Read The Twelfth Transforming Online

Authors: Pauline Gedge

The Twelfth Transforming (61 page)

BOOK: The Twelfth Transforming
11.05Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“That I
do
understand.” The humility in his voice was faintly mocking. “I will return to my lord and tell him of your intentions.”

“Leave now, tonight.” She stood, and politely he rose also. “Precious time has been wasted by Suppiluliumas’s mistrust. If I do not have a husband within a month, we will all be groveling to Smenkhara, and once he is crowned, only his death would release the throne for another. Meryra will show you to a room where you can sleep for an hour while I dictate another message to your king, and I will send an ambassador with you this time. You are dismissed.”

He inclined his leonine head and turned away, but as if a thought had suddenly struck him, he swung back. “May I have permission to speak once more?” he asked with quick servility. She nodded. “It occurs to me that Egypt’s messengers may not travel as fast as the queen’s spies. Therefore the queen may not know that my lord has repulsed the Egyptian army and has completely occupied Amki. There was no great slaughter but a wondrous scattering. Sleep well, Majesty.”

He slipped out of the circle of weak light, and she knew he had gone only by the sound of the doors closing quietly. Meryra had come in and was waiting for further orders. Nefertiti realized that her head was aching intolerably, and her hands were pressed to both burning cheeks. She forced them away. Egypt defeated. She knew that she was glad, for Horemheb would be weakened, and all Egyptians would be grateful to her for averting the invasion that otherwise would surely follow. But under the relief of her thoughts was a burden of shame and sadness in her heart, wounded pride for her country and a flood of blind anger at her dead husband, who had betrayed them all. Turning her back on her patient steward, she quelled a ridiculous impulse to cry.
Egypt is nothing but a herd of beasts with dumb eyes turned to their rulers for direction
, she reminded herself.
Surely such beasts will put their safety above any intangible love for mere soil and water!
She fought down the pain and was at last able to face Meryra calmly. “Precious time has been wasted,” she said. “Now there must be no mistakes. I need an ambassador, Meryra, someone who loved my husband and is devoted to me, someone who does not look forward to the prospect of being ruled by a pharaoh whose allegiance to the Aten is questionable. Such a man might be persuaded to act for me and keep his counsel if it is put to him that the Khatti worship the sun and a Khatti pharaoh would be better than an Amun man.”

“Your Majesty might offer him some more concrete reward for his endeavors, also,” Meryra replied politely. “The promise of a position as the new pharaoh’s Eyes and Ears perhaps, and a substantial quantity of gold. Hani might be suitable. Since Osiris Akhenaten ceased to make use of the diplomats, many of them have been idle and unpaid. Hani has always been a worrier with ambitions. Such a combination might well suit Your Majesty’s purpose.”

“Remind me to reward you also, Meryra,” she said. “Very well. Hani will do. Make the offer of preferment to him first so as to make his mouth water, then tell him what he must do, then threaten him, but very gently. We do not want to frighten him into running to Ay. If he balks, or appears too eager, have him killed at once. Rouse him and send him with Khattusaziti, and do not let him speak to anyone. Now I will dictate a new scroll to Suppiluliumas. Take the dictation yourself.” Meryra took up palette and pen and sank to the floor by the lamp as Nefertiti began. “Start with his titles as before. Then say, ‘Your chamberlain Kattusaziti reports to me that you thought me dead and that you do not believe that I have no son. Why do you accuse me of having deceived you? He who was my husband is dead, and I have no son. If I had a son, would I indeed write abroad to publish the distress of myself and my country? Be assured that I have written to no other country, but only to you. Everyone believes that you have many sons. Give me one in order that he may be my husband and reign in Egypt!’” She wanted to say more, to pour more than her bitterness and pride onto the papyrus, but she fell silent and, after waiting to seal the scroll, waved Meryra out. The empty room was redolent with the gray despondency of the hour before dawn. With the weariness of an old habit despised but impossible to break, she dragged a chair to the window, although it still showed her only darkness.

25

H
oremheb rose as Ay came into the room, his hand already out in an apologetic greeting, his eyes indicating the chair set for the fanbearer. The antechamber was airless and dark but for the one lamp Horemheb had himself lighted and carried in from his bedchamber. Ay advanced slowly, still drugged with a heavy, restless sleep, trying to gather his wits for whatever this strange request might bring, yet for the present aware only of his laboring breath. He held the commander’s lean fingers briefly before lowering himself into the proffered seat and wiping the sweat from his face. His eyes burned; his mouth felt dry and foul. His mind was full of the nightmare he had been having when his steward had shaken him awake, and the terror of it still quickened his heartbeat. The same dream came to him often these nights, sometimes jerking him awake to reach for Tey’s reassuring body but more often lasting until the first grayness of dawn, leaving him exhausted and frightened.

“There is water if you need it,” Horemheb said quietly, himself taking a chair. “Forgive me for disturbing you in the middle of the night, Fanbearer, but this could not wait, and although you and I have seen little of each other lately, I did not want to act alone on a matter of such gravity.”

Surprised, Ay studied the commander. Horemheb was naked in the heat. His shoulder-length black hair straggled stickily against his brown neck. Without paint, his face was open to Ay’s gaze, still handsome, now tensely alert, making Ay feel old, flabby, and sick.
I shall die before you
, Ay thought.
I knew it but had not really considered it before. I think I have always envied you, my imperious son-in-law
. “Tell me,” he said tersely.

Horemheb handed him a scroll and pushed the lamp toward him. At any other time Ay might have considered the gesture an insult to his failing powers, but tonight he simply unrolled the papyrus and began to read.

Once finished, he did not need to look at it again. Carefully he let it roll up, placed it on the table, and then folded his hands, feeling Horemheb’s steady gaze on him. For a long time he could not move, but finally he had composed himself enough to look up and meet the commander’s eyes. “How did you come by this scroll?” he asked shakily.

“May sent it to me from the fort that guards the desert road into southern Syria,” Horemheb replied, himself immobile as he regarded Ay. “A small company passed through from Egypt, one of our ambassadors and a foreigner who said he was a Canaanite envoy on his way home to Askalon to help arrange a sale of grain to us, but May became suspicious and had the ambassador’s belongings searched while the two travelers were resting.” He pointed at the roll of papyrus on the table. “The original of that was in the man’s pouch. May did not know whether to detain the company, or whether we at court were involved with your daughter’s help in some complex negotiation with the Khatti, so he let them proceed. It is as well for us that May followed his intuition.”

Shocked and sick at heart, Ay dropped his gaze. “This is not a royal woman seeking to fill the emptiness of her bed with a lover,” he ventured. “This is my daughter, a queen of Egypt, engaged secretly in deepest treason with an enemy.” He knew he must not ask Horemheb what should be done, and thus put himself in the position of an underling. The first advantage had been the commander’s, and Ay must not strengthen it. “Nefertiti has always been in love with position and power but lacking the means to retain what she did acquire,” he offered in the steadiest voice he could. “But I cannot believe her capable of perceiving this plot as cold-blooded treason. Surely all she saw was a desperate chance to regain an active role in government.”

“I agree,” Horemheb said. “But I am surprised that she was capable of conceiving such a plan at all, and having taken it, Ay. If May had not had his wits about him, if her ambassador had passed unseen…”

“But he did not,” Ay cut in, still battling the emotion that threatened to disarm him.
My daughter. My own flesh, willing to hand over the whole of Egypt in one moment at a time when the country is in agony. Does she feel any remorse? Did she battle any shame?

“No, he did not,” Horemheb reiterated slowly. “So we must decide what to do. I am particularly shocked because the queen cannot have known the outcome of the battle with Suppiluliumas when she began to make her overtures. She cannot therefore even be excused by the justification that this was Egypt’s only chance for peace after defeat. It is nothing but the most ruthless bid for power.”

“Such self-righteousness, from a man with his own glance straying to the Double Crown!” Ay snapped, stung into an irrational defense of his daughter, for whom, he had already been forced to acknowledge, there was no defense. “I know you well, Horemheb, as you know me. If the opportunity came your way, you would take it, wouldn’t you?”

“I am tired of seeing the might of Egypt passing and passing again into hands not worthy or capable of controlling it!” Horemheb shouted back. “Years ago I should have risked all to depose Akhenaten and find a faithful son of Amun to place on the throne, as you should. We, too, are traitors for letting the greatest empire in the world die slowly while we argued the validity of the Aten’s right to rule Egypt through your nephew!” Horemheb sat back, breathing hard, and Ay scanned him slowly.

“You think you are safe in revealing yourself to me tonight because I am old, and you believe my day is over,” he said softly. “But you are wrong, Commander, so be prudent in what you say. Your own position has never been more precarious. Your bid for influence over Smenkhara through a successful war did not work.” He wanted a drink of water but would not reach for the jug. “But you did not ask me to come to air our personal grievances. We must solve this dilemma.”

“It is no dilemma.” Horemheb had retreated, leaning back into the shadows so his face was in darkness. “She deserves execution.”

“Whether she deserves it or not, we cannot kill her. The credibility and veneration accorded to royalty has never been weaker. Egypt is weary of its ruler’s selfishness and is crying out for reassurance. If a queen is put under the knife, that credibility will be destroyed. How can a goddess be executed by her worshipers? The common people must never be allowed to ask themselves that question. Besides, Horemheb, Nefertiti is no Tiye. She is not entirely responsible for actions whose consequences she did not foresee.”

“So speaks the doting father!” Horemheb sneered. “She could have saved Egypt long ago, when Akhenaten adored and trusted her, but she was too selfish and stupid to try. She deserves death. But you are right when you speak of political necessity. Therefore I suggest that we send to May, ordering him to lie in wait for this prince just over the border and kill him and all with him when he appears.”

“Providing Suppiluliumas cooperates.” Despondently Ay had come to realize in the course of their conversation that Horemheb need not have consulted him at all. He could have made the excuse that it was primarily a military matter and dealt with it himself, presenting Ay later with a remedy already applied. Pulling the water toward him, he drank deeply.
I wonder how long it will be
, he thought darkly,
before Horemheb realizes that Nefertiti could be killed secretly and some innocuous story spread for the benefit of the peasants. She has been living quietly in the north palace for so long that many must believe her already dead
.

“Oh, he will,” Horemheb replied emphatically. “Whatever doubts he may have, he will not neglect an opportunity for a bloodless victory. He has loomed over Egypt for so long that we have begun to imbue him with the attributes of a god, but he is not without weaknesses. Yes, he sent our army fleeing, but if our soldiers had been even slightly better prepared, the story would have been different. One day we will defeat him.”

“But we cannot dream of one day. We must consider the next hour,” Ay reminded him dryly. “Does Smenkhara know of this?”
It was a foolish question
, Ay thought even as he asked it.
Of course Horemheb would have gone straight to the prince for permission to act, and Smenkhara must have insisted that the commander confer with me. Otherwise
, Ay thought,
I might never have known of this
.

“Yes,” Horemheb answered. “He has graciously consented to wait while we deliberate, and, of course, if we had disagreed on a plan of action, he would have had the last word. Shall we go to him?”

Ay pulled himself out of the chair and stood for a moment to allow his heartbeat to slow before following Horemheb from the room.

Smenkhara, like Horemheb, was naked but for a sweat-stained blue ribbon bound around his forehead and a small turquoise Eye of Horus hanging on a thin gold chain around his neck. He was slumped on the throne in his reception room, cushions under him, one heel hooked high on the edge of the gilt seat, one pale arm resting on a raised knee. They knelt before him and rose, waiting for him to speak. In here there were many lamps, and Smenkhara did not seem to mind the added heat or their throat-catching perfume.

“Well, Uncle,” he said caustically, “my royal cousin has outdone herself in foolishness this time. Is there any reason why she should not be killed or exiled? Perhaps we could send her to the Khatti, seeing that she seems to have such a desire for their company.”

It was a personal accusation, and Ay prepared to answer, but surprisingly Horemheb said quickly, “Highness, nothing would be served by the queen’s death. The fanbearer and I propose that sentries be posted in northern Syria and a small accident arranged for the foreigner who will surely come. If we are clever, even Suppiluliumas will not be able to accuse Egypt directly of the murder.”

“Nothing would be served?” Smenkhara cut in violently, his voice rising, the languid hand hanging from his knee suddenly clenching. “My mother promised me the Double Crown. She promised! I deserve it. It is mine by right of blood, and Nefertiti would have taken it from me!”

BOOK: The Twelfth Transforming
11.05Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Scar by Kelly Favor
Don't I Know You? by Karen Shepard
American Wife by Taya Kyle
Sink: The Lost World by Perrin Briar
The Rogue's Princess by Eve Edwards
The River Nymph by Shirl Henke
Sigmund Freud* by Kathleen Krull
Eliza's Child by Maggie Hope
The Season of the Stranger by Stephen Becker