Out of the Black Land - By Kerry Greenwood Page 0,93

there and there he stays until the Lord Akhnaten may he live releases him.’

‘It is no use asking my sister Nefertiti may she live for she is completely immersed in her husband’s religion and would never go against his wishes. I will be back in an hour,’ she said, putting back her long black ringlets and straightening her cloth.

‘What are you intending to do?’

‘I’ll tell you if it works. Meanwhile, my dear Ptah-hotep, drink the infusion I left you and sleep. I will be back, if it works or not,’ she assured me, and was gone in a scent of galbanum. She walked like a countrywoman, a solid, firm, decisive stride, with a swing of the buttocks.

Khety and I looked at each other. He shrugged. I drank the infusion.

Barely an hour later—daylight hours are longer, of course, in Peret—she was back. I was sitting up by then, remarkably lazy and sleepy, and I could tell from her triumphant smile that she had achieved her aim. Behind her came a slim young man with the white bands on his ankles which indicate that copper fetters have just been struck off. He was naked and newly cleansed and Meryt sat him down and supplied him with a cup of beer, pieces of bread and meat and a clean loincloth.

‘Here is Keliya, Prince of Mittani,’ Mutnodjme introduced him. ‘He wished to write to his father to complain about his treatment, but I have explained matters to him so that now he wishes to take up his residence, awarded to him by the King Akhnaten may he live. The Great Royal Scribe is requested to report to his father that he is well and happy and will attend the sed festival in Tushratta’s place.’

The bewildered young prince stretched out a hand to Khety, called him brother, and wept a few tears before addressing himself to the beer and the food. Keliya seemed otherwise well, had not been beaten and, apart from being hungry, was undamaged.

Hanufer wrote the letter for him, and he sealed it with his seal ring. Then the lady Mutnodjme opened the outer door to reveal a litter decorated with feathers, ten servants who cried out with joy on seeing him, and four strong bearers. The litter was loaded with gold, jewellery, and a pile of folded cloths to replace the Prince’s lost wardrobe.

Prince Keliya left, kissing Khety in the Mittani way and bending right down to kiss the bare foot of the lady Mutnodjme. If she had engineered his release, she deserved it. It was more than Khety or I had managed.

‘There, my lord, that is one worry the less,’ she said briskly as the entourage left. I waited until they were definitely gone and we were alone in the bed-chamber before I demanded,

‘How did you do it?’

She eased me back into her lap—she had offered her thighs as a pillow for my head—and replied softly, ‘It was the Widow-Queen Tiye. She told her son that his action had been justified but now he must restore the prince to his position in time for the sed festival; and he obeyed her instantly, like a calf obeys a cow. I thought that it might be so,’ she said.

‘Now, my lord, you must sleep,’ she ordered, and who was I to disobey this masterful woman?

I closed my eyes and slept.

Chapter Seventeen

Mutnodjme

Time passed. I knew that Widow-Queen Tiye may she live was willing to help in mitigating the effects of her son’s fanaticism after the release of the Prince of Mitanni. The King did not visit his mother often, for fear of what she might say.

Every tenth day treasure was distributed to the inhabitants of Amarna, every day the sun-disc was worshipped according to the King’s ritual, and the Nile did not flood, and the land grew drier, as though ousted Amen-Re was angry with us on behalf of Hapi, God of the Nile.

At the beginning of Tybi, Merope and I were inducted into the mysteries of the Phoenix.

Nefertiti came for us before dawn, a time when sensible people are still asleep. She led us in darkness to a door in the Queen’s Palace which gave onto a set of steps and we groped our way down, for apparently no light must penetrate the place of the Phoenix before Aten’s own rays.

In that case it might have been wiser to leave the initiation until after dawn, I thought, but I said nothing. Meekness was my name and butter would not have melted in my