An Evil Spirit Out of the West (Ancient Egyptian Mysteries) (54 page)

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Authors: Paul Doherty

BOOK: An Evil Spirit Out of the West (Ancient Egyptian Mysteries)
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On one thing they were all agreed. ‘Nefertiti will never be accepted. She can call herself what she likes,’ Horemheb snarled over a goblet of wine. ‘Smenkhkare-Ankhkeperure! She can proclaim herself to be the Divine Daughter, or even the Son of Horus, but she does not have the Tuthmosid blood in her veins. She is not of the royal line. She and Akhenaten are twin symptoms of the same disease. The army I command will tolerate her for a while and whatever sweet noises she makes to them or the great ones of Thebes but, in the end, she must step down.’
Ay accepted this with equanimity or, at least, appeared to do so. In the first month of the summer season he brought messages to us all, the children of the Kap, that an important meeting of the Royal Circle had been called in the Great Palace of the Aten. He made it clear that all were expected to attend.
I offered my house to Horemheb, Rameses, Maya and Huy, and organised my cooks to prepare a sumptuous meal. I did this at the request of Ay whom I called ‘my guest of honour’. The chefs surpassed themselves, but the meal was eaten in silence. We were all apprehensive of what would happen the next day. Horemheb and Rameses had brought their own retinues, encamped down near the quayside, whilst Maya and Huy had been accompanied on their river journey by two bargeloads of mercenaries. Ay arrived late, face unshaven, dressed in simple robes covered by a dark cloak. I heard the clink of armour as his mercenaries camped outside in the garden. The Viper, all agitated, refused the garland of honour but asked me to shutter the windows and close the doors. We gathered round him. For a while Ay just sat on the cushions, face in his hands and, when he took his fingers away, his cheeks were wet with tears.
‘The Royal Circle,’ he sobbed and rubbed his face as he tried to control his feelings. ‘Tomorrow morning you must not attend the meeting of the Royal Circle. You know the protocol. No one is allowed to carry weapons or bring armed followers to the sacred precincts.’
‘What?’ Rameses rose at a half-crouch.
‘My daughter, Great Queen Nefertiti,’ Ay wetted his lips, ‘has planned your deaths.’
His announcement was met with shocked silence.
‘You have proof?’ Huy murmured.
Ay dug inside his robe and brought out a small scroll of papyrus. ‘You know,’ he added wearily, ‘how she has ordered that Khiya’s name be erased from every monument: even the lady’s tomb is to be ransacked and vilified. She plans to make a clean sweep.’
‘How do you know this?’ Horemheb demanded, clutching Rameses’ shoulder and forcing him to sit down.
Ay rubbed his face. ‘Because she thinks I am her ally. She claims she has the support of Meryre, Tutu and the rest. Above all, the total unswerving loyalty of Manetho and his mercenaries. The council chambers will be locked and guarded. Certain of the Royal Circle, including you, have been marked down for death: to drink poison or lose your heads.’
I snatched up the scroll. ‘It bears the names of those who are going to die,’ Ay explained.
I unrolled the papyrus. I am not too sure if the others heard my groan. All I knew was a deep sense of anguish, a numbing coldness followed by an urge to scream and yell. The names were all listed: Horemheb, Rameses, Maya, Huy, Pentju, Prince Tutankhaten, Sobeck, Djarka and a host of others. What caught my throat like a cold hard hand was that my name headed the rest.
‘She revealed this to me two days ago,’ Ay explained. ‘She intends, as she puts it, to make a clean sweep. She will depict you as the real supporters of Akhenaten then move back in glory with her eldest daughter Meritaten to the Malkata Palace at Thebes. The Aten will become one god amongst many. The city here will be allowed to rot whilst the worship of Amun is restored.’
‘Why?’ I asked. ‘Why are you betraying your own daughter?’
‘Very simple, Mahu. Because she is betraying Egypt. Oh yes, you can all die but ask Horemheb here – within a month, there will be civil war.’
‘I’ll kill the bitch!’ Rameses snarled, picking up a knife from the table.
Again Horemheb forced him to sit down, ordering him to keep silent.
‘What do you propose, God’s Father Ay?’ Maya demanded.
‘What he thinks is no longer important,’ Horemheb declared quietly. ‘You have soldiers, my lord Ay? So do we. Mahu has his mercenaries. Our troops camp down at the riverside.’ He rose to his feet and walked to a window. ‘Tonight Manetho and his gang will be disarmed. The Lady Meritaten must be put under arrest. She is guilty, my lord Ay?’
God’s Father Ay nodded, biting back a sob.
‘The Lady Meritaten will be invited to take poison,’ Horemheb continued.
No one disagreed. A short discussion took place about Meryre and Tutu. It was agreed they’d be given the chance to purge themselves.
‘And the Lady Nefertiti?’ I asked. I was on the verge of tears. All I could think of was that beautiful face – blue eyes glinting with mischief, red hair falling down, her soft touch and sweet words.
‘She must be confronted with her crimes,’ Huy declared.
‘She must take the poison,’ Maya finished the sentence.
I felt so chilled I started to shiver. Ay was staring at me quizzically but Horemheb came over, picked up a shawl and wrapped it round my shoulders.
‘Are you in agreement, God’s Father?’ I asked.
‘Are we all in agreement?’ Ay replied.
One by one their hands went up; they all sat looking at me.
‘I am sacrificing a daughter and a grand-daughter,’ Ay whispered hoarsely. ‘Those who are not with us are against us. Mahu, what is your answer?’
I was going to refuse but my eye caught that list lying on the table, my name emblazoned on the top, and beneath it Djarka’s, Sobeck’s and Prince Tutankhaten’s. Slowly my hand went up. Horemheb crossed to his belongings and brought back knuckle-bones, clearing the table with one sweep of his hands.
‘We will throw,’ he declared. ‘That’s what we used to do when we were children of the Kap.’
We each threw the knuckle-bones. My score was lowest. They all looked at me grimly.
‘You are the one,’ Horemheb declared, ‘to give her the poison!’
I clutched the knuckle-bones in my hand so tightly they bit into the softness of my palm. Rameses served some wine and we moved onto other business, the deployment of troops and what would occur afterwards.
‘It shall be proclaimed,’ Ay now assumed responsibility, ‘that Akhenaten, Nefertiti and Lady Meritaten have gone into the West. The vision of the Aten was built on sand and not meant to last. We shall return to Thebes and bring with us the glory of Amun. We shall send messages to every corner of the Kingdom of the Two Lands that the might and power of Egypt has been restored. We will make the People of the Nine Bows tremble under our feet.’
‘And you will be Pharaoh, God’s Father Ay?’ I asked.
‘Prince Tutankhaten will be proclaimed as the legitimate successor to his father,’ Ay replied quickly, ‘betrothed to the Princess Ankhespaaten, but their names will proclaim the changes which will affect all Egypt. From this day forward they will be known as Tutankhamun and Ankhesenamun. However,’ he added dryly, his eyes never leaving mine, ‘both children are unversed in statecraft. Until the Prince reaches maturity, all power will be vested in a Council of State. Everyone here will be a vital member …’
In that chamber with the oil lamps guttering, the shadows dancing against the walls and the food growing cold whilst the wine-cups were refilled, all the glory of Akhenaten, all the splendour of Nefertiti crumbled to dust. Each of us took the sacred oath, hand on heart, the other stretched out to swear what we were party to. Eventually they all left. I just sat and drank while the memories poured back. I fell asleep, half-listening to the sounds of chariots and armed men moving in the streets below. Rameses kicked me awake just before dawn. He grinned down at me and pushed a small carob-seed loaf into my hand. He made me eat that and drink the cold beer he had brought. Then I washed my face, put a robe around me and followed him out into the streets.
Horemheb and Rameses had planned well. Regular troops, together with mercenaries, now controlled the roads and avenues, the entrance to every public building, temple and palace. Martial law had been declared. All citizens, on pain of death, were confined to their homes. Only the occasional scavenging dog would nose at a stiffening corpse of one of Manetho’s mercenaries or lick the drying pools of blood. The palace, too, was deserted. Horemheb and Rameses’ officers guarded the entrances and patrolled the grounds. I passed a courtyard where executions had been carried out. Manetho’s head was already impaled on a pole. Other heads lay about whilst corpses were being heaped in corners before being thrown into carts. This included not only Manetho’s mercenaries but also courtiers, scribes, officials and, from what Rameses had told me, even a few ladies-in-waiting who had tried to resist. Inside the palace corpses were also being dragged out of rooms. As we crossed a garden Ay’s mercenaries were organising prisoners, pushing and shoving them up against the wall. The line of men, naked except for their loincloths, were beaten and abused. A name would be called, one of the men dragged forward and forced to kneel. I looked away but I still heard the hiss of the axe or club, a scream of pain and the thud of the falling head or corpse.
Nefertiti was waiting for me in a small chamber. She was sitting in the centre on a pile of cushions dressed in a simple white gown. In the corner a lady-in-waiting huddled, face in hands, sobbing noisily. Just before I entered the chamber Maya handed me a gold-encrusted cup. He glanced at me sadly.
‘I know what you feel, Mahu, but the poison is quick. Meritaten has gone before her.’
I asked for the girl to be removed and knelt down before Nefertiti, clutching the goblet in my hand. Oh, they will tell you how she had aged, how her face was lined, her body fat, how she had shaven her hair to appear more like a man. I can’t remember any of that. I sat facing the Beautiful One who had knelt beside me in a fragrant orchard, whose face constantly haunted my dreams, and still does. She was at peace, her blue eyes calm, slightly red-rimmed from crying.
‘Mahu.’ My name came in a whisper. ‘Mahu, I know why you are here. The soothsayer told me, remember? How I would die at the hands of a friend?’
I couldn’t move. I grasped the cup and tried to move forward, but all I could do was stare into her eyes and feel the hideous pain in my heart. There was a brazier glowing but I felt as cold as death.
‘Mahu,’ she smiled slightly, ‘at least I am dying in the presence of a friend.’
‘Akhenaten,’ I replied, ‘my lady, where is Akhenaten?’
‘Mahu, I do not know.’ The smile widened. ‘And even if I did, I would not tell you or,’ her glance fell away, ‘or the other hyenas.’
Before I could stop her she snatched the cup from my hand, toasted me quickly and drained it. I watched some of the purple drops course down her chin along that lovely neck. She let out a long sigh and threw the cup to one side.
‘
Senebti
– farewell, Mahu!’
She sat for a while, head down; when she glanced up her eyes were full of tears. She began to shiver.
‘Mahu, please, don’t let me die alone.’
I grasped her outstretched hand and pulled her close. Her trembling grew, her body shaking so I clasped her in my arms and pressed her head down onto my shoulder.
‘Why?’ I whispered. ‘Why my name … ?’
She pulled her head back. ‘I did not draw up any list,’ she gasped. ‘And even if I had, your name would not have been on it.’ She went to pull away, but I pulled her back. I couldn’t say anything. I just waited for the trembling to stop.
She gasped once or twice, coughed as if clearing her throat, then she fell slack. I gently disengaged. I was glad her eyes were closed, the white face more youthful in death. I carefully laid her back on the cushions, rose and knocked the cup away. I opened the door of the chamber. Ay and the children of the Kap stood in a semi-circle facing me.
‘She has gone,’ I declared.
I kicked the door shut behind me. ‘It is finished!’

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