Tutankhamun thrust himself out of his chair and clapped his hands again. 'Where are they?'
Kysen turned and nodded at the doors. Through them burst a noisy group of young men followed by musicians playing music to which several foreign women danced. These were followed by servants bearing inlaid treasure boxes.
The king burst out laughing and shouted, 'Tanefer!'
The call was repeated by everyone in the hall. Meren ducked aside as a woman whirled her body at him. He smiled as he watched the young men stride toward the king. Disheveled, stained, and dusty, their leader nevertheless walked into the king's presence easily, as if he frequented the houses of kings every day, which he did.
Prince Tanefer knelt before the king, who raised him. To Meren, the resemblance between Tanefer, who was older by fourteen years, and the king was apparent, especially in the large, rounded eyes and full lips. They had gotten them from their father, the pharaoh Amunhotep, but Tanefer inherited the darker skin and softly curling black hair of his foreign mother.
The king and Tanefer exchanged a rough hug. Then Tanefer shouted an order, and the music rose. Drums beat out a sensual rhythm as Tanefer whispered something to the king. Then he began to clap his hands and sway.
Meren recognized the traditional warrior's dance of the royal charioteers. He folded his arms and smiled as Tanefer snatched a goblet of wine, raised it to the king, and kept on dancing. Tutankhamun laughed and answered by swinging into line with Tanefer. The king grabbed Kysen, who obliged by falling into step and dragging another new arrival, Rahotep, with him.
Around the room they swirled, stamping and leaping, until Tanefer ran into Meren, who ducked under a flailing arm and swung into line beside him. He whirled quickly in a circle, then kicked out with one leg. Tanefer jumped over it, but Meren snagged his ankle and yanked. Tanefer dropped to the floor, yelped, and rolled as the line of men ran into him.
Tutankhamun offered his arm as he passed, and Tanefer grabbed it. Leaping to his feet, he bent over, planted his hands on his thighs, and puffed to catch his breath. The line broke up as everyone guffawed at Tanefer and sucked in air.
The king pounded Meren on the back. 'That will teach him to parade before us like a Babylonian king.'
Tanefer raised his head and grinned at Tutankhamun. 'But, majesty, in reality I should be a king, king of Mitanni after my deposed uncle. I would be if I didn't find the Two Lands the chosen place of the gods. And besides, the divine one needs mirth and pleasure. It's my task to provide them as a solace in his days of care for the empire.'
This last comment attracted Meren's attention, as it was meant to. He stared at Tanefer, who was bowing to the king. As he straightened, Tanefer glanced at Meren, who read his meaning and faded out of the group. He circled around to Ay and whispered to the old man. Ay nodded. Leaning on his staff, he penetrated the crowd of young men and spoke to the king.
'Perhaps thy majesty desires to speak privately with his envoy to Palestine and Syria?'
Tutankhamun paused a moment, glanced at Meren, and said, 'Yes, my majesty desires it at once. Huy, Khai, Maya, go away for a while. We will summon you again.'
In a short time only a few confidants were left-the vizier, Horemheb, Prince Tanefer, and his companions, Prince Rahotep and Prince Djoserkarenseneb, called Djoser. Prince Hunefer stalled beside the king.
'Why must I go?' he whined.
Meren raised his eyes to the ceiling. Hunefer possessed the wits of a beer vat, but suffered from the fantasy that he deserved rewards and honors though he'd done nothing to earn them.
Tutankhamun gritted his teeth and scowled at Hunefer while he tapped his sandaled foot. 'You have to go, half brother, because I told you to.'
Meren slipped to Hunefer's side and smiled at him. Hunefer started at his sudden appearance, refused to meet Meren's gaze, and sidled out of the room. Meren made sure the overseer of the audience hall had closed the doors and that the royal sentries were in place beside them. When he returned, Tutankhamun had taken his chair again. Tanefer, Rahotep, and Djoser stood in front of him with the others gathered behind, all except Ay. The vizier's age and revered status allowed him to sit on a stool near the king when in private. Meren joined the group as Tanefer began.
'Majesty, Karkashar has fallen to the Hittites.'
Tutankhamun gripped the arms of his chair and cursed. 'You're sure?'
'Aye, divine one,' said Rahotep. 'We scouted the ruins ourselves. They burned and razed the city and carried off the women and children.'
Rahotep's glance slid away from the king. His opinion was unspoken but known to every man there. He could have prevented the disaster had he been pharaoh instead of Tutankhamun. But then, as far as Meren knew, Rahotep felt he could do anything better than anyone else.
Djoser shuddered. 'Not one man was left alive, majesty. You should have seen the battlefield. At first I thought I saw some of the bodies moving, and then I realized it was the… the flies and maggots.'
Meren eyed Djoser, who was pale under his layers of dust. Djoser, like Tutankhamun, Tanefer, and Rahotep, was the son of Amunhotep the Magnificent. But he was a half prince, the son of an Egyptian noblewoman rather than a princess. A scholarly man in his early twenties, he had gone on this expedition in a misguided attempt to become a warrior. He had returned with a limp and an air of one haunted by netherworld monsters. Meren didn't think he would attempt battle again, no matter how much he envied the king and Tanefer their warrior's skills and allure.
'Then we are left with the cities of Palestine between us and the Hittites,' the king said.
'Not for long, majesty,' said Tanefer.
'Yes,' Horemheb said, 'not for long. I can begin preparations for the army and navy at once. By next harvest we'll-'
Ay raised his hand. 'There's no need for haste. After all, pharaoh doesn't need the allegiance of vassals whose only desire in life is to wheedle gold from his coffers and murder each other. These northern peoples know nothing of peace and harmony. Let them devour each other while we play one against the other.'
Meren stepped aside as Tanefer abruptly bowed himself out of the group of men who burst into argument. He followed the prince, who ducked behind a column, and found him standing with fists balled, arms rigid, and eyes closed. Hearing the deliberately controlled deep breaths, he waited a moment before speaking.
'He doesn't mean to offend you.'
Tanefer opened his eyes and gave Meren a mock smile. 'Meren, my love, my old friend. Think you he's forgotten that my mother was a princess of Mitanni?'
'Perhaps.' Meren leaned against the column. 'You look too much the Egyptian, my friend, and more like your royal father than the king does.'
They stood together in silence while the king and his councillors argued. Meren had always felt sympathy for the princes and half princes of the kingdom. Only the sons of the great royal wife had a right to the throne, so these men were cast aside, regardless of their talent. Some, like Tanefer, preferred a warrior's life of freedom to the responsibilities of kingship. Some such as Djoser were temperamentally unsuited from birth to govern, while Rahotep and Hunefer lived lives of resentment and envy because their concubine mothers' blood cost them a throne.
In contrast, Tanefer's great passion was surrounding himself with objects of beauty. His attitude toward statues and luxurious furniture and jewelry was odd; he wanted to look at them rather than use them.
To Meren and everyone else a statue had a purpose: a gift to the gods, a repository of one's spirit, an image that enlivened one's soul for eternity. Jewelry was for adornment and for magic. Furniture was for convenience. Luxurious materials symbolized a man's status.
Tanefer wanted to look at these things as one looked at a beautiful woman. In the same way, he reveled in the artistry of the cavalry and was one of pharaoh's most accomplished charioteers. At twenty-eight, six years younger than Meren, he was rising fast in the military and had a reputation as a brilliant strategist. Meren thanked the gods for such as Tanefer, for the heretic pharaoh, Tutankhamun's dead brother Akhenaten, had left the empire weakened.
'Tanefer,' Meren said, 'it was not Ay who refused to come to the aid of Mitanni.'
