‘The future may well take care of itself.’ Pentju smiled at me and winked.
At the time I thought he was being cynical. Yet, on reflection, Pentju’s words contained the first powerful seeds of Akhenaten’s downfall and destruction.
When I returned to the City of Aten, Djarka and I became busy, going through the police archives in the House of Secrets: these were all contained in sealed jars, arranged according to regnal years. None of the scribes were to be told what we were searching for or the reason for it.
At first it was difficult. I found traces of the Sekhmets during the fourth and fifth years of Akhenaten’s reign when he was Co-regent and still in the Palace of the Aten at Thebes. These references were usually based on police accounts or the information supplied by spies. The Sekhmets were only known by the amulet they left near their victims: these were often quite powerful men – merchants, army officers and, on one occasion, even a chapel priest in the Temple of Horus. According to the evidence, the victims always had enemies but, because professional assassins were used, it was virtually impossible to link the responsibility for the victim’s death to anyone. One police officer investigated the murder of a merchant in the Street of Coppersmiths in eastern Thebes and wrote: ‘Many wanted him dead but, at the time of his murder, all could account for where they were and what they were doing.’
The Sekhmets employed a variety of methods in their assassinations. One victim died whilst on a hunting trip along the Nile. He and his servant were found drifting in their boat. Both had been killed by arrows, shot at close range, the Sekhmet’s amulet casually tossed into the punt, nestling amongst the feathers of some of the birds. I recalled Djarka rescuing me from the jackals. How easy it had been to approach the boat and loose one shaft after another. Other victims died by poisoning. Another missed his footing and fell from a building he was inspecting. In one audacious murder a wealthy stall-holder from the Perfume Quarters of Thebes had gone back into his shop to collect something from his stores. When the customer became impatient and went searching, he found the stall-holder lying among bales of cloth, his throat cut from ear to ear, the Sekhmet amulet clutched in his hand. I made Djarka search more carefully and realised that, between the fifth and tenth year of Akhenaten’s reign, at least according to my records, the Sekhmets had either deliberately gone quiet or moved elsewhere. I continued my own research and was astonished to discover that the Sekhmets were equally busy ten years previously.
‘Fifteen years in all!’ I exclaimed as we sat sharing a bowl of wine in my office. ‘These assassins have been busy for fifteen years! A gap of ten years occurred and then they began again, just before Akhenaten resumed the Co-regency. Why?’
Djarka shook his head. ‘How do we know that they are the same people?’ he mused. ‘Anyone can take the name Sekhmet and buy a bag of cheap amulets.’
‘No, no, no,’ I objected. ‘These are people who seem to be able to move around the city of Thebes. They are very similar to the jackals. They are a family concern. Could they be merchants? A family which moves up and down the Nile?’
‘But someone must be able to contact them?’ Djarka pointed out. ‘Messages have to be left, the victims’ names, the price paid and collected.’
I leaned forward and scratched Karnak lying sleeping at my feet.
‘Somebody,’ I said.
‘Somebody,’ Djarka continued, ‘must be able to act as the middleman.’
Djarka had posed a problem I could not solve.
I sent out messengers to Memphis, Thebes and Abydos. I asked the same question of the police in each city, those who acted as the ‘Ears and Eyes’ of Pharaoh. The response came swiftly. The Sekhmets had been responsible for murders in each of their cities but the different authorities were baffled as to who those assassins could be or how they were approached. None could offer even the slightest clue to their identity or present whereabouts. I became fascinated with the problem. So much so that Akhenaten became interested too, and I received a summons to attend the Royal Circle.
This time the meeting was presided over by Akhenaten himself, Nefertiti sitting alongside. The Pharaoh had returned to his usual good humour; his face was shaved and oiled, eyes and voice sharp as he moved through different items of business. At last, he turned to me, leaning his elbows on the arms of his thronelike chair, those long fingers pressed together to hide his mouth.
‘Mahu, my friend. I understand you have been very busy. Would you like to inform the Royal Circle why my Chief of Police, Overseer of the House of Secrets, works well past sunset? How the oil lamps have been seen glowing even a few hours before dawn, yet here, at the Great House we have received no warning, no information for such labour?’ He clapped his hands together sharply, making Huy jump. Ay sitting on his left held his silence, fingers also to his face to conceal his own expression.
‘Your Majesty.’ I chose my words carefully, determined not to lie. ‘Your Majesty, I have received information that a guild, a group of assassins who call themselves the Sekhmets, have been despatched into the City of the Aten.’
I ignored the gasps and cries of the other members of the Royal Circle.
‘Why were we not informed of this?’ Nefertiti’s voice cut across the babble. ‘Who are these people? Why have they not been arrested? How were they allowed to enter the sacred city?’
‘Your Majesty.’ I spread my hands. ‘I received this information from my own spies in Thebes. It may be nonsense, empty gossip, idle chatter. Anyone can enter the City of the Aten provided they can prove to be of good standing with business here. The Divine One has proclaimed throughout Egypt that any worshipper of the Aten is most welcome. These Sekhmets have never been caught. We do not possess one clue about their identity. For all I know they could be sitting in this chamber, as a servant out in the corridor or one of the soldiers, even members of your own court.’
‘And even if they are here,’ Huy spoke up in an attempt to assist me, ‘we do not know their true business. They may be here to settle a private grudge or grievance.’ He paused and closed his eyes as he realised his mistake.
‘In other words,’ Ay took his hands from his mouth, ‘what you are saying, my Lord Huy, is that we have assassins in the City of Aten but they may not really pose a threat to the Divine One or his family. But if you say that,’ he continued silkily, ‘you do concede the possibility that these murderers are here as part of some heinous plot to strike at the heart of Egypt.’
Akhenaten’s hand moved to cover Nefertiti’s. For a short while fear flared in his eyes, a fleeting expression which disappeared as he gave vent to his rage. At first he just sat banging his right fist up and down on the arm of his chair. Eventually, he sat back and, with his sandalled foot, kicked away the table before him, sending manuscripts, inkpots, and writing-pads scattering over the gleaming floor. He was not staring at any of us but sat eyes glazed, lips moving as if he was talking to someone we could not see or hear. Nefertiti tried to soothe him but he pulled his hand away. Ay whispered in his ear but Akhenaten made a cutting movement with his hand and sprang to his feet. Immediately we all had to make obeisance, pushing back our cushions, going down to press our foreheads against the cold floor. When I glanced up, both Akhenaten and Nefertiti had left the chamber. We had no choice but to remain kneeling. Akhenaten was absent for at least two hours, yet no one, not even Ay, dared move: meetings of the Royal Circle were not over until Pharaoh decreed it. A worried-looking messenger arrived bursting through the half-open doors behind the throne and Ay hurried out. Horemheb, groaning loudly, sat back on his heels whilst Rameses, in a show of temper, simply pulled his cushions towards him and made himself as comfortable as possible.
At last chamberlains announced the return of the Divine One who, accompanied by Nefertiti and Ay, swept into the chamber. Akhenaten accepted our obeisance and sat down on the throne. He hardly waited for us to take our positions before taking the flail and rod handed to him by Ay and, crossing his arms, issued a decree which would have an effect throughout Egypt: the complete and utter destruction of the cult of Amun. Statues were to be removed and destroyed. All references to the god, be they on a public monument or a private tomb, were to be summarily removed. Anyone who objected or resisted was to be treated as a traitor and dealt with accordingly. The King’s writ would run from the Great Green to beyond the Third Cataract and even across Sinai to any temple, chapel or tomb which carried a prayer, an inscription or a carving to Amun the Silent One of Thebes. We sat in shocked silence listening as Akhenaten’s voice carried through the chamber. When he had finished Akhenaten pointed the flail at Horemheb and Rameses. ‘You are responsible for the implementation of this decree and it is immediate! Mahu, you are to search out the Sekhmets. You are to arrest them. You are to destroy them and anyone connected with them. This is Pharaoh’s speech, this is Pharaoh’s will and our will shall be done!’
Horemheb and Rameses might curse and complain in private but Akhenaten’s decree was written out by scribes and despatched to every village and city throughout the Empire. Horemheb and Rameses were given explicit instructions to move into Thebes and carry out his orders, even if it meant the removal of inscriptions in the Royal Necropolis where the Magnificent One lay buried. Of course, Queen Tiye, Ay and others tried to advise caution and prudence but Akhenaten and Nefertiti were united on this. They believed the Sekhmets had been hired by the priests of Amun so they were determined to cut out that cult, branch and root. Within a year, Akhenaten boasted, Amun would be no more!
Horemheb and Rameses met with little resistance. Their troops, not to mention the mercenaries, were paid directly out of the Royal Treasury. Akhenaten had shown great cunning. He had not struck at the other gods such as Osiris at Abydos or Ptah at Memphis but only Amun of Thebes. The other priests and temples bemoaned such attacks but they were secretly pleased to see the supremacy of the Theban god shattered once and for all, his temples dishonoured, his priesthood scattered. Of course there were riots and disturbances, particularly in Karnak and Luxor, but Horemheb’s Syrian archers and Kushite mercenaries brutally repressed them.
My concerns were the Sekhmets. I quietly passed instructions for all entrances to the palace to be closely guarded. Food and wine served to the Divine One was always to be tasted. Day and night I continued my hunt. One thing I did discover. The Sekhmets had left a trail of destruction in the cities along the Nile except for one place, Akhmin, the home of Nefertiti and Ay and the rest of their tribe. Why was this? Did they come from that city? Were they members of the Akhmin gang? But who? Ay and Nefertiti’s fortunes, not to mention those of the Queen Mother Tiye, were closely bound up with Akhenaten and his great religious vision. Of course, as I reasoned to Djarka, I may have got it wrong. Other cities could report nothing about the Sekhmets. I found it strange, perhaps a mere coincidence, that Akhmin was one of these. I went through police report after police report. A dim picture of the Sekhmets emerged, though sometimes it was more distinct than others.
‘It would seem,’ I confided to Djarka, ‘that the Sekhmets are respectable and wealthy. They move up and down the River Nile with impunity. There may be two of them, possibly man and wife, that’s all I have learned.’
I returned to my searches and in doing so stumbled across something else. I became interested in a family who had moved into the Street of Scribes; they constantly petitioned the Great Writing House for employment at the palace. The group consisted of a man, his wife and their three grown sons. I had the house watched and managed to bribe one of the servants. He eventually told us a different story. The sons in question did not belong to the family but were priest-scribes from the Temple of Amun in Thebes. We raided the house, arrested everyone and went through their documents. Eventually we applied torture, whipping them on their legs and the soles of their feet. One of the younger men broke down and confessed. They had been forced to leave Thebes after the Temple of Amun had been closed and its priestly rank depleted. They had used papyrus and paid forgers to draw up false documents and arrived in the City of Aten eager for employment. Of course I had to submit this report to the Great House. Akhenaten himself, accompanied by Nefertiti and Ay, came down to question the prisoners. In his retinue came Tutu (I’m sure he kept Akhenaten advised of all my doings) and Meryre whose look of smug piety was more offensive than ever.
Akhenaten, fervently supported by Ay, truly believed I had discovered the Sekhmets. Of course, I had found no amulet or any reference to Sekhmet amongst the possessions of these so-called conspirators but Akhenaten refused to listen. The very sight of his enemy, the fact that they had lied, was evidence enough. He brushed aside their protests that they were merely scribe priests of Amun attempting to find fresh work. Ay, too, would not listen to their objections. He regarded the false documents and the small bundle of weapons they had hidden in their house as evidence of their guilt. Akhenaten himself passed sentence. The woman, the wife of the elder priest, was banished to the Red Lands. The four males were taken out into the desert and summarily executed.
Of course I was hailed as the hero of the hour, given fresh Collars of Gold and wine from Akhenaten’s own cellar. My brow was blessed with sacred oil. Akhenaten summoned me formally before the Window of Appearances where Nefertiti showered me with scented rose petals. I did my best to reason with Ay.