The Season of the Hyaena

Chapter 3

I went along a painted corridor deep into the palace. The windows on either side overlooked the gardens, but these had been ill-tended and the stench of corrupt vegetation blended with the fragrance of the flowers. Nakhtimin’s mercenaries stood on guard in alcoves and recesses. From the courtyard below I heard a servant recite the curse against crocodiles; these river beasts sometimes followed the irrigation canals into the palace, where they’d lurk amongst the bushes and shrubbery. The chilling, ominous prayer wafted up:

I crossed a courtyard blazing with light; guards stood aside, copper-plated doors swung open. I entered the women’s quarters, at the centre of which lay Ankhesenamun’s chambers, with their red and yellow lotus pillars, floors of polished tile and walls decorated with the most vivid paintings. Flunkies, servants and officials lounged about: the Director of Her Highness’ Nail-Doers, Chief of the Scented Oils and Perfumes, Holder of the Imperial Sandals, Keeper of the Jewellery, Master of the Cloths, all eunuchs with the bulging belly and breasts of pregnant women. They gossiped and moved around in a swirl of perfume, all officious, pretending to be busy. A cat chased a black and white monkey, which scampered up a pillar screeching in annoyance. A blind harpist, dead-eyed, plucked at strings. Dancing girls and acrobats in beaded, fringed loincloths, bodies coated in perfumed sweat, hair piled high in bound cord, were trying to clear a space to practise their skill, whilst flirting with the burly mercenary officers.

I went through more doorways, their lintels and pillars carved with lacework inscriptions, into a small room which served as a chapel where a group of shaven-headed priests garbed in panther skins lit bowls of incense before a statue of the Pharaoh Tuthmosis. This was once the heart of the Great Palace of Amenhotep the Magnificent, Ankhesenamun’s grandfather, who loved to collect pottery and vases of cobalt blue and delighted in covering the walls with the symbol of every deity of Egypt: the goose of Amun, the bull of Ptah, the goat of Osiris, the ram of Khnum. The air was sweet from fat drenched in perfume and the scent of countless flower baskets, as well as the incense smoke from the small thuribles glowing in the corners. A chamberlain stopped me outside the Painted Chamber. He knocked and led me in. I flinched at the heady perfume whilst my bare feet felt the lapis lazuli dust strewn on the floor. Caskets and coffers lay about, lids open. Lamps and candles glowed, glittering on the robes piled in a heap. A pet goose screeched whilst a monkey squatting on a table devoured a plum, its juices dribbling down on to the floor. On either side of the curtain were two black wooden busts of Akenhaten, their eyes of jasper peering sightlessly into the darkness, a reminder of his presence which caused a shift amongst the shadows in my soul. The carved face, in the light of the oil lamps glowing beneath, exuded an eerie life of its own, as if still possessed by the power of that mysterious Pharaoh.

The chamberlain bowed towards the busts, then pulled the curtains aside. Ankhesenamun was sitting on a high stool circled by oil lamps. She was naked except for a loincloth, a see-through veil thrown across her shoulders. She was being anointed on her face and head by her friend and constant companion Amedeta, who served as her principal lady-in-waiting. In looks, they were almost similar. Amedeta was slightly older, yet she had the same sensuous face, sloe eyes and pretty mouth. She was dressed in a diaphanous robe and floated around Ankhesenamun grasping an unguent jar carved in the shape of two chickens trussed for sacrifice. She moved silently, body swaying beneath the robe, the heavy tresses of her perfumed wig almost shrouding her face, around her throat a silver necklace. She and Ankhesenamun were murmuring to each other. As I approached, they began to recite a love poem aloud, beautiful lilting voices mouthing the words together:

When they had finished the poem, Amedeta continued her anointing whilst Ankhesenamun stared out through the window as if listening to the sounds of the night. I heard the rattle of a chain and glanced to the corner; it was only her trained cheetah stirring in its sleep. I coughed and stepped forward. Ankhesenamun turned. I had to remind myself that she was only a girl between fourteen and fifteen summers, for in the oil lamp she looked a beautiful, sensuous woman with those heavy-lidded eyes, her lips parted.

‘Why, Mahu, Baboon of the South! Why are you here so late at night?’

Amedeta had moved so her back was towards me. I could tell she was laughing quietly to herself.

‘And how is His Majesty?’

‘He sleeps.’

‘Why are you here, Baboon of the South?’

‘I prefer that title, Your Highness, to the Striped Hyaena.’

Ankhesenamun laughed and whispered to Amedeta. The lady-in-waiting turned, smiling seductively over her shoulder at me. She put down the oil jar and slipped from the chamber.

‘Well, Mahu, why are you truly here?’

‘The Shabtis of Akenhaten.’

‘What Shabtis?’

‘Do not act the innocent with me. You know what happened.’

‘I know Rahmose was killed and his assassin now hangs from the Wall of Death.’

‘Rahmose was wearing my cloak.’

‘So?’

‘I was the intended victim.’

‘You don’t really believe that?’

Ankhesenamun got off the stool and came towards me. She pulled the gauze-like shawl tighter about her, which served only to emphasise her full breasts, their nipples painted in gold.

‘Would you like me to dance for you, Uncle Mahu?’ She stretched out her arm, clicking her fingers, and moved rhythmically, languorously, little steps, hips swaying.

‘I do not want you to dance for me, Your Highness, but to answer my questions.’

She paused, hands coyly together.

‘Mahu, you are so dull.’

‘I’m alive. I could have been dead. I want to know how a gardener owned a precious ruby. How a gardener attacked a man wearing a striped cloak. You knew what I was wearing this morning.’

‘Oh, Mahu, others know you wear it!’

‘How many others give gardeners beautiful rubies?’

‘Oh no.’ Ankhesenamun flounced down on a high-backed chair. ‘I know you wear a striped robe. So according to you I seduced the gardener, gave him a ruby from my casket and told him to kill you. However, he made a mistake and murdered Rahmose instead. He then tried to flee, but the door he tried was wedged fast shut and the guards killed him. He was a gardener in the royal household, so someone here must have hired him.’

‘Your Highness is very knowledgeable.’

‘I am knowledgeable because you are right. I did arrange it. The gardener,’ she pouted, ‘well, he was a friend and has done similar tasks before.’ She played with a sphinx armlet of gold inlaid with lapis lazuli, cornelian and turquoise, and then, as if bored by that, picked from a nearby table an ebonite fan edged with gold and shook it vigorously to cool her face.

‘I am not a child, Mahu. I have been married to my father. I have given birth to one child who died. I am surrounded by enemies and so, like you, I bite before I am bitten. Why not ask me outright and I’ll reply?’

She rose and went through the curtains behind me, I heard her pull across the bolts on the door. She walked back, no longer seductive and languorous, but businesslike, pacing up and down, twisting the ring on her finger.

‘I heard the news from the Delta about the impostor who has appeared.’

‘You are certain he is an impostor?’ I asked.

‘I am sure. Well,’ she shrugged, ‘I think so. But leave that for a while.’ She turned to face me squarely. ‘I had Rahmose killed because I believe those sanctimonious hypocrites Meryre, Tuthmosis and the rest of the devout are much more dangerous than you, or even Grandfather, think. If they are not killed, they’ll certainly kill you.’

‘You have proof of this?’

‘The gardener,’ she raised her hand, ‘I told him exactly what to do, which door would be left open, but he was becoming too arrogant. I placed the wedge beneath the door. He paid the price for his insolence.’

‘But you said you had used him before?’

‘Sobeck must have told you how there are other precious rubies for sale in the markets in Eastern Thebes.’

‘I am sure there are.’

Ankhesenamun sat down on a chair. ‘Mahu, I am thirsty. Pour us each a goblet of Carian wine and come and sit close to me.’ She gestured to a footstool. ‘We are allies, not enemies. Father trusted you, that’s why he made you guardian of his son.’

I filled the goblets, came back and sat on the footstool, staring up. You are Nefertiti’s daughter, I thought, if not in looks then certainly in soul. As if she could read my mind, Ankhesenamun tweaked the end of my nose, a favourite gesture of her mother.

‘I thought you’d come, Mahu. You’ve been back in Thebes only a few months. I could not search you out but had to wait for you to approach me. So, I shall tell you the truth.’ She grinned. ‘Or at least part of the truth. I am with you and the Prince, not with my grandfather. He nurses ambitions, you know, Mahu.’ She chuckled at my look of puzzlement. ‘As long as Tutankhamun lives,’ she whispered, ‘Ay, Horemheb and all the rest of the hyaenas are kept in check. But if my half-brother dies, to whom does the double crown go?’

‘You could rule as Queen,’ I replied. ‘It would not be the first time.’

‘But who would support me, Mahu? Grandfather? Horemheb?’

‘Hatchesphut ruled alone.’

‘History!’ Ankhesenamun snapped. ‘And she married her half-brother so there was always a male heir. Between me and the darkness, Mahu, there’s nothing.’

‘So, Ay dreams of becoming Pharaoh?’ I laughed. ‘It’s not inconceivable.’

‘But so do others, Mahu! Horemheb claims to be a royal bastard, of the blood of Amenhotep the Magnificent. And why stop there? What about General Rameses? Or even Huy, Maya …?’

‘No,’ I replied, shaking my head.

‘Or even Meryre? That’s why they are all united against this usurper. Enough contestants for the crown imperial reside at court without pretenders in the north.’

‘Meryre?’ I scoffed.

‘He sees himself as High Priest of the Aten, the spiritual successor of my father, but he is corrupt and sanctimonious.’ She leaned closer, her lips only a few inches from my cheek. ‘Did you know our High Priest invites me to his supper banquets? In his cups he admitted he would love to see me and Amedeta couple together on a bed. A vile man, Mahu, of bounding ambition, without the talent to match. This trouble in the Delta, I suspect Meryre has a hand in it, whatever he says! In his cups he is silly and clucks like a chicken. But sober, Meryre is as dangerous and as threatening as the rest. What if, Mahu,’ she drew back, ‘Meryre and the Atenists use this usurper to sweep the board clean of all of you, Horemheb, Rameses and the other Children of the Kap? How long do you think little Tutankhamun will survive, or myself?’ She smiled thinly. ‘Though Meryre has ambitions in that quarter: marriage to me when he proclaims himself Pharaoh of Egypt.’

‘No.’ I shook my head in disbelief. ‘I have spies in Eastern and Western Thebes; Sobeck and Djarka sift the gossip like wheat from chaff.’

‘Do you think Meryre is going to tell anyone?’ Ankhesenamun laughed. ‘Do you know the whereabouts of all my father’s treasures?’ She rose and walked across the room, keeping her back to me as she took off the shawl and donned a sleeveless shift. Then, rewrapping the shawl, she came back and sipped from her wine cup.

‘How do you know all this, Highness?’

‘Because Meryre thinks I’m his ally.’

‘And why should he think that?’

‘Because I told him that the Shabtis of Akenhaten are a sect of assassins controlled by you.’

‘What?’ I moved so violently the wine in my cup slopped over. The cheetah scrambled to his feet but Ankhesenamun turned and cooed softly in his direction. The great cat stretched, amber eyes glowing at me, before sprawling back on the floor.

‘Listen to me, listen to me,’ she urged. ‘The Shabtis of Akenhaten do not exist. The gardener was seduced by Amedeta, who paid him to kill minor officials, supporters of Meryre’s circle, Atenists who appeared to have forsaken the great vision.’

‘One man!’ I exclaimed.

‘And why not?’ Ankhesenamun laughed. ‘You are Chief of Police, Mahu. There is murder and rapine in Thebes every day, whilst at night the city is as dangerous as a crocodile pool. I decided to strike at Meryre; the gardener was my weapon. At the same time I lulled Meryre’s suspicions. He believes I am opposed to my grandfather and the Children of the Kap.’

‘And what does he intend?’

‘Eventually to seize power himself.’

‘But why not confront him? Hand this information to your grandfather? Ay and the rest would tear him to pieces.’

‘What proof, Mahu? Apart from hushed conversations. And how would I convince God’s Father Ay, not to mention the rest, that I wasn’t a part of Meryre’s plot?’

‘So why did you have Rahmose killed? Meryre will think that I am responsible.’

‘Mahu, in his eyes you and the rest are already guilty. Rahmose was dangerous.’

‘He was an old soldier suffering from fever.’

‘He was dangerous to me, Mahu. God’s Father Ay had singled him out.’

Ankhesenamun paused and closed her eyes.

‘Rahmose, how can I put it, was beginning to have reservations about Meryre’s ambitions.’

‘Of course,’ I whispered. ‘And if he was suborned by Ay, Rahmose might tell God’s Father what the Princess Ankhesenamun had been involved in.’

‘Did I say just God’s Father Ay?’ She smiled, opening her eyes. ‘Or me? No.’ She shook her head. ‘Rahmose was also being courted by his former friends Generals Horemheb and Rameses. They, too, have been busy on their own business.’

I put down the wine cup and placed my face in my hands. What Ankhesenamun had told me made sense. The Royal Circle was breaking apart; the only clasp was Tutankhamun. If he died there would be three factions: the generals, led by Horemheb and Rameses; the great nobles and officials, Ay, Huy, Maya and possibly myself; finally the Atenists, led by Meryre. Each would try and suborn the others. Alliances would be fluid as people changed groups or decided to jump from one camp to another. Nothing was distinct. Horemheb and Rameses had the Memphis regiments, but Ay had Nakhtimin’s troops and the mercenaries around Thebes. Which way would Huy and Maya go? Not to mention Pentju and Sobeck? The latter controlled the gangs of Thebes and would be useful in any attempted coup.

‘So the Shabtis are a figment of your imagination?’

‘Yes. I portrayed them as fanatics deeply loyal to my father’s memory, acting on their own or controlled by one of the factions in the Royal Circle. I promised Meryre that I would discover if anyone else was involved.’ She blinked prettily. ‘Apart from you.’

‘And what else have you offered?’ I demanded.

‘That you will eventually surrender the Prince into his care.’ Ankhesenamun tapped me on the cheek. ‘Don’t be foolish, Mahu, the only thing I have offered is myself. Meryre nearly choked in his excitement.’

‘And now the Shabtis will disappear?’

‘Naturally. I’ve caused enough chaos. The gardener served his purpose. Meryre believes I am estranged from God’s Father Ay and looking for other allies.’

‘Has he mentioned anything about the Usurper in the Delta?’

She shook her head. ‘Only hints. Once, in his cups, Meryre mused on what would happen if my father returned, but that’s as much as he said. Now, Mahu, you are going to ask why I am telling you this. I have heard the decision of the Royal Circle. You and Meryre are to be sent north to negotiate.’

‘Who told you that?’

‘Now, Mahu, I only promised to tell you part of the truth. I’ve shared my little secret so that you will be safe. I’m warning you. Now you know some of what I know, you’ll be wary of Meryre. Be vigilant; you must do whatever you have to.’

‘Of course,’ I whispered. ‘If something happens to me, Tutankhamun becomes more vulnerable, and the more vulnerable he becomes …’

Ankhesenamun pressed her fingers against my forehead. ‘You and I, Mahu, are closely linked to my half-brother. You are the one man my father trusted, even when his brain became fevered and his wits wandered. He entrusted Tutankhamun to you, and in doing so, entrusted me. Of all the hyaenas you are the most loyal. You have no ambition.’ She took her hand away and laughed. ‘Or at least, I think you don’t.’

‘How can you be so sure,’ I demanded, ‘that the Usurper is a liar?’

‘I could say I know because I know.’ She paused and shivered slightly in the breeze seeping through the window. ‘I hate the darkness, Mahu. My father used to sit in the dark; he would glower at me and my sister, Meritaten. He would often challenge us: could he trust us? We’d reply that we were his daughters and his wives, but he’d shake his head. Sometimes he would shout abuse or just sit cradling a wine cup, muttering under his breath. Meritaten was weak, often terrified and deeply disgusted that she was her father’s own wife.’ She picked up my wine cup and thrust it back into my hands. ‘Eventually, I was banished from my father’s presence; only Meritaten remained, then Mother came back. After Akenhaten disappeared and Nefertiti had proclaimed herself his co-regent, Meritaten confessed … I don’t know whether she told the truth …’ Ankhesenamun’s eyes held mine. ‘Meritaten confessed,’ she whispered, ‘that Akenhaten had not disappeared! He was murdered by our mother, and his body still lies concealed in the City of the Aten.’

She clucked under her tongue and the cheetah padded across and crouched by her. Ankhesenamun gently scratched between its ears, and the cat purred deeply in its throat.

‘You are surprised, Mahu?’

‘Not that Akenhaten was murdered,’ I responded, ‘but that Nefertiti was responsible.’

‘Their love had turned to hate.’

I pulled a face. ‘I find that difficult to accept. How did Meritaten know all this?’

‘Because Nefertiti told her.’

‘But she produced no proof?’

‘None at all.’

‘And did she say where the body was buried?’

‘Nefertiti claimed that those mercenaries, the same ones you destroyed when you ousted her from power, prepared the body and hid it away in a cave under the eastern cliffs.’

I stared at the cat, eyes mere slits, purring with pleasure. During his stay at the City of the Aten, Akenhaten had ordered tombs to be dug in the limestone cliffs which overlooked the city. One such sepulchre had been prepared for him but never finished. Now these caves and caverns held a host of caskets and coffers of those who had died at Akenhaten’s court: some by natural causes, others hastily buried when the great pestilence had struck.

‘I often asked Meritaten,’ Ankhesenamun continued, ‘if my mother was lying. Meritaten was easy to frighten; I wonder if my mother was quietly threatening her with a similar fate if she didn’t co-operate.’

‘But Nefertiti never told you?’

I started as the beaded curtains shifted in the light breeze.

‘Never once.’ Ankhesenamun rubbed her hands together and, leaning over, gently whispered at the cheetah, caressing the side of its face. The cat yawned, stretched and padded back to its corner. Ankhesenamun rose to her feet clasping her wine cup and moved across to the window.

‘So, Mahu, we are united in this!’ She glanced over her shoulder. ‘It is foolish of you to go north with Meryre, though I know the reason. You must take care. Think carefully before you trust yourself to that treacherous snake and whatever he has plotted.’ She turned away, a sign that the meeting was over. I rose, bowed and left.

Amedeta was waiting in the antechamber, sitting on a divan, head resting back against the wall. I wondered how much she knew and how much she could be trusted. She glanced at me from under her eyelids and raised a hand slowly in mock salutation. I responded and returned to my own quarters. Djarka was already in the House of Adoration. Sobeck had returned to the courtyard, where one of the mercenaries was now singing a low mournful song. I retired to my chamber.

For a while I sat in my chair, going over the events of the day. That was how it was in the Malkata Palace at that time. Time would travel smoothly, events would pass, one day into the next, week after week, month after month, like the river flowing between the banks, until something happened to shatter the serenity, to make the hairs on the nape of your neck curl as you realised events were taking a more dangerous twist. So it was then. The Royal Circle, which had remained united in a state of self-preservation after Nefertiti’s death, was now breaking up. Ankhesenamun was dabbling and I had to decide whether she was doing it of her own accord or at her grandfather’s bidding. The real reason she had confided in me was not because of any trust — at the court of the Malkata Palace trust was as rare as water in the Red Lands — but more because I was the Prince’s protector and guardian. As Tutankhamun matured, my importance would grow. I would become his eyes and ears; after all, the bonds fashioned in childhood are often the strongest.

I dozed for a while, regretting slightly that I had given my word to join Meryre’s embassy to the north. A servant came in and asked if I wanted something to eat. I replied that I didn’t. I heard him clucking under his tongue, muttering about how the laundry woman had left a basket of laundry unpacked. I was so tired I ignored the remark until I abruptly remembered how, earlier that day, before the Royal Circle met, I’d seen two women unload clean linen from their basket.

‘Leave it.’ I whirled round, but the man was already busy with the linen. He stared up in astonishment.

‘My lord, it’s-’ He stepped back, screaming with pain, dropping the linen on the floor, clutching his arm. I jumped up, grasped the conch horn where it hung from a hook on a post and blew a blast. The man staggered back and collapsed to the ground, still screaming. I moved carefully, and even as I did, the linen cloths on the floor shifted and one, two and then a third snake coiled out, long, slim and black with a yellow dash on their foreheads. I recognised them as the most dangerous of snakes: rock adders. One bite was fatal enough.

Outside echoed the sound of hurrying feet, and my captain of mercenaries appeared in the doorway. Sword drawn, he stared in disbelief. The servant now lay on the floor, feet jerking, body in convulsions. His hideous choking chilled the blood.

‘Stand back,’ I warned.

The mercenary captain saw the snakes creeping out from beneath the sheets. They posed no real danger, immediately sliding towards the warmth of the braziers. The servant was beyond help. White foam laced his lips; he gave one last convulsive cry and lay still.

‘A spear!’ I shouted.

The mercenary captain slid one along the floor. I picked it up, edged around the furniture towards him and threw myself out of the door. The mercenary captain followed, and taking off his cloak, stuffed it under the bottom of the door to seal the snakes in.

‘My lord, you are well?’

‘For a man supposed to be dead,’ I wiped the sweat from my face, ‘I am passably fine.’

‘An accident?’

I gazed into his bloodshot eyes.

‘One snake, Captain, perhaps! Three or four in a pile of laundry … don’t be stupid!’ I went and sat on a chair in the antechamber, and gestured towards the door. ‘Leave that for a while, at least for an hour. When you open the door you’ll find the snakes near the braziers or oil lamps. Used to the sun, they’ll seek whatever heat there is. That chamber must be searched from ceiling to floor. I also want you to find out who brought the laundry basket up here.’

I sat waiting for the shaking to stop. Sobeck arrived. I told him what had happened and asked him to check the House of Adoration. He returned.

‘All is well.’ He pulled a stool towards me and sat down. ‘An inauspicious day for you, my lord?’

The captain of the guard returned, and announced that two women had been seen carrying a laundry basket into my chamber.

‘Didn’t you search it?’

‘We did,’ the Captain protested. ‘But the snakes were probably coiled at the bottom. When you lift a lid off a basket, master, and you see linen sheets, the idea of snakes never occurs to you.’

I bellowed at him not to be sarcastic and ordered him to arrest the two laundry women and bring them before me. Sobeck poured me some wine. A short while later two women, whom I recognised as serving in the royal quarters, were hustled up, their faces creased with sleep, terrified at the accusations levelled against them. The guards had not been gentle; one of the women already had a bloody lip. They nosed the ground before me, their cries and shrieks ringing through the chamber. I pressed a foot against each of their heads.

‘Look up,’ I ordered, withdrawing my foot.

Both women raised tear-streaked faces.

‘The Captain has told you?’

Again shrieks and cries from the older one, but the younger, apparently her daughter, glared fiercely at me.

‘We will die,’ she protested, ‘for something we did not do.’

I told her mother to shut up and turned back to her.

‘Why, what did you do?’

‘We were in the laundry room,’ she gabbled. ‘We were eating bread and drinking beer, our usual meal, our duties finished. A messenger came in. We thought it was one of the chamberlains. He said laundry had to be taken to your quarters and we were told to do it immediately. The basket was outside the door.’

‘But you brought fresh sheets,’ I countered, ‘earlier today.’

‘He said wine had been spilt, that we were to take the basket up immediately. So we did, it was searched by your guard and we left it in the chamber. We were puzzled because we looked at the bed and could not see any stains; it was as we left it earlier. My lord, we are just servants. We do what we are told.’

I studied both women closely and recognised their innocence. I drained the gold-embossed wine cup and thrust it into the young woman’s hands.

‘In future only take orders from someone you recognise — now go!’

I told the mercenary captain to clear the chamber and sat for a while with Sobeck.

‘Before you ask,’ he stretched out his legs, ‘it could be anyone. That’s the real danger here, Mahu. This is not like a battle where you know friend from foe.’

That night I slept in the Prince’s chamber and awoke early to prepare for the great oath-taking in the Hall of Appearances. I shaved and washed carefully. I donned my finest robes of pure-white gauffered linen, bound round the middle with a blue and red-gold sash, collars of gold round my neck. I went and greeted the Prince, then walked along cavernous echoing passages and into the central courtyard with its soaring statues of Anubis and Horus. The rest of the Royal Circle with their retinues clustered at the foot of the palace steps. I had walked there alone, determined to show how the events of the night before had not frightened me. Of course, the news had spread. Each one came up to express his horror; to urge that the perpetrator of such an assault should be searched out and executed. I thanked them all grimly.

The High Priest Anen came down the steps, his acolytes, heads all shaven, dressed in their purest robes, almost hidden by the gusts of incense. We lined up in formal procession and climbed the palace steps, past the pillars brilliantly decorated with every known colour depicting inscriptions and paintings of long-dead Pharaohs, through the great bronze-plated doors and into the Hall of Appearances. Here the divine choirs were ready, singing a hymn to the Gods of Egypt. Afterwards we took the sacred oath: to serve our Prince loyally and win the munificence of the Gods for the well-being of Tomery, the Kingdom of the Two Lands.

Once we were in the council chamber, however, the mood changed. The gravity of the situation was brought home to us by Anen, who, instead of the introductory prayer, gave full vent to a litany of lamentations.

He paused and stared around the Royal Circle. My gaze never left Ay, his cunning face all concerned and anxious. I idly speculated whether the dirge was his idea or that of Horemheb and Rameses, who were nodding in agreement at every word. Anen continued:

Anen paused once more. At any other time I would have guffawed with laughter, but Anen’s harsh sermon was reminding the members of the Royal Circle that we faced revolution where the first would be last and the last first.

Anen knelt down. The scribes sitting in the middle of the circle had taken down every word, but once Anen had finished, Ay made a sign for them to cease their writing. I noticed how each of these scribes was a high-ranking member of Ay’s retinue.

‘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.’