City of the Dead

collapse of power at the centre.
    There was no concerted move against the empire yet, as the foreigners were content to bicker over and enjoy the territory they had so recently won, but sooner or later the Black Land would have to strike back, or be lost forever. If they lost control of the River...
    An unpleasant conclusion had lodged in Huy’s heart and grew there. Ay did not have the power or the personality to save the country. Horemheb did. Huy knew that the ultimate battle between the two men would not concern him, and he did not want to be involved in tipping the balance of power. But be was faced with the choice of backing one of two tyrants, and if the country were to be saved and survive, and he accepted that its survival overrode any other consideration, a choice had to be made. He wished the gods had not cast him in this role.
    But there might be a way of using what he knew to buy the queen’s safety. After that, let Horemheb and Ay slog it out. He braced himself for the rough water ahead.

    Ineny arrived to fetch him early. He was agitated, detached, and at first even less disposed to conversation than Huy.
    ‘What is it?’
    ‘Ay’s losing patience,’ replied Ineny, shortly.
    ‘With me?’
    ‘With the whole situation. Horemheb has practically taken over the entire investigation of the king’s death, on the grounds that Ay has more important things to do.’
    ‘What are they?’
    ‘The funeral arrangements, of course. But who is going to preside at them?’
    Huy wondered who was looking after the protection of the northern frontier; but he guessed that Horemheb would have most of the generals under his wing. Ineny had arrived in a large, covered litter almost too broad for the streets. The carriers had to step over three or four beggars who crouched in their usual spots by the side of buildings, and from outside the two men could hear curses as the litter lurched over.
    ‘What do you think the end of this will be?’ Huy asked Ineny.
    ‘There are so many rumours inside the palace compound that you could weave a fishing net with them.’
    ‘What about the official inquiry? Have they issued a statement yet?’
    No. But the news has broken of Horaha’s death.’
    How has that been reported?’
    Natural causes.’
    Huy was silent. No one could disprove that. Whatever poison had been used had left none of the telltale marks — blue lips, a rictus after death - and even if Senseneb could prove that her father had been killed, Huy doubted that she would be wise to try- The time for avenging her father would come, and it would be in a way that did not put her fruitlessly in danger he would see to that.
    His thoughts turned to Kenamun. A picture of the long, bony face with its thin beard appeared in his heart’s eye. Kenamun the sadist, whose murder of the little Babylonian prostitute some years ago he had been powerless to prove. Kenamun whose career under Horemheb’s protection had never faltered, and never would while the general needed to dip his hands in blood.
    ‘I know nothing of it,’ said Huy. ‘But the reason for the king’s death must be given soon.’
    ‘You know what it will be,’ said Ineny.
    The litter tilted again, and from the greater sunlight that shone through the linen curtains, Huy knew that they were out of the harbour quarter and had started to cross the open space which separated the city from the palace compound.
    ‘Why do you live in that area?’ asked Ineny, whom the conversation appeared to soothe, it stinks of fish, and all the people who aren’t sailors are cut-throats.’
    ‘You get used to it,’ said Huy.
    ‘That doesn’t answer my question. You’ve got quite a reputation.’
    ‘And I’ll keep it by staying quiet. If I don’t, I’ll lose my living and my head.’
    ‘You can’t help getting known about,’ said Ineny. ‘Once you pass a certain stage, you can’t help getting noticed. Even in a big place like this.’
    Huy looked across at him. ‘Are you telling me something, Ineny?’
    ‘I just want to be on the winning side when all this is over.’
    ‘That may be a long time yet.’
    The massive wall of yellow stone towered above them as they climbed out of the litter by a side-gate of Ay’s house. The gate was a cavernous rectangular portal set so deep in the wall that the carvings of its lintel were lost in shadow. But as they .approached, a small door set in the greater swung open soundlessly.
    The court they stood in was brown and