Bird in a Snare

by N. L. Holmes

  “They took off through the crowd so fast they nearly knocked other people out of the way. Oh, it was a hilarious moment, I tell you.”

  Not wanting to dash cold water on Maya’s glorious recital, Hani said neutrally, “You did well to spot them, my friend. It sounds like they’re after me next.”

  Maya sobered as suddenly as if he had, in fact, been dashed with water. “It does, doesn’t it?” He stared at Hani. “Are they real soldiers, I wonder?”

  “What are they doing here? If they followed us, they would have known you were still alive.” Hani got to his feet and began to drift around the room, talking aloud. He could feel his thoughts thickening like milk clotting in the cheese maker’s pan. “Which means they must have come before us to Beruta. How could they know I’d stop here, unless they’re in the employ of someone who knows the assignments of the diplomats?” A wave of cold rolled up his middle, making his stomach knot. Aper-el? Ptah-mes? He couldn’t believe it. Had he so seriously offended the vizier that Aper-el wanted his death? Surely Ptah-mes would have warned me. If he knew. But no—my stop here was my own decision. We were missioned to Simurru.

  “If they’re after me, too, it means this wasn’t directly related to your questioning of Sheshi.” Hani stopped his pacing and turning to Maya. “Sheshi must have told someone high placed that you were asking questions, and that clued our pursuer in to how dangerous we had grown.” He thought about his family, innocently waiting for him at home. He thought of Baket-iset, so completely vulnerable to any mischief, unable to flee or even to raise a hand in her defense, and of Pa-kiki, walking to school every morning without a suspicious glance at his surroundings. He thought about Sat-hut-haru, alone except for a serving girl at Maya’s little house. Hani’s eyes blurred, and he wondered if he might grow dizzy with apprehension. He leaned forward glumly and settled his forearms on his knees. Maya stared at him in wide-eyed concern.

  “This all has to be the work of whoever killed Abdi-ashirta. But if it were at the king’s orders, as I can’t help think, the murderer would feel no need to conceal himself. The king can do whatever he wants in the name of foreign policy. Neither I nor anyone else is likely to confront him, whether we agree or not.” He told us to call off the investigation. Is he protecting someone who is subject to prosecution?

  “So you think it’s not the king after all?” Maya asked.

  Hani shook his head, as if to clear it of cobwebs. “I have no idea. I seem to know less than when we first began our investigation.” What he wouldn’t have given to turn in his resignation, effective immediately. Not only was he being used for dishonorable ends by his superiors, but now his very life and those of his family were in danger. Kill me, if you must, he thought a little wildly. But don’t touch my family. Great Hidden One, protect them. Protect them. Because surely the Aten wasn’t the only god who loved his children.

  Maya was staring somberly at his feet, which didn’t quite reach the floor. Hani was suddenly flooded with affectionate amusement that broke the spell of his gloom. “Maya, I have just one question.”

  The secretary looked up. “Yes, my lord?”

  “What happened to that food you went off to get us?”

  CHAPTER 13

  Hani sent Ili-rapikh a greeting to let him know that he and a small army were crossing the usurper’s territory, but his objective was Simurru, now the property of Aziru. A messenger had been sent ahead as the party passed through Ullaza to notify Aziru of his approach. Hani didn’t want to look to either man like an invading force.

  They entered Simurru under a full-scale autumn storm, the ink-black clouds boiling with thunder and rain striking them like needles in the face, despite the oiled hempen cover of the wagon in which they rode. The gates were closed as if to a city under siege, and the hapiru who guarded it watched with barely concealed suspicion as Hani’s escort clattered under the ramparts. The guards closed the heavy doors behind the Egyptians immediately, and it didn’t escape Hani that he and his party were now effectively prisoners if things went bad.

  They passed through the narrow stone-flagged streets of the citadel. The rain ran in rivers down the central gutter so that, at every intersection, they had to splash through the stream. By the time they reached the former commissioner’s palace, the foot soldiers were soaked to the knees, only marginally protected by their heavy cloaks. Hani emerged with considerable relief from the covered vehicle in the courtyard. Maya and the other staff crawled out behind him, huddled over their leather document cases. While the soldiers headed for their barracks and the palace slaves helped unload his supplies, Hani led the way into the small royal residence. Once in the vestibule, they shook their wet garments like dogs.

  “My lord Hani,” cried a deep voice. Hani looked up to see Pu-ba’alu emerging from the throne room. The hapir bowed courteously. “I welcome you in my brother’s name. Unfortunately, he has been detained in Tunip and will be unable to meet with you. But please consider yourselves our honored guests.”

  Hani, already out of sorts after a difficult and uncomfortable day of travel, was hard-pressed to conceal his irritation. He said with studied mildness, “Why, Lord Pu-ba’alu, I believe we sent your brother ample warning of our approach. How is it he has not managed to present himself before the representative of the Great King Nefer-khepru-ra Wa-en-ra?”

  “I assure you, my lord, that this was purely accidental and not meant to be a slight. Far from it. Young Bet-ilu and I hope to show you as expansive a welcome as our abject status permits.” The hapir bowed again, sweepingly, so that Hani gazed at the smoothly shaven top of his head. “Permit me to show you to your rooms.”

  Pu-ba’alu led the way with a gracious beckoning gesture of the hand. Hani exchanged a look with Maya behind Pu-ba’alu’s back as they followed the hapir down the corridor and up the staircase. On the landing, Pu-ba’alu turned and said smoothly, “I apologize for the poverty of the lodging, my lord. With time, Aziru intends to build a finer palace, one worthier of a vassal of King Nipkhuririya.”

  Quite the suave and articulate fellow. Not the brute he appeared to be in his brother’s company. Nothing is quite what it seems up here. “Thank you, my lord. Dare I ask when your brother plans to return from Tunip?”

  “No one can say, Lord Hani. Whenever his business is completed. He has been notified of your arrival, so I’m sure he’ll make every effort to detach himself.”

  “And what is his business, if I may inquire?”

  “As my lord is undoubtedly aware, the Hittites now occupy Nuhasshe and Niya. Tunip is a defensible city on the Arantu, just across from them. It may be that Aziru will have to fortify it against the encroachment of our new neighbors. He is there to investigate that possibility and to treat with the local kings about an alliance.” He looked pointedly at Hani. “I’m sure the reinforcement of Egyptian soldiers would be most valuable.”

  Hani smiled pleasantly. “Is there no commissioner now at Ullaza? It would be he who controls the forces stationed in A’amu.”

  Pu-ba’alu’s mouth hardened. “The commissioner Hatip has returned, my lord. To say that he isn’t much help would be to understate the problem.”

  His smile fading, Hani nodded, unable to come up with any words of comfort. Hotep had been sent back—the least qualified man in Kemet for what had become a delicate and dangerous job. Hani repressed a hopeless sigh. Their king’s entire foreign policy was no more coherent than a pile of sand.

  They’d reached the door to their rooms. The lower scribes trooped into their quarters, arms full of baggage, while Pu-ba’alu ushered Hani and Maya into the grander of the two chambers. Hani recognized it from their previous stay, and in fact, there stood the tall, lanky Milk-addi at attention as before, his hands folded at his waist.

  “I trust this will be comfortable, Lord Hani. Milk-addi will be your assigned servant,” Pu-ba’alu said. The eunuch bowed at his name, whether or not he understood the Egyptian words that surrounded it. “If you have any needs, please call u
pon him. I’ll be sure someone summons you for dinner tonight. We’ve planned something of a banquet in your honor.”

  “My lord is too kind,” Hani said with a nod. But he saw to it that there was a touch of chill in his voice. Even the most lavish accommodations could not erase the calculated affront of Aziru’s absence. He remembered how the king of Temesheq had behaved in a similar way two years before and wondered again how much influence the hapiru leader had over that city. Now Tunip seemed to have fallen under his sway as well. That gave him both the west coast and the southern and eastern borders of A’amu. What was he really up to on the frontier of the Hittites?

  Pu-ba’alu closed the door behind him, and Hani turned to Milk-addi with a grin. He said in the language of A’amu, “We meet again, my friend.”

  The young eunuch seemed both happy and extremely nervous. He bobbed up and down in a spasmodic bow, smiling, but there was something in his pleated eyebrows and strained mouth that spoke of anxiety. “Rab Hani,” he murmured, his eyes darting toward Maya, “could I speak to you alone sometime?”

  “Is something wrong?” Hani said, drawing closer.

  Sweat beaded the slave’s face. “I... I’m a loyal son of Mizri, my lord. I’ve seen some things—heard some things—I think you should know about.” Milk-addi licked his lips. His hands were clenched so tight his knuckles were white.

  “You can trust Maya, son. And anyway, he doesn’t speak your language. Tell me.” Hani gestured to a stool and took his place in the one chair. Maya sank to a cross-legged seat at his side like one of the king’s hunting dogs flanking the throne.

  Milk-addi folded up his long stork legs, knees together and heels out. His high-pitched voice sank to a near whisper. “Nobody must hear I’ve spoken to you, my lord. But you need to know this. There’s a certain Lord Yapakh-addi—one of us but favored by your king—who is acting behind his back.”

  “How do you know that, my friend?” Hani interrupted in a voice just as low.

  “Because he comes often to Tsumur, my lord, and meets with Lord Aziru. I... I hear them speaking.”

  A shiver of unease made its way up Hani’s back. “Are they friends, then?”

  “I wouldn’t know, Rab Hani, but they... they’re using each other, I think. This Yapakh-addi is very rich. He gives Aziru gold when he needs it. And he also gives it to Lord Ili-rapikh, my former master’s brother.” Milk-addi cut his eyes around him nervously, as if someone might be listening from within the clothes chest or from under the bed.

  “In exchange for what?”

  “I heard him say once that he had put Ili-rapikh on the throne and that he’d better come through for him or he would take back everything he’d given to him. But what he wanted in return, I don’t know.”

  Hani listened with grim satisfaction to these words, which seemed to confirm his suspicions about the Fan Bearer’s ambitions in Kebni, although he still didn’t know precisely what Yapakh-addi was after. Or why he was in league with Aziru.

  “And”—the eunuch looked at Hani with round, hunted eyes—“he also gives gold to Egyptian officials.” He dropped his gaze and swallowed hard. “Please, please, don’t tell anyone I told you this, my lord.”

  Hani laid an encouraging hand on the youth’s arm. “Speak without fear, Milk-addi. I would never say anything that would get you in trouble. Have you heard any names?”

  The eunuch nodded. He was silent for a moment, breathing heavily, as if gathering his courage to dive into deep water, then said, “I’ve heard the names Hatip and Pahannate.”

  Hotep and Pa-hem-nedjer. No surprise there, Hani thought bitterly. That Hotep is worse than just ineffectual. He’s genuinely corrupt.

  “And I’ve heard the names Tutu and Yanakh-amu.”

  That stopped Hani cold, his heart in his mouth. The vizier of the Upper Kingdom and his own good commissioner of Djahy. Yapakh-addi aimed high. Hani wondered, sickened, what need either of these two men could possibly have for more gold. He said in a voice wavering with tenuous hope, “You’re sure of the context? He said he was giving them gold? It wasn’t just an innocent transaction of some sort?”

  “I don’t know, my lord,” the young slave said, looking ready to cry. “All I heard is he wants Aziru to persuade the king of Beruta to turn my former master over to the king of Siduna.”

  Hani shifted on his chair and pondered that. Rib-addi had tried for years to get the Egyptians to punish Zimreddi of Siduna for flirting with the vassals of Kheta. Zimreddi had responded with angry denials, and the upshot had been that the two men had hardened into deadly enmity. Only a few years before, Neb-ma’at-ra had ordered the Sidunians to send ships to help Rib-addi out of a hapiru blockade, but they’d claimed they were unable to respond because the hapiru had sealed their harbors as well. That had been a transparent pretext but an eloquent declaration of hatred. It was all too clear what would happen to the old man should he be surrendered to Siduna—the final piece of Yapakh-addi’s revenge on Rib-addi. And what did Aziru expect in return for accomplishing this abominable betrayal of his father’s protector?

  Hani stared at the eunuch, who was wiping his eyes with the back of a shaky hand. The lad said in a quivering voice, “Lord Aziru is my master now, but only because he took over by force. I’m still loyal to Lord Rib-addi. None of this is right. I told myself I had to let someone know. But the commissioner is in on it. So when they said you were coming, I thought of you, my lord. I don’t know if you can do anything...”

  I doubt it, Hani thought gloomily. Still, he said in a reassuring voice, “You may be sure I’ll tell the people who need to know, Milk-addi. Thank you. This was a brave thing to do.” The tears were jetting from the poor slave’s eyes by now. He wiped his nose ineffectually with his wrist. Hani patted him on the bony shoulder, admiring the daring that had prompted this lowly and no doubt despised piece of human chattel to stand up for what was right. “Will you continue to keep your eyes and ears open for me, son? Let me know anything you overhear that might shed light on what’s going on. Above all, tell me if Yapakh-addi turns up.” Hani rose.

  “I will, Rab Hani. I promise.” Milk-addi gulped down his tears and stood, looking unsteady and vulnerable with his weak chin and girlish cheeks although he overtopped Hani by at least a head.

  “May the Hidden One guard you, my friend. And the Lady of Kebni.”

  “Thank you, thank you, my lord.” The eunuch grasped Hani’s hand and, falling to his knees, kissed it. Then he scrambled to his feet with the alacrity of the young and let himself out the door.

  Maya had risen, too, and stood with his hands on his hips, staring disapprovingly after the departing slave. “What was that about, my lord?”

  Hani described what the slave had heard. “So it seems some of our worst suspicions are confirmed. Our king has surrounded himself with venal and dangerous men. Or else there is something going on we’re unaware of.”

  “I can well believe Pa-hem-nedjer and Hotep are venal and dangerous. What I find hard to grasp is why people like Tutu and Yanakh-amu are in the pay of Yapakh-addi.” Maya shook his head.

  “It depends on what Yapakh-addi’s goals are. If they’re to further the ends of the king’s foreign policy, generously underwriting the expenses himself, then I suppose the support of the others is laudable.”

  Maya gave a skeptical snort. “Only you would give the bastard credit for such generosity, Lord Hani. My guess is, he’s out to acquire power for himself in Amurru, Temesheq, and Tunip through Aziru—and probably Kebni, too, if Ili-rapikh is in league with him. He must think he’s managed pretty well to get his revenge on his old cousin.”

  “Let’s keep our eyes open, Maya. Especially since it seems as if Yapakh-addi or someone is tired of our investigation and wants to be rid of us.”

  The two men cleaned up, and Hani dictated letters to Maya while he awaited the call to the banquet. He had no desire at all to socialize with Pu-ba’alu, toward whom he harbored considerable suspicion and ill will as his brothe
r’s representative. But in fact, the prince had kept his word about the quality of the feast. The entire family of Aziru was present along with the nobles of A’amu, who appeared to have no qualms about supporting the hapiru now that the nomads had taken their seat in power. It seemed Aziru was already a king in everything but name.

  How many of them know that his father Abdi-ashirta was their former ruler’s runaway slave?

  Hani permitted himself to enjoy the food, which was copious and delicious. He rather liked the northern cuisine, full of olives and pomegranates and nuts in sweet-and-sour combinations. And Pu-ba’alu had brought out the kingdom’s best vintages, although Hani made sure he didn’t drink so much that his observations were dulled. The Amurrites reclined at table. Hani’s couch was placed between that of Pu-ba’alu and Aziru’s son Bet-ilu. Khai—he of the siege of Ullaza—and another brother of the absent leader were also present. Khai was a big man, built along the lines of Pu-ba’alu, with a flattened crooked nose that seemed to have been brutally broken in the past. Each of them lay alongside his own small table. The younger boy, Abdi-tesshub, sat in a chair like the women; apparently, it was the prerogative of grown men to stretch out on a couch.

  Hani let his eyes roam over the diners, looking for signs of tension or embarrassment, but everyone seemed to be enjoying himself genuinely, indeed with a kind of hilarity that spoke of relief. Perhaps his presence was seen as proof of Aziru’s legitimacy in the eyes of Kemet. Wrong. Then he wondered, How am I going to take him into custody? Will I have to follow him to Tunip? As soon as Hani had arrived, he’d written both to Aziru and to Yanakh-amu—warning the former that his absence would be ill viewed in Akhet-aten and explaining the situation to the latter, hoping for a clarification from the commissioner in Azzati. But now he didn’t know what to think of Yanakh-amu. Is he allied with Aziru through Yapakh-addi? Is he betraying the Two Lands? Or is he quietly—under the table—implementing the king’s will? And why is it that suddenly the king’s will needs clandestine implementation?