24
I was dragged fast down the dark corridors, my feet scrambling under me, until we arrived once again at the over-official, over-impressive doors, with the emblem of the Aten and its many hands bearing their ankhs above the lintel.
The mind is a strange thing; at moments of disaster it obsesses itself with nonsense. I remembered my old partner, Pentu. We were from the same city, the same streets. We had studied together, and come up through the lower ranks. We’d been called to a robbery, a jewellery shop in the lower quarter, near the main square. We were just making our way through the mess of the shop, shattered wood and broken vases and knick-knacks crunching under our feet. Pentu gestured to me that he would check the back room, and he went carefully in. For a moment there was silence, then he looked back around the door. ‘Empty,’ he said, and shrugged his broad shoulders. And then the point of a dagger appeared in his chest. Blood spread across his shirt. He looked shocked, then very disappointed. He sank to his knees. Behind him stood a young man, no more than sixteen or seventeen years old, a look of vicious fear on his face. Without thinking I threw my dagger. It whirred through the air, struck him hard in the heart, and he collapsed without a sound.
I ran to my friend and turned his face up to me. He was still alive. The blood was pulsing out of him. Too much blood. ‘Shit,’ he murmured. ‘Shit,’ I said. I couldn’t think of anything better. We sat like that for a little while, the sounds of the afternoon coming to us remotely from the street. Everything seemed very far away. Then he whispered, ‘D’you remember that old story?’ I shook my head. ‘The bit where the King says, “I want to drink a vat of Egyptian wine.” And then he does. And the whole country goes, “The King has a terrible hangover,” and he says, “I won’t speak to anyone today. I can’t do any work.” ’ He smiled and then he died. Just like that. His last words. Nonsense. We almost all die with the same thought:
I stood waiting with these useless thoughts, and I record them not because I believe them to be insights but because there was nothing else. My mind should have been racing with panic to find a solution to my dilemma. Instead, nonsense commanded my attention. Is this our mind’s way of helping us survive these moments of disaster? Do we enter the Otherworld to meet the gods with our minds in such disorder? Or is it just me-a fool, in the final reckoning?
The doors opened and I was untied and thrown through them and onto the floor. Mahu was already sitting at his desk. He remained turned from me, attending to something far more important. These games again. Finally he looked up, and those lion eyes gazed at me. Neither of us spoke. I was certainly not willing to start this conversation.
‘Do you remember the last time we met in this office? I told you I was here to help. I may not approve of you, I may not like you, but let me offer my hand in professional respect,’ he said.
I stayed silent.
‘Yet you have chosen to ignore my generosity when it could have been such a support to you.’
‘I don’t count assassination with a bow and arrow as support.’
He got up, came round the desk, as annoyingly tidy as ever, and then, out of the blue, he whacked me hard across the face. I blinked back the humiliation and anger. But beyond this, I was pleased. I had made him furious. This was good. He was breathing heavily.
‘If it were not for Akhenaten’s incomprehensible but of course indisputable trust in you, for such an accusation I would already have had you sent away in fetters to the gold mines in that barbaric land of Kush where you could perish slowly from the heat and the labour, and think a scorpion sting a gift from the gods.’
My silence after that outburst seemed to irk him even more. I wiped a drop of blood from the corner of my mouth.
‘If I wanted you dead, Rahotep, do you not think I could have arranged a more convenient, more effective, less confusing end for you and a less embarrassing one for me? You could have asked me, “Who was that fine gentleman who tried to shoot me?” And I could have told you something about him. But no. You could have made me a friend. Instead you have made me an enemy.’
He stepped away. He had, I must admit, the beginnings of a point, though I was sure he was bluffing about knowing the identity of my would-be assassin. I was unable to silence myself now.
‘You have wanted me out of here from the start. Why? Is professional jealousy motivation enough? I doubt it. Perhaps you have something to hide.’
Swiftly he swung towards me, his face close up to mine. I saw the lines around his eyes, the sparks of fury in his cold eyes, heard the hissing tension in his voice. His breath was unpleasant. I smelled the tang and taint of loathing on it.
‘Only the protection of Akhenaten-and we both know how weak that is becoming-prevents me from killing you now.’
The slavering dog barked. ‘Silence!’ he yelled, whether at me or the dog neither of us could be sure. The dog retired, whimpering. I smiled. His hand flew up again to strike me, but he controlled himself in time.
‘Oh Rahotep,’ he said, shaking his head, ‘you believe you live a charmed life. But listen to me now. Since you arrived here nothing has been as it should. I respected the wishes and commands of the King. I let you make your moves. And look where it has got us. Dead girls. Dead Medjay officers. Dead Priests. I feel chaos coming upon us, and I think you are to blame. So now I have to set things right again before it is too late.’
‘There’s nothing you can do,’ I said. ‘If you were capable of finding the Queen, or of solving these assassinations, you would have done so by now.’
His voice went very quiet. ‘Do not make the mistake of underestimating me. I can silence you. I can make you talk. I can make you sing like a girl, if I want. I’m going to present you now with a very simple choice. Leave this city, tonight. I will provide an armed escort. You can go back to Thebes, take your family away, and disappear. I will protect you from Akhenaten’s anger. Or stay. But you will make me your worst enemy. Whatever you choose, remember your family. Your lovely Tanefert. Your lovely little girls. Sekhmet. Thuyu. Nedjmet. Who think life is music and dancing and sweet dreams. And remember: I know everything about them.’
The way he spoke those names, sacred to my heart, filled me with dark fury. But I would not let him see this. I would not let him win. Suddenly an idea came to me, and before I could even begin to consider its ramifications the words were out of my mouth.
‘You have your threats, and I have mine.’
‘Such as?’ he said, uninterested.
‘I am not only working under the protection of Akhenaten. Let me mention another name. Ay.’
I let this hang in the air. It was a huge risk. I knew nothing of their relationship. He gave nothing away, but for the swift passage of some thought, some consideration, some idea, in his mind’s eye, as if for the first time I had played an interesting move in a game he commanded. I am sure I saw it.
‘I’m glad we’ve had this little talk,’ he said after a short while. ‘The next time we meet, if we meet again, will be interesting for both of us. Good luck with your big decision.’
He opened the door with ostentatious politeness, allowed me to pass through it, then slammed it shut behind me. It did not slam particularly effectively, because, as I noticed earlier, the door had warped slightly in its frame. So much for his grand gesture.
I was escorted out of the headquarters, past the rows of new desks where new recruits with no experience waited for someone to tell them what to do, then out onto the Royal Road. It was late, and the ways were empty but for the light of the moon. In any other city at any other time the streets would still be busy: little stalls and kiosks lit by lamplight still selling food and necessities; drunks parading up and down performing their turns of comedy or tragedy, or standing up to each other on staggering hind legs, yelling their magnificent soliloquies of injustice and ill fortune. But tonight, in this city of facades and appearances, people were afraid. They were inside, hiding in safety. On the streets there was nothing but silence and shadows as we passed by the monolithic buildings of this mud-brick nightmare of power. I longed to hear a dog bark, and another reply from across the city. But this was the kind of place where they slaughtered dogs to avoid the sound of barking in the night.
The guards accompanied me to my room and made it clear they would be staying outside the door throughout the night. Not as a comfort to me, of course. I entered the room I had left two days ago. The guards had given me a lamp, and I stood looking to see what had changed. The jug stood by the bed. I sniffed the water-
