The Season of the Hyaena (Ancient Egyptian Mysteries) (11 page)

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Authors: Paul Doherty

BOOK: The Season of the Hyaena (Ancient Egyptian Mysteries)
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‘Things are bad,’ Maya drawled in a futile attempt to provoke laughter, ‘but not that bad.’
‘Aren’t they!’ Meryre shouted back. ‘Yesterday evening General Rahmose was assassinated, and I understand,’ he turned his black kohl-ringed eyes towards me, ‘that a similar attempt was made on the lord Mahu, Chief of Police, Protector of our Prince.’
‘True. We face disorder and revolution,’ Ay murmured, ‘but these dangers will pass.’
‘Will the lord Mahu come with us to the Delta?’ Meryre asked with a wave of his hand. ‘Lord Mahu, your presence is vital to determine how this – how can I put it – new crisis is resolved.’
‘I will accompany you,’ I replied.
‘Ah, yes.’ Meryre plucked at his robes. ‘But should I go?’
He let his words hang in the air. Huy clicked his tongue in annoyance.
‘The Shabtis of Akenhaten,’ Meryre continued, ‘have carried out attacks on all those who once served in the City of the Aten. Now they strike higher: General Rahmose, Lord Mahu.’
‘What do you want?’ Horemheb’s voice cut across the room. ‘My lord Meryre, you know your presence is needed in the Delta. We all agreed to this yesterday. This usurper would never dream of attacking a high priest, particularly one of the Aten. Nor would they lift their hand,’ Horemheb played with the ring on his finger, ‘against the official Protector of our Prince. Your persons are sacred and safe. If any of us were sent on such an embassy we would be dealt with as traitors.’
‘More to the point,’ Rameses intervened, ‘General Horemheb and I are needed here to raise whatever troops are necessary to deal with this usurper. The House of Silver requires the attention of Lord Maya, whilst it is essential that Lord Huy maintains rigour in the House of Envoys and tries to discover if this usurper is supported by other princes.’
‘Of course,’ Meryre intervened with a smirk, ‘my lord Ay could accompany us.’
Ay just sat, hands on his thighs, staring across the council chamber.
‘My lord,’ Horemheb retorted, ‘such a remark borders on insolence. Will you go or won’t you?’
‘On two conditions,’ Meryre snapped.
‘If you go,’ Ay intervened, ‘then, my lord, you should be gone within the week. We have spent enough time on this matter. I regret the attacks. General Rahmose’s death has caused great grief and heartache. Once you are gone, we shall observe the official days of mourning. As for the assault on Lord Mahu, careful search will be made. So, my lord Meryre, what are your conditions?’
‘First, that Prince Tutankhamun be removed from Thebes. The events of yesterday prove this city cannot be trusted. There are many here who hate the Aten and wage war against those who serve the One.’
‘And where should he be removed to?’ I asked.
‘Back to the City of the Aten. He will be safe there.’
‘But the city’s dying,’ Rameses snapped. ‘Its houses are crumbling, its palaces deserted.’
‘It’s still safer,’ Meryre insisted. ‘Would you not agree, Lord Mahu? It can be approached from the Eastern Desert, but the terrain is difficult and controlled by sentries on the clifftops. The only other approach is by river, and that can easily be guarded.’
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.’

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