s arrest and torture. He did not mention where Nehesy was now. The man deserved his peace.
‘Even the threat of an inquiry in any of those areas would stop Horemheb in his tracks,’ said Ay, when Huy had finished. He looked at him. ‘You have done well. But I need proof.’
‘Horaha’s reservations can be demonstrated.’
‘How?’
‘The king’s body is being preserved. No one can disguise the wound on the skull now. If you can lay hands on the chariot, you have a case. But I think all you need do is mention that to Horemheb. You are too powerful for him to destroy; and he cannot kill everyone.’
‘I wonder,’ said Ay.
‘I mean, he has not that much power. But then there is me.’
In the act of rising, Ay looked at him again and sat down.
‘You?’
‘I collected these facts and have a record of them. I am still alive.’
‘Yes?’
Huy hesitated fractionally before continuing. ‘Forgive me, but I cannot trust you absolutely. Now you have what you need, I run the risk of becoming dispensable - I, and all that I seek as a reward.’
‘Your conditions?’
‘Yes.’
‘They make an easy reward to grant. And I give you my word as pharaoh-elect.’ Ay seemed to grow physically as he spoke the words. The new thought occurring to his heart threw years off the lined face. ‘You are lucky that I am pleased with you. I am not offended by what you say. But do not try me too hard.’
‘I know that you are a wise man. Therefore I know too that you are aware of the threat that the queen’s life, and the one within her, pose to the future of your line.’ Huy paused. ‘I must tell you that if I find myself crossed in any way, I will go to Horemheb and warn him. If anything happens to me, the record I have made of these events will go to him. It is safe, in a place you will never locate, and I have made arrangements with friends in the harbour quarter who are such little eels that they will always wriggle through your fingers if you attempt to catch them. But they have strong jaws.’ Privately, Huy wished that he had indeed made such a record.
Ay turned in on himself, the fingers of each hand touching one another at the tips. His face was turned downwards, and it was impossible to see the expression on his face.
‘Do you have a plan for the queen’s departure?’
'Of sorts.’
‘But have you considered Horemheb? You might have to trust me, for all your skill; but if Horemheb thinks that she is alive - wherever she is in the Black Land - he will not rest until he has hunted her down and killed her. And her child.
He has the means to do it, too, Huy. Even if I beat him now, I cannot strip him of his power without risking a division of the army. And we cannot have that.’
‘I have thought of what to do.’ In reality, Huy had only the sketchiest of plans, and a weak and dangerous one.
Ay smiled. ‘I have often said that you were a clever man, Huy.’ He paused delicately. ‘I suppose it is a waste of time to offer you land when I become pharaoh? In return for your service, of course.’
‘Yes.’
Ay pursed his
lips. ‘Then you shall have your wish. Ineny will escort you to the gate.’ He stood up. Ineny packed up his palette and prepared to stow the rolled parchment under his arm.
‘Leave that with me, Ineny,’ said the old Master of Horse.
She was not at their meeting place. Huy squatted down on the flat rock which jutted out forming a ledge over the surface of the River and watched the sluggish, patient water pass. Idling the time away with his thoughts at first, for he was early and felt no alarm, he let his heart drift with the current as it proceeded on its eternal journey north, knowing that this water was the Black Land; that it would flow here long after the pyramids had crumbled to dust and even the memory of them been lost. What was happening now, what seemed of such monumental importance to him and to his own little life, would not affect the future one iota. He thought as far ahead as his imagination would run. Perhaps there were more countries, even beyond those bordering the Great Green to the north and the forests far to the south. Was there life in those countries? Would they, too, one day be discovered, visited, colonised?
Such considerations made him wince. They did not matter to him. He might only be a speck in the scheme of time and space, but the immediate world to which he was condemned surrounded him with matters whose reality and importance could not be reduced just by thinking about them in relative terms. An attacking lion was an attacking lion, no matter how little time and space its action occupied.
The sun dipped over the western horizon and at last Huy felt the coolness of the north wind on his face. He blinked his tired eyes slowly, gratefully. But he did not relax. Senseneb was late now. He settled himself with his back to another rock and, instead of simply continuing to wait, kept watch. His apparent victory with Ay by no means meant that the game was over.
Darkness descended suddenly, and immediately the small, pale lights that mankind lit to keep it at bay appeared on both banks of the River. The flat rock stood at a point just to the south of the city where few people passed at night. Senseneb would have been here before sunset if she was coming at all. Still he waited, though now he knew that it was in vain. After half an hour he stood up, and, still uncertain what to do, made his way back to the city.
By the time he had reached the outskirts he had decided to risk going to her house. In his heart he ran over what the possibilities might be, raking through his memory for any sin of omission or commission which might have led to this. He told himself that it might be nothing at all even though he knew that now any mistake, any irregularity, any broken promise, however small, was not only important but vital.
As he walked through the already deserted streets he began to have second thoughts about visiting Senseneb. It was necessary to keep her out of this, he said to himself. But another part of his heart was desperate to know what had happened to her. The streets were dark, only punctuated by the occasional pale shaft of light from a window where a lamp shone, though the moon was still bright enough to illuminate the middle of the broadest roads. Khons’s chariot had not yet turned so far away from the earth that only a sliver of it could be seen at night.
He walked where the moonlight met the shadow, moving as softly as a cat. The few people he encountered walked past quickly, just allowing eyes to meet briefly for reassurance. Here and there on a corner a drinking house splashed more light, but the windows were small, and the sound from within was muted.
Making his way across the city he had to pass through the harbour quarter. It occurred to him quite irrationally that Senseneb might have gone to his house, so he turned down the side street which led to his little square. The street was narrow and plunged into deep shadow; Huy had not walked twelve paces down it before a hand reached out and grasped his right arm. He stopped dead and reached behind him with his left hand for his knife, but her voice arrested his action.
‘Huy.’ Senseneb’s face emerged from the darkness like the moon from behind a cloud.
Before he could ask questions she put a finger to her lips and led him back the way they had come. She seemed to know her way through the twisting streets of the quarter as well as he did. After a short time they arrived at the quayside. They stopped by a warehouse wall from where they had a broad view of every approach.
‘What’s happened?’ asked Huy, keeping his voice low. He was disturbed at how tightly Senseneb held on to his arm, as a child might, returned to its parent after a beating. Calmly, deliberately, but making a visible effort to keep her voice steady, she told him.
‘I didn’t dare come to meet you in case he followed me. So I went out several times on false errands and returned home. Then I left again and took a rickshaw. I came down to the centre, to the Great Temple of Amun, and got off there. I was so scared I thought at first that I’d bring Hapu with me; but then I thought it’d be better to leave him to guard the house. As soon as I’d made sure Merinakhte hadn’t followed me I went down to the harbour quarter and hid in that street, where I could see the square and your house. I don’t think anyone paid much attention to me, though one man stopped and offered me two deben of copper to go with him. I told him I was worth twice that, and he left.’ She laughed, but then almost immediately started to cry, softly but painfully, turning her face to Huy, nestling up to him and cradling herself in his arms. He held her gently, saying nothing.
At length she was quiet. The kohl around her eyes had run with her tears and he dabbed at it with a fold of his shawl, eliciting a smile again.
‘What shall we do?’
‘No one is going to betray you to Kenamun,’ said Huy, ‘but you must go back home.’
‘No!’
‘It will not be for long. How much have you told Hapu?’
‘He knows that Merinakhte is not welcome. He hates him anyway. That house was as much Hapu’s home as mine.’
‘Whatever happens, Hapu must stay there. You must not make it look as if you are leaving.’ He held up his hand as she opened her mouth to object, it is all right. We will be able to make arrangements for Hapu to follow us after we are gone, if he wishes it.’
‘And when will that be?’
‘Soon.’
‘But my father - ’
Huy looked at her. ‘There is no time to talk of that now. But do not worry. I will come to you soon. I will take every precaution. I must arrange for the queen’s departure. Ay has agreed to it but I must move fast in case he changes his mind.’
‘Can I help you?’
‘Your help will be vital, if all goes well. But not yet.’ He made a move to go.
‘Huy.’ She touched his lips with her fingers.
‘Be brave.’
‘I am terrified.’
‘So am I.’
They smiled at each other, touched foreheads, and kissed. ‘Now go,’ he said.
As Senseneb drew away from Huy and hurried into the night Horemheb, in the low dark workroom of his palace, angrily crushed a document in one large fist and glared up at the two men who stood opposite him. Illuminated from below by the lamps on the table, they looked like demons. One wore an expression of uneasy pleasure. The other looked taut, and angry.
‘What Ineny has just told us is very interesting,’ Horemheb said, turning from Ay’s servant to Kenamun. it makes me wonder what our people have been doing. From your reports I thought that everything was in order.’ it is. This is a new development, but not unexpected.’ Kenamun ran his tongue over his lips. Huy again. He had not forgotten their encounter years earlier, and his regret was that he had not finished him then. His misguided gratitude for the little scribe’s help in solving a case was rebounding on him now.
‘This man Huy is a former servant of the Great Criminal,’ put in Ineny.
‘Yes,’ replied Horemheb. ‘I met him once myself. We have underestimated him.’
‘He is nobody,’ said Kenamun. is he? He has managed to be a thorn in our side.’
‘I know where he lives. I’ll deal with him,’ said Kenamun, eager to recover lost ground.
‘Be car
eful,’ said Ineny. ‘He is under Ay’s protection.’ Kenamun looked at him with contempt. Horemheb ignored them both, retreating into his thoughts. Ineny’s information had come too late. If the man had decided to change sides earlier, things might have been different. He smoothed out the paper he had crumpled. It was a summons from Ay to a meeting, to be attended by the chief priest of Amun and the vizir of the Southern Land, the following morning. That Ay should suddenly have the assurance to summon him to a meeting was a shock. His shoulders slumped. At least he had the advantage of knowing what to expect. They might be able to block him, but they could not destroy him. And if it meant that he had to let Ay wear the pschent and become pharaoh, what then? He had ten years on the old man, and Nezemmut was young. She would have more children.
Still he could have done without this. He looked up at the two greedy, sullen, expectant faces above him. A pair of Set’s vampires, and worth about as much. Perhaps he had used the wrong tools to climb with.
Irresistibly, his thoughts turned to the armies in the north. He had always been more of a soldier than a politician. He would see what could be salvaged from the wreck. In the meantime...
Pointing at Ineny he looked at Kenamun. ‘Pay this shit off and get Huy,’ he said. ‘Now. Tonight. Yourself.’
He rose and crossed to the window, dismissing them with his back. A petty revenge, killing Huy. Like stamping on a scorpion after it had stung you. He heard the men leave the room, the hasty scuffle of their feet on the floor. But if Huy killed Kenamun, that would be no loss. Kenamun had ceased to be useful now.
After leaving Senseneb, Huy returned to his house, but he did not stay long. He washed and changed quickly, filled his purse, and made his way quickly down the street to another square. This was almost as empty as the one on which he lived; but on one corner there was a dingy drinking house, and in the middle of the wall opposite was a low entrance with a sign above it 'it by an oil lamp: City of Dreams. It was a brothel, a familiar place which he had occasionally used, along with the rivermen, tradesmen and craftsmen who lived in the harbour quarter. It was run by a fat Nubian called Nubenehem who had grown so large that she was virtually incapable of moving from the couch she inhabited behind the low table from which she conducted her affairs in the entrance of the house. The dimly-lit room was dominated these days by a statue of the god Min, adorned with an erection of prodigious length and width.