Free The King's Man by Pauline Gedge

he turned to Huy was still pale, but the frenzy had left his eyes. “What must I do? Have him murdered and incur the wrath of Ma’at, not to mention every other god? Send him back into exile? Relinquish the Horus Throne to him and become Prince Amunhotep again? Such a move would surely reverse our positions. He would fear a bid to regain power on my part, plot to exile me, even kill me …”
    “You have reasoned well, but your conclusions inhabit the realm of fantasy, Majesty,” Huy said. “This matter should have been discussed, at least with your Mother, as soon as I was permitted to invite the Prince’s return. She would have reassured you.”
    Mutemwia settled herself on the step beside the throne. “Your blood-uncle was my best friend and confidant when you were still a baby, Amunhotep. He was, I believe he still is, a devout servant of Ma’at. Tomorrow we will welcome him home with a great feast, and see him settled in his old apartments with his steward Pa-shed. After a few days we will discuss his future with him.” She tapped her son’s sandalled foot. “I have already prepared to place spies among his new servants and among Dowager Chief Wife Neferatiri’s entourage. Huy is ready to See for him if you order it. But wait, Amunhotep. You may yet discover an affection for him.”
    Amunhotep sighed. “I don’t think I’ll feel entirely secure until my position as the One is sanctioned on my majority,” he said gloomily. “Meanwhile I dare say that both of you will tell me to concentrate on my education. Still”—he looked up at Huy—“I do want you to speak with Nakht-sobek and Kha, and find out when I may begin building in Egypt. Having taken note of your criticism, I shall humbly order a meeting with the Treasurer myself and explore the extent of my wealth.”
    Huy smiled. “A wise decision, Majesty. In the meantime I see Minhotep and Ptahemhet loitering by the doors. Go and enjoy your friends.”
    Amunhotep slid off the throne. “I must have my clothes changed first.” With a kiss for his mother and a nod to Huy, he strode away.
    “His confidence is renewed,” Mutemwia observed. “As for our own, only time will tell.” She turned a resolute face to Huy. “Nothing must endanger his destiny. I shall want you to See for him again soon, Huy. It has been years since you held him in your arms amid a magical storm of gold dust.”
    Huy watched her glide to where her attendants waited for her. I suppose I must make my way to the Treasurer’s office. He and Kha will be waiting, and later I am to meet the noble Yey. I wish a scribe was trotting behind me . Calling for a servant to show him the way, he left the lesser audience chamber and plunged into the maze of corridors leading to the offices of the King’s hard-working ministers. He was hungry for more poppy already.
    Both men rose as Huy entered, but only Kha bowed. Huy noted quickly that the Chief Architect’s palms were not hennaed. He was an older man, the muscles of his arms ropy, the loose skin of his belly folding over his belt. His head was shaved, but the faint shadow of stubble on his scalp was grey. Deep wrinkles scored a weatherbeaten face dominated by two startlingly blue, clear eyes that squinted sharply at Huy as he returned the gesture. Kha’s kilt was white and plain. He was bare of jewellery but for a simple gold protecting Eye of Horus resting on his chest. Three clay cups stood beside a flagon of beer on a small folding table to one side. The surface of the Treasurer’s desk was invisible under piles of scrolls, each neatly tied together with flax twine. A scribe was already sitting cross-legged on the yellow floor matting, his palette ready.
    “Great Seer, this is Egypt’s Chief Architect Kha,” Nakht-sobek began. “We are here to meet with you at the King’s request.” His brief smile was polite and noncommittal. “I believe that His Majesty has already acquainted you with his desire in the matter of building