Tutankhamun: The Book of Shadows (25 page)

‘What do you mean?'

‘She was damaged goods, so to speak. She was always a bit strange. Even from her childhood she was troubled, hysterical. So she came cheap. The family were keen to see her put to some use, and the alliance to a rising military star seemed valuable at the time. He was obviously going somewhere. Why not keep the army within the family? And obviously he got a remarkable preferment out of it. The other side of the bargain was that as a member of the family, by the grace of the deal, he would agree to behave; to give her at least the public semblance of a married life, and to harness the army to the strategic business and international interests of the family. After all, under the terms of the deal, that would be in Horemheb's own interests, too.'

‘And is that why Mutnodjmet still remains incarcerated within Malkata Palace? Why don't they send her to her husband?'

‘They must have come to some mutually beneficial arrangement. She lost her mind. She became a liability to both parties. To Horemheb she became a horrible embarrassment; she is the price he paid for his ambition. She loves him, but she revolts him. He wants to be rid of her. To Ay she was also a problem, for she is part of the dynasty, but she could not sustain a public role. Therefore it was in the interests of both parties that she
disappeared
from life, to become a kind of non-person without actually dying. But she is kept alive, for now. And as you see, she is quite mad, poor thing.'

‘And Horemheb?'

‘The ruthless young crocodile quickly outgrew his pond. He grew bigger and bigger. And soon all the fine meat and the rich jewels they fed him were not enough. He will rid himself of her as soon as it suits him to do so. He has been watching Ay, and Tutankhamun, and
Ankhesenamun, and all of us. And now, with the catastrophic death of the King, I'm afraid his moment has come.'

He seemed thoroughly sobered by his words. He looked about himself, at the smooth, cold luxury of the palace, and seemed for a moment to see it for what it truly was: a tomb.

‘But one thing is now clear,' I said.

‘And what is that?'

‘Both Ay and Horemheb are complicit with the Physician. Ay made the arrangements for her care. Horemheb knows how his wife is being incarcerated. But the question then is: who recruited the Physician to do what he did? Did Horemheb command the Physician to make his wife an opium addict? Or was it his own idea? And did the Physician act on his own agenda in terrorizing the King, or on the orders of someone else? Horemheb, perhaps?'

‘Or Ay,' said Khay.

‘Possibly. For he would not wish the King to take control of his own power, as he did. And yet his own reaction to what happened indicates he had no knowledge of how the objects came to be in the chamber. In any case, it does not feel like the kind of thing he would do.'

Khay sighed.

‘Neither possibility is optimistic. In any event, now that the King is dead, you may be sure Horemheb will arrive here soon. He has important business to conduct. His future is all before him. All he needs to do is conquer Ay and the Queen, and the Two Lands will belong to him. And I for one fear that day with all my heart.'

 

The hour was late. We had arrived back at the double doors of the Queen's apartment. Guards had been stationed there for the night. I asked Khay to leave me there, to speak to the Queen alone. He nodded, then hesitated, and turned as if to ask me something confidential.

‘Don't worry,' I said. ‘Your secret's safe with me.'

He looked relieved. But he also looked as if he was about to tell me something else.

‘What?'

He hesitated.

‘This is not a safe place for you any more.'

‘You're the second person to say that to me tonight,' I replied.

‘Then you know to be very careful. This is a pool of crocodiles. Take care where you step.'

He patted me on the arm, and then walked slowly away down the long, silent passageway, back to his small, diminishing amphora of good wine. I knew my time too was running out. But I had my clue. And, with luck, Nakht would have saved the boy, and he would now be healed enough to talk. If so, perhaps I could connect everything together. Identify the Physician. Stop him from committing any further acts of mutilation and murder. And then I could ask him the question that was burning in my head. Why?

I knocked on the door. The Maid of the Right Hand nervously opened it a fraction. I pushed past her and her protestations, and walked through into the chamber to which I had first been brought.
In another life
, I thought,
before I entered this labyrinth of shadows
. Nothing had changed. The doors to the courtyard garden were still open, the hammered bowls were lit, and the furniture remained immaculate. I remembered how I had felt this was her stage scenery. She appeared, alarmed, from the bedchamber. She was relieved to see it was me.

‘Why are you here? It is very late. Has something happened?'

‘Let's go outside.'

She nodded, uncertainly, drew a light shawl around her shoulders, and stepped through the doors into the garden. The maid quickly lit two lamps, then scurried away at a gesture from her mistress. We walked in silence to the pool, carrying the lamps, and seated ourselves on the same bench, in the dark, with just the lamps to hold back the darkness of the night.

‘Why didn't you tell me about Mutnodjmet?'

She tried for a moment to look innocent, but then she sighed.

‘I knew if you were any good you would find out eventually.'

‘That doesn't answer my question.'

‘Why didn't I tell you? Isn't that obvious? She is our terrible family secret. But why are you asking me? She could not possibly have anything to do with everything that has happened.'

‘You thought you were the best judge of that.'

She looked wounded.

‘Why are you saying this now?'

‘Because she is the person who left the carving, the box and the figurine.'

She laughed briefly.

‘That's not possible—'

‘She's an opium addict. As you know. She has a doctor. He calls himself the Physician. He has managed her need for his purposes. In return for carrying out the little tasks of leaving his presents around the royal quarters, he supplies her with the drug. So he keeps her in need, and she does whatever he requires. But what is more, that same man has also been killing and mutilating young people in the city, using the same drug to subdue them.'

She struggled to take it all in quickly.

‘Well then, you have solved the mystery. All you need to do is arrest him. And then you will have performed your task, and you can return to your life.'

‘She cannot name him. I am sure Ay or Horemheb can. But that is not why I am here.'

‘No?' she said, apprehensively.

‘You have been visiting Mutnodjmet, and taking her out of her apartments.'

‘Of course I have not.'

‘I know you have.'

She stood up, offended, but she did not deny it again. Then she sat down, her manner more deliberately conciliatory.

‘I took pity on her. She is a hopeless creature now, although once she was not so pitiful. And she is still my aunt. She and I are all that remain of our great dynasty. She is my only connection to my history. It is not a reassuring thought, is it?'

‘You must have been aware of her addiction?'

‘Yes, I suppose I was, but she had always been strange, ever since my childhood. So I avoided thinking about it, and no one else ever talked about it. I assumed it was Pentu who treated her.'

‘And then, when you realized what was happening with her addiction, you felt you were not in a position to be able to help her.'

‘I did not dare intervene between her husband and Ay. There was so much else at stake.'

She looked ashamed.

‘I could not risk a public scandal. Perhaps that was cowardly. Yes, I think now it was cowardly.'

‘Do you think Mutnodjmet ever revealed that you would visit, and take her out, from time to time?'

‘She knew that if she did, I would no longer be able to come.'

‘So it was a secret, and you could trust her to keep it?'

‘As far as I could trust her with anything.'

She looked uncomfortable.

‘Let me be direct. Perhaps you have seen this Physician. Perhaps he did not know about your visits. Perhaps you chanced upon him, once.'

‘I have never seen him,' she said, her eyes intent with truthfulness.

I looked away, disappointed again. The man was like a shadow, always in the corner of my eye, always elusive, slipping away into the dark.

‘But still you are afraid of something,' I continued.

‘I am afraid of many things, and as you know I do not hide my fear well. I am afraid to be alone, and to sleep. Now the nights seem longer and darker than ever. No candlelight seems powerful enough, in this dismal palace, to keep the shadows at bay.'

She suddenly looked utterly lost.

‘I want you to take me away,' she said. ‘I can't stay here. I'm too frightened.'

‘Where am I supposed to take you?'

‘You could take me to your home.'

I was astonished by the idea.

‘Of course I can't.'

‘Why can't you? We could leave together. We could go now.'

‘At this time? When the King is to be buried, and all is uncertain, and then you disappear?'

‘I can return for the funeral ceremonies. Take me in disguise. It is night. No one will know.'

‘You think of no one but yourself. I have risked everything for you from the moment you called for me. And now you think I will risk my own family? The answer is no. You must stay here, in the palace, and oversee the burial of the King. You must assert yourself in power. And I will stay beside you at all times.'

She turned on me, her face suddenly crude with anger.

‘I thought you had nobility, I thought you had honour.'

‘I care for the safety of my family above everything. Perhaps to you that is a strange idea,' I replied carelessly, and walked away, too angry to remain seated.

‘I'm sorry,' she said eventually, lowering her eyes.

‘You should be.'

‘You cannot talk to me as you have done,' she said.

‘I am the only one who tells you the truth.'

‘You make me dislike myself.'

‘That is not my intention,' I replied.

‘I know that.'

‘I promise you, I will not let you come to any harm.'

She searched my face, as if for confirmation.

‘You are right. I cannot run away from everything I fear. It is better to choose to fight rather than to flee…'

 

We set off back up the dark path towards the lit chamber.

‘What do you intend to do now? Ay is anxious to proceed as quickly as possible with the embalming, the burial, and his own coronation,' I said.

‘Yes, but even Ay cannot command time. The body must be made ready for burial, the tomb must be readied, the rituals must be meticulously observed; all of this takes the required and necessary number of days…'

‘Even so, Ay of all men can find ways to economize on everything.'

‘Perhaps. But how can he pretend the King is sequestered for so long? Rumour seeps out of silence like water from a cracked vessel…'

She suddenly stopped, her eyes alive with urgent thought.

‘If I am to survive, I have very few choices. Either I make an alliance with Ay, or with Horemheb. It is a brutal choice, and neither option holds anything but revulsion for me. But I know if I try to assert my own authority independently as Queen and as the last daughter of my family, I cannot yet command the support I would need among the bureaucracies and–despite Simut's support–the army. Not against the aggression and ambition of those two.'

‘But surely there is a third way. You play Ay and Horemheb off against each other,' I suggested.

She turned towards me, her face alight.

‘Exactly! Both would prefer me dead, but they realize alive I am a valuable asset to either of them. And if I could make each think the other wanted me, then, as men do, they might fight to the end to possess me.'

Suddenly, as she spoke with such conviction and passion, her mother's face appeared in hers.

‘Why are you staring at me like that?' she asked.

‘You look like someone I once knew,' I replied.

She understood at once who that might be.

‘I am sorry for you, Rahotep. You must miss your family and your life. I know you are only here because I called to you to help me. It is my fault. But from now I will protect you with all my power, such as it is,' she said.

‘And I will do everything I can for you. Perhaps we can protect each other.'

We bowed our heads at each other.

‘But I need to ask you to do something for me now,' I said.

 

She quickly supplied me with what I needed: papyrus, a reed pen, a palette containing two cakes of ink, sealing wax and a small pot of water. I wrote quickly, and the characters flowed from the pen with an urgent fluency of love and loss.

Then I wrote to Khety, telling him exactly what had happened to me, and what I needed him to do. I rolled both letters up, one inside the other, sealed them and handed them to Ankhesenamun.

‘Give these letters to Simut, and have him deliver them to my wife.'

She nodded, and hid them away in her writing chest.

‘You trust him?'

I nodded.

‘He will be able to deliver these letters undiscovered. It is not possible for you to do so,' I said.

Thinking of my family, I felt the pieces of my heart grinding against each other like shards of glass in my chest. Then suddenly we both heard something outside the double doors, and they were flung open.