The King's Man (42 page)

“I don’t know. I’m not sure.” He leaned back and signalled to Kenofer. “Find out from Paroi whether Rakhaka has stored any lotus petals steeped in red wine, and if he has, bring us enough for one cup each,” he ordered. His attention returned to Nasha. “Break your rule for once,” he said wryly. “The infusion of lotus will make us both very happy.”

Her kohled eyebrows rose. “Your permission is my excuse, mer kat, but pouring good wine down your throat is a waste.”

“The wine’s a waste, but the wine-soaked lotus petals are not. Added to my nightly dose of poppy, they might give me a sound sleep for once.”

Paroi, Huy’s under steward, had obviously been preparing for bed when Kenofer approached him. With freshly cleansed face and bare feet, he served them himself before padding back to his own quarters. Huy and Nasha sat on, talking with the ease of long aquaintance. Both avoided the subject of Egypt’s baby Prince. By the time Nasha stuck a finger into her goblet and tried to extract the limp and saturated lotus petals remaining, she was giggling at nothing. Huy, mildly stimulated, took it firmly from her. “If you suck them, they’ll be bitter,” he told her. “Go to bed, Nasha, and get a massage in the morning. You’ll need it.”

Obediently she gathered up the folds of her yellow sheath, kissed him on the cheek, and unsteadily made her way across the shadowed room. Her door opened and closed behind her. Huy was alone. Getting up, he retraced his steps through the house, and emerging into his garden he walked a short way across the grass. The sod was damp through the labour of his gardeners. The noise of the city had been reduced to a constant drone. If he listened carefully Huy could separate the various sources of the sound, but he had no interest in the daily life of Weset, or in its nightly pursuits either.

He lifted his face to the breeze and closed his eyes.
It’s coming out of the west, Isis’s wind, flowing over the City of the Dead, stirring the growth on the banks of the river and finding me here in the safety of my own domain. Isis, faithful wife, loving mother, surely there is pity in your tender heart for me, for my young King, for the tiny scrap of irreplaceable life just born!
In the deeper darkness of his high defensive wall a guard coughed briefly, and with a sigh Huy swung back into the house.
There are six days left before the seven Hathors make their pronouncements, and I could be summoned to See for the child on any one of them. There is no time to hurry to Mennofer and return, but I simply must travel to Ptah’s temple as soon as possible. The answer to every riddle I’ve pondered lies there—I’m sure of it. I’ll See for the Prince, but I won’t speak of the vision. Not yet. Tiye won’t understand, but the King will. The Book of Thoth comes first
.

The astrologers wasted no time in proclaiming that the boy should be called Amunhotep, and long before the six days were over Huy received an official summons from the King to look into the baby’s future. Amunhotep seldom issued orders to his mer kat anymore, so Huy knew that he must obey at once. Speaking briefly to Nasha, Amunmose, and Paroi, who were discussing household affairs, he took Paneb and Perti with a contingent of soldiers and was carried to the palace.

It was the seventeenth day of Phamenoth, the morning air hot and still. Everywhere along the river, Huy knew, the farmers and their peasants would be out in the fields inspecting the barley, precious flax, emmer, and hemp for signs of ripening. Later in the season the fat purple and green grapes would be plucked, the marshes of the Delta combed of the reeds and rushes that offered a hundred uses, the clover cut yet again to make semu. Huy, tense with apprehension, allowed his imagination to feed him with memories of great piles of the plant waiting to be bound for forage, the almost unbearable gusts of fragrance the acres of his uncle’s flowers exuded as he walked past them on his way to Hut-herib, the tang of crushed mint from his mother’s herb garden. Here in the south the odours of growing things were more ephemeral, quickly thinned and then dispersed by the desert winds.
I’m homesick for my youth. I want to be waiting by the orchard hedge for Ishat to appear, with our house behind me and Father away at work among Ker’s glorious perfume blooms and Mother on her knees by the tiny pool, weeding her cabbages and melons and humming to herself
.

His litter had emerged from the poppy fields and onto the public path that ran beside the river and into the city. Huy pulled the curtains more tightly closed. Perti began to call the usual warning: “Make way! Make way for the King’s mer kat!” Sounds drifted past Huy—snatches of conversation, the soft thud of a donkey’s hoofs on the sandy track, the laughter of a group of children running past.
I’d give all my wealth to be somewhere else in another time, to be free
, his thoughts ran on.
Terror is looming in the nursery of the palace, invisible evil waiting for me to give it the power of form. I know it. After my moment of cowardice before the Horus Throne and the Osiris-one, our King’s father, Atum was merciful. There would be another chance to right the wrong I had done. Today that chance will at last be offered, and I am deathly afraid of the things the god will show me, in what dreadful manner I will be required to rectify both my weakness and the conceit in which I interpreted the vision of Tiye to suit my own vanity
.

He heard his escort challenged, felt his bearers step onto more solid ground, and soon he was being set down. Perti opened his curtains and held out an arm for assistance. Huy glanced up at him as he left the litter and stood straight.
You refused Wesersatet’s offer of promotion within the ranks of the royal Division of Amun for my sake. You are no longer the talented young soldier in whom I placed my safety, yet you still command my guards, and now you control the vast web of spies you and I placed throughout Egypt and beyond when I first became mer kat. I am as loyal to you as you are to me, and the King sleeps more peacefully because of you
.

“Mer kat? Master?” Perti said quietly, and Huy came to himself.

“Let the bearers wait under the trees,” he said. “Bring all my escort with me, Perti. By now the palace guards understand that they may not be prevented from entering. Paneb, are you ready?” His scribe nodded, and surrounded by Perti and his soldiers they crossed the broad concourse and walked between the pillars into the cool spaciousness of Pharaoh’s reception hall. Few people were about, but their reserved conversations still echoed softly against the lofty star-spangled ceiling. They knelt in homage to Huy as he passed.

It took him and his men a long time to arrive at the tall guarded doors beyond which were the women’s quarters and the nurseries. Userhet rose from his stool and bowed. “His Majesty, the Empress, and Queen Mutemwia are waiting for you, mer kat. They are in the anteroom to Prince Amunhotep’s nursery, where there are refreshments for you. I am to assure you that His Highness fed well this morning and Royal Physician Seneb has pronounced him healthy.”

Huy nodded. “Let us in, then, and announce me.”

Userhet gestured at the guards, the heavy cedar doors swung open, and Huy and Paneb passed through. Huy did not particularly like small children or the harem. Its corridors were narrower than those in the main body of the palace. Many doorways fronted their lengths, the rooms beyond them each occupied by one of the King’s concubines or one of his foreign acquisitions. Huy was familiar with most of the foreign women. They had been acquired as part of various official agreements between the Horus Throne and its vassal states or those petty kingdoms greedy for gold, linen, and papyrus and wise enough not to challenge Egypt’s superior power. The alien princesses on the whole were arrogant and demanding, noisily claiming their royal rights over the King’s native women and threatening to send letters to their relatives complaining of their treatment in Egypt. Userhet occasionally consulted with Huy over some particularly delicate situation within the harem if it might endanger an advantageous treaty. Otherwise Huy stayed away from the shrieks of children and the nattering of the adult residents.

Leaving Perti and his guards outside the door, Huy waited to be admitted. Userhet knocked, and at once Nubti opened for Huy and Paneb. Beyond, in the rather cramped anteroom, Huy bowed respectfully from the waist, arms extended in worship. Paneb performed a full prostration.

“Rise, Scribe Paneb,” the King said immediately. He was smiling. So was Tiye, her eyes expectantly on Huy, her gold-ringed fingers wound about each other on her scarlet lap. She and the King were sitting close together, a table loaded with wine and sweetmeats in front of them. Amunhotep was cradling an ornate silver cup in both hands, a previous New Year’s gift from Yuya, Huy remembered, and by the slight glazing of his dark eyes as he slumped back in his chair Huy could see that he was drunk.

Your appetite for the grape is growing, my dear Emperor
, Huy thought as he approached them.
I can sympathize. By making me Egypt’s ruler, you’ve left yourself nothing to do but commune with Amun in his sanctuary on behalf of this country, flaunt our wealth and strength before ambassadors and foreign dignitaries, and pursue the delights of hunting and women, in both of which you excel. Your intelligence was obvious from the first day you arrived to stay with me on my estate outside Hut-herib. So was your wilfulness. I’m sad when I see the erosion of aptitude and self-discipline in you
.

He glanced at Mutemwia. She was not smiling, and her glance as it met Huy’s was sombre. Her chair had been placed a little apart from the others. She was leaning slightly away from the chair’s back, her spine straight, knees together under the drape of white linen falling to the floor. Her bare arms rested along the gilded arms of her seat, but they were not relaxed.
Your unflagging determination to see your son on the Horus Throne has brought you to this day, Mutemwia
, Huy’s thoughts ran on.
You decided that the vision that came upon me when he reached up and grasped my finger all those years ago was your turning point, a sign from the gods on which you built an entire destiny for your son and yourself. So did I. We grew as close as possible given my peasant blood, and I came to trust your knowledge and intuition. Instinct is warning you that this Seeing will be no happier than those I reluctantly gave to the rest of the King’s children, including the Hawk-in-the-Nest, Thothmes. You sense what I know and dread. The fate of Tiye’s little Prince will be more terrible than an early death
.

“Please don’t ask us to leave the room,” the King joked, still smiling. “You like to conduct the Seeings in privacy, with your scribe beside you, but I beg you, my Uncle, let us stay! My son lies through there.” He waved towards the open doorway on Huy’s right. “Userhet will place his stool between us and the nursery, and I promise you we will not make a sound.”

Huy considered briefly. He knew that Amunhotep could make the request a command. He also knew that he himself would be obeyed if he insisted on being alone with the Prince. Amunhotep had not outgrown the early training towards compliance and respect for Huy first instilled in him. He loved and trusted his adopted uncle, and Huy loved him back.
You’ve never been the problem, Emperor
, he said silently.
It’s the Empress who wishes to wrench the control of Egypt out of my hands
.

“I’m honoured to be given the choice, Majesty,” he answered. “I shall perform the Seeing perfectly well if you wish to remain where you are. The work may be long or short, I don’t know, but I do ask for silence.”

The King gestured sharply, a servant opened the outer door and summoned Userhet, and Huy turned towards the inner room. As he did so, a wave of desperation swept over him.
Poppy
, he thought.
Poppy poppy poppy. I hope Mutemwia has remembered that I’ll need it as soon as I’m finished
.

Two women and an older man went to the floor and then rose as he and Paneb walked quietly towards the crib. Huy, in spite of the apprehension that was filling him, exclaimed in delight. “Royal Nurse Heqarneheh! It makes me happy to see you still occupying the position you held when the King was a child! You’ve aged well.”

“So have you, Great Seer.” The two men embraced briefly. “I have three sons and a noisy household of my own just outside Weset. The eldest will inherit the title of Royal Nurse when I retire and is already learning his future duties as my assistant.”

“Those in his care will be fortunate indeed if he’s anything like his father.” Huy moved regretfully away. “I would like to spend an evening reminiscing over all the months we spent together during the King’s stay at my house.”

“So would I. I remember how much he enjoyed fishing with you and Anhur. How is the captain of your guard?”

“He died. I miss him a great deal, but his replacement has many of his qualities. I must travel north soon, but when I return you will feast with me.”

The women had been watching the conversation nervously, and as Heqarneheh left the room they hurried to follow him. Userhet was already half blocking the doorway. At last Huy turned to the crib.

The baby had been so quiet Huy assumed that he was asleep, and he was shocked to bend over the crib and see two solemn eyes looking up at him between a tuft of brown hair and a swaddle of spotless linen.
Most babies show excitement at the sudden appearance of an adult face above them. Their legs kick. Their arms wave. They gurgle and smile. But of course this royal offspring is too young to do more than stare up at me
. He heard Paneb settle onto the floor beside him. The palette rattled softly as the scribe began to assemble his tools. Prince Amunhotep did not even blink at the sound. He continued to regard Huy impassively.
Children of this age are incapable of displaying emotion
, Huy thought, annoyed with himself.
They sleep, they wake hungry and cry, they sleep again. I am imagining an indifference in this baby’s steady gaze
. Carefully he reached in and loosened the swaddling. He felt a strange disgust as the baby moved in response to his action, a reluctance to touch the child, something he simply must do if he wanted to See for him. After a short struggle a pair of thin arms appeared, the hands impossibly tiny to Huy, the fingers delicate and beautiful. Those light brown eyes remained fixed on Huy’s face as Huy offered one of his own fingers, expecting the baby’s fist to curl around it, but with a barely heard mew Prince Amunhotep turned his head away sharply and his hands flailed.
He knows
, Huy thought in shock,
but how can that be? How can he be afraid of me, this mindlessly animated piece of flesh?
Gently but firmly Huy imprisoned the baby’s forearm, his thumb and index finger curling around it. At once the child became still.