by Overton, Max
"Anything of interest?" Setnakht asked.
The cook shrugged. "Depends. What are you after?"
Setnakht took another draught of thick, creamy beer, belched and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "What have you got? You know I'm interested in many things."
"One of the chambermaids has been impregnated by Samut, the Overseer of the Garden."
Setnakht stifled a yawn. "He's married isn't he? Well, it would be mildly interesting I suppose--if I was his wife. What else?"
"One of the groomsmen is blackmailing him."
"Which one?"
"Nu."
Setnakht filed the fact away in his mind. It was of no interest right now, but one never knew when a lever might be required
"And the Overseer of the Unguents has toothache."
Setnakht grunted. "Don't we all?" The tip of his tongue probed the gap in his teeth that nagged at him constantly. "Anything within the palace itself? Close to the queen perhaps?"
"The queen?" The cook stared at Setnakht before looking around carefully. Nobody seemed to be paying any attention to the two men, but he edged closer and lowered his voice. "She received the Hittite ambassador alone in her apartments."
"What? You imagine they were fornicating? If that is the best you have, I'm wasting my time."
"Did I say that is what they were doing? Besides, one of Horemheb's soldiers was with them--a man called Meny."
Setnakht hid his interest and feigned a yawn. "And why do you think I might be interested? Do you know what went on at this meeting? What was said?"
"No," the cook said reluctantly. "But after they met, the Hittite and Meny came out and ate in one of the reception areas. A servant overheard Meny say that days were now short and ask would he--I'm guessing he meant the Hittite--be able to return in time."
"Did the servant hear the reply?"
The cook shook his head. "They went into the queen's apartments shortly after and then left for the docks. A maidservant noticed fresh ashes in the apartments and scraps of papyrus."
The ambassador brought a message , Setnakht thought. Who from? The Hittite king ? "Who is the maidservant? Is she pretty? Worth questioning?"
The cook grimaced. "Not even to you. Her name is Tipall...Tipu...something like that. She's a Hittite and may have been pretty once--fifty years ago."
"Hittite? And we've just had the Hittite ambassador here. Was she present also when he met the Queen?"
"No. I doubt she speaks the tongue any longer. She's been a slave most of her life."
Setnakht sipped on his beer and gave the matter some thought. There is not much else to go on. Only three people were present and the queen will not talk. The other two have gone. Perhaps I should talk to this Tipall woman . "I'll need to talk to her in private. Can you arrange it?"
"Perhaps. I'll need to bribe the Overseer of the Bedchamber. She's one of his women." The cook chewed his lip for a few moments, calculating how much he could ask. "I'll need gold."
Setnakht laughed politely. "I think your overseer is getting above his station. I will talk to him myself."
The cook capitulated. "I will talk to him but I'll need copper at least. If he doesn't give his permission he could delay things."
"How much copper?"
"A...a deben."
Setnakht let the cook sweat for a minute before nodding his head. He knew the overseer would be lucky to see three kite of it, but the price was bearable if the interview bore fruit. He pulled out his purse and handed over several copper rings. "Fix it up now, will you."
The copper disappeared into the folds of the cook's tunic. "I'll try."
"Do more than try. Moreover, while I am waiting you can have my beer refilled. It is a hot day."
The cook ran off and presently a boy came with a jug to refill Setnakht's bowl with the thick, creamy liquid. Time passed slowly and Setnakht dozed in the shade while the activity of the kitchens went on around him. Flies found the dregs of the beer and crowded in, several drowning in the process. Eventually, the cook returned and touched the sleeping man's shoulder lightly.
Setnakht followed the cook into the palace and through corridors and rooms to a small storeroom piled with neatly folded linen. A man who displayed many signs of easy living waited there, an old and nervous looking woman standing behind him. The man stared at Setnakht, then at the cook.
"Is this the man?" When the cook nodded, the overseer went on. "Why do you want to see Tia? She is too busy to stand around gossiping."
"Tia? I thought her name was Tipall or Tipu or something. A Hittite name."
The overseer sneered. "It is. Her Kemetu name is Tia. What do you want to see her about?"
"That is my business," Setnakht said pleasantly.
"Then make it mine...or make it worth my while."
Setnakht turned to the cook and raised an eyebrow. The man, pale and sweating slightly, nodded. "I did, sir."
"You accepted a fee but now you want to renegotiate, is that it?"
The overseer shrugged. "I am doing you a favour. The least you can do is be generous in return."
Setnakht considered. A few copper kite more would not hurt his purse but the precedent could be damaging. "Yes, perhaps I could be generous. I have heard from my sources within the palace that certain small items belonging to the queen have gone missing. Things like unguents, linen, minor items really but they add up. Perhaps I should bring this to the notice of the Palace Chamberlain--or perhaps I should not. I'm undecided."
The overseer stared at Setnakht. "I haven't stolen anything."
"Then you have nothing to fear. Come User-Re," he said to the cook. "Show me to the chamberlain's office."
The overseer ground his teeth and glared. "You may talk to the woman." He turned on his heel and walked away.
The old woman grinned gap-toothed at Setnakht. "How did you know the old bastard was stealing? He always gets others to do it for him."
"I didn't, but if he is dishonest in one thing he's likely to be dishonest in others. It seems he has a guilty conscience." Setnakht sat on a pile of linen sheets and patted the pile next to him. "Sit down and rest your bones, Tia. I have some questions for you." He waited until the cook had withdrawn from the room.
Tia eyed him suspiciously but did as she was told. "What questions? I haven't done nothing. I didn't help him."
"I'm sure you haven't, Tia. It is nothing about you, really. I have a friend in the city with an opportunity to buy dyed cloth from Tyre. The trouble is that he cannot afford to hire a ship and if he tries to bring it overland, he risks losing everything if the Hittites are waging war. I heard that the Hittite ambassador was over here talking to the Queen and I wondered if anything had been said about Hittite plans. Did you happen to hear anything? Even a hint?"
Tia was tempted to lie but if this man knew so much about the overseer, maybe he also knew of her own petty thefts. With a sigh of resignation, she shook her head. "I saw him, of course, but the Queen spoke with him behind closed doors."
"So you have no idea what they talked about?"
Tia hesitated. "Well...not this time, but I can guess."
"You know something," Setnakht said with a smile. "I have a copper kite for you if you tell me."
"Show me."
Setnakht took the copper ring out of his purse and laid it on the linen between them. "What do you know, Tia?"
"She talked of the Hittites a month ago, about the Hittite king."
"Who to?"
"Meny, the soldier who travels with the ambassador now."
"What did they talk about?" Setnakht opened his purse and took out another kite ring.
Tia licked her lips. "About the Hittite king and whether he had sons."
"A strange thing to talk about," Setnakht commented. "Why did she want to know that?"
"She...she..." Another copper ring joined the two on the linen sheets. "She wants the king to send her a son to marry, to become king of Kemet."
Gods of sky, earth and wa
ter! She wouldn't. To bring in a foreign king ..."You are lying," Setnakht snarled. "Well, it won't work. I'll take you before the Chamberlain myself and accuse you of treason--saying something like that about the Queen."
"Oh, I'm not, sir, truly." Tia fell to her knees and clasped her accuser around the knees. "I wouldn't make something like that up, I promise you."
"Why should I believe you? It's beyond belief that Queen Ankhesenamen would betray Kemet like that."
Tia burst into tears, her wrinkled face screwed up in anguish. "Oh, sir, please. I wouldn't make something like that up. And...and I'm sure the Queen isn't...isn't...you know, betraying Kemet."
"How do you know this is what she talked about? Were you in the room?"
"Yes sir. Please do not accuse me, sir. I'll be dismissed from service...or worse. I didn't mean no harm, sir."
Setnakht considered the sobbing woman who still held his knees, wetting them with her tears. This could be just what Nakhtmin wants but where's the proof? I just have the testimony of an addled old woman . "I don't know whether I should hand you over to the Chamberlain or not. Malicious gossip like this should be punished..." Tia started crying harder..."But perhaps you misheard or assumed she was talking treason when she really was not. I would like to believe you. What a pity there was nobody else there who could vouch for what you say." He tilted the old woman's face upward and looked into her eyes. "Was there anyone else there, Tia?"
"No sir. Just me, the Queen and Meny."
"So there's no one to save you? Nothing to say that the conversation ever took place."
Tia's eyes wandered. "That she talked about the Hittite king? I...I got a piece of paper with Shubbiluliuma's name on it. That would prove it, wouldn't it, sir?"
"A piece of paper? Where did you get it?"
"Oh sir, you won't tell her, will you? I disobeyed when she says I has to burn everything. I kept a piece 'cause it has Shubbiluliuma's name on it. It reminds me of my old 'omeland, even though I can't read it."
"Shhh, Tia, shhh. Do not get so upset. I am sure it is entirely innocent and after all, where's the harm in having something that reminds you of your lost childhood." She cannot read it! What does it say ? "I shan't tell the Queen, but...well, there's still the charge of gossiping. I'd have to report you to the Chamberlain unless..."
"I could show you the paper, sir."
"I'm not sure there's much point if it just has the king's name on it."
"There's more sir...at least I think so. I can't read but there are lots of little pictures, though some of them are crossed out."
"I suppose I could have a look. Just as a favour, you understand. I'd feel bad if you were punished for something you didn't do."
"Oh thank you, sir. I'll go and get it right now." Tia struggled to her feet and started out the door.
"Wait, I'll come with you."
"No need sir, I'll be very quick."
"It's not that, Tia. If I see you take it from its hiding place, I can swear that it already existed. If you go away and bring it back, some dishonest people might say you wrote it to shift blame from yourself." Moreover, you might disappear and I would have nothing. I'm not letting you out of my sight .
Tia gaped and then nodded. "This way then, sir. It's in my room."
Setnakht collected up the three copper kites on the linen pile and followed the old woman. She led the way along narrow corridors in the rear of the palace to the vast servants' quarters. A girl called out a ribald remark as Tia stepped into her room with Setnakht close behind and she grinned with pleasure, her colour rising at the same time.
"Now there's a gossip," she muttered. "It'll be all over the palace within the hour."
"Never mind that. Where is this paper?"
Tia crossed to her straw-filled pallet and felt underneath it. She drew out a folded slip of paper and passed it across.
Setnakht opened it slowly; almost certain he would be disappointed. Instead, he felt the blood pound in his temples and for a moment, he felt dizzy. He looked away and took a couple of deep breaths before reading it again.
'To King Shubbiluliuma of the Hittites, from Tahemetnesu, greetings. My husband has died and I have no son to succeed him. I am told that you, on the other hand, have many sons. Give me one of your sons that I might make him my husband. I would not wish to take one of my own subjects as my husband as it would not be seemly. I am beset by enemies and need a husband by my side to rule Kemet. I am afraid. '
Amun-Re save us. The Queen means to betray us into the hands of the Hittite king . Setnakht calmed himself, concentrating on controlling his shaking hands.
"There...is not much here," he said, forcing nonchalance into his voice. "I think I can keep you out of this though." He handed the three kites to the old woman and placed the refolded paper into his purse. "You have earned the copper, Tia, but a word of warning. Do not say anything about this piece of paper to anyone. I cannot save you if you talk."
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Chapter Eight
Twenty-five days before the burial of King Nebkheperure Tutankhamen, it felt as though the vultures that had gorged on the fallen after the battle were back. The threat of violence sounded in the footsteps of two thousand men, as if dark wings beat above the thoroughfares of the city, heading for the Hall of Justice in Waset. The streets around the old palace and the great temple of Amun were deserted, the population remaining firmly indoors as they awaited the outcome of the armed confrontation taking place.
Horemheb had arrived outside the city with his three legions just after dawn and, contrary to all custom, had forced his way into the city, brushing aside the half-hearted resistance of the local Amun legion under the ineffectual command of General Psenamy. He detached the Khent-abt legion under Djeserkare to contain the Amun soldiers in their barracks and marched on the palace at the head of the Heru and Re legions.
Hednakht counselled his general to exercise restraint. "My lord, it is unprecedented that the legions should enter the city, yet not only do you do that but you march on the palace. It...my lord, it smacks of treason."
Horemheb grunted. "Your counsel is noted, but it would only be treason if the king still lived. You have seen the city is in mourning. The report of his death is correct and Ay is taking control. I will not allow that."
"Can we stop him?" Djedhor asked. "Half the Amun legion is unaccounted for and who knows what other forces he has at his disposal."
"I stopped him once before with only six men," Horemheb growled. "I can do it again, but this time he dies."
The legions entered the palace grounds and found the rest of the Amun legion arrayed against them. Nakhtmin stood in the front rank and advanced out to meet the legion commanders.
"Lord Horemheb. I did not think to see you so soon. The last I heard you were chasing rebels in Nubia."
"I oppose the enemies of Kemet wherever they are found." Horemheb scanned the Amun soldiers in their tight defensive pattern around and in the palace. "Stand your men down, son. Let us not compound your father's folly by spilling unnecessary blood."
"My men belong in the City of Amun," Nakhtmin observed. "It is your men who should withdraw from here. You are welcome to enter the palace and talk to Tjaty Ay, if that is your wish, but not at the head of your legions."
Horemheb laughed. "You think your half legion will stop me? I will enter the palace and hold Ay to account one way or the other. If Kemetu soldiers must die because of his obstinacy, so be it."
"I am sorry, sir," Nakhtmin said firmly, "But you will not enter with your men. My legion will fight to the last man and may I remind you we fight within the palace buildings. It will be hard to overwhelm us with superior numbers. Your victory will be costly."
"If that's the way you want it..."
"Sir, may I suggest another course?" Djedhor laid his hand on his general's arm. "We have the temple of Amun close at hand. A meeting under the auspices of the Hem-Netjer of Amun would be recognised by all parties. W
ho would risk the wrath of the god within his own city?"
"I would have to ask him, but I think the Tjaty Ay would agree to that," Nakhtmin added.
"Very well," Horemheb growled. "But don't be too long about it or I'll come in anyway."
Nakhtmin saluted and walked back inside the palace. He returned minutes later with Ay's agreement and an officer was dispatched to find the Hem-Netjer of Amun.
This time there was a longer wait and the four men stood around in front of the palace in varying degrees of impatience. Very little was said. The legion commanders did not want to be seen to be too friendly with the son of their general's enemy and Nakhtmin distrusted any officer of Horemheb. The sun rose high above the stone walls of the palace and reflected back in blinding sheets of light from the white-washed temple. The temperature soared and junior officers hurried out from the ranks of both sides, bearing jugs or skins of tepid water.
At last, there was movement from the temple precinct as a fat man accompanied by several slim ones, appeared on the porch. "About bloody time," Hednakht muttered. "You can trust a priest to delay."
Bakt, the Hem-Netjer and First Prophet of Amun within Waset was accompanied by lesser priests garbed in white with leopard-skin belts and shaven heads. Bakt was also hairless, but his clothing was of a finer weave and he displayed the wealth of the god on his person in the form of a massive gold pectoral with lapis and carnelian insets and gold armbands that gleamed and flashed in the bright sunshine.
"You have need of the intercession of the god, my children?" Bakt asked, his voice incongruously high-pitched for such a large man.
Horemheb scowled but Djedhor explained the situation.
Bakt nodded, his jowls quivering. "May the light of Amun-Re shine upon us all during your discussions," he intoned. "Know that his wrath will fall on any who break this agreement."
