A coldness pricked the nape of my neck, sending a shiver across my shoulders. I stared at the severed head, embedded in the sand. The vultures were already circling above us.
‘It’s not the Malkata,’ I replied. ‘It’s the Valley of the Shadows out in the Eastern Red Lands.’ I explained Akhenaten’s pilgrimages to what he termed his ‘sacred shrine’.
‘Ah well.’ Sobeck pulled his dagger in and out of its embroidered leather sheath. ‘Now we come to something else.’ He gestured across the oasis. ‘Do you trust Djarka?’
‘With my life.’
‘Why, what do you know of him?’
‘He’s a member of the Sheshnu,’ I declared. ‘One of their tribe. A good hunter, faithful and loyal to Great Queen Tiye.’
‘But you trust him with your life? Why?’
‘He reminds me of you, Sobeck.’
‘As I am?’
‘As you were.’
Sobeck glanced away. ‘Good, good,’ he muttered. ‘But don’t trust Snefru.’
‘No!’ I shouted and stepped back. ‘No, not Snefru?’
Djarka, talking to the scorpion men, turned in alarm, his hand going to the quiver at his feet. I gestured all was well.
‘Yes, Snefru.’ Sobeck was enjoying himself. ‘He has been with the shaven heads of Amun.’
I glanced at the severed head of the Jackal leader. I couldn’t make out his features, as the eyes and nose were buried in the sand but, for a moment, I thought its mouth was laughing.
‘What’s the matter, Mahu?’
I recalled stepping into the assassin’s punt.
‘I’d always wondered,’ I replied, ‘how they recognised me. Of course I was wearing Snefru’s cloak, garish, like that of a Desert Wanderer.’
‘Well, now you know.’ Sobeck lifted his hands in a gesture of peace. ‘You’ll remember me, Mahu.’
I stepped closer. ‘Why did you remember me, Sobeck? Why are you doing this?’
‘Because of what I was, because of what I am.’ He smiled thinly. ‘If you go into the dark, Mahu, then so do I. Peace, friend.’ He backed away. ‘I’ll watch with interest what happens.’
Djarka and I took Snefru that same day after darkness had fallen. Fighting hard to control my fury, I asked him to come for a walk, out of the palace grounds into the trees, not far from where Ay had poisoned the scribe Ineti. I chattered about what we were going to do on the morrow, certain items to be bought in Thebes. When the opportunity presented itself I stepped back and knocked him senseless with a blow from the club I’d hidden beneath my robes. Djarka soon had the unconscious man’s hands and feet lashed to pegs driven into the ground, a filthy rag thrust into his mouth. He squatted beside him while I returned to the palace and searched Snefru’s chamber. I found what I was looking for in a wall cavity hidden by the bed: a leather bag full of the same ingots Sobeck had showed me, as well as a pass allowing Snefru into the inner precincts of the Temple of Amun.
By the time I returned, Snefru had regained consciousness and Djarka had placed a small alabaster jar of oil next to his head. I felt a twinge of pity at those fear-filled eyes, that grotesque, scarred face twisted in pain. Djarka had already been busy cutting his cheeks, arms and legs with a razor-sharp dagger. The blood seeped out. I removed the gag.
‘You can scream, Snefru, but if you do, someone may hear and I’ll have to put the gag back. Shall I tell you where we are going? Out to the Red Lands, the hole has already been dug. I will bury you alive. You’re bleeding so the lions and hyenas will come and sniff you and …’
‘Master, Master,’ Snefru gabbled.
‘Don’t Master me,’ I replied, crouching next to him. ‘I’ve found both the pass and the gold. I know about the Libyans and your meetings with the shaven heads. All you have to decide, Snefru, is whether you are to die quickly and quietly here or out in the Red Lands. You’ll scream and yell as the hot sand fills your mouth and nostrils. The prowlers will sniff your blood and dig you out, like a warthog hiding in its den.’
‘I know nothing!’ Snefru screamed, body buckling against the thongs as Djarka, squatting on the other side, sliced his arm.
‘Why, Snefru?’ I asked. ‘I trusted you.’
‘You used to.’ Snefru glared at Djarka.
‘Oh, it’s more than that,’ I retorted.
‘The shaven pates.’ Snefru gave a sigh. ‘A quick death, Master?’
‘Very quick, no more than a heartbeat.’
‘Two months ago,’ Snefru confessed, ‘one of their acolytes approached me in the marketplace at Thebes. He took me into a beer-house and told me they knew everything about Imri and how he and the others had died. One day I would be punished, he swore; they’d crucify me on the walls of Thebes. They said the Grotesque, ’ Snefru coughed, ‘was a heretic, who would soon be sent into the Underworld to meet his just deserts. They offered me a farm, gold, the protection of Amun.’
‘What — just for information?’ I scoffed. ‘Snefru, you knew so little. Tell me about the Libyans,’ I persisted.
‘All I was told is that one day soon, Akhenaten would go into the Valley of the Shadows.’
‘And you’d go with him,’ I interrupted. ‘You and the rest would seal the valley entrance.’
‘The Libyans would attack,’ Snefru went on. ‘I was to wear a blue rag round my left arm and hide.’
‘And the Libyans would sweep in, kill your companions, murder the Prince and anyone with him.’
‘There was more.’ Snefru cleared his throat and Djarka withdrew the knife. ‘If possible, they were to attack this place.’
‘The Palace of the Aten?’
‘A night raid to kill and burn as much as they could before retreating downriver.’
I struck Snefru across the face.
‘Of course,’ I whispered. ‘And the chariot squadrons would search the Eastern Desert but the Libyans would be back across the Nile.’
‘If any chariot squadrons were sent out,’ Djarka added. ‘If our Prince were dead, and Ay and Nefertiti, not to mention ourselves, there would be a delay, caused by the confusion and chaos.’
‘Who’s behind this?’ I asked.
‘I met the same priest,’ Snefru yelped as Djarka cut his arm again. ‘He brought me messages, gold. They’ve chosen the day; it’s very soon.’
‘I know which day they’d choose,’ I snarled. ‘Our Prince is famous for deliberately ignoring the decrees of the Temple. On an inauspicious day when everyone stays at home, he insists on going out long before dawn to worship his god.’
Snefru nodded.
‘The rest?’ Djarka asked. ‘Your companions?’
‘They know nothing.’ He winced as Djarka cut again. ‘They are innocent.’ Then he began to cry, the tears coursing down his scarred cheeks.
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.