The Amarnan Kings, Book 2: Scarab - Smenkhkare

by Overton, Max

  A corner of the orchard where the fruit trees still grew attracted the attention of Huy, Overseer of the King's Gardeners. A small artificial hill was constructed and planted with quick growing herbs and scented bushes. Stone slabs were cunningly placed so that when water was poured into a basin at the top, a series of small cascades was formed. The splashing water humidified the air, cooling it and providing a soothing background to the birdsong and thrum of insects. Often, in the heat of the afternoon, the young king and his queen would sit on a stone bench by the fish pool at the bottom of the cascade, spending moments together in relative solitude, away from the cares of the kingdom.

  They did not concern themselves that behind the screen of trees, a hidden chain of slaves scooped water from the fish pond and passed it hand over hand to the rear of the hill and up to its summit. For an hour each afternoon, the waterfalls leaped and splashed for the king's pleasure.

  Though a mere boy when he came to his coronation day, Nebkheperure Tutankhaten had become a god on that day, and had been admitted into the company of the many gods of the Two Kingdoms. The event changed his impressionable mind and he lost his boyhood together with his purely mortal status. The boy became, if not yet a man, at least a youth. And a youth married to a young, beautiful girl who had been raised in the belief that she ruled by right of birth. More and more, the boy king sought out her presence, and his mind turned from a regard for her as a companion and playmate to that of a queen and a wife.

  Other things occupied Tutankhaten's mind though. Ever mindful of the gods, even before he became one, he was determined to honour them in the way he knew best, by ordering the enormous resources of the Two Kingdoms into the planning and erection of temples and statues. The great temple dedicated to the Aten at Gempaaten, near the third cataract in Nubia, was refurbished and enlarged, being rededicated to the gods Amun and Atum. Numerous statues in honour of Amun were started around Waset, and if they bore an uncanny resemblance to the young king, that was only because Tutankhaten, despite his name, was the earthly representative of Amun. Though the priest of Amun, at the coronation, had named him Tutankhamen, the young king still retained his birth name on the advice of his Tjaty.

  "Do not be dictated to by a priest," Ay said. "It is your name and you will change it when the time is right."

  "When will the time be right?"

  "I will tell you."

  Ay, ever mindful of the king's age and lack of experience, sought to relieve him of as many of the petty annoyances of everyday life as possible, assuming full political and judicial control. It was Ay who sat in judgment every day in the Hall of Justice, Ay who met with ambassadors and envoys, and Ay who held, with Horemheb, the army in the palm of his hand. This was an arrangement that gave the young king time to design his temples and statues, time to lead the prayers in the temples, his high treble rising clear into the still air every dawn. If any thought that Ay assumed too much power, none dared say it, and so Ay grew in stature daily. Yet Ay's life was not completely one of work and responsibility. He took time off in the hot afternoons to sit in the king's gardens and enjoy the quiet, away from the court and his duties. On this one afternoon not long after the floods had receded, he sat on a bench with Horemheb, casually observing the king and queen by the fish pool, the cascade behind them successfully drowning out their young voices.

  "They seem happy enough," Horemheb mused, stretching out his legs and kicking off his sandals. "I don't know why you are so worried. The boy is doing well."

  "He is a remarkable young man," Ay agreed. "He has taken to kingship better than I thought he would."

  "What basis do you have for saying that? Aside from his priestly duties you do not give him much opportunity to play the king."

  "Nor will I until he is older. He is, as you say, just a boy and he has no real concept of the complexities of rulership."

  "Then he should be thankful you are here to assume the burden."

  Ay looked up sharply. "You mock me, Horemheb?"

  "Perhaps. You cannot complain because you run the Kingdoms and are king in all but name, when you have been amassing power and wealth since Amenhotep's day."

  "What I did, I did for Kemet, not myself."

  "Of course." Horemheb fell silent and watched the young king and queen over by the fish pool. The sound of the falling water drowned out their voices except for an occasional burst of laughter, but he could read them through a study of the way they sat, how they leaned toward one another, a touch, and a look. "They are in love," he said, with a trace of surprise.

  Ay nodded. "Such is my reading of the situation. He has always been a quiet boy, studious even, though he excels in archery. Still, he is a boy yet and only starting to discover the delights of a woman."

  "At ten? He is precocious."

  "He is the blood of Amenhotep, what can you expect?" Ay nodded toward the young queen. "What gives me greater concern is my grand-daughter Ankhesenpaaten. Though it pains me to say it, she is a true child of my own daughter Nefertiti. Hot-blooded, passionate and driven by a desire for power. She was the only choice for queen, I know, but unless that boy grows up fast and satisfies her lusts, there will be trouble."

  Horemheb frowned. "She would be unfaithful to the king? What would she gain?"

  "Her father took her young and awoke an appetite within her. She needs a man and she has a boy." Ay shrugged expansively. "Oh, the novelty and delights of being queen will hold her content for a while but sooner or later she will seek to quench the fire between her legs. A child that cannot be the king's would be disastrous."

  "I find that hard to believe. They look happy, by the gods--even the queen. Look at them. That is a boy and a girl who love each other."

  "I took my grand-daughter aside and explained certain matters to her. She knows that her surest path to what she wants lies through the king's bed. Once they are sleeping together, her appetites will diminish." Ay chuckled. "And who knows, maybe there will be an heir."

  "I would have thought that was the last thing you wanted, old man. An heir cuts you out of the path to the throne."

  "You put your finger on the nub despite your gibes, Horemheb. I am an old man. What chance do I have of surviving Tutankhaten? I want the future of Kemet in safe hands--my own for now, later that young man's, after him a son of his body on my grand-daughter. My line will rule Kemet even if I do not."

  "If I thought differently, I would oppose you as I did once before. As it is, you rule Kemet even if your name is not carved on the monuments and the statues of Amun do not have your face."

  Now Ay sat silently in the perfumed shade of the citrus trees, remembering. At length he sighed deeply. "I loved my daughter Nefertiti, for all she was headstrong and single-minded."

  "Not unlike you."

  "Maybe." Ay hesitated. "Is...is she..."

  "She is alive, if that is what you are asking," Horemheb replied, keeping his voice flat. "And before you ask, I will not tell you where she is. Suffice it to say I get monthly reports from my spies and agents throughout the lands bordering on Kemet. She is alive."

  "Thank you, Horemheb. Will you bring her home--for me? She is no longer a threat."

  "No."

  "Please, Horemheb. She is all I have. Will you do it for an old man who probably will not live much longer? I would be reconciled with her. Please."

  "No, I will not. She was exiled for life and I will not break my word to Akhenaten--or his memory if he should accidentally die, so drive that thought from your mind too. Concentrate your affections on your other daughter, Mutnodjme."

  "She has no great affection for me and stays in her estates in Ineb Hedj. I have no-one, Horemheb. No-one who loves me." Ay sighed deeply again.

  "Your pain drives me to tears," Horemheb said, his voice oozing sarcasm. "Go find some woman of the streets. If you pay her enough, she will love you."

  Ay got up and walked away from Horemheb, toward the far end of the fish pond and the end of the screen of trees on the far side. H
e watched for several minutes as sweating slaves dipped broad-mouthed clay pots into the pond and passed them along the line, circulating the water at great effort for the fleeting pleasure of a boy and girl. He nodded in satisfaction. It was right that the multitudes of Kemet toil for the comfort of the few. The old man stretched, his joints cracking, before turning back to look at Kemet's General on the bench under the citrus shade. The General was watching the king, ignoring Ay, who was the true danger. Smiling to himself, he thought over his recent conversation. Hide your true thoughts. Misdirect those about you . He did not care about Nefertiti--she had proved weak. Nor about her sister Mutnodjme. He had not seen her in years and truth be told, did not care if she lived or died. His lovely and lustful grand-daughter Ankhesenpaaten would serve her purpose for now and could be easily controlled. If she produces an heir, so much the better . If Tutankhaten showed signs of rebellion he could be removed and a younger boy put in his place. I will live forever. I will rule Kemet forever . Ay's shoulders slumped and he put on the mantle of an old man again, shuffling back to Horemheb.

  "We might have a problem in Nubia," Ay said as he sat down again. "I am getting troubling reports of banditry in Kush."

  "There are always bandits in Nubia. What makes this so important you would trouble yourself with it?"

  "Most bandits are gangs of roaming thugs. The governor sends out a patrol and stamps them flat, hangs a few, and the region is at peace again until the next time." Ay turned to look at the other man from beneath hooded eyes. "This one is different. He is Kemetu rather than Nubian, and calls himself Son of Sobek, Son of the Crocodile god."

  "So instruct the governor to send out his garrison. Do I have to tell you how to do your job?"

  "He has sent out three patrols. All have disappeared."

  "Really? Disappeared or killed?"

  "I don't know. Does it matter?"

  "Possibly not, but if they have just disappeared without trace they may have deserted or joined forces with this Son of Sobek. Do you know who he is?"

  Ay shrugged. "Just a bandit, if a somewhat troubling one."

  Horemheb turned to search the Tjaty's face. "Could it be Smenkhkare? He is supposed to have died by a crocodile, but no body was recovered. Now a Son of the Crocodile god emerges, a Kemetu, leading Nubian rebels. Is it just coincidence?"

  "It is not Smenkhkare," Ay scoffed, though his eyes did not meet the general's. "Eyewitnesses saw him pulled under. He is definitely dead."

  "Then we may have someone passing himself off as Smenkhkare. In some ways that could be even more dangerous."

  Ay said nothing, just raised his eyebrows questioningly.

  "The real Smenkhkare was a king who, if nothing else, loved Kemet. If he survived he would seek an open, just path back to power. He would not be inciting the provinces to rebel against the throne. If this Son of Sobek is just pretending to be the king, then he will try to appeal to past loyalties as well as attracting brigands in search of plunder."

  Ay nodded. "You have put your finger on it again, Horemheb. Are you sure you do not want my job?"

  "I am a soldier," Horemheb growled. "I like my enemies in front of me where I can keep an eye on them, not skulking around seeking power in dirty places."

  "Then, my able General, I require you to confront the enemies of Kemet once again. Go to Nubia, track down and capture or kill this Son of Sobek, whoever he is, and restore peace to the province."

  "And if he is Smenkhkare?"

  "He is not. He cannot be. Smenkhkare is dead."

  "And if he is?" Horemheb persisted. "What then?"

  "Officially Smenkhkare is dead. We buried him for the entire world to see in the Great Place. Any bandit leader you capture will be an imposter, nothing more." Ay held Horemheb's gaze firmly. "An imposter would unbalance the nation, disturb Ma'at. He should be summarily executed." He paused, looking for any wavering of resolve in the general's face. "Is that understood?"

  "Yes."

  Ay continued to stare into the general's face. "But?"

  "But nothing. I agree with you. I happen to like young Smenkhkare...or should I say I liked him, but his presence would be most unsettling at the present time. Three kings of Kemet at the same time would be unprecedented and would result in civil war." Horemheb shook his head. "No, the bandit leader in Nubia is an impostor, nothing more. I will find him and remove him."

  "When will you leave?"

  "Immediately. I will take the Amun legion as it would take too long to move troops down from the borders. Psenamy will command the few troops left in Waset. He is your creature, Ay, so talk to him. I expect him to guard the king well in my absence."

  Ay nodded his acquiescence as Horemheb continued counting off points on his fingers. "I will want every scrap of information you have on this man's movements. I need to know what troops are in place in Nubia already, and any recent political appointments you have made. I am presuming I have full authority to act in this matter?"

  "Yes, just don't exhaust the treasury," Ay said sourly.

  "If you want him caught you must expect to pay the price."

  "Have you any idea how much that boy..." Ay jerked his thumb in the direction of the king "...is costing me with his constant demands for new temples and statues?"

  Horemheb laughed. "He is the king, after all."

  "Well, I need more gold for the treasury. While you are down in Nubia, see if you can increase the production at the mines there."

  "That is hardly my job. Who is viceroy?"

  "Huy."

  Horemheb shook his head. "I don't think I know him."

  "He was Scribe of the Correspondence under Merimose in Amenhotep's time. He knows the country intimately, so make use of his knowledge. I might add that although he is about your age, he is a personal friend of the king."

  "There was a Huy in the army in Asia just before I took over there. Him?"

  "Very probably. He earned the title of 'His Majesty's Brave Warrior of Cavalry' before he came to court. He became 'Divine Father' and 'Fan-bearer on the King's Right', like me, so do not dismiss him as just another political appointee. Huy has real ability."

  "Where is he based?"

  "Sehotep-Neteru that the natives call Faras. There is a major garrison there, under Lieutenant Penno. You'd be advised to make use of him also. He knows how the Nubians fight."

  Horemheb contemplated the old Tjaty cautiously. "If Huy and this Penno are so formidable, why do you need me?"

  "Penno was one of the officers who came to Waset and swore his oath of fealty to Smenkhkare. Can you imagine what would happen if he came across this Son of Sobek and renewed his oath to him?"

  Horemheb smiled. "Why would he if he is not Smenkhkare?"

  "Just be sure you are the one to catch and kill him." Ay saw the king and queen get up from where they now sat on the grass by the fish pond and move toward them, hand in hand. He tapped Horemheb on the knee to catch his attention and stood up, bowing as the royal couple drew near. "Your majesties."

  "Divine Father," Tutankhaten replied, graciously nodding his head, before spoiling the effect by grinning. "Horemheb, you have not been to see me in all the time you have been back in Waset. I want to hear some exciting stories of the rich lands you are conquering for me in Asia."

  "Alas, your majesty, I have to leave for Nubia immediately."

  "But I want you here," the king pouted. "Ay, tell him to stay. I want him to tell me stories."

  "Tuti," Ankhesenpaaten said gently, laying her fingers gently on her small husband's arm. "There will be time for stories later. You should tell them of our good news."

  "Good news, your majesty?"

  "But...oh, all right. My beautiful Khesi and I have decided we are going to have a baby of our own."

  Ay blinked. "Er, that is wonderful news, majesty." His eyes flicked to his grand-daughter who just smiled coolly. "When is this joyous event?"

  "Well, Khesi has to show me what to do, but how hard can it be? I am the king after all.
I can do anything."

  "Indeed you can your majesty. I look forward to the day when Kemet's succession is assured." Ay bowed deeply again, hiding a smile.

  Return to Contents

  * * *

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Trumpets flared in the light, airy, sunlit halls of the king's palace at Akhet-Aten as King Waenre Akhenaten moved solemnly through the wide pillared corridors and halls toward the Chamber of Justice. Behind him marched the commander of the palace guards, Khaemnum, lately second in command of the Amun legion under General Psenamy, and now with an independent command guarding the king. He took his duties seriously, though he still suffered bouts of confusion as to whether he guarded the king from the people, or the other way round. Either way, he kept his men close and his eyes and ears open.

  Servants threw open the double cedar doors of the Chamber of Justice. The space inside seemed larger for the scattering of people within it, a handful of the nobles of Akhet-Aten, merchants and shop-keepers, and a few common people, holding papers and documents in the hopes of finding the King's Justice.

  The king looked round at his audience as he entered the chamber, a small smile twinkling his eyes. He turned to Khaemnum. "I think I have more guards here than petitioners," he said softly. "Could you not serve your purpose adequately by having half wait outside?"

  Khaemnum grunted and spun slowly on his heel, surveying the small crowd carefully. With a nod, he gestured to his men, entering with only a small guard which ranged itself around the throne on the raised dais. He waited until all was still and Akhenaten seated comfortably before moving to the front of the dais and holding up his right hand.

  "Behold and attend, citizens of Akhet-Aten. Your king, Waenre Akhenaten, comes before you to hear your pleas for justice. Approach now and present your evidence." Khaemnum lowered his hand and stepped back, gesturing to the Chamberlain, who immediately pushed the first man forward, onto his knees in front of the throne.