The North Wind Descends

by N. L. Holmes

  “Of course, my lord. But it... it’s the scene of that murder and is still...” He trailed off, looking queasy.

  “It’s all right. We’ve seen it once. I’m really more interested in a service passage that leads to it.”

  “Of course. But I assure you that no one knew about it, if you’re thinking that’s how the murderer got in.”

  No one except the commissioner, Bayadi, and you, Hani thought grimly. They followed the majordomo up the stairs and into the hall of bedchambers where Hani had been housed before. But instead of stopping at the door of the murder scene, the man led them around the bend in the hall to a low, narrow panel that had the look of a cupboard.

  “It’s through here, my lord. I’m sorry, it’s dark, but I can bring you a lamp if you want.”

  “That might not be a bad idea, if you would. We’ll wait here.”

  As soon as the majordomo had clopped off down the hall, Hani said to Maya in barely more than a whisper, “This secret corridor serves the murder room, which used to be Amen-nefer’s. I was told nobody knows about it, but clearly, the commissioner himself does.”

  “One more piece of evidence against him.” Maya grinned, a look of savage satisfaction.

  The official returned with a lit lamp in his hands, and Hani and Maya opened the little door, Hani stooping to enter the shadows. “This doesn’t lock from the outside, does it?” he called back out.

  “No, my lord. Just be sure it’s pulled to when you come back out. I have some duties to see to, if you don’t mind.”

  “Go on. We’ll be fine. And thank you.”

  Hani entered the suffocating little corridor, holding the lamp out in front of him. It smelled stale, but there were no cobwebs, so it was maintained, perhaps regularly used. To sneak the battered girls out unseen, he thought bitterly. So inadequate was their little light they almost stumbled into the door at the other end, which had a high sill. Hani fumbled it open with one hand only to find more darkness waiting, but a twilit darkness this time, with a bright crack a hand’s span up from the floor. He gave the obstruction of the door a push and discovered it was a curtain or hanging, which clung about his hand like a heavy cloak.

  “Here, Maya, take the lamp for a moment.” He passed the little clay vessel back to his secretary and pushed with both hands, drawing the curtain to the side.

  They stepped over the raised sill and found themselves once more in the room where Shulum-marduk had died, with its scrubbed brown-stained walls and floor and its ruined bedframe. The shutters at the window were closed, but they, too, had been splattered. They must have been drawn when this happened; it had been night. Hani let the curtain drop behind him. It was a handsome tapestry, with palm trees and hunting animals, such as might grace any luxurious bedchamber in Djahy, but splattered and defiled by droplets of blood. Hani only dimly remembered seeing the hanging, so riveted had his eyes been on the marks of violence.

  “Well, then,” said Maya, looking around. “So that’s how the murderer got in without unlocking the door.”

  “That passage must be cut into the thickness of the outer wall. The majordomo said it was used for discreet services, like getting girls in and out.”

  “What shape were they in when they left, I wonder?” Maya said wrinkling his nose in distaste.

  “I’m sure Shulum-marduk had no idea his room was wide-open despite the locked door. The others said they’d all been spooked after the robbery of their caravan. Perhaps that’s why Amen-nefer vacated this particular room rather than giving his visitor another.” Hani stared around, hoping some new detail would leap out at him from the shadows.

  “So you think the commissioner had it in for our Babylonian even before he arrived?”

  “That’s the part I can’t figure out. What could his motive have been?” Hani stroked his chin, his thoughts in confusion. “Although if he had something nefarious in mind, that might have been the explanation behind the attack on the caravan. He probably would have known the Babylonians were crossing his territory; that’s his duty, after all.”

  Maya gave a snort. “So is defending them.”

  “Well,” said Hani, “let’s get out of Kumidi before our friend comes back and catches us interrogating his slaves.”

  They made their way out of the residence and across the broad court to where their escort and litter bearers awaited them. The wind had freshened, kicking up little curly cyclones of dust in the footsteps of passersby.

  “I hope the rains aren’t coming. That might mean we’d have to travel home by land.”

  Maya looked stricken. “Oh no. That would take so much longer.”

  “And someone has a new baby to play with,” said Hani with a smile.

  ⸎

  When the two scribes arrived back in Azzati, they found the diplomatic pouch had arrived. Hani unrolled the first papyrus eagerly and sniffed it. It was from Nub-nefer—still redolent of her perfume of lilies and bergamot. In the bold script of Mery-ra, she brought him up to date on news of the family. Baket-iset was continuing to recover. She felt a little sad sometimes, her thoughts drawn back and back

  to the freshly recalled memories of her accident. But true to her nature, she was brave and managed to be cheerful most of the time. Mai-her-pri had become a sturdy little fellow.

  “In-hapy says he’s going to be a dwarf,” Mery-ra wrote. “I hope Maya doesn’t mind. Sat-hut-haru certainly doesn’t seem to.” And Tepy was losing his second tooth. At the end, Mery-ra conveyed his usual greetings and added a bit of news. “The king hasn’t been seen at recent ceremonies, only Ankh-khepru-ra, or whatever Smenkh-ka-ra is calling himself, and the two queens. The beautiful Nefert-iti is getting quite plump. Love, your esteemed father.”

  His heart filling with tenderness for his family so far away, Hani folded the papyrus bundle. He saw Maya beaming as he read his missive from Sat-hut-haru. Then he saw another folded letter with Lord Ptah-mes’s seal, although Hani didn’t recognize the script, which was a little rickety and not very expert.

  When he opened it, he found it was Neferet’s reply to his own communication. She must have had one of her husband’s mounted couriers bring it to Azzati. “Dear Papa,” she wrote. “You asked me to sniff around and see if anyone in the capital remembered anything about a strange woman being hustled up here when the crown prince was born. Of course, I’m not in Akhet-aten much at the moment, but I made a point of going. I saw the old midwife who was on duty that day—why, she must be your age.”

  As old as all that? Hani thought with a fond smile.

  “Here’s what she said: there were no additional midwives or anyone brought in from the House of Royal Ornaments. Then she sort of stumbled and said, ‘Of course, there was her...’ I tried to pump her, but she said it was worth her nose and ears to say. What do you suppose she meant? I hope you’ve found out something for Queen Meryet-amen. I’ve sworn to help her. May Ma’at bite my nipples and the seven-headed demons carry off my favorite kitten if I don’t. So you can see this is serious business, Papa. Love, Neferet. Qenyt said to greet you.”

  Hani chuckled at his irrepressible daughter, but a little shiver of excitement raised the hair on his arms as well. Was this mysterious “her” the woman Amen-nefer accompanied from Hut-nen-nesut, at Ay’s behest? Who could she have been?

  CHAPTER 14

  Before Hani departed the following day, Lord Ptah-mes called him into his office. “A soldier dragged in last night, Hani. He’d been making his way across the desert on foot for some days, a survivor of another caravan raided by the hapiru.”

  “Which group of hapiru, my lord?”

  “You’ll have to ask him, my friend.” Ptah-mes called his secretary to bring the man in.

  The soldier was a thin, sunburned, ill-shaven youth with his hair cut in the shape of a round wig. The man saluted the high commissioner.

  “Tell Lord Hani what you have to report, soldier,” Ptah-mes said.

  The young man looked back and forth between Hani and P
tah-mes, not sure exactly whom he should be addressing. “I’m stationed at Kumidi, my lords, and have been these four years. I was part of the escort of a trading caravan heading for the coast. After all that’s happened, someone seemed to think we couldn’t be too careful.”

  “That was me,” Ptah-mes inserted. He caught Hani’s eye with a knowing glint.

  “Well, we weren’t far away from Kumidi. The traders had come from Temesheq and were heading to Siduna, you see. I was a scout, so I went ahead of the group, and that’s what saved me. We were following the pass through the mountains where the Abara flows—if you’ve never seen it, it’s all high mountains, full of rocks and dry forests—when suddenly, out of the mountains, a group of ragged men, whooping and making odd noises with their tongues like mourning women, came pouring. It was an indefensible spot we were in, and they outnumbered us. I could see all this from higher up the mountainside, where I’d gone to scout.”

  He swallowed with difficulty, and Ptah-mes poured him a cup of water from his beautiful bronze ewer. After downing it gratefully, the soldier continued. “They were surely hapiru, my lords, but not like the other hapiru I’ve faced. These were a wild, undisciplined group. Everyone seemed to be fighting for himself, if you follow me. Some of them got to ransacking the wagons, and they completely forgot there was a battle going on—they just filled their arms and ran. But I saw an Egyptian or two among them who seemed to know what they were doing. I’ve heard... I’ve heard that some of our own men have gone over to the brigands.”

  The scout looked back and forth between Hani and Ptah-mes as if he didn’t expect them to believe him. “But I swear I saw them. And then...” He swallowed again. “I looked up the hillside, and I thought I saw the commissioner, Lord Amen-nefer, standing with a group of men, watching. I crouched in a bush so they couldn’t see me in return. There was another fellow there whom I’ve seen before, but I couldn’t place him. A powerful-looking man in his middle years—curly graying hair, balding on the crown. I couldn’t see his face very well. He seemed to be in charge.”

  “Biryawaza, I would wager,” Ptah-mes said with that pinched white nose that said he was angry.

  “Merchants and troops were pretty well wiped out, my lords. I went down after the battle to try to help any wounded. But all I could do was put them on one of the carts and hope they could get back somewhere safe. I couldn’t go back to Kumidi, seeing what I’d seen.”

  Ptah-mes let his breath out heavily.

  “Did you happen to notice a man with unusually hairy arms, son?” asked Hani, his heart pounding.

  “Could be, my lord. But I wasn’t very close, so it would be hard to say for sure.”

  Hani turned to Ptah-mes, who was staring into space with a stony expression on his face. “Surely we can convict him now, my lord. For treason, if nothing else,” he said, the too-familiar gush of icy rage pouring through his body, weighing down his breath.

  “I think we can do that, yes.” Ptah-mes’s face was like a blade of flint, and Hani saw a muscle jumping in his cheek. “Thank you, soldier. You’re dismissed.”

  The scout saluted and left. Hani and Lord Ptah-mes stared at one another. Hani could feel his face growing so cold that it burned as the rage made its way to the top. “How do we proceed?”

  “Legally, I should notify the vizier and ask his permission to make an arrest.” The high commissioner shot Hani a glance, his eyes glittering. “But he’ll say no, because Ay won’t let that happen to his henchman.”

  “He mustn’t get off,” Hani cried through gritted teeth.

  “So,” Ptah-mes continued, his voice expressionless, “we will stay calm, my friend.”

  “But—” Hani protested.

  “And we will resist.” Ptah-mes looked up at Hani, and an icy smile spread over his fine features. “We’ll arrest him anyway.”

  ⸎

  By the time Hani had regained his apartment, the frightening, ugly inundation of wrath had ebbed. We’re going to be operating illegally, he reminded himself. The two men had done that once before, when Ptah-mes’s wife’s murderer had seemed likely to escape punishment. It had ended with Ptah-mes broken in rank and sent to the ends of the earth. If only I could find a witness to the assassination of Shulum-marduk. That would remake an act of insubordination into a heroic solution to an international crime and avert the threat of war.

  “You know,” said Hani to Maya as they sat down to lunch in their room, “I would feel a lot safer if we could find a little more evidence of this murder.”

  “But you said Amen-nefer was caught in the very act of treason, my lord.” Maya stared at Hani incredulously. “Surely, that’s enough.”

  “That’s enough to get him put to death, but it won’t satisfy the Babylonians unless they’re convinced he was really the murderer of their man. Our case isn’t quite closed.” Hani tore off a chunk of flatbread and swiped it through the creamy white sauce they’d been served.

  “What do we do now, then?”

  “We wait once more for the all clear and head to Kumidi. I want to talk to Zalaya’s wife.”

  They fell to, their appetites sharpened by danger—because they were in danger if Amen-nefer got wind of their snooping around his residence in his absence. The two scribes had no sooner licked from their fingers the last of their lunch when a knock sounded at the door. Maya popped up and went to open it.

  A servant of Lord Ptah-mes stood in the opening, with another man in the shadows behind him. He called out over Maya’s head, “Lord Hani, there’s a soldier here to see you. Lord Maya thought you would want to talk to him.”

  Hani exchanged a surprised look with Maya, who stepped aside to let the soldier enter. He couldn’t have been much more than Aha’s age. He looked around him uncomfortably then fisted his chest in a salute. “Lord Hani, my name is Neb-amen. I’m assigned to this garrison. Lord Maya said to tell you that he looked at the dossier of the man you’re interested in and found out something of interest. I... I was a witness to it, and so he asked me to speak to you.”

  A thrill of excitement lifted the hair on Hani’s arms. At last—a new lead! “Come in, Neb-amen. Have a seat. Maya, perhaps you’d be so good as to record this conversation.” Hani and the soldier settled themselves on the stools while Maya folded his legs and unrolled a sheet of papyrus across his knees.

  The soldier swallowed hard and sat up erect on his stool, as if he were making a formal report. “Lord Maya saw my name on the register of assignments and thought you’d want to hear what I have to say. Seven years ago, I was part of Lord Amen-nefer’s mission to take a woman from Hut-nen-nesut to Akhet-aten. He was just an officer at that time. Lord Amen-nefer and I were both posted up here at Kumidi, so I don’t know why they didn’t just use some troops from Hut-nen-nesut. But we went down there anyway. We collected the pregnant woman from the House of the Royal Ornaments. She was dressed like a servant—for sure not one of the king’s Ornaments, although she was pretty enough. And we escorted her up to the capital and turned her over to the God’s Father at the palace.”

  Hani was tingling all over. “You say a pregnant woman?”

  “That’s right, my lord. Ready to give birth, seems to me.”

  “What happened to her afterward? Did you escort her back?”

  “No, my lord. I never saw her again. She must have had her baby, though. Lord Amen-nefer was promoted to commissioner soon afterward.” The soldier rubbed his knees nervously.

  “Were you told anything about this mission—why the woman was wanted?” Hani pressed.

  “No, my lord. Nothing. Not to me, at least. Maybe Lord Amen-nefer knew.”

  “And this was seven years ago, you say. Do you remember the season?” Hani knew he was throwing too many questions at the poor man, but his pulse had quickened with eagerness.

  “I’m afraid not, my lord. One mission runs into another after a while.”

  “Anything you can add to that, my friend? Any other recollections at all?”

 
; Neb-amen chewed his lip in an effort to recall. “I think I heard Lord Ay say to Amen-nefer, ‘The queen must remain upon the throne.’ Or something of that sort.” He looked up at Hani apologetically. “I’m sorry; it’s been a long time. And they told us not to say anything to anyone. But what could I have said? I knew nothing.”

  Hani stood up. It sounded as if one of the cases he was investigating had just been solved. “You’ve been very helpful, Neb-amen. I’ll certainly put in a good word for you with the high commissioner.”

  The soldier rose and saluted. “Thank you, my lord.”

  Hani let him out with a smile and turned to Maya, beaming.

  “What’s that all about?” his secretary asked, climbing to his feet.

  “Ah, I’ve never told you about my other case, eh. Doing a little investigation for Queen Meryet-amen.”

  Maya goggled at him, and Hani proceeded to tell his son-in-law about the mission Neferet had brought him. “So you think that this woman was brought in because her birthing day corresponded to the queen’s?” Maya said. “And that her baby boy was the one switched out for the queen’s dead child?” His eyes wide, he shook his head. “How could they have foreseen that Nefert-iti’s baby would be born dead? Or that that woman’s child would be a boy? This strikes me as very dangerous knowledge to hold, my lord.”

  “Too true. It might have been worth it to Ay to take no chances. The queen’s baby might well have been another girl, even if it had been born alive. We know how ruthless he is. But the queen and the king himself have just as much invested in not letting this become public. Prince Tut-ankh-aten is the heir to the throne, after all.” This was not a secret Hani was happy to guard. He couldn’t help but wonder what had become of the hapless mother.

  Maya considered the situation. “Do you think Lady Meryet-amen will contest the throne with him? After Ankh-khepru-ra Smenkh-ka-ra, she’s closest to the king by blood, and she certainly seems to be unwilling to accept a spurious prince.”