correct, Mistress of the House,’ said Menna. ‘If that form means ‘lion’ then the determinative is here, ‘the lion’ meaning the sole and only one, the royal lion. Hmm. Tushratta has written to the Widow-Queen Tiye, master,’ he said to me. ‘It is a difficult passage with many possible meanings. But this is what Harmose and I think it means—with some help from the Mistress,’ he nodded at Mutnodjme.
‘So, what says Tushratta?’
‘To the Mistress of Egypt, Royal Queen Tiye Whom the Royal Lord Akhnaten Loves, Greeting,’ deciphered Menna. ‘The situation of the royal lion is grave, for do not his enemies surge against him like the sea? Do not the birds scorn him, screaming insults into the ears of the King? Send therefore some wise counsel to the lion, lest he be overthrown and his kingdom lost.’
‘Cryptic,’ I said. ‘But one grasps the meaning.’
‘Does one? What does it mean? Who are these birds?’ asked Mutnodjme.
‘Khatti’s banners are always painted with an eagle, ‘I told her. ‘King Suppiluliumas of Khatti is young and ambitious and the only way he can expand is into Tushratta’s territory, because of his neighbours. The Apiru are dangerously unstable, the Babylonians well-organised, the Assyrians very aggressive and the borders of Egypt are guarded. In any case he could only get to the Assyrians through Mittani. Suppiluliumas is taking a huge risk, however, if he is attacking Tushratta. That king has forgotten more about diplomacy, treachery and extortion than Suppiluliumas has ever known, or his father before him. Is there any other way you can read this but for a request for arms?’
‘He’s asked for “wise counsel”, my lord,’ Mutnodjme pointed out.
‘Look at the sign next to it,’ Menna touched the clay tablet with his old, clean hands. ‘See that sign? It means counsel, but it has a secondary meaning.’
‘What is that?’ she asked, leaning close to see and rendering me dizzy with her scent.
‘It means “spear”,’ said Harmose. ‘And written like that, it means a hundred spears.’
‘I see. Clearly this diplomacy is a study for a hundred lifetimes.’
‘Indeed,’ Menna smiled at her. ‘What shall we do, lord Ptah-hotep may you live?’ he asked.
‘We must tell the Widow-Queen,’ I said. ‘We have a treaty with Tushratta and mutual defence was one of the first sentences. We are required to go to his aid if he asks for it.’
‘There have been three letters prior to this one,’ Menna said uncomfortably. ‘The King came in one day when we were working on the translations and took them away with him, saying that his Master of the House would deal with them.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ I demanded, seriously worried. The Aten alone knew what the King might have done with a demand for aid, let alone Huy the unreliable.
‘The King said not to bother you with such matters,’ Menna was equally uncomfortable. ‘So we assumed that it was taken care of. And now here is Tushratta writing to the Queen Tiye may she live so he must have received no answer.’
‘Don’t make such an assumption again, my scribes, if you love the Black Land. And make sure I know what is going on. How can I make political decisions if I am not fully informed?’ They seemed suitably abashed and it was not their fault, so I stopped berating them and thought.
‘Let the Lady Mutnodjme take the letter to the Widow-Queen,’ Menna proposed. ‘She is wise and discreet.’
‘I will certainly do that gladly, Master Scribe. She needs something to occupy her mind, but what can the Queen do if she wants to send troops to Tushratta? All the soldiers are coming here,’ replied Mutnodjme.
She was right. By order of the King Akhnaten may he live as many serving soldiers who could be summoned were converging on Amarna to receive new orders from the King. Only the very farthest borders were left garrisoned, and that only because General Horemheb had insisted and the Widow-Queen had backed his orders with her own. And if Khatti took Mittani, we would have a victorious foe on our border and no army to repel an advance.
‘Tushratta must live or die, may his gods protect him,’ I said despairingly, ‘for there is no help we can send him.’
Chapter Nineteen
Mutnodjme
The sed festival feast was engrossing.
My sister Nefertiti had clearly not been told of the death of the little princess, or else she was unaffected by it. She was dressed in a gauze gown so sheer that one could see her perfect body and rounded limbs through