Now I could look at him properly. He was both like and unlike his images. His face was still quite young; long, slender and almost beautiful, with precise lips and intelligent eyes that conveyed absolute power: it was both hard to look into them and impossible to look away. It was a fluid, alive face, but also one I could imagine hardening in an instant into ruthlessness. His body was disguised under his clothes, and a leopard skin was cast over one shoulder, but I had the impression of a slender, refined physique. Certainly his hands were fine. A beautifully wrought crutch was tucked under his right arm. He seemed at once brittle, as if with one light tap he would turn to dust, and immeasurably powerful, like someone who has been smashed to pieces and then restored, the stronger for the shattering. A rare creature, not quite of this world. Something of beauty and something of the beast.
Akhenaten, Lord of the Two Lands, Lord of the World, smiled. His lips revealed teeth that were thin and widely spaced. And then the smile vanished. He shuffled to a throne, his right foot dragging slightly, and lowered himself into it. A very ordinary, human sigh of relief.
‘The work of creating the new world is challenging. But it is the way we will return to our ancestors and the great truth. Akhetaten, the City of the Great Horizon, is the portal to the eternal, and I am rebuilding the way.’
He paused, waiting for my response. I had no idea what to say.
‘It is a great work, Lord.’
He considered me. ‘I have heard interesting things about you. You have new ideas. You can trace the clues of a mystery to their hidden source. You persuade criminals to confess without torture. You enjoy the dark and dead ends of the crooked labyrinth of the human heart.’
‘I am interested in how things happen, and why. So I try to look at what is in front of me. To pay attention.’
‘To pay attention. I like that. Are you paying attention now?’
‘Yes, Lord.’
He gestured for me to approach closer, concerned not to be overheard. ‘Then listen. There is a mystery. An alarming mystery. The Queen, my Nefertiti, the Perfect One, has vanished.’
This was the worst possible news for me. A confirmation of a nagging concern that had been growing since Ahmose first approached me. I felt oddly calm for a man who suddenly found himself poised precariously on a high precipice.
He waited for me to speak.
‘Permit me a question: when did this happen?’
He paused, considering his reply. ‘Five days ago.’
I did not quite know whether to believe him.
‘I have tried to keep this a secret,’ he continued, ‘but in this city of whispers and echoes it is not possible. Her absence is already the cause of considerable speculation, mostly in quarters who seek to profit from it.’
‘This is motive,’ I said.
He looked annoyed suddenly. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, it may be that she has been…sequestered by such persons.’
‘Of course. There are forces of ignorance working against us, against the enlightenment. Her vanishing will seem an opportunity to question all that we have made and open the way to a return to the darkness of superstition. Their timing would be perfect. It is too convenient.’
I must have looked a little blank then.
‘Have those who recommended you committed a gross error?’
‘Forgive me, Lord. I was told nothing of the mystery or its circumstances. I was informed only that you wished to speak to me yourself.’
He gathered his thoughts, quickly and effectively. ‘In ten days the capital’s inauguration Festival will take place. I have commanded the presence and tributes of all the kings, governors and tribe leaders, together with their ambassadors and retinues from around the Empire. It is the revelation of the new world. It is what she and I have worked towards for these many years, and it cannot fail just as we are about to achieve our glory. I must have her back. I must know who has taken her, and I must have her back!’
He was suddenly shaking with rage-more, it seemed to me, with those who had taken her than with the loss of the woman herself. He whacked his staff across a table in fury. Then he shook his head, stood up shakily, turned away, calmed down, and pointed his gold staff at my face.
‘Do you understand the trust I place in you by speaking in this way? By revealing such considerations?’
I nodded.
He stood up and walked to the fountain where he observed the water pulsing. Then he turned back to me.
‘Find her. If she is alive, save her and bring her to me, together with those associated with the act. If she is dead, bring me her body so that I can give her to eternity. You have ten days. Call upon what resources you require. But trust no-one in this city. You are a stranger here. Keep it that way.’
‘May I speak?’
‘Yes.’
‘I will need to question everyone who had access to the Queen. Everyone who knows her, who works for her, who cares for or does not care for her. That may include your own family, Lord.’
He looked at me, taking his time. His face darkened again. ‘Are you implying that maybe your motivations exist within my own family?’
‘I must consider every possibility, no matter how unacceptable or unthinkable.’
He was not pleased. ‘Do what you must, with my authority. I will give you permissions. However, remember that this authority brings responsibility. If you betray it in any way I will have you executed. And if within ten days you have not succeeded, know this: I will also kill your family.’
My heart turned to a stone. The worst of my fears was confirmed. And he knew it. I could see it in his face.
‘And as for that little journal you keep your thoughts in, if I were you I would burn each scroll as you write it. “Somewhere between a mule and a mother-in-law”? I was not flattered. Remember your own advice. Take care.’
He poked his staff at me, stared hard, and then I was dismissed from his presence.
9
As I came through the doors, Khety was waiting for me. He could tell I was shaken. He waited for me to speak.
‘Where’s Tjenry?’
‘He had to go. Mahu sent for him. He’ll meet us tomorrow.’
I nodded. ‘I need a drink. Where does a thirsty man go in this dry town?’
Khety took me to a pavilion by the water, separated from the dust of the roadway by a wooden fence and a fancy gateway which was connected with nothing at all on either side. We could have stepped around it easily, but since someone had bothered to design and construct it, we complied and passed through. Inside, a large wooden platform extended a little way out over the water, and tables and chairs were arranged casually around it. A crowd of groups and couples were sitting there, their drinks and faces lit by lamps, and by the lanterns that hung over their heads. Most of the faces looked up to observe me. I noticed again how they came from all parts of the Empire. Perhaps they were already gathering for the Festival.
I chose a table to the side, near the water, and we sat. The wine list was interesting, and I ordered a jar of young Hatti: light enough for the time of day and for consuming with a snack. The servant returned with a plate of figs and-incredible rarity! — almonds, some bread, and the jar, inscribed with its date, origin, variety and maker. I tried it. Excellent. Clear as a bell.
‘You do not order Egyptian wine?’
‘No, Khety. I respect the wine from Kharga, and the Kynopolis stuff can be excellent. But for a foot soldier like me a Hatti white is a rare opportunity. Try it.’
‘I know little of wine. I drink Egyptian beer.’
‘Very healthy, but not much fun for the palate.’
‘Actually the wine is fine. Light and clear. I appreciate it.’
‘Try actually enjoying it.’
‘Yes, sir.’
He took another sip. ‘It is enjoyable.’