Authors: Pauline Gedge
“It would have taken a full division of all five thousand men to maintain control of this multitude,” Tetiankh replied. “And look, Master! They have been deployed around the city’s water-steps and along the river path right to the gates of the palace compound itself. We have begun tacking to the eastern bank at last.”
Huy glanced up to where the helmsman was forcing the great steering oar to respond to Nebenkempt’s curt directive. Weset’s watersteps drifted past. Huy could see almost nothing of the city itself for the double row of soldiers straining to hold back the eager throngs behind them. However, above their heads a forest of pillars was limned sharply against the blue-white heat of the sky, telling Huy that he was passing Amun’s home, the sacred temple of Ipet-isut itself, and a short while later
Kha-em-Ma’at
came smoothly to rest against another set of steps. Above them on the stone apron, a solemn group of officials obscured the lower portion of the tall wooden gates leading into the palace precincts. Here the sound of the crowd, forced back a good distance, was muted.
Nebenkempt’s sailors sprang to run out the ramp. Guards quickly lined it. The waiting dignitaries bent and then folded onto the ground, the acolytes carefully holding up their censers so that the smouldering grains of frankincense should not fall out of the cups. Huy inhaled its gently wafting smoke with pleasure, watching as Commander-in-Chief Wesersatet bowed himself aside and the King and Tiye, with Mutemwia behind them, stepped onto the ramp. Amunhotep bade the group of bent backs to rise. Ptahhotep, newly appointed High Priest of Amun, signalled to his we’eb priests, and the welcoming and sanctifying blend of bull’s blood and milk made shallow pink puddles on the warm stone.
“You may speak,” Amunhotep told him. Huy did not miss the note of impatience in the King’s voice and neither did his mother. Mutemwia’s fingers spasmed briefly against her thigh. One bead of sweat was trickling down Amunhotep’s temple.
He’s hot and uncomfortable
, Huy thought,
but it doesn’t matter as long as he keeps it to himself. Today he must show no weakness
.
Ptahhotep inclined his shaven head. When he looked up, his heavily kohled eyes were smiling. “Mighty Amun of the Double Plumes welcomes his son and Incarnation to this, his greatest city. All Weset, indeed the whole Uas sepat, is in festivity. Amun eagerly awaits Your Majesty’s presence before him in his sanctuary.”
“Of course. And I am eager to pay him my homage and present him with such gifts as I have brought. Maani-nekhtef!” The Chief Herald approached and bowed, and looking beyond him along the empty river path the soldiers had cleared, Huy saw other boats being tied to the mooring posts. Many other ramps had already been run out. “Order my Treasury Overseer Nakht-sobek to Ipet-isut with the many offerings I have prepared for my father Amun,” the King continued. “He is to wait for me there in the outer court.” Stepping from the ramp onto the dampness of milk and blood, he pulled Tiye’s arm through his and gestured to his litter-bearers. “We will have the curtains closed as we go,” he announced. “The citizens must surely have had their fill of my royal person by now. Ptahhotep, walk beside me. Mother, Uncle Huy, send for Architect Kha and have him ready to guide me on an inspection of the palace. And I shall want much beer.”
“He acquitted himself well,” Mutemwia remarked in a low voice to Huy as Wesersatet and his men surrounded the litter. Huy nodded as it was lifted and the entourage moved off. Now that the sacerdotal ceremony was over, he felt suddenly tired and slightly homesick for his rooms in Mennofer. Perti and Mutemwia’s guards were waiting, and just beyond them two soldiers unfamiliar to Huy were standing one to each side of the massive gate and watching Mutemwia expectantly.
The sentinels of this entrance
, Huy decided.
How many more does the compound have?
He sighed, and surprisingly Mutemwia laughed.
“Occasionally you must actually earn the gold and preferments showered upon you, Great Seer!” she teased him gently. “Seal Bearer Nebmerut is waiting to escort the Horus Throne to its place in the new audience hall, and the royal regalia grows heavy in his arms. Let us begin.”
It was a curious invitation to walk forward, Huy thought, but he understood it perfectly. At the Queen’s word the gates swung slowly apart, and Huy caught his breath.
A short distance beyond them, the entrance was blocked by another huge gate even now being swung open, its two components catching the sun as they moved and throwing out flashes of brief intensity so blinding that Huy was forced to close his eyes. “Electrum!” he breathed. “The Osiris-one King Ahmose must have been richer than we can imagine in order to provide his artisans with such a wealth of silver and gold!”
Mutemwia shook her head. “It was not always so. Have you forgotten your history lessons, Huy? Years went by when he, his brother the Osiris-one King Kamose, and his father, brave Prince Seqenenra, were so poor that the women of their family denuded themselves of all their valuable things so that the war against the occupying forces of the vile Setiu might continue. But in the end Ma’at triumphed, the gold coming north from the mines of Wawat and Kush began to fill the royal coffers instead of increasing Apepa’s treasure, trade was re-established, and the Royal Treasury was ours once more. This gate was the Osiris-one’s first expenditure. Amunhotep’s grandfather had the wooden gates built because the men guarding the old palace became tired of persuading the curious populace using the river path to stop gawking and move on.”
The gate now stood open. Mutemwia glided through and Huy followed.
Apepa. I do remember him from my boyhood lessons. He was the Setiu foreigner from Rethennu whose ancestors usurped the Horus Throne. Both Prince Seqenenra and King Kamose were slain in the war of deliverance they were forced to wage against him, and since then the evil serpent of the Duat has carried his name
.
But Huy’s musings fled as he paced after the Queen. The area between the gates and the pillars of the palace’s main entrance was surprisingly vast, an inviting expanse of well-watered, shaded grass dotted with trees, large ponds on which lily and lotus pads floated, and paths that left the main avenue to disappear beneath the spreading branches of sycamores and the thick but tiny leaves of the tamarisks. Clusters of acacia bushes abounded. There were no blooms, of course; the end of Shemu was only a month away. But Huy could imagine this glorious area bursting into colour—the pink tamarisk flowers, the delicate acacia blossoms, white here in the aridity of Egypt’s south where the bushes cultivated for their gums and medicinal remedies were hardier than those of the Delta with their yellow flowers—and, permeating it all, the sweet, heady flower perfumes rising from the beds. He was pleased to see his lame gardener, Anab, already hobbling out of sight in the company of a man who must be one of the many servants tending these arouras. Huy turned his attention to the palace itself.
The white pillars, the outer walls, the welcome dimness of the entrance hall, were covered in a riot of colourful scenes. Heavy purple grapevines curved sinuously upward. Red-feathered birds fluttered in the green forest of many trees whose trunks descended to meet the cool yellow tiles of the floor. Fruits, breads, and vegetables cascaded from offering tables set within stylized temples above whose pylons the names of the gods were painted in black and enclosed in cartouches. Servant girls in short, transparent linen lifted jugs from which dark wine poured into golden goblets held out by jewelled and kohled diners. Animals seemed to wander from panel to green panel, and fish swam in a bilious blue river. The smell of fresh pigments hovered in the air, and Huy wondered how recently Weset’s artists had finished restoring these glorious depictions of life before hurrying back to their modest homes. Glancing up, he saw that a huge rayed sun filled the centre of the high ceiling.
At the far end of the hall, a square doorway beckoned. Beyond it Mutemwia took a few steps and halted, and Huy moved to stand beside her. To their left a wide dais ran from wall to wall. Doors had been set to right and left behind it, almost invisible in the sweep of solid gold comprising not only the one wall but the other three also. Into each one the likeness of a victorious King Ahmose had been hammered, his sandalled stride reaching the floor, the raised axe in his hand only inches from the ceiling. Around the lintels of the doors into and out of the audience chamber his name and many titles had been incised.
“Amunhotep wanted them left alone.” Mutemwia gestured at them briefly. “He wants every ambassador and visiting dignitary to be reminded of what happens to foreigners who dream of conquering and enslaving us.”
“This place will awe everyone, particularly when the lamps are put in place and lit,” Huy replied as Nebmerut and his perspiring servants went past carrying the shrouded Horus Throne. “The sprinklings of pyrite throughout the dark blue lapis of the floor will glitter constantly. This royal house is more spacious and opulent than the palace at Mennofer. The ministers should be overjoyed to be working here.”
The throne had been lowered reverently onto the centre of the dais and Nebmerut, having set a guard around it, had disappeared through one of the small doors at its rear still carrying the ornate chest holding the Pshent, Crook, and Flail.
“According to Kha, the ones who arrived earlier are already pleased with their offices. He’s waiting for you, Huy. My steward Ameni will escort me to my quarters.” Acknowledging Huy’s bow, she left the room trailed by Tekait and her entourage. It took a long time for them to pass through one of the doorways at the far end.
With a lightened heart Huy saw the King’s Chief Architect striding towards him. Kha was smiling broadly, his blue eyes merry. The hall was gradually filling up with people. Officials, army officers, servants, a few priests, milled about with a sense of aimlessness that Huy knew was temporary. Tomorrow would see a return to the smooth organization of an administration known as the most powerful and efficient in the world.
“Great Seer Huy, I greet you with all respect and affection!” Kha exclaimed as he came up to Huy. “Her Majesty has ordered me to acquaint you with this magnificent place and to make any changes to its design you may desire for your comfort. My sons asked me to convey their greetings to you also. I hardly see them anymore. They are as busy as I. Hori has gone south to Nekheb to see to the completion of Nekhbet’s temple, and Suti spends all his time carrying out the additions to Ipet-isut His Majesty requested.” He gestured widely. “The Throne Room of Senwosret Is Observing the Primeval Hill. When His Majesty returns from Ipet-isut, I must show him his new home, but for now, come with me!”
As they went, Huy began to realize what a monumental task of restoration his friend had accomplished. Having studied architecture himself, he knew how much time each part of the project had required. “It hasn’t been necessary to enlarge any of the rooms,” Kha told him. “As you can see, the ceilings are lofty and the clerestory windows carefully placed to direct only the morning sunlight into these airy spaces. Mainly bricklayers and artists laboured here.” He laid a hand on Huy’s arm and brought him to a halt. “I am giving you so many details because Her Majesty Queen Mutemwia warned me that if you see anything amiss, anything at all, you have her authority to change it through me. Now we come to the royal apartments and your quarters between them.”
The two men wove their way between the laden servants crowding the wide passage and coming and going through two open doors to their right and one imposing admittance directly ahead. Armed guards had already taken up their station there, and as Huy followed Kha through one of the other doors, both Perti and Amunmose hurried to greet them with bows. Huy found himself in a reception hall at least twice as large as the one he had left behind in Mennofer. The vibrant scenes of domestic life on its walls glinted where details had been etched in gold. The floor, or what Huy could see of it beneath the clutter of boxes, chests, and pieces of furniture, was made up of yellow tiles that took on a tinge of blue as they disappeared towards the centre. Facing Huy were open double doors through which he could see a small pond, some grass, and a couple of sycamore trees, all suffused with the strong, blinding light of the south.
“Master, I’ve made an inspection of these rooms and I was about to set a guard before seeing the rest of my men settled into their own new quarters,” Perti said. “It will be easier to keep a watch on you here than in Mennofer. The garden is all your own and is walled, with only a small gate leading into His Majesty’s precinct.” He smiled. “I shall be co-operating with the senior officers of the Division of Amun, and Commander-in-Chief Wesersatet of course. May I proceed?”
“And a good thing too,” Amunmose grumbled as Perti and his soldiers left. “Perti has been poking his nose into every cranny and the servants have been tripping over his men. Tetiankh and Kenofer have set up your couch and are unpacking your personal belongings. Rakhaka has been allowed a portion of the kitchens all to himself. Naturally, he’s found plenty to grumble about.” All at once the steward’s dazzling grin lit up his face. “I sense that there has been much happiness in this palace, Huy. I believe that you also will be happy here.” Bowing again, he turned to where Paroi was urgently gesturing. Paneb and Ba-en-Ra were engaged in a close conversation, sitting out of the way with their backs against the far wall. Huy slipped out into the passage with Kha.
“Come up onto the roof,” Kha said. “From there you can see the whole compound, and much of the city.”
It took them a long time to walk through the palace and out to the rear, where steps clung to the wall. By the time they had climbed over the lip of the roof, Huy’s eyes had adjusted to the unrelenting glare of a sun at its zenith, and he found himself facing an expanse dotted with wind catchers of various sizes that funnelled the prevailing north wind of summer into the rooms below. Some of them sat beside modest doorways with stairs obviously leading down into the second storey. But one of the wind catchers, clearly recently repaired, rose next to a low opening filled with bricks and rubble from lintel to sill. Huy, fully aware of Kha’s abilities, asked him why this doorway remained as it was.