The King's Man (24 page)

“Thank you. I am aware of Nebenkempt’s value and his future connection to your brother Heby’s family as the father of Amunhotep-Huy’s proposed wife Henut-nofret.” Mutemwia leaned forward and put a hand briefly on his knee. “Your assessment is of great value and we will consider your advice. Now we will speak of the King’s marriage contract with Tiye.”

Amunhotep groaned. “Must we do so now, Mother? Uncle Huy looks exhausted and my head is beginning to ache. The Mitanni ambassador is doubtless an important man, but his general conversation is boring, and apart from his vast thirst for the sermet beer our women love, he is uninteresting. I’ve taken in every one of Huy’s words and tomorrow you and I will go over them. Let me play sennet with Nubti and then go to my couch. For once I am actually weary before the horns sound midnight.”

Mutemwia ignored him. “I want you to take control of her education and well-being, Huy, as you did for my son. Examine her tutors for their suitability to teach a Queen. Add whatever subjects to her schooling you deem necessary. I thank the gods that Yuya was enlightened enough to allow her to study with her brothers. Talk to her servants and dismiss any whom you do not like. She is to have no scribe of her own. If she wishes to dictate, she must use one of the harem scribes and her letters must be turned over to you for reading. Confer with Userhet regarding her care. He is young but a talented Overseer of the King’s Harem. Tiye’s mother is a student of all forms of protocol and is of course sharing an apartment with her daughter. She has many titles. Her voice is remarkable. She is Chief of the Entertainers of Amun and Singer of Hathor, among other things. She was raised in the King’s Harem and will be quite at home there. Get to know her.”

Amunhotep grunted. “King’s Harem! The women in there belonged to my father, including Neferatiri and my bothersome sister Iaret. She’s been sulking ever since word of my contract with Tiye was announced. I told her I’d make her my second wife, but she swore at me and then told me that as she has royal blood in her veins unlike that Mitanni upstart Tiye, she would be Chief Wife no matter when I married her.” He grinned wryly. “There’s no spite like a woman’s spite. I have no desire to go anywhere near the harem.”

For the first time that night Mutemwia laughed, but she quickly sobered again. “I warned you that Tiye’s foreign blood would cause trouble,” she said to Huy. “My fear is that Iaret will attempt to force a marriage with the King’s blood-uncle Prince Amunhotep and then do her best to foment a war. Watch her carefully, Huy. The Prince has retired to his estates as he wanted to do, but his visitors must be noted and his correspondence opened.”

So the old fear is still alive in you
, Huy thought.
Perhaps in both of you. I understand now why I am not permitted to go south for Anhur, but I resent it just the same
. He stood and bowed, feeling stiff. He was still very thirsty. “I am Your Majesty’s loyal servant,” he said to Amunhotep. Then, turning to Mutemwia, he inclined his head. “I will do my best to comply with all this, but you have placed a heavy responsibility on my shoulders.”

“I’ve only just begun to make use of you, my dearest brother.” She came up to him and, rising on tiptoe, kissed him on both cheeks.

I gave up the right to order my life as I chose
, he thought as the silver vultures decorating her brow touched him as briefly as her soft lips.
She calls me brother, the most affectionate term used between lovers. Does she see me as a man, then, in spite of the restriction the god has placed upon me, although she knows about it? Or is she clumsily throwing me a crumb of sweetness after loading me with so many tasks? I do not think so. When I examine our history together, I see only a warm companionship restricted solely by the difference in our stations
.

“Seneb will examine you tomorrow morning,” she told him. “Go now. Take your poppy. I shall see you in the Office of Foreign Correspondence after the King’s hour of audience.”

Huy did not bow again. Nubti was already holding open one of the high double doors. With Paneb behind him, Huy bade the steward a good night and passed through.

Out in the passage, Perti and his guards assembled quickly.
She has left her perfume on my skin
, Huy thought as they set off on the short walk to his apartments.
Lotus for nobility, Narcissus for simplicity, Henna for beauty. Gods, I’m tired!
In his bedchamber, Tetiankh waited with warm water to wash the paint from his face and opium to ease him into sleep, but Huy did not sleep. Mutemwia’s instructions became little more than noise in his head as Anhur took form in his mind’s eye, his big hand resting on the hilt of his sword, a smile of greeting lighting his face. Towards dawn Huy at last fell into an uneasy sleep, but sorrow and nostalgia imbued his dreams and he was glad to wake just as the sun lipped the eastern horizon.

Physician Seneb was waiting to assess the state of his health before he had even eaten the meal Tetiankh set beside him, and Huy succumbed to the man’s poking and prying while the bread cooled and the fresh, almost scentless aroma of the fruit piled on Huy’s dish made his mouth water. At last Seneb stood away from the couch. “Great Seer, your muscles are full of tension even though you are only just awake. You must take a massage every evening before you sleep, and continue to observe one day of fasting a week. Is the amount of poppy I have allowed you each day enough?” Tetiankh cast the man a sour look and slammed the lid of the chest from which he had lifted Huy’s clean loincloth and kilt.

“I suppose so,” Huy admitted slowly. “My appetite for the drug seems to wax and wane depending on the difficulty of the tasks before me, and I’ve Seen for no one lately.”

“If you need more, your body servant must come to me. You must find the time to exercise, Master. You have a remarkably youthful body, but it needs care. Swim, practise with your bow, take out a chariot—do something. Now please dismiss me.”

Huy thought his request for dismissal ridiculous seeing that he himself was given no choice as to whether or not he wanted to consult the man, but he nodded, and Seneb bowed and went away.

He walked to the bathhouse and had Tetiankh quickly wash and oil him. The King would be beginning his daily audience soon, and Huy wanted to use the time to dictate a letter to his old friend, the priest Methen. Paneb and Ba-en-Ra were waiting for him when he returned. Huy sat before his cosmetics table, and Tetiankh braided his hair and kohled his eyes while he spoke to them. “Go to the Ladies Thuyu and Tiye in the harem and tell them I’ll meet them this evening,” he ordered his Chief Herald. “Ask Tiye whether she wants me to go to her or if she would prefer to come here. Find me wherever I am and give me her answer. Paneb, take a dictation.”

As the body servant’s capable hands smoothed and wound his perfumed tresses into a thick plait, Huy talked to Methen through Paneb’s swift brush.
I had no time to spend with him as we passed Hut-herib. I have no time for Heby, living so close to me here in Mennofer. Ishat’s children are becoming strangers. My letters to Merenra, in charge of the estate, are limited to inquiries regarding the need for gold and the well-being of the few servants left there. I have not asked whether my parents’ home is occupied and being properly tended. I am desperately trying to cling to everyone dear to me while the past gradually slips away. How long will it be before nothing remains but formality?

He arrived at the Office of Foreign Correspondence just as the King and his mother were being seated. Amunhotep greeted him cheerfully. “Good news from Weset, Uncle Huy. Kha and the twins are at work already. The Berseh and Tura mines have already been reopened for repair, and Kha sent me the plans for the changes and additions I want at Ipet-isut, including a new shrine for Amun’s barque. Demolition has begun on my father’s sandstone court. Hori wants to tear down the little temple to Amun in the Southern Ipet and begin something much more grand. I’ve given him the permission he needs. Treasurer Nakht-sobek will protest, but since I now know exactly how rich I am, I shan’t care.” He turned to May, waiting politely to begin the business of the day. “Give the Seer the diplomatic letters to read to us. Paneb, this is not for you to take down.”

Huy’s scribe bowed and went to stand in the doorway through which a ray of mid-morning sunlight was streaming brightly golden. May’s scribe settled onto the floor near Huy. May passed Huy one of the clay tablets from the small mountain on his desk. Mutemwia began to smile. Out of the corner of his eye, Huy could see her red-hennaed mouth curve upward as he bent over the now-familiar script.

To my brother the great King Ka-nakht Kha-em-ma’at I prostrate myself seventy times seven in profound gratitude for the quantity of gold you sent to me. May you reign for millions of years. Ask what you will of me and I shall comply. I beg Your Majesty to send more gold so that I may better equip my soldiers who patrol the border against the barbarous Kheta to the north. Know that the ruler of the Kheta who sits in the city of Hattusas does not love Egypt as I do. If he asks of you, send him no gold. I eagerly await a word from your august lips. Artatama, Supreme King and Chieftain of Mitanni.

Amunhotep laughed as Huy fell silent. “What a sly old fox he is! He pressures us to remember how kind he was to my uncle Prince Amunhotep and he thinks that in warning us against the Kheta we will tremble in our sandals! Well does he call me Strong Bull, Appearing in Truth! The Kheta are no threat to the might of Egypt!”

“Not yet,” Mutemwia agreed, “and we are certainly not going to send Artatama more gold. However, I have pondered your suggestion regarding the petty tribes infesting the Bend of Naharin, Huy, and there’s much sense in it. Arrange introductory letters to their chiefs, and whatever gifts you think appropriate. What else, May? Give the tablets to Huy.”

In the afternoon, Huy retreated to his apartments. He knew that he had acquitted himself well in the Office of Foreign Correspondence. He was becoming increasingly aware of the size and scope of Egypt’s holdings outside her borders, and of her often convoluted dealings with other independent nations. He supposed that the King’s early education had included such important matters. Amunhotep was certainly familiar with the situation surrounding each missive Huy had read aloud. Indeed, His Majesty knew more about the history and culture of such far-flung countries as Arzawa, away to the northwest, or Assur, straddling the eastern arm of the two great rivers sheltering the Bend of Naharin, than he knew about the border defences of his own dominion. Huy was surprised at Mutemwia’s ignorance of the situation governing Egypt’s borders, and wondered if his nephew was at fault. Had his reports as Scribe of Recruits not been clear and succinct enough? No matter. The Queen would quickly remedy her lack. Before he took to his couch for the customary sleep, Huy heard from Ba-en-Ra. Tiye and her mother would attend Huy in his reception room after the last meal of the day.

They arrived accompanied by Userhet, the Overseer of the King’s Harem, as well as an impossibly handsome young man hugging a large cedar box and introduced as Thuyu’s cosmetician, two female body servants carrying cloaks and spare sandals, two scribes, and a crowd of harem guards. Respectfully but firmly, Amunmose shut them all out in the passage but for the two aristocratic women, their female attendants, and one scribe. Huy would have liked to ban Tiye’s monkey also, a tiny, white-faced creature perched on her shoulder and clinging to her hair with one fist while scratching its genitals with the other. It bared its pointed teeth in a rictus of obvious dislike at Huy as he performed a deep obeisance and indicated three gilt chairs set around his inlaid ivory and silver table. Amunmose and Paroi were swiftly and unobtrusively setting a choice of wines, nuts, and fruit on its gleaming surface. The monkey immediately used Tiye’s hair to swing onto the table, and snatched up a handful of the precious almonds. Tiye pried them away from it, all but one. The monkey promptly palmed the nut into its mouth.

Thuyu had seated herself gracefully—straight-backed, feet together, hands folded decorously in her white lap. “I am told that the House of Yuya owes its latest elevation to you, Great Seer Amunhotep,” she said, thus giving Huy, as her social inferior, permission to speak. “Please sit and tell me about it.” She was smiling, her immaculately kohled eyes with their blue-tinted lids warmly inviting. Her dark wig with its dozens of long braids had not a hair out of place. Delicate necklaces of small bevelled gold hoops were strung around her tall neck, each circle hung with a golden likeness of either the goddess Hathor with her sweetly curving cow’s horns or Min the lettuce-eater, a type of Amun who once a year became a god of orgiastic licentiousness.

Of course
, Huy thought in the moment before he answered her.
She is not only Chief Singer of Amun but Chief Singer of Hathor also. She presides over the music of Min’s primary temple at Ipu and that of Amun at Ipet-isut as well. This is a very intelligent and influential woman
. He took the remaining chair. “Please call me Huy,” he replied. “I’m sure that your daughter has related the details of her Seeing to you, noble one. Because of the vision, I was pleased to recommend a marriage contract for her with His Majesty. She is now Great Royal Wife, and will of course be fully a Queen when Amunhotep reaches his majority.” The King’s name had come easily and unconsciously to his tongue. A brief expression of pain crossed Thuyu’s face but was instantly repressed. She had noted his glance.

“Forgive me, Seer Huy,” she said. “Even my husband Yuya, Prince of Ipu, is not permitted to address the King with such familiarity. I should have remembered that your long and very close relationship with His Majesty has given you such a privilege.” There was no animosity in her expression. Her gaze moved to the table. At once Amunmose stepped forward. “You have irep nefer nefer,” she said. It was not a question. “Pour me a cup. Tiye, would you like wine?” The girl nodded.

Irep nefer nefer, very good wine, was one grade below the very best vintage to be had. Huy, not wanting to boast, kept silent as the dark red liquid cascaded into two cups. Thuyu thanked the steward, lifted her cup, and sipped at its contents daintily.