Out of the Black Land - By Kerry Greenwood Page 0,67

announced that he was changing his name and would henceforth be known as Akhnaten; and that in his new city there would be no feast of Amen-Re at the New Year?

Ptah-hotep

Many people came to visit us over the next two days. The report was written, with Kheperren’s reluctance to declare his own bravery overcome, mostly by main force—by which I mean that Hanufer sat on him while Bakhenmut made a fair copy of the report and gave it to Khety to copy five times, and I sealed it. It was then an official document and it would have been treason to meddle with it or erase so much as a line. This was explained to Kheperren with due solemnity and he agreed to allow the report to go to Horemheb and the King without emendation.

The holidays were always marked with a round of visiting and a lot of eating and drinking, and Kheperren and I wandered from gathering to gathering, arriving when we wished and departing when we felt like it. I had never drunk so much in my life, but consoled my conscience with the notion that soon I would be back at work; and then my mind shied away from the thought that Kheperren must leave me again at the end of the twelve days. He must go with the captains and depart into the waste, and risk his life every day, a life so precious to me that I did not know if I could live without him.

However, we were enjoying our leisure. The palace was loud with the noise of parties, the stink of lamps and the cloud of perfumes; wine, roasting, melting fat as the scent-cones dripped oil down the faces and wigs of the guests. We were lurching down a corridor, arms around each other, in the middle of the second night, and Kheperren was saying how difficult navigation was in the half dark when we almost fell into the arms of Horemheb and an old man.

We dropped as soon as we saw who it was with the brave captain, and kissed his sandal toes. I tried to force my wine-soaked wits to remember the proper forms of address but I was hauled up by the shoulder before I could get through half of the titles of Amenhotep the King, may he live forever.

He was regarding us with very shrewd dark brown eyes. I leaned on Kheperren and he leaned on me and together we remained more or less upright. Horemheb said, lips twitching, ‘Here is the Great Royal Scribe of your Royal Son, Master, and my brave army scribe.’

‘Come with us,’ said the King, and we followed him into a little antechamber, past two ranks of soldiers. There a woman sat nursing a child. It was Great Royal Wife Queen Tiye, the red-headed woman, and she smiled indulgently upon us and called for wine mixed with water and plain bread with sesame seed, reputed to be good for hangovers. We sagged down onto a precious carpet before the King’s feet and Horemheb took a chair.

‘I am always pleased to talk with chance-met companions,’ said the King slowly, making sure that his words penetrated even the most wine-sodden skull. ‘It would not be proper for me to interfere in my son’s household, of course, but I admit I was curious about this young scribe, especially since the Great Royal Lady tells me that he deals most impartially with the matters she sends.’

I had investigated the farmer’s complaints, discounted ten percent for exaggeration and found a case to answer. The Headman was now awaiting trial for oppression and theft, though what would probably seal his fate was defrauding the King’s taxes. The new Headman would be required to watch his predecessor’s execution, which should ensure exemplary rule in that village for a generation or so. Since then the Queen had seen fit to send me three or four other matters, which I was considering.

Not that I was capable of considering all that much at the moment. Kheperren, always a happy drunk, was showing a tendency to giggle, and I felt as though every thought had to be dredged up as from a deep well. When the wine-and-water came, I took some deep draughts and ate some bitter herbs, which the slave had also brought. They were the dark green nettle which we call gallus, a strong restorative. I felt slightly sick, but clearer in the head. The King looked approvingly on me and smiled.

I could

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