by Nick Drake
‘Each man must pay the penalty for failure to protect the King,’ said the Crown Prince, preparing to kill again. But the King stepped forward, and with his own sword he executed the second man, who died with a grievous howl that silenced everyone present.
25
I awoke the next morning stiff and aching from the beating administered by the Crown Prince’s guards. I was black and blue across my arms and legs, and a dark bruise shadowed my left cheek.
‘At least your teeth are still in your head,’ quipped Simut as we made our way through the city streets towards the palace, accompanied by our own guards.
‘And your head on your shoulders,’ added Nakht.
It seemed to me there was a new air of tension on the streets. Now the Hittites deliberately slighted us, turning their backs as we approached. And the Chief Steward, who was waiting for us inside the palace itself, looked deeply uneasy. Their internal security had been tightened for our visit; other than the Hittite palace guards, who surrounded us as soon as we entered, the place seemed deserted.
This time we did not have to wait for an audience with the King. We were immediately led through the dismal, deserted passageways, and swiftly ushered once more into the pillared hall. Once again, the Crown Prince looked pleased with himself, as if he knew something we didn’t. I noticed Nakht warily absorbing this, too.
‘What is happening?’ Nakht asked the Chief Steward quietly.
‘I’m afraid I have not been party to the latest discussions with the King. His son has been with him all morning,’ he replied nervously.
Quickly the King entered the hall. He spoke rapidly, and the Chief Steward, translating, attempted to keep up.
‘We have considered the Great Queen’s proposal, and find it to our liking. Let our two great empires be joined as one family by marriage. We will send our son to the Queen, in marriage, to sit upon the throne of Egypt with her. He will be King. The terms of his powers and necessities must be satisfactory. Do not disappoint us.’
He glared at Nakht, and at the Crown Prince himself. Nakht, pleased at this development, stepped forward to respond.
‘On behalf of the Queen of Egypt, may I offer our congratulations at this happy news. The Prince will be welcomed and honoured in Egypt as a son, and as King. I lay down my own life as bond for his safety, well-being and contentment. He will be able to call on me, at any time. I am his loyal servant.’
And he bowed respectfully to the Crown Prince.
But the Crown Prince smiled with a strange satisfaction, and slowly shook his head. Too late, Nakht realized he had fallen into a trap. A brief fanfare heralded the arrival of a new character. Absolute silence dominated the hall. And then, someone entered quietly, reluctantly, through the arched doorway to the royal apartments. All eyes fell upon this figure, whose nervousness and anxiety were painfully obvious.
His face was exquisite; his glossy hair fell around his shoulders in lustrous black waves. He held himself proudly and yet vulnerably, with little of the masculine confidence of his brother and father. He was nevertheless amazingly charismatic.
‘I am the Prince Zannanza,’ he said.
The pillared hall was utterly silent. I watched as Nakht struggled to regain his footing. He had been comprehensively outwitted, for how could he bring back this delicate, gentle man to be the husband of the Queen, and to sit upon the throne of Egypt? It was as if the Hittites had played an enormous, disastrous joke upon us. But what could Nakht say? It was too late. So he bowed to Prince Zannanza.
‘The Royal Envoy Nakht presents himself. It will be my great honour to escort you to Egypt on behalf of the Queen, who bids me wish you well.’
Prince Zannanza returned the bow. He glanced at me with bright, intelligent and frightened eyes. Simut and I bowed carefully to him.
‘My son will leave for Egypt with you as soon as possible. We remember the urgency of the Queen’s request,’ said the King. ‘Furthermore we will negotiate the terms of a settlement regarding the disputed and troublesome territories that lie between our empires.’
To my surprise, the Crown Prince nodded with agreement at this. Only a few days previously, he had been utterly opposed to an armistice. Now he looked like the architect of this plan. Suddenly the King stood up, and approached Nakht directly, threateningly.
‘But hear my words. The Prince Zannanza is your responsibility. You must ensure his safe passage, and his security in Egypt. If any harm should befall him, at any time, know this: our anger will overflow, our wrath will be terrible, and the Hittite army will rise up and destroy Egypt. Tell this also to your Queen, for the life of my son is in her hands.’
Nakht bowed low, and the King departed as suddenly as he had arrived, taking Prince Zannanza with him. Once he had gone, the atmosphere shifted. The Crown Prince, surrounded by his uncle and other ministers, spoke with a new, and utterly untrustworthy, warmth. He was practically dancing with amusement.
‘We are delighted, Royal Envoy. Surely your mission to Hatti has been a complete success. Your Queen will have a marvellous new husband. Egypt will have a marvellous new King. My dear brother has many fine accomplishments. He dances beautifully. He adores music and poetry.’
And then the fake smile passed from his face, replaced by an exultant grin.
‘Who could have said such a day would come to pass, when ancient enemies are suddenly united in marriage? Who would have prophesied we would master the Egyptian throne so easily? We must celebrate my dear brother’s great good fortune even as we deeply lament his leaving. Our loss, of course, is Egypt’s gain. We are sure he will be the perfect husband to the Queen of Egypt. May their marriage be blessed with many fine, strong sons who will grow into warrior kings, who will be the fruit of this charming alliance, and the future of a great dynasty.’
He laughed out loud at the huge joke of it all.
‘There is peace between our empires,’ said Nakht. ‘We are satisfied. But what of Aziru?’
The Chief Steward stepped forward, uncomfortably.
‘The necessary arrangements have been made,’ he said.
‘What arrangements?’ the Crown Prince asked, uncertainly.
‘Alas, little time remains to us to conclude our own arrangements for departure. I will leave your uncle to give you an account of our agreement regarding the troublemaker and tyrant Aziru,’ said Nakht, taking the only revenge available to him. And so, having thrown his cat among the ducks, he chose to depart; and we bowed and left them to their arguments.
Back in our accommodation, Nakht stood very still, trying to come to terms with what had happened. He was holding a drinking bowl, and sipping the water. Suddenly, in a fit of fury, he dashed it against the wall. It shattered into shards. I was shocked; I had never before seen him succumb to such fury. He was always so controlled in his behaviour.
‘I am an imbecile. Why did I not foresee this?’ he hissed.
‘If that delicate boy ever sires a warrior king, I will eat my own sandals,’ said Simut unhelpfully.
‘It is a calculated and terrible insult,’ said Nakht. ‘No wonder the Crown Prince was looking pleased with himself. I made a fatal mistake. I underestimated him.’
He began to pace, trying to think his way out of this catastrophe.
‘However, we have no choice. We must return home to Egypt with Prince Zannanza, and find a plausible way to present him to the court and the people,’ he continued. ‘Egypt has suffered greater difficulties. Tutankhamun himself was no warrior king. Nor was his father. Perhaps a quiet, artistic, intellectual Hittite noble on the throne will actually be more acceptable, and indeed desirable, than a foolish, knuckle-brained warrior. Who is to say there will not be heirs? These things can be managed, arranged…’
But he did not sound truly convinced of his own arguments.
‘Just because he is beautiful does not mean his private desires lie in … other directions,’ I said. ‘And even if they do, who is to say such a man would not make a fine King and still fa
ther heirs? The Prince seems to me noble and accomplished, and he must have had to discover the courage to be himself in a land that would hardly value his qualities.’
Nakht absorbed these words quietly. He and I had never discussed the reasons for his not having married and raised a family of his own.
‘Indeed, the Tale of King Neferkare and the Military Commander Sasenet is a story of just such a secret love,’ he said quietly. And then he glanced at me carefully.
There was a moment of silence between the three of us.
‘This is all very well, but tales of love will not help us to return the Prince to Egypt without misfortune,’ said Simut. ‘That in itself will be a dangerous task.’
‘The sooner we return to Thebes the better. Time is running out. Who knows what events may have passed in the court? Perhaps Ay is already dead…’
‘You are both forgetting something. The killer is here. Aziru is the most likely suspect, and he has not been caught,’ I said. ‘He knows about us. We cannot afford to leave this matter unresolved. We cannot afford to have him shadow us, and then attack again, outside the city, when we do not have the protection of the King.’
Nakht was about to reply when there was a loud knock on the door. It was the Chief Steward returning with the King’s instructions for our return.
‘The King considers the sea journey from Ura to Ugarit too dangerous. The currents, as you know, flow against the return journey, and risk taking the ship too close to the Alashiyan coastline. Besides, it may be known to foreign spies that you have already travelled that way, and it is bad strategy to repeat your movements,’ he said.
‘But Ura is a Hittite dominion, and Ugarit is loyal to you, so surely the King can ensure the safety of a convoy through those cities?’ said Nakht.
‘As you know, the King’s second son is Viceroy in Aleppo. Therefore a Hittite military convoy will accompany you to the border town of Sarissa, and beyond to Aleppo. We have garrisons, of course, but it is approaching winter, and our troops will be returning to the homeland. So from there, you will be on your own. But your own army is engaged in the wars there. I believe the divisions have not all retired to Memphis. Therefore you can call upon their support,’ replied the Chief Steward.
‘My lord, it is well known your eastern borders are insecure, and that the reason the King’s second son, the Prince Telepinu, has been sent to Aleppo, is to quell anti-Hittite forces in that area,’ said Nakht. ‘I mean, of course, the Army of Chaos are known to be active in that territory.’
The Chief Steward looked uncomfortable.
‘My lord Envoy, your information is out of date. Hittite authority is well established in the east. Our forts and watchtowers will provide security and accommodation. Our watchmen of the Long Road will be responsible for your safe passage. And surely you must know, according to our laws, all citizens of every locality are held personally responsible for the safe passage of all merchants and dignitaries. If any harm comes to them, then restitution must be made.’
‘That will be little satisfaction to us if we are already dead,’ replied Nakht.
‘Hittite honour is at stake in this. Such a thing is unthinkable,’ replied the Chief Steward quickly.
‘It is not only thinkable, it is also alarmingly plausible. We could not be more vulnerable, and any ill fortune that might befall us would be simply catastrophic, for both sides. I hope you understand that? I hope you understand my concern about the alarming internal discord within the royal family?’
‘The Crown Prince is reconciled. You need have no fear of reprisals,’ replied the Chief Steward. ‘And we have accomplished an agreement to create the circumstances of peace between our empires.’
‘But that will not be confirmed until the marriage is performed, and so everything remains in peril. There is great dissent among you. There is a killer here in your city and it is most likely Aziru himself. Where will he strike next? We are travelling through unstable, dangerous territory. It offers him the perfect opportunity to assassinate us. You can see my point.’
The Chief Steward nodded and shrugged, exasperated. ‘I have done my best. These are the commands of the King. For the moment, the Crown Prince has his ear. We must make the best of it.’
Once the Chief Steward had departed, we fell quickly into discussion.
‘He’s right about not retracing our steps. They will have to guard us all the way through the Hittite lands,’ said Simut. ‘And then we can travel west, and take a ship south, or join up with the Way of Horus; either will take us quickly back to Egypt.’
‘We have no choice. But how can we trust these guards? I fear some further revelation of the Crown Prince’s treachery,’ said Nakht.
‘I would like to point out that the land route takes us into territory where Egypt has no alliances, no forts, and no way stations. We will have to pass through what is essentially the noman’s-land between ourselves and the Hittites. And remember, too: the last thing we need is for Horemheb to discover us. That would be worse than meeting the Army of Chaos!’ I said.
‘The Way of Horus is probably safest. I will be able to send letters ahead of us. We can pass again for a commercial delegation, provided Prince Zannanza assents. And as for Horemheb, the war is over for this season; the Hittites are retiring to Hattusa. He has no need to waste his time on the front. He has more pressing matters at home. He will need as many of his troops as possible back in Egypt. For obvious reasons.’
We left the city the following afternoon. The future marriage had been announced, and so the processional way was lined with nobles, bureaucrats and dignitaries; our own convoy was surrounded by a troop of Hittite guards, bearing spears and axes. The King rode before us, with the Crown Prince and Prince Zannanza on either side of him. The Queen rode behind them, but at no point did she turn in Nakht’s direction. I looked around, searching the countless faces of the crowds, desperate to catch a glimpse of the Levantine face I had seen at the banquet. But there was no sign.
When we reached the Lion Gate, the King publicly embraced Prince Zannanza–but I have rarely seen a colder, less effusive embrace between father and son. Prince Zannanza turned to look back at his home, and he must have known he would never see it again. The Crown Prince slapped him vigorously on the shoulder, and whispered something in his ear that caused Prince Zannanza to stiffen and redden as if he had been cruelly mocked and cursed.
And then, deafened by the cacophony of the fanfares that followed, we were led through the long dark tunnel of the great gate. We emerged into the light. The carved lions leapt from their stone. I looked up at the crenellations of the city walls, which were crowded with people. I searched them for any glimpse of the man I had seen staring at Nakht, or a man with red hair. But there was nothing, and our path was set, our journey was only just beginning. Before us lay the dark forests, and the long, dangerous road home.
Part Four
If thou openest not the gate to let me enter,
I will break the door,
I will wrench the lock,
I will smash the door-posts, I will force the doors.
I will bring up the dead to eat the living.
And the dead will outnumber the living.
Ishtar approaches the gates of the Underworld
26
The ancient gates of the city of Aleppo opened at dawn, and we joined the throng of labourers going to the fields and of merchants and tradesmen setting off to work. We were glad to leave, for the second Prince of the Hittites, Viceroy of the City, had accommodated us with ill will. There was no brotherly love between him and Zannanza, for whom he displayed only a sneering condescension. Here also we had reached the border of Hittite-dominated territory. The Hittite guard, which had accompanied us from Hattusa, across the arid plains to the north, down through the poor villages and border towns, over the curling tracks of the cold mountain passes, dense with dark pines, and then across the plains towards Aleppo itself, would now turn back. They followed us a little way o
ut of the city, suddenly stopped, stood to attention, offered a modest salute, and then simply rode away, as if relieved of a worrisome, distasteful responsibility. During the whole journey they had not exchanged one word, or one sign of friendliness with us.
Finally we were on our own. What lay ahead of us were unknown, uncertain wastelands, which for the last thirty years had been fought over, and for much longer had been extremely perilous to all travellers. Nakht had decided to take the trade road to Hamah, about five days to the south of Aleppo, and from there turn west, to rejoin the Way of the Sea at Byblos. The Hittite Crown Prince had arranged for us to be accommodated in fort-towns along the way, and given us documents to that effect.
It was a beautiful day. We set off into the unknown, our guards jogging before and behind. The road was lined with meadows, the dew was still heavy upon the fields, and birds sang in the branches of the trees and swooped along the trickling water courses. For the first time in many days, despite the perils that lay ahead, we all felt a weight lift from us. Even Prince Zannanza seemed to be touched by the beauty and the freshness of the early morning. Nakht said something politely to him, and he nodded, and almost smiled. For the whole journey up to this point he had been sunk in a profound, speechless depression; he had barely eaten, he had drunk little, and lack of sleep circled his elegant eyes with dark rings.
We rode together, Prince Zannanza in the middle, Nakht and I on either side, Simut and his guards before and behind. Nakht tried once again to engage the Prince in conversation.
‘Queen Ankhesenamun’s beauty is remarkable. Isn’t that so? Rahotep, I was just failing to find the words to describe her grace and her intelligence. She is quick-witted, and delightful in conversation.’
‘So why has she had to beg for a husband from her greatest enemy?’ Prince Zannanza asked quietly, in perfect–if accented–Egyptian.
