I suppose it all began the night after Hotep had left. They came for me when the darkness was deepest, sliding into my chamber, stifling my mouth, binding my hands and feet, wrapping me in a coarse blanket. I struggled, lashed out, but they carried me effortlessly, moving like shadows along the passageway down the stairs and across the courtyard. A cold breeze pierced the blanket and froze my sweat. A gate opened. The smell of wood, of flowers, of crushed grass; more voices talking swiftly, hoarsely indistinct. Orders were being issued.
I was thrown into a cart which moved; every jolt of its wheels felt like a blow. This time there were different smells, the sounds of the night, the screech of an animal in pain, the cry of a bird. The breeze grew colder; I heard the slop of water. I was being taken aboard a barge. My terrors increased. Images came and went of the Danga dwarf being swept towards the crocodile pool, of Imri fighting for his life. Who were my abductors? Had the Veiled One changed his mind? Had Hotep taken matters into his own hands? Or had the Magnificent One, tired of his wife’s intervention, despatched his assassins?
I heard the scrape of the barge on the sandy shale and tried to relax, becoming more aware of the tight ropes round my wrist, the gag thrust in my mouth. Another cart-ride, jolting as before. I found myself sliding downwards, so the cart must be moving up a slight incline, probably into the Western Desert. The cold grew more intense. The sound of the night stalkers echoed ominously: a heartwrenching roar, the full-throated hunting cry of lions, followed by the yips, snarls and barks of those who followed this ferocious hunting pack.
At last the cart stopped; I was lifted out. The blankets were pulled away, the gag released and the ropes binding my ankles were cut. I was aware of fire, light, icy winds, starlit skies, dark shapes around me. Then a shroud was placed across my head, sealing me once again in darkness. My breathing sounded for an eternity. I was forced to kneel; sharp pebbles cut my knees. I received a stinging blow across my back.
‘Well, well, Mahu, Baboon of the South. We brought you out here to the desert where so many men’s bones lie. Tell me, Mahu, what happened the night your master went hunting?’
‘I have told you,’ I spluttered. ‘We were attacked by Desert Wanderers, Sand Dwellers, I don’t know! They crept in, loosening shafts through the night. We tried to gather round the chariot. Some were killed, others were driven off.’
Again the stinging blow across my back.
‘Lies!’ the voice snarled. ‘And what else, Mahu? Imri’s death, a keen hunter, a man who knew the Nile and its dangers?’
‘An accident!’ I screamed.
‘So many accidents,’ the voice murmured. ‘What does your master say to you, Mahu? Does he plot against the Divine One?’
‘He tends his garden,’ I retorted, ‘and visits his House of Paintings.’ For one eerie moment the image of that beautiful woman standing by the gate in the torchlight returned to haunt me.
‘People visit him,’ I spluttered. I felt a cut on my ankle, a knife slicing the skin. The cut was so unexpected, the knife so razor sharp, the blood was pouring out before a stab of pain coursed through my leg.
‘We have only just begun, Mahu. We’ve drawn blood, we’ll let it trickle then we’ll bind your feet and leave you here.’
The questioning continued; about the fate of the Kushites, Imri’s death, what my master did — who visited him? The questions came so fast I couldn’t determine who was questioning me; in truth, I didn’t care. My body shook. My legs trembled in a cold sweat. Sometimes I’d drift into sleep; dreams came, memories from the past. Weni lying in that pool, floating face down on the surface. On his back, my pet monkey Bes. In the trees beyond, Sobeck and his lover locked in a passionate embrace, her arms and legs around him, her long hair falling, unaware of the hunters racing towards them. The Veiled One sitting on cushions, his almond-shaped eyes staring at me intently. Queen Tiye slapping me across the face, Isithia dragging me by the hand. Cold water was thrown over me, another blow to my back and the questioning continued. At last I collapsed onto my side.
‘Enough!’ a voice cried.
The coarse-smelling blanket was taken from my head, the bonds on my hands were cut. I was half-dragged across to the roaring fire. A wineskin was forced between my lips, a platter of bread and soft delicious lamb thrust into my hand. I ate and drank.
‘Mahu! Mahu?’
I raised my head. The Veiled One was sitting across by the fire, dressed in a Sand Dweller’s striped robe, the hood pulled back. At his side sat his mother Queen Tiye, similarly dressed, her hair falling down either side of her unpainted face. Beside them was a man who kept in the shadows, his face indistinct, although I could make out a sharp nose, glittering eyes and a bushy moustache and beard. I gazed around: a circle of men protected us, their drawn weapons glinting in the firelight — shields, spears and swords. Others were armed with bows, the arrows already notched. Beyond them another line of men held torches, keeping away the night prowlers, the beasts of the desert. I groaned and took a slurp from the wineskin.
‘I am cold.’ I grasped my ankle. The blood had stopped flowing, leaving an open, aching wound. ‘Why this?’ I protested. ‘What games do you play?’
‘Life and death,’ Queen Tiye retorted, pushing her hands up the sleeves of her gown. ‘You were visited today by God’s Father Hotep, emissary of the Divine One. He sat with you in the hall of audience, didn’t he?’
I nodded.
‘He urged you to reflect about choices, what paths to follow.’
I nodded. The Veiled One sat gazing at me. In the light of the fire his face seemed more beautiful than grotesque, the eyes soft and liquid, the full pouting lips parted in a smile.
‘Don’t you trust me?’ I asked. ‘Is this what we have come to?’
‘We had to make sure, Mahu.’
‘Haven’t I proved my loyalty already? What other evidence do you need?’
‘It’s not about the past,’ Tiye interrupted, ‘but now and the future.’
She spoke in a tongue I didn’t understand to their companion who withdrew. Queen Tiye gestured at me to join them. They moved back from the fire so we could sit facing each other. Tiye urged me to eat and drink, holding the wineskin herself.
‘You can sleep tomorrow, Mahu. Tonight you must listen. I have told you about my son’s birth, the pain, the way he was abducted, kept by the priests and abused.’
The Veiled One snarled as if his mother’s words pricked his memory and boiled the hatred seething within him.
‘Ignored and abused,’ Tiye continued. ‘What the priests also knew, Mahu, were the dreams I had whilst I carried my son in the egg, whilst he danced in my womb. Dreams of grandeur, Mahu, of a Pharaoh who would rise high on the far horizon. Of course I was delighted! I chattered to my husband, the Divine One, who shared this knowledge with the priests. They cast their own horoscopes and Pharaoh became troubled. The priests did not share my joy but whispered about the Accursed, about a ruler who would mete out justice to the other gods of Egypt.’
I stared half-drunkenly back. I never cared for dreams or horoscopes. Aunt Isithia had cured me of all that.
‘You don’t believe us, do you, Mahu?’ the Veiled One demanded.
I recalled my words to Hotep. ‘I believe in the effects of love and hate. Of a child being alone and abused.’
The Veiled One laughed softly.
‘Is that why you brought me out in the desert?’
‘Look around you,’ Tiye urged. ‘Who are these men, Mahu?’
‘Ruthless killers,’ I replied. ‘I ache from head to toe.’
Again the soft laugh.
‘Desert Wanderers, Sand Dwellers,’ I yawned, rubbing my arms.