The Amarnan Kings, Book 4: Scarab - Ay

by Overton, Max

  The naval vessel forged upriver, its oars thrashing the water into foam, scattering fishing boats and startling flocks of wildfowl. Horemheb stared avidly at the skeins of water birds as they wheeled and passed overhead. He itched to hold a bow in his hands again, silently gliding into the reeds on a small skiff, striking down the ducks as they exploded in to the air. When I am king , he promised himself. The army fell behind, unable to keep up, and Horemheb felt a thrill of adventure at being out of touch, albeit temporarily. He felt as if he was a scout again, likely to run into the enemy at any moment, when only his wits and his reflexes would keep him alive. He stood in the prow of the ship, his aides a respectful distance behind him, and breathed in the river air, heavy and rich with the smells it had garnered over a thousand stadia as it ran through Kemet. I have been too long in the northern deserts. I will be crowned in Waset, of course, but I will try to spend as much time as I can in these rich, wet lands .

  "My lords," called a sailor from the mast top, precariously perched. "Sails ahead. Many of them."

  Horemheb saw them and called his aides to him. "Who has the keenest eyes? Khentare, can you see a standard? Is it Ay or Paramessu?"

  "I...I'm not sure..." Khentare stared upriver. "Yes, it is Paramessu, sir."

  Horemheb signaled to the captain to pull in to the east bank and by the time the ship nosed through the papyrus and rushes to the bank, the squadron of smaller craft flying Paramessu's standard were crowding round.

  Paramessu stood up in his boat, waving both arms over his head and shouting. The boat rocked and he sat down again quickly. Moments later, as his boat grounded in the shallows he splashed ashore and started running toward the ship. "It is done sir, it is done. Nakhtmin's dead and I have Scarab with me."

  Horemheb grinned ferally and eased himself over the side of the ship, conscious of his older body. He waited for Paramessu and embraced him warmly. "You are certain? Did you bring his body with you?"

  "No sir, I had the naval vessel transporting him take his body on to Men-nefer." Paramessu saw Horemheb's expression. "Did I not do the right thing, sir?"

  "How will our men be certain he is dead? Well, never mind, what's done is done."

  "I thought the sight of his son dead might unman Ay."

  "Either that or strengthen his resolve." Horemheb shrugged. "Either way, we will deal with it. You have Scarab with you?"

  Paramessu's men brought Scarab and her companions forward. Horemheb glanced at the two Shechite tribesmen, and nodded at Nebhotep and Khu before turning his attention to Scarab.

  "We meet again, Lady Beketaten."

  "That is a name from a past life. I am now Scarab, or if that is too foreign for your tongue, then Neferkheperu."

  Horemheb smiled faintly. "I have heard that you claim the Kingdoms in your own right, with the throne name of Neferkheperu. Know that I do not recognise your claim. If you will not be Beketaten, then you must be Scarab."

  "That is all one to me," Scarab replied. "The gods raised me up, not men."

  "Do you intend to fight me for Kemet? You will not win, you know. You have no army."

  "I will not contest the throne, Horemheb. Such decisions are for the gods to make and so far, they have not made their minds known to me."

  "Good. Then you will stand beside me? I presume you are willing to fight Ay."

  "To his death."

  Horemheb laughed aloud, Paramessu and his aides joining in a beat later. "I have changed my mind - about many things. For now, it is enough that I will travel by land again at the head of my army. Scarab, you will ride with me." It was a statement, not a question, and Scarab said nothing. "Your companions will travel in the rear. For their safety."

  "I know why you do it, but it is not necessary. I will ride with you to defeat Ay and after that we can discuss the fate of Kemet."

  When the Heru legion marched up, Horemheb had horses brought and he rode at the head of the columns, astride his stallion. Paramessu rode on his right hand side and Scarab on the left, while the senior aides made do with donkeys and sway-backed horses behind them. The junior officers walked. Paramessu's mount was so small his long legs almost brushed the ground and he fidgeted, wincing whenever the horse's bony back met his posterior.

  Scarab rode a pace or two back, not out of deference, but so she could observe the two generals. Paramessu was a former lover and the father of her son. He was still strongly built and possessed a commanding presence, but as she examined her feelings for him critically, she realised love was no longer there. She cared for him, but not if he stood in her way, or blocked what was best for their son. Her eyes roamed over Horemheb for a different reason. The general planned to kill Ay and claim the throne for himself. He might be able to hold onto it if the army backed him, but his best course would be to marry into the existing royal family. Unfortunately, I am the only one left. Seventy days from the death of Ay, he will bury him and become king, legitimising his claim with a royal marriage. The question is--will he keep me alive afterward ?

  They camped that night near the river. Horemheb set out a wide-ranging perimeter, and detailed mounted scouts to advance many thousands of paces ahead, watching every possible approach route. Nothing was seen, and the army resumed its march at dawn, much refreshed. Another three days, and as many uneventful nights, brought them close to the city of Iunu. Scarab told Horemheb of her intention of worshipping at the nine temples outside the city.

  "I cannot allow it."

  "I am not asking permission, Lord Horemheb. I am dedicated to the Nine of Iunu and I will worship there."

  "I can have you restrained."

  "You can, but if you want my cooperation you will not. Give me horses for Khu and I and I will return here as soon as I have finished. I doubt very much that your army will even have passed by the city."

  Horemheb decided he did not need another battle on his hands, so he gave in. "You will have an escort--Paramessu and a hundred men."

  "As you will, but they are not to enter the Holy Precincts of the Temples."

  They left immediately, detaching themselves from the ranks of the Heru legion. The legionaries under the command of Paramessu ran to keep up with the trotting horses, but the general made his position quite clear.

  "I cannot lose you. I have twenty archers with orders to kill the beasts beneath you should you try to escape. They have orders not to harm you, but I have given no instructions that they are to avoid Khu. Do I make myself clear?"

  Scarab nodded. "There will be no attempt to escape. You have my word."

  When the party reached the great shallow basin that held the spiral path with the nine temples of the gods of Iunu, Paramessu halted his troop and they fanned out around the depression, stationing themselves within sight of the next man. Scarab and Khu dismounted and left their horses behind, starting down the great paved path that connected the holy places.

  "Don't think I don't want to be here with you," Khu murmured. "But why am I? The gods did not choose me."

  "You think not? Anyway, it does not matter, you are my friend. My most faithful friend. My lover has gone, as has my brother, and my son is taken from me, yet you remain, dear Khu. A good friend is worth much more than gold."

  Khu looked away. "I would be more than a friend," he muttered, "but I know my place."

  A woman dressed in white, crowned by the sun disc and tall plumes of feathers stepped out in front of them. "Welcome Neferkheperu, Auset, Queen of Heaven greets you." Scarab bowed her head and the woman intoned a blessing. "Auset bids you remember your promise--a daughter to raise as her priestess."

  "I have no daughter, Holy Mother. Only a son who was taken from me."

  "The son is nothing. Do not concern yourself with him for his destiny lies with his father. A daughter will be born. Bring her to the temple."

  Scarab bowed again and rejoined Khu, advancing up the stone-paved road. A man with a strange animal head stood in their path, his robes as red as the desert sands. His voice came muffled from
the carved wooden mask.

  "Set of the wild places greets you, Neferkheperu. He is pleased that you offered up your firstborn to his service."

  "I am the humble servant of the god."

  The priest of Set gave his blessing and Scarab passed onward along the spiral path, passing the temple of Nebt-Het with its image of a hawk on the temple roof, and those of Asar, Geb, Nut, Tefnut and Shu. Outside each, the priest or priestess of the god met her. They each gave a blessing but the priest of Geb was also interested in Scarab's stone eye. He ran his fingers over its surface, clicking his tongue over the scratch in its polished curve.

  "Geb can heal that too," the priest said. "Enter the temple and he will do so."

  "Another time, holy one. My duty calls me south right now."

  The priest nodded. "A lifetime is as a day in the eyes of Geb. Come when you will."

  The ninth temple, in the centre of the spiral, was that of Atum, the creator god, but no priest waited for them. The paved path ended at the temple pylons. Beyond the great pillars of the entrance lay a small courtyard and then the hypostyle hall of the temple itself. The inner columns were taller than the side ones, allowing light in under the high ceiling, illuminating the great granite hall.

  Khu stopped a few paces into the echoing chamber. "I will wait for you here," he said with a shiver.

  "Are you sure? You came in further last time."

  Khu nodded. "Yes, and you saw the god where I saw only a priest. Go on. I will wait for you here."

  Scarab walked on into the gloom of the inner temple. She remembered the way from years before, or maybe it was the god calling her, but she moved unerringly through corridors and rooms, penetrating deep into the building. She saw no one, heard nothing, and gradually the gloom got deeper. At last, she came to an arch beyond which a faint light flickered. She entered and saw rising up from the middle of the room a smoothly sloping pyramid of carved granite. Small oil lamps cast a faint illumination on the polished stone but left the rest of the room in darkness.

  "The original ben-ben," said a voice beside her.

  Scarab jumped and turned quickly. A priest in white robes with a girdle made of black bull's hide stood beside her. He walked over to the ben-ben, a strip of hide hanging down behind him swinging like a bull's tail, and ran his hands gently over the smooth surface.

  "This is the original mound of creation," he said, "Which Atum drew out of the watery void. Later, this temple was built around it. He dwells still within the mound."

  "I am honoured to be received by the god," Scarab said. "May I have your blessing, holy one?"

  "Of course, but that is not why you were summoned."

  "I was summoned? I only decided to come here as we - the army of Horemheb - were passing."

  "Nothing happens without the knowledge of the gods. Their hands lie upon you, Neferkheperu, and their feet guide your path."

  Scarab frowned. "All this was foreordained? Men and women have no choice but are instead the unwitting instruments of the gods?"

  "A sacrifice worthy of the gods must be freely offered. It was my understanding that you offered yourself to the service of the Nine many years ago."

  "Yes."

  "And accepted the gifts the gods gave you?"

  "Yes...but the gifts have left me."

  "That is outside my knowledge, Neferkheperu, but was your service given only in the hope of reward?"

  "No, holy one."

  "Then stay and commune with the god." The priest bowed toward the ben-ben and stooping, blew out the oil lamps. The chamber was plunged into almost complete darkness. He crossed to the entrance, unseen, and slipped out, drawing a hide curtain over the doorway.

  The darkness inside was now complete and Scarab could discern no difference whether her one good eye was open or shut. She knelt on the cold stone floor and waited, trying to remember what she had seen last time she had been in the temple of Atum. The memory would not come to her. It grew colder and she heard a faint sound of grinding stone from somewhere within the blackness.

  She blinked and stared, wondering if her eye was playing tricks on her, for a faint, pearly glow hung in the air. She could not tell how far away it was or how large, for it illuminated nothing. The light grew; both in size and intensity, and features appeared in the chamber, dimly seen. Scarab saw that the light sat at the top of the ben-ben mound, and that steps had appeared in the previously seamless stone. The light drifted downward, step by step, but there was none of the jerky movement seen when a man descended stairs. Instead, the light flowed like glowing water, a living liquid that coalesced into a human form at floor level.

  "Welcome Neferkheperu." The voice sounded like air blown through a reed rather than exhaled from lungs and shaped by throat, tongue and lips.

  "I am your servant, Lord Atum," Scarab murmured.

  "You are pleasing to my eyes, royal one of Kemet. Why then, is it that you spurn the gifts of the Nine?"

  "I...I do not...have not...Lord Atum. The gifts have forsaken me."

  "Why is that, do you think?"

  Scarab hesitated. How do you hide from a god ? "I don't know, divine one."

  "Yes, you do. Search your mind, remember your actions."

  She thought of Nebhotep's words, chastising her. "I took the credit for the god's gift instead of honouring the divine presence. I received water in the desert and accepted the praise of my companions. Later I came to think of Set's protection in the Amorite camp as being my own ability. Was this the reason the gifts were taken from me?"

  "Yes."

  "Can...can they be restored? I know now where I erred."

  "In time. Do you have my gift? The golden scarab?"

  "No, Lord Atum. It left me between Taanach and Gubla."

  "The gifts will be restored when you hold the golden scarab once more."

  "But it is far away. I cannot journey there to find it."

  "Then you must learn to live without it," said the god. "Go now with my blessing, Neferkheperu of Kemet, and remember the promises you made to the Nine. You are still bound by them." The light flared, blindingly, and Scarab cried out, falling backward to the floor, senseless.

  She opened her eye to find the priest bending over her. "Come, I will help you to your companion. It has been half a day since you entered the presence of the god." He helped her up and held her arm as she walked slowly out to the hypostyle hall.

  Khu ran up to her. "Where have you been? Paramessu is threatening to bring his men into the temple precincts and search for you."

  They went out into the sunshine and passed down the paved road once more, to where Paramessu and his squad waited on the border of the holy ground. Relief and anger played over his face as she approached. "Where have you been? Horemheb has sent for us this past hour. The army of Ay has come upon us and your place is in the forefront of our army."

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  Chapter Forty-One

  "See, your majesty, the enemy." Ptahwery pointed to the northeast, past the city of Iunu, where clouds of dust rose into the air, betraying the presence of thousands of approaching men.

  Ay nodded wearily. "We meet them here. Position the legions across the road and make sure my personal standards are prominent. I want every man of them to know they fight against their king." Ptahwery gave the orders to his aides and the royal army ponderously broke its order of march and formed up across the path of the approaching rebels.

  Ptahwery shaded his eyes, examining the oncoming foe. "Do you think they will attack at once, your majesty, or talk first?" The king did not answer and the general looked around. He saw Ay, pale and sweating, and shouted for the servants. They came running and eased the king off his chariot and carried him to where an awning was being hastily erected. "Your majesty, are you ill? Ptahwery asked.

  "I will be alright," Ay whispered. He sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. His right hand clutched at his chest, stroking and massaging it. "It is a hot day and I think I ate som
ething bad at midday. The fish perhaps." He winced at the pain. "It will pass."

  "Shall I send for your physicians?"

  The king's eyes flew open. "No. Not before this is resolved. Any weakness on my part will strengthen Horemheb's hand." He closed his eyes again, panting with the effort. "I have that man's measure, Ptahwery. I almost had him in the Heretic's day and I fooled him utterly when the boy died. I...I can do it again."

  "Do you want to meet with him before we fight?" Ptahwery asked.

  "Yes. The greater the delay before the battle, the more time there is for his troops to defect. Send heralds out to request a meeting. Try for the city of Iunu first - they will reject that; then for a tent in the open for all to see. The usual safeguards. Oh, and Ptahwery, send Bakt to see me."

  "The Prophet of Amun? At once, your majesty." Ptahwery hurried off to organise things, and notified Bakt that the king wanted to see him. He also told Bakt that the king was ill and should see a physician.

  Bakt shrugged. "The Peace of Amun will do him more good than any physician," the priest said. He called for a covered litter and progressed slowly up to the front line, trimming his nails as he went. The litter bearers deposited him a small distance from the king and he walked slowly and with much effort to where the king sat under his awning.

  "Your majesty," Bakt wheezed. "Ptahwery tells me you are not well. Shall I have prayers said for you?"

  "Ptahwery talks too much," Ay muttered. "However, prayers never hurt so say away. Did you bring the priests with you?"

  "As you commanded, but I cannot see the reason, your majesty. Twenty priests would be ample for your legions, not the two hundred you had me bring. You are not expecting them to fight, are you?"

  Ay smiled and sat up gingerly. "There, I told Ptahwery it was only indigestion. Yes, Bakt, your priests will fight for me, but not with swords. With words, Bakt. With the prayers of Amun."

  Bakt mopped his brow with a linen cloth and returned the damp rag to the sleeve of his robe. He settled his bulk more comfortably on his feet. "I'm not sure I understand, your majesty. You want my priests to say prayers?" His mouth twitched as if the king had made a joke and then he frowned. "The god is powerful, but if prayers were enough to conquer an enemy..."