The North Wind Descends

by N. L. Holmes

  “Like mother, like son,” Maya said, his lip curled.

  “And apparently, she was the reason he lost his eye. She hit him so hard it ruptured the eyeball, and the doctors had to take it out. They cauterized the socket.”

  Hani cringed. What a terrible thing to happen to a boy—maimed at the hand of his own mother. In spite of himself, he felt a twinge of pity for the child who had become a monster in turn. “How old was he?”

  “This was five or six years after the father’s death, so he must have been nine or ten.” Mery-ra settled himself in his chair. “Meryet-amen said the next scandal was the mysterious death of Amen-nefer’s wife—some years later, obviously. Her family suspected he’d murdered her.”

  “And killed their unborn child with her, from what I understand,” Hani said. “How did our friend get away with this one?”

  “Unknown, son. After his trial got off to an aggressive start, the judge dismissed the case, but what made him change his mind... who knows?”

  “I’ll bet Lord Ay intervened,” said Maya fiercely.

  Hani nodded, torn between sorrow for his land and icy disgust.

  “Well, I found out some things, too, Lord Hani,” Maya said. “Although it may not add any new information—we’re already getting a pretty clear picture of the sort of man the commissioner is. I found where his sister lives—at the old family home. Unmarried.”

  “How strange. Did you talk to her?”

  “The officer I spoke with said there was no point. She’s apparently gone a little...” He tapped the side of his head. “Not only did the poor woman have to deal with a drunken, abusive mother, but her brother abused her too. I think sexually. And I’ll bet not gently.”

  Mery-ra made grimaced, and Hani let out a breath. “What a specimen. Just the sort you’d promote to represent us abroad, isn’t he?”

  “Isesi-ankh—that’s the man I talked to—said Amen-nefer hates women. Well, not too surprising, I guess, if he thought they were all like his mother.”

  “Maybe that’s why he wanted all the hapiru to be sent to the gold mines too.”

  “No doubt,” said Mery-ra.

  The three men were silent. Hani felt contaminated even by the thought of such malice, yet he could picture a frightened child beaten by his mother until he lost an eye, and he felt his own thirst for vengeance losing its fangs. He said dully, “May the gods protect us from ourselves. Plague is a terrible scourge, but it’s nothing compared to what we inflict upon one another.”

  “Speak for yourself.” Mery-ra—as usual, trying to lighten the moment—smiled at his son, but the sparkle of genuine levity was missing.

  Hani heaved a sigh. “I think it’s time you and I went back north, Maya. We’ve found lots of evidence that our suspect might have murdered Shulum-marduk, but no actual proof that he did.”

  “You mean go back to Kumidi? Knowing the commissioner has it in for you? I’ll bet it was he who sent the hapiru to kill us.” Maya’s eyes were wide.

  “Well, at least to Azzati. I’m hoping that Lord Ptah-mes may have some ideas about how to proceed.”

  Mery-ra said avidly, “If there is anything else you want investigated in your absence, my son, your old father is ready.”

  Hani grinned affectionately. “My reverend old father, you mean?”

  No doubt seeing Hani in a better humor, Mery-ra chuckled. “I’ll accept noble or august in a pinch.”

  Hani rose. “Well, gentlemen, let’s relax this afternoon, because you and I, Maya, have a long trip ahead of us.”

  ⸎

  That afternoon, as Hani was sitting cross-legged on the floor of the salon, trying to add a few maxims to his collection, he heard from the vestibule a loud, cheerful female voice that could only belong to Neferet. Sure enough, she burst into the room and flew to her father, but since he was seated, she could not throw her arms around him. Instead she squatted in front of him. “Papa! I’m so happy!”

  “Why, my duckling?” he asked, thinking this was the setup for a joke.

  “Because Baket-iset is alive, of course.” She plopped down on the floor at Hani’s side and hugged his arm.

  He stroked his daughter’s shaven head and gave her a kiss on the ear. “Thanks to you, my love. We’re forever grateful to you and Bener-ib.”

  “There wasn’t much we could do for her, Papa—just try to get the fever down. It was Sekhmet who cured her.”

  “How is it you’re here? Don’t tell me today is another feast day.”

  She grinned, a look somewhere between pleased with herself and guilty. “I’m on a mission for the queen.”

  Hani froze. He didn’t want to have anything more to do with the queen and her machinations, and he certainly didn’t want his nineteen-year-old daughter to get sucked into court politics. He said warily, “Oh?”

  “Yes.” Neferet snuggled up to him, and Hani had the feeling she was softening him up to ask something of him. “She wants to talk to you.”

  May the Hidden One protect me, Hani thought, alarmed. Is my investigation cutting too close for the comfort of the queen’s father, Lord Ay?

  “When does she want to see me, my duckling? It will take me half a week to get to Akhet-aten.”

  “Oh, she’s here in Waset, Papa. I mean Queen Meryet-aten.”

  Hani stared at his daughter in surprise. Meryet-aten was Nefer-khepru-ra’s eldest daughter and the newly crowned great royal wife of Ankh-khepru-ra Smenkh-ka-ra, the coregent. “How does she even know I exist?”

  Neferet grinned proudly. “I told her you could help her.”

  Hani buried his face in his hands. “Oh, Neferet. I’m trying to avoid getting tangled in the affairs of the royal women.” He thought of how close to disaster his involvement in the rivalry between Queen Nefert-iti and the Greatly Beloved Wife, Kiya, had swept him. “I’m involved in a case in Djahy.”

  “But, Papa, how long can it take just to talk to her? She’s only seventeen. She needs somebody’s advice.”

  He put an arm around his daughter and heaved a reluctant sigh. The damage was done. Once the queen had summoned him, he was obliged to go. But I need to get back to Kumidi to prosecute my case against Amen-nefer before the commissioner kills off all the slaves who witnessed his crime. Before the king of Sangar declares war... “When, then, duckling?”

  “She said you should come with me tomorrow when I come to the palace with Lord Pentju.”

  “Lord Pentju? He’ll see me going to talk to the queen? Oh, Neferet, this sounds like a very bad idea, my love.” Hani could feel sweat starting to break out on his forehead. Pentju, a priest of the Aten as well as a physician, was close to the king.

  But Neferet waved her hand dismissively. “No, no, Papa. He and I go separately. I just meet him there. He takes care of the men, and I take care of the women.”

  “What happened to Lady Djefat-nebty? I thought she was the royal sunet.”

  “She is, but she’s in Akhet-aten. Now that there are two courts, somebody has to take care of the younger queen and her ladies. And that’s me and Bener-ib!”

  Hani was proud in spite of himself. He squeezed Neferet to him. “She trusts you like a colleague, eh, duckling? You’re getting to be a real professional.”

  “Of course,” she said matter-of-factly. “I’ve been studying for six years.”

  Dear gods, has it been that long? The years were passing so quickly that Hani felt they must be picking up speed as they rolled along. Father is nearly seventy, he thought with a twinge of fear. Mery-ra certainly seemed strong and hale, but for how much longer? Hani wanted that no one he loved should ever grow old and die.

  He asked in a gentle voice tinged with amusement, “Neferet, my dear, why did you even mention my name to the queen? You’ve listened in on enough grown-up conversations over the years that you should realize I’m trying to stay below the notice of the royal family.”

  Neferet faced him earnestly. “But, Papa, she’s just a young girl. And she doesn’t trust her family
to tell her the truth. And I know how wise and comforting you are.” She leaned up and kissed his cheek, her little brown eyes melting.

  The irresistible puppy look again. “Truth about what? What under the sun do I know about any royal affairs?”

  Neferet shrugged extravagantly so that Hani suspected she knew but wasn’t going to tell him. He let out a heavy breath. Ammit take it. Trapped again. “Very well. I’ll be ready whenever you want to set out.”

  Victorious, the girl scrambled to her feet and chirruped gaily, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” She bounced out through the front door and away, leaving Hani both disgruntled and curious.

  ⸎

  Neferet—Bener-ib in tow—came for her father the next morning with a pair of Lord Ptah-mes’s litters. She seems to be adapting quickly to the role of very rich mistress of the house, Hani observed in amusement, although the thought of her manipulative marriage still annoyed him. They mounted the two vehicles, girls in one and Hani in the other, and set off in luxury, swaying and bobbing, for the new southern palace near the Ipet-isut and the Ipet of the South. Not far from Ptah-mes’s mansion. That makes it easier for her to go to work. Hani wondered if she took a litter or walked every day. Certainly, Neferet wasn’t lacking in energy, and he couldn’t imagine her being concerned with what people would think of the wife of a grandee afoot.

  The new palace, Teni-menu—“exalted are the monuments of the Sun Disk forever”—was set in among the disturbing temples to the Aten that Nefer-khepru-ra had built while he was still coregent, and indeed, it had a templelike look to it, with its majestic pylon and high whitewashed wall. In the weak, hot breeze, the banners hung limp from their flagpoles, indicating the presence of King Ankh-khepru-ra. With Hani letting her lead the way, Neferet strode up to the guard and hailed him familiarly. He obviously recognized her and Bener-ib, but he cast a dubious eye at Hani.

  “This is my father. He has an audience with the King’s Great Wife,” Neferet said confidently.

  The man bowed and stepped aside for the three of them. Within, a majordomo appeared from nowhere and led the way respectfully toward the apartments of the queen and her ladies.

  Hani was curious to see the differences between this Theban palace and the old Per-hay across the river. It was smaller, simpler in layout—a home rather than a state residence—but with comparable beauty and luxury. They hastened through richly painted corridors splashed with sunlight from a courtyard garden he could glimpse only obscurely. Scenes of the late king’s first heb-sed festival decorated the walls.

  Our Sun God had a taste for jubilees even then, Hani thought wryly. According to Amen-em-hut, that was when the Osir Neb-ma’at-ra had turned into the Aten and all their present woes had begun.

  At a magnificent pair of gilded doors, the majordomo stopped Hani and the girls. “I’ll announce your presence.” When he returned, he bowed them through without a word.

  Two handmaids stood within, silhouetted against the sunlight filtering in through gauzy curtains. One led the young doctors away with her, and the other approached Hani. “If my lord would follow me...”

  She turned and, Hani at her heels, made her way through the airy room to a porch, where the curtains billowed inward with the faint breeze from a garden beyond. She led Hani down the steps between painted columns and across the garden to a small kiosk that overlooked a long pool. Reed blinds were drawn along the sunny side to create some shade, but he could see a flash of white clothing from within.

  The handmaid melted away, leaving Hani at the step of the pavilion. He looked up to see the Great Queen of Ankh-khepru-ra standing before him. Meryet-aten was a slim, beautiful young woman—very young, in fact. Neferet had told him she was seventeen, and Hani would have said that she looked both older and younger than that, her body still slender and undeveloped but her face, beneath her round wig with a jeweled sidelock, poised and serious and every inch the queen. She had her mother’s broad, juicy cheekbones and her father’s pointed chin and lush lips. What a little beauty, Hani thought then chastised himself.

  The queen said, “Lord Hani.” There was something of Nefert-iti’s smokiness in her voice.

  “My lady.” Hani made a deep court obeisance, hands on his knees.

  “Your daughter and I have become friends, Lord Hani. She is honest and innocent, unlike everyone else in this place.”

  Hani smiled, pleased that her royal mistress appreciated Neferet’s qualities. “My lady is too kind. I thank you on behalf of my daughter.”

  Meryet-aten seated herself gracefully on an inlaid chair and motioned Hani to the stool that stood before it. “She said you might be able to help me.” The young queen stared at Hani, and he could see that, despite her regal poise, there was uncertainty there inside. Her voice dropped. “Who is Prince Tut-ankh-aten?”

  Hani sat back, on alert. He dared not let her know that Neferet had revealed there was any doubt about the prince’s identity. “The Haru in the nest? Why, he’s my lady’s brother.”

  A skeptical smile hardened her face. “Is he?” The queen rose as if too full of nerves to remain still, and Hani followed suit. Meryet-aten began to pace. “The day my mother gave birth seven years ago, I was present at her lying-in. I was only ten or eleven, but I remember it all very clearly. Neferet was there, too, a young apprentice to Lady Djefat-nebty, not much older than I was. As soon as my mother had borne her child, even before she’d seen the baby, Djefat-nebty whispered to Neferet, and she took the child and disappeared with it. A few minutes later, she returned with another baby, and the sunet laid that baby next to my mother. It was a boy. Everybody was all happy that the queen had borne an heir at last, and they went off to tell my father the good news.”

  Hani’s heart was hammering. Neferet had been involved in this—she’d told him long ago—but it made him uneasy to think that her role in the deception was so clearly remembered. “What makes you think it was another baby, my lady?” he asked mildly.

  She stopped walking and faced Hani, her eyes burning. “Because the first baby was dead.”

  He stood there for a long space, unease rising in him like a tide. Does she hold this deception against Neferet? Finally, he said, “I don’t see how I come into this, my lady.”

  The young queen drew a deep breath as if to calm herself. “I asked Neferet about it recently. Asked her who the baby really belonged to. She told me that Sit-pa-aten, the sister of the king, my father, had given birth elsewhere in the palace, and that they wanted to give my mother the joy of a boy child. But, Hani,” she said grimly, fixing him with a burning stare, “my aunt was never pregnant.”

  Hani was caught short. The situation was even more complex than it had appeared to be. He said nothing—dared to say nothing.

  “Neferet honestly believed that she was the mother. Someone had obviously told her that, and why would she question it? She had never seen Sit-pa-aten. But she didn’t know what I knew. And so I ask you—whose child is he who will wear the double crown, Hani?” The queen took a step toward him.

  Hani swallowed hard, suspecting where this was going. “I’m sure I have no idea, my lady. Are you telling me to investigate this?”

  “Yes. And find out who is behind it. Although I’m almost sure it was my grandfather. He would do anything to keep my mother in favor, even making sure by trickery that she bore an heir.”

  “Does Our Sun your father know about this?”

  “No, I think not—although I could be mistaken.” She dropped her gaze and bit her lip, but it was not a gesture of hesitancy. Her eyes were aflame when she looked up. “If the crown prince is not of royal blood, he must not come to the throne, Hani.”

  Hani felt beads of sweat beginning to spring forth on his temples. Of all the things I didn’t want to be involved in. He said, “Perhaps he never will, my lady. Your royal husband is coregent—”

  “But not heir,” she cut in, a bitter expression on her face. “And with good reason. My father just wants to put Waset under his t
humb, and so my uncle is a useful figurehead.”

  “Surely, Ankh-khepru-ra Smenkh-ka-ra will serve as the crown prince’s coregent. If you and he have a son, perhaps that son would follow rather than a child of Tut-ankh-aten.”

  But she hung her head as if reluctant to show Hani her expression. “He won’t have a son by me.”

  Hani was curious, but the story behind that statement was none of his business. “My lady, you should be aware that I have no contacts in the palace or in royal circles generally. I’m not sure how I’m expected to proceed here...”

  “Of course you have a contact, Hani.” The queen smiled, triumphant, her deliciously appled cheeks blazing. “Neferet.”

  No. No. I won’t get my daughter—my dangerously indiscreet daughter—involved in court politics with such high stakes. Ay would kill her in a moment if he thought she was onto his secret. If it was Ay. Hani stood silent, wondering if he dared to refuse this imperious girl who was both the daughter of a king and the wife of a king.

  Meryet-aten’s smile fell. “She told me you could help me,” she said in a pouty voice. Suddenly, Hani realized how young she was, despite her cool adult ways.

  “So you just want me to find out whose child the crown prince is? Who the woman who gave birth in the other room was?”

  She lifted her chin, her eyes regaining their avid spark. “I command you to do it. And I’ll make it worth your while.”

  Hani’s heart sank like lead. “If my queen commands, I have no choice.” He bowed deeply, hoping she couldn’t see his expression of distaste.

  “No. You haven’t,” she said with a satisfied smile.

  A few minutes later, Hani was escorted alone from the palace, the two young doctors having remained for their day’s work. It was still early outside out there in the normal world—the world untouched by deadly royal luxury, sophistication, and lies. Hani wondered if Nefer-khepru-ra would be informed of Hani’s visit.