Huy could see that the man wanted to say more but was tactfully biting back the words. Huy said them for him. “It has been a difficult few months, full of worries and surprises, and I’m very tired. I’ll eat in my office, Paroi. Send me Paneb when he arrives and tell Kenofer I’ll want to get onto my couch as soon as possible.”
Paroi nodded. “Shall I send for Royal Physician Seneb?”
“No. Have hot water ready for me in the bathhouse after Paneb and I have glanced at the letters.” The steward bowed and left and Huy made his way slowly to his office. The room was blessedly cool and smelled faintly of new papyrus and the scent of lilies. Huy saw Amunhotep’s seal on the top of a large pile of scrolls on the desk and unwillingly unrolled the papyrus. “To my dear Uncle and revered mer kat, greetings on your return,” he read. “I look forward to hearing all your news, but first I eagerly anticipate a disclosure of the contents of the Seeing you performed for Prince Amunhotep. I expect to receive you the day after you have read this. Thus I give you time to recover from your journey. Dictated to Chief Royal Scribe Mahu and signed by myself.”
Huy did not bother with the King’s long list of titles. Pushing the scroll aside, he sat back in his chair, folding his arms and staring at the wall opposite with its niches full of scrolls. He could hear the arrival of the men with whom he had travelled and the servants who were handling his boxes. Laughter and commands blended with thumps and thuds. They’re happy to be home, Huy thought, then dismissed the cheerful bustle from his mind. I must go to the palace early tomorrow morning, he mused while he felt his heart turn over in trepidation. I don’t want to face a drunken Amunhotep.
Paroi knocked and entered with a tray. Absently Huy pushed the correspondence aside. Paroi set the food on the desk, bowed, and withdrew. The sight of roasted gazelle meat, steaming lentil stew, and dried fruit turned Huy’s stomach, but he forced himself to eat and to drink the barley beer. I won’t send word that I’m back, he decided, stirring the lentils round and round, not really aware of what he was doing. I particularly don’t want the Empress warned. If Atum wills it, she’ll be sitting in the reception hall dealing with the business of the day and then hearing petitions. I must convince Amunhotep of the seriousness of the matter before Tiye appears, even if he reacts with incredulity. Atum help me! Tiye will want me torn limb from limb.
Another knock heralded Paneb’s arrival. He bowed, settled himself cross-legged on the floor, arranged his utensils, and Huy quickly began to sift through the messages looking for seals from the most important ministries, pushing his apprehension away with great effort. He had eaten the stew and half the dried fruit, but he could not face the gazelle’s cold flesh.
By the time he and Paneb had dealt with the scrolls and Paneb had taken them away to be delivered to Chief Herald Ba-en-Ra, Huy was exhausted, more from the thought of what awaited him the following day than from the task he had completed. Leaving the office, he went along the passage outside to the bathhouse, where Kenofer was keeping the water hot. Later, washed and oiled, he took the stairs to his bedchamber, Kenofer behind him. Walking in, Huy went straight to the invitation of fresh white linen on his couch, shedding the sheet Kenofer had draped around him. The window covering had been lowered and hazy sunlight lay across the floor in bands of muted light between the thin shadows of the reed slats. Huy sat, swung his legs up onto the couch, and was about to lie down when he caught movement in the corner beside his shrine to Khenti-kheti. He froze.
A hyena was sitting on its haunches and staring at him, and even as he realized what he was seeing, its musty, pungent odour filled his nostrils. Opening its mouth, it yawned then licked its lips with a black tongue, but this was not the hyena Huy had seen drowsing against Imhotep in the Beautiful West. That creature had regarded him with mild golden eyes; this beast’s eyes were black, like its tongue. But that made no sense either, Huy knew, because hyenas inhabiting the desert and seeking offal in the fields and villages had pink tongues.
“Master, what’s wrong?” Kenofer said, but Huy hardly heard him. The hyena took two steps forward into one of the strips of sunlight and with horror Huy saw that it had no markings—its hide was as black at its eyes. Pausing, it settled onto its haunches again and went on considering him. After the first shock of seeing it, Huy realized that he was not overly surprised by its presence. He had been free of it for weeks, but now he was back in Weset and the gods were watching.
“Kenofer, do you see anything out of place here? Smell anything?” he asked without much hope.
The man examined the room with a practised eye, took several deep breaths, then shook his head. The beast did not stir. “No, Master, all is as it should be,” Kenofer answered. “Do you see something amiss?”
Huy’s mouth had gone dry. “It doesn’t matter,” he managed. “Go and sleep. I’ll call if I need you.” Once alone, Huy regarded the hyena more calmly. He read no menace in its stance or in the sooty eyes fixed so steadily on him. It came no nearer. After a while Huy lay down on his side, facing it. It still did not stir. “I don’t know what you want,” he whispered. “Has Ma’at sent you from the depths of the Judgment Hall to lead me to an ultimate destruction, or do you come from the Beautiful West with a message for me that I am unable to understand? I have the oddest feeling that I know you.”
There was no response, just that steady regard, and after a while Huy began to relax. He closed his eyes, opening them again to see if the hyena had come any closer, but it had remained where it was, although the light no longer limned it. With a moment of astonishment at his ability to do so, Huy went to sleep.
16
HE SLEPT FITFULLY THAT NIGHT, waking often to peer into the shrouded room until he could see the outline of the hyena, a blacker shape amongst the thick shadows. He spent the hour before dawn lying on his back, alert for any animal sound, drawing that fetid odour into his lungs and willing himself to remain calm. As soon as he could see the details of the scene painted on his ceiling, he forced himself to leave the couch and raise the window hanging. The pink of an early sunrise washed over and past him and he turned into the newly lit space, praying that it might be empty. The hyena’s head had followed his movements and Huy found himself staring straight into eyes so glossy that he believed he was able to see himself reflected in them. He stood still for some time, senses straining to detect any hint of malice coming from the beast, but its gaze remained politely neutral. Only when he dared to walk right up to it did it move, rising clumsily on all fours so that its ugly hindquarters appeared, and opening its black mouth to snarl at him. The snarl became a growl as he stubbornly bent to touch it. Black lips lifted away from black, moist teeth, and then it laughed at him, a series of highly pitched warning barks. Its hackles rose. Repulsed and wary, Huy stepped away.
Outside the door, Kenofer was snoring on his pallet and the guard at the end of the passage gave Huy a short nod. Obviously neither of them had heard any sound. Gently, Huy pressed Kenofer’s shoulder and the body servant was fully alert at once. “I must go to the palace,” Huy said. “If Amunmose hasn’t ordered hot water for the bathhouse yet, you’ll have to see to it yourself. Also, I want to wear a blue kilt and shirt today. Do I have these?”
Kenofer was on his feet and listening carefully. “Master, you want to wear mourning clothes?” he responded doubtfully. “Has there been a death in the palace?”
“No. I won’t be wearing any jewellery, and my usual sandals will be fine. Bring me my dose of poppy before you do anything else.” Kenofer had already wrapped yesterday’s kilt around himself and was slipping into his reed sandals. Huy returned to his couch, sitting on its edge and meeting the hyena’s stare. “I will not let you unnerve me,” he said. “Anubis refuses to tell me why you have begun to haunt me, or even who sent you. I cannot let you preoccupy my mind today. I must open my shrine. Move back.” He did not expect a reaction, but the hyena got up and shambled to the far corner, settling down where a shadow still hung. I can learn to ignore you, Huy
went on silently as he opened Khenti-kheti’s shrine and bowed to the totem of his birth sepat. I can learn to stop asking questions about you. I can make you as anonymous and disregarded as the tiles under my feet. He knelt and prostrated himself before the god, reminding Khenti-kheti of the devotion he had shown in the design and ongoing construction of the new temple at Hut-herib and begging him for his help when he faced the King. He prayed to Amun also, speaking of the blasphemy he had seen in his vision. He tried to maintain a proper attitude of worship, but his thoughts kept slipping out of his control to circle the moment when he must open his mouth and probably destroy himself.
As he got up from the floor and stepped forward to close the doors of the shrine, Kenofer entered with the poppy. “One of the kitchen staff is tending the fire for the water,” he said as Huy drained the vial. “I’m sorry that you must wait, but it’s still very early.” He took the empty vial, set it on the table beside the couch, and began to empty one of Huy’s chests in search of the blue linen.
Huy glanced into the corner. Two black eyes glittered back at him. Deliberately, he turned his back on them.
Within the hour he was bathed, kohled, and dressed, and Kenofer had woven his hair into one long braid that hung along his spine and bumped lightly against the small of his back. The man had brought food—bread, goat’s cheese, and milk and water—and although Huy drank, his stomach revolted against anything solid. In one lunatic moment he tore off a piece of the flatbread intending to toss it at the hyena, but common sense reasserted itself and, half ashamed, he returned the portion to the tray.
Going downstairs to the reception hall, he was about to summon Perti and his soldiers as an escort when he decided against any show of force. There must be no suggestion of violence, no reason for the King to even imagine a threat. Sending for his scribe, he waited just inside the cedar doors that gave out onto his vast arouras. He felt numb inside and out thanks to the poppy. His thoughts had slowed and calmed so that by the time Paneb came gliding up to him, palette under his arm, and together they went out into the early sunlight, he had begun to plan what he would say. Paneb had glanced swiftly at his attire and then away, keeping the obvious question to himself as a good servant should, and Huy did not enlighten him. Paneb had recorded the Seeing in the baby Prince’s nursery and had made two copies of it, one for the King and the other for Huy’s archives. He knew its details as well as Huy did.
They were carried in separate litters through the dusty poppy fields, along the bank of the sunken river, and into the palace compound. Huy needed to be alone and undistracted. He missed the comfort of Perti’s presence and felt naked without a barrier of soldiers between himself and Weset’s citizens, but he knew that he had made the right decision in leaving them behind in spite of Perti’s vehement insistence to the contrary.
At the southern gate of the outer wall, his bearers were stopped. Huy pushed the litter’s curtain aside to see Commander-in-Chief Wesersatet coming towards him. At the sight of Huy’s face the man broke into a smile. He bowed. “Mer kat, your message from Mennofer took us all by surprise! You were not expected back so soon! I trust your business there was concluded successfully?”
Huy nodded, returning the smile. “It was. I’m happy to see you, Wesersatet, but I’m in a hurry to speak to the King. Is His Majesty still in his private quarters?” He asked without much hope of an answer. It was not necessary for a commander to be in the royal presence unless summoned. To Huy’s surprise, Wesersatet replied immediately.
“The King has already left his couch in favour of a chair, but when I left him he was in no hurry to be bathed. He seldom rises so early, but I had requested a private audience with him before I began my duties for the day. I’m retiring, Huy.”
“What? No, you can’t!” Huy protested. “You’ll thoroughly demoralize every division in the army! There’ll be soldiers weeping in the streets! Who will replace you?” He was joking, but it was true that the men of Egypt’s army loved him. Another link with my past is being severed, Huy thought sadly beneath the forced humour. Wesersatet deserves to leave the court on a tide of gifts and adulation, but I dread the time when every face in the palace is strange to me.
Wesersatet laughed. “You give me too much credit. I’ll miss the hours we spent together here in your office, devising the military strategies that have played their part in the creation of Egypt’s empire. We did well, didn’t we? I’ve recommended to His Majety that Navy Commander Nebenkempt take my place as Chief Commander, or rather, I recommended him to the Queen, who sits in audience every morning. I think you know him well, as your older nephew’s father-in-law.”
“A good choice. But I’ll miss you very much. Enjoy a long and peaceful retirement, Commander.”
He was about to signal the bearers to go through the now open gate, but Wesersatet put his mouth to Huy’s ear. “The King is suffering from a hangover and will want to spend the rest of the morning lying on his couch in order to recover from that and the annoyance of having to personally grant me permission to go home instead of being able to leave the matter to Tiye. I just thought I’d warn you.” Withdrawing, he bowed and strode away, and Huy and Paneb entered the palace precincts.
Leaving the litter-bearers under the shade of the many trees dotting the area between the outer wall and the sprawling buildings, they sought admittance through a side door, where Huy sent one of the palace heralds to ask if the King would see him. The man returned quickly. “His Majesty is very eager to receive you, mer kat. His Majesty is in his bedchamber. Shall I call a house servant to escort you?”
“Thank you, but I know the way. Is the Empress with him?”
“Not yet. She is hearing the petitions at present.”
I hope she’ll go from there to the administrative offices, Huy prayed as he and Paneb moved into the labyrinth of intersecting passages. That’s what we used to do. As he walked through the palace, the noise and laughter of the groups of courtiers already congregating at every intersection died away at his approach. Heads were bowed and arms outstretched in reverence. A few of them made sure that their fingers brushed him. As if by merely touching me they might be healed or given a glimpse of their future, Huy thought as he passed them. Thothmes’ comments regarding Huy’s titular godhead came to mind and were quickly dismissed. The wide, statue-lined corridor leading to Amunhotep’s imposing double doors was directly ahead, and the King’s personal bodyguard stood with Chief Steward Nubti, watching Huy and Paneb approach. Nubti rose with his usual misshapen grace. Reverencing Huy with a smile, he opened the door behind him, and Huy and Paneb waited, listening to his deep voice announce them. He waved them in.
At once they knelt and performed a full prostration. Huy, with his nose to the floor, could smell a faint trace of Tiye’s perfume, her odd blend of cardamom and myrrh. Has she spent the night here, he wondered, or was she here a short time ago? If so, she may not return and my luck will continue to hold. Amunhotep’s happy voice bade them stand and approach and they did so, bowing again as they came up to him. He was relaxing in the wide chair beside his couch, swathed to his ankles in crumpled linen, a white cap on his head and his face unpainted. He was beaming at Huy, and for a moment Huy was returned to his office at Hut-herib, where his precious royal charge sat behind his desk with the plans for constructing a ship under his hands, his brown face lifted to Huy’s with a question. Free of cosmetics he was simply an older version of that impatient child, all innocence and anticipation, and Huy’s heart filled with love for him as Amunhotep left his seat and threw his arms around Huy.
“Uncle, this is a great and welcome surprise!” he said as he released Huy and returned to his chair. “I was grumbling at Wesersatet for making me leave my couch so early, but now I’m overjoyed! Your presence has cured the pain in my head! Why didn’t you send me word that you had come home? Sit. Sit!”
“I needed to rest before approaching you,” Huy replied, “and if Your Majesty doesn’t mind, I’d rather stand for now.” H
e repressed an urge to reach down and stroke the King’s soft cheek. “It’s good to see you also, Amunhotep.”
Some of the cheerfulness went out of the younger man’s brown eyes. “You want to be serious. True to your word, you bring me the vision of my little Prince’s future now that matters in Mennofer have been concluded. I’m anxious to hear it, particularly since for once the gods did not predict an early death for him, but you come to me unadorned and wearing blue. Not all the events in the Seeing are good, are they? I think that the Empress must hear it too.” He beckoned Nubti. Huy noted that Amunhotep had not asked for the results of his visit to Ptah’s temple. Hastily he put out a hand.
“Please, Majesty, not yet,” he said. “What I have to say is for you alone at present.”
Amunhotep sobered. “I have no secrets from Tiye. You are my right hand, Uncle, and she is my left. I insist on her presence. Nubti, bring me wine.”
The chief steward came forward quickly. “But Your Majesty, you have eaten no food yet this morning. Wine on an empty stomach will simply give you another headache, and you had planned to hunt later today.”
Amunhotep flicked his fingers, a gesture of irritable dismissal. “You do not exist in order to mother me! Do as I order you. Stop trying to catch my uncle’s eye, and don’t frown. It makes you look like a cat about to vomit.” Nubti bowed and went out.
The time when Huy might have corrected the King’s rudeness was long gone. He waited in silence, Paneb behind him. The King began to drum his fingers on the gilded arm of his chair. A line of sweat had broken out across his forehead, darkening the band of his cap and sending a whiff of sour rosemary oil into the air. “If the Seeing had been full of promise, you would have told us all of it before you left Weset,” he ventured after a while. “You assured us that my second son will not die in his youth, therefore Anubis showed you some other form of anguish, something terrible.”
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