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Authors: Pauline Gedge
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“Nakht-sobek will be working in his office until the noon meal. I have already sent Maani-nekhtef to find Chief Architect Kha and have him waiting for you with the Treasurer. Make them bend to my will, Uncle Huy! Am I not supreme in Egypt? Nakht-sobek’s refusal to open the Treasury to my demands borders on blasphemy! I am eager to begin beautifying the houses of the gods. What’s wrong with that?”
Huy glanced about. No one but the Queen was within earshot. “Amunhotep, you know exactly what’s wrong,” he said, deliberately using the boy’s name rather than one of his titles. “You are behaving like a spoiled child who kicks and screams because he cannot get his own way. I will ascertain whether or not your demands are reasonable, but I suspect that if they had been so, Nakht-sobek would have been pleased to accommodate you. Do you think that your uniqueness gives you the right to bully your administrators, the men chosen to serve Egypt for their wit and knowledge? Do you think that Ma’at approves of your high-handed behaviour? Menkhoper your tutor and Heqarneneh your nurse taught you better. So did I.”
Amunhotep had gone white under his face paint. Holding his furious gaze, Huy was still able to glimpse the rigid tendons in the royal wrist as the King gripped the back of the gilded throne. Mutemwia said nothing, yet Huy knew that her hidden tension matched his own.
“Majesty, do you know how many uten and deben’s weight in gold dust and nuggets rest in the Royal Treasury under Nakht-sobek’s excellent protection? Lapis, jasper, ivory, turquoise, ebony, silver?”
Amunhotep’s eyes became angry slits. “No.”
“But your Treasurer does. Could it be that he is doing his duty in the caution with which he guards it?”
“But it’s mine. All of it. Everything in the Treasury. Everything in Egypt. Every cow, every sheaf of corn, every ell of linen, every man, woman, and child—mine. Even you, Great Seer, belong to me.” He folded his arms. “My power is supreme. And all I have to do is summon Wesi, the Head Bowman of the Lord of the Two Lands, to have you shot full of arrows.”
Huy stared at him in shock. Now the boy was trying to grip his upper arms, but his hands were shaking. So was his outward breath. This is not about me or the Treasurer , Huy realized suddenly. Something else is wrong . He met Mutemwia’s gaze. The Queen raised her eyebrows.
“You are King under the laws of Ma’at, like every one of us, Amunhotep,” Huy said, doing his best to keep his voice even. “Egypt is not a private playground where you may indulge every whim. You know this. I have loved you since you first came to visit me on my estate in Hut-herib. Your aides and ministers do your bidding because you are Horus, and their respect will be slowly coupled with love if you show them that you intend to rule with wisdom and compassion. I believe that this is indeed your wish. What is distressing you so greatly? Your Mother and I can help you.”
Amunhotep’s head went down. With an uncharacteristic clumsiness he fumbled for the arm of the throne, stepped in front of Huy, and lowered himself onto the seat, gripping his naked thighs. At once Mutemwia moved to kneel in front of him. Huy bent beside her.
“Forgive me, Majesty Mother, Uncle Huy,” he said unsteadily. “I’m not really angry. I’m afraid, and my fear has found a ready target in Nakht-sobek. Maani-nekhtef brought me a scroll early this morning. My blood-uncle Amunhotep arrives in Mennofer tomorrow.” His hands rose in a gesture of uncertainty. “I was a baby when he went into exile because my father and grandfather plotted to disenfranchise him, perhaps even murder him if he had remained in Egypt, so that my father could take his place as the Horus-in-the-Nest. Now he returns. His claim to the Horus Throne is indisputable and I am still only twelve, a fledgling with my Mother as my Regent for the next four years. I am very vulnerable.” The face
Huy glanced about. No one but the Queen was within earshot. “Amunhotep, you know exactly what’s wrong,” he said, deliberately using the boy’s name rather than one of his titles. “You are behaving like a spoiled child who kicks and screams because he cannot get his own way. I will ascertain whether or not your demands are reasonable, but I suspect that if they had been so, Nakht-sobek would have been pleased to accommodate you. Do you think that your uniqueness gives you the right to bully your administrators, the men chosen to serve Egypt for their wit and knowledge? Do you think that Ma’at approves of your high-handed behaviour? Menkhoper your tutor and Heqarneneh your nurse taught you better. So did I.”
Amunhotep had gone white under his face paint. Holding his furious gaze, Huy was still able to glimpse the rigid tendons in the royal wrist as the King gripped the back of the gilded throne. Mutemwia said nothing, yet Huy knew that her hidden tension matched his own.
“Majesty, do you know how many uten and deben’s weight in gold dust and nuggets rest in the Royal Treasury under Nakht-sobek’s excellent protection? Lapis, jasper, ivory, turquoise, ebony, silver?”
Amunhotep’s eyes became angry slits. “No.”
“But your Treasurer does. Could it be that he is doing his duty in the caution with which he guards it?”
“But it’s mine. All of it. Everything in the Treasury. Everything in Egypt. Every cow, every sheaf of corn, every ell of linen, every man, woman, and child—mine. Even you, Great Seer, belong to me.” He folded his arms. “My power is supreme. And all I have to do is summon Wesi, the Head Bowman of the Lord of the Two Lands, to have you shot full of arrows.”
Huy stared at him in shock. Now the boy was trying to grip his upper arms, but his hands were shaking. So was his outward breath. This is not about me or the Treasurer , Huy realized suddenly. Something else is wrong . He met Mutemwia’s gaze. The Queen raised her eyebrows.
“You are King under the laws of Ma’at, like every one of us, Amunhotep,” Huy said, doing his best to keep his voice even. “Egypt is not a private playground where you may indulge every whim. You know this. I have loved you since you first came to visit me on my estate in Hut-herib. Your aides and ministers do your bidding because you are Horus, and their respect will be slowly coupled with love if you show them that you intend to rule with wisdom and compassion. I believe that this is indeed your wish. What is distressing you so greatly? Your Mother and I can help you.”
Amunhotep’s head went down. With an uncharacteristic clumsiness he fumbled for the arm of the throne, stepped in front of Huy, and lowered himself onto the seat, gripping his naked thighs. At once Mutemwia moved to kneel in front of him. Huy bent beside her.
“Forgive me, Majesty Mother, Uncle Huy,” he said unsteadily. “I’m not really angry. I’m afraid, and my fear has found a ready target in Nakht-sobek. Maani-nekhtef brought me a scroll early this morning. My blood-uncle Amunhotep arrives in Mennofer tomorrow.” His hands rose in a gesture of uncertainty. “I was a baby when he went into exile because my father and grandfather plotted to disenfranchise him, perhaps even murder him if he had remained in Egypt, so that my father could take his place as the Horus-in-the-Nest. Now he returns. His claim to the Horus Throne is indisputable and I am still only twelve, a fledgling with my Mother as my Regent for the next four years. I am very vulnerable.” The face
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