“It was Anhai who made the mistake, wasn’t it?” Meren asked. Wah nodded, his bony knees seeming to turn to paste. “You see, Ky, Anhai said that she hated to think of the queen as she’d been while suffering from her last illness—her skin red and dry, the voice of her heart so loud, and the visions. All of these Sennefer suffered, and his body convulsed as well. But Sennefer had been poisoned and died quickly. Not like the queen, who died over the course of days. I would have seen the similarities sooner, but the two deaths were separated by many years, and the queen died when others were succumbing to the plague.”
Meren approached Wah and said, “One died slowly, the other much more quickly, yet they suffered the same complaints. If Sennefer was poisoned, then the queen must have been poisoned too.” Meren paused, but Wah said nothing and avoided his gaze. “You thought Sennefer was threatening you when he said his wife had mentioned you many times, didn’t you, Wah? You had carried your secret for so long without anyone suspecting, and then without warning, Sennefer and Anhai appeared and began to speak of Nefertiti’s death and of how they’d talked about you together. You were terrified, weren’t you? You expected to be exposed or forced to pay for their silence.”
Wah paled, even to the folds of skin beside his mouth and over his eyes. He licked his lips, tried to speak, then simply nodded.
“You must have been delighted when Anhai turned up dead in the granary,” Kysen said in wonder. “Was that it? Did you decide to take advantage of the confusion and get rid of Sennefer before he could threaten you?”
Wah’s voice croaked. “I thought you would blame the Lady Bentanta or Lord Nakht, or both.”
“I was close to it,” Meren said. “Until Paser blundered and made me suspicious. What has he to do with any of this?”
“The dullard! He thought you were about some secret business for the vizier or General Horemheb. I told him you were simply going home for a rest, but he wouldn’t believe me. I should have killed him sooner.”
Kysen shook his head, trying to accustom himself to this strange twist to what should have been a murder for private reasons. Sennefer hadn’t been killed out of revenge by Ra or to conceal Bentanta’s transgressions. He’d been murdered for what Wah thought he knew.
Looking at Meren, Kysen said, “But Sennefer didn’t—”
Meren banged his fist against the cabin wall. “No! Sennefer knew nothing. That’s the worst evil of all. This bastard killed my cousin for nothing. If Sennefer had known such a secret, he would have told me. He may have been an ass about women, he may have lied to conceal his weakness, but he wasn’t a traitor.” Meren whirled around and stalked over to Wah. “And now I want the truth, you murdering piece of refuse. Who told you to murder Nefertiti?”
Wah backed away from Meren. His mouth clamped shut, and he whipped his head back and forth.
“You’re going to tell me,” Meren said. “My patience is gone. I warn you. You’re going to die, Wah. Your only choices are how slowly, and in how much pain. I want to know who ordered the queen killed. I’ll ask you but once more. Tell me the whole of it.”
Clutching his head, Wah finally gave way to his terror. He doubled over and began to moan. Meren raised his eyes to the ceiling, and Kysen winced at the noise. He raised his hands to his ears as the moans turned to a high screech, and thus was unprepared when Wah suddenly sprang at him, grabbed his dagger, and knocked him to the floor. Caught off guard as well, Meren leaped after Wah, who scuttled out of the cabin with a cry.
“Worse will happen to me if I speak!”
Chapter 19
Meren hurtled out of the deckhouse after his prisoner. Wah scrambled out of the cover of the awning, hesitated when he saw Reia with his back turned, then charged at the charioteer, dagger pointed, bellowing as he ran. Startled, Reia whirled around to face a shrieking madman. As he moved, he brought his spear around to fend off the attack. Meren shouted a warning, but Wah rushed forward, raising his own weapon.
Reia tried to back away, but Wah jumped at the last moment and lashed out with his blade. Reia’s spear thrust forward, knocking the dagger aside, then swept back in a defensive move that brought the tip into Wah’s path. Meren heard a grunt and the muted sound of flesh being punctured. He reached the two as Reia pulled the spear out of Wah’s gut and tossed it aside. Wah was still standing, clutching his belly while blood streamed through his fingers. Kysen appeared at Meren’s side as he and Reia lowered Wah to the deck.
“He rushed at me deliberately,” Reia said. “What madman charges a spear with a dagger?”
“A man who wants a quick death rather than a slow one,” Meren said as he surveyed Wah’s distorted, sweating features. Blood wet his arm when he touched the man. “Wah, can you hear me? Tell me who commanded you.”
Wah stared up at him. “A pity I used all the poison on Sennefer.” Blood seeped from his mouth. “You were going to tell the vizier.” A long spasm of coughing stopped him. “Ay w-would have staked me out and flayed the skin from my flesh while I begged for death.”
“Don’t face the weighing of your heart in the hall of judgment without telling me the truth,” Meren said. “Wah?”
Wah’s eyes were closed now, and he began to gasp. Meren leaned close, turning his ear to the man’s lips, but all he heard was a bubbling gurgle. At the familiar sound, he straightened and moved away from the man. Kysen, who had been holding Wah propped on his knee, allowed the body to slip to the deck.
“Lord, forgive me,” Reia said as Meren stood. “He attacked so suddenly that I had no time to think.”
“I know,” Meren said. “He caught us off guard as well. Who would have expected that a fawning place-seeker would do himself such violence? Wrap the body and take it to the house with Paser’s. Kysen, I want to talk to you.”
He walked back to the deckhouse with a calm pace that belied his apprehension. When they were alone, he took a chair and beckoned his son to him.
“All this time it was Wah,” Kysen said as he sat on the floor beside Meren. “He thought Sennefer knew he murdered Nefertiti and was threatening him?”
“He wasn’t thinking clearly. If Anhai and Sennefer had suspected him of such a crime, surely they would have confronted him years ago.” Meren rubbed his neck. The muscles felt tight enough to snap. “I think bearing such an evil secret for so long warped his reason. He lived with the fear of discovery for many years. I think he’d begun to count himself safe, or he wouldn’t have sought my favor.”
Kysen slapped his thigh. “And just when he thought he glimpsed a path back to power and riches, Sennefer and Anhai blurted out his presence in the household of the dying queen.”
“And Sennefer’s death had nothing to do with Ra or Bentanta after all.”
Kysen glanced up at him. “You don’t look relieved.”
“Ky, Nefertiti was murdered, and we don’t know who was responsible. Wah wouldn’t have done it on his own, and once word of his death gets about—well—you saw his terror. Even the Devourer doesn’t evoke such fear.”
“Then we have to find out who his master was.”
“How do we do that? Do we start telling royal ministers, high priests, and our friends we think the queen was murdered?”
“Dangerous?” Kysen asked.
“Extremely. I wouldn’t wager on our chances of living out the year.”
“Then what do we do?”
Meren rested his chin on his fist and thought for a while. Then he said, “Paser’s death was an accident, as was Wah’s. He tripped while we were showing him how to spar with a dagger.”
“Two accidents on the same day?”
“Everyone knows it’s a miracle Paser’s stupidity hasn’t killed him before now. As for Wah, people may suspect there’s more to his death, but no one will challenge us. After all, he was going to marry Idut, so we had no reason to want him dead. I know there will be talk, but nothing can be proved. If we say nothing, the rumors will die for lack of nourishment.”
“There’s littl
e choice, I suppose.”
“Keep silent about the queen’s death, Ky. One word could get us both killed.”
“You’re just going to leave it?”
“No, but we have to be careful. This matter is intricate. We don’t know why Nefertiti was killed, much less who commanded it and who benefited.” Meren touched Kysen’s arm. “We don’t even know if Ay knows the truth.”
“If he did, wouldn’t he have searched out Wah and killed him?”
Meren hesitated, wondering whether to voice his own suppositions. “He may already have discovered and dealt with the one who commanded Wah …” The less Kysen knew, the safer he’d be. “Yes, most likely you’re right. He doesn’t know.”
“So we’re left with a tale of lies,” Kysen said. “Sennefer killed Anhai, then killed himself?”
“Yes.”
Lifting a brow, Kysen said, “The story will please Idut.”
“But not Nebetta and Hepu. However, I suspect they will be anxious to keep secret Sennefer’s impotence. Remorse over accidental death makes a better explanation than admitting your son was cursed by the gods and less than a man.”
They lapsed into an easy silence broken only by the sounds of Reia and the men working outside.
“Father, how much danger is there?”
Meren sighed. “A great deal. In the last years of Akhenaten’s reign, many factions vied for power. There were those who tried to use the king by professing devotion to the Aten, and those who suffered because he wouldn’t support our foreign allies and vassals. And there were some who decried Nefertiti’s influence, either because she failed to stop him from casting out the old gods or because she refused to use her power to enrich them. She also protected and favored Tutankhamun, may he live forever.”
“And if we make inquiries about Wah?”
“If we’re clumsy, we could be inviting death. I’ll have to think about this carefully to decide upon a course.” Meren rose. “Meanwhile, there seems to be no threat to the haunted temple, but we’ve still the family to deal with.”
“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 proffered, 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.
Murder at the Feast of Rejoicing Page 21