Nahkt entered the house and climbed the staircase to the open roof area. His appointment was with the man now sitting on a long couch in a corner of the rooftop. He was being served food and wine by two young naked serving girls. He was dressed in a long, colourless gown but each of his fingers was adorned by gold and silver rings. Around his neck was a gold necklace worth more than Nahkt could possibly imagine.
‘Khonsu, you will get us both killed, what in the name of Amun are you doing?’
‘Drinking wine and eating goose like royalty. What is the matter with you Nahkt?’
He smiled at Nahkt. It was not a pretty sight. Only two teeth were visible, his gums blackened by disease.
‘You can’t display such wealth – if anyone sees you, questions will be asked. The answers won’t be welcomed by the police or soldiers.’
‘Relax priest. No-one can see me and I like to enjoy the spoils for a while, until we melt it all down.’
‘These two girls can see you – do they not have tongues?’
‘Oh yes they do but they know if they ever use those tongues in a way which does not please me, they can be removed along with their eyes.’
His left hand moved to his side and he picked up a large blade and licked the sharp side whilst staring at the younger of the two serving girls. Revulsion and fear filled her eyes. Nahkt vowed it was time to find a new business partner.
‘Do you have the plans?’ Nahkt tried to suppress his anger.
‘I have what was agreed, do you?’
Nahkt nodded towards one of his bodyguards who produced a large pouch from under his robe.
‘This is what was agreed.’
‘Agreed maybe, but no longer enough.’
Khonsu was grinning, or at least his mouth was open in what might have been a grin.
‘Don’t play games with me Khonsu, what was agreed is agreed. It’s there in front of you. Don’t make me angry.’
‘This is no game oh mighty Nahkt. What I have for you is the route to unimaginable riches. It’s worth a little more than we discussed. Let me have the pouch which is hidden under the robe of that other servant of yours. Oh my, he is such a beautiful boy – for a Nubian.’
‘Let me see what you have first,’ said Nahkt.
Khonsu leaned forward and retrieved, from under the couch, a rolled papyrus. Nahkt moved forward to take it. Khonsu pulled it away.
‘Oh no, Nahkt, like with these new wives of mine – you can look and lust after but not touch until you pay.’ He opened the papyrus roll and Nahkt could make out the drawings and the map.’
‘How do I know this is what you claim it to be?’
‘Have I ever deceived you before? This has come from the grandson of the man responsible for the tomb’s sealing, it’s genuine.’
Nahkt leaned forward to get a closer look, it looked authentic and it could always be verified later. He smiled at Khonsu and spoke briefly to the Nubian guard whose beauty Khonsu had so admired. The Nubian moved his left hand under his robe and produced a pouch, identical to the one his brother had still in his hand. He dropped the pouch on the couch beside Khonsu, who reacted instinctively, trying to catch it. As he did so, the Nubian took the papyrus roll in his left hand and passed it behind him to the waiting hands of Nahkt. In the same move he drew a sword with his right hand and almost totally removed the head of the supine Khonsu.
The scream of one of the serving girls was halted quickly by his brother’s blade. The second girl fell to her knees and grabbed the hem of Nahkt’s robe. The guard who had so smoothly dispatched the toothless Khonsu bent down and gently placed his hands on the girl’s shoulders. She tensed but then relaxed at the gentleness of his touch. Almost as a caress he moved one hand around her back to her throat and swiftly broke her neck. His master would not be happy if blood spattered his robe.
‘Search the house and bring anything of value.’
Nahkt went down the mud stairs and stood in the doorway with the precious papyrus concealed safely inside his robe. He waited as the bodyguards removed the gold and jewellery from the recently departed Khonsu and his serving girls and searched the three downstairs rooms of the house. Certain nothing of value had been left, they stood behind Nahkt. With the gold and silver well hidden, the three walked calmly, but assuredly, away from the carnage above and made their way to the home of Nahkt.
Arriving at his house, Nahkt would normally dismiss his Nubian guards. Tonight however, he wanted them near him and also needed them to accompany the newly found riches when they would be later transferred to a less dangerous place. At least, that is, for Nahkt.
He was safe here in his house within the confines of the priests’ conclave. Many guards were employed to make sure he and all other priests and senior workers were secure. However, it didn’t hurt to have extra security and sitting just inside the only entrance to his house were two muscular Kemetians, paid for personally by Nahkt, to protect him at night.
His household consisted of his wife Tawy, her son Amenemopet, who was proving to be a disappointment to Nahkt, and three servants. His house was large enough for him and Tawy to share four rooms, including separate sleeping quarters, his son had two rooms for his exclusive use while the servants shared a small windowless room at the back of the house. Nahkt had been happier when Amenemopet had been his eyes and ears in the palace as a servant, but the fool of a boy had got himself thrown out when he was overheard besmirching the King.
Nahkt had the suspicion that one of the servant girls shared his son’s quarters most nights. He didn’t disapprove of this, he himself at times, sought pleasure in the same way. The servants knew the rules, there was no possibility of marriage to one of these girls, they must keep to their own class and if they became pregnant they would have to leave and seek food and life elsewhere. He was not a king, rich enough to accommodate the bastard children of nobles and royals and could not bear the thought of crying children disturbing his peace. It was bad enough when Amenemopet was a baby. Then he had spent most of his nights at his quarters in the Temple itself, not always alone, leaving Tawy and the servants to cope with the bawling infant. He was, after all, her son.
Tonight Tawy was performing her duties as chantress in the great Temple. This was where he had first seen her when she was a young child; he had always loved going to the Temple when she was performing her songs to Amun. Her voice was beautiful and people would stop to listen when she began to sing. Many people travelled great distances by carriage, donkey or foot to the worship ceremonies in the hope of hearing her. It was a pity he didn’t think her face was quite as beautiful as her voice. This was something Nahkt could forgive as it was a great status symbol to be married to Tawy and he had gained many an advantage by being associated with her.
One of these advantages would be arriving soon.
Nahkt sat himself at his table in the smallest of the four rooms. As he entered the house one of the servant girls had run to this room and lit a myriad of candles. They didn’t light them until he arrived as candles were not cheap and Nahkt hated to waste money. The Nubians stood outside the entrance to this room. Nahkt liked privacy.
When his guest arrived Nahkt would ensure they spoke in the language used only by diplomats and foreign emissaries. The Nubians struggled to speak or understand the everyday language of the region so they could not possibly understand Akkadian.
He placed the valuables, confiscated from Khonsu, in a box and closed the lid. They would be safe for now and they wouldn’t be there for long. Taking out the papyrus roll, he opened it. He drew three candles closer so he could see better. Four small decorative models of canopic jars, were placed, one on each corner of the papyrus, to keep it from rolling shut.
What he saw made him very excited.
He heard his guest, Djoser, arriving and rose to meet him at the entrance to the room. Djoser was Tawy’s brother. He was tall but walked in a v
ery stooped manner. Nahkt had always assumed this was because he spent most of his working days in the tombs being built across the river. If Tawy was blessed with the best singing voice in the whole of Waset, her brother was the finest artist known for as long as anyone could remember. He was busy working now on two different tombs. One, for the King, under the guidance of Kha, his father, and another, under no one’s guidance, for Nahkt and Tawy.
In the King’s tomb he worked with many other artists, some good, some of lesser ability; in Nahkt’s tomb he worked alone. The exceptional quality of the work, completed so far, impressed all who saw it. Djoser was expensive. He may have been working for his sister and her husband, but he liked to accumulate wealth. Djoser didn’t seem to have much interest in wine or women. Nahkt could not understand. Djoser had wealth, his wife was dead so he could do whatever he wanted without guilt. Nahkt believed a man should not deprive himself of the joys of life. The more gold Nahkt had, the better the quality of the wine and women available to him.
Nahkt greeted Djoser, speaking to him in Akkadian. Djoser understood the conversation was to be both important and private. Years spent, as a child, at the home of Yuya, had given him an early education in languages. His parents continued his studies when they returned to live in Waset. All diplomatic correspondence between the King and the rulers of the neighbouring lands was in this language with its strange cuneiform lettering. Djoser had mastered both the spoken and written forms. Nahkt’s reasons for learning the language were not so honest. Much correspondence passed, not always legitimately, through the hands of the High Priest on its way to or from the Palace.
‘Welcome, brother. I’m sorry to tear you away from your relaxing pleasures of the evening but I think you will find it worthwhile.’
‘Don’t worry Nahkt, there is no work for me tomorrow in the King’s tomb, as they are digging another stairway, and you won’t mind if I arrive late at your tomb. It’s nearly finished and I don’t believe you will be needing it urgently. So, why have you summoned me?’
Nahkt pointed to the open papyrus. The name, written above the drawings, startled Djoser. He struggled to think of something to say.
‘The position in the valley looks feasible. It fits the rumours.’
His voice was soft, almost reverent. Nahkt assumed the hint of shakiness was down to excitement.
‘The position of the well shaft is not dissimilar from the position in the King’s tomb now. Size and depth look authentic. Nahkt, I think these might indeed be the plans to the tomb of Thutmose III, the conqueror.’
‘I was hoping you would be able to confirm this was the case. It’s what I was told, but I could never rely totally on the messenger.’
‘But Nahkt, we can’t…’ Djoser started to speak but Nahkt’s excitement was getting the better of him.
‘Djoser, do you realise what this means? It’s said the treasures buried with Thutmose exceed all the wealth now existing in the Two Lands. Even allowing for exaggeration we will be richer than Yuya, may Ammut eat his heart,’ added Nahkt, an automatic phrase coming, without thought, whenever the cursed name was mentioned by him or anyone else. ‘There are many dangers here Djoser. With one exception, up to now we have mostly raided the tombs of Nobles and Generals. This is a much more serious enterprise.’
‘What do you mean, “with one exception”?’ asked Djoser.
‘It is not entirely true that we have helped ourselves to treasure in only minor tombs,’ Nahkt explained, ‘although you’ve not always been told the whole story. Khonsu’s last expedition was in the tomb of Amenhotep I – but just the first chambers. There was no time to get beyond the well.’
Djoser felt a shiver. They both knew, only too well, that the penalties for being caught stealing from any tomb were severe. However, the cruellest of punishments, and most painful of deaths, was reserved for those stealing from, or being in possession of artefacts from a royal tomb.
Below the table lay Royal plunder. Nahkt had no qualms handing over responsibility for the artefacts to Djoser. Once out of his house they were no longer his problem. Djoser could change their appearance. No-one would be able to recognize them. Djoser didn’t share Nahkt’s confidence.
They had both seen many executions where thieves had been impaled on a stake and left to die slowly with birds pecking at eyes and bleeding flesh. Nahkt didn’t want this to be his fate.
‘We should be able to get enough wealth from this, Djoser, to keep the High Priest happy and have enough for ourselves never to have to worry again.’
Djoser’s mind was racing, internal panic confusing him. He knew he had to say something, but didn’t dare say what he wanted to.
‘I don’t know why you always give a large share to the Temple, Nahkt,’ he said weakly.
‘My position and that of your sister are an ideal cover Djoser, and the High Priest is not an easy man to keep content. The wealth I provide, he thinks from excellent cajoling of eminent, rich followers, helps to keep me in my position.’
‘I also need to tell you,’ Nahkt said, ‘Khonsu won’t be able to help this time, he, er, he met with an accident today.’
‘What kind of accident? Anything to do with the blood spatters on your Nubian friends’ robes?’
‘He was becoming a liability, he could have got us all crucified.’
The two men studied the papyrus. It showed the positioning of the tomb right at the end of the valley, directly below the pyramid shape at the top of the mountain. It was this formation in the rocks which led the Kings of the past to believe they had found a sacred place. No longer were the Kings of Upper and Lower Kemet buried in Pyramids. These had become too obvious a site for thieves and robbers. Now, kings spend their afterlife deep in the ground, in the vain hope, they were safe from disturbance.
The valley ended in a vertical face, maybe the height of ten men. The entrance to the tomb was at the top of this face, out of sight of the valley below. The burial place itself had been dug deep into the mountain.
There were twenty to thirty steps going down from the entrance, levelling out slightly although still sloping for about thirty paces. Further steps, fifteen or so, led to a shorter slope, which in turn led to the well shaft. To reach any treasure, this shaft needed to be negotiated. Not a simple task.
Across from the well shaft was a pillared hall; this should yield the first of the treasure. In the nearside left hand corner of this chamber there showed a further steep stairway leading to another slope and then the largest chamber, so big it would need many pillars to hold up its ceiling. Further steps led down to the burial chamber and the place where the sarcophagus of Thutmose would be found. There were four side chambers shown on the plan.
‘Whoever drew this plan has been in this tomb.’ Djoser was speaking partly to himself and had slipped into his everyday tongue.
‘Be careful what you say,’ Nahkt cautioned him, in the diplomatic language this meeting was supposed to be conducted in.
‘I’m sorry Nahkt, I was just musing. My concern is, whoever drew this plan may already have emptied the tomb and has hoped to make more money by selling this.’
‘You’re worrying too much. Khonsu said the plan came from the grandson of the man responsible for sealing the tomb after the burial. This man may even have been the person who designed the tomb and these drawings are from the original.’
‘Nahkt, do you know nothing about the excavation of tombs? When the diggers start a tomb they are working with an idea of the designers, not a plan. We never know what we are going to find when we start chipping away at the rock. The designer will have discussed with the King the general number, layout and function of each chamber and corridor of the tomb. However, the exact size and positioning will depend on the rock formation and ability to dig.’
Djoser had little patience with Nahkt’s lack of knowledge and it showed in his voice. He also had little enthusiasm for bei
ng involved in this particular enterprise.
‘Whoever drew this plan has seen in great detail the finished tomb. It may well be it’s as you say Nahkt, but I’ve worked in the valley almost all my life and I’m more cynical than you. The tomb may be empty.’
‘I understand Djoser, but does your cynicism mean we abandon the idea?’
‘The risks may outweigh the possible gains,’ he said, his reticence beginning to annoy Nahkt.
‘Let’s discuss practicalities.’ Nahkt was trying to defuse Djoser’s obvious reluctance. ‘Can we get past the guards?’
‘On that point you are fortunate.’
Djoser had calmed slightly.
‘Work on the tomb of Yuya has now been completed. It has been sealed awaiting the death and burials of its intended occupants.’
‘May Amun grant that be soon,’ interjected Nahkt.
Ignoring him, Djoser continued.
‘Haqwaset’s tomb is being constructed in the west valley and this tomb,’ he tapped his finger on the plan, ‘could not be more hidden from the present works and the positioning of the guards. Arriving and leaving the site should not be problematic, it can be done from the far side and there would be no need for anyone to enter the valley.’
‘I’ll start the planning then Djoser. Come and see me in three days to discuss the details. Tawy will be returning soon and I have something here I want you to deal with. I would prefer she didn’t see anything and it would be better if you were gone before she returns. I’ll give her your love and apologies for not being able to wait.’
Nahkt removed the box from under the table and Djoser’s eyes widened when he saw the contents. Nahkt thought it was excitement. All Djoser felt was fear.
‘Khonsu dropped these after his accident.’
‘The fool.’ Djoser shook his head.
Nahkt called in his Nubian guards and handed them the valuables they had already carried earlier. ‘Make sure these, and my brother, arrive safely to the west bank and I’ll see you, as usual, in the morning.’
The Awakening Aten Page 15
