Tutankhamun: The Book of Shadows (30 page)

The palace officials were running up and down the corridors in great confusion like ants in a colony that has been disturbed by children poking sticks. I entered the Queen's chamber, and found her in intent conference with Ay, Khay and Simut.

Ay glanced at me briefly. His face was hollow with tiredness. For once he looked discomposed.

Simut was giving an account of the aftermath of the eclipse.

‘There has been significant disorder in the city. Crowds that gathered in front of the temple gates are refusing to disperse. There has been looting, buildings have been set on fire…and I must report the Medjay have only worsened the situation by their attempts to control the crowds. There have been running battles in some quarters with certain dissident elements…'

Khay interrupted.

‘The people are calling for the King. They refuse to leave until the King appears and speaks to them.'

Ay sat very still, his brain whirring, seeking a solution. His refusal to announce the death of the King had now trapped him. He was caught out by his own lie.

‘That is only one of our problems. Horemheb will seize this opportunity to bring his divisions into the city to control the unrest,' said Simut.

‘And where are those divisions?' snapped Ay.

‘As far as we can tell, they are in Memphis. But our intelligence is not clear,' he admitted. ‘Even the fastest messenger cannot relay orders between here and Memphis in less than three days, and then they will need to mobilize, and sail south. Unless Horemheb has foreseen everything, and prepared divisions to march on Thebes more quickly.'

There was a moment of silence, while each person considered what ought to be done with the precious time that remained to us.

‘I will speak to the people,' said Ankhesenamun, suddenly.

‘And what could you possibly say?' Ay replied. His sinister eyes flickered, curious now.

‘I will tell them the truth. I will say the events in the heavens are a sign of a renewed order on earth. I will explain that the King was united with the God during the darkness, and is now reborn in the Otherworld. I remain here, as his successor, with his sanction. If I do that, then Horemheb's bid for power will be annulled.'

They gazed at each other, adversaries joined by mutual necessity.

‘You are a clever child. It is a good story. But many will be suspicious of it.'

‘The darkness was a great and rare event. It is a spectacle without parallel, and people need to understand it. My words will have to persuade the people.'

Ay quickly thought through the ramifications and possibilities of her proposal.

‘I will support you, but words are powers and must be chosen carefully. When you speak of yourself, I would prefer “representative” to “successor.”'

She considered this.

‘We return to our original disagreement once again. There is little time, and I see no other solution. Why should I not name myself as successor? For that is what I am.'

‘You carry the blood of your family. But remember this: you cannot enact your power without authority over the offices of the government. And I alone exert that authority.'

‘In my name,' she replied quickly.

‘Indeed. And that is why we must fashion a strategy to our mutual advantage.'

She considered the situation. She had to make a swift choice.

‘Very well.'

‘And the content of the speech will be agreed between us?' he said. She glanced at Khay, who nodded.

‘Of course.'

‘Then prepare yourself well, for this appearance is the most important one of your life.'

 

As soon as Ay had left, she jumped up.

‘Where have you been?' she said fretfully, and with a touch of anger. ‘I was concerned for your safety.'

‘I went to visit my friend Nakht in the city. And on the way back I was offered an invitation I could not refuse to an audience with Horemheb.'

She looked astonished.

‘And you went?'

‘I had little choice. They took me captive.'

‘And what did he say to you?'

We sat down together, and I recounted everything I had discovered about Sobek, and that I had now proved, through the witness of the boy, that he was also responsible for the killings in the city. Finally I described to her everything Horemheb had said to me. She looked astounded for a moment.

‘We must protect your family from his attentions.'

‘Yes, but we must also think. So far, he has only made threats against
them, and he will not carry them out until you have informed him of your decision. So we must keep him in uncertainty for as long as possible. At the same time, I have a plan to catch Sobek. And we can then interrogate him and discover if and how Horemheb or Ay are connected to his actions. And that information will give you great power.'

She nodded, her eyes on fire with the exhilaration of the moment. Suddenly she could see a way forward for herself and her dynasty.

‘This darkness has shocked me. I feel the Gods' eyes upon me. I feel they can see inside me. Everything is at stake, not just the future of my dynasty, but also the fate of the Two Lands. But strangely, I find I feel, for the first time in many months–entirely alive.'

 

Smoke drifted across the great open space before the Temple. The crowd stretched back along the Avenue of Sphinxes. Some were chanting, others shouting, most praying. I watched from the vantage of the pylon gateway roof. We had travelled swiftly and secretively by ship and then chariot to the temple itself, under the protection of Simut's guard. Now, at his signal, the trumpeters raised their long, silver instruments towards the horizon and blasted out a fanfare. Suddenly the attitude of the crowd shifted, from chaotic discontent to attention. The spectacle they had demanded was about to begin.

The Queen appeared from the gateway, arrayed in the gold robes of state and the crowns, and the silence gave way again to screaming and shouting when it became clear she was alone. But in the long, low angles of the late light, she glowed. She continued forward, ascended the dais, ignoring the cries and laments, and then stood to confront the great beast of the multitude. She waited to be heard. It would be a battle of wills. Finally silence fell. I saw thousands of faces, rapt, anxious, devoted to her glorious presence.

‘This has been a day of wondrous omens,' she called out. ‘The Gods have revealed themselves to us. So let us worship them.'

She raised her arms, serenely; and then, slowly, many in the crowd followed suit. Those that did not were at least silenced.

‘Ra, the King of the Gods, has triumphed over the forces of darkness
and chaos. Life is renewed. The glory and power of the Two Lands is renewed. But in that moment, he has taken something he greatly desired. What he has taken is of great value to us. Greater than gold, and greater than life. I stand before you now, as the daughter of Kings, and the daughter of the Goddess Maat who brings justice and order, to give you the news of our great sacrifice, and the God's great gain. For in the moment of darkness, witnessed by all living things, the King Tutankhamun was united with Ra, as the King must be, and, as it is written in the great books, he is now one with the King of the Gods. And the world is remade. The world is reborn again.'

Her words echoed around the open space. A vast wail of lamentation rose up and spread out through the crowds and the city. I saw people turning to each other, many persuaded, a few shrugging, uncertain. They knew this story of the sacrifice of the King for the renewal of life, for it is one of the oldest of the stories that explain to us how things are in the world. And she had used it wisely. Her words might well convince the multitudes. The elite would certainly require a more sophisticated explanation, but it would be difficult for them to question the story.

She pressed on.

‘I stand before you now. I am the best-loved daughter of Ra. I am
maat
. I am order over chaos. I am the Eye of Ra at the prow of the Ship of the Gods. Under me, our enemies will perish in the darkness, and our world will flourish in the light of the Gods.'

This was followed by another persuasive fanfare from the trumpets; and now, most of the multitude roared their approval. The Queen's spirit and her beauty seemed to have won them over. But I saw there were others who turned away, unsatisfied, shaking their heads. The battle to win the Two Lands after the death of Tutankhamun remained to be won. If I could prove a connection between Horemheb and Sobek then Horemheb's position would crumble. If I did not, then I could not see, at this moment, what could prevent him from appropriating, in the name of the army, the kingship.

That evening, Thoth and I returned to Nakht's town house. Minmose offered to shave my head, for if I was to pass through the temple gateway, I needed once again to transform myself into the appearance of a priest. As I was sitting under his blade, with a cloth around my neck, Khety arrived. Luckily for him, he would not need to perform these ritual ablutions, for he was to attend as Nakht's experimental victim–a non-elite character.

‘Is the guard in place at my home?' I asked first.

He nodded. ‘Tanefert was not happy about the imposition. But I explained the necessity as well as I could, without frightening her.'

I sighed with relief.

‘And did you impress upon her to make sure the children do not go out, in any event?'

‘I did. Don't worry. They are safe. They will be guarded night and day.' Then he allowed himself a quiet chuckle. ‘You make an unconvincing priest,' he said.

‘Be careful, Khety. You will soon find yourself in a much more compromised position.'

He nodded.

‘That's what I enjoy about my work. Every night is different. One night patrolling the streets; the next, taking dangerous hallucinogens…'

‘Nakht has concocted something that will look plausibly like the fungus, but will have no effect at all.'

‘So I have to pretend?' he asked.

‘Yes,' said Nakht, as he entered in his robes. ‘I have made up a simulacra of the dried fungus using ground beans.'

‘I hate beans,' replied Khety. ‘My wife cooks them, but they have a horrible effect on me…'

‘You will not need to consume more than a mouthful, and so the noxious effects should be absolutely minimal,' Nakht replied. And then added: ‘Which is surely a relief for all of us.'

‘But what sort of thing should I talk about when I've taken the powder?' asked Khety.

‘Nothing to start with. And then, slowly, imagine that the light of heaven is revealed to you. Let your mind accept the illumination of the Gods.'

‘And what does that look like?' asked Khety.

Nakht glanced at me, dubiously.

‘Think of light. Describe the beauty of the light, and how you see the Gods moving in light, as if light were thought and thought were light.'

‘I'll try,' said Khety, hesitantly.

 

Nakht had ordered chariots to carry us from his house, up the long Avenue of Sphinxes, to the Great Temple of Karnak. The streets were dark. I noticed boarded-up shop fronts, and some blackened interiors–the damage done during the riots. But the city seemed quiet again. We arrived at the gates, and Nakht spoke to the temple guards, who assessed Khety and me by the light of their lamps. Nakht's fame here was
great, and I prayed that they would ask few questions. He chatted cheerfully to them for a moment, and then, with a last questioning look, we were swiftly waved through. We passed under the gateway and once more into the vast shadowy arena within the temple walls. Beyond the great raised hammered bowls of oil that had been lit throughout the Enclosure, like a constellation of small suns, everything disappeared into an obscure penumbra.

Nakht lit his oil lamp, and we set off across the open ground in the direction of the House of Life. But instead of entering there, he led us further to the right of the building. We followed down several dark passageways between separate buildings–workshops and offices, all deserted for the night. The passageways narrowed and the buildings gave way to storage rooms and magazines, until we reached the high back wall of the Great Enclosure itself. Just there stood a tiny, ancient structure. As we approached I saw the figure of Osiris, God of the Dead, was carved everywhere on its walls, in his white crown flanked by two plumed feathers, surrounded by column after column of dense inscriptions.

‘This chapel is dedicated to Osiris,' whispered Khety.

‘Precisely. The God of the Otherworld, of night, and darkness, and death before life…but of course he is in truth the God of the light beyond the light, as we say. Of illumination and secret knowledge,' Nakht replied. Khety nodded, as if he understood, then raised his eyebrows at me.

We passed through the outer chamber, and into the small, dark inner chamber of the temple. Quickly Nakht lit oil lamps in niches around the walls. Rich drifts of incense floated on the shadowy air. He installed me behind one of the pillars, near the entrance, from where I could observe everything that came to pass, and anyone who approached. Then we settled down to wait. And eventually, one by one, twelve other men in white robes arrived. I recognized some of them from the party at Nakht's house. There was the blue-eyed poet, and the architect. Each man wore a gold pendant on a gold chain around his neck. On each one was an obsidian circle: the dark disc. They greeted
Nakht with great excitement, and then examined Khety like a servant for sale. Finally, only Sobek had failed to appear. I felt my plan crumbling away between my fingers. He had not, after all, taken the bait.

Nakht played for time:

‘One of our number is missing,' he said eventually, loudly enough so that I could hear. ‘We should wait for Sobek.'

‘I disagree, time is passing, and so we should begin the ceremony without him. Why should the God wait for Sobek?' called out one of the men, followed by a chorus of agreement. Nakht had no choice but to begin. From my vantage behind the pillar, I watched as Khety's eyes were bound with a black cloth, so that he could not witness anything. Then a small chest was carried in, and from within that a gold coffer was brought forth. This was opened to reveal a human-shaped pottery dish, and within that was something that looked like a wheat loaf or cake, baked in the rough shape of a human being.

Nakht intoned a hymn over the cake: ‘
Homage to thee, Osiris, the lord of eternity, the King of the Gods, thou who hast many names, whose forms of coming forth are holy, whose attributes are hidden
…' and so it went on. Finally, the incantation finished, the cake was raised up and then divided into fourteen parts, and each man ritually ate one of the pieces. I suppose these were the fourteen parts into which Seth, the jealous brother, cut up Osiris's body after he had murdered him. Now, ritually, the God was reborn in each man. One piece of the cake was left over for Sobek.

The mystery accomplished–and I must confess I was disappointed that it seemed merely to be a symbolic meal–the twelve men gathered around Nakht for the evening's experiment. He drew forth from his robe a leather pouch, and then spoke at length, partly playing for time, reiterating what he knew of the powers and nature of this food of the Gods, and his hope that it could offer visions of the Gods. Still there was no sign of Sobek.

Finally, realizing that there was no more time left, Nakht opened the pouch, and, on a cosmetic spoon, produced a sample of the powder. The initiates observed it minutely, fascinated by its legendary
potency. By now the blindfolded Khety must have been quite concerned, for the moment was approaching for the experiment. But Nakht suddenly said: ‘Let us not waste this marvel on a servant. I myself will eat the food of the Gods.'

The men all nodded enthusiastically. I could imagine Khety's relief. Nakht must have decided Khety's acting skills were not going to be adequate, and perhaps, too, he thought he could take up more time with his own performance, just in case Sobek finally appeared.

‘You will be able to describe to us your visions in intellectual detail, which the servant could not,' said the blue-eyed poet, condescendingly.

‘And we shall be here to record anything you may speak of when you are possessed of the vision.'

‘You may become a living oracle,' said another, excitedly.

 

With a great performance of ritual, Nakht mixed a spoonful of the powder into a cup of fresh water, and then drank it in slow, careful sips. The chamber was utterly silent, each man gazing with rapt anticipation at Nakht's serious face. At first nothing happened. He smiled and shrugged slightly, as if in disappointment. But then, a look of seriousness stole over his face, and became one of intense concentration. Had I not known he was performing, I would almost have been persuaded of the authenticity of the vision myself. Slowly he raised his hands, palms up, and his eyes followed. He seemed now to be caught in a trance, his eyes wide open and unblinking, staring at an airy mirage of something that was not there.

And then what had been an act became real. Between the small, steady lights of the oil lamps, and the greater penumbra of the chamber, a shadow entered. The figure that cast the shadow was all darkness; small, like an animal almost, its shape and features hidden in the wrapped folds of the black cloak that covered it from head to toe. I felt fear like a cloak of ice descend upon me. I drew my knife from its sheath, and grasped the figure from behind and held the blade to its throat.

‘Take three steps forward.'

The figure shuffled ahead like an animal in the market place into the light of the lamps. The faces of the initiates stared incredulously at these unexpected and unacceptable intrusions.

‘Turn around,' I ordered.

It did so.

‘Remove your hood.'

It did so, slowly slipping the cloth from its head.

 

The girl was not much older than my own daughter Sekhmet. I had never seen her before. She looked like a girl one would pass on the street, and not notice. She sat on the low bench, a cup of water clenched between her fists, shivering and panting. Nakht carefully placed a linen shawl around her shoulders, and went away, to leave us some privacy, and to try to calm the hubbub of protestation that now rose from his fellow society members.

I lifted her chin, and gently tried to persuade her to look at me.

‘What has happened? Who are you?'

Tears squeezed out from her eyes.

‘Rahotep!' she managed to say before the intense chattering of her teeth overwhelmed her again.

‘I am Rahotep. Why are you here? Who sent you?'

‘I do not know his name. He said to say: “
I am the demon who dispatches messengers to lure the living into the realm of the dead
.”'

She stared at us. Khety and I glanced at each other.

‘How did he find you?'

‘He stole me from the street. He says he will kill my family if I do not deliver a message to Rahotep.'

Her eyes filled with tears, and her face contorted again.

‘And what is the message?'

She could barely enunciate the words.

‘You must come to the catacombs. Alone…'

‘Why?'

‘You have something he wants. And he has something you want,' she replied.

‘What does he have that I want?' I asked, slowly.

Now she could not look me in the eye. Great convulsions shook her.

‘Your son,' she whispered.