Egypt

38

I stood before Horemheb, in his office within the Memphis military compound. At first his handsome, cold face betrayed nothing as he stared out of the window. ‘These men will be arrested immediately! I will interrogate them myself, and then they will be executed. They have disgraced the army and the Two Lands of Egypt.’

But this would not serve my purpose.

‘Consider again, lord. Only two people know about this: you and I. These men have no idea we know about their activities. But they are not the important ones. They are the workers, not the head. We must track the shipment of opium to Thebes, to see where it goes-to see who receives it. To see who is behind the operation that is selling the opium on the streets. Those are the key men. The killers.’

He stared suspiciously at me. I had to persuade him.

‘There is still more to this. There is a commander who runs it all. He has a code-name. Obsidian. I believe he’s one of your men. He is extremely dangerous. He created and instigated everything, inside the Egyptian army itself, inside the Seth division, for his own profit. Such a man is extremely dangerous to you. Imagine how much power he commands. Imagine the disastrous effect of his work. Imagine what could happen if he has power in Thebes, especially at this highly sensitive moment for the Two Lands…’ I said.

I let the implications of that do their own work; for if Obsidian were not caught, Horemheb’s ability to command the city would be severely compromised. Worse still, if the corruption came to light, his claim to the royal succession would be profoundly damaged, no matter how many divisions he ordered to take over Thebes, no matter how brutally efficient the martial law he might impose. Horemheb’s face was taut with suppressed rage at this unexpected flaw in his grand plan.

‘Find this Obsidian. But I want him alive. Keep me informed at all times, and when the moment comes, I will personally command the troops that attack these traitors, and I will destroy them and their filthy trade. All corruption will be wiped out in the new Egypt; none will be tolerated. And I will personally silence this Obsidian. Be sure you deliver him to me. You know the price of failure,’ he said quietly.

I nodded and turned away. He had given me what I wanted: permission to track down Obsidian. But he was my prize, and I would never give up the satisfaction of my revenge for Khety’s death, not to Horemheb or anyone else.

As I passed through the doorway, he called out: ‘And remember this, Rahotep. I don’t trust you. I won’t hesitate to destroy you if you put one foot out of place. You have three days to accomplish everything. Ay is dead. A storm is coming to Egypt now, a storm that will cleanse and purify the corruption and the chaos into which we have descended as a result of the selfish decadence of the so-called royal family and those fat, self-satisfied priests. Their time is over. My time is now.’