An Evil Spirit Out of the West (Ancient Egyptian Mysteries) (39 page)
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Authors: Paul Doherty
BOOK: An Evil Spirit Out of the West (Ancient Egyptian Mysteries)
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I got to my feet, wiping the sweat from my neck.
‘And me, Snefru?’ I glared down at him. ‘You gave me your cloak – the sign for the assassins hired by Amun – me, your friend – your master.’
‘I had no choice,’ he mumbled. ‘The shaven heads wanted you out of the way, as well as to frighten the Grotesque. They knew of your secret journeys to Thebes, they told me to lend you one of my cloaks …’ He began to sob.
‘Does he know more, my lord?’ Djarka asked.
‘No,’ I replied. ‘He would only be told the time and place. Everything else was left to others.’
I walked to where Karnak sprawled obediently under a tree quietly watching what was happening. He got to his feet so I crouched down and stroked his muzzle.
‘Kill him, Djarka!’ I shouted.
My servant sang a few lines of a hymn I couldn’t understand. When he had finished, Snefru gargled and choked as his throat was slashed.
‘Get rid of the corpse.’ I got to my feet gesturing at Karnak to follow. ‘Oh, and Djarka,’ I peered through the darkness, ‘tell the others in Snefru’s company that their leader has been sent on an important errand, and that he will be away for at least a month.’
‘And?’ Djarka asked, coming forward, resheathing his dagger.
‘They can’t be trusted,’ I replied heavily. ‘Whatever happens, they too must die.’
The following afternoon, as the heat of the day faded, I met Maya at my request in a House of Delights managed by one of Sobeck’s Lieutenants. It was an exquisite place with a tinkling fountain in a white stone courtyard. Inside was a brilliantly painted hall of columns with beautiful eyecatching scenes on the wall depicting young men in a number of poses. I met Maya in one of the love chambers which led off from this hall. It had a cool tiled floor, its walls were painted a soothing green, and the ceiling was a dark blue decorated with silver stars and a golden moon. In the centre stood a great bed of state, its feet carved in the shape of lions’ heads.
‘Why, Mahu!’ Maya gazed admiringly around. ‘I didn’t think we shared such tastes.’
‘We don’t,’ I replied, gesturing at a corner where cushions were piled around a table. ‘But this is as good a place as any to talk. I think it’s best if you relaxed.’
We took our seats, to be served mouthwatering dishes of goose and quail, pots of fish grilled over charcoal fires, wine from the best vineyards. Pretty boys, with sidelocks falling down their faces, dressed in nothing but the scantiest of loincloths, pearl drops in their earlobes with matching necklaces and bangles, tended to our every wish. Maya enjoyed himself. He had grown plumper and even more astute. He ate and drank well, pawed the boys, then leaned back, patting his stomach, staring up at the ceiling.
‘If you want to know something, Mahu, the answer is I don’t know. And now I’d like to sample this House’s other delicacies but I’d prefer to do it by myself, or do you like watching?’
‘Do you know who owns this house?’ I asked.
Maya loosened the band round his waist, splaying his fingers, admiring the paint on his nails.
‘No, you tell me.’
‘Kheferu. Have you ever heard of him?’
‘Yes, he’s some thief from the Underworld, a pimp, a bully boy.’ Maya gestured. ‘Who cares?’
‘Sobeck,’ I replied.
Maya dropped his hand and stared openmouthed. ‘Kheferu?’ he replied.
‘Kheferu is Sobeck,’ I whispered. ‘He came back, Maya, and carved out his own fortune, his own career.’
‘Is he here?’ Maya would have sprung to his feet but I pressed his plump shoulder back.
‘I can arrange for Sobeck to meet you but he’s changed.’
‘In my heart, never.’
‘He’s not what you think, Maya.’
‘I don’t give a fig what you say, Mahu.’
‘Don’t you?’
‘You are lying.’ Maya pulled away. ‘This is a story you have made up to make me talk.’
‘Is it? It’s not just a question of talking, Maya. You work at the House of Secrets. You, like Sobeck, like myself, know what’s happening in Thebes. One day a bloody confrontation will take place between my master and the priests of Amun. You will have to decide which party you support.’
‘The House of Secrets,’ Maya gabbled, ‘belongs to no party.’
‘Nonsense!’ I replied. ‘And you know it. The time of blood is upon us, Maya. Sobeck is with me. I am with the Prince, the legitimate Lord of the Two Lands.’
‘Only Co-regent,’ Maya snapped.
‘Nonsense,’ I repeated. ‘The Magnificent One might as well be in the Far West. He spends his days in a drunken, drugged frenzy, obsessed with his eldest daughter.’
Maya blinked kohl-ringed eyes.
‘Moreover,’ I persisted, ‘you have already chosen. You are having dinner with me.’
‘I can explain that.’
‘Can you?’ I replied. ‘You are a child of the Kap, Maya. If the priests of Amun win, do you think they’ll allow any of us to survive?’
‘Who are they?’
‘That’s what I want to find out. Now, let me tell you a story.’
I told him about meeting Sobeck, the Valley of the Shadows, the gold, the Libyan war-party and Snefru’s confession. Maya’s face grew ashen; he was gulping at his wine, hands shaking. When I had finished, he sat staring moodily at the state bed.
‘I can’t tell you anything.’
‘When this is all over,’ I edged closer, whispering in his ear, ‘friends and allies will be promoted, enemies punished.’
Maya was hooked. I knew he was but he had to make the decision himself.
‘Such things are kept secret.’ He looked out of the corner of his eye at me. ‘You know that, Mahu.’
‘The gold,’ I asked. ‘Where did it come from?’
‘Oh, that’s easy enough,’ he replied. ‘The House of Silver at the Temple of Amun. They have their own Mint.’
‘And how would it be transported to the Libyans?’
Maya’s fat face creased into a smile. ‘Again, easy enough. A year ago the Temple of Amun sent an important delegation to the Libyans to demonstrate the favour of their god and advance their own interests.’
‘Of course,’ I agreed. ‘And the shaven heads of Amun are sacred, their pack donkeys can carry whatever they want. No guards would dream of searching their chests or panniers – but how about the barges?’
Maya clicked his tongue. ‘That’s what you want to know, is it? You want me to search amongst the files and records. It’s quite customary for orders to be issued for barges to be collected.’
‘That’s right, and I want to know who ordered those barges.’
‘You know that already,’ Maya countered.
‘Yes, but I want proof. Who gave the order?’ I gestured at the wine jug. ‘I am going to sit here and finish that while you go and find out. I’ll wait for your return.’
Maya made to protest.
‘I’ll wait for your return!’ I snapped.
He left a short while later. I lay down on the cushions and slept for a while. I was woken by a loud knocking; one of the servant boys came in to announce that my friend had returned. Maya came bustling through the door. He had changed his robes and looked more alert. He smacked the boy’s bottom, closed the door behind him, then leaned against it.
‘May the gods help us, Mahu, but we are in this together.’
‘The barges?’ I persisted.
‘God’s Father Hotep,’ Maya replied. ‘He ordered the barges to be assembled on different quaysides and transported to a point just above the First Cataract.’
‘And the reason?’
‘Army manoeuvres.’
‘Of course, there are always army manoeuvres and the order would soon be forgotten.’
Maya nodded. I got to my feet.
‘So it’s Shishnak and Hotep. Possibly that fat fool Rahimere, Mayor of Thebes.’ I stretched out my hand. Maya grasped it and suddenly brought his other hand up, the point of the dagger only inches from my face.
‘No, don’t be troubled.’ He moved the dagger away and wiped the sweat from his brow. ‘Mahu, if you’ve lied, I’ll kill you!’
‘If I have lied,’ I replied, ‘you won’t have to. If we lose this, we’ll lose everything. There’s something else, Maya. You were there in the Temple of Amun when Tuthmosis died. You must suspect something was wrong. I could tell that.’
‘I learned something but I kept it to myself.’ He spoke quickly, hoarsely. ‘My spy is a lector priest who supervises the temple’s laundry. On the night Tuthmosis died he was told to burn some expensive linen sheets. He never asked why but inspected them. They were covered in a sort of bloody vomit.’ He put the knife away. ‘You know what that means, Mahu?’
I recalled the dead Prince’s chamber.
‘The sheets were unmarked,’ I whispered. ‘And the same was true of Akhenaten’s. Tuthmosis didn’t die in his own chamber.’ My heart skipped a beat. ‘I know what happened, Maya. Tuthmosis went to his brother’s chamber to await him. Whilst there he must have drunk poisoned wine intended for Akhenaten. The alarm was raised. They moved Tuthmosis back to his own room, cleaned Akhenaten’s, replacing the sheet which had been stained. The priests of Amun made a hideous mistake. They poisoned the wrong brother.’
Maya, ashen-faced, moaned quietly under his breath.
‘What will you do, Mahu?’
‘I have no choice,’ I replied. ‘But I tell you this, Maya. Report to the House of Secrets today and tomorrow but, on the third day, keep well away. Hide yourself against the coming storm.’
Chapter 15
‘May you sit on your throne of bronze!
Your forepart being that of a lion,
And your hindpart being that of a falcon.
May you devour the haunch from the
Slaughter-block of Osiris
And entrails from the slaughter-block of Seth.’
I sat back on my heels and stared at Akhenaten. He was enthroned in the centre of the garden, Nefertiti on his right, Ay on his left. Nakhtimin’s guards kept all approaches secure. Akhenaten’s twin daughters played at his feet, their younger sisters were sleeping in the nursery. The girls looked like little worms, heads shaven, bodies naked except for jewelled anklets. They sat facing each other, hands clapping as they cooed and cried.
‘O King,’ I intoned, continuing the formal protocol. ‘Mighty in waking, great in sleeping, for whom sweetness is sweet. Rouse yourself, O King.’
I had asked for this formal audience and invoked the usual liturgical rite by intoning a hymn to the power of the King. Only by doing this did I convey the seriousness of the situation and the dangers which confronted us. I wouldn’t dare raise such matters in the Royal Circle where the advice of friends and allies would be listened to most carefully by sworn enemies and foes.
Akhenaten sat rigid, staring at me; for a moment, fear flared in his eyes. Nefertiti, her hair hanging undressed down to her shoulders, had also shooed away her maids. They had been squatting around her discussing the different perfumes and creams: how terebinth gum, mixed with moringa oil and nutmeg, removed wrinkles, whilst the juice of lotus, pink lily, papyrus and isis, with a dash of myrrh and frankincense, provided the most fragrant perfume. They had been laughing at how a concentration of cow’s blood, gazelle horn and putrefying ass’s liver might halt greying. Akhenaten and Ay had been standing near a Pool of Purity deep in discussion. My entrance had ended all that.
I had knelt on the cushions, pressed my forehead against the ground as Akhenaten returned to his thronelike chair. Nefertiti and Ay had joined him whilst the servants were dismissed. Now all was quiet, the silence broken only by the chatter of the children. Ay sat, agitated, plucking at his lower lip, head slightly turned as if fearful of what I was going to say. I told them all everything, though Sobeck’s name was never mentioned. I talked directly and quickly. Nefertiti hid her mouth behind her hand: Ay’s fingers went to his face. Akhenaten went ashen, eyes blazing with fury. Furrows appeared round his eyes and mouth, a nest of wrinkles, and a vein high in his head bulged and pulsed. When I had finished, he breathed out noisily.
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