The river mist had now burned off. From behind us rose a cheer as the crews of the other barges realised they were free of the sandbanks. A strong, fine day. On either side of us stretched the rich black soil, and, beyond, the various shifting golds and greens of the ripening rye, oat and wheat fields. The gleaming white of the temples of Luxor and Karnak eventually disappeared. The captain left the pilot shouting at the steersmen to maintain the course set. The leading oarsman intoned a hymn to Hapi, the River God, ‘Our delight is in him who guides us …’
The refrain was taken up by the men as the oars were lowered. Other hymns rose faintly from the accompanying barges. I climbed down, and Sobeck and Djarka followed me further up into the prow, where we could talk free of Ay’s eavesdroppers. Djarka rolled out carpets, of bead matting but still better than the hard wood of the ship, and we ate our morning meaclass="underline" light beer and yesterday’s bread followed a pewter bowl of sliced fruit. Sobeck dipped his finger in the beer and carefully wrote four hieroglyphs, three birds and a sitting man, the word for ‘beware’.
‘Beware of what?’ I teased.
Sobeck gestured at the cabin, then at The Glory of Seth.
‘Beware of the Princess Ankhesenamun,’ he murmured, ‘as well as Meryre.’
I had informed him during our hasty preparations about what had happened at the Royal Circle, though we had never discussed it. Meryre’s proposals had been finally accepted. We would journey upriver. Djarka would take the Prince and Princess into the City of the Aten, whilst Tutu and other members of Meryre’s entourage would withdraw to Buhen, the great fortress which dominated Egypt’s route south into the land of Kush. I would proceed, with Meryre, to the Delta.
‘I am surprised,’ Sobeck sipped from his beer, ‘that God’s Father Ay agreed to all of it.’
‘My lord Ay had no choice, and neither do we,’ I replied. ‘Thebes is very dangerous, full of discontent. The Shabtis of Akenhaten do pose a threat to anyone linked with the past, though I must admit …’
‘What?’ Djarka demanded.
‘I am confused,’ I responded. ‘Some of it I understand, some of it I don’t. Meryre and myself will, I suppose, be protected. The City of the Aten is a secure place for the Prince. I can understand Meryre’s entourage wanting somewhere in which they will feel safe whilst at the same time assuring us that there will be no danger to the Prince during his stay at the City of the Aten.’
‘What is Meryre plotting?’ Djarka demanded.
‘Meryre doesn’t concern me,’ I replied. ‘My lord Ay does. What if, let us say,’ I dipped a finger into my own beer and drew a circle on the dry wood, ‘the Royal Council is the rim of a wheel. The centre is Lord Ay.’
‘And the spokes?’ Djarka asked.
‘The lady Ankhesenamun,’ I murmured. ‘What if the lady Ankhesenamun, on behalf of her grandfather, Ay, conspires to be the ally and friend of every faction in the Royal Circle?’
‘Including Horemheb and Rameses?’ Sobeck scoffed. ‘Such officers would have little to do with her. She is the daughter of Nefertiti.’
‘She’s also the daughter of Pharaoh,’ I retorted. ‘They might not be interested in her but they could be interested in what she can offer. One day she will be Queen of Egypt and, if the Gods have their way, mother of Egypt’s heir. I know she has made similar approaches to Meryre whilst at the same time contacting me.’
‘So Ay controls his own granddaughter?’ Djarka asked.
‘Yes,’ I agreed. ‘Using her to find out what is happening in each camp.’
‘But the murders?’ Sobeck demanded.
‘What if …’ I paused. ‘What if the Shabtis of Akenhaten are just a group of assassins, individuals like that gardener, controlled by Ankhesenamun and her grandfather? They use them to strike at those who, apparently, betrayed Akenhaten. They keep alive and vibrant the sense of danger, of imminent threat …’
‘So General Rahmose’s death was to frighten Meryre and the rest?’
‘Possibly.’ I clinked my goblet against Sobeck’s. ‘What if Meryre is truly frightened? Ay draws him into discussion. He agrees that I will accompany him to this usurper’s camp but offers him the fortress of Buhen as a place of sanctuary.’
‘Well away,’ Djarka agreed, ‘from both the Delta and the troops of the usurper, and just as far from Thebes and the City of the Aten.’
‘Yes, I can follow your reasoning, Baboon of the South,’ Sobeck agreed. ‘Ay has now neatly divided his enemies. Meryre is sent north, his supporters go south, whilst the Prince is moved out of harm’s way. Yes, it possesses a certain twisted logic, though it’s a dangerous game to play. If this usurper sweeps south, and Meryre’s faction decide to support him, they occupy one of the most powerful fortresses in the kingdom, the gateway to the gold mines of Kush.’
‘Ay is a gambler,’ I replied. ‘He will deal with one danger at a time. He first wants to strengthen his hand in Thebes, use this crisis to get rid of his enemies. Meryre to the north, Tutu to the south, even Generals Horemheb and Rameses are preparing to leave for Memphis.’
‘So Ay remains in Thebes building up his power? But why, Mahu, should the Shabtis of Akenhaten — and it must have been them — launch an attack on you?’
‘We know it was the Shabtis of the Akenhaten,’ I replied. ‘When the room was cleared of snakes we found two Aten scarabs lying on the floor — they’d been overlooked in the confusion. That made me reflect about the night of the attack. I was tired, sitting in my own chamber. I didn’t ask that servant to come in to see if I needed food or to clear those piles of linen. So I made very careful enquiries. According to a chamberlain, the servant who was bitten by the snake claimed he’d been sent to my chamber; the fellow repeated the same story to my mercenaries who let him through. He actually told them how he had been summoned to clear certain cloths away as well as see if I needed anything to eat or drink.’
‘So he was the intended victim?’ Sobeck demanded.
‘Yes, that attack was to show Meryre that the Shabtis of Akenhaten strike at anybody, not just members of his retinue. A carefully measured ruse to heighten fear, to keep the Royal Circle united, at least for a while, in the face of the common threat, which makes me think that Ay and his wily granddaughter are behind all of this.’
‘If you’ve reached that conclusion,’ Djarka murmured, ‘then so will others.’
‘I suppose they will. It’s just a matter of who will move first. Who will succeed? Once this present threat is removed, things will become a little clearer.’
Our journey north continued uneventfully. We passed Denderah, the great turning on the Nile. At first nothing seemed wrong, out of place or amiss. The river traffic was busy with pleasure boats and fishing smacks. On the banks the peasants and farmers, rejoicing at the effects of the inundation, were preparing to sow another harvest. Yet every so often we saw plumes of black smoke, dark against the light blue sky, whilst the smell of burning mixed with the rich stench of Nile mud, fish and rotting vegetation. The marines I sent to investigate brought back reports of desert raiders on the eastern banks, whilst on the west, Libyan war parties had plundered unprotected, isolated communities. Sometimes these marauders were captured and their corpses impaled on stakes, fixed on the high cliffs above the river, black shadows against the sky. On one occasion we passed a sandbank where at least ten river pirates had been impaled by the mayor of the local city. The breakdown of law and order could also be glimpsed in the empty quaysides. Occasionally we’d go ashore, my standard carried before us displaying a leaping gazelle against a gold and blue background and, on the reverse, the white feather of Ma’at. We marched along silent streets into deserted marketplaces.
Elsewhere the effects of disruption were difficult to detect. The quaysides and docks of the great cities were busy. Barges unloaded aromatic gum, bark, cinnamon, gold, ivory, ebony, as well as precious wood from Canaan. When we returned to the river, we passed numerous barges carrying jars of wine, liquors, fruits, Lebanese cedar, oxen, cattle, and on one occasion even a herd of baby ibex. At Abydos, however, where the great mass of the Temple of Osins stretched above a dark forest of green palm trees, Governor Motep nosed the ground before me in the precincts of the Temple of Min and whined about the growing incursions and lawlessness.