Return to Thebes by Allen Drury

Author:Allen Drury [Drury, Allen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Genre Fiction, Historical, Mythology & Folk Tales, Historical Fiction, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Fantasy, fairy tales
Amazon: B010ITATZI
Publisher: WordFire Press
Published: 2015-06-26T04:00:00+00:00

Amonhotep,

Son of Hapu

They face us now across the polished cedarwood table sent from Lebanon years ago as gift for his brother when gifts were still being given: two defiant children in the soft flickering glow of the oil burning in the alabaster lamps that hang from hooks along the cabin walls. The curtains are drawn tight against the night, outside the singing and revelry are at last beginning to die down. The crew of the royal barge is sleeping on the shore. No one is near to disturb the six who are still awake at this late hour: Aye; Horemheb; Hatsuret; the two children; and myself, who am still permitted to attend their councils, because Horemheb has kept the word he gave me that horrible night: he forgave me. Miraculously our friendship, and my trusted place with the Family, continue unchanged.

It is apparent that His Majesty is very angry, and that Ankhesenpaaten (the new name “Ankhesenamon” does not yet come easily to me) shares his feelings fully.

“I have asked you here,” he begins, his boy’s voice breaking now and again with adolescence, but his intensity such that he ignores it save for an occasional impatient shake of the head, “because I am much displeased. I would have the cause of my displeasure—removed.”

“What is the cause of your displeasure, Son of the Sun?” Aye asks gravely. Tut almost interrupts with his scornful answer, which startles us all, it is so unlike him heretofore: this must be an anger genuine indeed.

“You know what it is, Uncle!” he says sharply. “I have no doubt they have told you all about it long since. It is the High Priest and his rowdies who break the King’s peace and harry his people!”

“I am sure there was no intention—” Aye begins, but this time Pharaoh does interrupt.

“Oh, there was intention,” he says coldly. “I was there, Uncle. I saw the intention.” He turns sharply on Hatsuret, who is still standing near the door because Pharaoh has deliberately not asked him to be seated. “What did you intend to do to that poor man had I not stopped you, Hatsuret? Is the High Priest of Amon a murderer?”

Hatsuret starts as though struck a physical blow in the face. His eyes narrow with anger, but he knows he must control it, and he does.

“Your Majesty,” he says quietly, “I was but teaching him a lesson.”

“What kind of lesson?” Pharaoh demands. “And what had he done to warrant such a lesson? Speak! I would know!”

“He and his village were insolent,” Hatsuret begins. “They defied me when I asked for goods for Pharaoh—”

“I arrived before you think, Hatsuret,” Pharaoh interrupts. “I know what was said.”

“Do you accuse me of lying, Your Majesty?” Hatsuret demands with a sharpness he would not have dared show a grown man. Perhaps he should not have dared with this.

“Do you accuse me, Hatsuret?” Tut asks, his voice suddenly soft and dangerous with an emotion we have never heard in it before.

Hatsuret is obviously taken aback but, for a moment only, he holds his ground.

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