by Overton, Max
The king's eyes narrowed. "You seek to be king, do you?"
"We discussed this, father. You agreed I would help you with your duties and it would be a way for me to learn how to rule. If you were to die suddenly..."
"That's the way of it, is it? You seek to supplant me today and see me in my tomb tomorrow." Ay pointed a shaking finger at his son. "I can see right through your plans. Guards, guards, to me!"
Nakhtmin knew there were no guards within earshot and even if there had been, most of them took their orders from him now, not the king. However, this was not the time to assert himself. He fell to his knees in front of the trembling old man and held out his arms in supplication.
"My lord king. I have no designs on your person or your kingdom. If, through our discussions, I have given you that impression, I humbly ask your pardon. You are my father and I honour and cherish you. May you live a million years and continue to rule wisely for every one of them."
Ay grimaced and gestured to the kneeling man to get up. "Yes, yes, of course you are my dutiful son. Who has said otherwise?" He pushed the empty beer bowl to the ground and patted the bench beside him. "Come, sit beside your old father and tell him how your expedition to the Land of Sin went. Who were you looking for?"
Nakhtmin sighed and sat down. He told his father the story of his expedition again, though he did not go into detail this time.
Ay listened attentively, asking questions and making comments; giving every appearance of someone in charge of their faculties. "So Scarab is dead?" He waved a hand dismissively. "I know she was captured by the Amorites but they will have put her to death by now. What possible use could they have for her?"
"Indeed, sir, not damaged as she is."
"You are a good son," Ay said, patting Nakhtmin on the knee. "I should reward you. What would you like? Gold? Land?" He winked. "Slave girls? You are already Tjaty and Crown Prince. What more can you have?"
Nakhtmin pondered. Is he toying with me? Has he forgotten his outburst of a few minutes ago ? "Your pleasure is reward enough, father."
Ay laughed. "Do not dissemble, my son. You want to be king, don't you?"
"When it pleases you to raise me to your side. Until then, I am your obedient servant."
"Well, I have it in mind. I am getting old and it would be good to have someone lift some of the burdens of government from my shoulders."
"When were you thinking of doing this?" Nakhtmin asked cautiously.
"Soon, very soon. I have one more task for you first. Scarab may be dead but there is another who must be removed before I will feel truly safe in handing over the Kingdoms."
"Who, father?"
"Horemheb, Overseer of the Armies of Kemet."
* * * * *
Jebu had withdrawn the Amorite army north when Paramessu's Heru legion returned. Although he still surrounded the shattered remnants of the Northern Army, he knew the presence of fresh, unvanquished troops behind him meant he ran the risk of losing everything he had gained. He ordered his troops to collect the right hands of every Kemetu corpse and then withdraw into the hills of southern Kenaan. Paramessu did not pursue them and ordered a withdrawal of his own, pulling back the decimated army to the protection of the forts while the Heru legion under Djedhor took up station on the border.
Sihon and his captives made contact with the main Amorite army a day after the withdrawal. He had guided his chariots on a circuitous route so as to avoid Paramessu's legion as it hurried north again from the deserts of Sin. Jebu ordered them into his presence in a temporary camp in the foothills, curious as to the identity of this Scarab and why he was the object of so much attention.
"You say the woman is Scarab?" Jebu asked Sihon. "Not the man?"
Sihon nodded. "He said he was, but the woman contradicted him. I thought it best to bring them both back."
Jebu walked around the two captives, looking them over carefully. They looked disheveled but calm, staring back at him without fear. No, that is not quite right. He shows fear though he controls it, but she shows none. Why? She must know the fate of woman captives .
He peered closer at the woman. She was beautiful once--still is, if one could disregard the scars. Perhaps in the dark ..."What is your name woman?"
"I am called Scarab."
Jebu thought about her answer. She had actually avoided his question but the reason for that would come out in due course. There was a mystery here. "Why are you called Scarab?"
"My brother gave me that name when I was a child because I played with the dung beetle. Who are you?"
"I am Jebu, General of the Amorite Army, servant of King Aziru. Why are you so important?"
"I have heard of you, Jebu. Why are you so important?"
Jebu frowned. "I am the spearhead poised to transfix Kemet. I am important because I have just destroyed your Northern Army, the only thing standing between my king and the conquest of Kemet. You must have known that, so what was the point of your question?"
"You destroyed the Northern Army? General Paramessu?"
"He escaped, with his tattered legions. Now answer me; why are you important?"
"I don't know. Who thinks I am so important?"
"You had two legions out searching the desert for you--General Nakhtmin and General Paramessu. That is many resources expended for a woman. What did you do that provoked them so?"
Scarab smiled. "Perhaps you should ask them."
"I am asking you. If you have truly heard of me you will know that I can be quite persuasive when it pleases me." Jebu peered into the woman's face, noting the closed right eye. "You have been ill-used, Scarab. By whom?"
"The one who calls himself king of Kemet."
"Why did he not just kill you? Or is it that he wishes you to live with a scarred face? I can see that that would be devastating to a woman."
"We are not all shallow creatures, General Jebu. I am what I am, and no man can take that from me."
"A spirited woman. Is that what happened? You would not relinquish your virtue to King Ay? Why, though, would he send a legion in pursuit of you? In addition, why would Paramessu seek you? He is Horemheb's dog, not Ay's."
Scarab smiled again. "Why don't you tell me?"
Jebu considered her question. "You took something of value from Ay when you fled the palace. He wants it back. Paramessu knows you have it and wants it for himself. You do not have it on you, so you have hidden it. Am I right?"
"Not even close, General Jebu."
Jebu yawned and turned away. "Well, the problem is not sufficiently interesting to pursue. Sihon, take Scarab away and hand her over to the men. I'm sure they can put her to good use."
Sihon gestured to a guard who took Scarab by the arm. "What about the man?" Sihon asked.
"Why should I care? Take him out and kill him."
Another guard reacted immediately and prodded Khu with his spear. "Outside," he growled.
"No," Scarab said. "I will not let you harm Khu. Stand away from him."
Sihon laughed. "You won't let him, eh? Go on, take them out."
Scarab shook herself free of her guard and flitted across to where Khu was being ushered out of the tent. She pushed his guard aside and stood in front of her companion.
"General Jebu, call off your men. I will tell you what you want to know in exchange for my friend's life."
"You may tell me, but I will judge whether it is worth a life. No Kemetu man or woman commands me."
"And no man commands me."
Jebu shrugged. "Then neither of us gets what we want. Sihon, restrain the woman." Immediately, Sihon and a guard pinioned her arms. Jebu turned to the guard standing by Khu. "Take your dagger and kill this man right here, in front of her."
"No," Scarab said sharply. "You will not."
The man hesitated and Jebu nodded. "Do it. Now."
The guard drew his dagger and stepped forward, his arm swinging back for the thrust. Scarab opened her right eye and looked directly at the guard threatening her friend's life.
"Mighty Set, Destroyer and Lord of Chaos, turn back this evil. I call on your gift through the Eye of Geb."
The guard turned his head toward Scarab even as his hand started forward. He saw the golden stone eye blaze out in the woman's face and he flinched, turning away. The blow missed and the guard staggered back. He stared at the stone eye, his mouth open. Then he made a low mewling noise in his throat, reversed the dagger in his hand and thrust it deep into his own chest.
"What in the name of holy Marduk...?" Jebu stared down at the body of the guard, then up at the transformed face of his captive. "What did you do to him? How did you do it?"
"I did nothing," Scarab said calmly. "The god Set struck him down."
"Set?"
"He of the red desert, of the hot winds and violent death."
"But you commanded him. I heard you."
Scarab smiled coldly. "You will not threaten my friend again."
Jebu grimaced. "No. What is that in your...your eye?"
"That is a gift from the god Geb."
"He also does your bidding?"
"The nine gods and goddesses of Iunu have seen fit to allow me to call on them in times of need."
"Who are you?" Sihon muttered. "What are you?"
"A good question," Jebu agreed. "Am I supposed to be in fear of my life now?"
"I don't know. Are you afraid?"
Jebu thought for a minute and then beckoned to one of the guards. He whispered in the man's ear for a few moments and sent him off. "How powerful is this gift of yours? I saw you turn back a dagger blow, but could you do the same with an arrow once it was released from a bow?"
Scarab shrugged. "Again, I don't know, but it is the power of the god you question, not mine. I would not want to take that risk."
Jebu allowed himself a small smile. "I am glad you said it, Scarab, for the risk will be yours."
"What do you mean?"
"I am going to have to think about what advantages or disadvantages your presence imparts. Ponder on the uses I can make of you. I do not want to lock you up--in truth, I do not want to even attempt that. Therefore, in the meantime, you have the freedom of my camp. You will not step beyond the perimeter, you will not speak to my men unbidden, nor will you interfere with the duties of any of my men."
"Could you, in fact, stop us leaving your camp, General Jebu? You have seen the power of my gods."
"An interesting question, and one I would rather you did not put to the test. I don't mind losing a few more men like this one..." Jebu nudged the dead man with his foot. "...But I would rather not lose you just yet. I have a feeling you might be valuable."
Scarab smiled again. "I will consider your request."
Jebu nodded. "Do so carefully. I have instructed archers to follow you at a distance, to remain hidden where possible. If you attempt to escape, they have orders to loose their arrows. It is possible your god can interfere with the flight of one but maybe not several arrows at once. If it happens that your god is that powerful, I will resort to having you bound and gagged. Do you understand?"
Scarab inclined her head, closing her right eye again. "I understand, General Jebu. I will give your words serious consideration."
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* * *
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Taanach, capital city of the Amorites, shivered in a winter chill. Cold winds swept down from the hills carrying a shimmer of snow from the peaks and spreading a fine layer of dust into every building in the city. The populace boarded up their homes and places of business, filling the chinks in wood and stone with rags or mud, and lighting fires to ward off the cold. People flocked to the temples in the winter, partly because it was wise to placate the gods and pray for a return of warm weather; and partly because the priests kept the fires of sacrifice stoked, making the temples the warmest places in the city.
King Aziru remained warm too, wearing richly embroidered woolen garments and keeping the hearth fires blazing throughout the palace. He paced in front of one such fire in the antechamber of his private quarters, his feet crunching softly on wind-blown grit. He scowled as he walked, not because the news he had was bad, but because that was how, for him, the world was structured.
"Who is this woman Jebu is besotted with and why should it concern me?" Aziru asked, addressing none of the other people in the room in particular.
"He should stop pestering us about the bitch," declared a young man with dark hooded eyes. He glanced at the king and then at the Hittite ambassador as if hoping for praise. "No doubt he keeps her to warm his bed, but why should we have to hear about it?"
Aziru halted and glared at the young man. "Keep silent until you know what you are talking about. Ashraz, you always know what is going on. Enlighten the crown prince as to the meaning of this woman."
Ashraz, the Amorite Captain of Security bowed to both men. "Your majesty King Aziru...your highness Prince Abi-Hadad...it appears that General Jebu is responsible for two great victories."
"Two?" asked the Hittite ambassador. He fingered the oiled curls in his dark beard as he spoke. "I heard of the destruction of Kemet's northern army, but the other victory eludes me."
Ashraz bowed again, but made his action slightly less respectful. "Ambassador Mutaril, I refer to the capture of the woman known as Scarab."
"I fail to see how any woman can be that important," Abi-Hadad said. The crown prince had, for many years, been far removed from the line of succession, but the premature deaths of three older brothers and the implication of another two in an assassination plot, brought him to this dangerous position. He was skilled in the ways of the council chamber, having held a variety of minor posts, but he was mostly renowned for his ability in the bedchamber. He had known a number of women but believed them only good for pleasure and the begetting of children. How this Kemetu woman could be considered important was a mystery. "She's not even beautiful, is she?"
"She was once, your highness," Ashraz said, "But that is of no concern, as you so rightly point out."
"Get on with it," Aziru growled. He started pacing again.
"Yes your majesty. As you know, one of my jobs is to collect information on friends and enemies alike, sifting and interpreting the facts to determine where dangers lie and where opportunities may arise. I have agents - spies if you will - in many courts and in the households of several of the more important nobles of seven nations..."
"Are you telling me you have a spy in the Hittite court?" Mutaril asked, his brow darkening.
"Of course not, Ambassador Mutaril," Ashraz replied. "The Hittite king is our friend and ally. Such an act would show gross disrespect."
Mutaril knew the spymaster was lying, but could not dispute his statement without implying his own mistrust of the Amorites. He grunted and turned his attention back to his wine cup.
"Now, where was I?" Ashraz continued. "Ah yes, among the places I have had a spy is the old palace of Waset in Kemet. My man is not highly placed, so could not report back on the king or senior ministers, but he kept his eyes and ears open for gossip among the servants and slaves."
Abi-Hadad yawned and looked around for the wine. "How is the chatter of servants important?"
"There was talk of a young girl called Scarab in the time of King Nebmaetre Amenhotep."
"Scarab...or Khepri as I think their outlandish language has it...is the name for their dung beetle god," Mutaril observed. "It is a strange name for a girl."
"Indeed, yet here we have, some twenty-five years ago, a girl called Scarab and now a woman of about thirty, also called Scarab. Coincidences do occur, but when they do, it is often through the actions of the gods."
"You think they are the same person?" Abi-Hadad asked.
"Yes I do, for that is not the only time the name Scarab has cropped up. I have a record of a girl aged about twelve years, named Scarab, who accompanied the old queen Tiye to Akhet-Aten at the time when that strange king Akhenaten held a festival. This Scarab did not return to Waset with the
queen but stayed on in Akhenaten's court as one of his daughters."
"Really?" Mutaril raised his bushy eyebrows in surprise. "Is that the sort of thing a Kemetu might do?"
"It is not unknown," replied Ashraz, "But only with a relative. This tells me that the girl Scarab was related to King Akhenaten. The name she was most commonly known by at this time was Beketaten."
"Where is this all going?" Abi-Hadad asked. "Are you telling us the Scarab girl was a by-blow of this Akhenaten? A girl spawned on the wrong side of the blanket?" He shrugged and poured himself another cup of wine. "A bastard girl is no use to anyone. Well..." he grinned. "...Almost no use."
"I did not say she was illegitimate."
"True born?" Mutaril asked. "Of Akhenaten? Why were her early years in Waset then?"
"Because her father lived there. I believe she is a daughter of the old king Nebmaetre Amenhotep, and thus sister of Akhenaten and his short-lived successors Smenkhkare and Tutankhamen."
"But there are no surviving women of that line, nor men either," Aziru objected. "I know you told me this before but I cannot accept it. If Scarab was truly who you say she is, Kemet would be raging under a civil war. It is not. Ay rules quietly from Waset."
"Kemet seems quiet on the outside, your majesty, but it simmers like a pot of stew on the kitchen campfires. Ay's heir is not of his loins, being adopted. Nakhtmin's position is anything but safe, particularly if a royal woman still exists. Any man marrying such a woman could stake a claim to the throne of Kemet, particularly if he had the backing of an army."
"You are giving me an idea," Abi-Hadad said.
"It would not work," Ashraz said with a smile. "Every Kemetu would unite against you as a foreign invader. However, there is one man it would work for very well--Horemheb."
"Why him?" asked the crown prince.
"He is the most powerful man in the country; more powerful even than the king."
"Then why does he not just take the throne?" Abi-Hadad asked. "That is what I would do if...if..." He stuttered to a halt as he realised how his sentiments might sound to his father the king. "I...I did not..."
