torch!”
“No!” he said again. A flash of lighter color against the cliff caught the older man's eye; a papyrus fragment pinned to the rock by the wind. The sight made the breath catch in the back of his throat as he thought once more of deep-buried, perilous things, long hidden in the darkness, brought back terribly to life by those who dug too deeply in the debris of the past.
He shook the thought from his mind and took the three steps that brought him out, overlooking the city. Gold, his son had said. Gold for the taking, gold to make them all wealthier even than they were. It only needed to be taken from the walls. By others, not by him. Never by him.
III
THE CITY OF KHEMNU
Reign of Horemheb, Year 13
The sun glinted from brown flesh, brightly dyed cloth and jewelry of burnished metals and many colored faience. The air was heavy with the scent of flowers and food cooked especially for the occasion. The city of Khemnu had turned out to witness the arrival of the force from Memphis, bound for the ruined city of Akhet-Aten under the command of Lord Nebamun. He was second in power only to the High Priest of Ptah. The worship of Ptah, the chief god of the ancient city of Memphis, was powerful in Egypt.
Khonsu, Commander of the Army of the Fifteenth Province of Egypt, stood at the entrance to the palace of the Governor, awaiting the arrival of the priestly party, his mind awhirl with plans and a touch of unease.
“So the Governor told you only last week,” said Kheti, his second-in-command. “Hard luck for you, being assigned to escort His Grace to that ghost town with your little girl so sick still, and your wife—” He flushed and fell silent.
Khonsu shrugged with a good imitation of nonchalance. He was a dark-eyed man in his mid-thirties, with quirky brows and a mouth bracketed by lines of laughter. His expression was grim at the moment. “His Lordship has reasons for everything,” he said. “It's fitting for me to escort such an important visitor.” He paused, remembering the deserted city lying shadowed and ominous in its bowl of land by the river.
“I wonder what he's like,” said Kheti.
“I tried to investigate his background when I was given this assignment,” Khonsu said. “He can't be traced through his name or his patronymic: Nebamun and Nakht are too common. It's impossible to sort them out. From my information, the man appeared to be Upper Egyptian. He must have been in the army at one time: he's known to be an excellent charioteer and a master archer. I wonder how he came to be at the temple of Ptah.”
Kheti frowned and shook his head.
“He's the High Priest's son-in-law and heir,” Khonsu said. “If he's leading this expedition, the High Priest must consider the venture important enough to require the supervision of a close kinsman.” As he frequently did since given this assignment, Khonsu wondered again about what exactly was so vital about this mysterious mission.
The cheers increased with the approaching roar of trumpets and the throb of drums.
A carefully groomed child, standing by the roadside and clutching a huge armful of lotuses and marguerites, shifted his feet and stared down along the road.
Khonsu gazed with unseeing eyes as he reviewed his assignment once more. Puzzle was piled upon puzzle, and he could not shake off a strange premonition about this entire expedition. They were going to the Heretic's deserted city. Khonsu had been raised on tales of horror centering on the place. The Heretic's cousin and Vizier, another Nakht, had presided over the dismantling of some of its larger buildings in the second year of Tutankhamun's reign. Prince Nakht, facing scandal and ruin, killed himself at Akhet-Aten. The dismantling was abandoned after his death. Khonsu was certain a fair amount of treasure had been left behind..
Khonsu’s assignment was to escort the Second Prophet and his retinue to the abandoned city. He had two weeks to select the soldiers he judged
“No!” he said again. A flash of lighter color against the cliff caught the older man's eye; a papyrus fragment pinned to the rock by the wind. The sight made the breath catch in the back of his throat as he thought once more of deep-buried, perilous things, long hidden in the darkness, brought back terribly to life by those who dug too deeply in the debris of the past.
He shook the thought from his mind and took the three steps that brought him out, overlooking the city. Gold, his son had said. Gold for the taking, gold to make them all wealthier even than they were. It only needed to be taken from the walls. By others, not by him. Never by him.
III
THE CITY OF KHEMNU
Reign of Horemheb, Year 13
The sun glinted from brown flesh, brightly dyed cloth and jewelry of burnished metals and many colored faience. The air was heavy with the scent of flowers and food cooked especially for the occasion. The city of Khemnu had turned out to witness the arrival of the force from Memphis, bound for the ruined city of Akhet-Aten under the command of Lord Nebamun. He was second in power only to the High Priest of Ptah. The worship of Ptah, the chief god of the ancient city of Memphis, was powerful in Egypt.
Khonsu, Commander of the Army of the Fifteenth Province of Egypt, stood at the entrance to the palace of the Governor, awaiting the arrival of the priestly party, his mind awhirl with plans and a touch of unease.
“So the Governor told you only last week,” said Kheti, his second-in-command. “Hard luck for you, being assigned to escort His Grace to that ghost town with your little girl so sick still, and your wife—” He flushed and fell silent.
Khonsu shrugged with a good imitation of nonchalance. He was a dark-eyed man in his mid-thirties, with quirky brows and a mouth bracketed by lines of laughter. His expression was grim at the moment. “His Lordship has reasons for everything,” he said. “It's fitting for me to escort such an important visitor.” He paused, remembering the deserted city lying shadowed and ominous in its bowl of land by the river.
“I wonder what he's like,” said Kheti.
“I tried to investigate his background when I was given this assignment,” Khonsu said. “He can't be traced through his name or his patronymic: Nebamun and Nakht are too common. It's impossible to sort them out. From my information, the man appeared to be Upper Egyptian. He must have been in the army at one time: he's known to be an excellent charioteer and a master archer. I wonder how he came to be at the temple of Ptah.”
Kheti frowned and shook his head.
“He's the High Priest's son-in-law and heir,” Khonsu said. “If he's leading this expedition, the High Priest must consider the venture important enough to require the supervision of a close kinsman.” As he frequently did since given this assignment, Khonsu wondered again about what exactly was so vital about this mysterious mission.
The cheers increased with the approaching roar of trumpets and the throb of drums.
A carefully groomed child, standing by the roadside and clutching a huge armful of lotuses and marguerites, shifted his feet and stared down along the road.
Khonsu gazed with unseeing eyes as he reviewed his assignment once more. Puzzle was piled upon puzzle, and he could not shake off a strange premonition about this entire expedition. They were going to the Heretic's deserted city. Khonsu had been raised on tales of horror centering on the place. The Heretic's cousin and Vizier, another Nakht, had presided over the dismantling of some of its larger buildings in the second year of Tutankhamun's reign. Prince Nakht, facing scandal and ruin, killed himself at Akhet-Aten. The dismantling was abandoned after his death. Khonsu was certain a fair amount of treasure had been left behind..
Khonsu’s assignment was to escort the Second Prophet and his retinue to the abandoned city. He had two weeks to select the soldiers he judged
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