Amunmose’s eyebrows rose. “A reprieve?”
“For you, not for me. I’m to tour the sepats with Vizier Ptahmose. If the gods smile on me, I’ll manage a day or two at home.” The word felt strange on Huy’s tongue as he dismissed Amunmose. Could it be that in spite of my dislike of the palace, it’s truly becoming my home? he wondered. He heard Paneb’s polite but authoritative voice as the scribe was admitted, and presently the man approached. Huy bade him a good morning, outlined the tasks of the day, and they both settled down to wait for Sarenput’s return.
Minister May’s office adjoined those of His Majesty’s other administrators, but it was larger than any Huy had seen, and at first glance the space appeared utterly disorganized. Scrolls and clay tablets lay piled everywhere, and in order to greet him, May wove a course between them.
“Great Seer!” he said cheerfully with a bow. “It’s my pleasure to welcome you to my domain. Pay no attention to your surroundings. My scribes will arrive soon to take everything to the palace archives, and then we start again. Correspondence between His Majesty and Egypt’s vassals is regular and copious—I mean, between the Regent and the vassals in the King’s name, of course. His Majesty signs the letters. He comes here and listens to them and to the replies every morning. He is most anxious to open trading negotiations with the foreigners who are not yet under Egypt’s sway. Not yet.” He smiled widely. “I do have a stool by my desk somewhere, and my servant hurried to bring cheese, bread, and beer once Sarenput acquainted me with your desire. Incidentally, Sarenput is more intelligent than he seems on a first meeting. He has been all over the empire on His Majesty’s business and can answer many of your questions.” He had been lifting an armful of scrolls to reveal a chair. He indicated it to Huy with another bow and edged his way around the desk to pull a stool close to Huy as the latter lowered himself gingerly and Paneb carefully made himself a place on the floor for the mat he had brought. “Neither His Majesty nor the Regent will be joining us today.” May sat down on the stool. “Queen Mutemwia sent me a message telling me to expect you instead.”
At the sound of her name, Huy felt his heart give one large thump before resuming its usual rythmn. Stop this, he said silently. I will not allow it.
May waved at the food and drink on the edge of the laden desk. “Please help yourself, Great Seer. Now, where shall we begin?”
“I think with the vassal states and the strength of their attachment to the Horus Throne.” Huy poured beer, passed a cup down to Paneb, who had already prepared his palette, and then poured for himself. The brew was very dark and tasted sweet. Date wine. She forgets nothing, controls everything, he thought both admiringly and grimly. I have no hope of an independent life—not yet. Neither does Amunhotep. We are both her willing tools in her plans for Egypt’s future.
May was nodding, his fingers linked under his ample stomach. “Good. First we will consider our relationships to the east. You know of course that the Horus Road runs directly through Rethennu, our nearest eastern neighbour. Rethennu was conquered hentis ago, and our hold on it renewed most notably by the Osiris-King Thothmes, the Third of that name. The princes of Rethennu’s cities have been paying us a handsome tribute year after year. Beyond Rethennu we exact tribute from Canaan, Apra, and Amurru, mostly precious woods, metal, livestock, and workers of various kinds. The natives are expected to provide soldiers for our garrisons. I would rather see them manned by loyal Egyptian men. Egypt has governors in these areas who make regular reports to me and thus to the Regent. Incidentally, Huy, the Horus Road is garrisoned along its length in order to monitor the traffic of foreigners in and out of Ta-Mehu, but the Queen has become concerned that the commanders of each of the strongholds are less vigilant than they should be. After all, we have been at peace with the east for some time now.”
So that is at least one reason why Mutemwia wants me in the Delta, in Ta-Mehu, Huy thought fleetingly.
May helped himself to a piece of brown goat cheese and put it in his mouth. “Further east we enter Zahi and Shinar,” he said once he had swallowed, “and then we come to two mighty rivers within whose arms we deal with several provinces lumped together under the name Naharin. They are Mitanni, a power that we treat at present as an equal, and Katna, Niy, Kinanat, Senzar, and Nukhashshi, tribes of no consequence, although we watch them in case Mitanni attempts to enlarge its holdings by appropriating them. I forgot to mention that Amurru and Byblos are often at each other’s throats, and each writes to the King demanding troops to aid in their quarrels with one another. The Regent has been providing soldiers to both Amurru and Byblos. In her letters to the chiefs she stresses her concern that there be peace between them, but of course she instructs her commanders to maintain a balance between the two tribes.”
He took a hearty swig of beer, and at that moment five or six men darkened the door, bowed to both Huy and May, and began to place the scrolls and clay tablets in reed baskets with a care that told Huy how well they knew where each would be stored.
“Far to the northeast we find the Khatti,” May continued. “So far all we know about them is that for hentis past they have been nothing more than warlike barbarians, but our spies tell us that a chief calling himself their King is trying to organize both a viable army and a feasible government. They care for no one but themselves, and must be watched. Do you read and write Akkadian, Huy?” Huy shook his head. “It would be as well to learn it if you are to keep your finger on the pulse of Egypt’s foreign dealings,” May pointed out. “Akkadian is the accepted language of diplomacy, trade agreements, any business conducted between the nations. Besides, the Regent wishes you to do so.”
“She does? So it’s not enough for me to receive regular reports from you?”
May shrugged. “Apparently you are to appear here every morning at the same time as His Majesty and the Regent, and listen while the information flowing in and out of this office is dealt with, until you are fluent in Akkadian and have a firm grasp of the strengths and weaknesses of every country in the empire and outside it. Then you are to take the Queen’s place in guiding my work and you will report to her instead of me.”
“But why? She has not spoken to me about this!”
May gave him a level look. “She trusts you above all of us—your loyalty, your judgment, your ability to see every difficulty Egypt faces in terms of her future growth and security. Of all her ministers, I am the most important to her. She is determined to increase Egypt’s influence in the world, and thus her wealth also. She consults the Scribe of Recruits almost as often as me.”
“He is responsible for the safety of our borders.” Huy’s mind was racing. “You said ‘empire,’ May. Is His Majesty lord over an empire?” He knew that the question betrayed his ignorance, but May smiled.
“Not quite yet, but by the time he reaches his majority his Mother believes that he will be eligible for the title of emperor.”
For the first time since coming to court, Huy saw Mutemwia’s plan in its entirety, her stratagem a series of fragile filaments snaking towards a unity where there were no longer any areas of uncertainty, where every design had come to fruition and Egypt was truly the centre of the world. She’s been working towards this for years, he thought feverishly, ever since I held the baby Amunhotep in my arms and we were engulfed in a storm of gold dust. She saw me then as a potential ally, and she began the long years of testing my intellect, my loyalty, my dealings with both servants and those of purer blood who came to me for Scrying—in short, my whole being, all my behaviour. Everything within me and without was carefully scrutinized. Such ambition! And all for her son.
“She trusts her ministers to be faithful and honest in their work for Egypt,” May was saying, “but she only gives her full confidence to you. Your destiny is as vital to her as that of the King.” The laden scribes had gone. Once more a shaft of undisturbed sunlight lay across the dusty floor.
“She has discussed these things with you?”
“Not directly,
but everyone labouring in these offices knows that you have her ear. Some have begun to fear you. Some do their best to hide their jealousy. Most of us respect the man who will soon become the King’s principal adviser.” He stretched and lifted his wine from the cleared surface of the desk, holding up the cup in a salute to Huy. “As for myself, my load is heavy. I shall be glad to do nothing more than what I am told. But first, Akkadian.” He drank, then pursed his lips thoughtfully. “If you agree, I’ll send one of my scribes to teach you every evening. I don’t suppose your own scribe is familiar with the language?” Paneb glanced up, pen in hand, inclined his head in a bow to May, then shook it. “A pity.” May eased himself off the stool and surreptitiously rubbed the small of his back. “Is such an arrangement agreeable to you, Great Seer? I’m required to report on your progress to the Queen. I realize that you and Vizier Ptahmose will be absent from court for a couple of months. My scribe will go with you.” He bowed. “May the soles of your feet be firm as you travel. We shall meet again upon your return.”
Huy left the chair, bowed shortly, and walked out into the heat of mid-morning, Paneb at his heels. He felt as though May’s words had been imbued with some unseen force that had pummelled both his mind and his spirit. I understand everything that was obscure to me before, he thought as he made his way through the crowded corridors. After summoning me to Mennofer, she made sure that I would stay by giving every member of my remaining family, even my younger nephew Ramose, an exalted position. She showered Heby with titles and the corresponding responsibilities. He was already Mayor of Mennofer when she made him Overseer of the Cattle of Amun and Overseer of the Two Granaries of Amun in the Sepats of Ta-Mehu. All this, to hold me tightly to her side.
By the time he entered his own apartments, it was noon and the air was full of the pleasant aroma of leek soup and hot herbed ox tongue. He had given his senior servants permission to eat their meals in his reception room. They were spread around the furniture or sitting on the floor, eating and chattering—all but Amunmose, who was hovering by the door, obviously waiting for him. At his side was an elderly man with a shaved skull and seamed face. As far as Huy could see, the only paint he sported was a thick layer of black kohl protecting two bright brown eyes, but his long white linen skirt was bordered in blue, and as he turned to Huy’s approach, the kohl glinted with tiny gold specks. His fingers were free of rings, the nails filed very short. One golden band of office grasped the loose flesh of his left upper arm. He greeted Huy with a low obeisance.
“Master, this is Physician Seneb,” Amunmose said. “With your permission I shall return to my meal. By the way, Ba-en-Ra brought a message from the Chief Architect. He and his sons will be here at the appointed time.”
Huy waved him away and gave his attention to the man already straightening. “How may I serve you, Physician Seneb?” he asked politely.
“No, no, Great Seer, I am here to serve you,” Seneb replied. “Her Majesty the Queen has appointed me as your personal physician. I come to you from the household of Chief Herald Maani-nekhtef, where my erstwhile assistant has been elevated to Chief Physician. I was born in the Am-khent sepat and know the town of Hut-herib well. I am also acquainted with the facts of your death and miraculous resurrection. Khenti-kheti’s priest Methen is distantly related to my mother, who passed into the Beautiful West some time ago.”
“Why are you telling me all this?” Huy said abruptly. He was angry and did not understand why.
Seneb spread out his hands, palms up, in a gesture of submission and apology. “Queen Mutemwia wanted you to be at ease with me, to know that I will require no information regarding your childhood and upbringing. A physician must be aware of such details. Her Majesty wishes to spare you the need to revive painful memories.”
“What else does she want?” Huy’s tone was sharp. In spite of the craving for his midday dose of opium, his appetite for leeks and ox tongue was blessedly growing also.
“She wants me to keep you healthy.” Seneb smiled. “Neither of us may disobey her, Great Seer. I am to examine you every week, take charge of your meals, prescribe fasts and exercise when necessary, and supervise your intake of the poppy.”
“No. My body servant Tetiankh has sole custody of the opium.” He felt hot with an anger that he now knew was directed at Mutemwia, a confusing compound of desire, extreme irritation, and now fear that the substance on which he relied for his sanity would be taken away from him at the will of a ruthless goddess.
Seneb bowed again. “I do not intend to control your intake, merely supervise it. The form in which your body servant prepares it makes it weak. You need too much of it for a comfortable effect. I have already inspected the yield that comes to you from your fields by Weset. The noble Amunnefer, your partner, sent me a sample. The quality is good, almost as good as the crops imported from Keftiu. Believe me, Great Seer, the Queen is passionate regarding your care, and I share her zeal. I have an apartment not far from yours. I have already given your chief steward instructions on how to summon me if I am needed. Otherwise I shall present myself with the tools of my profession tomorrow, and every week thereafter. Are we agreed?”
“I can hardly disagree,” Huy said tartly. “Now may I eat?”
Seneb smiled again, an expression that already seemed habitual with him. “As much as you like, noble one. Please dismiss me.”
Huy was about to protest that he owned no such title, but Seneb was already halfway to the door, his linen flowing majestically with him.
6
CHIEF ARCHITECT KHA AND HIS SONS were admitted to Huy’s suite shortly after sunset, and looking at the two younger men as they bowed to him Huy understood why the King had laughed when speaking of Kha’s family. Kha’s sons were identical twins, gazing solemnly at Huy out of almond-shaped grey eyes, each wide jaw cleft with the sign of a stubborn nature, each generous mouth with the same slightly upward quirk to the left side that would make them appear scornful to anyone who did not know them. But there was no hint of mockery in their expressions as they waited for their father to introduce them. Kha’s own blue eyes were merry.
“Great Seer Amunhotep, these are my children Hori and Suti. They have been anxious to meet you.” Both shaven heads were lowered again. They had both been painted with the same light grey tinge of colour on their eyelids, above heavy kohl.
“You are most welcome,” Huy said, making no attempt to hide his amusement. “Now, which of you is Hori and which Suti?”
“We are asked the same question almost every day, Seer Amunhotep,” one of them replied promptly. “I am Hori. He’s Suti. I am the more intelligent, of course. I draft the most original designs.” They looked at one another and laughed.
“So original that no one wants to see them actually built,” Suti retorted gaily. Huy noted that the modulation of his voice was very slightly higher than that of his brother. Suti raised his braceleted right arm and pointed at himself. “I have a small mole halfway down the side of my chest. Sometimes even our mother can’t tell us apart until I show it to her.”
“You mentioned two daughters on your estate outside Weset,” Huy said to Kha as Amunmose ushered them farther into the room. “Are they also twins?”
Kha shook his head. “Thank all the gods, no! These two provide problems enough!”
Paroi was waiting with wine jugs in both hands as Huy and his guests took their places and lifted the garlands before them on the low tables.
“This is not, strictly speaking, a feast,” Huy told them. “The noble Yey has not yet been buried. There are no perfumed cones and no entertainment. However, we may enjoy the fresh flowers.”
Both Hori and Suti were holding the garlands to their faces. “One of the advantages to living close to the perfume fields …” one began.
“… is the variety of lovely blooms in the Delta,” the other finished, quite naturally and without even glancing at his brother. “White lilies, creamy henna, pink tamarisk, even the yellow bak flowers that smell so sweet.�
� He set the wreath around his neck and looked across at Amunmose, who was setting out cups and finger bowls. “I don’t suppose …”
“… you have any bak pods hidden away?” Both sets of dark eyebrows were raised in anticipation.
“I’m sorry, honoured guests, but the season is still too early for them. My master enjoys them also.” The conversation became general as the wine filled the goblets and the food was served. Huy, having drunk a mouthful or two of date wine earlier, was surprised that he was mildly hungry for the lettuce and cucumber salad drenched in garlic and sesame oil and the ox liver with chickpeas that sent the aroma of majoram and coriander drifting through the air. He ate carefully, however, aware of the delicate state of his stomach, while Hori and Suti consumed everything offered to them politely but steadily.
“Your cook is excellent, Huy,” Kha remarked as Paroi began to clear away the debris and Amunmose stood by with a platter of honeyed figs.
Huy nodded. “He has certainly done well. Please tell him so, Amunmose.”
The steward rolled his eyes. “He’ll only look conceited and then begin to grumble about the restrictions of trying to work in a common kitchen, but I’ll give him the compliment anyway. I keep searching for someone cheerful to replace him.” He set down the figs and bustled away.
“Your chief steward has an unusual temperament,” Kha commented as the twins descended on the figs. “He is not at all in awe of you.”
“He’s an old friend. I’ve known him for many years.” He and Anhur, Huy thought fleetingly, in the days when I was still engaged in a fruitless struggle to understand the Book of Thoth and my own astonishing regeneration.
He and Kha watched the figs disappear, and two pairs of beringed hands dabble in the warm water of the finger bowls and reach for the squares of crisp white linen set ready for them. At once Paroi signalled and the tables were removed. “Let’s go out into the garden,” Huy said, getting up. “Amunmose has set a mat and cushions on the grass and lamps under the trees. Paroi will bring more wine.” Together they left the room and, accompanied by Perti and three other guards, walked the short distance to the welcoming lamplight.
The King's Man Page 14
