The King's Man

by Pauline Gedge

  The day was becoming warmer. The sun was almost overhead. Huy re-entered the palace, and by asking directions from the many soldiers and servants filling the corridors, he made his way back to his quarters. Amunmose met him just inside the doors. “If you want a meal, I’ll have to take Tetiankh to the nearest kitchens so I can watch him fill your platters,” the steward grumbled. “Honestly, Huy, we might as well be back in the temple of Ra at Iunu with me still an apprentice cook and you a schoolboy! At the very least you need more staff to fetch and carry. The soldiers are complaining that they can’t organize themselves. Anhur must be replaced, and soon.”

  “I know. Send Tetiankh to the kitchens for food. You can taste it here. Talk to Chief Steward Nubti about having sealed flagons of beer sent in regularly for all of us, and see to the procuring of water yourself. I miss the estate also,” he finished as Amunmose was nodding unhappily. “In the future I’ll use the income from the poppy fields and caravans to build us all a new home. Until then, do the work I promoted you for.”

  Amunmose wheeled away, calling for Tetiankh, and Huy walked through his reception room to stand at the small open door giving out onto a garden. Several nurses and attendants were sitting in the shade of the sycamores and watching a gaggle of children playing on the grass. I’d completely forgotten about my litter-bearers, Huy thought suddenly. I suppose Amunmose sent them to the nearest servants’ cells. I’ll need them this afternoon to take me to the barracks. I must find Amunhotep-Huy. The need for his drug had begun to nag at him. Abruptly he retraced his steps and flung himself into one of the ornate chairs scattered over the floor.

  After his meal, he did not sleep. Sending Amunmose for his litter and bearers, he made his way to the main entrance of the palace with two of his guards, and this time he became lost only once. The bearers greeted him effusively. He questioned them briefly about their welfare. They had no complaints. Privately Huy wondered how he might gather every member of his household into one large apartment close to his own; their scattering was a cause for concern. The Queen had not told him anything about the living arrangements the dozens of officials had. Were they and their families all quartered in the palace, or did they have homes somewhere within the Fine District of Pharaoh, itself inside the enormous walled Ankh-tawy area comprising the temples of Neith and Ptah, the ancient citadel girded by the equally ancient White Walls, the barracks and arsenal, and the Peru-nefer docks?

  He gave the men his order. They lifted him and set off towards the canal up which he had been rowed, across the vast sweep of concourse in front of the palace entrance. Several small skiffs were moored close by. He and his men settled themselves in the boat, together with the litter. Huy told the man whose job it was to pole courtiers and visitors wherever they wanted to go that he needed the barracks. It was good to be on the water, to look ahead to the line of palms on the river’s bank and above to a cloudless blue sky, to see the rivulets of the canal sparkle under a bright sun. At the canal’s mouth the skiff turned south against the current, but it was still spring, Peret, and only the one man was needed to pole Huy slowly past the noise and dust of the portion of the city lying between the Fine District of Pharaoh and the busy river. They passed the waterway leading straight to the temple of Ptah, and were jockeyed into the last mooring space available at the watersteps leading up to Peru-nefer and the barracks beyond. To Huy’s left another canal vanished past Amun’s shrine towards the temple of Hathor, and ended at the drainage canal far behind the western edge of Mennofer. A large body of water opened out between the river and the shrine, and here many of the King’s ships were docked. The verges of the lake were choked with sailors, heralds in royal livery, and naval soldiers hurrying to and fro or loitering in raucous groups or fingering the merchandise offered on the stalls of the tradesmen loudly calling their wares.

  Leaving the skiff, Huy waited impatiently for his litter to be unloaded. The din around him, though cheerful, was trying. With a vision of the often-deserted and quiet river path between his estate and the town of Hut-herib itself, he climbed into the litter. His bearers moved cautiously through the throng, none confident enough to demand a passage for him, but once past Peru-nefer itself the crowd thinned. The guarded arsenal loomed on Huy’s right, and once past it the bearers swung that way, pacing by its wall until suddenly the huge parade ground opened out in a dazzling expanse. Across it Huy could see a row of cells and behind them, he knew, there would be many more where the King’s military and naval officers lived while on duty. He heard the whinny of a horse coming faintly from his left and presumed that the stables lay beyond yet another line of similar structures.

  Once across the hard-packed earth of the parade ground, Huy ordered a halt. “Go into any cell and find out where the Scribe of Recruits works,” he said to his nearest guard. In spite of the gentle season the sun was reflecting harshly off the dusty area around him, making him sweat. He felt exposed and vulnerable without Anhur’s solid figure standing beside him to block out not only the sunlight but also any threat. He and the other bearers waited.

  Presently the man came back and pointed. “The scribe’s cell is the one right on the nearest end.”

  Huy got off the cushions. “You two, come with me,” he ordered the guards. “The rest of you, find some shade until I need you.”

  It was a matter of a few steps to arrive at the open door. As Huy and his men approached it, a servant rose and bowed. “Is the Scribe of Recruits within?” Huy asked.

  The man bowed again. “He is. I will announce you, Great Seer. Yes, I know who you are.” He smiled. Vanishing for a moment, he quickly reappeared and ushered Huy inside.

  The cell was bigger than it had seemed from outside, the ceiling higher, the rear farther away from the entrance than Huy had supposed. One square archway led off to what must be his nephew’s sleeping room. The floor was beaten dirt. One brown reed mat covered most of it. The interior was pleasantly cool. Three spears were propped in one corner with a gazelle’s hide shield at their foot. Niches pocked the walls. In the centre stood a desk half buried in scrolls, and Amunhotep-Huy himself was rising from behind it, a startled expression on his face.

  “Uncle!” he exclaimed. “I’m surprised to see you here! I knew that you’d been summoned but didn’t expect a visit from you. Get the Seer a stool,” he barked at the servant. “Pour beer!” The man scurried to obey. Huy sank onto the stool, waved Amunhotep-Huy back into his chair, and gratefully took a mouthful of beer. “This is not an idle call, is it, Uncle?” the young man continued. “You and I never did enjoy one another’s company, but I suppose I have you to thank for my elevation from one of the anonymous scribes waiting on His Majesty to the Scribe of Recruits. His Majesty gave me the appointment in his own person.”

  “Actually, you owe your promotion to the Regent,” Huy remarked. He pushed a few of the scrolls aside and set his cup on the table. “Our whole family is enjoying her favour. We are blessed indeed. Are you happy here?”

  “Yes.” Amunhotep-Huy folded his arms. “I already knew almost every officer of every division before I took this position, and many of the common soldiers too. Being out under the sky is a great deal better than hurrying about the palace maze with a palette clutched to my chest.”

  “You look very well.” The man did indeed look healthy. His skin glowed a deep brown. Any courtier would regard the colour as proof of a loss of status, but plainly Amunhotep-Huy did not care for such niceties. His body was tight, his eyes, so like his father Heby’s in shape, were clear, the whites contrasting startlingly with the dark features in which they were set.

  “I am.” A smile came and went on the generous mouth. Generous in shape, Huy thought, like his mother’s, the placid Sapet, but not at all generous in the speech that issues from it.

  “I exercise every evening, I eat much the same food the soldiers eat, and I am moderate in my enjoyment of wines. I take no poppy even when I am in pain. I rely on more mundane remedies.”

  Unlike me,
Huy finished the unspoken criticism. You arrogant man. What do you know of my pain?

  “Your rigorous way of life agrees with you, then.” Huy managed to swallow his annoyance. “I need your advice, Amunhotep-Huy.”

  The attractive sweep of the dark brows drew together in a frown. The muscular arms were unfolded and placed on the desk. “From me, Uncle? What can I possibly do for Egypt’s Great Seer?”

  Huy ignored the faint mockery in the words. “First of all, you can remember that you and I, your father and Ramose, are tied by blood and as such owe one another respect and loyalty,” he replied. “Next to the King, of course. Do you agree?”

  Amunhotep-Huy grimaced but inclined his head. “I agree. Even if we do not particularly like our kin. Respect, perhaps. Loyalty, definitely.”

  “Good. The captain of my household guard has retired and I need to replace him with someone who will answer to no one but me, someone who cannot be bribed or coerced.”

  “So you came to me rather than Wesersatet because his loyalty goes first to the King. You need an ambitious soldier who is prepared to gamble that you will continue to rise in the King’s favour and will therefore remain trustworthy to you. I applaud your reasoning.” The young man began to drum his fingers on the surface of the table. “You have also concluded that in this matter my allegiance goes to my family first. You are correct. Let me see.” He was staring unseeingly at the far wall. Huy waited. “Someone young enough to see an appointment with you as an opportunity to rise,” Amunhotep-Huy muttered. “Older officers only imagine promotion as rising within the ranks. Someone with the authority to command. You have set me a difficult task, Uncle.” He fell silent and his hands relaxed. Huy sipped his beer and waited.

  Presently Amunhotep-Huy sighed and sat back. “You’ll have to request him from Wesersatet, but I think I know who you need. He’s a Captain of Ten in the Division of Ra. A fine soldier, popular with the troops, and not too rough to rub shoulders with his betters.” Rising abruptly, he went to the doorway. “You!” he shouted. “Fetch Captain Perti and be quick about it!” Returning to his seat, he smiled at Huy. “If you don’t like my choice I’ll find someone else, but it’ll take time and you’ll have to wait. Speaking of choice, I’ve decided to sign a marriage contract with Henut-nofret. She’s the daughter of one of the King’s Naval Troop Commanders, Nebenkempt, but he’s a noble, so it’s an advantageous match for me. Father’s pleased. He’ll be giving me a wedding feast and of course you’ll be invited.”

  Do you like her? Huy wanted to ask. Is she more to you than a rung on the treacherous ladder of court preferments? Does Heby worry about her welfare under your thumb?

  “There’s no point in asking you to See for either of us,” Amunhotep-Huy went on. “I know you would, but I’m confident about my future as your nephew, and Henut-nofret is as healthy as one of old Yey’s horses.”

  “I wish you both long life and prosperity,” Huy said politely. “Will you be building a house for her?”

  “Well, I certainly won’t expect her to live in this cell!” Amunhotep-Huy got up again and moved restlessly to the doorway. “I’ve already commissioned an architect to oversee the work. The Regent has given me a piece of land at Ta-she. Henutnofret loves the lake. She’ll be happy there while I pursue my duties here.”

  You remind me a little of Sennefer, Huy thought sadly, although you are more handsome than my unhappy attacker. Already at twenty you have a furrow of discontent between your eyebrows. Dissatisfaction has driven you from the time you were born.

  There was nothing else to say. They waited, Huy with his hands in his lap and Amunhotep-Huy pacing from wall to wall. But at last a shadow fell across the floor and a young man entered. His blue-edged kilt was grey with dust. So was his crumpled linen helmet. In one grubby hand he clutched a bow and two arrows. He was panting lightly. As he executed a short bow to Amunhotep-Huy, a few specks of dirt sifted slowly to his equally grimy feet. A pair of bright brown eyes slid to Huy, then widened. The obeisance that followed was deep and reverential.

  “Yes, you are in the presence of the Great Seer Huy, my uncle,” Amunhotep-Huy said crisply. “He wishes to speak to you. Are you thirsty? Help yourself to beer.”

  The young man nodded his thanks, showering yet more dust onto the floor, went to a shelf, took down a cup, and poured, first laying his weapon carefully by the lintel. But he did not drink. He stood still, his gaze going from Huy to Amunhotep-Huy and back again without anxiety. Huy looked him over. He was undeniably striking, with a bronzed, lithe body and even features holding an open expression of calm anticipation.

  “You are Captain Perti?” Huy said at length. He’s little more than a boy, he thought. The last thing I want to do is waste my time worrying about whether or not he’s keeping order with my guards. What is Amunhotep-Huy thinking?

  “Yes, Master.” There was confidence in the voice. “It is my privilege to command ten of His Majesty’s soldiers in the Division of Ra.”

  “Indeed. And where are you from?”

  “I was born at Het-nefer-Apu in the Anpur sepat.”

  “Do drink your beer, Perti. If there’s as much grit in your throat as you’re leaving on my nephew’s floor, you must be extremely thirsty.”

  The boy flashed a smile that lit up his face. Quickly he emptied the cup. Amunhotep-Huy indicated that he might fill it again. Perti shook his head with a word of thanks. His attention returned to Huy.

  “What military action have you seen?” Huy pressed him.

  Pride infused the answer. “When the Osiris-one King Thothmes went south to subdue the troglodytes of Kush, I marched with the division. I took five hands. His Majesty praised me and promoted me to Captain of Ten, and so I remain.”

  “How old are you?”

  A moment of hesitancy darkened the pleasant face. “I am sixteen, Master. I joined the army when I was twelve and fought the men of Kush at fourteen. My father is very poor.” He offered no other explanation for his early entry into Pharaoh’s fighting ranks. None was needed. A silence fell, broken only by Amunhotep-Huy’s loud breathing and a shouted order echoing across the empty parade ground from somewhere far beyond it. Do I offer a post to this stripling? Huy wondered. Would my nephew recommend him to me for a personal reason having nothing to do with my need? Can Amunhotep-Huy be trusted in this matter?

  “Perti, I need a captain for my household guard,” he said at length. “The King has given me permission to appoint whom I will, and my nephew the Scribe of Recruits has recommended you. Would you be willing to take up this post, and also allow me a window into your future?”

  Now Perti looked startled. “I’m not sure, Master. Your request comes to me as a blow from the heavens. I will need time to consider it. As for examining my future, I live by every precept of Ma’at and consider myself blameless under her scrutiny. I would not fear your eyes.”

  “Your speech is educated for a soldier,” Huy commented. “How so?”

  Once more that appealing smile beamed out. “It’s no secret that I am ambitious, Master. Many superior officers in the divisions are noblemen. I am well aware that I can go no higher than my speech and manners dictate, therefore I listen to my betters and learn from them so that I may rise in the service of the King. I am a good soldier and my men love me because I am always concerned for their welfare. They expect rewards as I earn one promotion after another.”

  “You are unusually frank!” Huy was intrigued.

  Perti shrugged. “Ma’at is generous towards the man who tells the truth. Besides, I do not have a nature devious enough to remember many lies. I am young, but I have learned the value of a good night’s sleep.”

  Huy understood at once. “Will you think about my offer?” he said.

  Perti bowed and set his cup back on the table. “Certainly, Great Seer. You honour me. How many guards have you?”

  “I have ten. Anhur was like you, a Captain of Ten. My guards fall over each other without direction now that he has gone.”
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  Perti’s eyes narrowed. “Forgive me for saying so, Master, but you need double that number in order to assure your safety within the palace. His Majesty allows a private guard of no more than twenty anyway. Every powerful official employs the full complement. It would be good for you to accept my ten soldiers along with me, if I choose to protect you and the commander of my division agrees to release them. I know them well, and they obey me willingly.”

  I am beginning to see why, Huy thought. You know yourself and your men, and there seems to be no tentativeness or diffidence in you. What you say makes sense. If you bring men to me who already trust you, my worries will be fewer. Providing you yourself serve me with loyalty, of course.

  “I agree. Go away and make your choice, then I will See what’s in store for you,” he said. “Bring me word by sunset tomorrow. I need someone urgently and will not give you more time. You are dismissed.” The boy bowed himself to the doorway, retrieved his bow and arrows, and was gone. “You’ve made a curious selection for me, Amunhotep-Huy.” Huy rose and faced his nephew. “I hope Perti lives up to his name of ‘Mighty One.’”

  “I’m the Scribe of Recruits, Uncle,” Amunhotep-Huy replied irritably. “I meet regularly with the Supreme Commander. Wesersatet has his eye on Perti and is only waiting for a few more years to go by before making him a Captain of Fifty. Snatch him and his men while you can. You won’t regret it. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

  “No. And I thank you. Be sure and invite me to your wedding feast.” Amunhotep-Huy also stood. His attitude did not encourage an embrace. He bowed stiffly and Huy left him, stepping onto the unforgiving surface of the training ground with relief. Behind him he heard Amunhotep-Huy berating his servant. The litter-bearers were coming out of the shade, stretching and yawning, and Huy’s guards quietly took up their stations to either side as Huy climbed onto the litter’s cushions with relief. The prospect of a dose of poppy seemed more welcoming than usual.