James Patterson - The Murder of King Tut

Ankhesenpaaten ran a finger over the baby’s head, touching the small nose and stroking the soft black tufts of hair. The child’s eyes were closed, and she kissed each one.

All too soon, she knew, the royal embalmer would mummify this newborn and place it in the royal tomb to await the death of her parents.

“We will get to know one another in the afterlife,” Ankhesenpaaten whispered. “I love you, my darling Nefertiti.”

Egyptian Desert

1324 BC

IT WAS HIS TIME NOW, but was he ready-quite possibly to die? Tut stood alone in his tent, his stomach a knot of nerves and fear. Adrenaline raced through his body as he anxiously clenched and unclenched his fists, then bounced lightly on his toes a half dozen times. He was all of seventeen years old, and he was going to war.

Outside, he could hear swords clanking and horses whinnying as his great army assembled on the morning of battle. His army. Egypt ’s army.

Tut whispered a silent prayer to Amun. He strapped on his leather chest armor, slid a sword into the scabbard at his waist, then stepped out into the harsh desert sunlight to join his soldiers.

Unlike many of these men, whose wives followed the army, Tut had traveled alone. Sadness over the loss of their child had changed things between Tut and Ankhesenpaaten. Even though she had become pregnant again, things weren’t the same. She was moodier, more grown-up.

Unlike his father, who stayed home with Nefertiti every day of his life, Tut began traveling. He hunted deer with Aye, whom he continued to distrust. And he fell under the spell of General Horemheb, particularly on the subject of warfare. To be a real man, Tut decided he needed to do battle. He needed to be here with the army.

Now he had a chance to fight for the first time. He would test his mettle today, and perhaps he would die.

The great Egyptian army was encamped near the Canaanite city of Megiddo, a desert fortress surrounded by towering walls of mud and limestone. There was a good chance the Canaanites would refuse to come out and fight, preferring to endure an Egyptian siege than to be slaughtered in full view of their women and children.

Tut prayed that this would not be so. He ached for his first taste of battle.

The gleaming sword weighed heavily against his hip as he inspected his chariot team. Like soldiers before him, Tut vowed to be strong and to show no fear, but he worried that he might turn and flee.

“You have a talent for drawing, Pharaoh. Your images of the gods are so powerful that I feel the urge to bow down at the sight of them,” said Horemheb, who had stepped up to Tut’s side. It was a snake-like compliment about Tut’s passion for art, a not-too-subtle insinuation that the boy was timid like his father.

“Are you saying I should have stayed in Thebes, General?” Tut was unafraid to ask hard questions, even of men decades his senior.

Now he wiped the sweat from his brow. He surveyed his men-infantry, archers, and charioteers assembling in long orderly columns. A simple sweep of the eyes brought into view an arsenal the likes of which few had seen before: powerful bows and maces, highly sharpened axes, spears, and daggers glistening in the sun.

Having so much power at his disposal excited Tut in a way that he never could have imagined. No, he was not his father’s son. He was a warrior!

Egyptian Desert

1324 BC

“I WAS PAYING YOU a compliment, Pharaoh,” said the crafty Horemheb.

“Then I accept your compliment. Tell me, General, what is our strategy today?”

The general’s large but powerful chest and belly were bronzed from the sun, and he squinted as he studied Megiddo ’s distant fortifications. “May I speak bluntly, sir?”

“Of course you may. You know me well enough by now. I need to know the truth-always. Speak your mind.”

“I have conquered this miserable town before. It is a den of whores and thieves who don’t understand anything except brutal domination. If they come out to fight, we will first launch arrows and then send chariots to scatter their army. Our fighting men will wade in and slaughter them like the weak little piglets that they are. The desert sands will be engorged with their blood, which will flow from their bodies like water over a raging cataract.”

Horemheb grinned maliciously. Instead of groveling, he was now testing Tut for signs of squeamishness.

“When that moment comes, General, I will personally gut a Canaanite. I will use his innards to grease the axles of my chariot.”

“As you should,” said Horemheb, who seemed to approve of the pharaoh’s words.

Tut stared at Megiddo again and then turned to Horemheb. “And if they do not come out, what then?”

“Then there will be a siege. We will poison their wells and starve them. It might take months, but we will enter the city. I guarantee it. You haven’t lived until you’ve plundered a city like this one. The women cannot refuse you. And the men know to bring the youngest and most beautiful. You, of course, will have your pick.”

Horemheb paused, his sense of timing exquisite. “That is, if you desire a grown woman. They can be tempestuous, Pharaoh. Particularly when reluctantly submitting to a victor.”

Tut resisted the urge to draw his sword and hack off Horemheb’s arm to put him in his place. The general would be able to do nothing in his defense.

“My wife is woman enough for me. You may have my share of tempestuous whores.”

Suddenly, Horemheb’s eyes caught sight of something.

“What is it, General?”

“Permission to sound the call to order?”

“But what is it? What do you see? Tell me.”

Horemheb pointed a gnarled finger. “The gates to the city. Look for yourself. They are opening! The Canaanites are coming out to fight.”

Egyptian Desert

1324 BC

“HOLD!” YELLED HOREMHEB, the low timbre of his powerful voice cutting through the dry desert air. The highly trained Egyptian forces halted abruptly. Tut stopped too. Then he stared in utter amazement at the scene unfolding before him.

A mile distant, the Canaanite army poured forth from behind the city walls.

The infantry marched three columns abreast, numbering perhaps five thousand men. The all-important archers were assembled on the wings, ready to fire on any Egyptian flanking movement.

Up in the very front, in a mirror image of Horemheb and Tut and the rest of Egypt ’s commanders, the Canaanite charioteers charged forward. There were two men in each chariot, a driver and an archer, which allowed arrows to be fired while racing into battle.

The Canaanites came fast, as if intending to take immediate control of the field.

Their hulking shoulders and the great, dark beards that covered their chests made them look bigger and stronger than the Egyptians.

To his shame, Tut’s throat instantly closed in terror. He threw up in his mouth. As he studied the Canaanites, he realized that their march had not faltered, nor had their pace slackened. They seemed to grow more terrifying as they closed to within five hundred yards.

But their horses! Tut could see that they were ill trained and struggling to turn away from the fight.

Even the animals have the good sense to fear the coming battle, he thought. These were not the horses of victorious warriors, but horses that knew what it was like to turn and flee.

The realization galvanized Tut, but the chaos in his stomach intensified. He bent over and vomited in his chariot, quickly wiping his mouth and standing up straight so that his men would not think their pharaoh weak.

But there was no hiding anything from Horemheb. “I have done it many times myself, Pharaoh,” he said, his voice laced with sarcasm.