Bird in a Snare

by N. L. Holmes

  “Five years now, an’ that’s somethin’ of a record. But I c’n get along with anybody.”

  “Still, it must take some talent to manage a rough character like that, it seems to me.” Maya watched the man’s face closely. He’s so proud of himself that he’ll admit to anything.

  “Oh, I don’t mind his temper so much. He’s got... certain habits that I have to provide for that don’t please me, but it’s his conscience, not mine.” Min-khaf’s voice dropped, and he cut his eyes around. He clearly relished a good bit of juicy gossip. “He’s got a taste for little boys. It’s sick’ning, isn’t it? But a rich man has different rules than we do, I figure. Lord Ra in his barque—imagine if you or me tried somethin’ like that! Somebody’d cudgel us flat!”

  A look of nausea passed across the broad features of Lord Mery-ra, but the old man composed himself and said cheerfully, “I bet he’s cudgeled a few other people flat in his day, eh?”

  “Oh, yes. Anybody gets in his way better look out. He’s really useful to the king like that, though—if the king needs anybody quietly fed to the crocs, he knows where to look. My master knows where to find anybody and how to get anything done.”

  So that’s what endears the old rotter to the king. “And you manage all that for him. I’m impressed,” said Maya with his best version of a fawning smile. He thought snidely that he probably shouldn’t mention that Yapakh-addi had tried and failed to have him and Hani killed. “Actually, my brother-in-law is under Lord Yapakh-addi’s patronage these days. You may know him—Hesy-en-aten.”

  Min-khaf’s face lit up. “To be sure! I see him often. Big young fellow, right? Looks a lot like you, my lord.” He nodded at Mery-ra. “I shoulda recognized the family resemblance.” He seemed to feel they were part of his people now, and he rocked back and forth, grinning and remembering. Completely off his guard.

  Mery-ra asked with a laugh, as if to disarm his own anxiety, “I don’t suppose Hesy-en-aten is one of the boys who...”

  “No, no. He’s way too old and strappin’,” Min-kha assured him. “The master likes ’em real young, still in the Haru-lock, and kinda girlie lookin’. Myself, I don’t know why he doesn’t just find hisself a girl, but”—he shrugged—“there’s no accountin’ for taste, is there?”

  “No, indeed,” agreed Mery-ra, letting out a breath, his look of anxiety relaxing.

  Gods, this Yapakh-addi is a real piece of scum. I’m almost honored to know he wants to kill me, Maya thought, sickened. He’ll corrupt that pompous Aha completely. But the presence of Min-khaf was a windfall for their investigation. All Maya had to do was ask the right questions. They’d be together on the boat for days, and the man liked nothing better than to talk. Before they reached Waset, Maya would know what Yapakh-addi ate for breakfast and which side of the bed he slept on.

  Maya rubbed his hands together in delectation.

  ⸎

  Hani had spent the morning with Pa-kiki, supervising his copying of maxims in script and his

  practice of the Speech of the Gods—the sacred pictorial characters. The boy was blessed by Lady Seshet with a real facility for the images, which even an experienced scribe could find difficult. They had to be beautiful and set into a balanced composition as well as legible and accurate.

  “Well done, son.” Hani clapped the boy proudly on the shoulder. “You’ve really advanced. It won’t be long before you’re ready to work independently. Maybe you can take over my job, eh?”

  He was teasing, but Pa-kiki’s eyes widened in eagerness. “And get to travel? Really, Papa?”

  “Be careful what you ask for,” Hani said with a kindly smile.

  Those words, which he’d last heard on the lips of Lord Yanakh-amu, made him think of the extraordinary exchange he’d had with his superior on the way back from the capital. A rich and powerful man, always in good humor, beloved by everyone, a close friend of the king... Who would have believed that such a man has ever suffered anything in a life that appears to be charmed? Yet Hani remembered the wave of sorrow and shame that had broken across Yanakh-amu’s face. His whole life must have been an agony, filled with anger and self-contempt. Hani let out a breath that was less than steady. You can’t judge a man by what you see, he thought sadly. He almost regretted bearding the commissioner with his crimes, but perhaps they weren’t crimes after all. Was it really an evil to redress a slight to his family’s honor? His heart would be weighed against the feather of Ma’at like everyone else’s on the day he died.

  Hani decided he would pay the ailing Fan Bearer a little visit to see how he was doing. But just as he was considering that course of action, a clatter and a burst of voices at the outer door interrupted his thoughts.

  “It’s Mery-ra and Maya!” Nub-nefer cried happily, running toward the vestibule to welcome them. Hani, relieved they had come back unharmed by the sun, followed.

  “We survived the attack of the Aten, son!” cried Mery-ra at the sight of him. He had his wig in his hand and his sandals tucked in his waist—a disreputable look that went well with the melted pleats and dirty linen of his festival clothes.

  “All to the good, my father. And you, son?” He greeted Maya, who was sunburned scarlet but grinning from ear to ear.

  “Survived, my lord. And”—he exchanged a triumphant look with Mery-ra—“the gods saw fit to put some interesting information in our hands.”

  Nub-nefer made them go off and bathe and change into clean garments. Then, refreshed and respectable, they all sat down together in the garden kiosk. Nub-nefer sent a serving girl for pots of cool beer. Mery-ra, shirtless, pointed out the suntan line where his sleeves had ended and the lighter bands on his wrists that marked the former location of his bracelets. “I look like a farmer!” He chortled. “They’ll kick me out of the rank of scribes! We were climbing this wall—”

  “By some incredible chance, we found ourselves on the ferry with none other than the Theban steward of Yapakh-addi, my lord,” Maya blurted without even waiting for Mery-ra to finish. “He was a garrulous fellow who told us anything we wanted to hear about his master. Some pretty disgusting stuff, but it puts Abdi-ashirta in context.”

  “Ah, yes,” Mery-ra said. “If that Min-khaf were my servant, I would make him wear a muzzle when he traveled.”

  “He admitted Yapakh-addi is paying Aziru and Ili-rapikh to do his will,” Maya said eagerly. “And he’s in league with some of the other kings, from the Fenkhu coast all the way to Tunip. If he can’t bribe someone, he ruins them through some scheme like he used on Rib-addi, but he always gets what he wants, to hear Min-khaf tell it.”

  Hani listened with a certain satisfaction. All this confirmed his impression of Yapakh-addi. “What’s he after? Anything specific?”

  Mery-ra jumped in. “It sounds like he’s amassing power all along the northern border. He’s setting Aziru up to be his cat’s paw, I suspect, and if Aziru ever gets our king’s recognition, Yapakh-addi will reign through him—or remove him and reign on his own—as a kind of miniature Great King who can barter his support to us or the Hittites, whoever makes the best offer. He’s completely disloyal to Nefer-khepru-ra.”

  Hani pondered this. “Why was he so keen to kill you and me, Maya?”

  “Because we were sniffing around his books. And he’s kept records of all his expenses, even the most treasonable. Min-khaf was very proud of this. Everything dubious is recorded in a sort of code that obfuscates the real meaning, but once someone knows how to penetrate it, it’s all there.”

  Hani said in disgust, “Every time I’ve suggested Yapakh-addi’s hands are dirty, I’m told nothing will ever happen to him. He has the king’s confidence—can probably manipulate him. He’s untouchable.”

  “But if Nefer-khepru-ra ever learned about the little boys, some of whom are now old men...” Maya insisted.

  Mery-ra added with an avid cackle, “The king has a particular horror of such stuff. It’s part of his myth that he’s the protective father of all us children. If he rec
eived proof of Yapakh-addi’s long career as a predator, then he’d surely reject him. And once stripped of the royal protection—poof.” He brought one fist into the palm of the other hand with a noise suggestive of a hawk striking a small bird from midair.

  Hani had heard from Yanakh-amu about the king’s revulsion for preying on boys. He wondered, with a creeping of his skin, if someone had gotten his hooks into Prince Amen-hotep as a child. Thinking of Yanakh-amu, whom he wanted urgently to protect, he said slowly, “Proof? I’m afraid that would compromise a lot of the victims. The scandal would decimate the ruling class.”

  Maya, his eyebrows buckled, looked disappointed that Hani wasn’t more eager about his revelation. “If no one stops him, he may come after us again, my lord.”

  Hani heaved a sigh. “Sometimes I wish I were just a happy little bird, not a human being at all. We humans can be vile animals.”

  “But son,” Mery-ra objected, “happy little birds end up as victims. Poof.” He made his striking gesture again.

  “So do human beings, Father. So do human beings.”

  ⸎

  Hani left Maya and Mery-ra drinking their beer in the garden pavilion and made his way back into the house. On the way, he passed Sat-hut-haru, tripping into the garden with eager steps to greet her husband. A cloud of perfume trailed after her as if a nearby flower bed were in bloom. The evidence of innocent young love lightened his heart a little. But he couldn’t stop thinking about the abuses of innocence that seemed to teem all around the safe island of his family.

  In the salon, Nub-nefer was sitting on the edge of her bed, conversing with Baket-iset. They looked up, all warm smiles, at Hani’s entrance. “Join us, my love,” said Nub-nefer. “Baket and I were planning the menus for the rest of the week and enjoying a little girl talk.”

  Hani sank heavily into his chair. “Don’t let me stop you ladies from your worthwhile activity.”

  Nub-nefer glided over to her husband and slipped her arms around his neck. She kissed him. “You’re in a pensive mood,” she said quietly.

  “I feel like Chaos is rising all around us, my dove. The most horrible things happen to people through the malice of others. They lie, they murder, they abuse. I’m tired of seeing the very worst side of us.”

  She seated herself on her husband’s lap, and he put his arms around her. “All we can do is live ma’at, my love—to try to make our home an island of ma’at and goodness in the world. Until the Hidden One comes forth into the light again.”

  Hani smiled. “That’s just the image that came into my own mind—an island.” He pressed his face to her golden shoulder and breathed in her fragrance. Finally, he said more loudly, “I need your advice, my dear ones. If a terrible crime has been committed, is it better to report the criminal and risk humiliating and even ruining all the victims, or should one simply keep one’s counsel and preserve their reputations but let the criminal go free?”

  Baket-iset looked up at him with her big eyes full of compassion. “So much evil in the world, Papa. How lucky we are on our little island.”

  Not many people would call you lucky, my dove, Hani thought, aching with the sweet weight of tenderness for his daughter. She made him think of the smiling Yanakh-amu. “You have the divine gift of seeing the good, Baket. I envy you that.”

  “This is a difficult moral question, Hani,” Nub-nefer said. “Do you want to talk to Amen-em-hut about it?”

  “I do want to talk to him, but not about that. What I need isn’t the official theological answer, just a gut intuition.” He smiled at the women. “And so I turn to my oracles.”

  “If you let him go free, he’ll just continue to hurt others,” Nub-nefer said with the ruthlessness of a mother who would do anything to protect her own.

  Hani nodded reflectively, unable to deny it. “But innocent lives will be ruined on top of everything else they’ve suffered if this comes out. It’s unjust, but that’s the way people are. Baket, my dear? What’s your answer?”

  “Let the gods decide, Papa. They’ll reveal their will.” Her dark eyes held Hani’s, and she smiled serenely.

  Hani and Nub-nefer looked at one another. They recognized the voice of divine wisdom. “Very well, my dear,” Hani said mildly. “Let them speak.” He resolved to see Yanakh-amu immediately. If the commissioner agreed to pursue Yapakh-addi, then Hani would see in that the will of Ma’at.

  ⸎

  Yanakh-amu’s home was every bit the palace Hani expected, but somehow, all he could see was the brittle mask of success over a life of suffering and victimhood, as if it were all made of beautiful, fragile glass. The thought made him profoundly sad. Yanakh-amu was in bed, with no one but servants around, his eyes bloodshot and sunken.

  “Hani, how kind of you to come see me,” he said weakly. There was still a flush of fever in his cheeks. He reached out to take Hani’s hand, and his fingers were burning hot. “So you don’t see me as some horrible criminal, my friend?” His mouth was smiling, but his voice held a note of pleading.

  “No, my lord. I think I might have done the same thing in your place. Let the Judge of Souls decide.” He squeezed the commissioner’s hand. Yanakh-amu let his head fall back against the headrest as if relieved. After a pause, Hani asked quietly, “Would you be willing to bring a suit against Yapakh-addi? Confront him in public? I know it will shame you and perhaps others he has victimized, but I don’t know how else to stop him.”

  Yanakh-amu was silent. When he spoke, his voice was so weak that Hani had to lean closer to hear him. “No need, Hani.” He fished behind his head with one hand and withdrew a folded papyrus covered with multiple wax seals. He handed it to Hani. “You know what this is, don’t you?”

  Hani did. He took the document into both hands and held it tightly against his chest. His heart was beating heavily as if he were engaged in some life-or-death action. “But you’re still alive, my lord. Are you willing to submit this to the king now?”

  The commissioner smiled. “By the time the king sees it, I will be dead. Will you take it for me? I find I’m not altogether sure of my servants after all that has happened. So many people turn out to be dishonest—myself included, alas. Perhaps that’s the basic human weakness. I warned you I wasn’t strong.” His smile deepened until the dimples furrowed his feverish cheeks, but his eyes looked close to tears.

  Hani found that his voice was unsteady when he spoke. “I will take it, Lord Yanakh-amu. Whenever you tell me you’re... ready.”

  “Now, Hani, please. Give it to the king’s chamberlain, and tell him the king will want to look at it immediately, I beg you. Take my yacht. The servants will alert the boat crew, and you can travel through the night. He cannot win...”

  Hani dropped to his knee, lifted Yanakh-amu’s hand once more, and pressed his lips to the knuckles, his homage to a final act of courage. He rose, swallowing hard, and bowed. “I go, my lord. May the Lady of the West receive you gently.”

  “Farewell, Hani,” said Yanakh-amu. “Oh, could you hand me that cup, please? Yes, that one next to the beaker.” Hani, cringing at the thought of what he was making himself a party to, set it in his superior’s hand, and with a final wobbly smile, departed from the room, his footsteps none too sure.

  Hani stopped by his own house only long enough to tell Nub-nefer that he was bound for Akhet-aten on an urgent mission. He was striding through the garden on his way out the gate before the astounded eyes of his father and Maya when the former called out, “Where are you in such a rush to, son?”

  Hani drew up to the men and said in a hasty undertone, “Father, I have to deliver something to the king with no delay. I’ll tell you about it soon.”

  Mery-ra’s eyes widened, but he shot his son a knowing look. Maya, in his innocence, eyed Hani with ill-concealed eagerness. “The king? Can I come with you?”

  But Hani had already resumed his path to the gate. “I’ll tell you both about it later.”

  Hani’s sense of haste had buffered him from thinking too
hard about what was happening. However, once he was reduced to immobility on the yacht, he could no longer avoid reflecting on what he’d done—what Yanakh-amu had chosen to do. The gods had indeed revealed their will. Yapakh-addi’s retribution was bounding down the River toward him in the form of a sealed document.

  The sleek, elegant yacht rode the current like a hawk on the wind, not even stopping by night, since Yanakh-amu had a second crew on board who hung lanterns and rowed through the starlit darkness while Hani dozed. A day and a half later, he thundered down the gangplank and took off from the embarcadero through the ceremonial bridge and past the Hall of Royal Correspondence. His breath was seething in his nose by the time he strode across the inner court of the central palace. To his relief, the red banners that signaled the king’s presence were hanging lazily from their flagpoles. Ahead, the towering obelisks with their golden pinnacles winked to either side, but he scarcely saw his surroundings. He felt as if his heels were winged and he floated on the broad pinions of an ibis, servant of the Lord of Justice. He was vaguely aware of other people here and there, but they were out of focus—his eyesight seemed to be calibrated only to take in the office of the chamberlain, into whose hand he must put his message.

  The majordomo who received him at the door of the palace led him directly to the chamberlain.

  “My lord.” Almost before he had risen from his bow, Hani greeted the official breathlessly. “I bear an urgent message from Lord Yanakh-amu for the king’s own eyes. The commissioner begs you to waste no time in presenting it to Our Sun.”

  “What’s it about, do you know?” Lord Tutu—called Big Tutu, to distinguish him from the vizier who’d formerly borne the same name—took the sealed document from Hani’s hand with an expression of surprise and curiosity on his face. He examined the seals and stared at the packet as if his eyes could pierce its folds.

  “A private matter between the Fan Bearer and our lord king. It must be delivered immediately, by the king’s orders. The security of the kingdom depends upon it.” Hani tried to put all his persuasive talents into the plea.