I, the Sun

by Morris, Janet

  “Then, Arnuwandas, what else have you?”

  “Ribaddi, governor of Byblos, regained Sumuru for Egypt once Tushratta chased the Amurrites out. And one more thing: remember last year Aziru took Tyre for his father and killed its king and placed a man of his in there? Well, the usurper has been ousted by a ‘legitimate’ Egyptian appointee.

  “Aziru is naked and cowering weaponless before the whole wolf-pack of them.”

  “Aziru is about to become a wolf, himself.”

  “You will do nothing?”

  “I will do nothing.”

  “Piyassilis will be troubled.”

  “Over an Amurrite? Not as troubled as he would be if his own father were slain and he tossed out of Hattusas! I have to see what Egypt is about: does the sphinx wake, at last? I want no trouble with them.”

  “Do you fear Egypt? We have no peer upon the field of battle. We must –”

  “You must recollect your place, and to whom you are speaking. I fear some things. Egypt at present is among them. Does a man not fear an enraged bull if it is charging? Do the people not fear the gods? Fear is the wine that slakes the thirst for bravery – such thirst unquenched leads to madness. Now sit down and we will discuss it.”

  Discuss it howsoever much I tried, I could not convince Arnuwandas that inaction was the only prudent course at present.

  But something else convinced him for me.

  It was Piyassilis’ very frothing vehemence, in Arnuwandas’ efforts to appear more knowledgeable, he opposed Piyassilis’ fire with water. Disagreeing with his brother, my eldest came to agree with me.

  But the precipitating factors were not Piyassilis’ return from Syria alone: there was also a tablet I got from Duttu, and a letter Aziru himself wrote to me.

  Piyassilis growled like the captive Amurrite lion, and paced the palace chancery, ranting that Aziru was right: all was upon our heads, and that instead of pulling my troops back from Nuhasse, I should have sent them to Aziru’s aid.

  I reminded my son quietly, “Aziru does not want us in Amurru; he still plays his game with Egypt. Did he say: why did you not aid me? No, he did not. He is not bashful about writing to me and blaming me for his misfortunes. Nowhere does he suggest that I go and do battle for him, nor even at his side does he invite me to fight.”

  “But there must be something I can do!”

  “Something you can do? Make a wife of him, Piyassilis, if you love him so. He is writing to Akhenaten to assure his loyalty while he writes to me the same, and even lays all his mismanagements at my feet, saying: ‘The king of Hatti has brought all these ills upon me.’ Look at this, which he wrote to our Duttu, who is no longer just a scribe in Naphuria Akhenaten’s court, but is now ‘Chief Mouthpiece of All the Foreign Lands’!”

  And I read to him the copy Duttu had sent me via a Sutu of a letter Aziru had written to Egypt:

  “To Duttu my Lord, my father. Thus speaks Aziru thy son, thy servant: I will fall down at thy feet…. Whatever is the king of Egypt’s wish, I will do. The lands of Amurru are your lands, and my house is yours. Behold, enemies have spoken words of slander before the king, o pharaoh, do not admit them. For if the king does not love me, but hates me, what shall I do?”

  “Let me see that!”

  So I handed the letter to Piyassilis, and he read it over, and shook his head, and said: “You know as well as I that he means only to protect his neck.”

  “He means to have Egypt confirm his status as successor to his father, dull-witted son of mine. And he means, I expect, exactly what he says, here…” and I shoved tablets around until I found the one I sought: “This, Aziru wrote to Pharaoh, and even sent me a copy himself: ‘seven times and seven times I fall down at the feet of my lord; I am thy servant forever… two youths I have given; they may do as Pharaoh commands. And may Pharaoh allow me to enter Amurru.’”

  “He sent hostages to Egypt?”

  “Egypt took them, I would wager. He is exiled from his city, begging Egypt to confirm him in his rulership: though he is a king by blood, he whines at Naphuria Akhenaten’s heel that he may be confirmed as an Egyptian governor. Do you still want to drive down to Amurru and rescue him, o hero?”

  Arnuwandas, who apparently had been awhile standing at the door, applauded as he entered.

  Piyassilis, tossing the tablet on top of the pile, growled that if it was the Sun, myself, who had been slain by a greater power, and if Egypt had taken his beloved brother – and here he looked at Arnuwandas with a slight appraising smile – and had made that brother a hostage, then he, Piyassilis, would probably have done and said exactly the same as Aziru had done and said.

  Arnuwandas observed, crossing his mighty arms over his chest, that in such a case it would be Piyassilis who was the hostage, and he, the Crown Prince, who was the supplicant, and he would never have been laid as low as to find himself in so compromised a position in the first place.

  I silenced Piyassilis even as that one opened his mouth to retort, saying: “Would either of you two bold princes like to go down to Egypt for this Reception of Foreign Tribute? It is supposed to be the most wondrous of events.”

  Now, of course, I had no intention of sending either one of them, lest I never get them back. But they did not know that.

  Two princely countenances drained pale; two pairs of shoulders straightened and two chests .puffed out beneath their harvest-season woolens. Two jaws jutted.

  I rubbed my own shaven jaw, and waited to see which would volunteer.

  Upon the opening of Piyassilis’ mouth, Arnuwandas also spoke up, and if I were a fool I could have sent two fools to Egypt, both of whom knew better, but neither of whom could stand to see his sibling look the braver, even when that bravery was foolhardy unto the extreme.

  So I lectured them both briefly, and those crestfallen young men who left their sire’s presence would not soon forget that I cherished rash and prideful behavior not at all in my princes.

  It was Hattu-ziti I was sending down to Egypt with our ‘tribute’: if they wanted a prince of mine, they would have to come take him from me.

  While I waited alone for my chamberlain, I mused upon something that still raises my hackles when I consider it: how briefly do we touch our lives together, we who are kings, and what horrendous consequences from those brief and tenuous encounters evolve. Abdi-asirta was dead, as Aziru had said, upon my account. I would have liked to sit and talk with him at length of all he had seen and learned of Egypt over the years; I had expected to do it. But I had briefly met him, and our fates had intertwined, and he was dead from that small encounter. And now another was king and that one, Aziru, though I had met him more times than his sire, I knew hardly any better.

  Tushratta and I contested, year in and year out, without ever getting a close look at one another. To find out what the truth was in the matter of the heretic pharaoh, criminal of Akhetaten, the Horse-Face Naphuria Akhenaten, I was sending Hattu-ziti to Egypt, into deadlier peril than might be faced on any line of skirmish or refractory frontier.

  Why? Because I was a king, and the pharaoh “living in truth” in the City-of-Rejoicing-in-the-Horizon was a king, and no matter how much we disagreed, form must be maintained between those who exercise kingship.

  There were some who had advised me to send nothing down for this Pharaoh’s “wonder” for which a special hall had been built to accommodate gifts from foreign lands. But so long as I did not end up gifting him with the person whom I sent bearing my presents down to Egypt, I did not see any reason to waken the sphinx’s ire. Especially since it seemed that affairs on the seaboard might have done just that: if Naphuria Akhenaten had been jarred from the somnambulance in which he ruled, none of the kings who scrabbled over Upper and Lower Retenu were safe.

  Egypt, awakened, was something I did not want to face just then.

  So I was sending fine and precious gifts: cedar, obsidian, Hattian silver, a blade of good iron that would make a kingly dirk, trained hunting dogs from my older brot
her’s pack. I have not much mentioned him: he plays none of these powerful games, and never has. Sometimes I think Manninis, this brother of mine who was grown when I was born and resides in Nerik and is content to stay there, is the wisest son of my father, and I am the fool.

  But then, since I cannot tell if he is as content as he professes, keeping bees and dogs and training hunting hawks, and keeping out of political affairs, I cannot tell for sure.

  “Hattu-ziti, do not look at me that way: if you are hesitant about this matter, I will send another.”

  “Who?” he said, raking his fingers through the sparse grey hairs that remained atop his head and settling his bulk down with a sigh where I was piling up all the foreign correspondence according to its country of origin.

  “‘Who?’” I chuckled. “You have caught me: I can send no one else. But I could throw all of this –” I gestured to the tablets, “out of the window, or better yet into the offering pool, and then we would be free of the whole problem. Temporarily, at least.”

  “You are putting your own concern onto my countenance, Suppiluliumas. Does the Sun think I am afraid? It is long since we fought in Samuha, and I have not had as much time in the field as others you value highly. But why is that? I will tell you why it is: it is because the Sun needed me in Hattusas, and I subordinated my wishes to your own. And I have built for you the double walls of Hattusas as no man could have done it: let us face the mountains and the truth therein: I have no equal at such work. But since I am done with it and the city is fortified like no other city since the beginnings of the Hattian nation has ever been fortified, and since I have trained a corps of engineers more dexterous and inventive than have ever been – even the Ahhiyawans said that! – and since I have taken care of all the Sun’s correspondence with foreign lands since you, my lord, sat down upon the seat of kingship, and since I have proved that my diplomatic skills are sufficient to maintain a little man like Sarrupsi on the quaking throne of Nuhasse – since all of these things I have done for the Sun, let the Sun do something for me: use me. I am forty-nine years of age and fit for more than drafting polite replies to your brother monarchs. No one in Hatti knows Syrian affairs and Egyptian affairs as do I. Send me! Send me free of qualm and free of doubt. Let the risk be counted between us: it is nothing. I am a man whose moment has come. I am the sun’s disk rising above the mountains: I am trembling with delight like a husband on his bridal night! I am full of anticipation, and free from fear. So you see, you must –”

  “Cease. Cease, before I am unmanned. Go, then; and have done! I had not realized you were so unhappy.”

  “The chariot horse is not unhappy when he is sweating on the trail, but when the campaigning is done and he wonders whether he will be pastured the next season, then he sweats the true sweat. I did not mean that I have not taken pride in implementing the Sun’s desires, only that those labors are done. And who goes to winter in tropical splendor, fêted by the greats of all the nations, meeting in Akhetaten with princes of all the foreign lands, should be one who can make some use of the opportunity! I will do you service the magnitude of which will make the Egyptians’ ‘wondrous’ celebration like a sneeze – forgotten as soon as it has come!”

  “Do you know something, Hattu-ziti?”

  “I know many things, my lord. What thing is it to which you refer?”

  “I am not any longer concerned about sending you to Egypt. I am not concerned at all, my lord Chamberlain.”

  “Then, let us go over the bill of lading for my journey.”

  “Let us go over the purpose of your journey, which cannot be written out on any piece of wood, or incised in clay.”

  Hattu-ziti raised a stubby, white brow, and sat back.

  “Firstly, I have two messages for Aziru of Amurru’s ambassador.”

  “You are so sure Aziru himself will not go? All the princes from Retenu the Upper and Lower will be there.”

  “Not unless he wears the rope and shackle, he will not. I have said there are two messages. You will only deliver one.”

  “One?”

  “Wait till I have done. One. You will have to see whether Amurru is a country of dogs, or a country of wolves. If dogs, then tell the Amurrite that I come in spring to change their collars, and they would be best off to crawl whining to me in Alalakh and lie down at my feet.”

  “My Sun, how am I going to determine which kind of person the Amurrite ambassador may be? Dogs and wolves both howl at the moon. Shall I take Telipinus to divine me the answer?”

  “As to how you will determine what kind of man you face, the greeting you receive from him will establish it. You do not need Telipinus. Harken to your own heart in the matter. I will not question its counsel.”

  “Then tell me the second message.”

  “If the Amurrite be a wolf, say unto him that the Sun desires that he herd the lambs of Ugarit into my fold. If he is yet terrible, let him strike fear into Niqmad of Ugarit. For that I will grant him the run of the coast until he seeks to establish himself as my vassal under his own initiative.”

  “Now I see why the Sun does not write these things… are you –”

  “I said let me have done. Now, whichever kind of message you deliver, add to it my condolences in the matter of Aziru’s father’s death, and the death of his man in Tyre, and the loss of the city of Sumuru. Add quietly that I am sure he will regain it, if the man is wolfish, but say no more if he is not.”

  “And what does the Sun wish me to do if the Ugaritic ambassador should hear of this?”

  “By then you will have told Niqmad of Ugarit’s ambassador that I have expressed a desire for friendly relations with his country, and made overtures to the effect that such dialogue between us must soon commence. You may say that I have also expressed a wish to visit his country, and furthermore invite him, Niqmad the king and his Egyptian wife also, to visit me.”

  Hattu-ziti shook his head back and forth, gloving his smile with his hand. “I should not be bemused by you, but I always am… what shall I say to the Egyptian?”

  “Ah-hah! This is best of all. It is a very delicate task I am assigning you, so pay close attention: convey to my brother, Naphuria Akhenaten, my fondest wishes that all be well with him, with his country, with his government, with his horses and his chariots and his wives and goats and lice and what-have-you. Make sure to confer upon the Honorable Lord Hani a clear understanding of the Sun’s position: what is in the hearts of the Hattian people is a wish for continued peaceful relationship between us. So fervent is the respect, so unswerving the trust of the Sun toward his brother Naphuria and the people of Egypt that these depredations of the Usurper Tushratta we are overlooking as far as Egypt is concerned. Say that in our hearts it has become necessary for us to separate Egypt from Mitanni, which we do not recognize anymore, since a false king came to squat on its throne. Say to Naphuria that I am not giving up one pinch of Hattian ground to this spurious Mitannian state, and that war is between myself and the Mitannian until the Gods decide the victor. And tell him, Lord Hani, that you are not sure, but you think that I, the Sun, am going to go down into Retenu and restore order there, lest trade between Egypt and Hatti be continually disturbed. Cite to him Burnaburiash's reluctance to send a royal princess upon her bridal journey, and make the Sun's displeasure at Egypt's failure to keep order gently, but unmistakably plain.”

  There fell a silence. Then Hattu-ziti ruminated: “The Egyptians might jump right out of their holy river to take that bait. If they think you are going to settle Retenu as an act of friendly –”

  "Even / do not think they are fools. I just think they know very well what I am going to do. The only way that can be to my advantage is if I am bold enough to proclaim it, and canny enough to make that proclamation a graceful garment in which they may conceal their impotence. After all, if they could do it, they would have done it by now."

  “When you said they already know it: what did you mean?”

  “I mean our traitor: the bird th
at flies from Hattusas to land on Hani’s hand.”

  “I do not wish to contradict the Sun, but I think there is no person disloyal among us.”

  “Have you joined the king of Egypt in his waking dream? There is someone among us who is speaking evil to our enemies, that is sure. Who it is I have not yet determined.” To this day, I have not found him.

  “Who it is,” said Hattu-ziti firmly, “is not in the chancery, nor among the palace scribes, nor among anyone of the palace officials.”

  “We shall see. I and the Storm God will consider the matter. You consider, while you are in the City of the Horizon, whether or not there is truly ‘rejoicing’ therein, or whether the cisterns of the city are filled with tears. Find a way to have audience with this Naphuria Akhenaten if you can. If you cannot, at least observe him closely. I would know whether he is truly a madman, or whether he plays the cripple-of-mind for some obscure purpose. And seek you the ‘Sole Friend’ Horemheb, and the ‘Divine Father’ Aye. Bring back the true word to me, whether or not they are deceiving us."

  Hattu-ziti nodded as calmly as if I had asked him to go look over the chariot horses of the king and bring me back news of their faring, and brought the bill of lading again to my attention.

  When I had put my seal to it and assigned him suitable honor guards, I was planning to dismiss him. But as I was naming his attendants, he begged a favor:

  “Let me take Kantuzilis, your son of the second degree, with me. He is not suited to the army, but in affairs of letters and diplomacy he might someday excel.”

  “I am sending no son of mine, however lowly and ill-favored, into a land that practices the diplomacy of the hostage.”

  “Then, we will not tell anyone who he is; he resembles you not at all; he is free from the habitual postures of princes. And he needs most desperately a chance to feel himself of some use.”

  “What is this about?” I demanded. “Take Zidanza, if you need one of my boys to make you feel secure! At least he is sound of mind and body. What use could Kantuzilis be to you?”