by Anton Gill
‘Can you really be so foolish?’ said his sister, holding him with cold eyes. He did not reply. ‘Yes,’ she continued. ‘I think you are. Perhaps it is innocence that protects you. Or is it that your ambition has no wider scope than this,’ she waved a hand in the direction of the window, through which the town was visible.
Tascherit braced himself for what was coming. He knew at least that he would not have to prompt her with questions. But as for his own ambition- well, there were worse things than those he had. The gods had been generous to him. He said so.
‘But you could have so much more,’ she replied, ‘and you could still.’
‘Why kill my son?’
‘Don’t pretend you ever cared for him.’ She looked at him keenly. Was she searching for a flicker there that might betray his true feelings towards her? Or did she still believe that he loved her? She was so jealous of anyone who came between him and her – might her jealousy blind her to anything she did not want to see? Might the very thing that had gaoled him for so long now be a means of his release?
But then she threw her next barb. ‘And he is not your son.’
His reaction was genuine; but he was not entirely surprised that she had found out. Why else kill the child?
‘Did you really think he was yours? I believe you did. He was born before the usual time, but such things happen.’ She broke off. ‘I never wanted Nesptah to arrange that marriage. Can you imagine how I felt when I saw it consummated? You were not the only fool, Tascherit. So was I. I believed Imuthes was your son. Ankhsi deceived us both.’
Tascherit remained silent, his heart racing.
‘Even Nesptah believed, though he knew every move Samut was making. What he could not understand was how Samut could be so confident. Samut had convinced Ankhsi that they could use the Aten cult as the centre of their uprising, but there had to be something more powerful for them than that alone.’ She smiled drily, pouring them both more wine. Tascherit had sat down heavily on the rug-draped couch, but she continued to walk up and down restlessly, like a caged desert cat.
‘Perhaps my husband would have put more pieces together in his heart; but he had much to think about and he was prepared to wait. He even thought for a time that Samut’s misjudged revolution would help his own plan. The plan he had made for us! Later Nesptah realised that Samut would have to be crushed, but the time had not yet come.’
Tascherit thought hard. He had been lazy. He had avoided the truth. What might he have been able to prevent if he had faced it sooner? ‘If there were plans that involved me, why was I not told of them?’
She looked at him. ‘My poor love, you were in the enemy camp. It was better that you should know nothing until the time was right. Our best help was that Samut believed he was deceiving Nesptah. His own madness was our best ally.’
‘Samut was not mad.’
‘Samut could see nothing beyond the path to his goal. he could not look round corners, see into the shadows. The more confident he was allowed to feel, the more noise he made. It was child’s play to track him.’
‘But one thing he kept secret.’
‘That was Ankhsi. She protected the boy. And Ankhsi was more dangerous than Samut. If she were to die, we did not know how the Southern Capital would react. Our chief need was to remain unknown – a little provincial city on the edge of the empire. Who would suspect a great blow to be delivered from it?’
‘By Samut?’ he asked, deliberately obtuse.
She pressed her lips together. ‘By us. Why do you think Nesptah went to see the Viceroy in Napata?’
‘The Viceroy is part of?’
She spread her hands. ‘The Viceroy is a clever man. He is useful but not to be trusted. Who knows what he had said to Samut. If Samut dared to approach him.’
‘But Nesptah has bought the Viceroy.’
‘The Viceroy has interests in the mines and in the trade. He would not want to put them in jeopardy.’
‘But everything we own is owned by the king, in the end!’
‘Exactly! All this work for one old man in the Capital. Why? Is it not natural to want it for oneself?’
‘I am the Governor here. I am the representative of the king. What are you saying?’
‘You must see now. Nesptah means to take control of this region himself. From here to Napata. He has watched Samut spreading his money in the garrisons in the belief that he has bought the officers. For a time that was a threat, but he was able to counter Samut’s spending with bribes of his own, and the officers were not as disloyal, all of them, as Samut supposed. They took the gifts, but they would not have risen against you.’
‘Nesptah could never have controlled the garrisons, with or without me.’
‘Nesptah would not have needed to, in the end. The garrisons are small. The desert tribes are large. They are harder soldiers than those Black Landers we have here, and Nesptah has promised them freedom.’
‘Freedom to live under his rule?’
‘Someone must govern. He would give them greater shares than Ay does. Because Ay simply takes. And Ay is far away.’
‘You speak of a separate nation?’
‘This is a separate nation! Why should we not control the gold supply to the Black Land for our own profit? Ay needs gold to keep his allies. He needs them as the north collapses. There is not enough gold in the Eastern Desert alone to satisfy him.’
Tascherit wanted to kill her then and there but he fought down his anger and his grief. ‘It is astute.’
‘It would have been better to wait. Not all the tribes are with us. But when Kenna arrived we knew we would have to move now.’
‘Why?’
She made a gesture of impatience. He realised that she had become so used to his being supine that she had no suspicion of being led on. He wondered how he could ever have loved this woman to the neglect of anything else. But that was long ago. It had become a dream, and even the dream was fading.
‘Because Kenna had come to take Ankhsi back to the Capital. That would have taken the linch pin from their revolution. If then they had tried to go ahead immediately – for Kenna told Nesptah that Huy had orders to bring her back before the end of the Flood – the Capital would have been alerted and our plans put into danger. We could not be sure that none of the garrisons would side with Samut. Even a local war here would have ruined our hopes.’
‘What did Nesptah plan?’
‘Nothing. I did. I needed to find out who that child was. It had to be now. And Samut had to be removed so that Ankhsi would be isolated. So I released Apuki.’
‘Apuki killed Samut.’
‘He is trained to find things out. Samut was strong; but in the end he wanted to live. He told Apuki that Imuthes is a royal child.’
‘I wonder if Samut really thought he would live.’
‘Perhaps he wanted to end the pain. It could have continued much longer. I have seen Apuki at work. He is able to keep them conscious all the time. He is very skilled.’
Tascherit looked at her as if he had never seen her before.
‘And then you killed Imuthes.’
She leant against the wall by the door. ‘Yes. It was not hard. The guard was bribed. Ankhsi was distracted by Samut’s death or she would have checked. Apuki was able to get in through the window. He told me the child felt nothing. It had barely woken.’
‘You had tried to kill them before.’
‘Yes. Clumsy attempts. Nesptah’s idea. Before he learnt how much of Samut’s confidence was bluff. The third attempt was the worst – it was only by good fortune that we managed to have that fool killed after his arrest before he could be tortured into talking. I stopped Nesptah then. But it was too late to throw that little scribe from the north off the scent.’
‘Huy has done nothing but blunder into walls.’ But so have I, thought Tascherit. I believed the first two attempts on her life were accidents. Perhaps because I wanted to. I have closed my eyes to so much. Why did I not listen to Ankhsi then? Becaus
e she had already turned her back on me? But was that not also my fault?
‘I have seen Huy,’ said Takhana. ‘He resisted me. He is a man who could find his way to us through the maze.’ She came and sat next to Tascherit, taking his hands in hers. ‘But we will still stay round one corner ahead of him. In the end, it will be you and I who will reap the harvest. It is not too late to stop Huy.’
‘Let him take Ankhsi away. Then we are rid of them without effort.’ Tascherit kept up his charade with effort. He knew Huy would be with Ankhsi and that it would not be long before he arrived here. He had made sure she knew his destination before he left. She would have guessed it anyway, he thought bitterly. It had been his habit long enoug – but he had been too weak to break from Takhana until now. Even now, as he looked at her, he was not sure that he would have the strength to do what he had to do.
‘That is exactly what we will do. Nesptah told Kenna about Ankhsi’s plans, and that Huy was involved in them. Kenna has taken that news back to the Southern Capital. They will be going to their deaths.’
‘And then Nesptah will take control here.’
She smiled again, bringing her face close to his. ‘No. We will.’
He drew away pretending to consider this. ‘You cannot kill him. He commands too much loyalty.’
‘He commands as much loyalty as he can buy. Do not think that I have not considered this. Nesptah is as blind as Samut. He thinks he is important. But he is only our tool.’
He was silent for a breath’s space before he spoke. ‘And you will use Apuki?’
‘Yes.’
‘Where is your steward now?’
‘With Nesptah. I wanted us to be alone.’
Was she telling the truth? Her eyes told him nothing. But her hand had wandered to his belly, and she was stroking him there. Suddenly he felt immeasurably tired. It was time to act. Smiling at her he disengaged himself from her embrace and undid his own belt. He placed it on the low table near them so that the handle of his dagger in its leather sheath pointed towards him. The blade had been freshly oiled that day, so he knew that it would draw easily. She had closed her eyes and lain back, but he had heard that witches could see through their eyelids. Would she die? What colour would her blood be? He loosened her robe and exposed her breasts. He caressed first the right, and then the left. He held the left breast in his hand, rubbing the nipple gently with his thumb. With his other hand he withdrew the dagger from its sheath. The sheath rustled on the table but she did not open her eyes or react. She was moaning softly, a quiet smile on her lips. Lifting the breast slightly, he drove the dagger upwards and inwards below it.
Now she opened her eyes, but he was sure she could not see him. And her blood was not black. Pushing her twitching body back on the couch he withdrew the dagger swiftly and twisted round and to his feet. He had heard a sound in the room. She had lied about Apuki and Apuki was more dangerous than a wounded crocodile.
But it was Huy who emerged from the shadows behind a pillar near the door.
The two men looked at each other. Tascherit let the dagger drop in his hand.
‘How much have you heard?’ asked Tascherit.
‘Much,’ said Huy. ‘I had come after you.’
‘I did not expect you so soon.’
‘I have been slow.’
‘Why did you not stop me?’
‘The woman wished my death.’
‘And mine.’
‘She loved you.’
‘I do not believe it. What will you do?’
Huy looked around the room. Takhana’s face was hidden under her black hair. Little blood had seeped from the wound, and her attitude in death was not ugly. She was not yet robbed of her beauty.
‘Nothing. I would like you to write letters to Ay which describe this. Samut’s death should be enough to draw the teeth of Kenna’s news to him; and with Nesptah’s betrayal revealed the news itself will be discredited. You will agree to let me take Ankhsi back. There is nothing else for me to do.’ he looked at Tascherit. ‘You will have much to do. Samut’s estates must be attached for the king. Does Nesptah have children?’
‘No.’
‘Then his property, too, will fall to Ay. It is Ay who has won this. But of course he owns us all. What has happened is that he has tightened his grip on what he already had. But perhaps down here that will be for the best.’
‘Nesptah still lives.’
Huy looked at him. ‘But not, I think, for long. You must see to it if you wish to remain Governor. Ay does not like loose ends.’
‘Apuki still lives.’ Tascherit spoke bitterly.
‘There will always be people like Apuki to do that work. When he hears of this, he may disappear or he may seek you out.’
‘We will find him. He will be impaled.’
‘His fate lies with you. The only person in this who is beyond your power now is the Viceroy; and he will thank the gods that his part in this is passed over in silence.’
‘Will you not speak of him to Ay?’
‘Why should the king believe me? The Viceroy is an opportunist. He would have done nothing alone. He will do nothing now. he may even work harder to show his loyalty.’
‘Will you not speak of me to Ay?’
Huy looked at him. ‘I need your letters to save me from Ay. He will accept explanations from you, especially as you have not made difficulties or placed conditions upon releasing Ankhsi. He will reward you. And after all, you have done more than I have to solve this.’
‘You were my enemy.’
‘You made me think so. You made me think you were one of them.’
‘I deserved to be thought one of them.’
Huy hesitated. ‘There is one thing more I want you to do for me.’
‘Yes.’
‘Find Senseneb. Send her well into the Fields.’
‘Yes.’
Ankhsi had begun her preparations for departure. Huy had left her with the two attendants who had come with her from the Southern Capital and who would return there with her now. She had taken the news he brought from Tascherit calmly and had shown almost no interest, asked no questions. She had cleaned her face and dried her tears. She wore fresh clothes and fresh makeup, and her face betrayed no more expression than a death mask. A token smear of mourning dust had been placed on her forehead, but she had taken her grief for Imuthes inside herself. What were her hopes now, Huy wondered? How did she foresee life as Ay’s Second Wife. Was it possible that she hoped to be mother to another heir? He could not believe it. Imuthes had been Tutankhamun’s son, and Ankhsi had loved her husband. All her hopes must be buried with the child. But it was not his work to guess what was in her heart.
The Seqtet boat had sailed far towards the western edge of the world when he went down to the harbour, to see how preparations for the voyage north were progressing. He had always liked ships and found comfort in the lastingness of the River, older than the gods and beyond the change that afflicted even them.
He was crossing the square where the House of Healing stood as one of the physicians, a man he recognised, came out of the building. Seeing Huy, he called to the scribe and came quickly over to him. His eyes were bright with excitement.
‘Huy.’
‘Yes.’
‘I was coming now to find you.’
The man seemed at a loss for more words.
‘What is it?’ asked Huy, infected by his excitement. A hope was rising in him which was also a fear. Could the gods have chosen this moment to give him news? But what would the news be? At least the uncertainty would be over. But hope lived in uncertainty too. Was it not better to continue in it?
‘It is Senseneb,’ he said to the physician.
‘Yes. Come.’
‘She is alive.’
The man hesitated. ‘She is alive, yes.’
‘Then take me to her.’
She lay on a white bed in a white room on her own. She had grown thinner and the skin on her arms was grazed and broken. Her hea
d rested on a low broad support of blond wood and she looked towards the ceiling. He spoke her name. She turned her head to look towards the sound.
‘They have told me,’ he said. He took her hand.
‘He brought me back,’ she said.
‘Where is he?’ Huy asked, thinking, I will kill him.
She caught the colour of his voice and said. ‘He is gone. You will not find him. He left me at a village upstream and they brought me here. I did not think you would come to me so fast.’ She tightened her grip on his hand, and looked up at him. ‘I can see your outline when you move. It is like being in the land of shadows. It is better than being in the land of darkness.’
Huy thought, will she see again? Does she know? How can I ask her? He said:
‘Where has he gone? Downstream?’
‘How can I know? He brought me from where we were in a boat. He left me at a village. That is all I know. He must have gone downstream because he would not have had enough strength to travel up. He is dying of the wound Hapu gave him.’
Huy had many questions, but they would only hurt now, so he was silent, thinking, this is not a moment for revenge. This is a moment for building. He stroked her hand.
‘What do you want? What can I do?’
‘I want to go home.’
‘We are going there. As soon as you can travel.’
She moved in the bed, making her body more comfortable. As she did so he noticed that she wore something round her neck on a leather thong. Something small in a linen bag. An amulet.
Three days after Ankhsi had departed, with Huy and Senseneb, for Kerma to join the falcon-ship that was waiting for them there, fishermen found a small abandoned boat that had come to rest in the reeds. It was a lucky find for the fishermen; it was quite sound, and it contained three valuable bronze weapons: a knife, a spearhead and a sword.
Otherwise there was nothing.
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