The Amarnan Kings, Book 3: Scarab - Tutankhamen

by Overton, Max

  "I am sorry, my lord. He is overcome by the moment."

  Tutankhamen chuckled. "He has reddish hair. Or is that the effect of the firelight?"

  "His, er, mother is of the Khabiru, my lord."

  "Indeed? No shame there. My own grandmother, Queen Tiye was of the Khabiru." The king nodded to Pentere, who bowed and hurried off with the crying child. "Well, what is this favour you ask for the child?"

  "I ask that when the child Seti is old enough, that my lord king let him serve you personally in your court."

  "That is all? It is granted, and you shall have the gold as well."

  "I am indeed honoured, my lord." Seti bowed, looking suitably pleased but making an effort to keep his exultation off his face. "May I...may I present my lord king with the Hittite knife?"

  "The iron blade? You give it to me?"

  "Again I would be honoured. It seems fitting that a Hittite knife should be carried back against them in my lord's coming battle."

  "Thank you, Judge Seti. It is a great gift and I shall treasure it all the days of my life. Now, I can tell that everyone here is hungry and thirsty, so let us resume the feast. I have decided I will not stay at Zarw for a few days after all but continue our march at dawn. Your inspiring tale has made me eager to get to grips with the Hittite enemy."

  The king resumed his seat and the musicians struck up a stirring tune on lyre and harp, horn and drum, and soon the dancing girls and acrobats had turned all minds from war and for an evening, contemplated the happiness that can be found from a full belly and good comradeship.

  Seti sat quietly, watching the king take delight in the feast, and smiled contentedly. When the time comes , he thought, Young Seti will take his place at court and we shall see. Yes, we shall see ...

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  Chapter Ten

  Jebu, General and commander-in-chief of the combined Amorite and Hittite army of the borderlands, pulled his horse to a stop on the southern approach to the Amorite royal city of Taanach and stared at the city walls. Despite the warmth of the day and the barely moving air of the hills, carrying with it the heady scents of thyme and fresh-cut grass, he felt a chill. Dangling from the battlements were the rotted remains of Arnu, late captain of the guard, recognizable only by his stained uniform that clung to the picked over fragments of bone and dried flesh. When he had been here last, less than a year ago, Arnu had held power over a disgraced Jebu. So swiftly turns fate , Jebu thought. And keep that in mind, it could turn again . He clucked his tongue and nudged his horse's belly, starting down toward the armed guard at the open gates.

  Inside the city, Jebu made his way to the fortified palace and after an interminable wait in the guardhouse, was admitted to the inner courtyard. A new captain of the guard waited outside for the general.

  "General Jebu. My name is Captain Benalu. If you would be so kind as to accompany me, I will take you to the king."

  Jebu inclined his head in silent acknowledgment and the two men walked out across the courtyard to the warren of rooms and passages that made up the old palace. Benalu ushered them through several guard posts, the soldiers springing to attention and saluting their captain crisply.

  "Things have changed here," Jebu murmured.

  "Yes, and I suppose I have you to thank for that, General."

  "How so?"

  "You won't remember me, but I was a guard under Arnu last year and witness to his unprofessional attack on you. When you upstaged him, you also turned the king against him. He did not last a week as I'm sure you know."

  "I heard."

  "And now his corpse adorns the city walls. I was promoted and you can be certain I will not make his mistake."

  Jebu nodded, noting the way every armed man they met was well groomed and his armour and weapons in good repair. "I can see that."

  A quartet of men with spears blocked the door into an audience chamber and Benalu spoke quietly with one, listened to his soft reply and nodded. He turned to Jebu with an apologetic smile. "I am to take your sword, General."

  Jebu bristled, his hand clenching the pommel of his sword. "I am not trusted?" he asked. "Am I then under arrest again?"

  Benalu shrugged. "Who can say? I have my orders, General." Behind him, the four guards tensed, their eyes fixed on Jebu, awaiting the order that would send him to his death.

  Jebu took his right hand from his sword and drew it slowly with his left, offering the hilt to Benalu. The captain accepted it and handed it back to one of the guards.

  "You have a knife, General? For eating, perhaps?" He waited patiently while Jebu drew a short-bladed knife from his belt and tossed it to the floor. "Thank you, General. I am only doing my duty."

  Jebu nodded. "I can go in, then?"

  "May the gods be with you," Benalu said. He turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Jebu staring after him. Two guards moved to open the double cedar doors to the audience chamber and Jebu straightened his back, lifted his head high and sauntered into the room. The doors closed behind him with a soft and final thud and he found himself staring down the length of the room to a table around which sat three men, all known to him.

  They looked round as the door closed and one, a short, stout man in purple robes, and diadem on long black hair over a heavyset face gestured and called out. "General Jebu, pray join us."

  Jebu marched the length of the room and dropped on one knee to the flag stoned floor in front of the man. "Majesty, I am yours to command, as always." He kept his head downcast, his eyes fixed on the king's hand, laden with jeweled rings. The rich purple robes shifted as the man sat back in his ornately carved chair.

  King Aziru gazed at the kneeling man under drooping eyelids. His full lips pouted slightly and he waved his hand languidly at the other men. "You have my leave to rise, Jebu. Greet my other guests."

  Jebu rose to his feet and turned to an older man with elegantly folded robes of red and brown and a calm demeanor. He bowed carefully, trying to estimate the proper depth, not knowing if the man's status had changed in the last year. "My lord Mutaril, I am glad to see you in good health."

  "Thank you, General Jebu. We have been watching your progress with much interest."

  The third man was very different from the older men in fine clothing and jewels who sat with him. Bearded like the others, but without any evidence that his facial hair was washed and oiled, he presented an unkempt appearance. His clothes were older, slightly worn in places despite their high quality. He stared at Jebu with a half smile, waiting for the general to speak.

  "Ashraz," Jebu said curtly.

  The unkempt man nodded pleasantly. "Perhaps we can get down to business, majesty? May I offer the general some wine?"

  Aziru did not answer so Ashraz took it upon himself to pour a cup from the pitcher at the end of the table and place it in front of the general.

  "Sit," Ashraz said. "Make yourself comfortable. We are all friends together."

  Jebu looked at the king enquiringly and waited for a brief nod before sitting on a chair a bit removed from the others. He picked up the cup of wine, sniffed it and drank. "Kemetu wine?" he asked, his eyebrows rising.

  "A little something I picked up last time I was there," Ashraz said with a grin. "Not a bad drop, is it? But then Tjaty Ay's vineyards are some of the best in the Delta."

  "You took this from Ay?"

  "Who said anything about taking? I'm shocked, Jebu, to the core. I thought you were an honest man. Of course I bought it, and paid a fair price I might add."

  "You are no longer a spy but have become a merchant, a trader?"

  "Ah, the straightforward and guileless voice of the soldier. Of course I am a spy and master of spies but how far would I get if I told people that was my business. I trade and I keep my eyes and ears open. People love to talk and I love to listen."

  "You do enough talking here," Aziru growled. "Tell him why he is here."

  "Of course, majesty. Jebu, you are here because six months ago you we
re entrusted with a joint force of Hittites and Amorites to wage war on Kemet. As far as we can see, nothing much has happened. A lot of gold has disappeared but you have failed to bring the legions to battle and defeat them. Our master Aziru, and the Hittite king, Shubbiluliuma, represented here by Lord Mutaril, would like an accounting. Explain yourself, Jebu."

  Jebu sighed and took another deep drink of his wine before replying. "The men of Amurru are brave, majesty, but they are not as skilled in arms, nor do they have the same passion for warfare as our Kemetu foes. The legions of Horemheb and now of his dog Paramessu are well-trained and are fighting for their homeland. Our allies, the redoubtable Hittite warriors are well-trained and well-disciplined but they resent being commanded by an Amorite. Their passion for war is less than intense."

  The Hittite ambassador leaned forward. "General Jebu, does the Hittite commander Mursilanda not obey you? Do you not still have the ring of Shubbiluliuma as a token of your authority to command?"

  Jebu held up his left hand with the silver ring of the horned bull of Hatti. "I have it still, my lord Mutaril, and yes, Mursilanda does obey me, yet...yet his obedience is as other men's reluctance. He argues, he questions, and he drags his feet. I am a general, my lord, used to instant obedience and it rankles that I must cajole and persuade a third of my army."

  "Enough of this," Aziru broke in. "I am not interested in your inability to command your men. I want to know why you have not yet defeated my enemies and handed your king the land of Kemet."

  "I do not wish to play dice with my king's army."

  "Explain yourself."

  "It would be a simple matter to bring the Kemetu army to battle. They thirst for it and have tried these past six months to do so. If they did, then it would be down to the individual bravery and skill of our soldiers pitted against Paramessu's men. Our armies are evenly matched but each has advantages and disadvantages. We have choice of battlefield as long as we retreat from them. They have discipline. If I battled them now on the open plains, an army would be destroyed. Which one is in the hands of the gods."

  "Surely the gods of Amurru will prove stronger?" Aziru asked. "I can send more priests to you."

  "More fighting men would be better."

  "You have enough already," Aziru grumbled. "And gold. Where has it all gone? What have you achieved in the past six months?"

  "I have given you a great victory," Jebu said carefully.

  Aziru stared at his general, his ringed fingers tapping on the arm of his carved chair. "He has gone mad, Ashraz. I will have to put him down like a rabid dog."

  "I am curious, majesty," replied the spy master. "Let him explain this victory that has been achieved without a battle."

  Aziru nodded. "Do so."

  "Majesty, when I resumed command of your army and that of Mursilanda, the Kemetu foe outnumbered us. Today, our numbers are about the same. Three thousand of the enemy lies dead; scattered over the plains and hills of the low lands of Kenaan. Only five hundred of our men were expended for this. If I had met Paramessu in full battle and killed six times as many men as I lost, I would be hailed a hero and a great victory would be proclaimed. Yet that is exactly what I have done."

  "Except that the Kemetu army is intact," Ashraz observed.

  "True, but I have altered the odds in our favour when I do bring them to battle."

  "That is still your intention then?"

  "Of course. We cannot invade Kemet with even a small army behind us."

  "Forgive my interruption," Mutaril said softly, "But how did you manage to kill so many Kemetu without a battle?"

  "Yes, that interests me also," Aziru said.

  "An army drawn up in battle formation needs a hammer blow to make an impression, but an army in pursuit of a retreating one is strung out over many miles, their attention is held by the sight of the retreating enemy, they are tired and thirsty. Their one thought is to catch their foe."

  "So?"

  "It is hard to make an estimate of numbers when an army is running away from you."

  "Get to the point," Aziru snarled.

  "Certainly, majesty. If Paramessu could have counted our men he might have wondered where the missing two thousand were. I'm sure he knows the numbers of our men as well as we know his."

  "Ah!" Ashraz sat back with a smile in the midst of his greasy beard.

  Aziru frowned. "What? What has he said?"

  "I sent two thousand of my men out in bands of a hundred with instructions to harass the enemy, to only attack when they outnumbered the Kemetu, to inflict maximum damage and to run at any sign of danger. It worked splendidly."

  "Very cunning," Ashraz commented. "What made you think of that?"

  Jebu shrugged and scratched his armpit. "It's what I used to do."

  Mutaril looked puzzled. "I'm sorry, General. These gentlemen may know what you used to do, but I don't."

  "I used to be the leader of a band of thugs, ambassador. We would terrorise the countryside, burn villages, plunder storehouses, kill any Kemetu troops we encountered, rape a few women. Nothing very serious but we got away with it because we were mobile and had enough sense not to tackle anything too large for us. Then I was pressed into service and became first an officer then a general."

  "And how long will you continue this er...kill and run tactic?" Mutaril looked at Aziru and his spymaster as he spoke.

  "That's not up to me," Jebu replied. "And even if it were, there are limits to its usefulness. These...how did you put it?...Kill and run tactics harass the enemy, but they do not defeat him. Sooner or later I will have to bring him to battle."

  "What are you waiting for?" Aziru asked. "Or are you afraid? Should I replace you with a man with fire in his belly?"

  Jebu's hands clenched and he forced himself to take a deep breath, willing his anger away. "I am afraid of no man, majesty. Nor am I afraid of death. But to attack a Horemheb or a Paramessu is to throw away all our advantage. I wait, hoping for a weaker commander, even for a short space. Give me that and I shall destroy the Kemetu army for you."

  "You may have your wish," Ashraz smiled. "May I tell him, majesty?"

  "You as good as have already," the king grumbled. "Go ahead."

  "Thank you majesty. Jebu, a weaker commander is on his way to the Kemetu army and there is nothing Horemheb or Paramessu can do about it."

  "That does not seem likely."

  "Yet it is so. That was the purpose of my recent spy mission into Kemet. One of my men told me of a report so important I had to see for myself. The Kemetu king, Nibhuruiya, known to them as Tutankhamen, has decided he will go to war against the Hittites."

  "But he is only a boy. What is he, ten or twelve years old? He cannot command an army."

  "Not in our world, but in Kemet, all things are possible. They regard their kings as gods." Ashraz glanced at Aziru and hid a quick smile. "Even as we speak, he leads an army of ten thousand from the river valley. He will be at the Stream of Kemet within a month."

  "That is not totally good news." Jebu stirred uncomfortably, picked up his wine cup, saw it was empty and put it down again. "Ten thousand men? Even with an untried boy in command, his officers will be able to annihilate us."

  "They are farmers and craftsmen drafted into the army with the promise of a bit of plunder. As for the officers, only General Nakhtmin shows promise...well, maybe one or two others. This is an untried army led by inexperienced officers under the command of a boy who thinks he is a god. You will not get a better chance."

  "Let us say the gods favour us and I destroy this king's army, which still leaves Paramessu's northern army intact. What have we gained except weakening my own army?" Jebu scowled and picked up his cup again as if to drink, before remembering it was empty. He tilted the cup toward Ashraz who filled it. "And what if the king joins his rabble to the northern army? We could face bloody defeat."

  Ashraz smiled again. "Nibhuruiya will not join the armies."

  "How can you be sure?"

  "Let us just
say, 'I have it on good authority'."

  "A spy?"

  "I am a spy master." Ashraz laughed out loud, eliciting a sneer from Aziru and a smile from Mutaril. "Give me some credit, good Jebu. Do you think I would bring news like this without substantiation?"

  Jebu thought about this for a few minutes, sipping at his wine. He ignored the king's impatience, the finger drumming and fidgeting, looking for a flaw in the information, and almost smiling when he found one.

  "How can you be sure the Kemetu king will not change his mind and join the armies after all? He is only an inexperienced boy, after all. I doubt he even knows his own mind."

  "A great deal of gold will remind him of our desired course of action."

  "My gold," Aziru grumbled. "There had better be a result for all this expenditure."

  "A kingdom," Ashraz said softly. "Or rather, Two Kingdoms."

  "You have bought the Kemetu king off with gold?" Jebu gaped.

  "Do not be a fool, Jebu," snapped the spy master. "Kemet has far more gold than us. I have bribed someone close to the king to feed him stories of glory, of honour, and to entertain thoughts of defeating the Hittite king."

  "An extremely remote possibility," Mutaril murmured. "Yet one that could be quite entrancing to a foolish boy who cannot see the realities."

  "Who is this spy, this close confidante of the king?"

  "Yes, who is it?" Aziru demanded. "I should know where my gold is going."

  The spy master hesitated, obviously reluctant to divulge details. "Majesty, it is not wise to let certain secrets..."

  Aziru's eyes narrowed. "Who is it you do not trust at this table? General Jebu? Our esteemed ambassador from Hatti?...or is it perhaps me?"

  "Majesty, I trust everyone at this table, it is just..."

  "Then tell us. That is an order, Ashraz."

  Ashraz sighed. "Very well, Majesty, it is General Nakhtmin."

  Jebu snorted. "Nakhtmin? Kemet's newest general? He is prepared to betray Kemet for gold?"