Egypt (12 page)

‘I know, Father,' she replied. ‘I'm just frightened something bad will happen to you. I would want to die, too, if it did.'

To disguise my sudden distress at her words, I turned quickly back to the other girls, who had easily abandoned their grief as they followed my conversation with Sekhmet.

‘Now, the other news is good news. Nakht has invited you all to live in his mansion during the whole time of my journey. How does that sound?'

While the four of them jumped up and down in enthusiastic joy, and ran around the kitchen in their delight at this prospect of luxurious accommodation, I went outside, and found Tanefert sitting under the fig tree in the dark. I plucked a ripe fruit from the tree, and offered it to her; she ignored me. We sat in silence for a little. I rolled the useless treat in my hand.

‘I'm sorry,' was all I could find to say.

She scoffed: ‘
Sorry
is easy. It's just a word. You've already made your mind up. So there's no point in talking more,' she said, and rose to walk away from me.

I reached out and gripped her hand. She struggled to free herself, but I would not let her go.

‘You're hurting me,' she said.

‘Don't just–walk away.
Talk to me
,' I said. I kissed her hand, hoping my feelings would show themselves in this way, when words failed me.

‘I'm so frightened,' she said, after a while. ‘Some days it feels as if the world is falling apart. And I don't know how to hold it all together for us.'

‘Everything will be fine,' I answered, uselessly.

‘What will I tell the children if you never return? What will I tell myself?'

‘I will return, I promise you that,' I said. ‘And then everything will change. Everything will get better again.'

‘I know you would only do this if you thought you were doing the best for us all. But sometimes you get obsessed with an idea, and you forget about us. I would much rather have a living husband with no job and no gold than a dead one. I don't care how much Nakht has offered, your life simply isn't worth the risk. And I know it must be dangerous, because why else would you have to go?'

‘I have no choice,' I replied. It felt like the most honest thing I had said.

‘You always have a choice,' she insisted. ‘
Always
. And you shouldn't make decisions like this, not now, not when you're grieving. I know you, my husband. You are being driven by rage and guilt. But Khety's death was not your fault.'

‘Yes it was.'

She looked at me unflinchingly. ‘And so you put your rage and your revenge before your family?'

She had spoken the truth. I felt the cold blade of guilt slip into my heart. I wanted to tell her I had changed my mind. But something else would not let me. I forced myself to keep going.

‘I promise you I will return within three months. And then everything will be well.'

She was silent for a long moment.

‘When must you go?' she asked, eventually, in a strange voice.

‘Tomorrow morning,' I replied.

‘Tomorrow?'

She was incredulous.

‘We are your
family
. And you have chosen against us. I do not know how I will forgive you.'

And she walked away into the house, leaving me in the dark. I threw the fig into the shadows.

This northern boundary is as far as that inverted water which goes downstream in going upstream…

Tombos stele of Tutmosis I

Ra rose above the dark horizon, and the Great River instantly caught the glory of the first light on its vast, shadowy surface, and glittered into splendid life.

I stood on the ship's deck and gazed out at Thebes, waking to another day of heat and work. I looked at the crowded docks; at the high temple walls, and the long, fluttering flags on their poles; at the districts of rich villas; and across the Great River at the Malkata Palace itself, where the Queen would be awake, and perhaps praying to Amun, God of Thebes, the Hidden One, for the success of our venture. I would not see my city again for many months. If we failed, then perhaps I would never return. Strangely, I found I no longer had strong feelings about that turn of events, or rather, I felt numb at the possibility of my own death. I thought of our hieroglyph for the word ‘expedition': a kneeling man holding a bow, followed by the sign for a boat. I felt like that man, only my weapon was a dagger. I touched its handle; I would keep it tied across my chest at all times, in readiness.

I looked down the elegant curve of the wooden gunwales that ran the long length of the ship. The Eye of Horus was painted boldly on either side of the prow, offering the protection of the God of the Sky, together with falcons on pedestals. Stylized plants painted in interlocking patterns ran entwined along the length of the hull, together with long, bold lines in red and blue, to the high stern where the Goddess Maat, Keeper of Justice and Harmony, was depicted kneeling with her wings open beneath the helmsman's platform. The spacious cabin at the centre of the ship was decorated with a chequerboard pattern in black and white. The great timbers of the ship's keel, ribs and crossbeams and decking were strong and clean. It was a good ship, and along with my dagger, it gave me comfort.

Nakht and his manservant Minmose were supervising the delivery and placement within the cabin of his sealed travelling trunks, which I assumed contained the tablets of the secret letters from the Queen to the King of the Hittites, as well as diplomatic gifts of gold, and the necessary finances, documents and permissions for our journey. There was suddenly a clatter of hooves on the quay stones, and from out of the dawn shadows a splendid chariot drew up. Nakht hurried ashore to greet the arrival: a tall, dignified foreigner, in an unusual, dark embroidered cloak of fine wool, accompanied by a small contingent of troops. The party hurried on to the ship, and to the privacy of their cabin, as if anxious not to be seen. I understood that, for this was the Hittite ambassador, Hattusa and his retinue, returning with us to their native land.

The sailors made their last preparations for departure. The blades of the two great steering oars, painted with blue and white lotus flowers, and more
udjat
eyes, were carried from the roof of the cabin, where they were stored when not in use, to the stern, where they were placed into the leather loops, and lashed to the vertical stanchions that would hold them during the voyage north. The central mast towered up out of the cabin; its sails would remain furled for the journey north, as the river's current would do all the work. The sailors checked the complex network of rigging, making sure it was tied neat and close. And then, with a cry of command from the captain, all those not travelling hurried ashore, the rowers on the deck below took up their chant, and we slowly sailed out of the dock, past the hundreds of other ships. We towered over the fishermens' skiffs returning from the night fishing. They parted to make way like schools of little fish. Then the river caught us in its firm, powerful grasp and drew us swiftly north, away from the city, as if it shared our sense of urgency. Although I almost never pray, I found myself whispering a prayer, like a dead man remembering the necessary spells for survival in the darkness of the Otherworld.

I had said my farewells to the children on the previous night. I had wanted to slip away from the house as early as possible, to avoid a dramatic or tearful farewell. Tanefert had maintained her angry distance all through the evening and the night. We lay apart, awake and unable to speak. I turned to look at her face in the shadows, but she kept her eyes firmly closed. I whispered her name, but she simply turned away, and curled into herself.

This morning, at the last moment, after I had said goodbye to Thoth, running my hands over his brown mane and talking to him quietly, and imagining he truly understood my orders to guard my family, I had passed his lead to my wife, and we had stood in silence, knowing we had reached the point of no return. Even then, she refused to allow me to take her in my arms. I kissed her quickly on the head, telling her that she was the love of my life. She glanced at me as if this were a bitter truth. I was desperate for some sign of affection from her; but she was locked in her own grief, and could not give it. For a moment I almost fell to my knees and told her I would not leave, I would not abandon her, and our home. But I steeled myself, and as I turned to the door, I swore I felt my heart tear in two.

I walked away down the dusty street, in the chill dark before dawn. When I turned back, I wanted her to be standing in the gateway to the yard, holding the oil lamp in her outstretched palm, watching me disappear into the gloom. I wanted the children to slip into place next to her, one by one, each holding their own oil lamps like tiny stars in the darkness. I wanted them to put their arms round each other, shivering, and wave and wave. But the door remained closed in shadows. I looked back for the last time, and waved even though there was no one there to receive my gesture, then turned the last corner. And then, despite everything, I admit I felt a strange measure of relief, to be finally on my quest, and to have committed myself single-mindedly to its pursuit, no matter what the cost.

Nakht invited Simut and me to pay our respects to Ambassador Hattusa in the cabin. He wore his greying hair long, and he was clean-shaven, like all Hittites. His face was haughty, and his blue eyes keen as a jackal's. He carried himself with immense dignity.

‘My lord,' I offered, bowing low.

‘Simut is Commander of the Palace Guard. Rahotep is my personal guard. He is trusted by the royal family. The Queen herself commanded his presence on this mission,' said Nakht, by way of introduction.

Hattusa examined me minutely, as if for flaws, then nodded, apparently adequately satisfied.

‘I gather the royal envoy has confided in you the true nature of our quest,' he said quietly, in flawless Egyptian.

‘He has,' replied Simut.

‘And he has made it clear that secrecy is imperative?'

‘Yes, my lord,' said Simut.

Hattusa glanced at me expectantly.

‘Yes, my lord,' I replied.

‘Let me be clear. The safety of the royal envoy is your absolute and only priority. Without him, this mission will fail. He alone can speak for the Queen of Egypt. I expect you to give your life for his, if necessary. Is that clear?'

‘Perfectly, my lord,' I said.

He nodded, dismissing us, and gestured to Nakht.

‘Come, honourable friend, let us retire. We have much to discuss,' he said. Nakht bowed, and we took our cue and left the cool shade of the cabin, followed by Hattusa's two bodyguards, who assumed sentry duty on either side of the entrance.

Simut and I stood at the prow of the ship, looking ahead at the wide, shining expanse of the Great River, and out across the green and yellow glory of the cultivation.

‘These ambassadors are all the same. They have the eyes of Anubis. And they make me feel like a servant. Like a
shabti
in a tomb. “Here I am. I will do it!”' I said, in the formula of the little funeral figures buried with their dead masters.

Simut laughed.

‘You get used to it. It's all part of the way of things. They are creatures of their class, and they have certain expectations,' he said. ‘But it's true, they often seem rather bloodless.'

‘Do you trust him?' I asked.

‘Of course not, he is a Hittite. I would no more trust a scorpion.'

He glanced at the Hittite bodyguards with a confident measure of contempt. They ignored him. Simut's own guards were preoccupied with their preparations a little way further down the deck, in the shade of their open shelter.

‘I suppose this proposal could look like a golden trap to the Hittite King,' I said. ‘I suppose Hattusa must have needed assurances that, once here in Thebes, the Hittite Prince won't simply be sidelined, or assassinated.'

‘Well, he'd be right to be concerned about that. But they must have come to terms, for here we are, at the beginning of our great journey. I must admit, never did I think I would find myself on a boat bound for the capital of our enemies.'