The King's Man

by Pauline Gedge

  As the body servant’s capable hands smoothed and wound his perfumed tresses into a thick plait, Huy talked to Methen through Paneb’s swift brush. I had no time to spend with him as we passed Hut-herib. I have no time for Heby, living so close to me here in Mennofer. Ishat’s children are becoming strangers. My letters to Merenra, in charge of the estate, are limited to inquiries regarding the need for gold and the well-being of the few servants left there. I have not asked whether my parents’ home is occupied and being properly tended. I am desperately trying to cling to everyone dear to me while the past gradually slips away. How long will it be before nothing remains but formality?

  He arrived at the Office of Foreign Correspondence just as the King and his mother were being seated. Amunhotep greeted him cheerfully. “Good news from Weset, Uncle Huy. Kha and the twins are at work already. The Berseh and Tura mines have already been reopened for repair, and Kha sent me the plans for the changes and additions I want at Ipet-isut, including a new shrine for Amun’s barque. Demolition has begun on my father’s sandstone court. Hori wants to tear down the little temple to Amun in the Southern Ipet and begin something much more grand. I’ve given him the permission he needs. Treasurer Nakht-sobek will protest, but since I now know exactly how rich I am, I shan’t care.” He turned to May, waiting politely to begin the business of the day. “Give the Seer the diplomatic letters to read to us. Paneb, this is not for you to take down.”

  Huy’s scribe bowed and went to stand in the doorway through which a ray of mid-morning sunlight was streaming brightly golden. May’s scribe settled onto the floor near Huy. May passed Huy one of the clay tablets from the small mountain on his desk. Mutemwia began to smile. Out of the corner of his eye, Huy could see her red-hennaed mouth curve upward as he bent over the now-familiar script.

  To my brother the great King Ka-nakht Kha-em-ma’at I prostrate myself seventy times seven in profound gratitude for the quantity of gold you sent to me. May you reign for millions of years. Ask what you will of me and I shall comply. I beg Your Majesty to send more gold so that I may better equip my soldiers who patrol the border against the barbarous Kheta to the north. Know that the ruler of the Kheta who sits in the city of Hattusas does not love Egypt as I do. If he asks of you, send him no gold. I eagerly await a word from your august lips. Artatama, Supreme King and Chieftain of Mitanni.

  Amunhotep laughed as Huy fell silent. “What a sly old fox he is! He pressures us to remember how kind he was to my uncle Prince Amunhotep and he thinks that in warning us against the Kheta we will tremble in our sandals! Well does he call me Strong Bull, Appearing in Truth! The Kheta are no threat to the might of Egypt!”

  “Not yet,” Mutemwia agreed, “and we are certainly not going to send Artatama more gold. However, I have pondered your suggestion regarding the petty tribes infesting the Bend of Naharin, Huy, and there’s much sense in it. Arrange introductory letters to their chiefs, and whatever gifts you think appropriate. What else, May? Give the tablets to Huy.”

  In the afternoon, Huy retreated to his apartments. He knew that he had acquitted himself well in the Office of Foreign Correspondence. He was becoming increasingly aware of the size and scope of Egypt’s holdings outside her borders, and of her often convoluted dealings with other independent nations. He supposed that the King’s early education had included such important matters. Amunhotep was certainly familiar with the situation surrounding each missive Huy had read aloud. Indeed, His Majesty knew more about the history and culture of such far-flung countries as Arzawa, away to the northwest, or Assur, straddling the eastern arm of the two great rivers sheltering the Bend of Naharin, than he knew about the border defences of his own dominion. Huy was surprised at Mutemwia’s ignorance of the situation governing Egypt’s borders, and wondered if his nephew was at fault. Had his reports as Scribe of Recruits not been clear and succinct enough? No matter. The Queen would quickly remedy her lack. Before he took to his couch for the customary sleep, Huy heard from Ba-en-Ra. Tiye and her mother would attend Huy in his reception room after the last meal of the day.

  They arrived accompanied by Userhet, the Overseer of the King’s Harem, as well as an impossibly handsome young man hugging a large cedar box and introduced as Thuyu’s cosmetician, two female body servants carrying cloaks and spare sandals, two scribes, and a crowd of harem guards. Respectfully but firmly, Amunmose shut them all out in the passage but for the two aristocratic women, their female attendants, and one scribe. Huy would have liked to ban Tiye’s monkey also, a tiny, white-faced creature perched on her shoulder and clinging to her hair with one fist while scratching its genitals with the other. It bared its pointed teeth in a rictus of obvious dislike at Huy as he performed a deep obeisance and indicated three gilt chairs set around his inlaid ivory and silver table. Amunmose and Paroi were swiftly and unobtrusively setting a choice of wines, nuts, and fruit on its gleaming surface. The monkey immediately used Tiye’s hair to swing onto the table, and snatched up a handful of the precious almonds. Tiye pried them away from it, all but one. The monkey promptly palmed the nut into its mouth.

  Thuyu had seated herself gracefully—straight-backed, feet together, hands folded decorously in her white lap. “I am told that the House of Yuya owes its latest elevation to you, Great Seer Amunhotep,” she said, thus giving Huy, as her social inferior, permission to speak. “Please sit and tell me about it.” She was smiling, her immaculately kohled eyes with their blue-tinted lids warmly inviting. Her dark wig with its dozens of long braids had not a hair out of place. Delicate necklaces of small bevelled gold hoops were strung around her tall neck, each circle hung with a golden likeness of either the goddess Hathor with her sweetly curving cow’s horns or Min the lettuce-eater, a type of Amun who once a year became a god of orgiastic licentiousness.

  Of course, Huy thought in the moment before he answered her. She is not only Chief Singer of Amun but Chief Singer of Hathor also. She presides over the music of Min’s primary temple at Ipu and that of Amun at Ipet-isut as well. This is a very intelligent and influential woman. He took the remaining chair. “Please call me Huy,” he replied. “I’m sure that your daughter has related the details of her Seeing to you, noble one. Because of the vision, I was pleased to recommend a marriage contract for her with His Majesty. She is now Great Royal Wife, and will of course be fully a Queen when Amunhotep reaches his majority.” The King’s name had come easily and unconsciously to his tongue. A brief expression of pain crossed Thuyu’s face but was instantly repressed. She had noted his glance.

  “Forgive me, Seer Huy,” she said. “Even my husband Yuya, Prince of Ipu, is not permitted to address the King with such familiarity. I should have remembered that your long and very close relationship with His Majesty has given you such a privilege.” There was no animosity in her expression. Her gaze moved to the table. At once Amunmose stepped forward. “You have irep nefer nefer,” she said. It was not a question. “Pour me a cup. Tiye, would you like wine?” The girl nodded.

  Irep nefer nefer, very good wine, was one grade below the very best vintage to be had. Huy, not wanting to boast, kept silent as the dark red liquid cascaded into two cups. Thuyu thanked the steward, lifted her cup, and sipped at its contents daintily.

  “I am here as my daughter’s chaperone until she moves into the Chief Wife’s apartments,” she continued. “I was raised in the harem, Seer Huy, before I was given in marriage to Yuya as a special favour. The greatest danger to her there is the fever that seems to run rife as the Inundation rises. If necessary I will want to move her, either to the harem by the lake in the desert at Mi-wer or to your estate outside Hut-herib.” She sipped again, placed her cup carefully back on the table, and inclined her head slightly in Huy’s direction. “Her Majesty the Regent has already told me that Tiye’s care is completely in your hands. I am pleased. The King has benefited greatly from his annual stay in your house and I anticipate nothing less for Tiye. My only request is that she is never allowed to be alone with any man other than the
King.”

  Tiye herself had said nothing while this conversation was proceeding. She had been feeding grapes to the monkey one at a time while it perched on her shoulder. “And you, Great Seer,” she put in now, “I want the freedom to be alone with you whenever I want. The King doesn’t particularly like me, so you must tell me everything about him. Stop it, Prince Rascal!” The beast was patting her cheek and chittering in her ear.

  Huy crooked a finger at Paroi. “Take this animal into the passage and give it to Perti to watch.” The under steward reluctantly wound its leash around his wrist and lifted it with both hands, holding it as far away as possible as he approached the door. “Now perhaps we may talk without distraction,” Huy went on. “Lady Tiye, I am available to you whenever you wish to see me, but I beg you to leave Nib-Nib and Prince Rascal in your quarters!” Looking into her face, he wondered if she had brought the monkey along to annoy him or her mother. “I shall come to the harem tomorrow to learn the routines of your days and I shall attend your lessons with you. I warn you that if I see a need for changes, I shall make them and you will accept them quietly.” Thuyu nodded.

  Tiye’s eyebrows rose and her mouth twisted. “I’ll learn far more about being a Queen if you let me attend your routines. I should be with the King at his daily audience and with you as you move from minister to minister.”

  Huy paused before replying. Her comment had surprised him. His encounters with her so far had been between an annoyingly persistent, even rude young noble and his exasperated self. “You should certainly begin to spend time with His Majesty, but that will be at his choosing, not yours or mine,” he told her. “If your mornings are spent outside the classroom, you will have to study in the afternoons instead.”

  She shrugged. “I shan’t mind. May I learn to use a bow and arrows? It would be good exercise for me. I need to swim also.”

  Thuyu made a tiny sound of distress but otherwise remained silent. There is going to be a battle of wills between her and me, Huy thought, not without humour. I wonder if Amunhotep is going to be strong enough to stand up to her when necessary. What if his dislike for her becomes hostility and her light dismissal of him turns into indifference?

  Thuyu delicately cleared her throat. “When you have caught up with your general studies, you will be giving your attention to learning the correct deportment for a Queen. Not only must you gain the King’s respect, but the members of the court and the foreign delegations must recognize in you the invisible aura that surrounds a goddess. You can’t elude your father’s guards and run around the palace gardens with Prince Rascal and Nib-Nib anymore. Your father is now the King’s Master of the Horse, Lieutenant Commander of the Chariotry, and Chief Instructor of the King in Martial Arts, as your grandfather Yey was. He will not allow you anywhere near the training ground. You silly girl! You hold the highest rank of any woman in Egypt. Even I must bow to you. Do not squander this authority in foolish displays of self-will.”

  Huy expected an outburst from Tiye, but it did not come. After a moment she took her mother’s hand. “I know that you’re right. At night on my couch I think about what it means to be a Queen and I seem to be in the middle of a wonderful dream. But then I remember that I can’t go hunting for spent arrows in the bushes behind the barracks with Ay anymore, or play in the dirt beside the river with Anen and Ramose.” She pursed her lips and met Huy’s eye. “I am used to the freedom of life in a rich and aristocratic household, Seer Huy. It seems to me that the life of a Queen is not free at all, and I am a little afraid.”

  “I’ll arrange for you to visit the Regent privately, in her apartments,” Huy promised. “Remember the vision, Tiye. Atum intends the Queen’s crown for you. There is no need for fear.” At once his mind filled with images: Tiye and an unknown King, a misshapen figure standing beside her in the blazing heat of an unroofed inner temple, her face harsh, her expression closed. But as the conversation became general and Huy’s guests got up to leave, that picture faded and another took its place. He had told Tiye that she had nothing to fear, but he wondered whether she and her parents had considered a threat from the thwarted Iaret. And what of Neferatiri, the late King’s Chief Wife? She had made no overtures to Prince Amunhotep; Mutemwia’s concern in that matter had been almost entirely allayed. The King himself had not cared much for her and never mentioned her in Huy’s presence, but might she not be brooding over the latest turn of events with her attention turned to a marital alliance with Amunhotep? A sexual relationship between the two was unlikely but not impossible. However, the true worth of such a marriage contract lay in the power and prestige it would bestow upon the Queen. Was she greedy and ambitious?

  Huy sighed as he bowed the women out and Paroi closed the door behind them. He had scarcely spoken to Neferatiri since moving into the palace. She had graced him with a few words in passing as she made her way from the women’s quarters. I must spend tomorrow in the harem once the foreign correspondence has been dealt with, he thought, standing irresolute for a moment in the middle of his reception room. I must greet and question everyone. I must obtain the personal histories of all of them from Userhet, make sure that Menkhoper, Scribe in the House of the Royal Children and the King’s tutor for many years, is prepared to educate his newest charge, talk to the captain of the harem guards, the physicians who tend the women, the food tasters. I must either place a spy among Iaret’s and Neferatiri’s staff or ask Mutemwia to introduce me to the servants in her pay and ask to see their regular reports. He felt both overwhelmed by the new responsibilities being placed on his shoulders and privileged to be bearing them.

  For several days he performed his duties in the ministerial office with May and the royal pair, spending the rest of his time in the women’s quarters. The river continued to rise, and its increasing height was celebrated with feasts almost every evening. Huy took those opportunities to become familiar with the ambassadors stationed permanently in Egypt. On the whole he liked them. He began to regularly attend the King’s morning audiences, watching and listening in particular to the representatives of the foreign tribes and nations paying an annual tribute to Egypt in exchange for their autonomy. The emissaries from Keftiu, Alashia, and the other entirely free countries with which Egypt had trading agreements were polite, well-educated men who understood Egypt’s eminence in the world. Their dealings with the King and the Regent were tactful when arguing on behalf of their masters, reverential when approaching the Horus Throne, and knowledgeable when discussing some thorny matter with the ministers involved. They treated Huy with deep respect, seeming to understand intuitively that his influence with the King, always strong, was growing. Huy was aware of this himself. More and more often he appeared in the Office of Foreign Correspondence to be told by Minister May that Their Majesties would not be attending and the letters must be answered by Huy himself. He and May began to present the daily report together.

  Towards the end of the month, when Egypt was preparing to celebrate the Feast of the Great Manifestation of Osiris, Huy and May walked into May’s office after the morning’s audience to find Tiye and her scribe already there. Both men bowed profoundly, Huy with a pang of anxiety. But Tiye was smiling at them, the downturned mouth that gave her face a deceptively displeased look lifting in greeting and lighting those hooded blue eyes. A band of blue lapis flax flowers encircled her head, emphasizing the dark red gleam of her shoulder-length hair. A soft white sheath fell in graceful folds from her neck to her gold-thonged sandals and was belted to her skinny waist with rectangular pieces of lapis set in gold. In spite of her naked arms, fingers, and earlobes, she was a strikingly extravagant sight. Once again Huy was struck by the atmosphere of latent force she exuded. The usual ray of hot but fleeting sunlight pouring through the open doorway was resting briefly on the almost transparent drape of the linen, and through it Huy could see the slight curve of her calves. The scribe had risen to perform his obeisance before sinking cross-legged to the floor beside her chair, his palette across his naked
knees. Huy thought him very young.

  “Great Seer Amunhotep, Noble Minister May, this is my personal scribe Anhirkawi.” She waved at him. “My new tutor Menkhoper recommended him to me. He comes from the office of the noble Nebmerut, the King’s Seal Bearer. So far I haven’t used him much, but I intend that to change.” Her smile became a wide grin, the scarlet henna on her lips making her small white teeth gleam. “Great Seer, His Majesty and the Regent have given me permission to accompany you each day as you go about your duties, as I told you earlier I wanted to do. Actually, I asked Amunhotep first. He laughed and thought my request was funny, but I remembered your advice and kept my temper. Besides, he wasn’t being nasty. The Regent said that you must approve, though. Do you approve? I’ll try not to be a nuisance.”

  “Well, in that case you’d better call me Seer Huy,” Huy replied heavily. “You do understand that Anhirkawi may not take down any official correspondence for your private use and I may occasionally ask to see his records?”

  “Of course.” She wriggled further into her chair and folded her arms. “I really want to call you Uncle, as the King does. After all, according to my marriage contract, I’m already Amunhotep’s wife, so his relatives have become my own, even though we don’t share any blood. I think you’d better call me Tiye, at least until the Queen’s crown is set on my head.” Without waiting for an answer, she swung her gaze to May. “I know that you are very busy,” she said to him, “but I want to borrow the scribe of yours who taught the Seer Akkadian. I must learn the language if I am to understand the problems you encounter in the world of diplomacy. I don’t dare approach the ambassadors yet—I’d betray my ignorance, and they’d expect nothing more from a woman, even a noble one. But one day I intend to surprise them, and the King as well.”