Tutankhamun: The Book of Shadows

30

Tutankhamun was sitting on his travelling throne, staring at nothing, holding the dead monkey like a baby in his lap. I bowed my head and waited for him to speak.

‘You saved my life,’ he said, eventually, flatly.

I remained silent.

‘You will be rewarded,’ he continued. ‘Look up.’

I did so, and I saw to my relief that something important had changed in him.

‘I confess that everything that has happened in these last weeks has brought great fear into my heart. Sometimes I was afraid to be alive. And fear itself became my master. But the King of the Two Lands must not be afraid. It is time to conquer my fear, to give it no authority. Otherwise what will I be, but the prey of shadows?’

‘Fear is human, lord,’ I said, carefully, ‘but it is wise to learn its deceits and its powers, in order to control and defeat them.’

‘You are right. And in doing so, I learn the deceits of those who would use fear against me; those who would use the images of death to terrify me. But if I give death no sway, then fear has no sway. Is that not true, Rahotep?’

‘It is true, lord. But it is common to all to fear death. It is a reasonable fear.’

‘And yet I cannot afford to live in fear of it any more.’

He looked down at the dead monkey, and gently stroked its fur.

‘Death is only a dream, from which we awake in a more glorious place.’

I could not agree with him, and therefore I remained silent.

‘I know you well enough now, Rahotep, to see when you are not speaking your mind.’

‘Death is a subject I resist discussing.’

‘And yet your life’s work is the business of death.’

‘Perhaps, lord. But I have no love for it.’

‘I would imagine, having seen so much of it, you must find it somehow disappointing,’ he commented, accurately.

‘It is at once disappointing and remarkable. I look at corpses, which were a day before living, talking and laughing, committing their petty crimes and enjoying their love-affairs, and now what is left behind but an inert sack of blood and viscera? What has happened? My mind still blanks at the thought of the experience of being dead.’

‘We are alike, we both think too much,’ he said, and smiled.

‘It is worst in the small hours. I realize death is a day closer. I fear the death of those I love. I fear my own death. I think about the good I have not done, and the love I failed to cherish, and the time I have wasted. And when I have done with all that useless remorse, I think about death’s emptiness. Not to be here. Not to be anywhere at all…’

He said nothing for a moment. I wondered if I had gone too far. But then he clapped his hands and laughed.

‘What wonderful company you are, Rahotep! Such optimism, such cheerfulness…’

‘You are right, lord. I brood. My daughters tell me to cheer up.’

‘They are right to do so. But I am concerned. I hear no word of faith in the Gods in what you say.’

I paused before replying, for suddenly the ground of our conversation felt thin as papyrus.

‘I struggle with my faith. And I struggle to believe. Perhaps that is my personal way of being afraid. Faith tells us that in spirit we never die. But I find, try as I might, I cannot yet believe that story.’

‘Life itself is holy, Rahotep. The rest is mystery.’

‘Indeed, lord. And sometimes, as I lie there thinking my futile thoughts, the light steals up on me; dawn comes, and the children awake, and outside the street fills up with people and activity, as it does in every street, all through the city, as in every city in the land. And I remember there is work to be done. And I get up.’

He said nothing for a moment.

‘You are right. Duty is everything. And there is great work to be accomplished. Everything that has happened recently has only encouraged me in my absolute determination to fulfil my kingship, in the line of my great ancestors. When we return to Thebes, I will establish a new order. The rule of darkness will be abolished. It is time to bring light and hope to the Two Lands, in the glorious names of the Kings of my dynasty.’

I bowed my head again at these brave words. And I let myself wonder how the world would be if, perhaps, after all, the light could conquer the shadows.

He poured two goblets of wine, passed me one, and offered a stool to sit with him.

‘I understand who has reason to wish me dead. Horemheb is ambitious for power. He sees me merely as an impediment to his own dynasty. And Ay will oppose the new order, because it denies him his authority. But Ankhesenamun and I will deal with him accordingly.’

‘The Queen is a great asset,’ I said.

‘She has a mind for strategy, and I for appearance. It is a fortunate combination. And we trust each other. We have depended on each other since we were children, at first from necessity, but that quickly grew into mutual admiration.’

He paused.

‘Tell me about your family, Rahotep.’

‘I have three glorious girls, and a young son, thanks to the grace of my wife.’

He nodded.

‘You are indeed fortunate. Ankhesenamun and I have not yet achieved that, and it is imperative we raise children to succeed us. Twice we have failed, for the infants were stillborn. Girls, they told me. Their deaths had a grave effect upon us. It made my wife feel…blighted.’

‘But you are both young. There is time.’

‘You are right-there is time. Time is on our side.’

Neither of us spoke for a moment. The faint light from the brazier played across the tent walls. Suddenly I felt tired.

‘I will sleep outside your tent tonight,’ I said.

He shook his head.

‘That’s unnecessary. I will no longer be afraid of the dark. And tomorrow we will hunt again, and perhaps fortune will bring us what we seek: a lion.’

I stood, and bowed my head. I was about to step back, and out of the tent, when he unexpectedly spoke again.

‘Rahotep. When we return to Thebes, I wish you to become my personal bodyguard.’

I was astonished into silence.

‘I am honoured, lord. But surely Simut has that position.’

‘I wish to appoint someone who will concentrate on my security to the exclusion of all else. I can trust you, Rahotep; I am sure of it. You are a man of honour and dignity. My wife and I need you.’

I must have looked disconcerted, for he continued:

‘It will be a generously rewarded position. I am sure your family would benefit. And you would not have to consider your career prospects in the city Medjay again.’

‘You do me too great an honour. May we discuss this again when we return to Thebes?’

‘Yes. But do not refuse me.’

‘Life, prosperity and health, lord.’

He nodded, and I bowed and stepped backwards. But before I left the tent he called to me:

‘I enjoy talking to you, Rahotep. As much as I have enjoyed talking to any man.’

Outside, I looked up at the moon, and thought about the oddness of fate; of the disparate things that had brought me to this place, this wilderness, and this moment. And I realized that, despite everything, I was smiling. Not just at the strangeness of my audiences with the most powerful man in the world, who was still something of a child; but at the unpredictability of fortune, or luck, that now offered me what it had seemed I would never achieve. Preferment. And I indulged myself in a rare, delicious sensation: the thought of triumph over that clod of authority, Nebamun. I would enjoy watching his rage when I told him that I no longer needed anything from him.