‘Alas, little time remains to us to conclude our own arrangements for departure. I will leave your uncle to give you an account of our agreement regarding the troublemaker and tyrant Aziru,’ said Nakht, taking the only revenge available to him. And so, having thrown his cat among the ducks, he chose to depart; and we bowed and left them to their arguments.
Back in our accommodation, Nakht stood very still, trying to come to terms with what had happened. He was holding a drinking bowl, and sipping the water. Suddenly, in a fit of fury, he dashed it against the wall. It shattered into shards. I was shocked; I had never before seen him succumb to such fury. He was always so controlled in his behaviour.
‘I am an imbecile. Why did I not foresee this?’ he hissed.
‘If that delicate boy ever sires a warrior king, I will eat my own sandals,’ said Simut unhelpfully.
‘It is a calculated and terrible insult,’ said Nakht. ‘No wonder the Crown Prince was looking pleased with himself. I made a fatal mistake. I underestimated him.’
He began to pace, trying to think his way out of this catastrophe.
‘However, we have no choice. We must return home to Egypt with Prince Zannanza, and find a plausible way to present him to the court and the people,’ he continued. ‘Egypt has suffered greater difficulties. Tutankhamun himself was no warrior king. Nor was his father. Perhaps a quiet, artistic, intellectual Hittite noble on the throne will actually be more acceptable, and indeed desirable, than a foolish, knuckle-brained warrior. Who is to say there will not be heirs? These things can be managed, arranged…’
But he did not sound truly convinced of his own arguments.
‘Just because he is beautiful does not mean his private desires lie in … other directions,’ I said. ‘And even if they do, who is to say such a man would not make a fine King and still father heirs? The Prince seems to me noble and accomplished, and he must have had to discover the courage to be himself in a land that would hardly value his qualities.’
Nakht absorbed these words quietly. He and I had never discussed the reasons for his not having married and raised a family of his own.
‘Indeed, the Tale of King Neferkare and the Military Commander Sasenet is a story of just such a secret love,’ he said quietly. And then he glanced at me carefully.
There was a moment of silence between the three of us.
‘This is all very well, but tales of love will not help us to return the Prince to Egypt without misfortune,’ said Simut. ‘That in itself will be a dangerous task.’
‘The sooner we return to Thebes the better. Time is running out. Who knows what events may have passed in the court? Perhaps Ay is already dead…’
‘You are both forgetting something. The killer is here. Aziru is the most likely suspect, and he has not been caught,’ I said. ‘He knows about us. We cannot afford to leave this matter unresolved. We cannot afford to have him shadow us, and then attack again, outside the city, when we do not have the protection of the King.’
Nakht was about to reply when there was a loud knock on the door. It was the Chief Steward returning with the King’s instructions for our return.
‘The King considers the sea journey from Ura to Ugarit too dangerous. The currents, as you know, flow against the return journey, and risk taking the ship too close to the Alashiyan coastline. Besides, it may be known to foreign spies that you have already travelled that way, and it is bad strategy to repeat your movements,’ he said.
‘But Ura is a Hittite dominion, and Ugarit is loyal to you, so surely the King can ensure the safety of a convoy through those cities?’ said Nakht.
‘As you know, the King’s second son is Viceroy in Aleppo. Therefore a Hittite military convoy will accompany you to the border town of Sarissa, and beyond to Aleppo. We have garrisons, of course, but it is approaching winter, and our troops will be returning to the homeland. So from there, you will be on your own. But your own army is engaged in the wars there. I believe the divisions have not all retired to Memphis. Therefore you can call upon their support,’ replied the Chief Steward.
‘My lord, it is well known your eastern borders are insecure, and that the reason the King’s second son, the Prince Telepinu, has been sent to Aleppo, is to quell anti-Hittite forces in that area,’ said Nakht. ‘I mean, of course, the Army of Chaos are known to be active in that territory.’
The Chief Steward looked uncomfortable.
‘My lord Envoy, your information is out of date. Hittite authority is well established in the east. Our forts and watchtowers will provide security and accommodation. Our watchmen of the Long Road will be responsible for your safe passage. And surely you must know, according to our laws, all citizens of every locality are held personally responsible for the safe passage of all merchants and dignitaries. If any harm comes to them, then restitution must be made.’
‘That will be little satisfaction to us if we are already dead,’ replied Nakht.
‘Hittite honour is at stake in this. Such a thing is unthinkable,’ replied the Chief Steward quickly.
‘It is not only thinkable, it is also alarmingly plausible. We could not be more vulnerable, and any ill fortune that might befall us would be simply catastrophic, for both sides. I hope you understand that? I hope you understand my concern about the alarming internal discord within the royal family?’
‘The Crown Prince is reconciled. You need have no fear of reprisals,’ replied the Chief Steward. ‘And we have accomplished an agreement to create the circumstances of peace between our empires.’
‘But that will not be confirmed until the marriage is performed, and so everything remains in peril. There is great dissent among you. There is a killer here in your city and it is most likely Aziru himself. Where will he strike next? We are travelling through unstable, dangerous territory. It offers him the perfect opportunity to assassinate us. You can see my point.’
The Chief Steward nodded and shrugged, exasperated. ‘I have done my best. These are the commands of the King. For the moment, the Crown Prince has his ear. We must make the best of it.’
Once the Chief Steward had departed, we fell quickly into discussion.
‘He’s right about not retracing our steps. They will have to guard us all the way through the Hittite lands,’ said Simut. ‘And then we can travel west, and take a ship south, or join up with the Way of Horus; either will take us quickly back to Egypt.’
‘We have no choice. But how can we trust these guards? I fear some further revelation of the Crown Prince’s treachery,’ said Nakht.
‘I would like to point out that the land route takes us into territory where Egypt has no alliances, no forts, and no way stations. We will have to pass through what is essentially the noman’s-land between ourselves and the Hittites. And remember, too: the last thing we need is for Horemheb to discover us. That would be worse than meeting the Army of Chaos!’ I said.
‘The Way of Horus is probably safest. I will be able to send letters ahead of us. We can pass again for a commercial delegation, provided Prince Zannanza assents. And as for Horemheb, the war is over for this season; the Hittites are retiring to Hattusa. He has no need to waste his time on the front. He has more pressing matters at home. He will need as many of his troops as possible back in Egypt. For obvious reasons.’
We left the city the following afternoon. The future marriage had been announced, and so the processional way was lined with nobles, bureaucrats and dignitaries; our own convoy was surrounded by a troop of Hittite guards, bearing spears and axes. The King rode before us, with the Crown Prince and Prince Zannanza on either side of him. The Queen rode behind them, but at no point did she turn in Nakht’s direction. I looked around, searching the countless faces of the crowds, desperate to catch a glimpse of the Levantine face I had seen at the banquet. But there was no sign.