The King's Man (30 page)

Away to Huy’s left, a donkey hitched to a cart laden with huge water barrels twitched its long grey ears and stared patiently ahead. Obviously, even though the fifteenth of every month was a public holiday, it was necessary for the gardeners to continue tending the vast royal acres. Shemu would grow hotter. The river’s flow would grow sullen, its height reduced, and the farmers’ fields would become dusty expanses spidered with deep, dry cracks. But the many tributaries of Ta-Mehu, the Delta, would enable the peasants to keep the land moist, the orchard trees healthy, the grazing for the King’s herds lush and green.
What will Shemu be like at Weset, far to the south?
Huy wondered, leaning back on one elbow and watching birds alight close to the gardeners in the hope of catching a worm.
So relentlessly hot that no one at all can work?

He saw Tetiankh emerge from his apartment door, step between Perti and his soldier, and start across the lawn. He was followed by a younger, shorter man in a crisp white kilt who seemed vaguely familiar. Huy’s heart sank as he sat up. Tetiankh was supposed to be resting along with Huy’s other servants. The two men came in under the shade and bowed.

“A pardon for disturbing you, Master, but I am taking the opportunity today to present to you my choice for the position of assistant body servant.” He stepped aside and gestured. “This is Kenofer of Sumenu. He has been an assistant to the keeper of the bathhouse closest to your apartments and is accomplished in the art of massage. He knows the properties and uses of every oil available in Egypt. He wishes to better himself.”

“So that’s where I’ve seen you, Kenofer of Sumenu. And where’s Sumenu?”

“It’s a town a very few miles south of Weset, Master,” Tetiankh said hurriedly. “Many important men belong to the ruling Sobek family there. Our Treasurer, Nakht-sobek, comes from Sumenu. Kenofer knows the area well and can answer any questions about it you may have.”

Huy was touched by Tetiankh’s obvious concern that his choice should make a correct impression. He looked the younger man up and down. Kenofer met his eyes without a sense of either obsequiousness or challenge. He had pleasant features, an important consideration in a servant who would be closely attending an employer returning to a bedchamber exhausted and needing the unobtrusive care of a face projecting nothing more than a welcome tranquility.

“Have I ever been under your hands?” he asked.

Kenofer shook his head. “No, Great Seer. Tetiankh would not have allowed it.”

“True. Have you a family?”

“No wife yet, Great Seer, but my parents and brothers still live in Sumenu.”

“Why would you want to serve me, Kenofer?”

An engaging smile spread across Kenofer’s rather solemn face. “A body servant is his master’s best source of gossip,” he said promptly, without a shred of embarrassment. “He hears in silence and he carries what he hears to his master. If it is merely a rumour, he says so. If it is a truth, he says so. I have heard many things, urgent, stupid, fanciful, out of the mouths of my betters as they stand on the bathing slab or lie on a bench waiting for my hands. I have ignored them all.”

“So you secretly mock your superiors?”

Tetiankh made a tiny whimper of protest. Kenofer shook his head. “Not so, Great Seer. I spoke clumsily. I ignore what is said because my knowledge of the working of the court is limited. What sounds urgent, or stupid, or fanciful, may be of the greatest importance to a master I have yet to find and tell.”

“Does he think a silence must be filled? Does he want to natter on about nothing?” Huy asked Tetiankh, then he waved them away. “It doesn’t matter. Tetiankh, he’s on trial for the next three months. Train him well.”

Both men were beaming as they bowed themselves away. Huy lay back in the soft grass and, folding his arms across his chest, gazed contentedly into the lacy foliage above him. The King would send for him later, he knew, but for now he had nothing to do. He was happy.

9

OVER THE NEXT FEW WEEKS
, the palace gradually emptied of courtiers and servants. At first Huy did not notice the less congested corridors or quieter nights. Then the daily business of the audience hall became sparse as the ambassadors left Mennofer together with the administrators who did not need to present daily reports. Huy was sometimes able to don a leather helmet and gloves and take out a chariot in the company of Tiye’s father, Yuya. So far Huy had had little to do with the Master of the King’s Horses. As Egypt’s most senior noble, Yuya commanded great power. Huy wondered whether Yuya resented his influence with Amunhotep, but nothing in Yuya’s manner suggested it. Out on the desert to the west of the city the two men raced each other, the small, light chariots making easy work of the arid terrain. The balance and skill Huy had learned at school came back to him and he welcomed the healthy ache of muscles no longer accustomed to such strains.

Once, they were accompanied by Yuya’s elder son Ay, a handsome youth a year older than his sister Tiye. Ay took the reins while his father stood protectively behind him on the wicker floor of the vehicle. Ay gave Huy the deference his position at court required, but Huy read the suspicion he had not found in Yuya behind the boy’s grey eyes. “Ay loves me very much,” Tiye had said of her brother. “He used to lie to Father and take the punishments meant for me. But now of course I behave myself with decorum, and Ay has no need to shield me from anyone. He and I are firm friends. I have you to protect me now, Uncle Huy.” Huy understood Ay’s coolness towards him if its root was mere jealousy, and was grateful that Tiye had another champion besides himself. He made a mental note to get to know the young aristocrat.

Userhet and the majority of the harem attendants sailed south with the women Mutemwia had chosen to take up residence in the new palace. Tiye and her mother did not go with them. They returned to Yuya’s estate to wait until the King himself left Mennofer.

In the lull before the final emptying of the palace, Huy reluctantly attended Amunhotep-Huy’s wedding feast, held in Heby’s tiny garden. “It should have been celebrated on Nebenkempt’s estate,” Amunhotep-Huy grumbled as he joined Huy, who was standing in the thin shade cast by the house. “Look at this crowd, crammed elbow to elbow! Father ought to have moved into something larger a long time ago. I can imagine what my new father-in-law is thinking!”

“He’s probably thinking of Heby’s wisdom in continuing to live close to his responsibilities as Mennofer’s Mayor,” Huy replied. “Commander Nebenkempt is no spoiled court dandy. Your father is building a new house by the river now that he’s relinquished control of the city. How is your own project progressing on the lake?”

Amunhotep-Huy’s scowl deepened. “His Majesty has ordered me to take my new wife there and oversee the erecting of the house myself for a while. He said that as my first tour of the sepats as Vizier won’t take place until after the harvest, I should concentrate on making Henut-nofret happy. She does love Ta-she.” His expression softened briefly as he craned to see her through the press of jewelled and perfumed bodies. Huy had shared a few pleasantries with her earlier. She was undeniably beautiful and well bred, but shy, almost timid. Huy did not think she would be happy with his cantankerous nephew.

“I don’t think His Majesty wants me in Weset,” Amunhotep-Huy finished sourly. “I’m his most senior administrator now. How will he consult with me if he’s almost at one end of Egypt and I’m stuck miles out in the desert at the other? Ta-she is a magnificent lake. The town of Mi-wer on its banks is surrounded by lushness. But I won’t enjoy spending my time harassing my architect and sailing with my wife for long.”

He left abruptly, pushing his way through the guests, and Huy watched him go.
Why did you make him Vizier, Mutemwia?
he asked silently.
He has almost no tact, surely a vital asset for any high official, and too quick a temper. The governors will not like dealing with him. I don’t believe that you suffered a lapse in judgment when you took the position of Scribe of Recruits away from him
. With relief Huy saw Nebenkempt threading his way through the fluttering linens.

“I’ll be captaining the
Kha-em-Ma’at
to Weset next week, Huy,” he called as he extricated himself and stepped into the shadow. “Thank you. The last time I did so was for the King’s father.”

“It’s your prerogative.” Huy smiled. “Will you find it more difficult to see to the affairs of the navy from Weset? At least you and I will be close to Nekheb, where the new ships are being built. Incidentally, with the King residing permanently at Weset, we must talk about reorganizing the placement of the divisions.” They fell into an easy discussion of their several responsibilities, eventually sliding to the sparse grass and putting their backs against the wall of Heby’s house. Paneb, unobtrusive and ever-present, had reached for his palette, but Huy shook his head. The hour was precious, time spent with a man who was fast becoming a friend, and neither of them looked up until the throng began to thin and Henut-nofret approached. The men scrambled to their feet and Huy bowed.

“Mother has had a room prepared for Amunhotep-Huy and me at home, Father,” the girl said. She was flushed, Huy noted, and her words were slightly slurred. “We will leave for Ta-she in the morning. Amunhotep-Huy is saying goodbye to his family.” She executed an unsteady bow to Huy and retreated.

Nebenkempt laughed. “There’s nothing quite as pleasant as a heket of beer on a hot day, although Henut-nofret prefers getting drunk on grape wine. Well, Scribe, it has been a momentous and joyful occasion. I pray they will be as contented with each other as my wife and I have been.” He embraced Huy and started away.

Huy wanted to catch his arm.
If there is trouble, come to me
, he wanted to say.
If Henut-nofret needs escape, tell me first and not the King
. Illogically, he felt a need to defend the honour of his family. He had not forgotten his nephew’s agreement that family loyalty, if it did not collide with one’s duty to the King, came before all else.

“I love my son, but I fear that little Henut-nofret will not be strong enough to curb his tendency to bully everyone he can.” Heby’s voice seemed to echo Huy’s own thoughts. He turned to find his brother beside him. “Now that Amunhotep-Huy’s a Vizier, he’s no longer inferior in station to his father-in-law,” Heby went on. “I’m afraid it means trouble for that sweet girl. Nebenkempt has been very generous in his gifts to the pair of them, and of course if she ends up divorcing him she’ll take it all back when she goes. Amunhotep-Huy won’t be pleased.” He blew out his lips. “Why am I worrying about all that now? Habit when it comes to my children, I suppose. Tell me, Huy, when are you leaving Mennofer? The Queen tells me that you’ll be travelling on
Kha-em-Ma’at
with her and the King.” He slung an arm around Huy’s shoulder. “Don’t disappear back to your lair just yet. Come inside. You and Iupia and I will pick at the remains of the feast and share the gossip. After all, I won’t be seeing you again for some time.”

Inside the house, the lamps were being lit, giving the modest rooms a cozy glow. Iupia was sitting back being fanned by her body servant, who was waved away as the two men entered.

“Thank the gods that’s over,” she said. “Prahotep, bring us date wine. My stomach is upset.” Heby’s steward nodded and withdrew. “Ramose is spending the night with Anen on Chief Rekhit Yuya’s estate,” she continued as Heby and Huy sat. “As Prince of Ipu, Anen will be heading south, and Ramose is going to miss him a great deal. We have the house to ourselves, Heby. It’d be a lovely night to drift on the river under the full moon, with you also, Huy, but I’m just too tired. Tomorrow we must make the short journey to Hut-herib for the Beautiful Feast of the Valley, and offer food and prayers to your parents.”

With a jolt, Huy remembered that the Feast was always celebrated at Payni’s full moon. The tombs of the deceased were blessed with incense, and families would gather outside the sealed entrances to eat and commune with their dead relatives.
Next year I shall join Thothhotep in venerating Anhur, while Heby does his duty for our parents Hapu and Itu. What will next year bring?
I wonder. He accepted the wine Prahotep was pouring for him, and drank. As always, it began to settle his stomach. Iupia too seemed to find it soothing. The conversation became agreeably comfortable and spasmodic, the idle comments of three weary but contented people.

Huy finally took his leave and was carried back to the palace in his litter.
Mutemwia won’t leave until the Beautiful Feast is over
, he mused drowsily.
I’ll make the overnight journey to Hut-herib with Heby and Iupia tomorrow and visit my estate afterwards. It will be my last chance to greet Merenra and all my old servants, and perhaps sit in my garden surrounded by memories. If Physician Seneb is waiting to poke at me tonight, I’ll send him away. All I need now are opium and sleep
.

The King readily gave Huy permission to go to Hut-herib for a couple of days, and after the poignant ceremonies at his parents’ tomb Heby and Iupia returned to Mennofer. Huy hurried to his estate. The old gate guard, Kar, still sat in his mud-brick shelter by the gate above Huy’s watersteps, and greeted him with a nod and a grunt. Steward Merenra and the members of Huy’s staff who had been either too old or merely unwilling to take up positions in Huy’s palace household stood bunched together in an excited group, smiling and bobbing as Huy, Paneb, Ba-en-Ra, Tetiankh, and Captain Perti with his contingent of soldiers walked the short distance to the house. The walls had been freshly whitewashed, Huy noted with approval. Neat rows of vegetables and flowers filled the garden. Amongst the stand of mature date palms lining the little canal running from the river to the edge of the plots, the stalks of the henna plants Huy’s last gardener, Seshemnefer, had been allowed to cultivate for his own profit looked bare and ugly. Seshemnefer harvested the flowers and sold them to the dyers. Huy was pleased to see that he still did so—or someone did, on Seshemnefer’s behalf. Seshemnefer and his wife Khnit, Huy’s cook, had been sent to oversee the estate on the shore of lake Ta-she that the Rekhet had deeded to Huy in her will. Huy had never seen it.