A quiet but entirely authoritative voice possessed the sudden silence of the cell: ‘What is happening here?’
He had entered unnoticed. Perhaps both Mahu and I had been too engaged with the enactment of our mutual antagonism, the blood and sweat of what was happening; but it was as if he carried no shadow, made no noise, as if he had suddenly appeared from thin air. Ay. His very name was weightless. Thin air, indeed, seemed to describe his presence. But what force has thin air that it can cause a thug like Mahu to leap to his feet, alarmed, already stammering his excuses?
‘Release this man from his bonds,’ Ay whispered almost, to ensure we all listened carefully.
Mahu nodded, full of hatred and uncertainty, and the guards did as they were ordered. I cradled my damaged hand and bloody wrists.
‘This man is naked,’ Ay added, as if mildly puzzled. He looked enquiringly at Mahu, who gestured vaguely, at a loss to answer. Ay’s face modulated into an expression that in others would have constituted a smile. His lips pulled back to reveal evenly spaced fine white teeth, the teeth of a man whose diet is so refined nothing ever rots or damages them. But his grey eyes smiled not at all. ‘Perhaps you should offer him your own clothes,’ he said softly.
Mahu looked so surprised I almost laughed. And his hands did indeed stray towards his own linens as if he would actually obey this absurd command. Then Ay, with a dismissive nod, made it clear that my clothing should be brought for me-which it was, instantly. I dressed as quickly as I could, despite the sickening pain of my broken finger, and immediately felt stronger, more equal. The three of us stood in silence. I wondered what could possibly happen now. Ay let Mahu suffer; he stood there wishing he were made of stone.
‘Did this man not expressly state to you that he was under my protection?’ Ay enquired of Mahu.
If it was possible, I was momentarily the more startled. Mahu glanced at me.
‘Yet what do I find? The chief of police personally enacting his own little inquisition. I am very surprised.’
‘I detained him in the course of my duties, and with the authority of Akhenaten himself,’ Mahu countered.
‘I see. So the King knows you have this man here for interrogation?’
Mahu could say nothing.
‘I do not think he would approve of your treatment of a fellow officer whom the King himself decided, from the depth of his wisdom, to appoint.’
Then he turned to me and I looked for the first time properly into his frozen grey eyes-full, it suddenly struck me, of snow.
‘Come with me.’
I would save my vengeance on Mahu for later, and relish it then. It took all my willpower not to punch him hard in the face with my good hand as I walked past him. He knew it, too. Instead I just stared at him, then carried on, as well as I was able, and followed the footsteps of Ay up the stone stairs, towards the weak light of day staining these miserable walls.
We were soon in a wide brick-lined shaft, perhaps a hundred cubits deep, like an enormous well that had not yet struck water, and never would. Stairs wound up the sides, and at every level chambers like those in a catacomb disappeared quickly in different directions into inky shadows. The entrances to these were barred but I saw, as we passed, the still-living mortal remains of men in the darkness, little piles of skin and bone, some with their white eyes open, in tiny cages not fit for dogs. In another space I saw men buried up to their noses in large sand-filled clay vases, like the ibises and baboons we dedicate in sacred catacombs. Madness and despair showed in their eyes. These men had been abandoned here and could no longer speak to defend or betray themselves. There was almost no sound.
Ay acknowledged the existence of none of this horror; he just walked up the stairs methodically, step by step, as if it cost him no effort. I followed, my mind bewildered by events and these sights, until finally, out of breath, I stepped out of that pit of suffering and misery and into the ordinary light of day. Suddenly there was the world again: heat and brightness, and guards sitting bored in the shadows of a reed hut. They all rose instantly to respectful attention when they saw Ay.
Ay got into a carrying chair, already prepared with uniformed carriers, and motioned for me to sit beside him. Shading my eyes against the blaze of daylight, I suddenly recognized where we were: in the Red Land behind the city, south of the desert altars. It must be late morning, for the shadows had gone and all was hazy with heat and overwhelming light. I felt very weak and tired. Ay handed me a little water jar, and I drank slowly as the carriage moved away along one of the Medjay paths. Servants ran beside us holding shades against the light. I think he had a profound aversion to the sun. We sat in silence. I found myself unable to think, only to feel the strange adjacency of these two worlds, the one buried deep, the other open to Ra and the light of day, and me passing between them, fortunately in the right direction.
‘How long have I been imprisoned?’ I asked Ay.
‘Today is the eve of the Festival,’ he replied calmly.
Two days. Because of Mahu, I now had only one day left. How could I solve the mystery in so little time? And how could I now save my family? My hatred for him intensified, like a pure flame.
‘And what news of my assistant, Khety?’
‘I know nothing of this man,’ said Ay dismissively.
That was the one piece of good news. Perhaps he had escaped.
The carrying chair took us to the border of the city, and soon we were passing through the ways of the central city, where the people were going about their daily acts and affairs so absurdly unconscious of the atrocities being committed on their fellow humans nearby. For a city in so much sun, I saw dark shadows everywhere. Parennefer had described the place as an enchantment, but now it seemed a mockery, an appalling delusion. Ay looked out at the spectacle, occasionally glancing up at building work in progress, at the many teams of artisans and workmen moving about anxiously and hurriedly on the high walls, trying to make the place look as finished as possible in time for the Festival. He seemed sceptical. He noticed me glancing at him.
‘Do you believe they will finish in time for the ceremonies?’ I asked.
He replied in his quiet voice: ‘This is a fools’ paradise, made of mud and straw, and soon it will crumble and collapse back into the base matter from which it is constructed.’
We passed the Small Aten Temple and the Great Palace, and continued along the Royal Road until we arrived at the harbour. I had not stopped, at any point, to consider my position. Here I was in the company of this man of enormous power, having been saved from the loving attention of Mahu and his gang; but of what nature was this new company? What did Ay want from me? He had freed me from one trap, but was I entering another? No guards accompanied us; I could simply have stepped out of the carrying chair and walked away up the street. But then what? I felt that he would be able to locate me anywhere.
He gestured to me to board a reed boat. I saw anchored out on the water his magnificent ship. So, this was our destination: his floating palace, a movable estate of power. I boarded the reed boat, as he knew I would.