II
Now we have begun, we must finish; it is no use crying over sour milk, as an intelligent girl said once, having done something that could not be put right," said Ay, a court dignitary, and everyone laughed.
"How soon will the decree for destroying the gods be published?" Tuta asked.
"In ten days or so," Parennofer, the Keeper of the King's Seal, replied.
"Couldn't we hurry it? It will be the beginning, you know...." Tuta said.
"It may be the beginning of such things that nothing will be left of us," muttered Ahmes, the superintendent of the king's household.
"What is it you are afraid of?" Tuta asked.
"Oh, anything! It's no joke going against the gods...."
"Well, the gods can fend for themselves, but we must think of our own skins. In this accursed hole, Aton's province, we are like mice in a trap—there is no way of escape. They will slaughter us like sheep when the levelling begins."
"What levelling?"
"Don't you know? The king thinks of nothing but making the rich and the poor equal. But what if the mob does rise up in earnest?"
"No, I am not particularly afraid of the mob," Ahmes replied. "The mob may very likely be on our side, but our own sort, the officials, will cut off our noses in a trice."
"'Better have a head without a nose than a nose without a head,' as a smart fellow said who had had his nose cut off," Ay said, and everyone laughed again.
"And what are we to do with Saakera?" Parennofer asked.
"Nothing at all; his Ethiopian woman will deal with him," Ay answered.
Saakera, the heir-apparent, had three hundred and sixty-five wives, according to the number of days in the year, one more beautiful than the other, but he was said to prefer to them all an old, hideous and bad-tempered Ethiopian who, so the rumour ran, used to box his ears and do what she liked with him.
"One can't trust anyone," Ahmes concluded, looking round at them all suspiciously. "Do you remember the words of King Amenemhet? 'Do not trust your brother, do not commune with your friend, for in the day of fear no one will stand by you. I gave alms to the poor and bread to the hungry; but he who ate my bread lifted his heel against me.' And someone else, too, has said rather cleverly 'where there are six conspirators, there is one traitor.'"
They all looked at one another in silence: there were more than six of them.
They were on the top floor of Tuta's summer-house, which had just been built but was not yet inhabited; no one could disturb them there: the garden surrounding it was under water during the flooding of the Nile, so that the house had to be approached by boat.
On meeting each guest, Tuta led him to the washing-stand, then showed him to a seat on the wide and low couch that ran the whole length of the room and was covered with carpets, offered him the fragrant cup for the head and moved towards him the stand with cooling drinks in Tintyrian vessels of porous clay.
The night was dark and hot, a hot wind smelling of water, river mud and fish, blew in sudden gusts; it set up its mournful song, that sounded like a wolf's howl or a child's cry, somewhere very far-off—at the end of the world, it seemed—then drew nearer and nearer and suddenly came in a fearful gust, whistling, squealing, roaring and moaning furiously, and stopped as suddenly; all that could be heard was the splash of water against the walls of the house and the rustle of palm leaves like a whisper behind the windows.
During one of these quiet intervals the door opened noiselessly and a huge black cat, half-panther, walked in like a shadow. Going up to Tuta it began rubbing itself against his legs, purring loudly. He got up to shut the door when Merira came in.
Tuta ran forward to meet him and was going to bow down to the ground before the high priest of Amon; but Merira embraced him and kissed him on the mouth. Tuta offered him the seat of honour, but Merira sat down on the floor beside him, slowly looked at them all and said, with a quiet smile:
"Go on, gentlemen, I listen."
"It is for you to speak, father; it shall be as you say," Tuta replied.
"No, decide for yourselves. Do all know what we have met for?"
"Yes."
"Well, then there is nothing more to say."
"It is no use crying over sour milk," Ay repeated, adding, after a pause, "It is better that one man should die for all than that the whole people should perish."
"Who will give him the cup?" Merira asked.
"Three people can give it him in virtue of our office, you, I or Tuta," Ay answered. "Hadn't we better draw lots?"
The cat looking at the narrow stone-trellised chink-like window, right under the ceiling, was mewing savagely. Suddenly it made a huge leap across the room like a real panther, jumped up to the window, and holding on to the stone bars with its claws, thrust its head against it and tried to put its paw through, but could not: the trellis was too close. Mewing still more furiously and plaintively it jumped to the floor and rushed about the room, its black body smooth and slippery like a snake.
"What's the matter with the cat?" Merira asked. "Has it gone mad? See the way it bares its teeth! And its eyes glow like candles. Ugh, the devil! Fancy keeping a reptile like that in the house. Take care Tuta—it will go for your throat one day when you are asleep!"
"I expect it smells someone," said Ay, looking at the window.
"But who can be there? There is water all round—no one could get through. A bird or a monkey perhaps," said Tuta.
The wind that had just been roaring stopped again suddenly and everything was so still that one could hear the water splashing against the walls of the house and the palm leaves rustling.
"Perhaps it's they?" Parennofer whispered, turning pale.
"Who?" Tuta asked.
"The restless. It's not for nothing they desecrate the tombs nowadays. They say there are a lot of evil spirits going about at night."
"Oh please, please don't talk about it!" Tuta implored, his stomach beginning to ache with fear.
"Drive it away, I beg you," Merira cried, with disgust.
Tuta seized the cat by the collar and tried to drag it out of the room. But it would not go and he was scarcely able to master it; at last, however he succeeded, and bolted the door behind it. But the cat went on scratching and mewing outside the room.
"Let me see, what were we talking about?" Merira began again.
"About casting lots," Tuta reminded him.
"Yes. I don't know how it strikes you, gentlemen, but it seems to me that it is unworthy of intelligent men to be the slaves of chance. Let us decide freely. Ay, do you want to give the poison? No? Tuta? Nor you either? Very well, then I will."
In the depths of the room there was an altar of bronze with a folding wooden image of King Akhnaton sacrificing to the Sun god. Merira went up to it, took the image and hit it against the corner of the bronze altar so violently that it broke in two.
"Woe to thy enemies, O Lord! Their dwelling place is in darkness and the rest of the earth in thy light; the sun of them that hate thee is darkened and the sun of them that love thee is rising. Death to Akhnaton Uaenra, the apostate!"
All repeated, joining hands over the altar:
"Death to the apostate!"
Merira led Tuta by the hand to the armchair and making him sit in it, said:
"The high priest of God on high, Amon-Ra, the king over all other gods, the prophet of all the gods of the south and the north, the great seer of the sky, Urma Ptamose, commanded me, on his death-bed, to elect king of all the earth Tutankhamon, the son of King Nebmaar Amenhotep, the son of Horus. Do you all agree, men and brethren?"
"We agree. Long live Tutankhamon, King of Egypt!"
Neferhepera, the master of the king's wardrobe, gave Merira a golden serpent of the Sun, Uta.
"By the power given me of God, I crown thee King of Egypt," Merira said, placing it on Tuta's head.
"Long live the King!" they all cried, prostrating themselves.
Merira's face was suddenly distorted.
"The cat again!" he whispered, looking into a dark corner of the room.
"The cat? Where?" Tuta asked, looking quickly about him.
"There, in the corner, do you see?"
"There is nothing there."
"No, there is not. I must have fancied it."
He moved his hand across his face and smiled.
"Zahi, Heheki—they are winged panthers, with a falcon's head, a human face on the back, a budding lotos instead of a tail and a belly covered with sharp teats like the teeth of a saw. They say there are a lot of these unclean creatures prowling about at night.... But perhaps they don't exist? Old women's tales .... Heheki, heheki," he laughed suddenly, with a laugh so dreadful that Tuta felt a shiver running down his back.
"There, there, again, look! But this time it is not a cat—it is he, Uaenra! Do you see what a face he has—worn out, old, eternal. If a man had suffered for a thousand years in hell and then came back again, he would have a face like that ... he looks at me and laughs—he knows I want to kill him but he thinks I won't dare.... But wait a bit, I'll show you!"
He staggered and almost fell. They all rushed to him and would have bled him, but he had already recovered. His face was almost calm; only the corners of his mouth quivered and his lips were twisted into a smile.
All of a sudden there was a frantic squealing and howling outside the window; the leaves rustled and something fell into the water with a heavy splash.
They all ran to the ground floor hall which gave on to the garden and saw the cat floating on the water with its belly ripped open.
"It's a bad business," Ay said.
"Why!" Merira asked.
"Someone has been eavesdropping."
"What of it?"
"What of it? Why, he will tell the king."
"Let him. I know the king better than you do: he might hear with his own ears, see with his own eyes and yet not believe. He would hand the spy over to us."
"Hadn't we better put it off," Tuta began timidly; the fright had given him such a stomach-ache that he could hardly stand and could not spare a thought even for his beloved Ruru.
"Let's put it off! Let us!" everyone said.
"Cowards, scoundrels, traitors!" Merira cried in a fury. "If you put it off, I will inform against you!"
"But we are thinking of you, Merira," Ay said. "You are ill, you ought to look after yourself...."
"Here is my medicine!" Merira cried, pointing to the poison ring that glittered on his finger. "It shall be as we decided: all will be over in three days' time!"