by Paul Doherty
A general discussion broke out. I looked to Ay for guidance, but he gazed serenely back. That was God’s Father! Ay was determined on confronting this usurper in the Delta; everything else would have to wait. He moved his head, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye, whilst his fingers played with the blue and gold pectoral glittering on his chest. That look was enough. Ay was prepared to co-operate with Meryre and he would probably advise me to do the same. The High Priest had been astute. Thebes was dangerous. Whatever Ankhesenamun said, only the Gods knew who the Shabtis of Akenhaten really were. The City of the Aten was easy to protect and Tutankhamun would be safer there.
‘Will the Lady Ankhesenamun go with him?’ I asked.
‘My lord,’ Meryre spread his hands, ‘who accompanies the Prince is up to you, his official protector. I am simply saying the City of the Aten is safer.’
‘And full of your supporters,’ Rameses shouted.
Huy and Maya nodded in agreement.
‘My supporters?’ Meryre retorted. ‘Those who support me support you as well, as I am sure those who support you support me. The Prince will be well looked after by Mahu’s retinue. What are you implying, Lord Rameses? That some faction will seize the Prince and have him crowned? But Pharaoh can only be crowned either in Memphis, where you have your troops, or Thebes. The coronation regalia will remain here.’
‘But the City of the Aten will be full,’ Rameses insisted, ‘of your supporters, those who follow the cult of the Aten.’
‘As Thebes is full of our enemies,’ Tutu retorted.
‘And now we come to our second demand,’ Meryre continued smoothly. ‘My lord Tutu,’ he gestured round, ‘and other supporters of the Aten will remove themselves from Thebes. The assassination of General Rahmose has clearly demonstrated the dangers of staying here. I demand they be given the protection of the great fortress of Buhen.’
batiu
(Ancient Egyptian for ‘red-haired fiends’)
Chapter 4
‘Steady, steady, keep on course!’
The pilot and captain of our imperial barge, The Joy of Isis, stood in the high prow above the gold carving of the Goddess Isis and carefully took the soundings as they guided us through the sandbanks, heading for mid-stream. The Nile was at the end of its inundation but was still fast and strong, whilst its concealed sandbanks were a danger to the most experienced sailor.
We had left Thebes early that morning, three days after the meeting of the Royal Circle. Ay insisted that speed was the order of the day, so the royal barges and their escort of marines had been quickly prepared. The sky was already scored with red. In the accompanying barge, The Glory of Seth, I could hear Meryre and his entourage singing their hymn to the Sun Disc, impervious to the shouts and calls of their own captain and pilot.
Sobeck and Djarka sat outside the cabin which stood amidships, a long, high chamber decorated inside and out with lozenge shapes of gold, blue, green and red. The huge mast soared above us, its red sails reefed. The oarsmen sat ready, but the craft was still in the hands of the captain, his pilot and the two helmsmen manning the great rudders on the jutting prow, which was carved in the snarling face of Sekhmet the Destroyer. I climbed on to the archers’ platform and stared at the five great war barges full of marines and imperial guardsmen who would accompany us most of the way. Inside the cabin, Prince Tutankhamun and Princess Ankhesenamun were resting; the latter had only been allowed to bring the lady Amedeta, whilst I considered it safer if Djarka alone looked after the Prince.
The river mist had now burned off. From behind us rose a cheer as the crews of the other barges realised they were free of the sandbanks. A strong, fine day. On either side of us stretched the rich black soil, and, beyond, the various shifting golds and greens of the ripening rye, oat and wheat fields. The gleaming white of the temples of Luxor and Karnak eventually disappeared. The captain left the pilot shouting at the steersmen to maintain the course set. The leading oarsman intoned a hymn to Hapi, the River God, ‘Our delight is in him who guides us …’
The refrain was taken up by the men as the oars were lowered. Other hymns rose faintly from the accompanying barges. I climbed down, and Sobeck and Djarka followed me further up into the prow, where we could talk free of Ay’s eavesdroppers. Djarka rolled out carpets, of bead matting but still better than the hard wood of the ship, and we ate our morning meal: light beer and yesterday’s bread followed a pewter bowl of sliced fruit. Sobeck dipped his finger in the beer and carefully wrote four hieroglyphs, three birds and a sitting man, the word for ‘beware’.
‘Beware of what?’ I teased.
Sobeck gestured at the cabin, then at The Glory of Seth.
‘Beware of the Princess Ankhesenamun,’ he murmured, ‘as well as Meryre.’
I had informed him during our hasty preparations about what had happened at the Royal Circle, though we had never discussed it. Meryre’s proposals had been finally accepted. We would journey upriver. Djarka would take the Prince and Princess into the City of the Aten, whilst Tutu and other members of Meryre’s entourage would withdraw to Buhen, the great fortress which dominated Egypt’s route south into the land of Kush. I would proceed, with Meryre, to the Delta.
‘I am surprised,’ Sobeck sipped from his beer, ‘that God’s Father Ay agreed to all of it.’
‘My lord Ay had no choice, and neither do we,’ I replied. ‘Thebes is very dangerous, full of discontent. The Shabtis of Akenhaten do pose a threat to anyone linked with the past, though I must admit …’
‘What?’ Djarka demanded.
‘I am confused,’ I responded. ‘Some of it I understand, some of it I don’t. Meryre and myself will, I suppose, be protected. The City of the Aten is a secure place for the Prince. I can understand Meryre’s entourage wanting somewhere in which they will feel safe whilst at the same time assuring us that there will be no danger to the Prince during his stay at the City of the Aten.’
‘What is Meryre plotting?’ Djarka demanded.
‘Meryre doesn’t concern me,’ I replied. ‘My lord Ay does. What if, let us say,’ I dipped a finger into my own beer and drew a circle on the dry wood, ‘the Royal Council is the rim of a wheel. The centre is Lord Ay.’
‘And the spokes?’ Djarka asked.
‘The lady Ankhesenamun,’ I murmured. ‘What if the lady Ankhesenamun, on behalf of her grandfather, Ay, conspires to be the ally and friend of every faction in the Royal Circle?’
‘Including Horemheb and Rameses?’ Sobeck scoffed. ‘Such officers would have little to do with her. She is the daughter of Nefertiti.’
‘She’s also the daughter of Pharaoh,’ I retorted. ‘They might not be interested in her but they could be interested in what she can offer. One day she will be Queen of Egypt and, if the Gods have their way, mother of Egypt’s heir. I know she has made similar approaches to Meryre whilst at the same time contacting me.’
‘So Ay controls his own granddaughter?’ Djarka asked.
‘Yes,’ I agreed. ‘Using her to find out what is happening in each camp.’
‘But the murders?’ Sobeck demanded.
‘What if …’ I paused. ‘What if the Shabtis of Akenhaten are just a group of assassins, individuals like that gardener, controlled by Ankhesenamun and her grandfather? They use them to strike at those who, apparently, betrayed Akenhaten. They keep alive and vibrant the sense of danger, of imminent threat …’
‘So General Rahmose’s death was to frighten Meryre and the rest?’
‘Possibly.’ I clinked my goblet against Sobeck’s. ‘What if Meryre is truly frightened? Ay draws him into discussion. He agrees that I will accompany him to this usurper’s camp but offers him the fortress of Buhen as a place of sanctuary.’
‘Well away,’ Djarka agreed, ‘from both the Delta and the troops of the usurper, and just as far from Thebes and the City of the Aten.’
‘Yes, I can follow your reasoning, Baboon of the South,’ Sobeck agreed. ‘Ay has now neatly divided his enemies. Meryre
is sent north, his supporters go south, whilst the Prince is moved out of harm’s way. Yes, it possesses a certain twisted logic, though it’s a dangerous game to play. If this usurper sweeps south, and Meryre’s faction decide to support him, they occupy one of the most powerful fortresses in the kingdom, the gateway to the gold mines of Kush.’
‘Ay is a gambler,’ I replied. ‘He will deal with one danger at a time. He first wants to strengthen his hand in Thebes, use this crisis to get rid of his enemies. Meryre to the north, Tutu to the south, even Generals Horemheb and Rameses are preparing to leave for Memphis.’
‘So Ay remains in Thebes building up his power? But why, Mahu, should the Shabtis of Akenhaten – and it must have been them – launch an attack on you?’
‘We know it was the Shabtis of the Akenhaten,’ I replied. ‘When the room was cleared of snakes we found two Aten scarabs lying on the floor – they’d been overlooked in the confusion. That made me reflect about the night of the attack. I was tired, sitting in my own chamber. I didn’t ask that servant to come in to see if I needed food or to clear those piles of linen. So I made very careful enquiries. According to a chamberlain, the servant who was bitten by the snake claimed he’d been sent to my chamber; the fellow repeated the same story to my mercenaries who let him through. He actually told them how he had been summoned to clear certain cloths away as well as see if I needed anything to eat or drink.’
‘So he was the intended victim?’ Sobeck demanded.
‘Yes, that attack was to show Meryre that the Shabtis of Akenhaten strike at anybody, not just members of his retinue. A carefully measured ruse to heighten fear, to keep the Royal Circle united, at least for a while, in the face of the common threat, which makes me think that Ay and his wily granddaughter are behind all of this.’
‘If you’ve reached that conclusion,’ Djarka murmured, ‘then so will others.’
‘I suppose they will. It’s just a matter of who will move first. Who will succeed? Once this present threat is removed, things will become a little clearer.’
Our journey north continued uneventfully. We passed Denderah, the great turning on the Nile. At first nothing seemed wrong, out of place or amiss. The river traffic was busy with pleasure boats and fishing smacks. On the banks the peasants and farmers, rejoicing at the effects of the inundation, were preparing to sow another harvest. Yet every so often we saw plumes of black smoke, dark against the light blue sky, whilst the smell of burning mixed with the rich stench of Nile mud, fish and rotting vegetation. The marines I sent to investigate brought back reports of desert raiders on the eastern banks, whilst on the west, Libyan war parties had plundered unprotected, isolated communities. Sometimes these marauders were captured and their corpses impaled on stakes, fixed on the high cliffs above the river, black shadows against the sky. On one occasion we passed a sandbank where at least ten river pirates had been impaled by the mayor of the local city. The breakdown of law and order could also be glimpsed in the empty quaysides. Occasionally we’d go ashore, my standard carried before us displaying a leaping gazelle against a gold and blue background and, on the reverse, the white feather of Ma’at. We marched along silent streets into deserted marketplaces.
Elsewhere the effects of disruption were difficult to detect. The quaysides and docks of the great cities were busy. Barges unloaded aromatic gum, bark, cinnamon, gold, ivory, ebony, as well as precious wood from Canaan. When we returned to the river, we passed numerous barges carrying jars of wine, liquors, fruits, Lebanese cedar, oxen, cattle, and on one occasion even a herd of baby ibex. At Abydos, however, where the great mass of the Temple of Osins stretched above a dark forest of green palm trees, Governor Motep nosed the ground before me in the precincts of the Temple of Min and whined about the growing incursions and lawlessness.
By the time we reached the City of the Aten I had learnt a lot. Egypt’s great cities were prosperous, their quaysides and workshops busy as always; the carvers of stone and wood, the goldsmiths and merchants did flourishing trade. Nevertheless, any town which lacked troops or strong fortifications, any farmstead or village vulnerable to attack, lived under a constant danger from sand-dwellers, Libyan raiders or the host of river pirates who skulked in the lonely stretches of the Nile, seeking out the weak and vulnerable. Of course, news from the Delta had not helped matters, heightening the growing sense of panic, of confusion at what was really happening and what fresh dangers were emerging. Perhaps it was this that changed my mind when we reached our destination.
I stood by the taffrail and stared out at the City of the Aten, its white buildings dazzling in the late afternoon sun. The City of the Aten! I had visited this cove stretching up to the eastern cliffs when it was nothing but sand and shale. I had seen all the power of Egypt transform it into Akenhaten’s Holy City, the place where God and Man met. I had witnessed all its glory, the power of Pharaoh and the splendour of Nefertiti. I had also mourned its decline, ravaged by plague as well as by murderous conspiracy and bloody intrigue. I stared across at its deserted quayside. The ghosts of all those I’d known, loved and hated came out to greet me. I stood there, ignoring all requests and questions, till the sun set and my body chilled. I stood and reflected on all I had seen and made my decision. We would not land there. I brushed aside Meryre’s furious protests. He could land if he wanted to; the Prince and I would continue north to Memphis, the white-walled city.
At Memphis, Horemheb’s principal staff officer, Colonel Nebamun, entertained us in the courtyard of his elegant two-storey house overlooking the river. He offered incense to Seth the Announcer of Battles and quickly came to the point, the question which had so infuriated my entourage.
‘Why,’ he asked, glancing up at the awning snapping under a strong breeze, ‘didn’t the Royal Circle at Thebes act more swiftly? More importantly, why have you brought Tutankhamun and Princess Ankhesenamun into Memphis? Didn’t the Royal Circle order them to be left in the City of the Aten?’
Sobeck and Djarka, not to mention Meryre, had made similar remonstrations, but on this matter I was adamant. I was wary of the lawlessness and my own darkest premonitions. I told Colonel Nebamun that the Royal Couple would be entrusted to him here in Memphis until the present crisis passed. Meryre sitting beside me clucked his tongue and shook his head, but lacked the authority to oppose me. Colonel Nebamun, resplendent in his gold collars and silver bees of bravery, did not object. I also promised that before I left Memphis I would issue formal letters accepting responsibility for what I had done. Nebamun sipped at his wine and nodded agreement. As for his questions about how the Royal Circle in Thebes had reacted to events in the Delta, I told him it was best if his commanding officer informed him personally when he arrived. Nebamun accepted the hint, quietly remarking that ever since he had heard the news, the city regiments had been put on a war footing and were ready to march.
‘And the usurper?’ I demanded. ‘What strength does he have?’
Nebamun squinted up at the sun. ‘We know he has taken the city of Avaris and is camped in the fields beyond. He has about a thousand chariots, two thousand footmen and a host of mercenaries.’
‘Mercenaries?’ I demanded.
‘Libyans and Kushites, some sea people, but mostly Hittites.’
‘Do you think the Hittite king is behind this pretender?’
‘I have told you what I can, my lord,’ Nebamun replied. ‘I have used every spy I could. I have questioned merchants, traders, pedlars, but the enemy camp is closely guarded. They have dug a ditch around all sides with a high palisade. Every entrance is guarded and protected. Men who are regarded as spies face summary execution. They say a veritable wall of impaled corpses circle the camp. You can smell their stench before you see them.’
‘What is the usurper waiting for?’ Meryre demanded.
‘More troops,’ Nebamun declared. ‘We also know he is sending raiding parties back across the Horus Road into Sinai. He is robbing the mines of precious gold and silver, then using the plunder to pay t
roops and hire more.’
‘Haven’t you thought of infiltrating the camp?’ I asked. ‘Surely there are men here who would serve as mercenaries, or pretend to?’
Colonel Nebamun’s close-set eyes studied me.
‘My lord Mahu, I was a mere stripling when I served under your father, Colonel Seostris, a cunning officer. I learnt my craft well. I handpicked six men and dressed them as mercenaries and sent them north. I told them to join the usurper’s army and send information back. I have neither seen nor heard from them since. According to a merchant, all recruits are closely interrogated. It’s not an impossible task to discover that someone has served alongside the imperial regiments then ask him what he is doing there. I suspect,’ he added bitterly, ‘my men are dead. I’ll send no more.’
He picked up a piece of lamb, richly coated in herb sauce, and chewed on it absent-mindedly.
‘These spices,’ he remarked, ‘were brought by a merchant who also traded with the enemy. He had no choice. He said the usurper was well advised by Hittite officers and strict discipline is maintained in his camp. Any looting is prohibited, martial law has been imposed, merchants and traders go freely about their business, and anyone who breaks these decrees faces summary execution.’
As he stretched out for the wine jug, his hand trembled; Nebamun recognised the danger and so did I. This mysterious usurper was not the chief of some band of robbers or desert marauders. He was leading a highly organised army and was eager to curry favour with the cities and towns of the Delta. He was demonstrating that he was not there to rob and pillage but to claim back what he regarded as his own. Nebamun glanced at me sheepishly.
‘Between here and the Delta, my lord, lie other garrisons. My loyalty is known. This city will be defended, the troops have a personal allegiance to General Horemheb.’
‘What are you saying, Colonel? That officers in other cities cannot be trusted?’