by Paul Doherty
We reached the end of the grasslands and came upon our real prey, a formidable herd of wild bulls, hefty and muscular, with pointed horns and mad, fiery eyes, a clever disguise for their speed and cunning. They always reminded me of Horemheb, the same bulk, ferocity, bravery, cunning, and above all, surprising speed. Our great hero, the noble general, was intent on a kill, eager to make his offering to his patron God, Horus of Henes. The dogs were released and streamed like a flight of arrows towards the herd. The huntsmen followed after. Immediately the bulls broke up, but one of their leaders, an old scarred beast, angry and agitated, turned, swinging its head, lowering its horn, snorting in fury and pawing the ground. The danger with wild bulls is you never know until the last moment whether they are going to flee or charge. This one charged, a sudden burst of speed, heading straight for our pack of dogs. I loosed shaft after shaft. The other chariots ringed the bull as, confused, it turned to face the new danger. Arrows whistled through the air. The bull went down, losing the power of its hindquarters as barb after barb scored its flanks and withers, cutting muscle and sinew. At last it lay quiet, flanks quivering, eyes glowing, blood pumping out of its nostrils and mouth. Horemheb climbed down from his chariot and stood astride its thick muscular neck. He raised his hands towards the sky, the knife in his right hand dazzling in the sun as the great general recited a hymn to Horus. We all joined in the chorus, then Horemheb sliced the animal’s throat and cut off a tuft of hair between the horns. He took us over to the fire a huntsman had quickly built and sprinkled the hairs, followed by a handful of incense. The scented smoke rose against the blue sky. Horemheb stood, eyes tightly closed, quietly communicating with his God.
‘Who,’ Maya hissed spitefully, ‘Horemheb truly believed guided his every action at the great victory in the Delta.’
Once the sacrifice was finished, the huntsmen closed in. They slit the belly, drained the blood and quartered and pickled the various joints. The air turned sour with the smell of tumbling intestines and gushing blood. The hunting party moved on, reaching the edge of the grassland, where the soil became sparse and the only water lay in stagnant pools ringed by coarse, dirty weeds. We moved cautiously through the thickets of brambles and robe-rending gorse. We were on the edge of the desert, where the night prowlers lurked. We surprised an old lion, a tawny beast with a jet-black mane. Disturbed and alarmed, it turned on our dogs, savaging two, till it was dispatched with arrows and a lance in the mouth by Horemheb. The sun rose higher in the heavens, the heat draining the strength of man, dog and horse.
We reached the Oasis of Sweet Grass and pitched our camp, unhitching the chariots and establishing horse lines. Cooking fires were built; food and wine baskets unloaded and brought out. The stinking quarry we’d killed was taken downwind and piled in carts, sprinkled with salt and covered with a leather awning. At last everything was ready. Horemheb, very much the soldier, insisted that we were not out of danger yet, and that even on a hunting trip we should act as if we were on the march. Huy and Maya raised their eyes heavenwards. On reflection, we were the fiercest beasts in the desert: the hunters, the hyaenas of the Royal Court. The real business of the day was about to begin. We washed and cleaned in the oasis pool, gratefully accepting the chilled wine offered by servants. Once they had withdrawn, we sat on our cushions and Lord Ay, tapping his long nails against his goblet, brought us to order with a stark question.
‘Is he still alive?’
All eyes turned to me.
‘You do have the prisoner Khufu?’ Ay cheekily remarked. ‘As well as the records of the Usurper? Indeed, my lord Mahu, we are surprised that you have not handed both over to the Royal Circle!’
‘We should not be surprised,’ I retorted. ‘You know, my Lord Ay, I was considering retiring from the Royal Circle. If that had been the case I would have paraded the truth before you and provided you with a copy of everything I had found.’
Ay smiled dreamily back at me. Huy and Maya lowered their heads. Rameses hid his smile behind his cup.
‘If you had resigned, Lord Mahu,’ Ay murmured, ‘we would all have been distraught. Your support and your strength, particularly in this crisis, are deeply appreciated. I know you will speak with true voice!’
‘How would you know what a true voice is?’ I jibed.
‘The truth,’ Ay demanded. ‘My lord Mahu, you are Chief of Police, Overseer of the House of Secrets.’
‘And you have brought your torturer with you,’ I declared. ‘The usurper and the other captives have been put to the question.’
‘Nothing but babbling,’ Rameses declared. ‘Nothing much at all. Vague rumours, fanciful stories.’
‘I believe he is alive.’ I cut across Rameses’ voice. ‘I think he fled from the City of the Aten.’ I narrowed my eyes, peering at the heat haze across the desert. ‘He was given help and sheltered in southern Canaan. I think we know as much as Meryre did: the rest he concocted to help the Hittites and Prince Aziru.’
‘Then Colonel Nebamun is wrong?’ Horemheb asked.
‘No, I believe he spoke the truth. I trust the Colonel implicitly. One of the few men I do.’
Horemheb allowed himself a smile.
‘Akenhaten may be living in south Canaan, but you have seen the roads, the boats and barges on the river. Sooner or later all the world comes to Egypt. Akenhaten may have returned one last time, perhaps for a glimpse of his son, as well as to see justice done. What we have here is, perhaps, something none of us are acquainted with. On this matter we must not put our trust in Pharaoh,’ I quoted the proverb, ‘or place our confidence in the war chariots of Egypt.’
‘What do you mean?’ Rameses demanded.
‘We deal in power,’ I replied. ‘We are the lords, the masters; my lord Horemheb raises his hands and chariot squadrons, whole hosts of men, march to his command. I send out a writ to my subordinates, the mayors of Eastern and Western Thebes,’ I added, ‘and unless my lord Ay interferes, my orders will be carried out. But this is not about power. Akenhaten drank deep of power and it made him sick. In the City of the Aten he vomited, he purged himself. Now he wants to be at peace. It is about ideals, about conversion.’
‘So what do we do?’ Rameses asked.
‘For the glory of Egypt,’ Horemheb retorted, ‘kill him.’
‘I agree.’ Ay spoke up. ‘For the sake of Egypt, for the protection of his son, in order that we can establish true Ma’at, harmony throughout the kingdom of the Two Lands, we must kill him.’
‘What happens if there is no need?’ I declared. ‘What happens if Akenhaten does not pose a problem to us or to Egypt? Why not let the problem wither on the branch? The present troubles are not caused by him, but by the usurper.’
‘He could be used by others,’ Horemheb declared.
‘I don’t think he’d allow that.’
‘Why did he take his treasure?’ Maya asked. ‘If he had found true peace and harmony, what does he need his treasure for?’
‘He doesn’t,’ I smiled, ‘not for himself, but it can buy silence, the co-operation and connivance of others.’
‘And this correspondence?’ Huy asked. ‘The documents found in the usurper’s tent?’
I smiled at Ay. ‘Nothing more than sand in the wind, Lord Huy.’
‘And Khufu?’
‘A mere babbler.’
Horemheb straightened up. Ay gestured for silence as servants carried platters of woven reed heaped high with meat and vegetables, laying out napkins and refilling goblets.
‘Don’t worry.’ Ay toasted me with his cup. ‘I have had General Nakhtimin,’ he gestured to where his sinister brother stood with the other officers, watching intently what was happening, ‘make sure that our food is, how can I put it, free of any potions or powders.’
‘And I put my trust in Colonel Nebamun,’ Rameses simpered. ‘I asked him to keep an eye on everything. Well,’ he smiled, ‘we shall eat and drink safely.’
I gazed around. The hyaena pack was still unified, but the tension
s were there: Horemheb and Rameses confronting Ay, with Huy, Maya, Pentju and myself in between.
‘Has Meryre been found?’ Rameses asked, his mouth full of food. ‘Surely a fat priest and his followers, not to mention Lord Tutu and the group from Buhen, would be clear targets in the desert? I mean, from what I gather, they not only fled but took their wives, servants and children with them.’
‘One thing at a time,’ Ay countered. ‘A search will be made. If they have become lost in the desert, then that’s one problem solved in the best possible way. On our return to Thebes we will redouble our efforts, carry out a proper investigation, release the hunters.’
‘He should be captured.’ Horemheb slurped from his cup. ‘Meryre and the rest should be put to the question.’
‘My lord Pentju,’ Ay toasted the physician with his cup, ‘you remain silent. You have become nothing but a watcher of our activities. Is it true,’ Ay glanced quickly at me, ‘that Lord Meryre approached you? Those we tortured say the High Priest was most eager for you to join his company.’
‘Meryre can ask the stars to fall,’ Pentju quipped, ‘but that doesn’t mean they will. As for my silence, Lord Ay, that is my own business. I was appointed by Pharaoh Akenhaten to this Royal Circle. I was chosen to guard his infant son. He is still my concern.’
‘He’s our concern,’ Ay soothed. ‘I propose that if Generals Horemheb and Rameses stay in Memphis to keep an eye on affairs in the north, the Prince and my granddaughter should return to the Malkata Palace in Thebes.’
‘No.’ Horemheb put his platter down.
All the bonhomie of our meal and the hunt disappeared.
‘My lord General,’ Ay whispered. ‘Is there a problem with what I proposed?’
‘Yes.’ Rameses answered for him. ‘Why can’t the Prince stay in Memphis with his official protector, Lord Mahu, and, perhaps, Lord Pentju?’
‘He is my grandson.’ Ay’s face assumed that stubborn, pugnacious look. ‘He is heir to the throne. He is to be crowned. Thebes is Pharaoh’s city.’
‘Memphis it should be,’ Horemheb retorted.
I gazed across at Huy; he stared blankly back. Maya was the same. This was the point of power. Whoever controlled the Prince would eventually control Egypt. I recalled Khufu’s story; the City of the Aten with its honeycomb of tombs.
‘My lords,’ I intervened, ‘may I propose a solution? A compromise? The city of Memphis is in the north; Thebes is in the south. In between lies the City of the Aten, in many ways still a thriving community. What I propose is that I, the Lord Pentju and his Highness the Prince, together with the Princess Ankhesenamun, return to the City of the Aten. No. No!’ I raised my hand to still the objections. ‘The city is well guarded by my mercenaries. They have taken an oath of personal loyalty to myself as well as to the Prince. It can also be easily guarded: it is built on a cove surrounded virtually on three sides by cliffs and on the fourth by the Nile. Perhaps it will be best if the land routes, the clifftops, were patrolled by Colonel Nebamun’s chariot squadrons, the river by soldiers and marines sent north under General Nakhtimin, whilst the city itself can be policed by my mercenaries. It will be good for the Prince to be away from Thebes whilst matters are harmonised and the restoration of the old ways continues apace. Once this has been done, the Prince can be returned to Thebes, where he will be crowned in the Temple of the Amun-Ra, and, of course, like his predecessors, process annually between Thebes and Memphis displaying his crown and power.’
Rameses made to object, but Horemheb tapped him on the shoulder. Ay clicked his tongue, a favourite gesture whenever he was thinking deeply.
‘Of course,’ I added, ‘the City of the Aten will be an ideal place for the Royal Circle to meet every so often to discuss matters. All members of the Royal Circle will have equal access to the Prince. No major decision will be made without us all agreeing.’
‘I would accept that,’ Horemheb snapped.
Huy and Maya immediately voiced their support.
‘There is another problem.’ I waited for a servant to bring a fresh wine jug. ‘Outside the City of the Aten lie the Royal Tombs. Some of the dead were casualties of the plague. They include members of the Royal Family, Lord Ay, your own daughter, Queen Nefertiti, your sister, Great Queen Tiye, the Princess Ankhesenamun’s sister and others of the Royal Court.’ I was pleased to see everyone nodding. ‘It is obvious,’ I continued, ‘that the City of the Aten will one day die, return to the desert. However, we have a duty to the Gods, as well as the dead, to ensure that these graves are not violated, their treasures plundered.’
‘What do you propose?’ Ay demanded.
‘That every coffin and sarcophagus be removed by river to new tombs in the Valley of the Nobles or the Valley of the Kings, and that this be done sooner rather than later.’
‘That will be major work,’ Maya remarked, ‘requiring much silver. Caves have to be excavated. It should be done secretly,’ he added. ‘If the grave robbers around the City of the Dead learn of what can only be termed a rash of royal burials taking place in the Valley of the Kings, their curiosity, not to mention their greed, would be roused. These tombs,’ he declared solemnly, ‘should be excavated and prepared in secret, the coffins brought by night and sealed away.’
‘And how should we do that?’ Rameses asked.
‘Use General Horemheb’s great victory.’ Ay joined his hands together. ‘We have a horde of prisoners of war. They can dig and they can excavate. They can be given as much food and water as they need. Afterwards, what the eye has seen, the ear heard and the mouth spoken can remain a secret.’
‘You will massacre the slaves?’ I asked.
‘They will be taken out to the Red Lands,’ Ay agreed, ‘once their task is finished.’
‘And who will be responsible for emptying the tombs in the City of the Aten?’ Pentju demanded.
‘Why, my lord Mahu!’ Ay smiled. ‘Assisted and helped by the Chief Court Physician, Lord Pentju. We will send barges and escorts north when you are ready. It is an excellent proposal.’ He plucked up a date and popped it into his mouth. ‘At the same time, we’ll begin stripping the palaces in the City of the Aten of all their furniture, gold and silver.’ He licked his fingers. ‘I am so glad we are reaching agreement on so many things.’
‘Akenhaten!’ Horemheb’s voice cut like a lash. ‘We should send troops into Canaan.’
‘We are going to send an army into Kush,’ Maya countered. ‘The treasury is exhausted. My lord Horemheb, to invade Canaan we would need an army prepared and provisioned for at least a six-month campaign. The House of Silver cannot afford it. Until the present crisis passes we need every soldier this side of the Horus Road.’
A murmur of agreement greeted his words.
‘We could send assassins.’ Rameses glared at me. ‘My lord Mahu?’
‘Nonsense,’ I countered. ‘It was dangerous enough in the Delta. It will be like looking for a pearl hidden in the sand. That will have to wait. Now, other matters …’
So there, in the Oasis of Sweet Grass, the power of Egypt was settled, the lines drawn, the agenda set. Akenhaten would have to wait. The old ways needed to be published and proclamations posted about what was to happen. It was agreed that stelae would be set up in every major city of Egypt proclaiming that the crisis was over and Egypt once again returning to its former glory. So we passed to other matters: the listing of enemies, of those to be arrested, fined or exiled. The number of executions would be kept to a minimum. Each of us argued for friends. Maya, in particular, demanded a general amnesty and pardon to be issued to Sobeck, that he should be restored to royal favour and given some high-ranking post in the city of Thebes. This was agreed. We moved on to the granaries, the prospect of a good harvest, the need for fresh taxation, the problem of the rebels in Kush. We argued and debated, but beneath the surface, the truth emerged. There were to be three sources of power in Egypt: the first, Horemheb and Rameses and the northern garrisons based at Memphis; the second in Th
ebes under the thumb of Lord Ay, General Nakhtimin and others of the Akhmin gang; whilst the third would be the Prince and the Keepers of the City of the Aten. For the time being that was the way things would be. Nevertheless, as we finished and prepared to return to Memphis, I wondered what would happen if Tutankhamun died, which of these powerful factions would gain ascendancy?
The sun had set, the desert wind turning chilly as I left the rest of the Royal Circle and returned with Colonel Nebamun to his house on the outskirts of Thebes. A runner, drenched in sweat, greeted us. He threw himself before Nebamun’s chariot, babbling out his message. The Colonel, still slightly drunk from the previous evening as well as the deep cups he had drunk at the Oasis of Sweet Grass, staggered down from his chariot, pulling the man to his feet. He made him repeat the message, whilst I stood in my chariot next to Pentju.
‘The prisoner Khufu, late this afternoon, they had to force his door. He’s hanged himself.’
We hastened back to Nebamun’s house. All was confusion and chaos. My mercenaries, swords drawn, were already gathered in the courtyard. Djarka, locking the young Prince in his room, came to greet me and took me up to Khufu’s quarters. The door lay resting against the splintered lintel and inside, swinging on a rope from a beam, a stool lying on its side beneath, hung the body of Khufu. The thick rope was tied tightly about his neck, his face had turned purple, his eyes were bulging, his swollen tongue caught between his lips. He’d lost control of his bladder in his death throes. A tragic, pathetic corpse swaying slightly on the creaking rope.