Pharaoh Page 22

  The silence that followed was utter and complete. It was as if the whole world held its breath, and then as one released it in a cry of terrible dismay, a mighty keen of mourning as though the world had lost its father. Utteric’s military staff rushed forward. They were headed up by General Panmasi and a number of his other sycophants and toadies. One of them produced a blanket in which they wrapped up the body, making no effort to remove the flint arrowhead from Utteric’s vitals, or the armour that masked his head and torso.

  Then a dozen of them hefted the corpse and carried it down the stairs that led from the podium to the stone-walled building below. The band started to play a lament. The masses seemed confused and uncertain how they should react. Some of them were weeping and wailing ostentatiously, and tearing out fistfuls of their own hair. However, many of them were having difficulty containing their joy. They were trying to hide it with the skirts of their robes and by rubbing their eyes vigorously to make their tears flow.

  I was perhaps one of the few in that multitude who was truly saddened to see Utteric killed. I hugged both Rameses and Serrena to me for my own solace, but I was not far from sincere and heartfelt tears.

  ‘It should never have ended like this,’ I whispered to them. ‘Utteric has escaped the punishment he deserved for his cruelty and monstrous evil.’

  On the other hand Rameses was elated. ‘At least he is gone, once and forever.’ Of course, he was next in line to the throne of Pharaoh. ‘I wonder who it was that shot the arrow. I should like to give him my sincere thanks and reward him for his courage.’

  There was a movement amongst the crowds; hesitantly and uncertainly they edged towards the exit gates. The three of us joined them. However, we did not get very far before we were confronted by the armed guards stationed there. Their harsh commands carried clearly to where we were shuffling along wedged in by the multitudes.

  ‘Back! All of you must remain in your seats. Nobody is to leave the stadium until the assassin is found.’ They reversed their spears and with the shafts prodded and drove the crowds back from the gates. ‘We know who it was that shot the arrow that killed Pharaoh Utteric the invincible.’

  Grumbling and protesting we moved back to our original positions.

  Serrena sat close to me. Her face was turned away from Rameses, who was still complaining to his neighbour on his far side. She spoke softly, barely moving her lips. Her voice was just audible to me. ‘It was not him,’ she said.

  ‘I don’t understand. Who wasn’t who?’ I asked just as softly, taking my cue from her.

  ‘That figure in gold armour wasn’t Utteric. It was not Utteric who was arrowed,’ she repeated. ‘That was an impersonator, a double.’

  ‘How do you know that? He was completely masked.’ I seized her arm and drew her closer. I felt a surge of relief that I might still be able to have my retribution on the living Utteric.

  ‘I saw his right hand,’ Serrena said simply.

  ‘I still don’t understand,’ I protested. ‘What does his hand have to do—?’ I broke off my protest and stared at her. I am not usually so slow. ‘You recognized that the hand we saw with the glove removed was not Utteric’s?’

  ‘Exactly!’ she answered me. ‘Utteric has smooth unblemished hands. Almost like those of a young girl. He is inordinately proud of them. His intimates say that he washes them in coconut milk three times a day.’

  ‘How do you know this, Serrena?’ I persisted. ‘When did you get to study his hands?’

  ‘Every time he raised them to hit me in my face. Whenever he tried to twist my nose off. Every time he dug his fingers into my vagina or thrust them up my anus to make his pretty boyfriends giggle,’ she said bitterly, her tone emphasizing her lingering outrage. ‘The man in the golden mask who was struck down by that arrow had rough and calloused hands, like those of a farmer. It was not Utteric.’

  ‘Yes, what you say makes good sense. But I am sorry that I made you reveal such intimate and disgusting details of the humiliation he inflicted upon you.’

  ‘Just as long as Rameses does not learn about what they did to me. I would not want him to know that. Promise me that you will never tell him.’

  ‘I give you my solemn promise.’ I knew the words were trite, but I squeezed her hand hard to give them weight.

  We waited one hour and then another. The only relief, for what it was worth, were the solemn dirges played endlessly by the band to mourn Pharaoh’s passing. By that time muttering amongst the crowd had turned to anger. I heard remarks made openly that bordered upon treason. Now that Pharaoh was dead those citizens who were usually very careful of expressing their opinions of him were much less discreet.

  Then suddenly and unexpectedly the band changed its tune into bright and joyous music, in contrast to that which they had previously been playing. The muttering amongst the crowds dwindled to bemused silence. I could see the men and women who during the past two hours had expressed intemperate opinions regarding Pharaoh and his death looking about them anxiously, trying to judge who else had heard them, and regretting their words.

  General Panmasi and four other high-ranked officers in Pharaoh’s army marched together up the stairs from the building below to where only two hours previously they had carried Pharaoh’s blanket-wrapped corpse. The band welcomed them with a sprightly fanfare as the five of them stood shoulder to shoulder at the front of the podium. When the band at last fell silent General Panmasi stepped forward and began to speak through the voice trumpet which he carried. With this instrument his voice carried across the parade ground. Other more junior military officers were stationed at intervals to relay Panmasi’s speech to those near the rear of the crowd.

  ‘Loyal and true citizens of mighty Egypt, I bear joyous tidings for you. Our well-beloved Pharaoh Utteric, whom we all saw struck down by a traitor’s arrow, has proved true to his appellation of the Invincible. He has cheated death! He is with us still! He lives on eternally.’

  A doubtful silence greeted this revelation. They had all seen the arrow that transfixed Utteric’s corpse. They had seen with their own eyes that it was a mortal strike. They were wary that this was some sort of ruse to make them betray themselves. They cast their eyes down and shuffled their feet, trying to avoid exchanging glances with their neighbours or making any other incriminating gesture.

  Panmasi turned back to the head of the stairway and fell to his knees in obeisance. The other four senior officers immediately followed his example, beating their foreheads on the planking of the podium.

  The same figure in armour of gold that we had seen earlier being carried away in a blood-soaked blanket now emerged from the stairwell. He walked tall, proud and bold. He showed no evidence of the fatal wound that had been inflicted upon him, except for the smears of dried blood on his armour and the gaping hole that had been torn in the front of his golden cuirass by the assassin’s arrow. He marched to the front of the podium and lifted his helmet from his head to reveal the veritable features of Pharaoh Utteric that the populace had come to recognize so well.

  The same persons in the crowd who had earlier covertly applauded his death now prostrated themselves with loyal fervour, wriggling like puppies and mouthing their extravagant joy at his miraculous return from the dead.

  Utteric surveyed them haughtily; his features – enhanced by the make-up he wore – were proud, sneering and effeminately pretty. He was obviously enjoying their wild adulation. At last he held up his hands for silence.

  I whispered to Serrena, ‘You were quite right. He does have girlish hands.’

  She nodded at me in agreement.

  ‘Who was it that was killed by the arrow?’ I wondered.

  ‘We will never know,’ Serrena assured me. ‘He is already burned to ashes, or deep in the Nile with weights attached to his feet.’ And then she shushed me to silence with the rest of the congregation as Pharaoh began to speak.

  ‘My beloved people, my loyal subjects, I have come back to you! I have returned from the
dark place to which I was sent by the assassin’s arrow.’ The crowds roared their joy at his survival. Then Pharaoh held up his hands once more and they fell silent immediately.

  ‘Now we all know that there are traitors abroad!’ Utteric continued with his voice turning suddenly accusing and angry. ‘There are those who plotted my assassination and tried to carry out their evil designs.’ The masses moaned with anguish at the very thought of such treachery.

  ‘I know who they are, these murderous traitors. My loyal guards have arrested all thirty of them. They will all meet the fate they so richly deserve.’ Led by General Panmasi the spectators burst into wild cheers and protestations of patriotic loyalty. When this finally abated Pharaoh continued, ‘The first and foremost of these villains is the man who shot the arrow which was meant to kill me. He is one of my senior ministers in whom I placed my complete trust. My guards saw him draw the bow that launched the arrow which struck me but could not kill me.’ He raised his voice to a shout: ‘Bring forth the traitor Irus.’

  ‘Not Minister Irus!’ Rameses protested in a horrified whisper. ‘He is an old man, but noble and good. He would never commit murder. I doubt he is still robust enough to draw a compound bow.’

  Serrena took his hand to quieten him and prevent him from rising to his feet. ‘Irus is beyond salvation, my darling,’ she whispered. ‘The man who launched the assassin’s arrow is more than likely the same man who is leading Irus to the block. His name is Orcos and he is one of Utteric’s most ruthless henchmen. But he also has the reputation of being a formidable archer.’

  Rameses nodded sorrowfully. ‘I know Orcos well. I also know that Irus has tried to oppose some of Utteric’s most savage and cruel judgements. This is the price he must pay for those indiscretions.’

  ‘Utteric is playing one of his master strokes here today. Firstly he is asserting his claim to immortality. His subjects saw him killed. Now he has returned from the dead, to destroy those who seek to oppose him.’ Serrena spoke quietly, but with conviction. ‘Men like Irus. Utteric is setting out to silence the voices of all honest and honourable men in Egypt. He has learned that my father is on the sea with his fleet and his chariots and those of all his vassal kings. He is securing his rear before he marches to oppose my father’s invasion. There is nothing we can do until they arrive here in Egypt. We can only wait. Perhaps Utteric will send Irus and the other accused to the Gates of Torment and Sorrow; if so we can take care of them.’

  The royal guards led Irus and the other prisoners up on to the podium with their hands tied together in front of them. It was clear at a glance that they had all been beaten and treated harshly. Most of them were bleeding and Irus their putative leader was only half-conscious. His once handsome face was so swollen and bruised that I could barely recognize him. His long white locks were matted with his own drying blood. He had been stripped of his clothing, all except a brief loin-cloth, and there were whip welts covering his naked back. It took two of the royal guards to steady him and keep him on his feet when they dragged him to face Pharaoh.

  Immediately Utteric launched a verbal assault on him. In the process he was lashing himself into one of his maniacal rages. I have seldom heard the likes of the filth that spluttered from his lips mixed with flying spittle. He had a riding whip in his right hand. He used it to emphasize his tirade: slashing it across the old man’s face, swinging it back and forth until more blood dribbled down his beard and his legs collapsed under him. The two guards hoisted him upright to keep him facing his tormentor and enduring every blow of his punishment.

  Finally Utteric stepped back. He was panting wildly and sweat ran in rivulets down his cheeks. He dropped the riding whip with which he had beaten Irus and he drew his sword from the sheath on his belt.

  ‘Let him go,’ he panted at the guards. ‘Let him fall to his knees in an attitude of supplication. Cut the bonds from his wrists so he can hold out his hands and plead with me for mercy.’ Obviously the guards had done this many times before with other prisoners. They grinned with anticipation as they carried out Pharaoh’s orders.

  ‘Hold out your hands, you poisonous traitor. Beg me for my royal mercy, you ancient stinking turd,’ he shrieked at Irus. The old man was too far gone to respond; he shook his head in bewilderment and the blood drops splattered the boards under him.

  ‘Make him do it!’ Utteric shouted at the guards. Still grinning they stepped forward and seized the rope ends that they had deliberately left tied around his wrists. They heaved back on these and Irus was pulled face down on the boards of the podium, but his arms were extended to their full stretch in front of him.

  Utteric stepped forward with the naked blade of his sword poised. He tapped it lightly on Irus’ forearm to measure the distance and then he lifted it above his head and swung down from on high. The bronze blade sheared through Irus’ left arm, flesh and bone, without a check. The guard heaving on the rope fell back and blood spurted from the severed stump in a jet. Irus gave a weak little cry and the watching crowds echoed it, half of them in horror and the other half in approbation.

  Once again Utteric raised his blade and measured the stroke with a swordsman’s eye. Then he swung and hacked cleanly through Irus’ other arm. Shorn of both his arms Irus lay whimpering in a puddle of his own blood.

  General Panmasi stepped forward at Utteric’s left hand and signalled for one of the waiting chariots to come forward. The charioteer brought his vehicle up to the base of the podium, with all four of his horses prancing and skittering at the stench of blood. In the meantime the two guards had tied lengths of rope to Irus’ ankles. They passed the ends of these to the charioteer who made them fast to the rings at the rear of his vehicle. Pharaoh then jumped down from the podium and took up the driver’s position in the chariot which the driver vacated for him. Utteric shook up the reins and the team of four started forward at a trot, dragging Irus’ mutilated body behind the vehicle. Irus cried out with the agony of being dragged and at first he tried desperately to balance his naked and mutilated body over the bare ground and fend off the rocks and other obstacles which littered the perimeter of the stadium with the bloody stumps of his arms. But on the second circuit of the stadium he gradually grew weaker until he could no longer defend himself. His head bumped and jolted against the earth until the last flicker of life was extinguished. Pharaoh Utteric hauled his corpse back to the podium, and jumped down from the chariot.

  ‘Invincible Pharaoh, what should we do with this other filth?’ General Panmasi asked as Utteric mounted the podium again. With his drawn sword he indicated the other twenty-nine prisoners who knelt, trussed like pigs for slaughter.

  Utteric gave them a dismissive glance. ‘I have done enough hard work for one day. Send the whole treacherous brood of them out to the Gates of Torment and Sorrow. Let the experts there deal with them appropriately.’

  ‘We will have to hurry to get back to the Garden of Joy in order to welcome Utteric’s prisoners there,’ I warned Serrena and Rameses as Pharaoh and his entourage remounted their chariots and drove out of the stadium in the direction of the golden palace.

  We had to push our way through the crowded streets, but as soon as we reached the city gates we ran most of the way back through the hills, taking shortcuts, wading through the streams and climbing the steep rock faces which were too sheer for the horses towing heavily laden chariots which we knew were not far behind us. Once again I was amazed how well Serrena kept up with Rameses and me; she was often first to reach the top of the harsher climbs. Of course she was much lighter on her feet than either of us. We were not much more than an hour ahead of the convoy of chariots bringing the condemned prisoners up from the city of Luxor; in fact I was still busy with my make-up and donning my Doog costume when there were shouts from the sentries in the lookout towers warning of the approach of many vehicles along the road from the city.

  I hurried through to the main gates just in time to greet the new arrivals with the usual gloomy rigmarole of question a
nd answer and usher them through to Serrena’s delightful Garden of Joy. No sooner had they recovered from the shock of finding themselves in paradise compared to what they had been expecting than I divested myself of my Doog costume and introduced them to Rameses. They knew me and Rameses well by sight since we had lived in Luxor and both of us had been men of substance and stature. However, they had been informed by Utteric that both of us were long dead so their astonishment and delight were boundless. They surrounded us and clamoured for the chance to embrace both of us and express their infinite gratitude for lifting from them the threat and shadow of death.

  It took only the barest minimum of suggestion from me for all of them to suddenly recognize in Rameses the future Pharaoh of Egypt and the replacement for the loathsome creature who had arrogated that title to himself, and coincidentally sentenced all of them to a torturous death.

  First in ones and twos they began to go down on their knees before Rameses and hail him as Pharaoh, and then in a rush they were all chanting his praises and swearing fealty to him. I let their fervour reach boiling point and then begin to abate before I played my winning trick.

  Serrena had been awaiting my summons in the pavilion close at hand and at the exactly apposite moment she appeared. The freed prisoners turned to her with curious expressions, which swiftly turned to silent stupefaction. I had impressed upon her the need to present the most winning appearance in her power. But even I had not expected her to improve upon perfection.

  She was wearing the most striking dress of all those sent to her by her mother, Tehuti. It was a heavenly shade of green which changed miraculously to all the other colours of the rainbow as she moved and the light played upon it. It suggested the tantalizing shape of her body beneath the cloth. Her arms were bare and her skin was burnished to perfection. Her head balanced on the long elegant neck was proud and ineffably lovely. The green of her eyes was brighter than any precious emerald and mesmerized the beholder with their perspicacity.