City of Hermopolis
Reign of Horemheb, Year 13
The sun glinted from brown flesh, brightly dyed cloth and jewelry of burnished metals and many-colored faience; the air was heavy with the scent of flowers and spicy food cooked especially for the occasion. The city of Hermopolis had turned out to watch the arrival of the force from Memphis that would be going to the ghost city of Amarna under the command of Lord Nebamun, son of Nakht, who was second in power only to the High Priest of Ptah.
Khonsu, Commander of the Police of the powerful fifteenth Nome, or province, of Egypt, headquartered in Hermopolis, stood at the entrance to the palace of the Governor, awaiting the arrival of the priestly party, his mind awhirl with plans and a touch of unease.
Khonsu shrugged with a good imitation of nonchalance. He was a dark-eyed man in his mid thirties, with quirky brows and a mouth bracketed by lines of laughter. His expression was grim at the moment. "His Lordship has reasons for everything," he said. "I'm his Chief of Police, so it's fitting for me to escort such an important visitor." He paused, remembering the deserted city lying shadowed and ominous in its bowl of land by the river.
"I wonder what he's like," said Kheti.
"He's a puzzle," Khonsu said. "I tried to check him out when I heard of this assignment, but I hit a dead end. He can't be traced through his name or his patronymic: Nebamun and Nakht are common names. It's impossible to sort them out. From what I've heard, the man's upper Egyptian by his features, possibly Theban. He must have had military training at one time: he's known to be an excellent charioteer and a master archer. I wonder how he came to be at the temple of Ptah."
Kheti frowned and shook his head.
"Well," Khonsu said, "Whatever may be the story behind Lord Nebamun, he's the High Priest Prince Thutmose's son-in-law and heir, and I hear he's as dear to His Highness as a son of his body. The fact that he's leading this expedition shows that Prince Thutmose feels that the issues are serious enough to require the supervision of a close kinsman."
The cheers increased in volume; Khonsu could hear the roar of trumpets and the throb of drums above the sound; the Second Prophet was approaching.
"He comes!" someone cried. A carefully groomed child of about three, standing by the roadside and clutching a huge armful of lotuses and marguerites, shifted his feet and stared down along the road with enormous eyes.
Khonsu watched with unseeing eyes as he reviewed his assignment once more with some unease. Puzzle was piled upon puzzle. They were going to the Heretic's city, deserted for almost thirty years. Khonsu had grown up on tales of horror centering around the place. The Heretic's cousin and Vizier - another Nakht - had presided over the dismantling of some of its larger buildings in the second year of Pharaoh Tutankhamun's reign. Lord Nakht, facing scandal and ruin, killed himself there. The dismantling was hurried along after his death by people who were anxious to leave the place. Khonsu was certain there was a fair amount of wealth still there for the taking.
And so Khonsu had been assigned to escort the Second Prophet and his retinue to the abandoned city of Amarna. He had had a week to select those whom he judged steadiest and least likely to be frightened. He had sent most of them south along with Karoya, one of his top lieutenants, who would act as his second in command for the venture, to set up a garrison.
He had received word the evening before that they had reached the city in good time and were busy clearing away some of the clutter and preparing suitable lodgings.
He blinked as a line of trumpeters and drummers passed him, followed by what seemed to be a phalanx of spotlessly garbed priests. The white-robed men moved down the processional way in time to the beat of the drums. The cult of Ptah was powerful in Egypt; gold bracelets glinted in the sun, and one of the priests, walking at their head, wore a fillet and sidelock of gold about his shaven head.
"That's him!" Kheti exclaimed.
Khonsu frowned and looked more closely. "No," he said after a moment's thought. "This one's too young. He doesn't look like he'd be much use in a fight. Lord Tothotep said he's in his fifties and looks like a soldier."
"You're right," said Kheti. "But this one's got some seniority, I'd say."
Khonsu and Kheti watched as the man passed and then turned back to gaze down the road.
The cries of the crowd increased as a heavily armed escort swung into view: close-combat infantry bearing long, two-handed mace axes and curved swords of bronze glinting red in the sun. Heavy wooden shields, bound with spotted bull hide and bearing a representation of the triple-headed staff that was the symbol of the cult of Ptah, were slung over their backs by straps of heavy leather. Khonsu watched them with the knowing eye of a veteran soldier. "Businesslike," he said.
"I wish they were ours!" Kheti said. echoing Khonsu's thoughts.
The soldiers were followed by a light, elegant chariot drawn by a matched pair of cream-maned sorrel stallions. The driver, a young man no more than twenty-three years old, wore a leather corselet sewn with bronze scales. His bronze helmet had a gold-inlaid browband. The man standing beside him was in his early fifties, calm-faced and self-contained, but with the suggestion of foreign blood showing about his eyes and the cut of his mouth.
This man had the look of a soldier about him, and Khonsu knew him at once for Lord Nebamun, the Second Prophet of Ptah. He wore crisply pleated, spotless white linen. A festival fillet of gold circled his forehead and fastened at the back with a clasp shaped like a lotus bud. Gold wrist- and armlets flashed in the sun while a lapis-inlaid golden leopard-head snarled from the center of his breast above the knot that fastened the beast's pelt across the man's shoulders. A carved carnelian Eye-of-Horus amulet hung below the leopard's head from a gold chain and, hanging from the man's belt, an apron of gold chimed and jingled with the motion of the chariot.
"That's him," Khonsu said to Kheti. "No question about it."
The Second Prophet's driver reined in the team to adjust to the decreased pace of the procession as the chariot drew abreast of the child with the flowers.
Khonsu saw grown-up hands behind the little boy give him a quick shove forward, bringing him out into the street.
Lord Nebamun, looking round at the crowd with a quiet smile, caught sight of the tot and laid an urgent hand on the driver's arm. The driver's painted eyes widened; he tightened the reins and the horses stopped, shaking their heads and prancing at the pressure on their bits. Lord Nebamun braced himself as the vehicle drew to a halt, then turned a smiling face upon the child.
The crowd fell silent.
The child, staring up at the looming horses and the glittering man beyond them, took a frightened step backward. He hesitated at a hissed command, then went slowly forward, holding out the bouquet as the Second Prophet stepped down from the chariot. Khonsu caught the unmistakable impression of a carefully memorized speech being flung to the winds as Lord Nebamun leaned down, smiling, took hold of child and bouquet both, and lifted them in his arms.
"Are these for me?" he asked. Khonsu could hear his strong, clear voice over the hush, then the lilting chatter of a response - the memorized speech coming back at last. The Second Prophet listened with smiling attention. "Then I thank the great city of Hermopolis and its children," he said. "And did you and your friends pick these beautiful flowers yourselves?"
The child nodded, shy again.
Lord Nebamun gave him a quick kiss on the cheek - the embrace was returned - and then set him down, keeping the bouquet. A gentle, imperative hand between the child's shoulder-blades guided him back to his family.
The Second Prophet stepped back into the chariot, bowed to the crowd, winked at the child, and then motioned his driver to continue toward the Nomarch's residence as cheers rang behind him.
Kheti turned a beaming face to Khonsu. "He has the touch!" he said.
Khonsu nodded. "He does," he said. "But...I get the feeling that I wouldn't want him for an enemy."
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