Bird in a Snare

by N. L. Holmes

  “Father.” They exchanged an embrace. “You’re off to the north again, I hear.”

  “Yes, son. But I hope it won’t be such a long trip this time. Let me look at you in your finery.” He held the lad out at arm’s length and ran him over with a gaze that he hoped looked proud and not amused. Aha’s little eyes were outlined heavily with green malachite. That seems a lot for the middle of the day.

  As if he could hear his thoughts, Aha shot his father a glare that suggested he thought he was being mocked. Suddenly Hani’s eyes dropped to his son’s solid waist and saw the dagger suspended there, perhaps meant to be a penknife. The knife had a gilded handle, embossed all over with the sort of animals and curly palmlike trees that were popular in Djahy and Kharu. They had become a kind of international fashion at the highest social levels. But what attracted Hani’s gaze—what stopped his breath—was the scabbard. It didn’t fit the knife, which projected a thumb joint’s length too far, exposing the bronze blade. The sheath was gilded, as well, but austere, with only an array of colorful triangular inlays at top and bottom like rows of teeth.

  “Where did you get this beautiful knife, son?” Hani asked mildly, despite the hammering of his heart.

  Aha’s face bloomed red with pride, although he tried to act nonchalant. “Oh, that? It was given me by one of the king’s Fan Bearers. He has agreed to become my patron.”

  “Why, that’s wonderful, Aha!” cried Hani sincerely. “Your career is made, my boy.” He clapped his firstborn affectionately on the upper arms. “It isn’t Lord Yanakh-amu, by any chance, is it? I know him quite well.”

  “No. In fact, it’s Lord Yapakh-addi.” Aha smirked a little, as if he wanted to disappoint any ideas his father might have had about this patronage being an effect of Hani’s influence.

  Hani tried to keep his face pleasant and impressed, but his stomach had taken a tumble to his feet. My son in the clutches of that boor? And worse still... the scabbard. It could only have belonged originally to one knife. He was overcome with horror at the thought of what his naive boy might have gotten himself into.

  He realized he had stood there for rather too long, saying nothing, when Aha made an impatient twiddle of the fingers on his knife hilt. “Well, I need to be going...” Aha said, looking vaguely toward the interior door of the Hall of Royal Correspondence.

  “Of course, son. Don’t let me keep you. I’m very proud of you. Your mother will be, too.”

  “Yes, well”—Aha gripped his father’s forearm as if they were two friends parting—“safe trip to you, Father.” He didn’t quite meet Hani’s eyes but turned and made his way hastily into the shadowy reaches of the hall and out of sight.

  Hani stood for a moment after Aha had disappeared, trying to absorb what he had just seen. A chilly sweat beaded his forehead. Yapakh-addi seemed to have given Aha the scabbard that belonged to the knife that had killed Abdi-ashirta. “It was Yapakh-addi, then, or one of his henchmen,” he said under his breath.

  But the case was closed. He was no longer investigating the hapir’s murder.

  ⸎

  That evening, Hani recounted his meeting with their son to Nub-nefer, but he omitted any reference to the knife. With her nerves under siege daily by her brother’s wild predictions of disaster, she had enough to worry about.

  She was unimpressed by Yapakh-addi’s rank. “He’s got what he wants, then. He’s become a pitiful social climber,” she said in a cold voice.

  “There’s nothing wrong with a little ambition, my dear. He’s young and needs to think of his family’s future.”

  She looked up at her husband, her big melting eyes full of sorrow. “I feel like we’ve lost him, Hani. He’s ashamed of us. He only wants to hobnob with his social superiors—pretend he’s someone he isn’t.”

  “Well, we aren’t exactly peasants.” Hani smiled. “Your people are prophets of Amen, after all.”

  “But not good enough for the lion.” She sneered. It pained Hani to see such an expression on Nub-nefer’s beautiful face. That curled lip was eloquent of how hurt she was. “I hope Sat-hut-haru does marry Maya. A nice working-class boy might actually appreciate us.”

  “So Sat-hut-haru is going to marry Maya?” crowed Mery-ra from the door. He entered, rubbing his hands together. “Good evening, my children. Did I interrupt some happy news?”

  “No, Father,” Nub-nefer said, rallying with a smile. “Unless the news that I’m going in to start the servants cooking dinner counts.” She kissed her father-in-law on the cheek and swept off to her duties.

  “Let’s go out to the pavilion, Father,” Hani said, taking Mery-ra by the arm and directing him to the door. “I just learned something interesting.”

  They seated themselves in the leafy shelter of the vine-covered porch, and Hani, speaking in a low voice, recounted his meeting with Aha and the discovery of the owner of the murder weapon.

  Mery-ra received the information with an excited lift of the eyebrows. “So, what did he have against Abdi-ashirta?”

  “I’m sure I don’t know. Unless he’s one of those in the king’s government who is opposed to stringing the hapiru along.”

  “How old a man is he?”

  Hani shrugged. “Your age at least. Maybe as much as ten years older.”

  “How likely is he to retain the favor of the new king, then? Our Sun—or whatever we’re supposed to call him these days—seems to have surrounded himself with youngsters of his own cohort.”

  “Unlike Ptah-mes, he’s apparently been reappointed Fan Bearer.” Hani wasn’t as sure as his father seemed to be that Yapakh-addi’s days of influence were over. “He’s part of that generation of Abdi-ashirta that was all raised together in our court with the Osir Djehuty-mes. To hear Rib-addi tell it, it was one big joyous family. Although maybe not for Abdi-ashirta.”

  “Ah, yes. You told me. This Yapakh-addi doesn’t seem like the sort of fellow I want my too-impressionable grandson involved with.”

  Neferet suddenly bounded into sight on the garden path and raised an imaginary trumpet to her lips. “Dooot! Dooot! Dinner is served!”

  “Thank you, my young herald,” Mery-ra called back, rising. Hani imitated him, and the two men made their way in pensive silence to the salon, where Nub-nefer had set out the little tables.

  To Hani’s surprise, Maya was sitting with the girls. Maya jumped up happily at the coming of his host. But he must have registered Hani’s surprise, because the young man’s smile faltered. “Was I not supposed to be here, my lord?”

  Hani stammered, “Of course, Maya. You’re always welcome.”

  But the secretary’s face was a scarlet chaos of apology and embarrassment. “I thought Lady Nub-nefer said... I’m terribly sorry. Perhaps I misunderstood.”

  “No, you didn’t, my dear,” said the lady of the house, who entered, beaming. “We invited you. Didn’t we, Hani?”

  “Definitely, definitely.”

  With a defiantly welcoming expression on her face, Hani’s wife bent to hug the scribe.

  Hani knew she was acting out her replacement of Aha. It made him sad for her sake, but he wished Maya nothing but good. He offered his secretary a broad smile.

  Nub-nefer continued, “You’ll both be leaving again soon, so it’s nice to get together. I hope your mother doesn’t mind; it was rather last minute.”

  “I’m sure she’s honored, my lady,” Maya mumbled, his eyes on Sat-hut-haru.

  Hani wanted to tell Maya about the identification of the knife, but a family dinner wasn’t the moment. They set to the stuffed quail eggs and dates wrapped with crisp pork. Hani was unaccountably famished. He looked down at his spreading belly, which had certainly grown since his student days, having been filled with delicacies like this. Nub-nefer managed to find the best cooks and inspire them to heights of creativity. “Delicious, my dear, as always.” He bent to toast her with a sip of beer from the pot standing beside him.

  He couldn’t fault his son for wanting to surround himself wi
th the comforts of a good life. But the patronage of a louche character like Yapakh-addi, no matter how high placed he might be, could lead him into compromising situations. Stop worrying, he told himself. You’re as bad as little Shu.

  ⸎

  They arrived in Kebni by the middle of summer. Hani could tell the blush was off the adventure of traveling for Maya, who looked as worn and disheveled as his employer felt when they finally disembarked. Rib-addi’s servants collected them at the port and conveyed them in litters to his palace, where they were met, unexpectedly, by Ili-rapikh. He seemed less hostile than at their previous meeting, but warmth didn’t seem to be in his repertoire.

  “I welcome you in my brother’s name, Lord Hani,” he said politely. “The king is, unfortunately, with his army at Tsumur—Simurru, if you prefer—awaiting a siege at the hands of Aziru and his outlaws.”

  “He’s leading the army in person?” Hani couldn’t conceal his surprise. The old man hardly seemed up to the rigors of a campaign.

  “Our resources are compromised as a result of Yapakh-addi’s depredations, my lord. I had hoped to see Lord Yanakh-amu and some Egyptian troops with you, as requested...” An eyebrow rose, more a cynical gesture than one of genuine disappointment.

  “The commissioner has been alerted, my lord. He’ll take whatever steps he sees fit. I’ve been sent to try to negotiate with Aziru.”

  Ili-rapikh nodded skeptically. “I wish you success in that.” He cleared his throat then said in a lower voice, “Any news about my brother’s lawsuit, Lord Hani?”

  “I’m afraid the case seems to be going in favor of Yapakh-addi,” said Hani, watching Ili-rapikh’s face closely. “His books are all in order and show several years of loans that were never repaid. He had every right to seize Rib-addi’s property.”

  The vizier sighed heavily. “In order? I wonder, if you say ‘several years of loans.’ I told my brother that there were better sources of gold than that Yapakh-addi. But the grandee was very eager to display his beneficence toward the city of his birth.” He sniffed. “Not that he has so much as set foot here since he left as a child.”

  Hani said carefully, still watching Ili-rapikh’s reaction, “I understand he’s a member of the royal family.”

  “Distantly. In a city this small, most of the aristocracy has some claim to royal blood.”

  Nothing in the vizier’s manner, chilly though it might be, suggested that he was hiding anything or being other than straightforward. Hani thanked him for his hospitality, and he and Maya retreated to their accustomed apartment.

  ⸎

  The next day, they headed for Simurru, right into a likely siege. Maya was goggle-eyed with shock at the idea.

  Hani reassured him, “I have all our diplomatic papers in order so that we can leave whenever we need to. If Aziru is still courting the Egyptians, he won’t be likely to violate an emissary’s diplomatic immunity.”

  Maya still looked dubious. “Don’t things get pretty grim during a siege? Famine and all? Eating babies and old people?” No doubt, he pictured dwarfs as being high on the list of edibles.

  Hani laughed. “This is Aziru we’re talking about. He won’t keep the siege going for months. He just wants to make us realize we can’t take him for granted. When Yanakh-amu and his troops arrive, the hapiru will probably graciously turn the city back over to Rib-addi and claim it wasn’t a siege at all.” Still, Hani couldn’t help but remember that the last siege of the city had left an unexpected corpse behind.

  The little town within the arms of the sea was bristling with signs of military activity. A chain was up across the opening of the harbor, and soldiers patrolled the roads. As Hani and Maya and their delegation approached the walls, they saw helmeted heads above the ramparts. Signs and countersigns were exchanged before the gate swung open to them, and Hani heard it clang shut as soon as their footsteps cleared the gate tower. Rib-addi was certainly taking things seriously.

  They entered the commissioner’s palace, expecting to be led to the mayor of Kebni. But in fact, it seemed the Egyptian commissioner himself was still in residence. Hani and Maya exchanged a disappointed glance at the news. Hani recalled the disagreeable Pa-hem-nedjer from his last visit.

  They were ushered into an office, but the man seated there was not Pa-hem-nedjer. He was young, sleekly plump, pouty looking—dressed for court, not for a godforsaken outpost in Kharu expecting a siege. He gaped at Hani as if he were a completely unexpected vision.

  “My lord,” said Hani in his most amiable voice, “I am the king’s emissary, with the mission to try to bring our parties to a peaceful agreement. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

  “Hotep is the name. No doubt you knew my father, Haya, who was my predecessor in this post.” Hotep watched the emissary and his secretary from under half-closed lids. Although Hani outranked him, he didn’t rise.

  Perhaps he’s so young and ignorant he doesn’t even know the proper protocol, Hani thought, trying to make excuses for such flagrant negligence. “Are you in charge of the defense, my lord? I was under the impression that the mayor of Kebni was at the head of the army.”

  “He is, he is.” Hotep smiled smugly. There was something unpleasantly fluid and effeminate about his movements. Hardly the image of the soldier one expected. “Because I’ve been recalled. Transferred, rather. Nice timing, eh?”

  A creeping flame of contempt made its way up Hani’s cheeks. A damned cavalier attitude in the man who should be defending the king’s city with his last breath. Hani forced himself to remain cool. “I assume you’re leaving the troops for Rib-addi? He’ll certainly need all the manpower he can get.”

  “But of course. I won’t need any troops in the capital.” Hotep’s fat little lips made a sly smile. “The new capital.”

  Got yourself a nice sinecure at home, I see, Hani thought darkly. So this is the caliber of man whom the new king is rewarding. “Excellent. Then I won’t trouble you any further, Lord Hotep. It sounds as if Rib-addi is the man to whom I should address myself.”

  “Sounds like it.” Hotep rose as if to shoo Hani out as quickly as possible—but no encouragement was needed. Hani was only too happy to make his bow and leave, Maya trailing in his wake, swollen with outrage.

  “What a noble commander. So delighted to be leaving his post just before it’s overrun by attackers,” the secretary sniffed, as they made their way up the stairs to Rib-addi’s quarters. “Seems we assign the dregs of the Two Lands to Kharu. I’ve never seen so many disgusting functionaries.” He hauled himself up breathlessly by the banister.

  Hani realized only as they reached the landing that he’d been taking the stairs two at a time, a measure of his own anger. He said with forced neutrality, “I suspect that, like Yanakh-amu, he’s a military scribe and not a real commander. They probably just stuck him here until someone more suitable could be assigned.”

  “‘Nice timing,’ as he would say,” Maya commented snidely. He heaved a big sigh to get back his breath.

  Hani looked down the corridor and saw a guard outside one of the doors. “That must be where Rib-addi is holed up. Let’s go.”

  They were admitted to a room that was comfortable but a far cry from the luxury of the king of Kebni’s apartment at home. Rib-addi was seated hunched over at the edge of his bed, perusing a clay tablet. He looked up when the two men entered, and his sagging old face brightened. “Hani! The gods have answered my prayers. They’ve answered my prayers.” He struggled to rise but seemed to be unequal to the task.

  Hani took him by the hands and pressed him down. “No need, my lord.” The king had aged visibly since the previous year. He was frailer and more stooped, his movements more unsteady.

  Hani, who’d expected to feel hostility toward the old man in the wake of Aper-el’s revelation, instead found himself overcome by a wave of compassion. Whatever his misdeeds, age and sickness had exacted their reparations from Rib-addi. “How is it that you find yourself having to defend the city in person, my lord
? This is a heavy burden.”

  But Rib-addi’s black eyes were as sharp and malicious as ever. “If the Egyptian commissioner doesn’t see fit to defend it, who else but me is left, eh, Hani? Who else but me?”

  “What about your many sons? Surely one of them—your heir perhaps—could take this hardship upon himself.”

  Rib-addi heaved an enormous sigh that seemed to cause him pain, since he laid a hand upon his chest in a convulsive movement. “The young ones are all in Kemet, where they’re safe. And the older one... he’s not so sure Tsumur needs defending.” At Hani’s curious expression, he cackled. “No, Hani. He’s not so sure that I shouldn’t just let Amurru go.”

  Interesting, thought Hani.

  They were interrupted by the arrival of a slave bearing dinner, such as it was. Hani eyed with a grimace the bowl of bland beige porridge and a beaker of some sort of steaming tisane that let out a terrible bitter odor. Then he saw the appalled expression on Maya’s face and realized his own must be equally unguarded.

  Rib-addi caught his eye before he could rearrange his features and said with an apologetic grin, “Forgive me, my friend. I’m a sick old man. I no longer take any pleasure in the table. But we can order you up something more suitable to men in their prime, eh? A little meat, perhaps? Some wine?”

  “That would be most welcome, my lord.” Hani thought of the others of his entourage, no doubt enjoying a hearty dinner in their quarters. “But don’t let my party be a burden to you. I know you must conserve your supplies in preparation for the siege...”

  “Ah, the siege, the siege...” Rib-addi sank into himself, his gaze dismally fixed on the porridge.