The City of Refuge: Book 1 of The Memphis Cycle (4 page)

VI Khebet

Khebet, which had named itself 'the Gateway of the East', had been no more than a village early in the reign of Tutankhamun some twenty-five years before. It had emerged into prominence two years after the abandonment of Akhet-Aten, and within five years had eclipsed the trade city of Sumneh, which lay to the south. Khebett had enjoyed active royal patronage during the reign of the next Pharaoh, Huy and its prominence had survived Huy's death. After a brief reign, Ay, taking up the reins of a disastrously depleted Egypt, had had enough to keep him occupied without worrying about the fate of a city that was too close to The Heretic's abandoned capital. He had left Khebet alone. Now, serving as the entryway for the trade coming into Egypt from the Arabian desert, the city was almost as large and as bustling as Asyut to the south, or Khemnu, to the north.

The city seemed just a little too bustling to Khonsu, as though Khebet wished to convince itself that it was as great and powerful a city as the others. He thought the city was awkwardly situated, with only a garrison of Nome army under the command of one of his officers keeping it from being attacked.

Perineb and two of his priests had accompanied Khonsu to Khebet after Lord Nebamun sent word that he was fatigued from the journey and would not join them. Their welcome at Mayor Huni's hands was all they could have expected of a prince entertaining visitors of equal rank. They were regaled with pomegranate wine, and cut fruit was brought to them, as well, resting upon cooled palm leaves in dishes of gold-washed bronze.

“Setting up quarrying operations in the Heretic's city?” Huni said, puzzled. “I hope you won't regret it!”

“We come at His Majesty's orders under the patronage of the temple of Ptah at Memphis,” Khonsu explained, one eye on Perineb who was gazing around at the rich appointments with a gathering, puzzled frown.

“You say His Grace the Second Prophet is in command of your expedition,” Huni said. “I would have enjoyed making his acquaintance.” His raised eyebrows made the unspoken question clear.

“Lord Nebamun is indisposed and unable to go ashore,” Perineb said.

“A poor sailor, I gather,” Huni remarked after a pause. “I hope he recovers. Will there be many with you?”

“A fair-sized group at first,” Perineb replied. “We are looking into reopening the quarry. We'll be setting up a full royal operation to oversee matters if possible. But that won't be for some time. Perhaps never, depending on the quality of the stone found.”

“How was this decided?” Huni demanded.

“His Majesty and his advisors made the decision,” Perineb replied. “That is all I know. Your Honor should be glad of the news.”

“It is good news,” Huni agreed after the most infinitesimal of pauses, leaving Khonsu in no doubt as to his true thoughts of the matter. “But the city itself...”

Perineb looked from Huni to Khonsu. “What of it?” he asked.

“Akhet-Aten is a dangerous place,” said Huni.

“'Dangerous'?” Perineb repeated with a touch of humor. Tuy and Seneb, the two priests behind him, traded glances.

“Yes, Your Reverence. Perhaps you are unaware that Akhet-Aten is unclean.”

“Unclean?” Perineb questioned, his eyebrows raised. “It has, after all, been unoccupied for a generation. Time and plenty for the dust and the vermin to make inroads.”

“It is evil!” Huni declared. “A place of ill omen, a hazard to all who go near it!”

Perineb smiled and sipped his wine. “I am surprised that Your Honor hasn't evacuated this city, in such a case. Surely it is wrong to endanger your citizens with so terrible a spiritual contagion as Akhet-Aten.”

“I speak of ghosts,” Huni began.

Perineb smiled and folded his hands before him. “I repeat my comment,” he said.

Khonsu, enjoying the exchange, sat back to watch.

“Well, naturally we—” Huni began. He cast a glance of dislike at Perineb, who was still sitting with modestly folded hands. “There are ways to protect oneself,” he said.

“Just so,” said Perineb. “And this expedition has its commission from Pharaoh. Surely, with a royal fiat and the blessing of the great god Ptah, whom I would certainly think a match for any ghost, we need not fear any trouble.”

Huni's expression was ugly before he veiled it. Behind Perineb, the priest Seneb gazed thoughtfully at Huni.

**   **   **

“'Spiritual contagion'?” said Hapu, the captain of the detachment of Nome army, later after Khonsu had left the Mayor. “Why, hardly a week passes without someone going to Akhet-Aten for several days! I haven't heard anything to make me think they were any the worse for it!” He shook his head. “We have all heard the stories, certainly, but those in the know seem to laugh at them!”

“Huni wasn't trying to make us laugh just now,” Khonsu said. He thought for a moment. “Tell me, Hapu. About those groups going to Akhet-Aten: you say they go frequently?”

“Yes, Commander.”

“Are they open about it?”

“They don't trumpet it from the hills, if that's what you mean,” Hapu replied. “But they aren't furtive, either.”

“I see,” Khonsu said, remembering what Nebamun had said the evening he had first come to Khemnu. The words caused the faint pricking of an idea. “Did one of those groups go recently?” he asked. “Say within the past two weeks?”

“It's possible,” Hapu said. His expression grew worried; he was new at his position. “I didn't keep track,” he added. “Was I supposed to? I can look into it for you.”

“You're doing fine,” Khonsu replied. “But you'd best make inquiries now and let me know what you find out. We'll be using Khebet as a central location for the delivery of our supplies; you can update me each week. Be as thorough as you can without being obvious.”

“Whatever you say, Commander,” Hapu said. “But I'll tell you this: Huni's jittery about something, and he has been for about a year.”

**   **   **

“You'll be camping this evening,” said Huni as he escorted Khonsu and his officers back to the ship. “If I or my people can assist you in any way, you need only call upon us.”

Khonsu bowed. He had parted from Hapu and rejoined the priestly party at the quays.

Perineb was gazing thoughtfully at a line of stones set into the wall abutting the docks. The closest bore a raised decoration, a languidly curving hand clasping a branch from an olive tree. Perineb's eyes widened and then narrowed, and he looked over at the mayor and Khonsu.

Khonsu eyed the block. “Where did that come from?” he asked.

Huni did not move by so much as an eyelash. “It was brought from The Accursed One's city, Excellency,” he said. “It is fine limestone, as you can see.”

Khonsu looked around at the gathering crowd of people.

“The city is under royal interdict,” Perineb pointed out. “All goods have reverted to Pharaoh.”

Huni's expression hardened.

Perineb folded his arms and gazed back at him.

Huni turned back to Khonsu. “What difference does it make whether His Majesty's limestone blocks are casing the walls of an accursed temple, or helping to strengthen the walls of our houses?” he asked.

“His Majesty feels that it would make a great difference,” Khonsu replied. “Any further plundering must stop at once.”

“Plundering?” the mayor repeated. Between the last echo of that word and the next sentence, Khonsu caught the flash of a calculating, resolute glance. There was no doubt at all that the man raised his voice to carry to the last rank of Khonsu's men. “I have seen things to make your blood run cold,” he said. “Who would wish to plunder in that city of evil spirits.”

**   **   **

Evil spirits.
The words fell into sudden, utter silence. Seneb had grown rigid while Perineb's eyes narrowed. The mayor went on to disclaim and offer voluble apologies as the apothecary handed over the medicines, but the damage had been done, and Khonsu knew the word would spread through all the ships in the space of a breath.

The men returned to the ships with furtive glances, muted voices, and hands clenched upon their protective charms.

Perineb directed a long, thoughtful gaze at Huni before boarding the ship.

**   **   **

“Drop anchor here,” Khonsu directed. “It is almost nightfall and we've much to do: we'll unload our smaller items and camp here tonight. We can send the ships on to Akhet-Aten and travel overland to the city tomorrow.”

Khonsu sensed the relaxation of tension around him, the furtive fingers touching amulets hanging at neck or wrist. It would be hard enough to set up operations in broad daylight in what his men already considered a city of evil spirits. To do so at night, with the men on edge from all the tales they had heard over the past day and during their journey southeast from Khemnu, would be almost impossible.

**   **   **

The curved hull of the quarter moon was sailing the dark, star-flecked river of the night sky as Khonsu's driver reined his team in beside the Second Prophet's. He looked away from the huddle of shadows before him, back to the northeast, toward a sharp-cut natural pass in the cliffs that seemed to form the hieroglyph for 'horizon'.

Lord Nebamun had been closeted with Perineb for some time upon their return, after which Nebamun sent Ptahemhat to Khonsu with the request that the commander harness and outfit two chariots and select an escort for him as he went to hunt ghosts in the northern approaches to Akhet-Aten.

The message had attracted everyone's immediate, appalled attention.

Khonsu, aware of the extremely nervous frame of mind of the force, decided on the spot that it would be best if
he
were among the ones to escort the Second Prophet. He had commanded that two chariots be made ready, checked the quivers of arrows strapped to the sides of both chariots himself, selected two drivers whose steadiness he trusted, and waited for His Grace.

Nebamun had come to him with a quiver of arrows slanting between his shoulder blades and bearing a serviceable, well-worn bow. He had stepped into the chariot, nodded to the men who were staring white-faced and wide-eyed at him, and drove south at a canter.

**   **   **

“They call those the Northern Sentinels,” Nebamun said beside him. “Akhenaten learned of them and resolved to come here and see them for himself. He brought his household here and camped on the bank, just south of them. He arose at sunrise and witnessed the sun disk's emergence through them in all its glory.

He selected this spot to construct his city.
'Akhet-Aten'
,
'Horizon of the Aten'
: and so he named it. Now they stand guarding the ruins of his city. They're so beautiful at sunrise.” He paused for the space of perhaps two heartbeats and added, “Or so I have been told. Come along: we follow this road.”

Khonsu's driver chirruped to his horses and urged them to a collected trot. The faint moonlight touched the broken outlines of the once-great city, rising to either side, crowding the roadway as they drew farther and farther south. His heartbeat quickened.

A shattered gateway opened on the left into a deserted courtyard. By the massive, flat-topped, pyramidal shapes that flanked the gateway, the ruins was some sort of temple. It seemed to be sprawled in the middle of a shadowed field of boulders that had been flung by a huge, careless hand.

His driver urged the team closer as Khonsu bent to look down at one of the oddly shaped stones. Two pecked, ruined eyes set above a close-lipped smile stared sightlessly up at him.

The driver recoiled with a gasp that set the horses to prancing. “Isis shield us!” he hissed. “He smiled at us! The accursed!”

“He wasn't accursed,” Nebamun said as he limbered his bow. “Only unfortunate, at the end.” His easy demeanor had communicated itself to his driver, who stood beside him with only the widened flash of his eyes to betray his nervousness. “We have nothing at all to fear from him, whoever else our foes may be. Come on: we'll drive through this gateway. This is where Hutor encountered his ghost. The ghost is about to encounter its nemesis.” He broke off as a silent white shape glided overhead. “There!” he cried. “What did I say? An owl! Did you see it?”

The relaxation of terror made Khonsu's driver begin to laugh a little too loudly. “An owl indeed!” he said. “Look: there it goes again!”

They all watched as the bird soared briefly, angled its wings, and sank out of sight beyond a wall.

“Your Grace said there were owls,” Nebamun's driver said.

Khonsu gazed uneasily around. Even in the moonlight he had an impression of gathering shadows divorced from any foolish tales of ghosts. The feeling flared as a low, sobbing cry arose from the compound before them, wavered in the night wind, and faded away into nothing. “This is a deathly place!” he breathed.

The grating ululation rose and fell, and rose again a cry of loneliness, hunger and despair, ending in terrible laughter, a keening that no human throat could make. Even as the thought formed in his mind, Khonsu caught a glimpse of a swift, furtive shadow moving at the edge of his vision, racing toward the darkness that seemed to pool at the corners of the courtyard.

He gripped the chariot rail with shaking hands and looked around to see the two drivers standing open-mouthed and wide-eyed, staring into the shadowed recesses of the courtyard.