The Amarnan Kings, Book 5: Scarab - Horemheb

by Overton, Max

  The five of them sat in silence for a while, sipping on their beer and contemplating the problem. At length, Scarab stirred.

  "There may be a way. When I was a girl I left the North Palace of Akhet-Aten unseen by disguising myself as a servant girl. Nobody pays attention to them, so I may be able to just walk past the guards."

  Khu grinned. "I remember. You turned up at my father's farm across the river all muddy and scared."

  "Forgive my doubt, Eye of Geb," Salom said. "You may have been able to do it as...as an adolescent girl, but now? You look royal and commanding. Nobody would be fooled."

  "You think not? If I exchange my fine robes for a plain servant's kilt, shave these distinctive locks of hair from my head, and keep my eyes downcast, how am I different from any servant woman?"

  "There is the matter of your eye," Nebhotep said gently. "It is not a common injury."

  "I can do it. I will show you. Shave my head now and fetch me a short kilt."

  Khu shook his head. "I believe you can, Scarab, but you should not prove it now. If you shave, everyone will know that Lady Khepra has done it, and the guards are more likely to look closely at the women passing."

  "Then we should leave now. Why wait? Nebhotep, are you fit to travel?"

  "No lady. As I said before, you must leave me behind. It is the only way."

  "Never. You are a friend. Horemheb would take his revenge on you."

  "In truth, lady, that would be a mercy. This growth in my belly will kill me in a few short months and there will be much pain. I have seen it in other men and I have no desire to sample that torment."

  "I cannot do it. What sort of a friend would I be to just abandon you, knowing what must happen?"

  "But you must. What sort of a subject would I be if I could not give my life for my queen?"

  "He is right, Scarab," Khu said gently. "A man has the right to do his duty. I will mourn his loss but honour his bravery and sacrifice. Every one of us would willingly die for you."

  Scarab stared at Khu, and then at the others, before shaking her head.

  "Now is the time to be a king," Khu went on. "Make the hard choices that you know to be right. This may be your only chance of freedom. You owe it to Kemet."

  "Do not shame me," Nebhotep whispered. "Let me die knowing I have helped you."

  Scarab threw her arms around the old physician and wept on his shoulder. After a bit, she sniffed and dried her cheeks on the sleeves of her robe. "No king could ask for a better friend."

  "Then let us do it," Khu said. "I will fetch shears and a sharp knife."

  "No." Nebhotep shook his head. "If we shave Scarab's head now, she may be able to slip out unseen, but you know they won't let the rest of you out unless they are certain she is in the palace. You must leave first."

  "Makes sense," Terrik agreed. "We can still shave her head and get her ready though. She could even come out with us."

  Nebhotep sighed. "Think it through. The guards have to be certain Scarab is still in the palace before they let you out. How will they do that? Probably by sending a guard to check her rooms."

  "Alright, then we must leave first. Scarab must go to her rooms and wait until the guards have checked her to be still here."

  "You will also have to leave through the same guard post and within the same shift; otherwise the new guards will do another check."

  "There might be a problem with that," Scarab said. "You would normally leave by the main entrance, but a servant would leave at the rear, through the kitchens."

  Khu swore. "We will have to leave through the kitchens, then."

  "That will look suspicious." Scarab thought for a moment. "There might be a way. Bring a razor to this room. I will also need a large bundle of dirty linen, a servant's kilt and a jug of wine. Meet me back here as soon as you can." She got to her feet, looking resolute.

  "What are you going to do?"

  "You'll see." Scarab hurried off and had a servant direct her to the palace under-chamberlain, Suteph. He was supervising the transfer of linen garments from the suites previously occupied by Nakhtmin, the deceased son of Ay, to storage rooms.

  Suteph bowed when Scarab entered the room. "Lady Khepra, how may I serve you?"

  "Is Lord Horemheb within the palace? Nobody seems to know."

  Suteph looked surprised. "I don't see why not, Lady Khepra. He is with General Paramessu in the Throne Room adjunct. Shall I send a servant to ask if he will see you?"

  "I am quite capable of doing that myself, Suteph. What of my friend Lord Khu? Do you know where he is?"

  Suteph pursed his lips in distaste. "I do not know, Lady Khepra."

  "The reason I ask is that he and his friends were talking about a flask of wine or two, and when he gets drunk...well, he makes rather a lot of noise."

  "That would not be appropriate, Lady Khepra."

  "I agree, which is why I'm looking for him. If you see him, please send for me."

  Scarab left Suteph, knowing that part of the under-chamberlain's duties were the maintenance of order within the palace. He would make an effort to curtail a drinking party that might disturb Horemheb. She made her way back to Nebhotep's room and found the others present, nervously pacing as they waited.

  "You have everything?" she asked. "Good, now splash a bit of wine on yourselves. You have to give the impression you have been drinking. Go down to the kitchens and start singing and dancing. Appear drunk."

  "What good will that do?" Khu objected. "We'll only draw attention to ourselves."

  "That's the idea. No doubt Suteph will show up and demand you stop...or..." Scarab smiled, "...take your party outside the palace by the shortest route, through the kitchens."

  "And you?"

  "I'll be there too. Nebhotep, you wait here and with luck I'll see you shortly."

  Scarab returned, grinning. "I really believed Khu was drunk. He sang and he danced and upset pans, and Terrik and Salom were almost as bad. Suteph turned up and almost had a fit. If I had not been there, he might have locked them up, but instead we marched them to the nearest door and ejected them. I made a point of saying, within earshot of the guards, that all this had given me a headache and I was going to lie down."

  "Then let us proceed with the next stage then," Nebhotep said. He picked up the shears and gestured to a stool. "Be seated, my lady. Your hairdresser awaits."

  For the next several minutes he clipped and cut Scarab's red-brown locks, littering the tiled floor around them. He then took a bowl of warm water and a sharpened bronze razor and carefully shaved her head and then dried it with a cloth. He held up a copper mirror for her to admire herself.

  Scarab grimaced. "My head looks pale, as if it is freshly shaved. A servant would be like this all the time."

  Nebhotep grunted and thought for a moment. "I think I have some pigments among my herbs and potions." He rummaged among his shelves and selected a pot. "This should do." A few minutes later, the paler skin on Scarab's head had darkened a few shades. "That will have to do. Hopefully, the guards won't look too closely at you."

  Scarab held up the short servant's kilt and laughed nervously. "I'd forgotten just how short these were. It has been a while since I wandered around almost naked." She slipped her dress off and fitted the kilt around her waist, suddenly very conscious that her breasts were no longer the firm ones she used to have. "How do I look?"

  Nebhotep coughed and looked away. "It is not seemly, my lady."

  "I am no longer Lady Khepra or even Scarab," she said. "I am just a servant woman come to pick up your dirty linen." Scarab bent and picked up the bundle and positioned it on her right shoulder. "You see? If I keep it close, the laundry covers my right eye nicely."

  Nebhotep nodded. "May the gods be with you, my lady."

  Scarab lowered the bundle and looked as if she might cry. "I may never see you again, my dear friend."

  "That, too, is with the gods. Go now, quickly, my lady, before you unman me."

  Scarab stepped forward and
embraced him. "I will see you again, Nebhotep. Count on it." She raised her bundle and hurried from the room.

  The corridors that led to the kitchens were busy and Scarab kept her face obscured as she squeezed by other servants intent on their own duties. Nobody gave her more than a passing glance though, so she relaxed a bit. The door that lay to the outside was near the kitchens and was guarded by two bored soldiers. They had little to occupy them and often engaged the more comely servant girls in conversation, or interest them in a quick fumble in a shadowed recess. Scarab hoped that her evident age would put them off, so she waited in a storeroom nearby until a group of three girls walked by, and joined them.

  The guards saw the group approach and grinned, standing up straighter. The girls stopped to chat, glancing coquettishly at the muscled soldiers, but Scarab pushed by, the bundle of linen held high. One of the guards looked at her searchingly for a moment before turning his attention back to the girls. Scarab kept going, passing into the courtyard. She glanced back to make sure the guards were not interested and was horrified to see Suteph looking in her direction, his brow furrowed. She turned away and hurried around a corner, before dropping the bundle and taking to her heels.

  Scarab found her three companions at the appointed place, but they failed to recognise her at first, threatening to draw attention by their exclamations of wonder.

  "Right, straight to the docks," she said. "I think Suteph might have seen me, so the sooner we are gone the better."

  The four of them hurried through the narrow streets of the river quarter, slowing to a walk whenever a soldier or one of the Medjay police appeared. Nobody stopped them, or even paid much attention, and they arrived at the docks slightly out of breath but undiscovered.

  "We need to hire a boat. Who has some copper?"

  Khu shook his head, but Terrik produced a plain copper bracelet, and Salom a pin with an ibis head.

  "That's all? That won't hire us a boat." Scarab scowled. "I should have remembered."

  "It did not occur to any of us, Scarab," Khu said. "I suppose we will have to go to one of the gates."

  "We could try a fisherman," Salom suggested. "This might be enough to get one to take us to the far bank."

  "Try," Scarab directed. "See what you can find."

  Terrik and Salom went looking, asking anyone with a small boat, but nobody would accept that low a price. To take them across, a man would have to take time off from fishing or his work and the copper bracelet and brooch were poor recompense. At last they found an old man with a leaking boat who agreed to ferry them across the river, but not until he had had his dinner.

  They tried to hurry him, but had nothing extra to offer as an incentive. The old man disappeared into an alley and Scarab and her companions waited by the boat, trying not to look out of place.

  "We could just take the boat," Terrik said.

  "That would be stealing," Khu objected. "This boat is probably the old man's only livelihood."

  "We are not stealing anything," Scarab said firmly. "But I don't like just standing around when everyone else is so busy. We'll attract attention."

  "Why don't I stay here alone?" Salom said. "One man loitering won't be noticed. The rest of you wander off and come back at intervals. Hopefully, the old man will not be long."

  They never got to test the worth of the suggestion as at that moment, a troop of soldiers poured out of the alleyways and surrounded them, spears poised. An officer pushed to the front and bowed formally to Scarab.

  "Lady Khepra, please follow me. I have instructions to return you to the palace."

  Return to Contents

  * * *

  Chapter Three

  A soldier brought the news to Lord Horemheb as he took wine with his friend and subordinate, Paramessu. They were in one of the offices attached to the royal suites in the palace of Ineb Hedj, and pored over documents and maps that littered a great table. On a side table sat the remains of a meal and an almost empty jug of watered wine. The cups each man held left pale red rings on the papers every time they put them down, for the discussion was at times animated and hands were waved around animatedly, whether or not they help a cup.

  "The kingdoms are in remarkably good shape," Horemheb said. "Ay was a power hungry adventurer but he was an able administrator. The treasury was full when he ascended the throne and despite his temple building, he actually spent very little of the gold."

  "What about you, sir?" Paramessu asked. "What is going to typify your reign?"

  Horemheb laughed. "Where do I start? We have to crush the Hittite threat, that bastard Menkure is raising his head again in the south, and there is general unrest throughout the Two Kingdoms. Building a few more temples is not going to help."

  "Building temples is useful though. It keeps the attention of the gods focused on Kemet, and it provides employment for thousands. Idle hands get up to mischief."

  "Agreed, but..." A knock on the door interrupted Horemheb. He controlled his annoyance and called out for the person to enter. A soldier came in and saluted.

  "Beggin' your pardon, Gen'ral," the soldier said. "Troop Leader Arentef, 'e says to tell you 'e 'as the Lady Khepra back in't palace."

  "Unharmed?"

  "Yes sir." The man hesitated a moment. "Leastwise, she was shaved an' was wearing a servant's kilt, but not hurt, like, sir."

  "Where was she?"

  "Down by't docks, Gen'ral. Lookin' for a boat."

  "Alright soldier, dismissed."

  The soldier saluted again and left the room, closing the door behind him.

  "Damn woman," Horemheb said. "If she was not so vital to my plans, I'd get rid of her here and now."

  "I hope you will exercise forbearance, sir," Paramessu pleaded. "Scarab is the mother of my son Seti. I would not like to be complicit in his mother's death."

  "I thought he was ignorant of her relationship?"

  "He is, but he'll find out sooner or later."

  "Well, I need her for now, so she's safe enough."

  "Have you told her she's safe, sir. It might dissuade her from trying to escape."

  "I doubt she'd believe me. Besides, define 'safe'. I need her to be my passage into the royal family. That means marriage and I'll have to lie with her to make it official. I have no problem with that but..." Horemheb smiled wryly. "She's a woman and they think differently about these things. If she objects to forced marriage she will try and escape, no matter how physically 'safe' she is here."

  "Perhaps I could have a word with her, sir."

  Horemheb looked sharply at his friend. "And say what exactly?"

  "Reassure her that marriage aside; you bear her no ill will. Knowing her, she will be worried about her friends too, so if I can tell her they will not be harmed either..."

  "Alright, but it seems to me it would be more sensible to hold her friends hostage against her good behaviour."

  "She's obstinate, sir, and dangerous. You really don't want to antagonise her unnecessarily."

  Horemheb sighed. "Go ahead. Say what you need to, to get her...well, cooperation is a bit much to hope for, but maybe acquiescence?"

  "I'll do it today."

  "Do you still have feelings for her, Paramessu?"

  "Gods, no."

  "Just asking. She is the mother of your son, after all."

  Paramessu shook his head. "I'm happily married now. What happened between us was a long time ago and she deserted me and Seti."

  "You know why I ask, don't you?"

  "Yes, sir. You want to know how I feel about you marrying her."

  "And?"

  A shrug. "It does not matter to me, sir. I know why you have to and I am your man, Lord Horemheb--in everything."

  Horemheb regarded his friend in silence, looking for the slightest indication of disloyalty. If he had found it, he would have been forced to kill his friend. He would have regretted it, but still done it. A smooth transition of power was essential.

  Paramessu looked back at his General calmly.
"Scarab is the sole surviving member of Nebmaetre Amenhotep's family. You must marry into that bloodline to legitimise your claim on the Double Throne."

  "As long as you realise that is the only reason I do it, Paramessu."

  "I do, sir."

  Horemheb grinned. "I'd like to have seen her dressed as a servant down by the docks. Shaved head and kilt, but I'll wager she was not able to shed her air of command."

  "She is resourceful, and that is why she is dangerous. Please do not underestimate her, sir."

  "Is she too dangerous to keep alive?"

  Paramessu looked away. "I don't know."

  "Come, old friend, be honest with me. Put aside your feelings for her and tell me truly. Advise me as if you were my Tjaty. Should I kill her once she has outlived her usefulness?"

  "She will always be a danger to you. Remember that damn fool Aanen anointed her king when Smenkhkare died? She says she does not wish to rule but what if she disagrees with something you do in the future. That could change, and she will always attract followers. Then there is her position as a member of the old royal family. Anyone marrying her has a claim to the throne..."

  "As I do myself."

  "Yes sir, as you do. Let her go and anything could happen. You need to marry her, but what then? When your claim is secure and you are anointed and the people and nobles accept you, what then? You could lock her away in the women's quarters, but as long as she lived she would be the focus of any plot to oust you." Paramessu sighed. "In all honesty, you would be better off killing her when you are secure."

  "That was in my mind too," Horemheb said. "There is the added danger of having a knife slipped between my ribs while I slept. I will bed her openly, and then put her away."

  "Bed her if you must, sir, but I would advise keeping her openly beside you for a while. The population loves her and if she sat beside you in the Hall of Judgments a few times, it would settle the minds of the people. After a little while--six months or a year--she could disappear from view."

  "Your advice makes sense, Tjaty Paramessu."

  The younger man viewed his General askance. "You mean to make me Tjaty?"