The King's Man (23 page)

When he had finished his prayers, he closed the shrine and lay on his couch with his hands behind his head. He was tired but did not want to sleep. The memories of his life with Anhur filled him, vivid and satisfying, slowly blunting his grief and bringing him a morsel of peace. He was still awake when Tetiankh knocked on the door and entered with a tray of fresh fruits and goat cheese, which he set beside Huy’s hip. “The Regent has summoned you, Master,” he said. “There is time for you to eat and for me to braid your hair and apply your face paint. Their Majesties will be dining with the ambassador from Mitanni for some hours yet. It is a meal they share with him regularly.” Huy sat up and, finding himself hungry, began to eat.

He and Paneb were admitted to the King’s quarters several hours after sunset. The corridors were choked with revellers and their servants coming and going, their jewels glinting in the torchlight, their carefully kohled eyes flicking to Huy and away again before they accorded him a bow that released clouds of perfume from their filmy linens and starched white kilts. Huy acknowledged their reverences while Perti called his advance and the stream of humanity parted. “They are celebrating a small rise in the level of the river,” Paneb explained in answer to Huy’s query. “Isis has begun to cry, and the priests have proclaimed the rising of the Sopdet star at last.”

So Ma’at is content with her realm
, Huy said to himself as Perti slowed before the King’s huge double doors.
The equilibrium between cosmic and earthly principles is being maintained
.

Nubti ushered the two men inside with a smile and a swift obeisance, his misshapen left shoulder blade no more than a hint of distortion until he turned to precede Huy into the long, lamplit room. The King was sitting sprawled in a chair, one braceleted arm slunk over its back and his legs crossed. Beneath the paint on his face Huy thought he looked tired.
He has a great deal to contend with and he’s only just turned thirteen
, Huy told himself as he walked forward and knelt to prostrate himself. Mutemwia, looking as ethereal as a cloud in floating white linen, rose from her own chair. Tiny silver vultures hung from the circlet around her brow and from her earlobes. A wide plate of silver studded with deep blue lapis flowers covered her breasts, and pellets of lapis dotted her sandals. A large ankh hung from the centre of her thin, silver-linked belt.

“Rise, Uncle Huy,” Amunhotep said. “I’ve missed you and worried about you and prayed to Amun for your safety among the barbarians in Rethennu and beyond.”

“Your Majesty is kind.” Huy rose to his feet. “I missed you also. You would have found much to intrigue you in the wilds beyond your eastern border.”

“No doubt.” Huy, invited by the Regent’s gesture to step closer, now saw that the young man looked distressed rather than tired. Amunhotep straightened and uncrossed his legs. His kohled eyes under the rim of the blue and white striped linen helmet were puffy. “You know about Anhur?”

“Yes. There was a message from Thothhotep waiting for me when I returned.” He turned to Mutemwia. “Majesty, there is just enough time for me to travel to Nekheb and attend Anhur’s funeral. He was so much more than my friend. Please give me permission to go.”

“I’ll come with you,” Amunhotep said loudly. “I have wept for him a great deal since the news came to me. The Mitanni ambassador dared to ask me if I was ill.” He flung a challenging glare at his mother. “There’s no use asking the Queen if we may make the journey. She has already refused my request to do so.”

“Sit down, Huy.” The voice belonged to Mutemwia. Her doll-like face was set, the hennaed lips pursed, the vulture-spangled forehead furrowed. Huy did as he was told, taking the proffered seat opposite Amunhotep. “I need not explain myself to you,” she continued. “Nor to you, my son. Not for another three years. If you cannot see the wisdom in my decisions, you obviously still need the guidance of your teachers.” Stepping quickly to Huy, she placed her hands on either side of his neck. Her palms were hot. It was a shockingly intimate action that took Huy by surprise so that his own hands came up to grasp her wrists. Her delicately chiselled features were so close to his that he could smell spiced wine on her breath. “You are indispensible to me,” she said quietly. “Allowing you to travel with Ptahmose was necessary, but while you were gone my mind was filled with every disaster that might have befallen you. I cannot permit another long voyage unless it is in the urgent service of this country. You surely know that I was fond of Anhur also.” She moved back, and Huy repressed the urge to touch his neck where he could still feel the pressure of her rings.

“She told me much the same thing,” Amunhotep said irritably. “Here, have some nedjem wine and we can at least drink to Anhur’s Beautification.” Nubti came forward swiftly at his words, but Amunhotep was already filling a silver cup. He pushed it across the table at Huy, who raised it, mirroring the King’s action, and took a mouthful. It was indeed nedjem, sweetened, a fig wine far too honeyed for Huy’s taste, although the blend of spices in it was welcome. He replaced it carefully on the slippery surface of the ivory-inlaid table.

“Majesty, such vain imaginings are unlike you,” he said to Mutemwia. “I am under the sunshade of Atum; and Anubis, though he often chastises me during the Seeings, makes sure that I come to no harm. Atum has imbued me with heka to ward off the blows of fate.”
It’s true, isn’t it? My destiny to advise these royal beings has been clear to me since Mutemwia put little Amunhotep into my care every year, and as I age I am able to look back and see the god’s gift of magic that has averted every danger in my life. I have not said any of this aloud before
. “The Kings of Egypt are also blessed with Atum’s heka. Weret Hekau Great of Magic does not leave their side unless they commit some terrible blasphemy against Ma’at. Where are your fears coming from? Your dreams?”

He was desperate to change her mind. He wanted to be with Thothhotep in her little house beside the river, to walk behind Anhur’s coffin as he was carried to the hollowed-out cave Huy’s gold had prepared for his beloved captain’s resting place, to make the offerings of food, wine, and oil. He wanted to hold Thothhotep’s skinny, wiry body against his own, to see her reach up to tuck the one unruly strand of her short hair behind her ear in the unconscious gesture he had loved.
I’m homesick for the past
, he realized suddenly.
Not just missing the peace and orderliness of the estate, but genuinely ill with desire for it. Such disorder in my ka is an invitation to attacks from the demon Khatyu in spite of Atum’s protection
.

Mutemwia was shaking her head. The silver vulture likenesses of Mut tinkled dully against one another. “No. But surely you see that the King must stay here and he must be seen to have the god’s protection your presence provides. Besides, I have work for you. Have you become proficient in Akkadian yet? Did your scribe bring me a copy of your report?”

The subject of a journey to Nekheb was closed. The King audibly blew out his lips and sank his nose into his wine. Huy grimly forced down a spurt of pure anger. Was she exercising her power frivolously or was there a legitimate reason for keeping both the King and him under her scrutiny? Huy turned his mind to the report with difficulty. Mutemwia’s scribe glided out of the shadows at her words and settled beside her feet. He opened his palette, and in a moment the sound of burnisher against papyrus brought Huy entirely to himself.

“I have become reasonably proficient in reading and writing Akkadian, and Minister May’s scribe seems content with my atrocious accent,” he replied stiffly. “Paneb has brought my report for your appraisal, but I would like to summarize it. I have recommendations to make.”

“Good.” She sat, drawing the folds of her sheath across her invisible knees. The ankh on its silver chain slid sideways to swing gently between her thigh and the floor. The scribe dipped his brush in his black paint and waited. Paneb also waited, not for the report but to record any conversation that would surround it.

“The Scribe of Recruits is honest and capable in his responsibilities to the army and navy,” Huy began. “The officers clearly respect him and he is able to speak the language of the barracks with the common soldiers. However, in bringing a fresh eye to the fortification of the northern Delta, and in visiting the garrisons along the Horus Road, I noted some concerns that did not necessarily escape the Scribe’s attention but—”

Amunhotep interrupted him. The King had emptied his wine cup and was now leaning back in his chair with arms folded. “You don’t need to defend the ability of my Scribe of Recruits to do his job efficiently, Uncle. Why do you think my Mother the Regent promoted him? If you are going to hedge your assessment of the state of my northern borders with an unwarranted concern for your nephew, I’m not going to be able to trust what you say. Where does your first obedience lie? Do you think that there is a conflict between loyalty to Egypt and loyalty to family?”

Huy looked at him, startled.
He’s growing up at last. One day soon he will equal his mother’s shrewdness
. Huy gave up any attempt at diplomacy. “Amunhotep-Huy expressed a fear to me that you may be planning to rob him of his rank. Because you had ordered him not to discuss deployments or anything else connected to Egypt’s military forces, he assumed that you were about to give me his position.”

“The arrogant idiot. If I choose to demote him, I will do so. Am I not both Horus-in-the-Nest as I wait for my sixteenth Naming Day and the Incarnation of blessed Amun? And who is he?” He uncrossed his arms and held out both hennaed palms to face Huy. “Enough! My Mother the Regent refuses to convey preferment on anyone, noble or commoner, who is not able to perform the tasks of the office to which they aspire. The only exceptions have been the members of your family, Uncle Huy, and even then, although their promotions were commanded in order to induce you to leave Hut-herib, they have been given the titles and tasks equal to their talents. That includes your nephew, rough-spoken though he is.” He refolded his brown arms.

“My son is entirely correct,” Mutemwia said. “If we decide to send Amunhotep-Huy away, then we will. Please proceed.”

“I apologize,” Huy offered. “Very well. My first area of concern is the staffing of the garrisons along the Horus Road into Rethennu. Most of the soldiers stationed in them are mercenaries. During rotations they are free to go home to Rethennu, Tjehenu west of the Delta—there are even a few whose families live in Zahi, beyond Rethennu. I’ve watched them with the many foreign herdsmen returning home along the Road. There is an acquaintance between them. If they belong to the same tribe, there is amity. Unfortunately, it was the wrong time of the year to observe the relationship between them as the herds are driven into the Delta, but I’m willing to wager that whole families slip past the garrisons without being added to the tally. Judging by my comparison of the lists compiled during the spring months of Peret and the hundreds of foreigners I saw drifting away from northern Egypt, the inventory is scanty at best. The garrison officers cannot oversee their portions of the Road all the time. Your Majesty might be advised to think about the history lesson that dealt with the occupation of Egypt by the ancestors of these same tribesmen. Take native soldiers from our five military divisions and rotate them through the garrisons. The guarding of the Horus Road is our only protection against enemies from the east. No desert gives them pause as it does in the west. Nor is there a Great Green as there is to the north. The Horus Road is necessary, but it is a weak link in our defences.”

He paused and drank from the water Nubti had quietly placed by his hand. Mutemwia’s scribe put down his brush, flexed his fingers, and selected a new one. Neither the King nor the Regent spoke.

“I learned that Your Majesty already supplies soldiers to both the city of Byblos and the Amurru to strengthen our northeastern flank,” Huy went on. “I suggest that you consider opening diplomatic negotiations with the chieftains of not only Zahi but also the Shinar in northern Zahi, and the Katna, Niy, Senzar, Kinanat, and Nukhashshi. All of them are small tribes living within the Bend of Naharin, the region between the two great northern rivers. All of them could be either conquered or suborned by Mitanni. Egypt enjoys friendly relations with Mitanni. Its King imagines himself equal in every way to you, Amunhotep. Egypt and Mitanni have trade agreements with each other. Mitanni is now a kingdom to be reckoned with. Two Osiris-Kings conquered it and exacted tribute from it, but the tribute has become nothing more than a traffic of goods between our two realms. If Mitanni chooses to expand, it will engulf those little tribes. Better to prepare for such an eventuality. Send their petty chieftains gifts—gold, papyrus, linen. Invite them here so that they may see Egypt’s power for themselves. Mitanni must not grow.” Huy’s voice had become a croak and his nerves were screaming for opium.

“Is that all, Huy?” Mutemwia asked as Huy drained the water jug and Nubti whisked it away to be refilled.

Huy shook his head. “One more thing to try your patience. You doubtless know that after Ptahmose and my nephew left for the southern sepats, I toured the garrisons and naval stations along the northern shores of the Delta. I talked to many captains, including Naval Troop Commander Nebenkempt and Hatmesha, who was your father’s Standard Bearer on his ship
Mery Amun
and who commands two hundred and fifty marines. He is an extremely talented naval officer and deserves to be promoted. It was pointed out to me that shipments of copper from Alashia are often either late or do not arrive at all because of the pirates infesting the Great Green between Alashia and the coast that reaches from northern Zahi to our own beloved Delta. Nebenkempt and Hatmesha both agreed that Alashia needs Egypt’s help. So far the pirates have not dared to attack our coastal settlements, but they grow in strength and daring. I suggest permitting both nobles to begin serious battle training for the sailors and marines under their authority, and a letter to the ruler of Alashia from you, Majesty, assuring him of Egypt’s assistance. We need his copper. That is all.” The jug of water had reappeared. Huy drank again, then sat slumped in his chair. The day had been long and fraught with emotion. All he wanted to do was to take his poppy and go to sleep.