For a few moments, the cobra hesitated. Ahhotep was so close that it could have struck at her throat, but the queen’s gaze remained steady.
The cobra stretched out on the flagstones, then darted down between them, like a bolt of lightning entering the ground. Where it had disappeared, the stone was burnt, and on it lay the royal cobra’s legacy: a gold uraeus which would be attached to the royal crown.
Ahhotep knelt down and picked it up reverently. Without fear, she continued on her way towards the furthermost part of the shrine, which the snake-goddess had guarded so vigilantly.
Despite the fire that had ravaged the temple, one of the stones was still intact, and it shone with a strange light, as though it were lit from the inside.
Ahhotep laid her hand upon the granite. The stone pivoted, revealing a hiding-place which contained an acacia-wood box. Inside it lay the White Crown of Upper Egypt.
After being purified in the sacred lake, Kamose meditated before one of the statues of Pharaoh Osiris, the symbol of the twofold nature of the royal office, which belonged both to this world and to the world beyond.
Then the young man went through the same ceremonies his father had, with one notable difference: whereas Seqen’s coronation had been kept secret for a long time, in order to prevent collaborators informing the emperor, that of his elder son would be celebrated openly and would mark a new stage in the liberation of Egypt.
As the new pharaoh had no wife, it was the Wife of God who must recognize in him the presence of Horus and Set, the two brothers who shared the universe and reigned, the first over Lower Egypt and the second over Upper Egypt. Indivisible and constantly in conflict, they could not be reconciled or appeased except within the symbolic person of Pharaoh, who alone was capable of forging solid bonds between the two gods and the Two Lands.
Ahhotep gave her son his coronation names: ‘Horus Who is Complete and Makes the Two Lands Bow the Knee’, ‘He Who Nurtures the Two Lands’, ‘He Who Restores That Which Endures’, ‘He Who Appears in Glory upon His Throne’, The Transformation of the Light Is Accomplished’.
At last his name, Kamose, had taken on its full meaning, ‘Power is born’. That power, the ka, was displayed in the fighting-bull, nourished by the strength of the moon-god.
‘May you make these names complete and may they guide you along the path to victory,’ proclaimed the queen, placing the White Crown with its uraeus upon the head of her son. ‘May your father’s spirit live in you and may his courage strengthen your arm.’
The Hyksos would never understand that Egyptian society was not made up solely of human beings, but consisted also of gods and ancestors, who were present in every facet of daily life. Apophis believed Seqen was dead, but he was wrong. Brought back to life by the rites and the words of knowledge, his radiant spirit travelled between the stars and the earth, and he lived on in the souls of those who remained faithful to him. Thanks to the power of the Word contained in the hieroglyphs, Ahhotep had made the invisible presence of her dead husband real and effective.
‘Mother, I would like …’
‘I know, Kamose. You would like to stay a while in the temple and enjoy its inexpressible peace. But Egypt’s peace has not yet been won, and you will have to fight unceasingly to conquer it and give it to our people.’
All trace of hesitation had vanished from the young king’s eyes. Pharaoh Kamose went out of the Temple of Amon, that realm of light where war, evil and injustice did not exist. After experiencing unimaginable happiness, he must now confront Apophis and try to re-establish the Rule of Ma’at.
Both soldiers and civilians were gathered in front of the temple to hail their new pharaoh. When he appeared, the White Crown shone so brightly that it dazzled them.
Queen Ahhotep presented her son with the sacred curved bronze sword, covered with silver and inlaid with an alloy of gold and silver; its hilt was decorated with a golden lotus, the symbol of the rebirth of the divine sun at the end of its nightly ordeals.
‘As your father did before you, receive the Sword of Amon, with which you will rend the darkness asunder. May you, Pharaoh Kamose, overthrow its empire and be victorious in the war of the Crowns.’
* The royal title, nekhbet, derives from the goddess’s name, Nekhbet.
15
By the light of an exquisite lamp dating from the days of Pharaoh Menuhotep II, Apophis drew magical signs on a new sheet of papyrus, to stifle Thebes by attacking it from all four directions. To the east and west, the fire of Set made the deserts uninhabitable. To the south, the Hyksos’ Nubian allies would be only too happy to massacre any Egyptian fugitives. And what rose up from the north would be as formidable as any army. Without his raising a finger, the emperor’s spirit would kill huge numbers of his enemies.
Those Theban madmen had dared to send him a little limestone scarab, announcing the coronation of Pharaoh Kamose. Behind that puppet king, he knew, stood the inexhaustibly stubborn Queen Ahhotep. This time, she would pay very dearly for her insolence. No matter how skilful she might be, she would have no recourse against the misfortune that was about to descend upon Thebes.
Struck by a sudden doubt, the emperor took the secret passageway leading to the Treasury of the citadel. He alone knew how to unlock the door of the strong-room, which contained huge piles of stolen Egyptian ritual objects. The most precious was the Red Crown of Lower Egypt, characterized by its spiral shape, symbol of the harmonious growth of vital forces.
Apophis had worried needlessly. The crown was safe.
Without it, Ahhotep would never manage to reconquer Egypt. She was nothing but a little rebel adventuress, lost in a dream that would soon be transformed into a nightmare.
Windswept had wrapped herself in a wonderfully soft bedsheet which Asiatic merchants had just delivered to the palace. It was made of a material called silk, which was unknown in the land of the pharaohs. Tany, the emperor’s wife, considered it coarse and uninteresting, so Windswept had acquired the whole consignment.
‘Come,’ she said to her companion.
He was the head groom at the palace, a stocky, coarse-faced man of fifty who smelt of the stable. There was nothing seductive about him, but his strength had caught Windswept’s attention. She was sure that in his arms she would experience new pleasures.
Fascinated by the luxury of the bedchamber, he dared not take another step forward. ‘Is that me?’ he gasped in astonishment, catching sight of himself in a mirror whose glass was less cloudy than usual.
‘Shouldn’t you be looking at me?’ Windswept suggested, taking off her wrap and lying down on the bed.
The groom recoiled, sure he must be seeing a mirage.
‘Don’t be afraid,’ she said softly. ‘Come closer.’
Her voice was so alluring that he obeyed.
The temptress slowly untied his kilt. ‘How strong you are,’ she murmured greedily. ‘Let me prepare you.’
She picked up a hollowed-out bull’s horn containing perfumed oil. Slowly she let oil drip on to her lover’s muscular chest, then smoothed it over his flesh so caressingly that his nervousness vanished and he flung himself on her.
Although delighted by her new conquest’s hunger for her, Windswept was soon disappointed; the brute had no stamina at all, and even seemed to have difficulty getting his breath back.
‘You have an exciting job, haven’t you?’ she said when he had recovered somewhat.
‘That’s true. I love horses—and I hate people who mistreat them.’
‘Is someone doing so?’
‘I can’t say anything about it.’
‘I am the emperor’s sister. And I can help you.’
‘You would do that?’
Windswept gave a convincing smile. ‘Since we are lovers, what could be more natural?’
The groom sat up and perched on the side of the bed. ‘It’s that monster Khamudi and his she-devil of a wife. They brought some young women into my stable and did the most horrible things. He is far, far beyond my r
each. However, if the emperor knew …’
‘He will know.’
The groom gazed at Windswept as though she had been sent from heaven. ‘Then Khamudi will be punished and will never set foot in my stable again?’
‘You can be sure of it. The emperor demands very high standards of morality.’
‘Then I shan’t have to do anything, after all.’
‘What were you planning to do?’
‘Lure Khamudi and his wife into an ambush. As she likes stallions so much, I was going to show her one who has a dangerous little trick: if anyone comes up behind him, he kicks viciously. That madwoman wouldn’t have escaped a second time, and her vile husband would have been spitted on my pitchfork.’
‘The emperor’s justice will solve all your problems,’ promised Windswept.
In view of the circumstances, she would save the life of the High Treasurer and his wife, whose peccadilloes Apophis knew and approved of. The groom, though, was destined for the labyrinth.
As for Windswept, she now had useful new information about the unsavoury couple, whom she hated and would attack when the right moment came.
‘Get dressed and leave now,’ she ordered the groom.
‘Thank you,’ he said, his voice shaking. Thank you for everything you have granted me.’
Scarcely had he left when Minos came in. Still naked, Windswept threw her arms round his neck and kissed him so passionately that she took his breath away. The Minoan artist was her true love, the only one she had not yet sent to his death. Strangely, Minos was not fomenting even the tiniest plot against Apophis, even though the emperor had condemned him to perpetual exile.
With surprising constancy, the Minoan devoted himself only to his art. Thanks to his talent, the palace at Avaris was now fully the equal of the palace at Knossos. Large painted murals depicted Minoan landscapes, acrobats leaping over fierce bulls and labyrinths in which only the souls of the righteous could find their way.
Despite his mistress’s innumerable infidelities, Minos never complained. Being loved by the most beautiful woman in Avaris filled him with joy, and he did not see the dangers he ran in sharing her bed.
‘That brute of a groom has left me unsatisfied,’ she complained. ‘Will you console me?’
Her gentle caress of his perfumed skin aroused his desire at once. Not once had their amorous exploits disappointed her. Minos was not like any other man, and knew how to give pleasure with the spontaneity of an adolescent boy.
But after they had made love, she saw that he was troubled.
‘Is something wrong?’ she asked.
‘It’s to do with Minoa. Rumour has it that the emperor has decided to destroy the island.’
Windswept curled up against him, moulding her body to his. ‘Don’t worry, my love. Jannas hasn’t yet finished cleansing the islands and eradicating support for Minoan independence. When he has finished, the Great Island will find itself alone again and with no choice but to give absolute obedience to Apophis. Of course, it will have to increase the quantities of tributes it pays, because it didn’t do enough to help Jannas, but that will be only a minor inconvenience.’
‘Then Minoa will be spared?’
‘The emperor will turn it into a submissive and devoted province.’
‘Do you think I’ll be able to go home one day?’
‘On two conditions: that I persuade the emperor your work is finished, and that I go with you.’
The painter’s blue eyes were like a child’s. Those are just dreams, aren’t they?’
Windswept ran her fingers tenderly through his curly hair. ‘It will take time to turn them into reality, but don’t give up hope.’
‘You and I, in Minoa … Nothing could be more wonderful.’
‘Make love to me again, Minos. And never stop.’
16
The year was drawing to a close, and Thebes was celebrating its new pharaoh, the completion of a large consignment of new weapons, and the launch of some new war-boats. Ahhotep’s reputation was such that the inhabitants of Thebes, Kebet, Edfu and Dendera no longer cast doubt on her beliefs. Yes, victory really was possible - hadn’t there been several miracles already? And, since a pharaoh now reigned, the gods would come to his aid.
The army of liberation was about to embark for the North, strengthened by many young soldiers who had enlisted over the last few months. After so many months of intensive training, the troops had only one wish: to leave for the front and kill some Hyksos.
‘I’m going too,’ little Ahmose informed his mother, as they watched weapons and stores being loaded aboard the war-fleet.
‘You’re only seven,’ Ahhotep reminded him, ‘and that’s too young to fight.’
‘My brother is Pharaoh, and he needs me. If I don’t help him, he’ll lose the war. I know how to handle the wooden sword.’
‘And the small bow, too, I know—I’ve seen you. But surely a good strategist understands the importance of having a strong rear base? While your brother is at the front, you will watch over Thebes.’
Ahmose did not take these words lightly. ‘Does that mean preparing the second wave of attack and making all the necessary equipment?’
‘Exactly.’
The boy’s face grew intensely serious. ‘And I would be responsible for all that?’
‘Yes, with me, if you think you can do it.’
‘I can, Mother.’
Heray came hurrying up to them and said, ‘I must speak with you alone, Majesty.’
Ahhotep entrusted Ahmose to the officer in charge of his weapons training. She hoped Heray was going to say he had identified and arrested the spy responsible for Seqen’s death, but he broached an entirely different subject.
‘We must postpone the embarkation, Majesty.’
‘Whatever for?’
‘Some of our best captains and many of the oarsmen are ill.’
‘Is there an epidemic of something?’
‘I don’t think so, because they’re suffering from different illnesses. But all the men are seriously ill.’
There was a sudden violent gust of wind, which nearly blew the queen’s headdress off.
‘What a disgusting smell,’ she said. ‘It’s just like the stink of rotting corpses.’
Fear tightened Heray’s throat. ‘It’s a plague sent by the emissaries of Sekhmet, who is enraged with humanity and determined to destroy it.’
‘That ought not to happen except in the five last days of the year,’ Ahhotep reminded him, ‘during that terrible period when the old time is dead and the new has not yet taken form. There’s still more than a week to go before the period of danger.’
‘Then it must be a curse sent by Apophis,’ said Heray. ‘It makes it impossible for us to strike north.’
The plague wind caused panic. How, asked townspeople and soldiers alike, could they protect themselves against the appalling stench, except by shutting themselves away in their houses and barracks, or huddling in the holds of the ships?’
‘Summon all the officers,’ Ahhotep ordered Heray. ‘Tell them to assmble their men and put an immediate end to this disorder. Next, incense is to be burnt in every building.’
‘We haven’t very much, Majesty. We’ll soon run out.’
‘Send a boat to Edfu to fetch a large quantity of terebinth resin, and ensure that the infirmary is constantly purified with its smoke.’
Kamose came ashore from the flagship, looking anxious. ‘Shouldn’t we move everyone out of the base, Mother?’
‘It would be no use—this wind will blow over the whole of the Theban province. The emperor is trying to suffocate us.’
It was Teti the Small who reminded them of the first precaution to take when Sekhmet showed her anger like this: the left eye must be closed, to prevent the disease-causing air from entering the body, and the navel must be carefully cleaned, because that was the point of exit.
For both soldiers and civilians, there was one vital instruction: strict cleanliness. Even Wa
y-Finder and Laughter were washed and brushed, in order to prevent the stench entering their flesh. But the evil wind doubled in strength during the last five days of the year, and despite constant care several people died.
If the emperor’s curse triumphed, there would be no further rebirth of the light, no more procession of priests and priestesses carrying the ritual objects up to the temple roof to celebrate their union with the sun-disc, no more rites bringing the statues to life, and the army of liberation would die with the dying year.
Kamose and Ahhotep were everywhere, urging everyone not to give up hope but to fight the plague. Little Ahmose’s courage greatly impressed everyone. Sprinkling himself with a scented essence at regular intervals, he calmed those who, in his opinion, were panicking needlessly.
On the fifth day, the wind became even stronger, and the number of deaths rose.
According to the ancient texts, there were only two remedies left. The first was to write ‘These curses will not attack us’ on a strip of fine linen, then tie twelve knots in the cloth, offer it bread and beer, and apply it to one’s throat. The second was to light as many torches as possible, in order to illuminate the darkness.
During this terrible ordeal, which threatened to put an end to his reign almost before it had begun, Kamose was able to master his fears and behaved with a composure worthy of a mature man. It was the pharaoh himself who lit most of the torches, watched by the Afghan and Moustache.
‘That lad has real spirit,’ said the Afghan admiringly. ‘In my country, he would be considered worthy to fight.’
‘A barbarian like you has no idea of what a pharaoh can be.’
‘You’ve known a lot of pharaons, have you?’
‘With Seqen and Kamose, at least two. Instead of criticizing, why can’t you admire what’s being done?’
War of the Crowns Page 7
