"Shall I find out what happened to Ra?"
"Yes, and I'm going back to the house. I'll have to write letters accounting for these deaths and send the bodies to the families. Gods, Ky, I think I would have gotten more rest at pharaoh's side than I have in my own home."
"I tried to warn you."
Meren left Wings of Horus and walked slowly back to the villa. Although it was still morning, waves of heat rippled up at him from the baking earth. Zar would sulk when he beheld Meren's disheveled state. His kilt was splotched with blood, and his legs were splattered with mud. Meren trudged through the gate past an aged doorkeeper, intent on bathing before he faced Idut and the others.
Unfortunately, a phalanx of relatives waited for him on the loggia, barring the front door. Everyone except Ra seemed to be there. Meren paused to survey the group, then mounted the steps. A walking stick was thrust in his path, knocking against his shin.
"So, boy, you've returned at last," Cherit said as she withdrew her stick and settled back in her carrying chair. "Come here and explain all this absurd running about. Have you decided to accuse your own brother of murder?"
"No, Aunt."
"Injustice!" Hepu loomed over Meren, his bulk expanding with righteous indignation. "I know you've been to Green Palm and found those who implicate Ra in my son's death."
Cherit whacked Hepu's arm with her stick. "Shut your teeth and let Meren explain."
Meren looked around the group. Idut was gazing at him, startled. Behind her Isis and Bener fidgeted. Isis looked eager, as if she expected to enjoy the impending confrontation, while Bener's avid expression was tempered by apprehension. Nebetta wore her now-habitual air of sorrow mixed with condemnation. Refusing to meet her accusatory stare, Meren faced Hepu instead.
"Uncle, I would have a word with you and Nebetta."
He walked to the end of the loggia and stood beside a column. Looking injured and hostile, the two joined him.
"Not long ago," Meren said to Hepu, "you made a curious remark when I spoke of Sennefer's dealings with women. You said he didn't seduce them, and then you said that it wasn't possible for him. I remembered being confused by your choice of words."
"My son was a man of honor-"
"Let me finish. Certain knowledge has come to me that makes plain your meaning. Sennefer was impotent, wasn't he?"
Nebetta gasped. "What lie is this?"
Hepu's chest swelled, and he directed a furnacelike stare at Meren. "Who speaks such calumny? Is it Ra? He has good reason to lie."
The two began to yammer, causing Meren's head to pound. He'd had his fill of hypocrisy and blame. Filling his lungs, he let out a roar that rivaled any Hepu had ever emitted.
"Be silent!"
Nebetta squawked and clutched her husband's arm. Hepu worked his jaw, but no sound came out.
Meren continued in a lowered tone. "I know the truth about Sennefer. Out of respect I refuse to speak of the- the misfortune from which he suffered, and I'll remain silent. This is what I've discovered."
He told them of Anhai's accidental death, then called upon his skills in dissembling to create the tale of Sennefer's remorse and suicide. He hated lying, but could think of no other way to conceal the dangerous truth. As he spoke, he saw understanding wake in the faces of his aunt and uncle.
"This is terrible," Nebetta said.
"Unendurable," Hepu moaned.
"I know it's a tragedy," Meren began.
Hepu reddened. "What will people think?"
"The disgrace. Everyone we know will find out. What are we going to do, husband?"
Meren waited for a few moments, then left the two to plan their strategy. If he had to listen much longer, he would be tempted to shove a wad of Instructions down Hepu's throat. He returned to Aunt Cherit and gave the family the tale of Anhai's death and her husband's, without mentioning Sennefer's impotence. Then he announced Wah's mishap and dealt with Idut's confusion and sorrow. By the time he'd finished, he longed to bathe and obtain some draught for the ache in his head.
"But, Father," Bener said. "Wah was running away. I saw him."
"You were mistaken."
"But he…" Bener's words faded as she met the glare he turned on her.
"Bener, Isis, come with me to the hall. I want to speak to you."
When they entered the central hall, serving women appeared bearing a jar of beer, cups, and strainers. He took a cup and dismissed the servants. Alone with his daughters, Meren drained his cup. Then he handed the empty vessel to Bener.
"He was running away, wasn't he?" she asked.
Isis sniffed. "How do you know?"
"Because he climbed a tree and galloped over the fields as if a Hittite army was after him, Mistress Doubt-all."
"Cease this chattering," Meren snapped. "Bener, never again will you chase after someone you think might be a killer, or anyone else for that matter. Am I understood?"
"But I was trying to help."
"And could have gotten yourself killed!"
"I was right," Bener said, beaming at him. "He was the guilty one."
"You're not to speak of matters that are none of your concern."
"She thinks everything is her concern," Isis said.
Meren fixed Bener with a stare that wilted her defiance.
"You're not going to explain?" she asked.
"I've already done that, just now."
"Oh, that." Bener and Isis exchanged glances. "We know when you're performing like a player in a festival drama."
For their own protection he had to silence them. Summoning the air of derisive authority he'd used on some impudent recruits, he said, "If I wanted to deceive you, I assure you I would have done it without detection. However, I'm not accustomed to having my words doubted, and I'll hear no more, or I'll be forced to deal with your disobedience. Now go. I'm sure your aunt is in need of aid in conducting the affairs of the household."
They left him, dissatisfied but compliant, although Meren was certain they wouldn't be for long. He took refuge in his chambers and tried to allow Zar's ministrations to ease the pain in his head and the disquiet within his ka. The mystery of a long-dead queen threatened his peace, but the prospect of facing Ra and Bentanta disturbed him almost as much. His misery reached new heights when Karoya suddenly appeared in his bedchamber as he was slipping on a pair of dyed leather sandals. He looked up at the royal bodyguard and cursed.
"By all the gods of Egypt, you had better have come alone."
Karoya never changed his impassive expression. "I have. I come as royal messenger."
"Good. Then you bear a letter?"
"No." Karoya glanced at Zar and the two other servants who had attended Meren's dressing.
"Leave me," Meren said.
When the servants had gone, Meren lifted a brow at Karoya. The Nubian planted his feet apart and lifted his gaze to the ceiling while he recited.
"Horus, Strong-Bull-Arisen-in-Thebes, Enduring-in-Kingship-like-Ra-in-Heaven, Mighty-in-Strength, Majestic-in-Appearance, King of Upper and Lower Egypt, Lord of the Two Lands, Nebkheprure Tutankhamun, given life forever, saith thus: At the command of my majesty, the new houses of eternity have been prepared. All is in readiness. Lo, my majesty commands the attendance of the Lord Meren in Memphis that we may take counsel for the disposition of thy charge."
"This is awfully soon," Meren said.
"The son of Ra commanded speed, and it was done," came the serene reply.
"Very well. I hear the command of pharaoh, may he live forever. His will is accomplished. Will you rest and take refreshment?"
"I am commanded to return at once."
'Then may Amun protect you on your journey."
Karoya left, and Zar reappeared, carrying a transparent overrobe, then proceeded to load Meren down with a broad collar of turquoise, ivory, and bronze beads, a heavy beaded belt, and a decorative dagger. Too weary to protest, Meren waited until the dagger had been shoved into his belt. Waving aside the inlaid bronze bracelets Zar prof
fered, he left his chambers, intent on making an official record of events. This he would present to Ay personally so that it could be lodged in the office of the vizier. He would have to be vigilant at court when Wah's death was announced, send out orders to his various agents and close friends to watch for any sign of interest. He was crossing the central hall on his way to the stairs that led to his office when he heard a familiar voice.
"There you are!" Ra called as he entered the hall, flanked by the charioteer Simut and another guard.
Behind him came Kysen, supporting an aged woman who took three steps for every one of her escort's. Ra marched over to Meren ahead of his guards. He planted himself with feet apart, arms folded across his chest, and gave Meren a contemptuous look that started at his carefully groomed head and ended at his gilded sandals.
"Where have you been?" Meren demanded.
"To Green Palm," Ra said bitterly, "to prove my innocence before you tried me for murder. But you won't be able to carry out your evil plan." Ra stepped aside to make way for Kysen and the old woman. His arms swept out, indicating the two, and he glared at Meren as he burst out loudly, "I'm innocent, and-"
"I know."
"This is Sheftu's grandmother, who is a wise woman- What?"
"I said, I know you're innocent."
"But you've kept me prisoner!"
"Forgive me," Meren said, feeling heat creep up his neck to his face. "I was mistaken. Sennefer killed himself in remorse." He explained the accident that caused Anhai's death while Ra listened with a dazed expression.
"But how do you know?" Ra asked.
Not wanting to mention Bentanta without privacy, Meren fell to studying the design on one of his bracelets.
"Hepu has agreed that this is what happened. Now why have you brought this woman to me?"
"Nedjmet is a wise woman, Meren. Many villages consult her on matters of truth and controversy. She has given testimony of the manifestation of gods that has solved cases of theft, disappearance, and rape. I asked her to help. Tell the Lord Meren what you know, Nedjmet."
Nedjmet had been listening with a hand cupped to her ear and her neck craning toward the speakers. She squinted at Ra, then tried to lower herself to the floor, but Kysen stopped her.
"Respected elder," Meren said. "What have you to tell me?"
Nedjmet held up a finger. Its joints were swollen, the skin cracked, but it was steady. "Great lord, I am Nedjmet, a rekhet, a knowing one. Thy brother has come to me seeking testimony that he was in my house late on the night of the feast of rejoicing, and into the early morning. This I cannot do, for I slept without hearing anything that night. But a manifestation of the goddess Maat came to me when Lord Nakht entered my dwelling and asked for my help. Maat, goddess of truth, is with thy brother. His ka is untouched by the sin of murder."
"There," Ra said in triumph. "You see?"
Meren clasped his hands behind his back, lowered his head, and walked back and forth. It was well known that the gods manifested themselves to people in situations of great import. Once he'd seen a man swear his innocence in the matter of a theft, only to recant when visited with a manifestation that struck him blind. Knowing ones in villages throughout Egypt served as intermediaries between humble Egyptians and the gods, dispensing wisdom and aiding in judgments. It was a comfort that he had this additional testament to Ra's honor.
"I am grateful for your help, knowing one. The wisdom of Amun already has revealed the truth of my cousin's death. However, this manifestation is a further sign of my brother's innocence. Kysen, have someone take the respected elder home, and tell Kasa that Nedjmet and her granddaughter are to be provided with a regular portion of grain and beer."
The old woman bowed repeatedly as Kysen backed away from Meren and guided her out of the hall. The charioteers followed, leaving Meren alone with Ra. He met his brother's accusing gaze, feeling like a criminal watching his miserable heart weigh down the feather of truth on the celestial balance scales before the gods. Forcing himself to speak, he told Ra the official version of the murders.
"Damn you, Meren. You wanted me to be guilty."
"I didn't. I know you, Ra. If you'd discovered that Anhai was using you… Don't you see? You could have wanted revenge against them both, and you made things worse for yourself by refusing to be clear and honest with me."
"I should have known you would blame me for your mistakes."
"No, no, I don't. I was wrong. I suspected the worst of you." Meren drew closer to Ra, who maintained his rigid stance and scowled at him. "But I never stopped trying to find another explanation for these deaths. Do you think I'd have done that if I hadn't wanted to absolve you?"
Ra's scowl faded a bit. "I suppose not."
"I have asked for forgiveness, brother. Will you bestow it?"
"The mighty Lord Meren, Friend of the King, is asking my forgiveness? I should sacrifice an ox in honor of this day. Oh, don't glower at me. I'll forgive you if you'll get me appointed captain of charioteers."
"Gods, Ra, don't you ever learn?"
Ra turned on his heel with a smirk. "I knew you didn't feel that guilty. I'm going home, brother. Don't invite me to your next feast of rejoicing."
Retreating to his office, Meren tried not to think of the ruins into which his relationship with Ra had fallen. Since most of his men were busy elsewhere, he sent to Kasa for a scribe to take down his report for the vizier. To his surprise, the boy Nu arrived with a scribe's palette slung over his shoulder.
"What are you doing here? I need a scribe."
Nu bowed low. "Master Kasa sent me because I'm faster and more accurate than his sons, lord."
"Is that so?" Meren said. "We'll see."
Nu sat on the floor and took out his writing supplies. Meren plunged into the formal address of the report without pausing. When he reached the end of the long salutation, he stopped. Nu kept writing for a moment, then dipped his rush pen in fresh black ink and waited. Frowning, Meren walked over to gaze down at the papyrus stretched over Nu's crossed legs. The address was perfect. The cursive hieroglyphs were clear, the words accurate.
"You're talented for one so young," Meren said.
"The lord is generous."
"I must find some post for you where your skills can be honed. You're wasted in a country house."
Nu flushed with pleasure, and Meren gave him a slight smile. He intended to find a post that would keep him busy for a decade and in a place far away from his daughter. Perhaps he wouldn't care. Service to the viceroy of Kush, far to the south in Nubia, would be most appropriate for Nu.
A knock interrupted him as he began to dictate again. At his response, Bentanta came into the room alone. Meren stuttered over a phrase, then hesitated.
"Leave us, Nu."
"That isn't necessary," Bentanta said. "I came only to tell you I'm going home."
"Leave," Meren said to the boy, who was already on his feet. When they were alone, Meren offered Bentanta a chair, but she refused.
"You could have told me you'd solved Sennefer's murder instead of sending a servant to tell me I was free. And I had to get the tale of Sennefer's death from Idut," Bentanta said.
"Forgive me. I was distracted."
"You were ashamed."
He looked at her wordlessly. That familiar feeling of annoyance he often experienced in her presence was growing again.
"And I hear Wah is dead of an accident. Such a number of mishaps. One is tempted to suspect them when they come in so great a quantity."
"I ask your forgiveness," Meren said as he stooped to pick up the unfinished report. "I'm sure you can see that my conclusions were reasonable, given what we knew."
"Oh, of course. Quite reasonable, but you're a greater fool than I thought if you expect me to believe this tale of suicide."
Pretending to peruse the report, Meren said lightly, "People seldom question my judgment."
"That, my lord, has had a noxious effect on your character."
Lowering the report, Me
ren asked, "Are you here to take your leave or to quarrel?"
Bentanta alarmed him by closing the distance between them and taking the papyrus from his hands.
"You're in retreat," she said, tapping his arm with the papyrus. "Routed and on guard against attack. Don't you realize I didn't want you to know about Djet any more than you wished to be told? Do you think I wanted to be dragged here to expose my foolish mistake, one of which
I'm ashamed? We should find some way to measure mortification to see whose is greater."
Meren snatched the report from Bentanta and walked away from her. "I can't speak of this now."
"All I want is your assurance that you'll stop trying to find ways to be rid of me in order to save yourself pain."
"You think I'd accuse you of a crime for such a reason? Why would you need consolation from my cousin for, for…"
"Don't confuse the past with the present, Meren."
"Don't confuse what I do as the Eyes of Pharaoh with my private actions."
"We haven't spoken privately, not about Djet."
He waited, but she didn't continue. Keeping his back to her, he said, "Go home, Bentanta. There's nothing for us to discuss."
"Merciful gods, you really would rather face a horde of nomad bandits unarmed than-"
Turning quickly, he faced her with his courtier's impassive mask in place. "Please don't force me to be any more discourteous than I have already been."
She met his gaze with a gasp of exasperation, then stalked out of the room. The last thing he heard was her voice sailing to him from the stairwell.
"Coward!"
Kysen came in, staring over his shoulder in the direction of her voice. He didn't comment.
"Nento is hiding on the barge and refuses to return to the haunted temple."
Fighting an onslaught of confused emotions he didn't want to face, Meren finally responded. "What? Oh yes- well, we won't be using the temple much longer. I've just received word from pharaoh."
"Nento will be overjoyed. You're distracted. Is something wrong?"
"No. Nothing. Help me with these reports, Ky, and then I must go to Memphis. I'm going to take the girls with me. They're too much for Idut."
"Too clever, you mean."
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