The Veiled One had arranged the tables in a circle, seating me on his right hand, his brother Tuthmosis on his left. All the others were there. He had even arranged an empty cushion for Sobeck and had plates and goblets laid before it. Tuthmosis had vehemently objected but the Veiled One had laughed and insisted that even at a feast like this the ghosts were welcome. Each of us had a heset, a temple girl. Clad in thin, gauze-like gowns, their every movement was emphasised by the tinkling bracelets on their ankles and wrists; their long elegant fingers glittered with rings, their nails were painted a deep purple. They were there to entertain, to flatter, to soothe our hearts and satisfy our every whim.
At first the banquet had been difficult. This was the first time we had all met since Sobeck’s banishment. Horemheb and Rameses were resplendent in their officers’ uniforms, Captain and Lieutenant of the Sacred Band. They wore round their necks a collar proclaiming their membership of the most redoubtable regiments in all the hosts of Egypt. Huy looked more relaxed in his splendid robes. Pentju and Meryre hadn’t changed much but sat together, whispering across the girl in between. Maya looked distinctly uncomfortable in a perfume-drenched wig, his face laced with sweat, although he was as charming and vivacious as ever. The Veiled One was a perfect host. The setting of a place for Sobeck, the hosting of such a party and the invitation to Tuthmosis to join them were all part of a studied insult to his own father. He’d whispered this to me as I helped him dress in the cool of the evening.
‘I want my father to know, Mahu, that I will not remain silent, that I will not be kept for ever in the shadows and corners.’
The temple girls were trained courtesans but even they paused to study this strange-looking Prince. They would return to their temples, taking their stories with them: a message to the priests that the Divine One’s second son was not content to hide like a mouse or pass like a shadow through the courts of Egypt. It had been four days since that meeting with his mother in this very hall. The Veiled One had not discussed the matter again but I knew what he plotted, what he wished me to do. He had placed the swollen-throated Uraeus, the spitting-cobra of Egypt around his forehead.
‘The snake knows when to strike, Mahu.’ He turned from the glittering piece of polished silver which served as a mirror. ‘And so do you.’
For most of the meal my master had ignored me. Now and again he would whisper instructions and I would raise my hand for the steward of the feast or to summon Imri who guarded the entrance. The Veiled One became engaged in deep conversation with his brother. Only once did I catch fragments of their talk. Tuthmosis was urging his brother to be prudent, not to catch his father’s eye or incur his anger.
‘I already have.’ The Veiled One picked up his goblet and toasted his brother, then refused to answer the spate of insistent questions which followed.
I had mixed water with my wine but the heat and warmth, and the good food had made me sleepy. I was prodded awake by a sharp elbow thrust, and glanced quickly around. Maya was leaving the hall, alone. Horemheb and Rameses were showing off to their girls. Huy, cradling his wine cup, sat on the cushions, smiling beatifically to himself. Meryre was anxiously interrogating Pentju, probably questioning him about some ailment he suffered. Even as a boy Meryre, for all his confidence in the gods, had a secret dread of disease and infection. I waited my moment, excused myself, winked at Imri and followed Maya out into the darkness. I looked round. He was not in the courtyard so I went across through the half-open side gate. I paused and, from the sounds, I gathered Maya was relieving himself. I waited. He came stumbling back, stepped out onto the pathway and glanced up.
‘Why, Mahu?’
‘Why, Maya?’ I smiled. ‘I wish to have words with you.’ I put my arm protectively across his shoulder, turned him round and walked back to the small, tile-edged pool where the lotus blossom floated gently in the moonlight. ‘Sit down, sit down.’
He did so unwillingly, muscles tensed. ‘What do you want, Mahu?’
‘You are in the House of Scribes?’ I asked.
‘No, no.’ He spread his feet, rubbed his hands together, shoulders hunched. ‘I work in the House of Secrets.’
‘Ah, the place of spies! What do you do there?’
‘We gather reports from all over Egypt and beyond our borders; from merchants, traders, sailors, our allies in Canaan, our servants in Kush, our envoys in Punt.’
‘Very good. And you are doing well?’
‘Look, Mahu, I don’t need your sarcasm.’
‘But you do need your life.’ I took the dagger concealed beneath my robe and pushed the tip against his fleshy throat.
‘You’ve drunk too much.’ He made to rise.
I pressed the point harder. Maya yelped and sat back.
‘Sobeck,’ I insisted. ‘Did you betray my friend’s meetings with his loved one in the olive grove? You know I watched her die, or at least heard her screams. It was hideous! I visited Sobeck in the Chains. He was condemned to the Wood but the Divine One relented. Now my friend and companion Sobeck is being cooked like a piece of meat in the heat of the Western Desert.’
Maya’s plump shoulders shook, and he trembled so much I thought he was having a fit. His face became contorted and he burst out crying.
‘You are a contemptible bastard, Maya! You betrayed one of your companions. Why? Because he wouldn’t lie with you? Because he wouldn’t play with the thing you’ve got between your legs?’
Maya’s sobs became uncontrollable. ‘I am sorry,’ he wailed, taking his hands away, the kohl round his eyes now running in long black streams down his cheeks. ‘I’m sorry about the girl and Sobeck. But you have it wrong, Mahu. I loved Sobeck, I always have, I always will, even though I know it’s wrong.’
Something about the petulant twist to his lips, the self-pity in that fat oiled face made me lose my temper. The knife clattered to the ground. I tore off his wig. Maya tried to resist but he was fat and never the best of soldiers; I kept him seated and forced his head back. He shouted and screamed. I put my hand across his mouth. He tried to bite me so I punched him then pushed his face beneath the water. He struggled and slid off. I stood in the pool forcing his head beneath the water, watching the bubbles break in the glorious moonlight, feeling his fat body thrash like a juicy carp caught by a hunter. All my rage bubbled, for Sobeck, for myself, for the insults I had suffered and, above all, for the dangers this man posed. Suddenly his body began to grow limp and I let go of his head. Gasping and spluttering he staggered up and cast about. I caught him by the front of his robe and pulled him up. We stood, the water almost up to our waists. Maya’s face looked frightful. I wrenched the necklace from his neck and threw it over my shoulder, hearing it clatter on the ground behind me.
‘I’m the Baboon Mahu. Do you remember why I was called that?’ I tightened my grip and pulled him closer. ‘Baboons have strong arms and wrists.’
‘You’ll go to the Wood for this,’ he spluttered.
‘I doubt it,’ I replied, ‘and if I do I’ll tell them you knew all about Sobeck as well as your love for him. Does the Master of the House of Secrets know about your private life, Maya? Do you go to the temple forecourts or into the marketplace to watch the pretty boys pass?’
Maya turned his head and spat some of the pool water out of his mouth. I let go of him, pushing him away.
‘You are right, Maya. I have no friends. But Sobeck was the nearest I ever came to it. What did he do wrong but love a girl? She was a Divine Ornament but the King of the Two Lands has more concubines than I have hairs on my head.’
‘That’s treason,’ he spluttered.
He moved away but I followed.