Bird in a Snare by N.L. Holmes

Bird in a Snare by N.L. Holmes

Author:N.L. Holmes [Holmes, N.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical, ancient egypt, akhenaten, amenhotep III, political mystery, Canaan
Publisher: WayBack Press
Published: 2020-03-23T06:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER 10

Just to avoid shadowing his son, Hani made a point of rejecting the first boat that beckoned. Aha marched up the gangplank, stiff and self-important, the rectangular sail soon caught the wind, and the ferry swept off upstream. Hani ushered Maya on board another vessel, and the two men took a seat, staring straight ahead up the sun-sequined blue road of the Great River as their steersman guided them into the current. Hani paid the crew to use the oars as soon and as long as they were able.

His heart sat like a rock in his stomach while his thoughts fluttered and squawked and beat themselves against the inside of his head. What kind of god turns sons against their fathers? As long as Aha had kept before his eyes the wisdom of the past, urging him to humility and kindness—and respect for his parents—he had been a good boy. Now the young ruled, imposing their brash, revolutionary ways over their wiser elders. The old truckled, pretended to change, afraid not to seem as revolutionary as—or more revolutionary than—their children.

What a world. He supposed he would have to call his firstborn Hesy-en-aten.

But a person’s name is part of his very soul. Hani’s gloom deepened. What happened to Aha when he cut Amen-hotep out of himself? Did he deform his ba, his identity, and become another person for real? Whoever this Hesy-en-aten was—the Favored One of the Aten—Hani didn’t like him. Even in his piety, Aha managed be arrogant. Hani wondered what Nub-nefer would make of her eldest son. He dreaded telling her, but perhaps she already knew.

Several days later, they drew into the old quay at Waset, which was mellow with age and none too clean. Sailors and longshoremen shouted or sang as they worked. Hani did not see Aha’s boat. It had already left on its next trip, and Hani’s son was doubtless on his way home to dinner. Hani and Maya descended from their gangplank onto the quay at the hand of one of the dockworkers, and Hani settled into his land legs. They had barely spoken for the entire journey. Hani had been unable to rouse himself to an appearance of good cheer, and Maya had respected his heavy silence. Hani wondered what the secretary had heard of his conversation with Aha.

And here they were, home. Now what? Hani’s own litter bearers awaited him, but he wanted to walk the city first. Maya trotted along uncomplainingly at his side.

Waset, the City of the Scepter, was unchanged as far as his eye could discern—unruffled by the winds that swirled up out of the desert. Ahead, looming over the houses, ghostly and shimmering in the heat, was the mighty fortress of Amen, symbol of kingship, age-old knowledge, and unimaginable wealth and power. It was Kemet, in a way, the portion of the Hidden One himself—impregnable, inextinguishable, unchangeable.

But a lump of lead seemed to sit in Hani’s stomach as he remembered the stifled uncertainty about the recent Festival of Drunkenness.



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