Suddenly we came into a clearing among the reeds, and there were all the other skiffs balanced on their own reflections which stretched and wavered then came to rest. I saw Mahu, standing in his boat, observing the reeds and the sky. All was silent. Everyone listened.
Then he beat a pair of clappers together, shouted the hunting call, and the evening air filled with the sound of thousands of birds taking to the skies. Everyone hurled their sticks at once, tens of them whirring into the pandemonium of the suddenly risen flock, and those who possessed bows let their arrows hiss into the chaos. I took some kind of aim and threw my stick. The cat went crazy, dancing like a mad thing. There were shouts and cries, the skiffs separated to follow the hunt, and then the great air was filled with the flutter and thud of bodies tumbling down to splash into the water. The cat appeared from among the reeds with its catch, a bloodied duck, in its mouth. The iridescent colours of the feathers were marked with blood under the wings, but otherwise it seemed perfect in its moment of death.
I ducked down to grasp a spear. We had entered another forest of reeds. Suddenly I could see nothing of the other boats.
I looked up and found myself face to face with Hor. His bow was pointing directly at me. It was drawn back, and an arrow tipped with silver, and bearing the hieroglyphs of the Cobra and Seth, I now noticed, was poised in its tense embrace.
‘You missed me last time,’ I said.
‘I meant to.’
‘That’s what they all say.’
He was not amused, and tightened the bow’s tension. He could not miss me now, and he smiled. I held my breath. I thought: you idiot, to walk into this trap. This would appear a sorry accident, as if I had been cut down by an unlucky hunting arrow as it fell back to earth.
Then, suddenly, he fell sideways-from nowhere a throwing stick knocked him down. His arrow flew off with an almost comic twang into the reeds. I struggled to keep my balance, and almost fell into the water. Khety came into view, gesturing in fear. Hor stirred in the bottom of the boat, groaning and clutching his head. There was blood on the reed floor. I threw the weighted net over him, and as he tried to rise I pushed him over the edge and into the water where he thrashed and struggled, enmeshing himself ever deeper in the fine labyrinth of the net. I had no choice. I cast the spear deep into his chest, pushing him down under the surface. The spear met the tension of solid muscle, the resistance of bone. I stabbed and thrust again, and this time the blade passed right through into his body and out the other side. I drew it back and got ready to strike again, but it was not necessary. Even under the water he looked amazed, then disappointed. The water blurred, clouded red, then he slowly swung over onto his front.
I turned the skiff around and began to sail for my life. I glanced back. The body bobbed just beneath the water. The reeds slapped into the prow and my face. Luckily I was lighter by one man so my pace was faster now. I saw Khety again, also alone on his boat, ahead of me. I gestured for him to keep going. Behind me I saw Mahu turn to look in my direction; then came shouts and calls. I disappeared again into the hissing reeds. The cat worried and danced away at the dead bird, guiltily snatching little mouthfuls of feathers. I was gaining distance, drawing closer to Khety. He gestured to me to be silent as from the river came the sound of more boats, and the louder sound of men calling. I had to assume that accomplices in this new assassination attempt were among these men, and indeed that Mahu himself had sanctioned it. No wonder he had been so insistent on my presence.
We moved deeper into the marsh. I motioned to Khety to slow down. Among a thicket of reeds we came to a stop and waited, barely daring to breathe, listening. I could hear the boats coming towards each other, and then the calls of warning and recognition as they appeared through the reeds. Moments of discussion followed. They decided to split up and fan out to search the marsh. I glanced around me. It was growing dark and becoming impossible to be sure which way lay the shore, and whether we could save ourselves upon it.
I wrestled the dead bird from the cat’s reluctant mouth, its damned claws scratching my wrists, and broke open the bird’s neck. Quickly I smeared the blood along the floor and the side of the skiff, and threw the body away. The cat glared at me with spite and anger at the waste, and began howling and sniffing the blood to see what could be saved. Then I motioned Khety towards me and climbed over onto his boat. As quietly as I could I pushed my skiff away into the reeds with my foot. It slowly disappeared into the rising mist, the cat on the prow staring balefully back at me.
We poled the skiff as silently and as deeply as we could into the dark reed forest and sat waiting.
‘Good throw,’ I whispered.
‘Thanks.’
‘Where did you learn that kind of accuracy?’
‘I’ve hunted all my life.’
‘Luckily for me.’
Then we heard it: the reeds parting stiffly to allow a skiff to pass. It was no more than twenty cubits from us. We could see nothing. I tested the bow, prepared an arrow. The bow’s pure energy sang beneath my fingers. We waited, our breath held absolutely silent. Then came an urgent exchange: they had found the bloodied boat. We crouched down and waited for fate to take its course. Would they take the bait? We could hear them talking, as if they were in the next room. Then their voices gradually faded as they moved away, taking the other boat with them.
We sat there for a long time, still as crocodiles. Gradually the voices and the night lamps of the boats faded into the darkness, and we were left alone with the noisy evening life of the marsh, the newly appearing stars and, luckily, an early-risen half-moon: there was enough light in the sky to help us home, and the lengthening shadows would be our disguise.
‘Thanks for saving my life,’ I said.
I could tell Khety was smiling, pleased, in the dark.
‘It seems that someone dislikes me here, Khety.’
‘I didn’t tell Mahu anything. Believe me.’
This time I decided I did.
‘But why would he take such an obvious risk? Surely if he wanted me out of the way he would have found a subtler way to do it than inviting me on a hunt.’
‘He’s not that bright,’ Khety said, with some kind of pleasure.
‘Let’s head back.’
‘And then what?’
‘Pick up the trail. The Harem. A night visit.’
18
The city came into view, its pale new buildings gleaming in the moonlight, the desert around it dark but for the cliffs and boulders lit by the same light, as if giving back what the sun had granted by day.
We jumped ashore into the shadows near the harbour. Khety led the way, keeping to the moonless side of the passages and thoroughfares. ‘There are three royal palaces,’ he said, ‘the Great, the North, and the Riverside. The Great contains the main women’s quarters.’
‘And where does Akhenaten sleep at night?’
‘No-one knows. He moves between the palaces, according to the Duties of the Day. He shows himself to the people as he progresses between temple worship, official business and receptions. I suppose he has sleeping quarters in each palace.’
‘It’s a hard life.’
Khety grinned at me.
We crossed the Royal Road and came to the Great Palace. It was enormous, a long structure that ran along the western side of the road. At the main gate stood two guards. ‘We’re in luck,’ said Khety quietly. ‘I know them.’