The Amarnan Kings, Book 3: Scarab - Tutankhamen

by Overton, Max

  "You said you did not know of any ambush sites."

  "I don't, but if there was one..."

  "Then Horemheb would come to hear of it and may decide to close the trap on us instead. It could work."

  "Providing there is a believable site."

  "Always that," Huni said firmly. "Well, I doubt anyone in our army knows, but the officials in Ta-senet may be more familiar with the countryside hereabouts. We will just have to ask them."

  Scarab and Huni left their elevated station and climbed down to Ta-senet , where after a slight delay, the mayor received them in his residence.

  "I am honoured," the mayor said, bowing to Scarab and affording Huni a lesser but still respectful nod.

  "Thank you, Mentmose," Scarab replied. "If you will forgive our intrusion, we are seeking information." The mayor bowed again but said nothing. "You realise that my questions are purely for interest, and despite being the king's sister, I have no knowledge of his intentions?"

  "Of course," Mentmose murmured, but his eyes brightened at the thought of possible advantage.

  "How familiar are you with the West road from here to the Western Palace of Waset?"

  "You mean to..." Mentmose clamped down on his surprise. "Not very, Lady, but I have a scribe who travels that route from time to time. He has a relative in one of the farming communities, I believe. Let me send for him."

  The scribe arrived and was introduced to Scarab and Huni. "Scribe Ratep, this lady is Lady Beketaten, sister to...aah, King Smenkhkare. Please answer her questions to the best of your ability."

  Scarab and Huni quizzed Ratep about the West road for several minutes, not stressing any particular aspect of the route but just getting general information on the quality of the road, the nature of the land and the vegetation. After a while, Scarab looked at Huni pointedly before asking Ratep another question.

  "The road sounds like it is an easy one to travel but I am concerned that there might be places of danger, Scribe Ratep. Can you think of any places where...er, say a gang of bandits might lay in wait, unseen, for unwary travelers?"

  The scribe was silent for a bit, then said nervously, "I...I'm sorry, Lady, but I took my oath to King Tutankhamen. I don't know that I...that I should answer."

  "Why not? When my brother is enthroned once more he will want to make the roads safe for everyone. Such knowledge would be useful."

  "I...er," Ratep looked to the mayor beseechingly.

  "You may tell them, Ratep," Mentmose said firmly. "I will take full responsibility."

  "Yes, mayor Mentmose." Ratep looked unhappy but continued haltingly. "About two-thirds of the way to Western Waset...there is a rock called, er...Lion Rock because..."

  "Because it looks like a lion," Huni said. "We understand."

  "No, sir," Ratep said. "It is just a pile of rocks, but a lion had its den there some years ago. Anyway, there is a small valley that runs north and though you can see it plain enough when you travel toward Waset, it is invisible if you are coming the other way until you are past it."

  Scarab allowed herself a triumphant grin. "How large is this valley? Large enough for a hundred men to hide in? A thousand? More?"

  "I don't know, Lady," Ratep said, a despondent look on his face. He cast a reproachful look at the mayor. "It is large though."

  "Draw it for me." Scarab walked over to the mayor's desk and selected a scrap of paper, a pot of ink and a fine paintbrush, pushing them toward the scribe. Showing obvious reluctance, Ratep complied. Scarab examined the sketch carefully. "Is there any back way into this valley? If we had a bandit gang in there, could we surprise them by coming up behind them or something?"

  "There is a way," Mentmose chipped in as Ratep hesitated. "But it is not common knowledge." He pointed to the sketch map with a bony finger.

  Scarab made a few notations on the map before rolling it up. "Thank you Mayor Mentmose--Scribe Ratep, for your assistance. You may be sure that my brother will remember you when he is enthroned once more." She accepted the bows of the officials and departed with Huni. They sat in one of the gardens near the temple of Amun and discussed their treasure.

  "Is it accurate?" Huni wanted to know. "You could tell the scribe did not want to tell us. What if he told us lies?"

  "I don't think so. He obeyed the mayor promptly enough."

  "That's another question. Is the mayor loyal?"

  Scarab laughed. "Of course not, you saw his eyes light up when we mentioned the West road. By now he is convinced my brother means to march along the west bank to Waset. He will find a way to get a message to Horemheb, and guess what it will say."

  Huni grinned. "That we take the West road."

  "And that we plan to ambush him at Lion Rock. He will spend more time working around behind where he thinks we are, giving us plenty of time to present him with a finished battle. With one king of Kemet and Ay dead, he will kneel to my brother and we will have peace again."

  "That was quickly done," Huni said, rubbing his hands together. "We'd better go and report to the king."

  "Not yet. There is still no sign that we really intend to take that route. As far as the mayor knows, the king may reject our plan. We must offer him some other evidence."

  "What?"

  "Let us build the West road. Oh, not the whole thing," Scarab hurriedly added at seeing Huni's shocked appearance. "Just the start of it. A few hundred paces at best."

  "Even that will take a several hundred men and the king and Menkure will not be happy we are taking men away from other vital work."

  "We will not use our own men, we'll use the men of the Amun legion." Scarab said with a triumphant grin.

  "The Amun legion? Why would they help? They are the enemy."

  "True, but I think we can offer them an incentive."

  "And what if they escape? I know they've given their word, but it is always possible a few will break it if the opportunity arises."

  "That's what I'm counting on."

  It proved a little more difficult to arrange matters than they thought, but eventually, armed with official permission from Menkure, Scarab and Huni gained access to the barracks where General Nakhtmin and the remnants of the Amun legion were housed. There was some initial reluctance to aid what they saw as the enemy war effort, but with a little cajolery and some significant increases in rations, Nakhtmin allowed his men to be used for work that did not directly help Smenkhkare.

  "We will help making the road," Nakhtmin said, "Because that helps everyone. Besides," he added, with a touch of humour, "As it is Nebkheperure's men doing the work, Nebkheperure can quite rightly claim the credit."

  The work progressed at a rapid rate, the Amun legionnaires being kept under surveillance by a few dozen Nubian soldiers as they wielded hoe and mattock, carrying soil and stones, chipping away at hillocks and filling in hollows. Others came behind, watering the freshly disturbed earth and tamping it down with heavy stones.

  By the second day, the broad road was out of sight of Ta-senet , plunging northward along the western bank of Iteru, through farmland and groves of date palms. Scarab increasingly allowed Nakhtmin time alone with his men and quietly ordered the Nubian guards to stay away from the front line of the workings. Toward sunset, Nakhtmin returned and engaged Scarab in idle conversation concerning her time in Nubia, keeping her distracted. When shouting broke out in the rear, several hundred paces from the front, he joined her as she ran back to investigate.

  A fight had broken out between two work gangs compressing the earth and more and more men were joining in by the minute. Scarab ordered Nakhtmin to control his men but for many minutes his efforts were ineffectual. The Nubian soldiers waded in, but although the Amun legionnaires offered no resistance to their spear-wielding captors, neither would they cease their disruption. Then suddenly, Nakhtmin's words had the desired effect and the brawl subsided within moments. The Nubians marched the prisoners back to their barracks, with instructions not to make any effort at counting them.

  Huni
stood with Scarab on the leveled and packed road and watched the prisoners marching back to Ta-senet . "Did it work?"

  Scarab smiled happily. "Oh yes, I'm sure of it. That was a splendid little diversion. Word is being carried to Horemheb even as we speak."

  That evening, a huge flotilla of rafts made of wood and inflated hides drifted down the river, with the men of the Nubian army keeping pace on the river bank. Menkure had, in the meantime, arranged for several stout ropes to be ferried across to the eastern bank, with boats anchored at points along their long curved lines.

  "We embark at dawn tomorrow," Menkure told his king. "I'm leaving a thousand men behind to keep Ta-senet closed down until after we leave. I still want them to think we are taking the West road in case any of them think to send a late messenger to Waset."

  "Then my sister's ruse worked?"

  Menkure nodded solemnly. "My spies saw five men of the Amun legion leave singly, and a man from the mayor's residence was allowed out fishing this evening. He and his boat never returned. I'd say the Lady Beketaten has proved her worth again."

  Smenkhkare smiled. "You have both been invaluable to me. When we have retaken my throne, I shall reward both of you. I think it is time you became part of the royal family."

  "My lord!" Menkure fell to his knees and kissed his king's hand. "I am indeed honoured...but, will Lady Beketaten feel honoured too? My family is not of the highest rank."

  "It will be," Smenkhkare said. "And my sister Scarab will do her duty to Kemet and her king."

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  Chapter Thirty-One

  Tutankhamen had wanted to act immediately to depose Ay but Horemheb managed to persuade him to wait. "Inevitably, there will be some instability as a result of a change of power. It would be better if this did not come just when we faced the pretender and his army."

  The king allowed himself to be influenced and at the meeting in the desert, north of Waset, had been cool but polite to his southern Tjaty, offering up the fiction that he had brought his northern Tjaty and three legions south purely as a ceremonial visit to the principal cities of Kemet--something Ay did not believe for a minute but was not about to admit to. They had returned to Waset immediately, where Horemheb's three legions strained the resources of the Amun barracks. Following a meal and a bathe, Tutankhamen had summoned both Tjatys to the Hall of Audience in the old palace.

  Ay bowed and chatted as if he and the young king were still friends, still the uncertain boy and his wise counselor, but he saw the hold Horemheb had over the king and knew his life and position teetered on a knife edge. He made much of the incipient threat of the Nubian army advancing unexpectedly from Kharga and made certain both king and general realised the sacrifice he and his adopted son Nakhtmin had made in sending the Amun legion south to buy them all time.

  "I virtually stripped the city of its defenses to ensure General Nakhtmin had sufficient men to delay the pretender," Ay said. "It was a gamble but as soon as I heard you were on your way south, I knew I was justified."

  "How did you know we were coming?" Horemheb asked.

  Ay raised his eyebrows. "Good government is based on accurate information, Tjaty Horemheb," he said unctuously. "I hear most of what goes on in Kemet."

  "Ta Shemau is your sole concern, Tjaty Ay, not the whole of Kemet."

  Ay smiled to himself, noting the anger underlying Horemheb's words. "Unless it impacts on the security and well-being of all of Kemet, as does the pretender's approach."

  "Why do you keep calling him 'pretender'?" Tutankhamen found it hard to be civil to the man he had come to destroy and looked to complain instead. "He is my brother after all, and we are both sons of Nebmaetre Amenhotep."

  "Of course, your majesty, but I can hardly call him 'king', though he was crowned and anointed before you. He died but the gods spared his life and now he seeks to return from the Western Lands and reclaim his throne. He pretends it is his still, so I call him 'pretender'."

  Tutankhamen grunted and turned away, walking around the cool, tiled Hall of Audience in the Great Palace of Waset. It was new to him as when he had lived in Waset before, he had ruled from the Western palace constructed by his father Nebmaetre and he showed a great interest in the furnishings and ornaments. Ignoring the many ornate chairs and couches, he hoisted himself onto a large table and sat with his legs swinging. Taking out his little knife made of iron which was a gift from Judge Seti of Zarw, he started whittling his nails. Ay maintained an impassive face but his eyes gleamed as he regarded the king who was still a small boy. Horemheb, for his part, tried to get the king to accept a chair, but when Tutankhamen refused, had to be content to suffer the sight of the king demeaning himself in front of his enemy.

  "Why have you made General Nakhtmin your son, Tjaty Ay?" Tutankhamen asked after a long silence. "You scarcely need an heir."

  "Your majesty, it is the wish of every man to have children and grandchildren, but the gods have ordained that my grand-daughter prove incapable of bearing children. Nakhtmin, however, is a young man still and will give me many grandsons."

  The king's jaw tightened and he glared at his southern Tjaty. "You forget yourself, Ay."

  "Indeed, your majesty, if I have offended you in any way, I apologise." Ay bowed deeply to hide his satisfaction. Now that he dwelt on the knife edge he found he enjoyed pushing at the boundaries of safety with this boy. "Please remember that being related to your majesty..."

  "By marriage!"

  "By marriage, certainly your majesty, but the fact is that I would welcome a royal heir. I merely attempted to point out the reason for my decision to adopt an heir--as your majesty commanded."

  "And where are General Nakhtmin and the Amun legion now?" Horemheb asked. "Have you had word?"

  "I had regular reports up to three days ago. Since then nothing."

  "You are not worried?"

  "Of course I am. What father would not be? However, he was under orders to delay the enemy and fall back so he will not take unnecessary chances. I expect one of his messengers has befallen some accident and another will arrive soon with news."

  "Where was the pretender...Smenkhkare, three days ago then?"

  "About halfway between Kharga and Ta-senet ."

  "So he could be in Ta-senet by now? You do realise that is only about four days away? Less if he uses the river. Gods above and below, Ay, we could have an army at the gates any time."

  "Indeed? And what do you suggest we do that I have not already done? The walls are fortified, the granaries are full, the Medjay is on alert and every possible troublemaker has been locked up or executed. Your three legions will protect us, I'm sure."

  "Against twenty thousand men?" Horemheb smiled mirthlessly.

  "Nubians, Horemheb. Scarcely a match for your northern legions."

  "Do not underestimate the Nubian warriors, Ay. I have seen them fight. Properly trained they would be a match for any in Kemet, and Menkure will have trained them well."

  "They will not fight against me, Horemheb," Tutankhamen said loudly. "You forget, Prince Hiknefer and Prince Khai are personal friends of mine."

  "Princes Hiknefer and Khai are city Nubians, your majesty," Horemheb explained. "Also, they come from the provinces of Wawat and northern Kush. The rebels are from the deep south of Kush and have never even been civilised, much less entertained notions of friendship toward your majesty."

  Tutankhamen shrugged. "Then we must crush them so they never dare rebel again."

  The two Tjatys said nothing, both silently agreeing that the king was out of touch with reality. In the silence came a knock on the doors of the Hall. A few moments later, the palace chamberlain entered and bowed deeply, first to the king, then in an agony of indecision over precedence, bowed to a spot equidistant between the Tjatys.

  "Your majesty, my lords...er, my lords, there is a messenger."

  "Ah, a message from Nakhtmin," Ay said. "You see, I told you one would arrive. Send him in."

 
"My lord, he is not from the Amun legion, he is on the mayor of Ta-senet 's staff--a junior scribe I believe."

  "He brings news of the enemy." Tutankhamen jumped down from the table and raised the startled chamberlain to his feet. "Go and get him. At once."

  The chamberlain hurried off and within a minute, for the man had been waiting just outside the door, returned with the messenger.

  The scribe was quite overcome by the company and fell to the floor, quaking in fear. "G...great majesty...I come with news fr...from Ta-senet ."

  "Then say it!" Ay snapped. "Get on with it. Does it concern my son, General Nakhtmin? Is he dead?"

  The scribe looked startled and glanced between his king and the aged Tjaty. "No sir, he is well...or was when I left Ta-senet , sir."

  "Just tell us, scribe," Tutankhamen said gently. "No harm will come to you, no matter what the news, but we must know it."

  "Yes majesty." The scribe took a deep breath and let it out in a ragged gust. "The rebel and his army arrived five days ago, with general Nakhtmin and the remnants of the Amun legion. They are held captive in Ta-senet , my lords."

  "How many men?" Horemheb asked.

  "About five hundred sir, many of them wounded."

  Horemheb smiled briefly. "I meant the rebel army, lad."

  "Oh. Sorry sir. A...about twenty thousand I think, sir. I have had to open the granaries and...well, I didn't count them sir..."

  "Easy lad. Now, what is the rebel army doing? When do they march on Waset and which way are they coming?"

  "Mayor Mentmose sent me three days ago, my lords. The rebels were still in Ta-senet then and nobody knew when they would march. He did give me a message, my lords, regarding the route. They are taking the West road to Western Waset."

  �"Are you sure?" Horemheb frowned. "The logical and easy route would be along the main army road on the eastern bank."

  �"Perhaps that is why," Ay said. "The unexpected."

  �Horemheb grunted. "And Smenkhkare...or rather, Menkure, will often do the unexpected, like coming from Kharga instead of from the south. Maybe we are meant to think that, drawing our defenses away."