by Overton, Max
The litter arrived back at the palace and the weary slaves gratefully lowered their burden to the ground. Scarab stepped down and at once, her maid-servants rushed to minister to her, adding a little powder, rouging her lips, combing stray hairs from her wig and straightening her dress. They offered her a cooling citron drink and wafted her with ostrich feather fans. An overdress, a long flowing cloak that clasped at the neck, was arranged over her white linen dress. The cloak was heavy, weighed down by countless gold and ivory beads. She gleamed and glinted as she moved and other jewellery was added to her burden--rings and bracelets and golden armbands.
The gates were thrown open and many people streamed into the forecourt, people motivated by curiosity and pity, as much as by happiness for the bride. Scarab bore herself stoically, telling herself that her marriage was necessary for the stability of the Kingdoms, however much she might detest the idea. People exclaimed at the richness of her dress as she ascended the palace steps, turning to face the crowd within the shadow of its entrance.
A cheer arose from the soldiers, picked up half-heartedly by the citizens crowding the courtyard, as Lord Horemheb emerged from the shadowed depths of the palace. The priests of Amun and Min stood aloof from the celebrations. They were here to witness the union and give the blessings of their respective gods, but there would be no formal ceremony, no declaration of vows. Strictly, this showing to the populace was not necessary as Lord Horemheb was, despite his title, a commoner. When a commoner took a wife, she moved into his house and they set up married life together. Little more was done when nobles married, though a wealthy one might host a feast and show off the beauty or wealth of his new wife. It was only the royal family that had the public showing, and Horemheb was determined that he would be regarded as royal right from the outset. He claimed the position beforehand, and marriage only confirmed it, in his eyes. Now he was here on the palace steps, alongside Lady Beketaten, and there was little to be done except to make the announcement.
"I, Horemheb, son of Metemenpet, do take as my wife, Lady Beketaten, daughter of Nebmaetre Amenhotep, on this day. Let the gods and the people bear witness." He stepped back and looked expectantly at Scarab. When she hesitated, he smiled and leaned toward her. "Do it, or your friend Khu will not live until noon."
Scarab turned her head and fixed Horemheb with a gaze from her living eye. "If you ever harm Khu, I will bring the wrath of the Gods down on your head." She moved forward, to the top step and lifted her voice clearly, "I, Scarab, known to you formerly as Lady Beketaten, daughter of Nebmaetre Amenhotep, take Horemheb as my husband for as long as the gods decree."
Khu watched from the edge of the throng with tears in his eyes and turned away, losing himself in the masses of people filling the streets.
Horemheb stood beside her, one arm around her waist as the crowd erupted into cheers and song. He leaned close. "You are still playing your little games, Scarab, but I have what I want now. You are my wife and I am officially part of Nebmaetre's family. Tonight we consummate the marriage and tomorrow I am crowned king. I have everything I want."
"The marriage night was never part of our agreement," Scarab said, revulsion creeping into her voice. "This is solely a marriage of form, to give you title to the throne. The...other...is not needed."
"I think it is. There must be no doubt that I am king, so you will submit with good grace and give evidence of it the morning after, or I will make your life a torment."
"You think I care..."
"And those close to you, of course."
Scarab stared at him. "Ay was ever my enemy, but I thought you an upright and decent man, Horemheb. How wrong I was."
Horemheb shrugged and waved to the crowd. "Hate me if you must, but do your duty--for Kemet if not for me. Wave to the crowd. Show them you are a joyous bride."
Scarab played her part with a heavy heart, and presently they went inside. Festivities continued throughout the city, on into the afternoon and evening. Horemheb occupied himself with business and Scarab found herself alone in her suite with her chattering maidservants for company. After a while, unable to stand their bright comments and innuendo, she snapped at them and ordered them away. She stripped off her fine robes and donned something more comfortable before sitting near a window and staring out at the familiar sights of the old city.
There is the corner of the Amun temple and the palace garden Smenkhkare and I would pass through to reach it. I wonder if Pa-Siamun the priest is still there. Or Teti and Ruia the bakers...Rekhmire the embalmer should still be here, but what of Ipuwer his father? Or even Mahuhy the pimp. A richly coloured painting of ordinary lives...I wanted adventure and excitement and now I have it, but sometimes I think I would rather be a simple peasant .
Nightfall. The cooking fires in the city lit the sky with an orange glow and the aroma of fatted beef filled the air. Sounds of merriment wafted to Scarab on the light breezes from the river and faintly heard as a constant accompaniment, came the croaking of frogs in the reed beds. Scarab's young servants returned, driven to their duties by the overseer. They bathed her and scented her and dressed her in fine filmy robes before adding delicate traceries of makeup and a freshly-combed wig.
The overseer of the royal bedchamber came to collect her and together with her maidservants, she trod the empty corridors to the royal suite. Guards were present, but all older men, none of the young ones who might cast inappropriate glances at the new bride of the man who would become king the next day. Scarab entered the bedchamber and two of her servants entered with her. Horemheb was not present. One young girl turned down the bed linen, sprinkling the sheets with perfume while the other went to help her mistress disrobe.
"I am quite capable of doing that for myself," Scarab said. "Leave me now. Go," she added when they hesitated. When she was alone, she examined the royal bedchamber. As well as guards on the doors there were more on the balcony that led to the gardens, and below the drape-covered window.
No way out then. Not that I have that luxury with Khu in his power .
There was wine on a side table and Scarab sniffed at the pitcher, noting it was the rich, dark vintage from Ay's northern estates. She briefly considered getting drunk as a way of surviving the ordeal ahead, but decided against it, as she would lose control of her mind and body. Nothing for it then . She went and sat by the balcony, looking out at the darkened garden, remembering better days. An hour passed.
The door opened and Horemheb entered. He stretched and yawned, rubbing his eyes. He nodded to the woman sitting by the balcony and crossing to the side table, poured himself a cup of wine.
"Some wine for you, Lady Khepra?"
"Just call me Scarab. No lady would be doing this. And no wine, thank you."
"As you will, but you are too modest, Scarab. A lady would do this but for power, not for the good of Kemet." Horemheb drank. "Good wine. Ay's vintages always were the best."
"I have already married you in the sight of priests, nobles, and the people, Horemheb. You have what you need. There is no reason for anything else to happen."
"Ah, but what about what I want, rather than need?"
Scarab looked at him incredulously. "You desire me? Why? I know what I am and there must be a hundred beautiful, nubile girls in this palace with whom you could slake your lust."
"Agreed, you are past your prime, scarred and battered...but I am curious. You loved Paramessu and you still hold him in the palm of your hand. That farm boy of yours too. I would like to know what drives them."
"I do not love you, Horemheb, nor will I ever. You can never know what they feel."
"Maybe not, but I mean to see for myself."
"You cannot possibly find love, or even affection, in an act of rape."
"Rape? You are my wife. Would you deny your husband on his wedding night?"
"Do I have no rights? I do not choose this."
Horemheb put down the wine cup. "Must I force you?"
"You already know my feelings on this matter,
so there is little to be gained by opposing you."
"Then come here and do your duty." Horemheb unfastened his kilt and threw it aside.
A little time passed and Horemheb lay panting in the bed. "You were right," he said. "I do not know what your lovers see in you."
Scarab swung her legs over the side of the bed and went to her discarded robe on the floor.
"Where are you going? I did not give you leave."
Scarab turned and faced her husband, making no move to cover her body. Instead, she opened her right eye, knowing it would discomfort him. "I assumed you would like me to go now that you have had what you wanted."
Horemheb patted the sheets. "Come back to bed...and close that cursed eye of yours."
"You are not worried I will kill you as you sleep?"
"I am safe enough while I have Khu in my power."
Scarab sighed and returned to the bed, covering herself with a sheet. She turned her back on Horemheb and waited for him to fall asleep before consigning herself to welcome oblivion.
When she awoke again, the dawn light was streaming into the room and Horemheb had gone. Scarab ordered one of the guards to send for her women and accompanied them back to her suite where she ordered soap and water, bathing copiously to remove every trace of the previous night. Then she dressed simply in plain, clean linen and attended to her appearance before breaking her fast. She told her servants to find the richest robes for the coronation ceremony. They hurried off to do her bidding and returned with apologies, saying the Overseer of Garments declared she was not attending.
"Nonsense," Scarab said. "The man is deluded. Ask Lord Horemheb."
"My lady, we dare not. Besides, he is in the Temple of Amun."
"Then someone else--someone else close to him."
Her servants were gone somewhat longer, but when they returned, Paramessu was with them.
"You are not going," Paramessu said.
"What do you mean? If I am to play my part as that man's wife, I must be there."
Paramessu dismissed the maidservants, and when the door closed behind them said, "He will not make you queen, or even acknowledge you as wife any longer."
Scarab stared at her former lover. "What has he told you? Am I to be killed?"
"Remember Ankhesenamun's marriage to Ay? Think of yours in a similar way."
"How long do I have?"
"Perhaps a year. I would advise you to think about escape."
"If I could have, I would have done so before last night." The bitterness in her voice made Paramessu wince.
"Well, think on it," he said.
"Will you help me?"
"No."
"Not even for our son's sake? Would you have Seti learn you had allowed his mother to die unaided?"
"We have been over this before, Scarab. Do not think of him as your son any longer. He will make his way in the world without your help or hindrance. As for helping you...well, it would grieve me were you to die, but I will not help you against Horemheb. He will be king today and I will be his Tjaty. Together we will stabilise and strengthen our beloved country. I will not jeopardise that."
When Paramessu left, Scarab sat alone in her rooms, wanting no company. She looked out over old Waset, hearing the roars of acclamation that issued from the Temple of Amun as the double crown was settled on Horemheb's head. The future seemed bleak and Scarab prayed to her nine gods of Iunu.
Everything happens for a reason, but let me serve you outside of this prison. Anything. I do not ask that you return the golden scarab to me because it is obvious I lost it through pride, but let me serve you in some other way, even as a servant in your temples .
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Chapter Twenty-One
"I am king. At last!" Horemheb punched the air and grinned broadly.
All morning, he had endured the long rituals in the Great Temple of Amun, has purified himself in the Lake of Cleansing and faced the god-priests--falcon-headed Heru, ram-headed Amun, Ibis-headed Djehuti; Asar, with skin painted green with powdered sehmet and wearing the conical crown of Lower Kemet framed by tall feathered plumes; Geb, clothed in vegetation with a large golden goose sitting on his head; and Ptah, in closefitting garments and skullcap, bearing a staff surmounted by a great golden ankh.
Things had happened to him in the Great Temple, strange and arcane things that he knew he would never talk about for they were secrets between god and man--in the process of which he had become a man-god, semi-divine ruler of Kemet. He had faced Wadjet, the cobra protector of the kings and been reborn. The priests placed the white conical Hedjet crown of Ta Shemau on his head, praising him as king of the southern Kingdom. They replaced it with red Deshret crown of Ta Mehu, this time praising him as king of the northern Kingdom. Then came the Pasekhemty or Double Crown, the Atef Crown, the informal Seshed headband, and finally the blue leather war bonnet or Khepresh.
Horemheb was garbed in virgin linen and sandals bound on his feet that had the symbols of the nine traditional enemies engraved on their soles. He was led into the inner sanctum of the Great Temple where Amun himself, ram-headed and bearing the solar disc on his head, greeted him and confirmed him as king in Amun's Holy name.
A wordless roar arose from the onlookers when Horemheb was led outside and seated on a low throne. Five priests approached him in turn and uttered the names bestowed upon the new king.
"Let the aspect of Heru empower you," said the first priest. "Your name shall be Heru: Mighty Bull, Ready in Plans."
"Nekhabet and Wadjet name you also," the second priest intoned. "Your name is Nebty: He of the Two Ladies, Great in Marvels in Apet."
"The gods recognise you as their son on earth," said the third. "Heru Nebu: Satisfied with Truth, Creator of the Two Lands."
"Nesut-byt--King of the South and of the North," cried the fourth priest. "Lord of the Two Lands, Djeserkheperure Setepenre, Holy are the Manifestations of Re, Chosen of Re."
"Sa-Re--Son of Re, Lord of Diadems." The fifth priest said. "Horemheb Meryamun, Heru is in Jubilation, Beloved of Amun."
The assembled multitudes roared their approval, and the priests performed the coronation ceremonies once more, this time for all to see. Then, clad in kilt, sandals and blue war bonnet, King Horemheb raced around the outer walls of the Great Temple, demonstrating his strength and fitness to rule. He held the Heka or crook, and the Nekhekh or flail; symbols of royal authority. Having completed his circuit of the temple, and grasping his full authority in both hands, Horemheb Meryamun set off to tour the city in an electrum-plated chariot driven by the most senior charioteer. Crowds lined the streets, cheering and waving, praising the new king and offering up prayers that stability had at last come to the land of Kemet.
Horemheb returned to the palace in the early afternoon, elated, and fell on a light repast set out for him by his servants. Immediately afterward, he called in a succession of his ministers and overseers, requiring of them a detailed accounting of their time in office and the current state of their departments. A few men he dismissed on the spot, others he sent away with instructions to report back in a few days. After a short rest at dusk, he called for General Paramessu.
Paramessu entered the room and immediately went down on his knees, arms outstretched in supplication. "Mighty king, Lord of the Two Lands. May you live for a million years."
Horemheb laughed. "Get up, Paramessu, there is no need for that." The king waited until his general had risen to his feet. "Henceforth, you have my permission to remain standing in my presence."
"Thank you, Mighty One," Paramessu said with a straight face. Then he grinned and strode forward to embrace Horemheb. "At last. Now you can do all you set out to do."
"We will do it together, old friend. I will need a man with a strong right arm and you are that man. You are now officially Tjaty of both kingdoms, with freedom to act on all matters in my absence."
"Thank you, my lord."
"There is no need for titles when we are alo
ne."
"Yes...sir. What do you plan to do first?"
"Gods, I hardly know where to start. I have had ministers and overseers in here all afternoon and I have only scraped the surface of the administration. I thought Ay was fairly competent in these matters, but he seems to have appointed cronies who have handled their duties badly. I dismissed the obvious fools and frauds, and no doubt when I get full reports, some more dismissals will follow. One afternoon and I am ready to beat my breast with frustration."
"That is why you have a Tjaty and a Council of Ministers. Let me attend to these matters. I will sort through the present incumbents and sift them on their ability. The most important ones are Overseer of the Seal or Treasurer, the Overseer of Buildings and Temples, and the Royal Chamberlains. Do you have any doubts about any of them?"
"Treasurer Maya has been feeding me information for years and has got rich as a result. Make sure you get a full accounting but leave him in charge. I do not know the others."
"Hrihor is Overseer of Buildings and Temples and has been for the last ten years. I have heard nothing bad about him. Meres is Chamberlain in Ineb Hedj, Panas in Waset--again, nothing of concern."
"Well, I will leave it in your hands. Appoint who you will, and dismiss anyone you do not like. I want efficiency and competence in my ministers. The gods know we need it after the rulership we have had the last twenty years or so."
"Yes, it is a pity Kemet could not have gone straight from Nebmaetre to you, without bothering about the weak kings in-between."
Horemheb looked at Paramessu strangely. "What makes you say that?"
