The King's Man (8 page)

“You are King under the laws of Ma’at, like every one of us, Amunhotep,” Huy said, doing his best to keep his voice even. “Egypt is not a private playground where you may indulge every whim. You know this. I have loved you since you first came to visit me on my estate in Hut-herib. Your aides and ministers do your bidding because you are Horus, and their respect will be slowly coupled with love if you show them that you intend to rule with wisdom and compassion. I believe that this is indeed your wish. What is distressing you so greatly? Your Mother and I can help you.”

Amunhotep’s head went down. With an uncharacteristic clumsiness he fumbled for the arm of the throne, stepped in front of Huy, and lowered himself onto the seat, gripping his naked thighs. At once Mutemwia moved to kneel in front of him. Huy bent beside her.

“Forgive me, Majesty Mother, Uncle Huy,” he said unsteadily. “I’m not really angry. I’m afraid, and my fear has found a ready target in Nakht-sobek. Maani-nekhtef brought me a scroll early this morning. My blood-uncle Amunhotep arrives in Mennofer tomorrow.” His hands rose in a gesture of uncertainty. “I was a baby when he went into exile because my father and grandfather plotted to disenfranchise him, perhaps even murder him if he had remained in Egypt, so that my father could take his place as the Horus-in-the-Nest. Now he returns. His claim to the Horus Throne is indisputable and I am still only twelve, a fledgling with my Mother as my Regent for the next four years. I am very vulnerable.” The face he turned to Huy was still pale, but the frenzy had left his eyes. “What must I do? Have him murdered and incur the wrath of Ma’at, not to mention every other god? Send him back into exile? Relinquish the Horus Throne to him and become Prince Amunhotep again? Such a move would surely reverse our positions. He would fear a bid to regain power on my part, plot to exile me, even kill me …”

“You have reasoned well, but your conclusions inhabit the realm of fantasy, Majesty,” Huy said. “This matter should have been discussed, at least with your Mother, as soon as I was permitted to invite the Prince’s return. She would have reassured you.”

Mutemwia settled herself on the step beside the throne. “Your blood-uncle was my best friend and confidant when you were still a baby, Amunhotep. He was, I believe he still is, a devout servant of Ma’at. Tomorrow we will welcome him home with a great feast, and see him settled in his old apartments with his steward Pa-shed. After a few days we will discuss his future with him.” She tapped her son’s sandalled foot. “I have already prepared to place spies among his new servants and among Dowager Chief Wife Neferatiri’s entourage. Huy is ready to See for him if you order it. But wait, Amunhotep. You may yet discover an affection for him.”

Amunhotep sighed. “I don’t think I’ll feel entirely secure until my position as the One is sanctioned on my majority,” he said gloomily. “Meanwhile I dare say that both of you will tell me to concentrate on my education. Still”—he looked up at Huy—“I do want you to speak with Nakht-sobek and Kha, and find out when I may begin building in Egypt. Having taken note of your criticism, I shall humbly order a meeting with the Treasurer myself and explore the extent of my wealth.”

Huy smiled. “A wise decision, Majesty. In the meantime I see Minhotep and Ptahemhet loitering by the doors. Go and enjoy your friends.”

Amunhotep slid off the throne. “I must have my clothes changed first.” With a kiss for his mother and a nod to Huy, he strode away.

“His confidence is renewed,” Mutemwia observed. “As for our own, only time will tell.” She turned a resolute face to Huy. “Nothing must endanger his destiny. I shall want you to See for him again soon, Huy. It has been years since you held him in your arms amid a magical storm of gold dust.”

Huy watched her glide to where her attendants waited for her.
I suppose I must make my way to the Treasurer’s office. He and Kha will be waiting, and later I am to meet the noble Yey. I wish a scribe was trotting behind me
. Calling for a servant to show him the way, he left the lesser audience chamber and plunged into the maze of corridors leading to the offices of the King’s hard-working ministers. He was hungry for more poppy already.

Both men rose as Huy entered, but only Kha bowed. Huy noted quickly that the Chief Architect’s palms were not hennaed. He was an older man, the muscles of his arms ropy, the loose skin of his belly folding over his belt. His head was shaved, but the faint shadow of stubble on his scalp was grey. Deep wrinkles scored a weatherbeaten face dominated by two startlingly blue, clear eyes that squinted sharply at Huy as he returned the gesture. Kha’s kilt was white and plain. He was bare of jewellery but for a simple gold protecting Eye of Horus resting on his chest. Three clay cups stood beside a flagon of beer on a small folding table to one side. The surface of the Treasurer’s desk was invisible under piles of scrolls, each neatly tied together with flax twine. A scribe was already sitting cross-legged on the yellow floor matting, his palette ready.

“Great Seer, this is Egypt’s Chief Architect Kha,” Nakht-sobek began. “We are here to meet with you at the King’s request.” His brief smile was polite and noncommittal. “I believe that His Majesty has already acquainted you with his desire in the matter of building projects. Would you like beer?”

Huy nodded. While Nakht-sobek poured for the three of them, Huy greeted Kha. “Do you have family here in Mennofer?” he inquired.

Kha shook his head. “My wife and two daughters remain on my estate outside Weset. That’s where I was raised, and where I was educated in the temple of Khons at Ipet-isut.”

Nakht-sobek was waving them onto two chairs that had obviously been temporarily provided, making the quarters seem uncomfortably cramped. He himself settled behind the desk. Kha regained his seat with a sigh of obvious relief and reached for his beer. Huy sat close to the end of the desk. Beside him the scribe had finished burnishing his roll of papyrus and was whispering and sprinkling a little water on the floor by his knee.

“That was not the customary prayer to Thoth,” Huy said to the man. “What were you doing?”

The scribe glanced up, startled. “Before I beseech Thoth for his aid in transcribing what passes, I cast forth a smattering of water in memory of the mighty Imhotep, god and magician and the greatest scribe of us all,” he answered. “It is a common custom here in Mennofer, Great Seer.”

Imhotep
. The name echoed in Huy’s mind with an unwelcome familiarity. “Why here in Mennofer?” he asked.

The scribe had opened his mouth to answer when Nakht-sobek loudly cleared his throat. “Your pardon, Seer Amunhotep, but we must proceed to the business in hand,” he said firmly.

Huy experienced a moment of confusion as he picked up his beer. Then he remembered the King’s decree that he must be addressed as Amunhotep. He returned his attention to the Treasurer. “Very well,” he agreed, aware of Nakht-sobek’s continued wariness. “I might as well be honest with you, Nakht-sobek. His Majesty expects me to try and sway your judgment in the matter of his demand that the Treasury provide gold for his building projects. However, he has not shared his plans with me. You have his list of needs.”

“So have I.” Kha opened the drawstring pouch anchored to his belt and withdrew a scroll. “His projects are ambitious and will add to the glory of Egypt.”

Unerringly, Nakht-sobek lifted another from the wealth of papyrus on his desk. “I agree. However, they will be expensive,” he said tartly. “The Treasury is healthy. The King’s father, the Osiris-one Thothmes the Fourth of that illustrious name, did not live long enough to do much beautifying. But our present Incarnation is still young. If he intends to embark upon a lifetime of building, he will have to find ways of replenishing the Treasury. As for this year, we are nearing the end of the month of Mekhir. The crops everywhere are in full growth. My assessors report the prospect of a good harvest and there is no major disease among the domestic animals. The taxes will be high.” He glanced coolly at Huy. “Therefore I wish to reserve my decision on His Majesty’s request until the next Inundation.”

You want to keep an upper hand
, Huy thought, meeting the man’s gaze.
You resent the fact that I stand between you and the Horus Throne. How many other administrators are similarly offended? Will my time be wasted in running about and smoothing down ruffled feathers?

“I want to see the list.” He held out a hand across the desk. “I can advise neither the King nor you if I am in ignorance.” Nakht-sobek’s hesitation bordered on rudeness before he passed the scroll over. Huy unrolled it. “His Majesty is well informed,” he said presently with an inward glow of pride. Many of Amunhotep’s lessons in architecture and masonry had been taught by Huy himself in his own pleasant office at Hut-herib, while his royal charge squirmed on his stool and appeared to listen with only half an ear. “He wants to hire workmen and overseers to open a new quarry at Berseh for calcite, and repair and reopen those at Tura, just south of Iunu, for white limestone. He needs the stone for additions to Amun’s temple at Ipet-isut. He wants to make a new barque for the god, raise and finish an obelisk that his grandfather the Osiris-one Amunhotep the Second apparently left lying in the granite quarries at Assuan—”

“He speaks of gold, lapis, malachite,” Nakht-sobek broke in. “He does not understand the extent of the Treasury’s holdings. They are vast, but …”

Huy tossed the scroll back on the desk. “His Majesty has agreed to meet with you so that he may learn exactly how rich he is,” he said crisply. “I have asked him to do this before there is any more talk of opening the Treasury. I’m neither stupid nor craven, Nakht-sobek. Both the King and his mother know that I have not been summoned to court to place a seal of compliance on every royal desire. No decision is required until you and he have spoken.” He turned to Kha. “Are these ventures laudable and feasible?”

“Yes, indeed.” Kha tapped his scroll against his thigh. “Depending on the details of the designs, of course.”

Huy got up. He had not drunk his beer. “Then we may delay any further discussion for the present.” He bowed to the Treasurer. “Are you reassured, noble one?”

He received the ghost of a smile in return. Nakht-sobek also rose. “Completely, Great Seer. I look forward to consulting with you again in the future.”

It was a capitulation that Huy accepted with good grace. Taking his leave, he went out into the passage that ran the length of the administrative offices and began the long walk to his own quarters. Before long Kha caught up with him.

“His Majesty has already warned me that he intends to arrive at my office one day soon to lay out the details and dimensions of his plans,” he told Huy, coming abreast and falling into step with him. “From what he has already said, he understands the rudiments of an architect’s task and can speak quite knowledgeably regarding the qualities and weaknesses of various kinds of building materials. He has you to thank for such knowledge, does he not?”

“In some part, yes.”

“Then I trust you will be included in the work. I find it very exciting. His father cared little for any such major endeavours.”

“How is it that you came to study architecture?” Huy wanted to know.

Kha laughed. “I appreciate your tact, Great Seer. You have already noted my common status. My ancestors belonged to a desert tribe inhabiting the wastes of Tjehenu to the west of the Delta. That’s where my blue eyes come from. My grandfather began a trade in desert glass with the Governor of Weset’s sepat during the reign of Osiris Thothmes the Third of that name. He was ambitious and enterprising. He earned enough to build a small house within the city of Weset itself, and opened a beer house in the room fronting our street. My father sent me to school. I have prospered, for a peasant. My daughters have made good marriages in Weset and my two younger sons have followed me into architecture. They are both with me here, where we live in a palace apartment. Would you be willing to come and share a meal with us sometime?” Huy found his liking growing for this unpretentious man.

“I’d be honoured, Kha. Thank you.” They had come to a halt where the passage branched. “In the meantime, we must be about our duties.” They took an easy farewell of one another, Kha to disappear to somewhere in the bowels of the labyrinthine complex and Huy to return to his own quarters.

Amunmose met him as he walked in. “I’ve hired an under steward named Paroi, Master,” he announced, “and I’ve been talking to Nubti about more staff. Now that you’re back, I’ll go and fetch your noon meal. The King has sent a message for you. You are to have your litter-bearers ready to take you to the house of God’s Father Yey after the sleep. His Majesty will meet you on the main concourse of the palace.”

He left. Tetiankh appeared with hot scented water to remove Huy’s sandals and wash his hands and feet. The apartment was unusually quiet. Someone had left the door to the gardens open and unguarded, but for once Huy did not care. He sat still while his body servant tended him, his eyes on the shaft of white sunlight pouring onto the tiled floor of the reception room, aware that its brilliance made him feel all at once thin and insubstantial.

When Amunmose returned, Huy ate the food quickly, dismissing the thought that if he took his midday dose of poppy on an empty stomach its effect would be greater than if the drug were mingled with grilled fish and broad beans with garlic. He would need to be alert when meeting Yey, Master of the King’s Horse, Prophet and Overseer of the god Min of Ipu, and—as if those responsibilities were not enough—also Chief Rekhit. Stripping to his loincloth, Huy lay on his couch, lulled by the scent of the lily perfume Tetiankh had continued to spread about the room, but in spite of the usual vial of opium he could not sleep.

Each day brings a test. The Treasurer and Kha this morning, the most powerful noble in Egypt this afternoon, and tomorrow an encounter with an exiled prince. Tonight I must not forget to See for the two men eager to join my household, and surely young Perti will have reached a decision by then and will send me word. There has been no letter from Anhur and Thothhotep, far away in Nekheb, nor a report from Merenra on the state of my holdings at Hut-herib. The poppy fields south of Weset will have been sown anew three months ago. Amunnefer has sent me no word on the health of our latest crop. I desperately need a scribe!
His belly churned, and although he was able to drowse intermittently, he still felt tired and jaded when Tetiankh came to rouse and dress him.