by N. L. Holmes
“He’s my father-in-law, but yes. And he’s up here in part to talk to you.”
“That so? Didn’t know I were so famous.” Shum-addi bellowed with laughter.
“Who were these other people that captured me if you’re the leader of the hapiru? Surely, you weren’t attacking your own men.”
“They likes to call themselves hapiru, but them’s sons o’ dogs. Why, half of ’em is your folks. Renegade soldiers. Ya know, ain’t none of us much more than runaway slaves, failed farmers, and escaped deportees, but I ain’t got much respect for soldiers who go over to the enemy.” His brows drew down in a scowl of contempt, then he added more cheerfully, “Even if the enemy’s me.”
Iy! Maya crowed silently. Here’s the man who can give us answers! “Whose soldiers are they, do you know?”
“Some from here, some from there. Some from Temesheq, some from Kumidi.” Shum-addi squatted next to Maya. “Say, you’re full o’ questions, little man.”
Maya swallowed his satisfaction and said, unashamed to flatter, “I told you, Lord Hani came up here to talk to you. He knew you’d know things nobody else would.”
Shum-addi laughed, the sort of laugh a bull or a rock might give, and squatted next to Maya. He called out to one of his men, who was passing, “Oy, bring us some beer for me an’ the little man.”
Maya bristled within, but he made himself stay pleasant, even a bit fawning. He accepted the pot and straw with gratitude, only then realizing how very thirsty he was, and drew a long, satisfying pull of the beer. “What about our commissioners? Are they in with these sons of dogs?”
Shum-addi slurped his with not much more manners than the jackal he claimed for a father. “Well, I wouldn’t say no, but neither would I say yes. They ain’t as hostile as they oughter be—let’s leave it at that. May well be it were one o’ them who paid those whelps to attack you. And o’ course, that Amanappa, why, he’s one of us for real.”
He must mean Amen-nefer. But Maya found his curiosity piqued. “What do you mean, ‘one of us’? He favors your cause?”
“Ba’al’s balls, no. I mean his mother was one of us. And a demon she was, from what I hear. I dunno personally, ’cause I’m younger ’n His Excellency, y’understand.”
Maya’s jaw dropped in astonishment. “His mother was a hapir? I thought Amen-nefer was born in Waset.”
“Prob’ly was. His father was a soldier. Did a little fraternizin’ with the enemy, if you takes my meanin’, an’ carted her off to the Two Lands. We was glad to see the end of ’er, from what the oldsters say.”
Maya took a pull of beer to hide the confusion that washed over him. Wait till Lord Hani hears that! “I guess that explains why he’s been harboring your people, if the rumors are true.”
“Couldn’t say. He’s done some pretty brutal things to my folks, on and off.” Shum-addi heaved himself to his feet. “Hard to know what he thinks.” He stretched his massive arms and looked down at Maya. “Guess I’ll take you back, little man. Yer no captive o’ mine. We don’t much like the idea of enslavin’ folks, as you c’n imagine.”
“Oh, bless you! Lord Hani will reward you, I know,” Maya cried gratefully. He supposed he ought to kiss the hapir’s feet, but it seemed a little distasteful, considering their condition.
Shum-addi turned back and whipped out his dagger. Maya recoiled in fear, but the man was only setting out to cut Maya’s hobble. “You won’t get far if yer run, so I don’t advise it. Better you wait till I takes yer back.” He made as if to go.
“Wait, my, er, lord. One more thing, if I may. Do you know who attacked the Babylonian diplomats’ caravan a few months ago?”
“Not us. Maybe them. Prob’ly.” He gestured around him at the camp. “We had other things to do round about that time. I don’t keep up with these bastards, ’cept when their doings get me and mine inter trouble. One o’ these days, though, they’ll be bowin’ down to me as their king—you watch.”
“I’ll certainly put in a good word for you.”
“I’ll have someone take yer to Azzati, little man. You tell the high commissioner what it was Shum-addi that set yer free, got it? Maybe he’ll wanna give me some kind o’ recognition, eh?” He ruffled Maya’s hair in a friendly fashion and strode away.
“May all the gods bless you!” Maya cried, wondering if it were treason to ask a blessing on an enemy, although it struck him that maybe Shum-addi’s men were not the enemy everyone assumed.
⸎
From Siduna, Pa-aten-em-heb’s men sent a contingent back to the foothills to collect their dead. Hani, gnawed with anxiety for Maya, accompanied them. Even after one night, it was clear that animals had been at the corpses; the vultures and crows were still there, flapping and strutting, confused by the superfluity of choices.
Hani prowled among the dead and saw that most of them were hapiru—but he saw no sign of Maya anywhere. “At least he’s probably alive,” he told himself, marginally encouraged. But where was he?
And then his eye was caught by a flash of black. A crow settled on one of the branches a little ways from the road. It bobbed up and down as if shaken by laughter and watched him with a beady, intelligent eye, but—abnormally for a crow—it never said a thing.
“You smug fellow. What’s so funny?” Hani called up to it. His love of birds was such that he forgot the tragedy of his predicament, if only for a moment. He could see by a glint of sunlight on the object that the crow had something shiny dangling from a cord in its beak. Something gold. “What have you got there to beautify your nest? Let go of that, you thieving bird.” Fearing lest the crow had stolen some personal object from one of the corpses, Hani picked up a pebble and chucked it at the branch.
The crow rose indignantly and flew to another perch, its treasure still in its beak. Then a second crow came swooping in over the road and settled on the branch beside the first. The newcomer cawed accusingly and tried to grab the gold object. The first bird opened its beak to shout out some imprecation, and the gold thing fell from its grasp into the dry grass and brush. Hani waded over to it quickly through the rough underbrush—oblivious to the gorse and brambles that tore at his legs—before the crow could descend to reclaim it. He snatched it up, catching a handful of dry leaves as well, and opened his palm to see it. It was a small solid-gold amulet of the dwarf god, Bes, with a broken leather thong attached.
“It’s Maya’s!” There was no mistaking the beautifully crafted little figure. What does this mean? Great Amen-Ra, who sees all, what can this mean? Has Maya been captured and left this as a clue? Hani stared at the amulet as if he expected it to speak. Had the hapiru dragged the secretary off with them, and if so, in which direction? The crow could have flown iterus with the Bes in its beak. Or perhaps the bird had robbed it from a corpse...
I must try to get Pa-aten-em-heb to look for him. And I’ll head back for Azzati and tell Lord Ptah-mes. He’ll know what to do.
Eventually, Hani reconciled himself to leaving Siduna and its neighboring hills and took ship for Azzati, where he would have the sad duty of reporting his son-in-law’s disappearance. Perhaps Lord Ptah-mes could mobilize his forces to find him. Otherwise, Hani feared he could never face his daughter again. And probably not himself either.
CHAPTER 11
“The high commissioner will see you now, my lord,” said the secretary on duty.
With dragging steps and lead in his stomach, Hani pushed Ptah-mes’s door open and entered then closed it carefully behind him. When he turned, prepared to greet Lord Ptah-mes, who should be standing at the side of the high commissioner’s chair but Maya, arms outstretched. Hani’s heart leaped into his throat with the surge of joy.
“Maya, my boy!” he cried, rushing forward to embrace him so exuberantly that he picked the little man up off the floor. He drew back and pressed the gold amulet into his son-in-law’s hand.
“Oh, bless you, my lord. I was afraid my patron had abandoned me!” Maya kissed the little figure. Because the cord was broken, he had to tie it
into a smaller loop and then hang it around his wrist.
Ptah-mes sat in discreet silence, smiling.
“Where have you been? We’d given up hope of finding you,” Hani said with a grin as he set his son-in-law down on his feet.
Maya said excitedly, “I was captured by the hapiru, Lord Hani. They were going to sell me into slavery, but then along came a different group of hapiru and chased them away.”
Hani turned to his superior in contrition. “Forgive me, my lord. I was so glad to see Maya that I forgot my manners.” He bowed, but there was no hiding the big smile on his face. He felt as if his cheeks were lit up as by a lamp.
Ptah-mes said with more than the usual warmth in his voice, “Quite understandable, Hani. Young Maya has recounted his adventures to me, and they’ve been very revealing. Tell your... our father-in-law what you found out, Maya.” He and Hani locked eyes in a knowing look.
Maya launched in with no further prodding, explaining how the first group of the hapiru—those who’d attacked their caravan—had destined him for the slave market, while the second group, led by Shum-addi, seemed to be their rivals. “Shum-addi told me that there were a lot of our renegade soldiers in the other group. He said they come from Temesheq and Kumidi, and Shum-addi’s group doesn’t respect them. He thinks someone paid them to attack us.”
“Yahya! As we suspected! Amen-nefer is in league with the brigands,” Hani crowed.
“Well, I don’t know, my lord. Shum-addi said the commissioner did terrible things to them now and then.”
“Imagine. He actually did his duty at least now and then,” Ptah-mes said dryly.
“But listen to this, Lord Hani!” Maya’s eyes were wide in excitement. “Shum-addi told me that Amen-nefer himself is half hapir. His mother was one of them, and his father, a soldier, brought her back to Waset.”
Hani’s mouth fell open in surprise. He looked up at Ptah-mes. “Were you aware of this, my lord?”
“After Maya mentioned it, I seemed to recollect something. I was only a child at the time, of course, but there was some gossip about the wild woman from Djahy who had married into a decent Theban family. It was the first of many scandals, I fear.”
“So how do we explain Amen-nefer’s hatred for the hapiru? You should have heard how ferocious he grew when they came up in our conversation.”
Ptah-mes shrugged. “I can’t explain it, unless he was shamed by his association with that bunch of outcasts and criminals.”
Hani nodded thoughtfully. “I have another Amen-nefer story to add, my lord. The afternoon of our departure, I transmitted to the commissioner the complaints of various vassal kings, including Urusalim, where I had just been. I wanted to tell him privately so he could respond without a public rebuke. But he grew incensed—way out of proportion to the offense. I got out as fast as I could, fearing, frankly, for my skin. And as soon as I’d closed the door, I heard him throwing things at it.”
Ptah-mes lowered his eyes, pensive. “He has a violent temper. It’s almost gotten him expelled from the army. There was a case a few years back when he was accused of slashing a girl’s face because she repulsed him.”
“I know, my lord. Because that girl happened to be the sister of the commander of our upcoming expedition, Lord Pa-aten-em-heb.”
Ptah-mes stared at Hani, his black eyes penetrating. “Do you think Amen-nefer might be our murderer?”
“We’ve wondered. I can’t imagine many other people would be vicious enough to treat a perfect stranger the way this person did. But what is his motive?”
“Perhaps he had no motive. Perhaps it was simply a case of rage overtaking him.”
Hani gazed into space, pondering. After a moment, he said, “You may well be right, my lord. But we have no proof. We can’t take him to the Hall of Justice just because we could imagine him committing murder.”
“Perhaps I can convince Ra-nefer to remove him from office at least. Even apart from murder, he’s curdled our relationship with our vassals by his behavior for seven years.” Ptah-mes heaved a sigh. “Once I could have done this myself, but now I’ll have to be canny about it—make our esteemed vizier think it’s his idea.” He smiled thinly. “Find evidence, Hani. I’d like to finish this carbuncle off.”
But Hani was a little unnerved by Ptah-mes’s cold determination to do Amen-nefer in. “What if there is no evidence? What if, in fact, he’s innocent? He was acquitted of attacking Pa-aten-em-heb’s sister.”
“He has connections, that’s all. He was guilty. Bring me proof.”
“Very well, my lord.” Hani tipped his head in submission. “Oh, Lord Ptah-mes, there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you ever since my last visit to Waset. It’s... it’s personal.” He glanced at Maya.
“I’ll withdraw to the reception hall, my lord,” Maya said, rising, and at a nod from Ptah-mes, he bowed his way out the door, pulling it shut behind him.
Hani cleared his throat. “Just before I left for the north, two of your children came to see me.”
Ptah-mes’s arched eyebrows rose. “Which ones?”
“Mut-em-wia and Huy. Huy looked a little apologetic. I suspect his sister had made him come.”
“No doubt.” Ptah-mes’s mouth twitched in a bitter smile. “Huy is easy to lead, and she is only too happy to do it. Were they welcoming you into the family?” he asked sarcastically.
Hani chuckled, feeling more and more discomfort. “Not exactly. They demanded that I make you and Neferet dissolve your marriage.”
Ptah-mes snorted. “What gives them the right to make such a demand? And what would give you the right to carry it out?”
“That’s what I told them, my lord. It... it became apparent in the course of the conversation that they felt they would lose their inheritance if you left everything to your new wife.”
“And they’re absolutely right.” Ptah-mes’s handsome face had grown flint hard. “I certainly won’t be able to count on them to take care of my tomb. Why should I leave them anything?”
Hani remembered how a bereaved Ptah-mes had once admitted that his collusion with the regime had been in the effort to preserve his property for his seven children. Things had apparently changed. Hani could suddenly see another reason for Ptah-mes’s unexpected acceptance of Neferet’s offer of marriage. She was an excuse for him to disinherit his cruel, judgmental offspring. I guess he is using her as well as she’s using him, Hani thought sadly. The loveless marriage of convenience between two people dear to him was a ball of lead in his heart. But they didn’t seem to mind.
“You know, my lord,” Hani said in a lower voice, “you don’t have to make Neferet your heir. Don’t feel we would be offended.”
“But I want to, Hani,” said Ptah-mes, his smile warming. “I’ve been able to do nothing for your career, but I can at least relieve you of worry for your daughter’s future. I’ll tell the servants not to let the children in. I don’t want them harassing her.”
This is a complicated affair. And speaking of motives, Ptah-mes has a whole list of them. Hani had thought he’d begun to know his superior, but now he wondered. He’s so disillusioned that he can find no good in anyone. Still, Hani had to admit that he himself had at one point disinherited his firstborn, Aha. Some things really were unpardonable—unless they were followed by repentance.
“Was there anything else, my friend?” Ptah-mes said, rising. He brushed automatically at his caftan, although its pleats were still perfect.
“I think not, my lord. What is my assignment?”
“Take some time to see your family, Hani. Then return to Djahy and find proof enough to arrest Amen-nefer.”
⸎
“I guess I’ll have a two-month-old son when I reach home, eh, my lord?” Maya was in a jaunty mood, breaking into a hum every so often.
Hani, observing with a smile, expected his secretary to start dancing at any moment on the deck of the boat that was bearing them back to Waset. “And I’ll have a two-month-old grandson... or gran
ddaughter.”
Maya leaned against the wicker gunwales, peering through the withies with a beatific expression on his face. Hani, from a higher vantage point, watched the banks of the Great River sliding past, green with rich farmlands or fringed with marshes. Here and there, the scatter of white and dun cubes that marked a village caught the eye, fringed with palms and plane trees, tossing in the breeze. Hani drew a deep, peaceful breath. He knew each of these communities as a familiar landmark on his route home. How often have I made this trip! And still the beauty of the Black Land brought tears to his eyes. The Lord Amen-Ra had made his portion, his Kemet, a magnificent temple to his splendor, which he guarded night and day and guided through the seasons.
And the present season was that of awaiting the life-giving Inundation. Down at Hani’s farm, the wheat would have been harvested and stored in the granary. Thanks to the irrigation canals Hani’s father had had dug when Hani and his brother, Pipi, were children, the vegetable gardens would be yielding a second crop. A small flock of colorfully feathered ducks rose up in a cloud from the bank opposite, their stubby orange legs trailing. They circled and headed south with the wind.
“It’s tranquil, isn’t it?” Hani said in a dreamy voice. “There’s no sound but the water and the wind in the sails.” He fanned himself with his wig. “It will be good to get home, away from murder and hatred and plague. Home to our little island, eh?”
“It will be good,” Maya agreed, his mouth spread in a wide grin of satisfaction.
In due time, they could see ahead of them the white walls of the Ipet-isut, shimmering in the summer heat above the low jumble of the City of the Scepter. The city grew nearer, with its blank-fronted houses—their high windows like little dark eyes squinted in laughter—and the walled villas of the more prosperous homes screened with trees. In the distance, the red mountains shimmered in the late-summer heat.
Maybe I’m getting old, but I never want to leave this place. Hani had lived in Men-nefer, when the vizier of the Lower Kingdom had been headquartered there, and he’d spent the better part of many years abroad, but his happiest moments had always been witnessed by this, the city of his birth.