Nick Drake - Tutankhamun - The Book of Shadows

‘Such matters as belong not to the state but to the individual.’

She considered him carefully. Then she rose, and invited him to accompany her to an antechamber. He followed her, and so did I. He turned to me, furious, but she spoke firmly.

‘Rahotep is my personal guard. He goes everywhere with me. I can vouch absolutely for his integrity and his silence.’

He had no choice but to accept.

I stood by the door, like a security guard. They sat opposite each other on couches. He looked curiously inappropriate in this more domestic setting, as if walls and cushions were strange to him. Wine was poured, and then the servants vanished. She played the game of silence, and waited for him to make the first move.

‘I know the King is dead. I offer you my sincere condolences.’

He observed her reaction closely.

‘We accept your condolences. As we accept your loyalty. And we offer you our own condolences on the dreadful and premature death of your wife, my aunt.’

Instead of surprise or sorrow at this news, he merely nodded.

‘This news brings me grief. But may her name live for ever,’ he said, according to the formula, and with more than a touch of irony. Ankhesenamun turned away in disgust at his vanity and viciousness.

‘Was there anything else the general wished to say?’

He smiled slightly.

‘I have a simple proposal to make, and given the sensitivities concerned, I believed it was correct to express myself in a private setting. I decided it was more sympathetic. You are, after all, the grieving widow of a great King.’

‘His death has deprived us all of a great man,’ she replied.

‘Nevertheless, our private grief must necessarily take its rightful place among more urgent considerations.’

‘Do you think so?’

‘There is now much at stake, my lady. Of that I am certain you are fully aware.’

His eyes glinted. I saw how he was enjoying himself, like a stealthy hunter with his bow, stalking his unsuspecting quarry.

‘I am fully aware of the intricate perils of this changing moment in the life of the Two Lands.’

He smiled, and spread out his hands in an open gesture.

‘Then we may speak freely. I am sure we both have the best interests of the Two Lands at heart. And that is why I am here: to make a proposal. Or perhaps I mean a suggestion for your consideration.’

‘And that is?’

‘An offer of an alliance. A marriage.’

She pretended to be astounded.

‘A marriage? My mourning has barely begun, your own wife is barely dead, and already you speak of marriage? How can you be so insensible of the manners and rights of grief?’

‘My grief is my business. It is as well to discuss these issues now, so that you have time to make a full consideration. And time to come to the correct decision in due course.’

‘You speak as if there is only one possible answer.’

‘I speak with the passion I feel, but I wholeheartedly believe it to be so,’ he said, and did not smile.

She looked at him.

‘I would also ask you to consider a proposal of mine.’

He looked askance.

‘And what is that?’

‘In difficult moments like this, there is great temptation to make alliances, for political reasons. Many of these are very attractive. But I am the daughter of kings who have fashioned this kingdom into the greatest power the world has ever seen. My grandfather envisioned this palace, and built many of the monuments of this great city. My great ancestor Tutmosis III transformed the army of the Two Lands into the finest force ever known. A force that you now lead in magnificent triumphs. How therefore should I best represent the responsibility of power that I have inherited, in my blood and in my heart? How else but by ruling in his name, believing I can count upon the support of my faithful officers?’

He listened without emotion, and then he rose.

‘A name is very well. A dynasty is very well. But the kingdom is not a toy. It is not only pageantry and palaces. It is a rough beast, dirty and powerful, that must be brought by force of will under the sway of authority that is not afraid, when necessary, to exercise its full strength and power, no matter what the cost. And that is man’s work.’

‘I am a woman but my heart is as strong with anger and authority as any man’s. Believe me.’

‘Perhaps indeed you are your mother’s daughter. Perhaps you have the will and guts to smite your enemies courageously.’

She considered him.

‘Do not mistake me. I am a woman, but I have trained myself in the world of men. You may be sure your proposal will receive our most meticulous and judicious consideration.’

‘We must discuss your considerations, and the opportunities I propose, in more detail. I will be available to you at any moment. I have no intention of departing this city until the situation is resolved-to our mutual satisfaction. I am here as a private man, but I am here too as the General of the Armies of the Two Lands. I have my own duties, and I will perform them, with all the rigour of my calling.’

And he bowed, turned, and departed.

I walked as fast as I could through the noise and chaos of the crowded streets of the city towards Nakht’s house. The air dazzled with light. Every cry and shout of the street vendors, or the mule-men, or the scatterings of excited children, seemed to anger me. Everyone trespassed in the way of my progress. In my mind I felt as if I were attacking flies with a knife. It seemed as if everything that had happened since I was last here were a strange, hollow dream from which I still had not awoken. Sobek was somewhere, and yet I was unable to track him down. How could I do so? I needed to return to the place where I had first encountered him, and to the man who had introduced us.

I knocked on the door. Nakht’s servant Minmose opened it cautiously. I was gratified to see two Medjay guards standing behind him, their weapons prepared.

‘Ah, it is you, sir. I was hoping it might be.’

Inside, I quickly showed the guards my authorities, and Minmose informed me his master was on the roof terrace. I ascended the wide wooden steps, until I came out once more on to the elegant open space. My old friend was reclining under the embroidered awning, taking advantage of the light northern breeze, and pondering a papyrus scroll with a luxury of leisure I had forgotten existed in my world of politics and power struggles and mutilations.

He got up, delighted to see me.

‘So you are back! The days were passing swiftly, and I thought, surely he is back by now, but there was no news-’

He saw the expression on my face, and his greeting stuttered to a halt.

‘What on earth has happened?’ he cried, in alarm.

We sat in the shade, in the dappled light, and I told him all that had passed. He could not sit still, but paced around me, his hands behind his back. When I recounted the King’s accident and subsequent death, he stopped as if turned to stone.

‘With this death, the whole order, the great dynasty, is thrown into peril. We have had centuries of affluence and stability, and now all is suddenly in doubt. This leaves the way open for others to make a challenge for power, Horemheb, of course…’

I told him then about the general’s arrival at the palace.

He sat down again, shaking his head, looking as uncertain and afraid as I had ever seen him.

‘Unless some sort of truce is agreed, there will be civil war in the Two Lands,’ he murmured.

‘It looks disastrous indeed. But it is possible that Ankhesenamun could use her status and prestige to exactly the end you describe.’

‘Yes, both Ay and Horemheb would benefit from a new alliance with her,’ he mused.