The King's Man (15 page)

The god’s rebuke regarding Huy’s neglect of his work on the Book of Thoth struck home, but with mild despair Huy acknowledged that without further direction he was at a standstill. He knew the Book by heart, every word, every profound concept. He had spent years puzzling over it. He had become convinced that it was not complete, that somewhere lay the ending that would reveal its ultimate meaning, but he had no idea where to look for it. Atum had breathed life into his lifeless corpse and had given him the gift of Scrying in exchange for his agreement to read and understand the Book Atum had dictated to his scribe, the mighty ibis god Thoth, at the dawn of creation. The Book was contained on forty-two scrolls, half of which lay in Ra’s temple at Iunu and half in Thoth’s temple at Khmun. Huy had read them all. So had Imhotep, architect, Seer, healer, still worshipped as a god himself although he had been beautified uncounted hentis ago. Huy had begun to believe that Imhotep had deciphered the Book, had written the commentary with each scroll that Huy had found so useful, and had hidden the very last of the Book for some reason, doubtless wise, of his own. So much had happened that had driven Huy’s duty to the Book into the far corners of his mind. Anubis had warned him to bring it forward,
but how
, Huy thought in despair,
am I supposed to take up my search again when the King may quite rightly command every moment of my time?

A reply to his letter arrived from Methen. Huy, inspecting the seal into which Khenti-kheti’s benign likeness had been pressed, saw with relief that it had not been broken. Cracking it, he unrolled the papyrus and recognized the priest’s own writing. Methen had answered the account of Huy’s visions in his own hand. “Atum has shown you a terrible thing,” Methen wrote.

Anubis warns you that you must on no account allow what you Saw to come to pass. At present it makes no sense. It’s a mirage that appears to have no foundation, but we both remember the Osiris-King Amunhotep the Second and his son Thothmes, our last Pharaoh, and how they fabricated Thothmes’ dream of the great sphinx he had dug out of the sand before Osiris Khufu’s resting place in order to disinherit the rightful heir, our own King’s blood-uncle newly returned from exile. Both of them gave Amun no respect. Their adoration went to the heat of Ra and more specifically to the light of the Aten-disc. May Amun grant you wisdom in the coming years, dear friend! Our young King loves you. So does his illustrious Mother. Keep a reverence for Egypt’s mightiest deity alive in them. I miss you and pray daily for your health and safety. By my own hand, Methen, Priest to Khenti-kheti of Hut-herib, this twenty-first day of Pharmuthi, Year One of the King.

Huy handed the scroll to Amunmose. “Burn it,” he ordered, “and have my litter-bearers rounded up. It’s time I spent a day with Heby and Iupia.”

Amunmose scuttled away and Huy went to his bedchamber for clean linen. The room no longer smelled of jasmine. Other blooms filled the gardens with their scents and the surface of the pools rocked gently under a weight of fragrant water lilies and delicate pink lotuses. As Huy opened his door, a tiny green lizard darted across the ceiling where Nut stretched out her star-spangled body, and disappeared through one of the clerestory windows high up in the wall. Huy had seen it before, diligently eating flies above his couch. “We should name that creature,” he said to Tetiankh, who was opening one of Huy’s tiring chests. “He does good work and I rather like him.” Tetiankh raised his eyebrows. He made no reply.

Huy was summoned to the King’s private quarters before the end of Pharmuthi. Escorted as usual by Perti and a couple of soldiers, he presented himself before the massive cedar doors to be warmly greeted by Chief Steward Nubti and ushered inside. Amunhotep was pacing to and fro before his closed Amun shrine, his arms folded across the gold lying on his chest, his feet bare. When he saw Huy, he hurried to embrace him. “Uncle Huy! It’s been weeks since we met! I thought that since we are all in mourning for Yey I might as well fill the time with some dictation. You brought your palette?”

Huy had in fact snatched it up as an afterthought on his way out; it was as well to be prepared. Enveloped in the aroma of rosemary, Amunhotep’s favourite perfume, he felt a rush of renewed affection for this young man who had been a part of his life for so long.

“I have, Majesty.” He smiled, stepping away and bowing. “I’ve missed you also. Are you well?”

Amunhotep made a face. “My health is excellent as always, and although I loved Yey very much, I’m getting bored. I can’t take my chariot out or even feast with my friends. I’ve done my duty and visited Yuya and Thuyu. I even miss my studies!” He grinned and waved at the table laden with sweetmeats and wine. “Let’s nibble on shat cakes and share the news. Have you any?”

Yes I do, and I wish I could tell you about it
, Huy thought as he took the chair Amunhotep had indicated. He shook his head. “I have enlarged my staff, and before the Master of Chariotry died I entertained my family. Nothing more.”

Amunhotep flung himself into the chair opposite Huy. At once Nubti clicked his fingers and a servant glided up to fill the waiting goblets. The King drank with relish, dabbing his hennaed mouth on the piece of spotless linen offered to him.

“You seem carefree in spite of your enforced aimlessness, Majesty,” Huy ventured. “It does me good to see you this way. It reminds me of so many happy days spent with you and Anhur on my estate, when you were a little boy.”

“I miss that time, Uncle.” Amunhotep leaned forward, pushing the pastries to and fro. “Being the King sometimes makes me lonely, in spite of the Queen my Mother’s companionship. Here.” He handed Huy a tart. “This one has almonds on it. A rare treat.”

Obediently, Huy took it. The taste of the precious nuts reminded him of his first meal at the school in Ra’s temple at Iunu. Those days came flooding back, together with a sudden and brilliant vision of the sacred Ished Tree beneath whose ancient branches he had sat to read the Book of Thoth. Of course the King had no inkling of the unwanted direction Huy’s mind was leading him, but it was as though Atum himself was putting the words in Amunhotep’s mouth when the King said, “Ra’s High Priest still cultivates the almond tree one of his predecessors planted in the temple garden. Apparently it’s very temperamental and hard to coax into producing these delectable things, but I receive a small sackful every Mesore, at the end of the harvest season.” He was busy picking the nuts from every pastry and audibly crunching them. “There are more if you want them, Uncle,” he added apologetically. “Would you like beer?”

Huy declined, and went on watching the boy. “I’ve seen nothing of the Prince since he returned,” he said. “How is he?”

“We are becoming friends, but the Queen my Mother’s spies still bring her regular reports.” Amunhotep swallowed a mouthful of wine and sat back. At his gesture a servant refilled his cup. “She doesn’t think that you’ll have to See for him. His actions are open and his conversation is inoffensive. It seems as though he spoke the truth when he told us that all he wanted to do was retire to his estates and live in peace. However, the Queen my Mother will keep him in the palace for a while longer. Now,” he said cheerfully, “I am actually going to dictate, Uncle Huy. I did what you told me to do. I listened to Treasurer Nakht-sobek. I now know how rich I am. So take your place and write my plans for the gods and my country.”

Hiding his astonishment, Huy left his chair, sank cross-legged onto the floor beside the King’s calf, and opened his palette. It was the same one that his uncle Ker and aunt Heruben had given him for his fifth birthday, a cedar rectangle with his name etched in silver on a lid that slid open to reveal grooves for his brushes, compartments for black and red ink powders, two pots to mix them in, and a simple burnisher. Huy and his uncle had parted company a long time ago, but for a moment he was back in his father Hapu’s garden, in the sunshine, his admiring family around him as he examined the gift with awe.
Leave me alone, Great Atum
, he prayed silently, bitterly.
Why do you suffocate me with the past? Did I not take those last visions enough to heart?
A servant’s hand appeared, holding a dish of water. He took it with thanks, poured a little in the pots, and began to mix his inks. He had replaced his brushes many times, and the scrolls of papyrus hung in a leather pouch from his belt. Taking one and unrolling it, he burnished it, murmuring the scribes’ prayer to their patron, Thoth, as he did so. On impulse he shook the remaining water onto the mat beside him in honour of Imhotep.

The King was tapping his bare foot by Huy’s knee. “Are you ready?” he asked crisply.

Huy looked up and nodded.

“Then begin. ‘These are the tasks that I Amunhotep, Mighty Bull, the One Who Causes All to Be, have set myself for the beautifying of Egypt and the gods. My monuments shall be more splendid than those of any King before me, and my works shall amaze and confound those who will come after. First it is necessary to open the calcite mine at Berseh on the east bank of the river opposite the city of Khmun, and to repair the ruined mine at Tura south of Iunu so that limestone may again be quarried to complete the work my father began and to provide material for my own building projects.’” He paused. Huy dipped his brush in the ink and waited. “Nakht-sobek was my father’s Master of Works as well as being responsible for the Treasury,” Amunhotep mused.

Huy, as a good scribe, realized that the young man was simply thinking aloud.

“I need someone new, someone whose attention will not be divided. My father did not have much time for beautifying in Egypt before he died.” Was that a hint of scorn underlying the words? Huy wondered. Had Mutemwia, who disliked and distrusted her husband, sown a seed of disdain in her son for his royal father Osiris Thothmes the Fourth? “Continue,” Amunhotep ordered, and Huy bent over his labour. “‘The noble Men, our Chief Sculptor, will make a capable Master of Works. He can see to the mines at once.’ I’ll consult the Queen my Mother, but I believe that Men will be happy working under Chief Architect Kha and perhaps his sons Hori and Suti. You know them, Uncle Huy?”

“I have met the noble Kha and liked him, Majesty. I have yet to become acquainted with his sons.”

Amunhotep laughed. “You will certainly be amused by them. The whole family is expert at designing. You must meet them as soon as possible. They’re most interesting as well as talented. In fact I think I’ll put them to work at Weset. They’ve been idle since they finished the small project at Aabtu.” He flung out his arms. “I shall show my love and devotion for Amun to the whole world! Ipet-isut will become the greatest testament to a King’s worship the world has ever seen! Uncle, I am on fire with plans, with visions of what I want to see rise on that holy site! I am indebted to you and to my tutors, who deluged me with boring lectures on masonry and architectural design and forced me to learn! Without you I would have no dreams of proper homage to offer to my Divine Father.” He rose to his feet and began to pace once more, and Huy realized that he had been bursting with this enthusiasm the whole time.
Men—new Master of Works. Kha—Chief Architect, Weset
, he wrote.
Sons Hori and Suti—Ipet-isut?

“New gardens for the temple filled with flowers, servants—monuments of gold, lapis, malachite—Amun shall have everything his heart may desire. There is one more thing to be noted down.” Amunhotep resumed his seat. “Uncle Huy, did you know that a very ancient Osiris-one, Senwosret Glorified, caused to be built a palace-temple at Weset named Senwosret Is Observing the Primeval Hill? And even before that, a small temple already existed at Ipet-isut? But of course you did. The whole of Weset, city, temple, and surrounding land, has been holy since the beginning, when Atum became ‘Hill’ and birthed the world. I intend to move us all to Weset, and the Queen my Mother agrees that it is our joyful duty. What do you think?”

Shocked and yet filled with an enormous relief, Huy glanced up at the boy’s eager face.
All those months under my care. All Mutemwia’s anxious determination to counteract any influence his father’s heresy might have on his childish mind. It has come to this magnificent fruition: a King who will wield supreme authority in Egypt in a very few years and who already chooses to follow the way of Ma’at and the elevation of the god who has always been Egypt’s champion and protector
.

“I think that your love for Amun will make you the greatest Pharaoh this blessed country has ever seen,” he said. Quickly, he wrote
Move to Weset and new palace. Renovation of existing building?
“Have you decided on an architect for its design?”

“So far I only trust Kha and his family, but I’ll hire anyone he recommends to work under him. No more dictation, Uncle Huy. I can tell that you’re very pleased with my surprises. I like to please you, you know,” he added earnestly. “I love you. I can dismiss you now. Acquaint those I have chosen with my decision. Oh, and please find Nehemawi and send him to me. The Queen my Mother and I want to grant his request and let him retire. Send me Merimose as well. He’ll take Nehemawi’s position as Viceroy of Kush and Wawat and Overseer of the Gold Lands of Amun.”

He was still smiling a trifle smugly, a boy pleased with his surprises, as Huy bowed himself out, palette under his arm, and Nubti closed the doors. Perti and the soldiers came to attention.

“Captain, do you know where I might find the Viceroy Nehemawi and the noble Merimose?” Huy asked as they began to walk. “I haven’t yet met these men.”

“Of course, Master, and while you were busy with His Majesty a message came for you from his Mother the Queen. She requests your company this evening in her quarters. Shall I send Sarenput with your reply?”

“Sarenput? Who’s he?”

“Your new herald under Chief Herald Ba-en-Ra, who hired him yesterday. Ba-en-Ra will doubtless approach you regarding the matter as soon as possible.”

“Doubtless.” Huy sighed, absently noting the waves of bowed heads in the passages as he went by. He had no appetite for the impending noon meal. He knew that he would need a dose of opium and an hour on his couch once he had met these two strangers and delivered the King’s demands.