The Amarnan Kings, Book 4: Scarab - Ay

by Overton, Max

  Hakkan harrumphed and muttered something under his breath. Baldak however, stared across the fire at the crescent of sitting men. "Jesua, the youths look up to you," he said. "Why do you do this? Why do you follow this woman and turn the heads of our youth away from the ways of our fathers?"

  Jesua scowled but said nothing.

  Chief Anuwan added his voice to that of the Elders. "Speak Jesua. Why are you sitting over there behind Scarab instead of behind us?"

  "Scarab has been sent by god," Jesua growled.

  "Sent by god?" Baldak queried. "You have never claimed that...have you?"

  "The gods chose me for a purpose," Scarab said slowly. She pulled the hood of her cloak back and shook her head to free her locks of red hair. "Perhaps the young men of the tribe see a purpose in my presence."

  "She is god's holy one," Jesua went on. "She is the Eye of Geb."

  "Yes, we know the story of the stone, but what does that mean?" Anuwan asked. "We can all see Geb has marked her, but will that bring protection? Scarab, will you strike down the soldiers of the king with that eye? Will you kill all that oppose you?"

  "You know I will not. I have explained before that I have no quarrel with the common people, only with the man who calls himself King of the Two Lands."

  "Then I regret to say you are a liability, not an asset."

  "She heals the sick, she finds water where there is none, the gaze of her stone eye brings fear to the hearts of the unrighteous," Jesua intoned. "Praise unto god and to the pillar that upholds his holy temple in the wilderness."

  "That's a new one," Khu muttered. "She is a prophet, a miracle worker and a warrior. Now she's a pillar."

  "You stray from the path of our people," Hakkan chided. "Put your trust in god, not in man...or woman."

  "We are talking in circles," murmured an elder who had remained silent in the discussion. "We have come to no conclusion regarding Scarab's presence among us, or the danger that poses from the king's soldiers. We must make a decision."

  "You speak truly, Elder Nertan," Scarab agreed. "One of the king's spies must carry word back to Waset that I am no longer of the fold of Shechi."

  "And where is this necessary spy without whom we are lost?"

  "He watches us even now," Jesua said. "My brothers saw him at dawn, seeking out a hiding place for the day. Too far away to hear what we say, but no doubt he thinks to draw closer tonight."

  "Where?" Hakkan looked around.

  "Do not look," Anuwan snapped. "Everything must appear normal."

  "How will we catch him?" Baldak asked. "He will expect no mercy from us and will therefore fight to the death."

  "We do not capture him," Scarab said. "We put on a performance that will speak plainer than words. He will report what he sees to his masters and they will interpret it for their king."

  "How do we do this thing?" Anuwan asked.

  * * * * *

  Ankhu shaded his eyes against the morning glare of the clay pan and stared across at the sprawling Shechite village. He shivered in the dawn chill and wished that he could make a fire, but while the rocks might hide a small one, the faintest trace of smoke would reveal his presence. He knew he could not risk it so wrapped his cloak tighter about him and cursed the man who had sent him here.

  Fuckin' Setnakht. He only sent me here because I beat him at dice .

  It was a three-day trek across essentially waterless desert from the small army post of Ri-Amen on the shores of the Long Sea. Ankhu had travelled alone with a solitary donkey to carry water and food and a small amount of forage. At Ri-amen, the spymaster Setnakht had assigned his men to different waterholes along the southeastern rim of the Shechite territory.

  "They are nomadic and could be anywhere." Setnakht had sketched out a map in the dust and set down a string of pebbles to represent wells and natural water seeps. "However, they are most likely here...or here. Teti, Panamen, you will scout those out. Ipy, Hori, these ones. Ankhu..." The spymaster grinned humourlessly. "...You will travel to the Well of Sharn. Remember, all of you, we are looking for a woman sometimes known as the 'Eye of Geb' because she has a stone eye." He held up a hand as if to stem questions, but nobody said anything. "Yeah, don't ask me how or why. She is tall for a woman and has red hair. A good looker too by all accounts, but she is dangerous so do not be tempted to sample the wares even if you should get close enough. We just need to know where she is. The soldiers can do the dirty work."

  Ankhu yawned and scratched himself. The three days from Ri-Amen had been exhausting, but the donkey was safely hidden an hour away and he was in position to check this village for the woman. He had made his approach at night and he was confident no one knew he was here.

  If they did, I would be dead. Bloody savages, the lot of them .

  He had seen the bodies of men caught by the desert tribes and had no desire to get close to any of them. Ankhu rubbed his eyes and looked at the largest tent where people were starting to gather.

  What are they doing? Looks like some sort of discussion.

  Several figures sat around a small fire drinking something that steamed in the cold morning air. Ankhu scowled enviously. He watched the seated figures and tried to read what was happening in the way the men held their bodies. It was too far to read lips but Ankhu, along with the other spies in Setnakht's company, had some experience in interpreting men's thoughts from their movements.

  There is tension there .

  A few minutes more gave Ankhu the information that there were two opposing parties sitting around the fire. The older men on the far side, closest to the tent, formed one faction and the solitary man with his back to Ankhu opposed them in some way though the language of his body was conciliatory. Two men sat to one side, largely ignored by the others, but it was the group of young men sitting behind the solitary man that really interested him.

  They are priests ! Ankhu thought about this identification for a few moments. No, not priests, but men who believe in something. Look at their posture; look at the hostility to the old men. Who are they ?

  The solitary figure threw back the hood of the cloak and Ankhu gasped as he saw long red hair spill free in the morning sunlight.

  It is a woman. It is her. The so-called Eye of Geb. Here at the Well of Sharn .

  Ankhu looked back toward the rocks where his donkey was hidden, wondering at his chances of getting there without being seen. Setnakht should hear of this as soon as possible.

  She is with the Shechites after all. Three days back to Ri-Amen, two if I hurry, then another two days for the soldiers to get here ...Ankhu made a rapid count of the number of people visible and the number of tents. A hundred soldiers should suffice . He looked at his escape route again. No way of getting back there yet. Maybe after the herds leave ...

  Shouting caught Ankhu's attention and he hunkered down behind the rocks, certain he had been seen. Then he saw that the attention of the whole camp was on the group around the fire. Everyone was on their feet, shouting and gesticulating. Two of the young men...the believers ...strode forward, threatening the older men, who drew curved daggers in response. The red-haired woman ordered the young men back and faced her opponents. They talked more quietly now, but Ankhu could read the tension in the air...and something else, but what? ...before the woman abruptly turned and walked away. The two men who had taken no part in the discussions hurried after her, and a few minutes later the young men followed.

  What is happening? What is she doing ?

  The woman walked toward the trail that led north and stopped at the edge of the camp, where she turned to face the older men who had followed her at a distance. The rest of the men, and the women and children hung back, showing mixed signs of relief, bewilderment and sorrow.

  "...cast out...leave...regret...your actions..." Fragments of the woman's words carried to Ankhu. He saw her stoop and remove her sandals. She straightened and clapped the soles together loudly, the puff of dust obvious to the watcher.

  She is removing the d
ust from her sandals--a formal renunciation of her associations with the tribe. Gods of the Two Lands, she is leaving the Shechites. Do I carry this news to Ri-Amen or do I follow them to see where she is going ?

  The direction the little band took decided Ankhu. They were heading deeper into the desert wastes. There was no certain water in that direction and he had just enough to get himself back to Ri-Amen. He hoped their water bottles were full, but he doubted it. They had not stopped at the well on their way out.

  Perhaps it is for the best. They might die out there, and then all the king's troubles would be over . Ankhu settled down to wait out the day. When the evening cool arrived, he would find his donkey and head back to report the good news.

  * * * * *

  "Do you think it worked?" Khu turned and looked back at the Shechite encampment, now no more than an indistinct smudge in the rocky desert.

  "It looked convincing to me," Nebhotep replied, "And I knew what was going on. If there really was a spy watching, he'll have been fooled."

  "There was one," Jesua said. "Do not doubt me, outsider. I do not lie."

  "Enough, Jesua," Scarab said. "He did not doubt you; he just failed to see the spy in the rocks."

  "Even so, he is an outsider and should be taught that we of the desert speak the truth." Jesua fingered the hilt of his curved dagger. "I will teach him myself."

  Scarab stopped and faced the young man. The other tribesmen stood watching, uncertain as to how they should react. "These two men--Khu and Nebhotep--are under my protection. Any man who disputes that will face my wrath. Is that understood?"

  Jesua scowled and then nodded. He clenched his right hand and put it to his breast. "I hear you, Eye of Geb. Your word is law."

  "Then take their hands in friendship and name one of your company to each, to act as protector and guide, just as you are to me, Jesua."

  Jesua held out his hand and gripped Nebhotep's, and then Khu's hand firmly. "You are of the Company of the Pillar, a warrior of the desert. I assign Salom to act for Khu and Terrik to act for Nebhotep." The two men stepped forward and saluted Scarab, then Jesua, and lastly the men given into their charge.

  The little party of eight set out again, Scarab and Jesua in the lead. The two men without guard assignment, Ruel and Jazer, brought up the rear. Jesua set a fast pace, and for a while Khu and Nebhotep found it hard to keep up. Their assigned companions took their packs in addition to their own, however, which enabled them to match the tribesmen stride for stride.

  They mostly walked in silence, heading slightly east of north, into the deep desert. Khu moved up close to Salom. "What was that about a pillar?" he asked.

  Salom considered the question for a few moments. "We are the Pillar. The Company of the Pillar."

  Khu now thought about this for a dozen or so paces. "Why a pillar?"

  "A pillar is sacred," Salom replied. "It supports the temple of god."

  "Just that? Jesua said a 'warrior of the desert' also."

  Salom marched in silence so long Khu was afraid he had offended him somehow. At length, the desert man turned and pointed far off to the north. "What do you see?"

  Khu stared. "A whirlwind, a dust storm?"

  Salom nodded. "A pillar of god. See how it holds up the very sky where god lives."

  "That is what you call them? We Kemetu think they are demons sent by Set."

  A ghost of a smile crossed the tribesman's face. "To our foes, we are the demons."

  "But why should your enemies think you and the whirlwind are the same thing?"

  "Look above us, city boy."

  Khu looked up and saw a cloud of dust from their passage hanging in the still air above them. He tried to imagine what their dust cloud might look like from a distance. "I'm not a city boy," he muttered. "I grew up on a farm."

  Salom snorted. "A river farm is more like a city than like the desert. You are soft, like most Kemetu. We shall have to toughen you up if you are to survive."

  Jesua turned from his position at the head of the column. "No more talking. Save your strength. We have a long way to go."

  In silence, the party of eight hurried on, entering the deep desert where sand and sun ruled, and few people ventured. As the sun climbed to the zenith, the moving dots that were people wavered in the rippling air and disappeared from sight.

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  * * *

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Nakhtmin studied the reports from his spymasters at great length and even brought some of them in for interrogation. In particular, he demanded the presence of a man called Setnakht, who controlled the king's agents east of the Great River and along the shores of the Long Sea. What he heard had him calling for horses and a small squad of mounted soldiers to accompany him on the long trek from Men-nefer to Waset.

  The ride was arduous but made a little easier by the presence of a string of army-controlled stations along the Southern Road where fresh mounts could be obtained and hot food and soft beds made available for the king's messengers. The journey still took seven days though, and Nakhtmin fretted through every waking hour. He demanded an audience with the king the moment he arrived in Waset and burst into his father's rooms in the old palace, unwashed and exhausted, the dust of his travel caked on his sweaty body. The king was partaking of a light lunch with his treasurer Maya after a morning attending to the business of governing Ta Shemau.

  "I have found her, father. Without a doubt."

  Ay signalled Nakhtmin to silence and motioned for the slaves and Overseer of the Lunch to leave the room. When the door closed behind them, Ay examined his son with a slightly distasteful expression, his nose wrinkling at the acrid stink of old sweat. "Perhaps you wish to refresh yourself first. I'm sure the news will keep another hour."

  Nakhtmin bowed. "If that is your wish, your majesty. I will have the archivist bring maps for the Peninsula of Sin while I bathe. You will need to see the region before we send an expedition."

  "Yes, yes. Do as you see fit." Ay waved his son away and turned back to his interrupted meal.

  "You will send a military expedition to the land of Sin?" Maya asked. "For the princess?"

  Ay regarded the other man suspiciously. "What do you know of this? And how did you hear of it?"

  Maya's eyes flickered with uncertainty. "Your majesty, you told me yourself of the need to find the princess Beketaten."

  "I did? Ah, yes, that is right, I remember now. You have not told anyone else?"

  "No, your majesty."

  Ay nodded and picked at the carcase of a duck. He sucked grease off his fingers and glanced at the treasurer. "Go on. You were telling me about the accounts for stone from the quarries at Abu."

  "I had finished that, my lord...if you remember. Er, there is another matter. One that pertains to your...er, son. If indeed you intend to send soldiers to Sin, the expedition will have to be carefully planned. I think, with a little creative accounting, we can have the governors of the sepats between here and the Long Sea pay for at least the food for the men. Let me send for one of my scribes so that he can take down the details."

  "Can he be trusted?"

  "Oh yes, my lord. I pick my scribes most carefully."

  Harkhebi the archivist arrived, his assistant carrying a number of scrolls. While Harkhebi set out the maps on a side table, unrolling them carefully and smoothing out any creases in the paper with a loving hand, the treasurer took the archivist's assistant aside. He sent him off with instructions to send scribe Sanehet to the king's chamber immediately, with a fresh palette and papyrus.

  The archivist finished his task, bowed and indicated the maps on the table, where the corners of the papers were anchored with small polished stones from a small sack he had brought. "The Peninsula of Sin, my lord king, or as the natives like to call it...Sinai. I took the liberty of bringing adjoining maps so you could see..."

  "Yes, very good. That will be all. Leave us now."

  The archivist bowed again and departed, though he clearly
did not like to leave his precious maps behind. As the door closed, the scribe Sanehet arrived with his palette of inks and several scrolls of fresh papyrus in a rushwork basket. He bowed to his master the Treasurer and then prostrated himself before the king. Ay waved the man away, a touch of irritation showing in his face and Maya instructed the scribe to ready himself to take notes.

  "Where is my son?" Ay asked querulously. "Why is he not here?"

  "Your majesty, he is cleaning himself after his journey."

  Ay grunted and scowled, playing with one of the polished stones holding down the corners of the map. "He should be here, where he is needed."

  Maya decided not to pursue the subject. The three men waited with varying degrees of patience, and soon the doors opened to admit Nakhtmin. The young man, washed and dressed in a clean white kilt of the finest linen, anointed with perfume and adorned with gold, advanced and knelt before his father.

  "My lord, I am delighted to see you in such good health."

  "Where have you been, my son? I have received news of the whereabouts of the young woman we seek. We must make plans to capture her."

  Nakhtmin frowned and glanced at Maya, who shrugged slightly and said nothing. "Yes father." He rose to his feet and moved across to the map on the table. "Perhaps I could start by telling you what I know?"

  The king nodded and Nakhtmin studied the map for a few moments, orienting himself with the features inked on the papyrus. "Here," he said, tapping the paper with his forefinger. "Here is the territory of the Shechites. The woman known as Scarab has been seen here."

  Maya waited for the king to comment but when he did not, cleared his throat and spoke. "She has been seen in many places, Lord Nakhtmin, even here in Waset. What makes you place reliance on this report?"

  "My agent in this district is reliable. Setnakht is his name, and he keeps his spies on a tight leash. He does not allow any relaxation of discipline. If he says she is here, I believe him."