Nefertiti rr-1 Read online

  ‘Khety, what is the principle of the arrangement of this part of the city?’

  ‘It is a grid, sir. The streets are all straight lines, and they intersect each other so that the buildings in their sections are all of the same size. It is perfect.’

  ‘Perfect, but not finished.’

  He ignored my comment, but Tjenry added, ‘There’s not much time left now until the Festival. They’ve brought in extra labour. Even so, it’s going to be tough to meet the deadlines.’

  Khety continued with his guided tour: ‘To the right of us is the Records Office, and beyond that the House of Life.’

  ‘The Records Office? I’ll want to visit that.’

  ‘It is an extensive library of information about everything and everyone.’

  ‘It’s the only one in the whole of the Two Lands,’ chipped in Tjenry brightly, as if he thought it was a great idea.

  ‘So we are all in there, reduced to information?’

  ‘I believe so,’ said Khety.

  ‘It is amazing how a few marks on papyrus can be said to represent all our histories and secrets, and be stored, and read, and remembered.’

  Khety nodded as if he was not sure what I was talking about.

  ‘And what is that construction beyond?’

  ‘The Small Aten Temple.’

  ‘And that in the distance?’ I could see ahead, opposite the sparkle and sails of the Great River, a low and immensely long building.

  ‘The Great Aten Temple, which is kept for exceptional festivities.’

  ‘Where am I to meet the King?’

  ‘My instructions are to bring you to the Great Palace but to show you the Small Aten Temple first.’

  ‘Houses, palaces, temples; great this, small that. It is confusing, isn’t it? What’s wrong with how things used to be?’

  Khety nodded again, uncertain how to respond. Tjenry grinned. I grinned back.

  Up ahead I could see the river of people and their shadows heading towards the great pylons of the temple, six of them arranged in pairs through the heart of the building, dazzlingly white. Streamers of multicoloured cloth drifted elegantly in the river breeze from their high poles as if they had all the time in the world. Unfinished hieroglyphs covered the stone facades of the pylons, illuminated gold by the setting sun. I struggled to read some of them, but I have never been good at this. Then we passed between the central pylons, jostled stiffly by the human stream that narrowed through the guard gate under another carving of the Aten, then bunched, hustled and distributed itself out into an open courtyard with colonnades on each side. The people dispersed expertly to their offices and appointments. Sunset is an important time of prayer, in these days more so than ever before.

  But this was a temple unlike any other I had seen. The great dark stone temples at Karnak are labyrinths lit by a few spots of intense white light, leading to ever more obscure chambers, all ensuring the god is kept perpetually hidden deep in the shadowy heart of his House, away from the ordinary light of the world and its teeming temporal worshippers. This was deliberately designed to be exactly the opposite, wide open to the air and the sun. Vast walls were decorated with thousands of images in panels and sections, almost all of them, as far as I could see, depicting Akhenaten, Nefertiti and their children worshipping the Aten. And the whole space was filled with hundreds of altars, arranged in rows, and all around the walls. At the back were chapels, again filled with altars. In the centre a main raised altar, surrounded by lotus-shaped incense burners, was piled high with food and flowers from both Upper and Lower Egypt. How clever to unite the offerings of the Two Lands in the one altar, and how ostentatious in our time of trouble. And everywhere one looked were statues, in all sizes, of Akhenaten and Nefertiti, looking down at their subjects not with the distant stare of official power, but with lively human faces, perfectly carved in the limestone, their hands intertwined or raised, cupped, to receive the divine gifts of the sun that on this evening, as every evening, were streaming down to them from a real sky. And people stood still, eyes wide open, their hands holding up offerings to the light: flowers, food, even occasionally babies.

  I looked down at my own hands and saw that they were gilded by the warm evening light.

  ‘“Since he casts his rays on me, bestowing life and dominion for ever and eternity, I shall make Akhetaten for the Aten, my father, in this place,”’ Khety recited, and he smiled. ‘The god is everywhere with us.’

  ‘Except at night.’

  ‘The god sails the darkness of the Otherworld, sir. But he always returns, reborn to a new day.’

  ‘Speaking of which, should we not now continue to the appointment?’ said Tjenry, amusingly bored by the spectacle of the worship.

  They led, and I followed, through the crowds.

  Whether or not this was the deliberate intention, I was disorientated by the experience of the new temple and its worshippers. Yes, one hears about the new religion, and how we must now worship the sun disc, with our arms raised. Yes, one discusses its pros and cons. Yes, one has to consider one’s position and one’s future. For some it is a matter of life and death while for most of us it is a question of doing what is required and getting on with our lives. But now I do not know what to think. Standing in the sun has never been a wise thing to do.

  We turned back out of the temple, left onto the Royal Road, and soon found ourselves outside the Great Palace. Connecting that complex to the King’s House was a great covered bridge, with square archways to allow traffic to pass beneath. And in the centre, above the crowds, a large balcony.

  ‘The Window of Appearances.’

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘From where our Lord bestows gifts.’

  ‘Have you received gifts, Khety?’

  ‘This collar, sir. It is of fine workmanship. And the materials are excellent.’

  He fingered the gold thread and azure beads. It wasn’t nearly as fine as the one worn by Mahu, but nevertheless a piece of beauty and worth.

  ‘You must have done great works to deserve such a gift.’

  ‘He’s very reliable, sir,’ said Tjenry, who wore no such collar.

  ‘I am faithful,’ said Khety.

  They glanced at each other.

  ‘And here we are-the Great Palace,’ said Tjenry expansively, as if he owned the place.

  8

  We passed through the guard gate and into a vast courtyard that spread out in the direction of the river. The sight of its flowing evening colours, and the feminine orchestra of the water birds, revived my spirits. And above me, looking out to the river, towered yet more statues of Akhenaten and Nefertiti. A man and a woman carved as gods.

  We turned right into an enclosed courtyard, and then right again into an antechamber. Beneath my feet I noticed pavements of painted scenes: beautiful waterways with fish and flowers, and stones and butterflies. We were approaching the heart of the palace, for more and more officials, men of status in fine white linens, passed us. They quickly assessed me, curiously, dispassionately and without warmth, as a stranger in the city. Clearly this was a place where everyone knew everyone but none were friends.

  Khety spoke to an officer of the court. Tjenry gave me a quick and inappropriate gesture of encouragement, and then I was ushered alone into a private courtyard as into the cage of a lion. It was exquisitely beautiful. Shuttered panels carved with filigree patterns ran around the edges until they opened on the side of the river. A fountain played in a translucent bowl balanced over a long pool. Flowers and river ferns flourished, nodding gently. The cool shade served only to sharpen the outline of a figure who stood, framed by the shutters, on a wide balcony giving on to the great panorama of the river and the greater one of the sunset, apparently gazing deeply into the dazzling consort of lights, the water’s dance, that surrounded him. Then he turned to face me.

  At first I could not make him out. ‘Life, Prosperity, Health,’ I said. ‘I offer myself to my Lord and to Ra.’ I kept my eyes lowered.

 
; Finally he spoke: ‘We have need of your offering.’ His voice was clear and light. ‘Look up.’

  He seemed to gaze upon me for a little while. Then he stepped carefully down and out of the last red light of the setting sun.

  Now I could look at him properly. He was both like and unlike his images. His face was still quite young; long, slender and almost beautiful, with precise lips and intelligent eyes that conveyed absolute power: it was both hard to look into them and impossible to look away. It was a fluid, alive face, but also one I could imagine hardening in an instant into ruthlessness. His body was disguised under his clothes, and a leopard skin was cast over one shoulder, but I had the impression of a slender, refined physique. Certainly his hands were fine. A beautifully wrought crutch was tucked under his right arm. He seemed at once brittle, as if with one light tap he would turn to dust, and immeasurably powerful, like someone who has been smashed to pieces and then restored, the stronger for the shattering. A rare creature, not quite of this world. Something of beauty and something of the beast.

  Akhenaten, Lord of the Two Lands, Lord of the World, smiled. His lips revealed teeth that were thin and widely spaced. And then the smile vanished. He shuffled to a throne, his right foot dragging slightly, and lowered himself into it. A very ordinary, human sigh of relief.

  ‘The work of creating the new world is challenging. But it is the way we will return to our ancestors and the great truth. Akhetaten, the City of the Great Horizon, is the portal to the eternal, and I am rebuilding the way.’

  He paused, waiting for my response. I had no idea what to say.

  ‘It is a great work, Lord.’

  He considered me. ‘I have heard interesting things about you. You have new ideas. You can trace the clues of a mystery to their hidden source. You persuade criminals to confess without torture. You enjoy the dark and dead ends of the crooked labyrinth of the human heart.’

  ‘I am interested in how things happen, and why. So I try to look at what is in front of me. To pay attention.’

  ‘To pay attention. I like that. Are you paying attention now?’

  ‘Yes, Lord.’

  He gestured for me to approach closer, concerned not to be overheard. ‘Then listen. There is a mystery. An alarming mystery. The Queen, my Nefertiti, the Perfect One, has vanished.’

  This was the worst possible news for me. A confirmation of a nagging concern that had been growing since Ahmose first approached me. I felt oddly calm for a man who suddenly found himself poised precariously on a high precipice.

  He waited for me to speak.

  ‘Permit me a question: when did this happen?’

  He paused, considering his reply. ‘Five days ago.’

  I did not quite know whether to believe him.

  ‘I have tried to keep this a secret,’ he continued, ‘but in this city of whispers and echoes it is not possible. Her absence is already the cause of considerable speculation, mostly in quarters who seek to profit from it.’

  ‘This is motive,’ I said.

  He looked annoyed suddenly. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean, it may be that she has been…sequestered by such persons.’

  ‘Of course. There are forces of ignorance working against us, against the enlightenment. Her vanishing will seem an opportunity to question all that we have made and open the way to a return to the darkness of superstition. Their timing would be perfect. It is too convenient.’

  I must have looked a little blank then.

  ‘Have those who recommended you committed a gross error?’

  ‘Forgive me, Lord. I was told nothing of the mystery or its circumstances. I was informed only that you wished to speak to me yourself.’

  He gathered his thoughts, quickly and effectively. ‘In ten days the capital’s inauguration Festival will take place. I have commanded the presence and tributes of all the kings, governors and tribe leaders, together with their ambassadors and retinues from around the Empire. It is the revelation of the new world. It is what she and I have worked towards for these many years, and it cannot fail just as we are about to achieve our glory. I must have her back. I must know who has taken her, and I must have her back!’

  He was suddenly shaking with rage-more, it seemed to me, with those who had taken her than with the loss of the woman herself. He whacked his staff across a table in fury. Then he shook his head, stood up shakily, turned away, calmed down, and pointed his gold staff at my face.

  ‘Do you understand the trust I place in you by speaking in this way? By revealing such considerations?’

  I nodded.

  He stood up and walked to the fountain where he observed the water pulsing. Then he turned back to me.

  ‘Find her. If she is alive, save her and bring her to me, together with those associated with the act. If she is dead, bring me her body so that I can give her to eternity. You have ten days. Call upon what resources you require. But trust no-one in this city. You are a stranger here. Keep it that way.’

  ‘May I speak?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I will need to question everyone who had access to the Queen. Everyone who knows her, who works for her, who cares for or does not care for her. That may include your own family, Lord.’

  He looked at me, taking his time. His face darkened again. ‘Are you implying that maybe your motivations exist within my own family?’

  ‘I must consider every possibility, no matter how unacceptable or unthinkable.’

  He was not pleased. ‘Do what you must, with my authority. I will give you permissions. However, remember that this authority brings responsibility. If you betray it in any way I will have you executed. And if within ten days you have not succeeded, know this: I will also kill your family.’

  My heart turned to a stone. The worst of my fears was confirmed. And he knew it. I could see it in his face.

  ‘And as for that little journal you keep your thoughts in, if I were you I would burn each scroll as you write it. “Somewhere between a mule and a mother-in-law”? I was not flattered. Remember your own advice. Take care.’

  He poked his staff at me, stared hard, and then I was dismissed from his presence.

  9

  As I came through the doors, Khety was waiting for me. He could tell I was shaken. He waited for me to speak.

  ‘Where’s Tjenry?’

  ‘He had to go. Mahu sent for him. He’ll meet us tomorrow.’

  I nodded. ‘I need a drink. Where does a thirsty man go in this dry town?’

  Khety took me to a pavilion by the water, separated from the dust of the roadway by a wooden fence and a fancy gateway which was connected with nothing at all on either side. We could have stepped around it easily, but since someone had bothered to design and construct it, we complied and passed through. Inside, a large wooden platform extended a little way out over the water, and tables and chairs were arranged casually around it. A crowd of groups and couples were sitting there, their drinks and faces lit by lamps, and by the lanterns that hung over their heads. Most of the faces looked up to observe me. I noticed again how they came from all parts of the Empire. Perhaps they were already gathering for the Festival.

  I chose a table to the side, near the water, and we sat. The wine list was interesting, and I ordered a jar of young Hatti: light enough for the time of day and for consuming with a snack. The servant returned with a plate of figs and-incredible rarity! — almonds, some bread, and the jar, inscribed with its date, origin, variety and maker. I tried it. Excellent. Clear as a bell.

  ‘You do not order Egyptian wine?’

  ‘No, Khety. I respect the wine from Kharga, and the Kynopolis stuff can be excellent. But for a foot soldier like me a Hatti white is a rare opportunity. Try it.’

  ‘I know little of wine. I drink Egyptian beer.’

  ‘Very healthy, but not much fun for the palate.’

  ‘Actually the wine is fine. Light and clear. I appreciate it.’

  ‘Try actually enjoying it.’
/>   ‘Yes, sir.’

  He took another sip. ‘It is enjoyable.’

  ‘Have an almond. They’re delicious.’

  ‘Oh, no, thank you.’

  How would I get this man to open up? He looked at me like a wary and not particularly bright dog. I wished Tjenry were here instead. He seemed to have more of an appetite for life.

  ‘Khety, we face an impossible task. Has your charming boss explained to you the nature of the mystery?’

  ‘No, sir.’

  ‘Well, I am going to tell you. And in doing so it will make us equal in one crucial respect, and one respect only. We are both under the same fate: if we fail to solve the mystery, we will suffer the same consequences. Do you understand?’

  He nodded.

  ‘Good. This is the mystery.’ I paused for dramatic effect. ‘The Queen has disappeared and my task is to find her and restore her to Akhenaten in time for the opening of the Festival.’

  His eyes widened and his mouth stayed open. ‘Disappeared? Do you mean…?’

  It was the worst acting I had seen in some time. He knew. Everybody knew, apparently, except me.

  ‘For heaven’s sake, stop pretending. Apparently her absence is the talk of the town.’

  His face cast about for a way out of his dilemma, but he quickly realized he was discovered. He put up his hands and shrugged with a frank little smile.

  ‘Good. Now, perhaps we can start again.’

  He looked at me, interested now.

  ‘What’s been going on in this city?’

  ‘What do you need to know?’

  ‘The politics.’

  He shrugged. ‘Dirty.’

  ‘So, nothing new in the portal to the eternal, then.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Just something Akhenaten said to me.’

  I sipped my fine wine and pushed the rare almonds towards him. He took one, reluctantly.

  ‘I’m just a middle-ranking Medjay officer,’ Khety said, ‘so what do I know? But if you’re asking me, here’s what I think.’ He moved closer. ‘Everyone who’s come to the city is on the make. Most people are here because they’re investing in the future-their own, their family’s. They realize they can rise within the new administrations and authorities. It’s a chance to rise above their stations. And there’s so much wealth here. It’s being siphoned off from the rest of the country, and for all I know from the whole Empire. A friend told me the garrisons in the north-east are hardly manned now, even though there is serious trouble brewing up there. Everyone here is from somewhere else, somewhere where they couldn’t even scrape a living any longer. The preparations for the Festival have put enormous pressure on everyone; the craftsmen are charging five times as much for their work because of the conditions and the hurry, and their bosses are taking a cut. They’ve drafted in thousands of immigrant workers but I’m sure the budget isn’t all being spent on food and wages. The wealth’s disappearing, the Treasury can’t keep up with the overspending, the cutbacks are hurting the rest of the country…I think it’s a disaster already happening.’