two hieroglyphs. Cobra. The Snake, Great of Magic, Poised on the Crown of Pharaoh, Protector of Ra in his passage through the Underworld of the Night. And Seth with his forked tail, god of chaos and confusion, of the Red Land and war. This was the work of an expert, and I was lucky, strangely, to be alive. Equally strangely, I did not feel lucky. I felt warned. Either I had survived by the merest chance, or I was meant to survive. Either the unknown assassin had missed by the smallest degree-the lucky drift of the night breeze, the sudden cry of a bird distracting the arrow from its true course-or he had hit the mark exactly.
And then he had signed his work.
5
The rest of the journey passed in an uncomfortable silence. I was under the suspicion of all the passengers and crew, and they kept well away from me. The captain had had the charred damage patched but our pace was slowed, and it made us seem ugly and noticeable, now, among the busy ordinary traffic on the river. Even the children of the river villages, always ready to laugh and wave and call, watched us pass in silence. I offered the captain compensation through the Medjay office. But we both know the chances of his receiving anything are remote. If we are not paid our salaries, how are such unusual claims to be honoured? But I gave him my word, and it was all I had to give. He was not impressed. Somehow I must make this good. And I must consider the obvious fact: someone powerful knows I am coming, and does not want me in Akhetaten, this city that I had not seen-until now.
As we rounded a bend in the river, suddenly, after nothing but fields and hamlets and beyond them always the endless shape-shifting and broken stones of the Red Land, there appeared a vision: a bright white city laid out in a great crescent along the eastern curve of the river, and defended at its back by a range of red and grey cliffs that encircled and delineated the eastern edges of the territory, marked in the centre by a deep and narrow valley, like a large notch in a length of wood. The cliffs met the river at their north-westernmost tip. Thus the city was held-cupped, almost-in the vast palm of the land. It appeared nothing like the other cities of our world, not as a chaotic improvisation of ancient and temporary buildings. Rather, it seemed a vast ordered garden from which rose towers, temples, offices and villas, spreading from the shores of the river towards the edges of the desert behind. Great flocks of birds wheeled in the sky, and the sound of their singing and their cries reached me even from some distance.
All the passengers stood in awe together at the prow of the boat gazing at this impossible paradise in the desert, the place that held all our futures in its grasp. The young architect was able to point out the various sections of the city as well as the northern palace and its related buildings, all set, he said, within a novel system, a regulated grid of thoroughfares and streets so that all the buildings conformed to its consistent pattern. Why there should be a separation of sites he did not know. The workmen’s village was behind the main city, as one would expect. Apparently it is a model of its kind. Conceived, I am sure, not out of enlightenment but the simple fact that healthy and well-fed artisans and workers constitute a properly economical means of achieving the fastest and most competent construction. And run, as the world runs, on lines to suit the overseers and the heads of construction gangs.
At the landing stage a small Medjay retinue waited at attention to meet me. As I descended the gangplank, one stepped forward to offer the formal greeting. He introduced himself as the assistant to Mahu, and said he would be honoured to accompany me to my first meeting with him. Two guards before me, and two behind, we marched from the dock, leaving behind my astonished fellow passengers. The young architect bowed, as if caught out by the possibility that his indiscretions were naive and careless. I acknowledged him, in an attempt to reassure him that we both know this is a world in which Priests shit. The Moon gentleman merely raised a supercilious eyebrow, as if to say: you played us like fools, and now you assume your true identity. Good luck to you. The bureaucrat looked annoyed. And his handsome wife sent me a quick, bright glance, as if to say: perhaps I will see you in a crowded room some day, at an official function. And we will know each other…I bowed respectfully to her.
I was surprised at the absence on the streets of crowds, of bustle, of people with the usual variety of casual business. It seemed to be a place of single purpose. Its industry was the focus of its activities, in the service and celebration of Akhenaten and the royal family. All of which gave to the city a conscious and conspicuous strangeness, as if the confusion and colour of street life in Thebes had been reduced, calculated away almost; a place in which everyone was aware of the status and power of everyone else. It seemed less a city, more like a vast temple and palace complex with additions for the necessities of daily life. A beautiful place of enormous and overwhelming artifice.
But as we walked further into the city it began to seem less organized and complete than it had at first appeared. The newness of it all meant the courtyards’ pylons and sacred buildings dazzled because they were whitewashed but in many places undecorated. The hieroglyphs on the walls were unfinished. Whole sections of the city centre were still under construction. Ugly scaffolding hid what will surely be offices and temple complexes. Thousands of workmen laboured at every level of the constructions. Wide pathways and processionals petered out into desert tracks, or lost themselves in stones and dust. In the suburbs to the north and the south I was puzzled to note fine villas set next to poor shacks. The first tombs and chapels raised on an empty, stony arena at the edge of the cultivation, near the workmen’s village, suggested the city’s necropolis. At the heart of it all lay the central city, with the temple complexes to Aten and the bureaucracies. The extensive nature of these headquarters-indeed they seem as massive and as dominating as the temples themselves-is a signal of the true nature of the city, and I have heard they contain the largest secret papyrus archive assembled anywhere. I am keen to inspect this palace of secrets, and carry with me a letter of introduction. The purpose of collecting so much information can only be power. Perhaps, for all its impressive appearance, this is a city predicated on making its people afraid.
The other overwhelming impression-and one is glad of this for the heat, even for me, is shocking-was of water, everywhere. Normally one steps from the coolness of the river into chaos and dust. Not so here. The very stones of the walkways and the walls seemed fresh and clean, shining almost as if they too were fed on water. Firstly one became aware of the sound of it, constantly running in secret, under your feet, just out of sight. Then of the greenery and freshness of the gardens, and of the new trees planted along the avenues: I saw figs, date palms, persea, carobs and pomegranates. It may be that in this impossible capital it is always the season of fruit.
I boldly plucked a fig as I passed a garden wall; the branch was hanging down before me. Looking as I did so over the wall and into the garden I saw a tiled pool, and a woman who looked up in surprise and annoyance as the branch from which I had stolen my fig brushed back into place. The water was as clear as glass, the pool tiled in complex patterns of blue and gold. Such is the work of wealth. I would have to labour ten years to build such a pleasure palace. She was nearly naked as well, her skin the colour of the gold running through the tiles and the water. Here it seems women have leisure to sit in the shade while their husbands, presumably officers or diplomats, work at the business of creating the new world.
As we moved on, in strange contrast, we passed herds of labourers struggling among the rickety supports that were placed, ramshackle, along the high walls of the buildings. It is a wonder to me that such inadequate scaffolding does not collapse on a daily basis. Great stacks of dry mud-bricks stood everywhere like miniature desert cities for populations of tiny citizens. And I noticed, hidden in some of the shadowy alleys, broken, collapsed figures, looking as though they had not stirred for some time, and might not do so again.
I was marched directly to the offices of the Medjay. New quarters. Marble and limestone cladding on the walls, fresh decorations, efficient, elegantly stylish furniture, crates of documents and who knows what unnecessary junk half-unpacked or still unopened. Is this how our power is to be accommodated now? Such a contrast with our own dark, dated and shabby offices in Thebes, and in all the other stations in the different nomes I have visited. We passed down corridor after corridor, past crowds of men going about their business, most casting brief curious glances at me, until finally we arrived at large and ornately gilded wooden doors inscribed with the insignia of power and surmounted by that new emblem of divine power the Aten sun disc, its many little hands reaching down to the adoring world.
A secretary sat to one side at a desk. Barely acknowledging me, this young officer then entered the Great Office, while I was left to stand. The guards shuffled a little, my guide looked embarrassed, and the seconds ticked by. We all listened to a bird singing in the courtyard. I cleared my throat, which had no discernible effect on anyone. The guards continued to stare at the doors. I began to feel more like a prisoner than an honoured fellow officer.
