The Mask of Ra Page 5

  ‘I have witnessed death,’ Amerotke replied. ‘My heart is heavy, my mind dulled.’

  ‘For what you have done,’ came the teasing reply, ‘or what you are about to do?’

  Amerotke just made a third obeisance. The old priest sighed, clambered to his feet and closed the door of the Naos. Amerotke stood in the gloom, never turning his back to the shrine while the old priest brushed the floor with feathers, removing, according to ritual, any sign of Amerotke’s visit. Once outside the old priest joined his hands and bowed.

  ‘You prayed for wisdom, Amerotke?’

  The chief judge walked further away, lest they be overheard by the priests who now thronged around the sacred lake. He sheltered under the shade of a tamarisk tree; the old priest followed, his sandals pattering noisily.

  ‘We have heard what will happen today in the Hall of Two Truths,’ the old priest began. ‘Don’t you trust me, Amerotke?’

  ‘Tiya!’ Amerotke kissed him gently on the brow. ‘You are a divine father. You kneel constantly before the goddess in her shrine of the Red Chapel.’ He laughed sharply. ‘But you are still a busybody, like one of those little flies which hop along the water.’

  ‘Or a fish which hunts that fly,’ the old priest slyly retorted. His rheumy eyes gazed up at the young judge. ‘You are a child of the palace, Amerotke. A soldier of some repute. A judge of fearsome reputation. You have a beautiful wife and two young sons.’ He touched Amerotke’s chest. ‘But you are never at peace, are you? Do you really believe in the gods, Amerotke? Is it true what I have heard? The market chatter, the temple whispers?’

  Amerotke glanced away.

  ‘I believe in divine Pharaoh,’ he answered slowly. ‘He is the personification of the god Amun-Ra and Ma’at is his daughter. She is the god’s truth and justice.’

  ‘A good reply for someone who attended the House of Life,’ Tiya remarked. ‘But do you live in the truth, Amerotke? Or are you still haunted by nightmares that your wife does not love you? That she once lay with a handsome captain of the guard who, later today, stands trial before you?’ He drew closer, wiping a bead of sweat from his upper lip. ‘The season of the clouds is upon us,’ he said quietly. ‘In Thebes the hand of Ra’s beloved can still be felt. However, divine Pharaoh is dead. Soon the imprint he made will be covered by sand. A time of the sword! Soon, Amerotke, the season of the hyena will be upon us! Take care how you walk!’

  Seth, the red-haired god of destruction: often depicted as a man with a dog’s face.

  CHAPTER 3

  The ram horns blew, shattering the silence of the temple courtyard as Amerotke sat in the judgement chair, inlaid with lapis lazuli. Its leather back was edged with gold, its legs fashioned in the likeness of crouched lions. Before him lay the volumes of Pharaoh’s law. To his right the scribes had placed a small shrine of the goddess Ma’at. The horns stopped their wailing. The trial was about to begin.

  Amerotke glanced quickly at Sethos sitting on a stool of black leather. The eyes and ears of Pharaoh was tense and watchful like a snake ready to strike. Amerotke’s eyes moved. The scribes, too, had lost all sign of weariness. They squatted, cross-legged, the papyrus squares resting carefully, their pens and ink horns at the ready. Prenhoe caught his eye but Amerotke just sat and stared, ignoring his kinsman’s slight smile. He must not show, by any sign or word, the tension seething around the case before him. At the back, Asural and the temple police were organising the witnesses. Another braying horn; members of the royal guard from the regiment of Horus led Meneloto, once a captain in their ranks, into the Hall of Two Truths.

  The soldier was tall, slim-built, and he walked with a slight swagger. His slightly hooked nose gave his face an arrogant twist. He looked straight ahead, the only sign of nervousness being the occasional licking of his lower lip. He stopped alongside Sethos, bowed and then squatted down, crossing his legs, hands on his raised knees. He stared directly at Amerotke. The judge held his gaze, searching those eyes, that scarred soldier’s face, for any hint of amusement, of sardonic mockery.

  ‘My lord judge.’

  Sethos’ voice was so sharp Amerotke nearly jumped. He hid his disquiet by playing with the rings on his fingers.

  ‘You have my attention,’ Amerotke told him calmly.

  ‘My lord judge,’ Sethos continued, turning slightly in Meneloto’s direction. ‘The case before you is brought by the divine house and concerns the death of our beloved Pharaoh, His Majesty Tuthmosis II, darling son of Amun-Ra, the incarnation of Horus, King of the Two Lands who has now journeyed to the far horizon and is with his father in paradise.’

  Amerotke and the scribes bowed their heads, murmuring a short prayer in Pharaoh’s memory.

  ‘Amun-Ra gives us life!’ Sethos continued. ‘And when he calls his son to him that is a matter of his divine will. We are all in the hands of the gods. We also know that they are in our hands as well.’

  Amerotke blinked. He admired the cunning of Sethos’ words. A true fox! Any defence would be that Tuthmosis II’s sudden death was a matter of divine will but now the royal prosecutor had neatly turned it round.

  ‘We are all charged with duties to Amun-Ra’s beloved son. You have read the evidence?’

  Amerotke nodded.

  ‘Captain Meneloto was charged with the good care of the Pharaoh’s person and the security of his ship the Glory of Ra. Now, in the month of Athor, the season of the water plants, Pharaoh, beloved of …’

  ‘Thank you,’ Amerotke broke in. ‘The divine person of the dead Pharaoh is well known to us. Accordingly, during this trial, references to our god will be a simple “Pharaoh”. It will keep matters brief and save a great deal of time. We are not here to debate theology,’ Amerotke continued, raising his voice, ‘but to determine the truth. The death of Tuthmosis II was a grievous blow to the Kingdom of the Two Lands. Cries of grief echo from the Delta to the Black Lands beyond the First Cataract.’

  ‘And our enemies rejoice,’ Sethos interrupted.

  A hiss of disapproval rose from the scribes. Sethos bowed his head; even though he was a high priest of Amun-Ra, the friend of Pharaoh, the eyes and ears of the King, he must never interrupt the chief judge. Amerotke touched the pectoral of Ma’at and held up his right hand.

  ‘We are here to determine the truth,’ he declared flatly. ‘Matters regarding the defence of our borders are the responsibility of the House of War. You will continue.’

  Sethos rubbed his hands together. He stared up at the star-studded ceiling.

  ‘In which case,’ the prosecutor declared, ‘these are the facts. The royal barque, the Glory of Ra, docked at the quayside of Thebes. Divine Pharaoh came down from his throne. He left his cabin and ascended his palanquin which was then borne into the city. Many people, fortunate enough to look upon his face, remarked that Pharaoh was ill, grievously tired, wearied by his burdens of state. In reality, when the divine foot had touched the cabin floor of the Glory of Ra, he’d been bitten by a viper. By the time Pharaoh had reached the temple of Amun-Ra, the poison was coursing through his body. He collapsed and died.’

  ‘And where did the barque dock before it reached Thebes?’ Amerotke asked.

  ‘When divine Pharaoh visited the pyramid at Sakkara. On other occasions it simply moored midstream.’

  Amerotke stared full at Meneloto.

  ‘You were captain of divine Pharaoh’s guard?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘And the security of the Glory of Ra was your concern?’

  ‘Naturally.’

  Amerotke ignored the touch of arrogance in the soldier’s responses.

  ‘And you searched Pharaoh’s cabin for asps and scorpions?’

  ‘Both human and those who crawl in the dust!’ came the angry reply.

  One of the scribes giggled. Amerotke glared across.

  ‘Captain Meneloto, do you realise the seriousness of the charges brought against you?’

  ‘I do, my lord.’ The title was given reluctantly. ‘I also know
how dangerous it is to face a well-armed, charging enemy. I am innocent of any crime. The royal barque was searched from prow to stern at Sakkara and after leaving every other mooring place. No viper was found.’

  ‘In which case, my lord,’ Sethos broke in, ‘would the captain of the guard like to tell us what was discovered after beloved Pharaoh’s death?’

  ‘Tell him yourself!’ Meneloto snapped. ‘You seem to know everything!’

  ‘My lord.’ Sethos addressed Amerotke. ‘I call our first witness.’

  The trial continued. Both sides called witnesses; Meneloto’s swore that he was a faithful, conscientious soldier who had scrupulously searched the cabin on the royal barque for any danger to Pharaoh. Sethos, remaining cool and objective, summoned others to declare he had not. They all trooped forward, put their hands on the shrine of Ma’at and swore to tell the truth.

  The more witnesses were called, the greater Amerotke’s uncertainty grew. Something was very wrong here. He implicitly believed that Meneloto had been most conscientious in discharging his duties. However, members of the royal guard who had searched the barque had found a saw-scaled viper curled up beneath the royal dais. The viper had been killed and its mummified body was produced in court. It looked so lifeless and pathetic, yet it had brought down divine Pharaoh and caused ripples which had spread to the Delta and across the Red Lands to the east and west of Egypt.

  ‘My lord?’

  Amerotke raised his head. Sethos was looking at him strangely.

  ‘My lord, what is the matter? Are you confused about the evidence?’

  Amerotke cupped his chin between his fingers and allowed himself a smile. He glanced out towards the courtyard where the sunlight was fading; a light breeze had sprung up.

  ‘I am truly confused, my lord Sethos,’ he replied slowly.

  For the first time, Amerotke glimpsed a change of expression on Meneloto’s face. Was it hope? Or surprise? Did Meneloto really expect that Amerotke would use his cartouche, the divine seal of the court, to approve everything that was brought against him?

  ‘My confusion is great,’ Amerotke continued. ‘Let me show you why.’ He raised his left hand. ‘Captain Meneloto’s witnesses swear that he was a most professional and conscientious officer who searched the royal barque from prow to stern before it left Sakkara. Nothing was found.’ Amerotke raised his right hand. ‘On the other hand, lord Sethos has produced expert witnesses to say how, after beloved Pharaoh’s death, in the presence of the captain of the royal barque, a search was made and a viper was found and killed. Are you sure? Are you so certain in your heart, my lord Sethos, that this viper was the cause of Pharaoh’s death?’

  Sethos stared coolly back.

  ‘And why did it just strike Pharaoh? Why not someone else?’

  ‘My lord.’ Sethos lifted his hands. ‘The royal cabin was made of the costliest linen, stretched on poles, the sides and front open so divine Pharaoh could look out.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘The royal throne and footstool were inside on a hollow dais which appears to have hidden the viper. The docking of the royal barque, Pharaoh’s standing beside the dais ready to ascend the palanquin, could have aroused the serpent. It struck, then retreated back into the darkness where it was found.’

  ‘So why didn’t Pharaoh collapse immediately?’

  Sethos bowed. ‘My lord, my next witness will clarify the confusion for you: Peay, physician in the divine house.’

  Amerotke nodded. ‘I know Peay. Personal physician to Pharaoh, his wife and others.’ He smiled. ‘A man of expert knowledge.’

  The ushers of the court brought forward Peay. Amerotke knew the small, swarthy man by reputation, a man who liked to dabble in gossip, a collector of fine things, who loved to show off his ostentatious wealth by the rings which covered his fingers and the heavy necklaces shimmering round his throat. So costly, so lavish, Amerotke secretly wondered how the physician could bear their weight. The physician bowed, put his hand on the shrine and gabbled the words of the oath and, taking his time, squatted on the cushions to Amerotke’s right.

  ‘Sir,’ Amerotke began. ‘You know why you are called?’

  ‘I personally attended divine Pharaoh,’ Peay replied, his voice harsh and guttural. Despite his wealth and education, Peay felt self-conscious about being a provincial. He glared around, ruffling back the sleeves of his linen gown, as if challenging anyone to laugh or mock him.

  ‘On the evening Pharaoh died,’ Amerotke asked. ‘You were summoned to the temple of Amun-Ra?’

  ‘I was, as the ritual dictates, just after sunset.’

  ‘And you began divine Pharaoh’s preparations for his journey to the far horizon?’

  ‘I did. I also searched for the cause of his death.’

  ‘Why?’ Amerotke interrupted.

  Peay sat back, eyes round in amazement.

  ‘Pharaoh had collapsed. He suffered from the divine sickness. He was an epileptic,’ Peay stuttered. ‘I thought there was a possibility that he might have been in a swoon, one of the deep sleeps which this sickness brings on.’

  ‘But this was not the case?’ Amerotke asked.

  Peay shook his head. ‘The Pharaoh’s soul had travelled on. There was no life pulse in his neck or his hands. I was concerned because the death was so sudden,’ Peay added. ‘I removed the Pharaoh’s sandals and there, just above the heel, I saw the viper’s bite. A dark purplish colour, for the fangs had bitten very deep.’

  ‘On which leg?’ Amerotke asked.

  ‘On the left.’

  Amerotke leaned his arm against the chair.

  ‘And such a bite would be fatal?’

  ‘Of course. The saw-scale viper is most venomous, there is little we can do.’

  ‘Tell me. If Pharaoh was bitten as he left the royal barque, why didn’t he complain when it first occurred?’

  ‘Ah!’ Peay rocked himself backwards and forwards. If he hadn’t remembered where he was, he would have wagged a finger at the chief judge as if addressing scholars in the House of Life. ‘My lord, you must remember two matters. Beloved Pharaoh was about to enter the city. He was a soldier, a warrior, victorious over his enemies. If he felt any discomfort he would hide it.’

  ‘I agree,’ Amerotke replied.

  ‘Secondly,’ Peay continued, ‘the bite itself may not be so painful. I have known of men bitten who carried on with their business unaware of the venom racing towards their hearts.’

  ‘And how long does such a race last?’

  Peay blinked.

  ‘I accept your first suggestion,’ Amerotke explained. ‘But surely Pharaoh would have collapsed much earlier? Is that not true?’

  ‘It, it depends,’ Peay stuttered.

  ‘On what?’

  ‘It can differ from one person to another.’ Peay wiped the sweat from his face. ‘On their build, their physique. You must remember, my lord, Pharaoh did not move until he reached the temple. When a man is poisoned, the more energetic he becomes, the quicker that poison acts.’

  Amerotke recalled the officer executed earlier in the day. He made a sign with his hand that he accepted what the physician had said.

  ‘And you are certain about the viper bite?’ Amerotke insisted.

  Peay then called, as fellow witnesses, those who had dressed the royal corpse for burial, as well as others who had taken it across the Nile to the City of the Dead. Good, trustworthy workmen, they all took the oath of what they had seen and how the viper’s bite had been most apparent.

  ‘The evidence,’ Amerotke summarised, ‘would indicate that this viper was on board the royal barque the Glory of Ra. One could argue, though I speak from little knowledge of such snakes, that the viper came aboard while the ship was making its way along the Nile, probably at Sakkara where the barge would be brought into the bank, not just moored midstream. I admit it is strange no one saw it, but such serpents can hide themselves in dark corners, and only emerge when disturbed. This apparently happened at Thebes: divine Ph
araoh was most unfortunate; he was bitten, hid the discomfort but, on entering the temple of Amun-Ra, collapsed and died.’ Amerotke glanced at Meneloto. ‘Do you have any evidence to challenge these facts?’

  The captain of Pharaoh’s guard raised his head.

  Amerotke glimpsed the faint smile and realised Sethos had blundered into a trap. It was like when he played the game of Senet with his wife: Norfret always kept her face impassive but, just before she struck, closed the game and won victory, her eyes would smile, her lips slightly tighten. Amerotke blinked. He must not think of her, not now.

  ‘Do you wish to challenge my conclusion?’ he asked.

  ‘I do, my lord.’

  The reply caused ripples of murmurs around the court. Amerotke raised his hand.

  ‘I would like to call the priest Labda.’

  ‘Who is he?’ Sethos interrupted.

  ‘I wish to call the priest Labda.’ Meneloto kept to the ritual of the court.

  ‘Bring forward this witness!’ Amerotke shouted down the hall.

  The crowd parted as Asural led forward a hobbling old man, his limbs like sticks, his skin yellowing with age. His head and face hadn’t been properly shaven and this caused a few giggles. The chief of police eased him down on to the cushions then winked at Amerotke who stared stonily back. The chief judge could see the old man was uncomfortable. Every movement of his joints made him wince, his toothless mouth creased in pain. When he peered at the shrine of Ma’at over which he was supposed to take the oath he stretched forward one claw-like hand.

  ‘There’s no need, sir,’ Amerotke said, ‘to touch the shrine itself. I will take the oath as your proxy.’

  ‘You do me great honour and show me compassion.’ The old man’s voice was surprisingly strong as his milky eyes gazed blearily in Amerotke’s direction.

  ‘I swear, my lord Amerotke, as your hand touches the shrine of Ma’at, that I speak the truth. I am not long for this prison of flesh and I prepare for my journey to the tents of eternity.’

  ‘What is your name?’ Amerotke asked.