The Amarnan Kings, Book 3: Scarab - Tutankhamen

by Overton, Max

  "But aren't we going to keep our army here at Waset anyway?" Tutankhamen asked. "It won't matter which way they come then."

  "That is true, your majesty," Horemheb said. "However, I still look for an advantage, and there might be one if I could be sure they will take the West road. There are several places where a smaller, well-disciplined army might hold a larger one at bay. I just would not want to find myself over there and have Smenkhkare appear in the east."

  "My lords," the scribe interrupted quietly. "Mayor Mentmose has the information from the enemy itself."

  "Indeed? Why should they be so generous?" Horemheb asked. "Explain."

  "My lords, the sister of the king, er, of the rebel, went to see Mayor Mentmose and asked him many questions about the West Road. She became quite excited when told of a valley in the western cliffs called 'Lion Rock' that would lend itself to an ambush." The scribe pulled out a folded parchment and handed it to Horemheb. "Mayor Mentmose had this drawn up to show you the ambush site and the way around it. I nearly didn't get out with it as they have the city locked up like a gnat's...begging your pardons, my lords."

  Horemheb opened the map and showed it to the king and Ay. "Does the...rebel's sister know of this track behind the ambush?" he asked the scribe.

  "I don't know, my lord. Mayor Mentmose did not say, but would he not have said if they did?"

  Tutankhamen grabbed the parchment and studied it carefully. "We could surprise them here and destroy them," he said excitedly. "They'd be expecting us to come this way and we'd take them from behind."

  Ay nodded. "I think you should take the army across the river at once and destroy your enemies, your majesty."

  Horemheb dismissed the scribe with thanks, and then stood thinking while Ay and the king talked about the possibilities that had presented themselves. "I don't like this," he said at last. "In fact, the whole thing stinks of last month's fish."

  Ay broke off his conversation and looked at his rival. "What do you mean?"

  "Lady Beketaten is no fool, so why would she ask openly about an ambush site when she must know the mayor would report her inquiries? Unless she wanted us to believe they were coming that way."

  "You give that bitch too much credit," Ay sneered. "Besides, didn't the scribe just tell us the enemy has Ta-senet locked up tightly? If she thought that, she might well be careless. She is only a woman after all, not someone trained in military strategy."

  "Perhaps, but there are other minds available to them..."

  "Well, I'm going to take the legions across to the West Road," Tutankhamen announced. "I'll find them at this Lion Rock and smash them like I did the Hittites and Amorites."

  "I'd counsel caution, your majesty. In the first place, those three legions are about a third of the enemy force, and second, Menkure is a far more cunning general than even Jebu the Amorite."

  "My men will have the strength of three and the courage of lions, for their king will be leading them. And am I not a better general even than Menkure, even as I overcame Jebu?"

  "To put it bluntly, your majesty, no." Horemheb looked grim and ignored the rage and mortification showing in the king's face. "I have heard the accounts of the battle with the Amorites and we can thank all the gods that you have an excellent general in Paramessu. Without him, you would have died that day." His face softened as he looked at his young king. "No-one doubts your courage, your majesty. And in time you will become a king more famous than any of your predecessors, but never mistake your courage for the wisdom and experience that comes with age. Leave being general to those trained to it. Your day will come--you are young yet."

  Tutankhamen's lower lip quivered. "I cannot just sit in Waset while my army is fighting," he whispered. "I will be called a coward."

  "No man says such a thing in my hearing, majesty. I will not countenance it..." The chamberlain put his head round the door again and coughed discreetly. "What is it?"

  "My lords, another messenger from Ta-senet . Er, in fact, there are five of them."

  "Five?" Ay snorted derisively. "The pretender's security has more holes in it than a fishing net, if five more have escaped."

  "Send them in."

  The five men trooped in and knelt in front of the king and the Tjatys of Kemet. One of them had evidently been voted their spokesman for he was the only one who spoke. "Great King, live forever; illustrious lords; we bear a message from our commander, General Nakhtmin of the Amun legion. He bids us tell you that the legion has been conscripted to build and repair a road from Ta-senet on the west bank of Iteru. The general says that he can think of no reason for this road save that of facilitating the rebel army."

  "What is your name and rank, soldier?" Horemheb asked quietly.

  "Uto, sir. I am a legionary."

  "Well, Uto. Did you see this road of which your general speaks? You or these others here?"

  "Yes, sirs. We all worked on it."

  "And how long was this road?"

  "What does the length have to do with anything?" Tutankhamen asked.

  "A moment, your majesty. Uto, answer please."

  "I don't know sir. Several thousand paces I'd say. We were well out of sight of the town."

  "How did you escape?"

  "General Nakhtmin and some others started a fight. When the guards went to break it up, we ran."

  "Did any see you escape? Be sure on this point."

  "No sir, not a chance."

  "What about later, when your comrades returned to barracks? Would you have been missed then?"

  "No sir. Leastways I don't think so, sir. They was pretty casual about taking us out in the morning, didn't count us or nothing."

  Horemheb nodded. "Alright, you have answered well, legionary. One more question--what is the road like past the point at which you were working?"

  "Like, sir?" Uto screwed up his face in thought. "Do you mean was it a good road? Yes sir. Leastways it was after another thousand paces or so. It was bad just where it crossed the fields around the town. After that it was an easy run down to Western Waset."

  "What about Lion Rock? What's that like?"

  "Don't know no Lion Rock, sir. Leastways, we didn't see one, did we boys?" Uto appealed to his fellow legionaries. He received nothing more than silent head shakes.

  "Thank you, legionary. Report to the Heru legion. Get some food and a bit of rest. We march before noon." Horemheb dismissed the men with a salute and a smile.

  "You look very happy with yourself," Ay said sourly. "What did that tell us we did not already know?"

  "Nothing, but it confirmed it. Lady Beketaten's questions alone may have been her trying to lay a false trail, but the Amun legionaries give independent information of their intentions. Smenkhkare's army will come down the West Road..."

  "What about the length of the road?" Tutankhamen complained. "I don't like being put off like that. I'm not a child."

  "I am sorry, your majesty, but I needed to follow a line of questioning with the soldiers. The length of road being built is important in that it tells us whether the road is a ruse or real. I do not think they would build a fake road for thousands of paces--not when they know the need for quick action. Therefore it is real and I intend to take my three legions and trap them at Lion Rock."

  "So the ambush at Lion Rock will happen then? It's not just a ruse either?" Tutankhamen chewed his lip, frowning hard. "I'm confused."

  "If it is just a ruse and the army left three or four days ago, they will almost be here by now," Ay observed. "All this information may have come too late."

  "That is why I will leave within the hour. I can strip my legions bare and live off the land for added speed. We have all the boats we need to cross the river."

  "Can't I come, Tjaty Horemheb?" Tutankhamen asked wistfully. "Please?"

  "Not this time, majesty. Your place is here in Waset where you will give us all something to fight for."

  "But I don't want to just sit in my palace and do nothing."

  "Nor will you,
your majesty," Ay said. "You will conduct the defense of Waset. Isn't that right, Lord Horemheb?"

  Horemheb hesitated, trying to work out what was on Ay's mind. "Yes, defend the city, your majesty. The city needs you." He bowed low and took his leave, his mind already on his three legions and the need for speed in their race to Lion Rock.

  Tutankhamen stood on the highest tower of the palace walls and watched the fleet of barges and boats ferry Horemheb's three legions, the Heru, Re and Khent-abt, across the river in a shuttle of small craft. They formed up in ranks on the western bank, trampling the crops and flattening the rich green sward of grass in the cattle pastures before marching away into the distance. The king watched them wistfully, wishing he had had the courage to stand up to Horemheb and demand to go. I am king, after all . He was even finding it harder to resist Ay, the Tjaty of Ta Shemau, whom he and Horemheb had come to depose. The old man stood, as wizened as any dead body after its long bath in natron, behind him on the battlements, and he could feel the hatred and contempt washing over him. Tutankhamen refused to give any sign of his fear and straightened his back and adopted a truculent expression before turning to face his enemy.

  "Come, Tjaty Ay, we will tour the defenses. I want to measure the quality of your preparations."

  The king led his great-uncle and his guard along the battlements, descending into storerooms and guard posts, examining the state of the brickwork, the quality of the weapons and armour and a hundred other minutiae of a city preparing for a siege. He talked to the few remaining soldiers, the towering Nubian Medjay and the scarred and crippled veterans on whom the defense of the city lay, encouraging them and joking with them, finding a fund of maturity and commonsense that impressed everyone he talked to.

  By sunset, the king was exhausted but exhilarated, and he took another measure of satisfaction in seeing Ay stagger off to bed, complaining of pains in his chest. I hope he dies. It would save me a lot of trouble .

  Ay stayed in his bed the next day, so Tutankhamen set off with his guards on another round of city inspections, measuring the temple granaries and offering up sacrifices in one temple after another, finishing in the early afternoon at the Great Temple of Amun. The priests, led by First Prophet Bakt, made much of him, praising him as Defender of the City of Amun, and Tutankhamen responded with another large grant of land to the temple coffers.

  As he left the temple precincts, intending to return to the palace for a rest in the heat of the day, the king heard the shouts from the guards on the south wall and hurried instead to the battlements.

  "There, Great King," murmured the captain of the guard, a grizzled old man with a scar running the length of his face. He pointed to the south, where the East Road ran. "An army is coming."

  A cloud of dust obscured the horizon, the tail stretching out over the eastern desert. Tutankhamen stood and stared while the city fell silent, and distantly, he heard the muffled boom of thousands of men marching closer. When the first men in the black tide that inched toward them came in sight, Tutankhamen shook himself and beckoned messengers. "Bring Tjaty Ay here immediately. No excuses. If he is dead, bring his body." As the first messenger disappeared into the depths of the palace, the king turned to another messenger. "Take a boat and find Lord Horemheb. Tell him Smenkhkare's army is upon us from the east. Hurry."

  Tutankhamen sent for food and wine, and had chairs set out under fans and parasols where he and Ay could observe the flood of Nubians creep over the plains of Waset until they broke against the high walls and receded, leaving an empty space around the city. The sun set, but still there was no sign of Horemheb, so the king leaned over the ramparts of the wall and stared down at thousands of tiny campfires, wondering which one warmed his half-brother, which one his half-sister lay asleep beside.

  Ay pleaded tiredness and went to bed, shrugging his contempt of the encircling army. "They are only Nubians, after all."

  Tutankhamen stayed up with only a small candle in a pot to light him, his robe tucked tightly to ward off the night's chill. He watched the constellation of fires on the plain below, then stared up at the belly of Nut and felt wonder at the limitless beauty of land and sky in his Kemet. The river flowed unseen in the west, the soft slap of the rippled water reminding him of its presence even as it soothed his mind. Turning, he saw the city lying in darkness; fear an almost palpable blanket overlying it, even as wood smoke covered it like a linen sheet. For the first time he thought of the citizens of Kemet as real people, with lives of their own to live--not just as people to do the king's bidding or work to the king's glory. The sky and plain and city expanded away from him, making him feel small, almost insignificant.

  "Th...that is nonsense. I am the king, the king of the Two Kingdoms of Kemet. I am somebody."

  The moon rose, bathing city, river and plain in a pearly glow. Somewhere in the city a child cried, on the battlements a hundred paces away an unseen guard coughed. In the camp below the walls, a man laughed and far across the river, toward the valley where the tombs of the kings and queens lay, a lone jackal howled. Tutankhamen shivered, feeling very alone, but also feeling his childhood slipping away from him, to be replaced by a determination to do what was right for his people.

  "I must do something," he murmured to the night breeze. "If Horemheb does not arrive by tomorrow noon, I will speak with my brother and see if we cannot spare our poor land from more bloodshed."

  Return to Contents

  * * *

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Noon came and went on the next day and the watchmen on the river walls reported nothing moving on the western bank. Tutankhamen, sitting in the royal chambers reclaimed from Ay, was brought the news and he nodded, dismissing the messenger with a wave of his hand. He sent the palace Chamberlain to find Tjaty Ay and bring him to the South Gate.

  "Horemheb has been delayed," he muttered. "I must do something." The king called his servants to him and spent some time preparing for a formal reception, selecting state robes, jewelry and the double crown with its uraeus of kingly authority. My brother was king; we will meet as equals and decide this . He squinted at the rippled image of himself in a polished copper plate and nodded his satisfaction.

  Ay paced by the South Gate, agitated and annoyed at the summons and then by the long delay. Around him, troops were assembling under the command of General Psenamy, though he put more stock in straight ranks and clean kilts than in battle-readied weapons. Ay had asked the general what was happening, but Psenamy professed ignorance, saying only that he had his orders from the king. When the king appeared at last, driving his light war chariot, Ay gawked for a moment before hurrying to intercept his king.

  "Where are you going?" he asked abruptly, treating the king as the wayward small boy he had once been. "Why was I not consulted?"

  Tutankhamen reined in his horses and stared down at Ay with lidded eyes. "I am king, and you are just my Tjaty." He looked across to where Psenamy had brought his soldiers to attention. "General Psenamy," he called. "You and your men will accompany me to the enemy camp."

  "Are you mad?" Ay yelled. "You will be killed before..." The Tjaty caught hold of himself and stared at the young king in a calculating manner. "What do you hope to achieve, majesty?" he asked quietly.

  "I think I can end this dispute here and now, today, without thousands more of my people dying."

  Ay licked his lips and glanced around at the people of Waset and the waiting soldiers and lowered his voice so only the king could hear. "For these people, majesty? They are peasants."

  "Nevertheless, they are my people. Even the Nubians encamped outside the city are from Wawat and Kush. They are my people too. It is one thing to war against the Hittites and Amorites, another to carry misery and death to fellow Kemetu. I will not do it."

  Ay bowed, hiding a smile. "The gods will look down on such nobility of spirit with favour, majesty."

  "Yes." Tutankhamen called across to Psenamy. "Open the gates, and have your men reverse their spears. I would no
t want them to think we were attacking them." He flicked the reins and his chariot started forward.

  Psenamy's men ran to the gates and unbarred them, heaving them ponderously open before running back to their ranks. As the king's chariot pulled in front of the company of soldiers, the general gave a command and the men fell in behind, marching slowly through the open gates and onto the river plain of Waset. Ahead lay the encampment of the enemy, a seething mass of humanity preparing themselves for battle.

  Tutankhamen glanced around quickly to see Psenamy marching at the head of his company of two hundred men, mostly wounded veterans and Medjay. Ahead of them lay twenty thousand men, a hundred times their number, and for a moment the boy inside the king quailed. His hands trembled so that the horses felt the uncertainty through the reins and tossed their heads, whinnying and snorting. He saw that the Nubians closest to the city were on their feet now, pointing and shouting at the tiny procession marching straight out from the city. The boy in him drew back, but the man in him smiled and took charge, shaking the reins and calling out soothingly to his horses. He aimed the chariot directly at the Nubian line.

  The line of unsmiling Nubian soldiers held their weapons drawn and barred the way, so that Tutankhamen wondered if it was all going to end there, long before he got to see his half-brother. Will they overwhelm me and slaughter us all when I break the line ? As he reached the line a command rang out and the soldiers drew back swiftly, opening up a corridor into the midst of the army. The chariot and column entered, and the corridor closed behind them, cutting them off from any hope of retreat. A hand took the bridle of the right hand horse, bringing the chariot to a halt and Tutankhamen looked down at the audacious man in surprise. No, not a man ...

  "What are you doing here Nebkheperure Tutankhamen?" asked the woman in a pleasant voice.

  The king cleared his throat before speaking, the red-haired woman standing before him with a hand controlling his horses unsettled him for some reason. "My business is with my brother Smenkhkare."