by N. L. Holmes
“I’ll follow you, my lord,” Kalbaya said in his excellent Egyptian. He turned doglike eyes of gratitude upon Hani. “You’ve saved me. How can I ever repay you?”
“Saved you from servitude or saved you from a terrible master? I’m sure the next one wouldn’t have been so bad. Not all Egyptians are like Amen-nefer.”
“He was a demon,” the former said between his teeth. His deep voice was so full of emotion that it trembled. Hani, a little shocked, cast a glance at his amiable face contorted with hatred. “I would gladly have killed him if I could. All of us would.”
Hani said grimly but no longer with much anger, “I think I understand that. I would have too. He did something terrible to my daughter.”
Kalbaya stared at him with a sudden surge of hope in his eyes. But then a look of pain crumpled his bushy eyebrows. “One of these days, I have something to tell you, my lord. But not till I’m out of Djahy.”
Hani turned a compassionate face toward him. “Whenever you feel ready, son.”
Kalbaya dropped back, and Hani continued his march, pensive. Another sad story of Amen-nefer’s crimes, no doubt. How could such a man ever have been given a position of power?
From Surru, they sailed not to Azzati as planned but directly for home. There was no longer any reason to visit the administrative capital—Ptah-mes was at Kumidi. It occurred to Hani that there might have been letters for him and Maya there, but it would be even better to be home and get the news in person. And at last, the Great Green, with its heaving waves and smell of fish, was behind them, and they glided through the marshes of the Lower Kingdom in a river ferry. Hani felt he could draw a pure breath of air for the first time in a long while.
⸎
At Akhet-aten, his military escort left him. Hani wrote his wife a letter and sent it ahead by mounted courier, pushing his diplomatic privilege. At some point, he would need to report to the vizier, but he knew Lord Ptah-mes had informed him of events, so he followed his heart up to Waset. Maybe, in the depths of him, he wasn’t keen on returning to the Hall of Royal Correspondence and the censure that could be waiting for him at Ra-nefer’s hands.
He and Maya stood leaning on the gunwales as the City of the Scepter slid into sight, reflected in the brilliant faience blue of the water. Hazy in the steamy air, he saw at a distance the towering pylons of the Ipet-isut, the greatest temple in the world. May your reign be restored, oh Hidden One, he prayed. And perhaps that may be sooner rather than later.
They drew nearer and nearer. Their ferry was angling toward the quay, where hundreds of other boats swarmed like bees, some coming and some going, sails spread or rowers plying the paddles, the legs of aquatic insects. Hani took a deep breath. The smell of the land was perfume to him. Rich earth. Green fields—yes, green had a smell, he realized—and the deep, corporeal, intimate if slightly musky tang of the Great River itself. It had always reminded him of the smell of what lay between a woman’s legs, and it was just as much the source of life. Maya, gazing out through the wickerwork, was silent as well, dreaming, no doubt, of his wife and children and the baby he’d barely seen before he had left.
Behind them, Kalbaya expressionlessly watched the shore as they approached the city. Hani wondered what was in his thoughts. He’d apparently left no family behind him in Kumidi. Is he sorry or exhilarated to find himself in a strange land?
The hull scraped the landing, the stone anchors were dropped, and the sailors threw out their painters to be tied to the rings ashore. One by one, the passenger gathered their baggage and made their way down the gangplank.
“Home again,” said Maya, a broad grin on his face.
“Seems like a long time, doesn’t it?” Hani said.
Kalbaya meekly carried their baskets; he was a strong young man with thick arms and a deep chest—a far cry from some of the poor starvelings in Amen-nefer’s employ. Hani set off for home with a light step, for once relieved of his bags.
Maya split off and left for his own home—the redone goldsmith’s studio his mother had given him and Sat-hut-haru. Hani turned into his own lane with its many empty houses and villas falling into decay during the ten years since the capital had withdrawn and the temples had been closed.
A’a joyfully opened the gate at his knock. “Lord Hani!” he cried. “The mistress of the house will be so happy to see you! She just got your letter this morning.”
That courier didn’t ride very fast, Hani thought, amused. But he was placid. Now that he was home, nothing could ruffle his calm. “All is well, I hope.”
“Yes indeed, my lord. Yes indeed.” A’a took the bags from Kalbaya and led him into the stable yard, where he could see his old colleague, while Hani headed through the garden toward the porch of his home. A gray shadow in the bushes told him Qenyt was on the hunt. He chuckled benevolently.
As Hani mounted the porch, Nub-nefer appeared in the doorway, where the reed mat had been rolled up. Her eyes alight, she threw herself into Hani’s embrace. “Oh, Hani my love! It seems like it’s been forever!”
He surrounded her with his arms and clutched her to him, his pure gold, the most precious possession of all, savoring her warmth and drinking in the faint sweetness of lilies and bergamot that seemed to float about her. When at last he could speak, he said quietly into the top of her head, “It does, my dove. I guess we’ve been spoiled by those years I was able to spend at home.”
“Your father is inside, waiting eagerly to hear all the gossip from abroad.” She beamed up at him, her almond-shaped black eyes full of love. “And Baket-iset too. Oh, you’ll be so happy to see how well she’s doing. I’ve taken offerings down to the temple gates every day and left them in thanksgiving.”
“Are the children and grandchildren well? Have you seen Amen-em-hut?”
“They’re all in good health,” she said, smiling as she drew him into the vestibule. “Tepy has a huge gap where he used to have front teeth. And my brother is well and cheerful.” Her eyes flickered downward. “I told him what Neferet said she’d overheard at the palace.”
“I suppose it can’t do any harm, as long as it doesn’t become public.” Hani chuckled, incapable of any anxious or angry thought. “No doubt that made him happy.”
“Hani, my boy!” cried Mery-ra from the salon. He rose from his chair, beaming, and toddled toward his son. He embraced him in a gruff, affectionate hug and punched him lightly on the arm. “All is well? You haven’t told us much in your letters.”
“I’ll fill you in on everything, Father. There’s some good news.”
“Ooh, tell. Tell.” The men made their way to the two good chairs, and Hani sank gratefully into one. Mery-ra scooted his forward eagerly, while Nub-nefer disappeared into the kitchen.
“Where is Baket-iset?”
“She’s taking a nap. The girls were all here this morning, and I think so much feminine chatter must have tired her a bit.” His broad, cheerful face looked sly, and there was an avid gleam in his little brown eyes. “So, what did you find?”
At that moment, Nub-nefer and a servant girl emerged with two beer pots on their stands and set them down beside the traveler and his father. “Do you want anything to eat, my love? It’s a while until dinner.”
“A little cheese or some dates, please?” He looked up with unashamed pleading, and his wife slipped away once more. “We caught the man who pushed Baket-iset, Father. He was also guilty of the murder of the Babylonian emissary. And he was witnessed by several people in a treasonable action—probably only one of many—in the company of Biryawaza of Upi. There seems to be a suspicious correlation between Amen-nefer’s absences from Kumidi and hapiru attacks on the neighboring towns.”
“I thought you said he hated them.”
“It seems there are two factions. There’s Shum-addi’s ‘official’ group, and there’s the ragtag bunch headed by Monkey Arms. You might be interested to know that our noble commissioner suffered at the hands of a hapiru mother, so his animosity is understandable.”
Mery-ra gave a low whistle and said fiercely, “The bastard. I hope you punished him harshly.”
“He’s to be impaled, if it hasn’t already happened. Lord Ptah-mes is trying him rather summarily right there in Kumidi.”
Mery-ra sat for a moment, digesting this news, then he said, “I guess the Babylonians will be happy now, son. They’ve apparently been making quite a stink. Meryet-amen said her nephew told her the news was all over the palace—their ambassador was demanding huge reparations and even threatening war.”
“I don’t doubt it, although it’s rather shameful that the culprit should be a magistrate of the Two Lands.”
Mery-ra snorted in disgust. “How did such a man become a commissioner—unless the king just wanted to get him away from here?”
Hani fixed his father with a wry look. “In a word, Father: Ay. This blackguard was his henchman for more than twenty years.”
“What a surprise.” Mery-ra rolled his eyes. “I hope you won’t fall afoul of the God’s Father because of this, my son.”
Nub-nefer appeared with a plate of dates and fresh cheese. She pulled up a little table and set it down then caressed her husband’s face with a smooth hennaed hand. “You must be famished, dear one. How long have you been traveling?”
“Years.” Hani laughed. “Or at least, it seems like it.”
His wife settled herself on a stool next to him. “Who mustn’t you fall afoul of?”
“Lord Ay.”
Her eyes widened. “Is he involved in the murder of the ambassador?”
Hani shrugged. “Maybe and maybe not. But it came out through a Babylonian colleague that Shulum-marduk happened to witness our Baket-iset’s ‘accident.’ Amen-nefer must have recognized him and feared discovery. I think that’s more likely than a political motive, frankly. Everyone agreed he was a vengeful man.” He stopped to pop a date into his mouth.
Nub-nefer’s face hardened to ice. “Nothing they do to him can be bad enough.” She clutched Hani’s arm.
“He should be dead and standing before the Judge of Souls by now, my dove.”
⸎
The next morning, Hani awoke late to find his father already in the kitchen, poking about for something to eat.
“Where is Nub-nefer?”
“Gone on her daily errand, son.” Mery-ra waggled his eyebrows significantly. “Oh, a courier from the high commissioner came by this morning. He had a letter for you.”
“And did you use it to light the oven? Where is it, you rascal?” Hani shook his father by the arm in affectionate menace.
“In the salon, lying in your chair.” Mery-ra poured a cup of milk for himself and one for Hani. “This is yesterday’s bread. It’ll be all right if you dunk it.”
Balancing his cup and the bread in one hand, Hani made off into the salon and picked the folded-up papyrus from the seat of his chair. This must be the news that Amen-nefer is dead, he thought, rather more gleefully than he wanted to admit. He set his breakfast on the floor and pulled off the sealing string then unfolded the letter. But as he skimmed it, his jaw sagged.
“Here’s some bad news, Hani,” he read aloud with growing horror. “Our prisoner managed to escape. Apparently, he had a few loyal soldiers left in the garrison. He was seen heading for the hapiru camp near Qidshu. I’m sure they’ll smuggle him north and beyond our borders.” He threw the letter to the ground and let out an anguished howl. “No! I don’t believe it! All that work, and the turd is going to get away?”
Mery-ra growled a curse. “There is no justice.”
Hani beat a fist helplessly on his knee then stared at the floor. “Don’t tell Nub-nefer. She’ll be furious. She thought we finally had vengeance for Baket.”
“And don’t tell the Babylonians, or they’ll be cutting their own vengeance out of our hide.” Mery-ra let a discouraged breath escape through his nose.
“I wonder if Ptah-mes dares keep this quiet. If not, our insubordination will be revealed for what it was, now that war with Sangar won’t be averted after all.”
Mery-ra raised his eyebrows, dubious. “Will he lie outright?”
“To thumb his nose at the vizier? Perhaps.” Hani looked up hopefully. “Or maybe he’s already reported the execution, in which case he’ll only have to say nothing.” But the whole affair was so monumentally unfortunate that he could hardly muster an ember of optimism. He sighed and got dismally to his feet, breakfast forgotten. “I’m going outside.”
“I’d join you, son, but I promised my company to Meryet-amen.”
“Go, Father. I need to think about things.”
Hani drifted idly through the garden, so preoccupied that he scarcely noticed the things that usually gave him such deep pleasure. His steps took him into the stable yard in back, setting the geese cackling in flight from under his feet. There he saw Bin-addi and Kalbaya, heads together, whispering. At the sight of him, they straightened up, looking uneasy, and the bent-nosed Bin-addi nudged his fellow forward a little.
“Good morning, my friends. Is there something you wanted to talk to me about?” Hani asked with a curious smile.
Kalbaya glanced back at Bin-addi nervously and stammered, “There’s something I need to tell you, my lord. You’ve been so kind to us and all, I... I just feel I have to say it. But nobody must know, I beg you.” He clasped his hands nervously at his waist, his knuckles white.
Hani could feel a crackle of eagerness up the back of his neck. Maybe he was finally about to learn something conclusive. Did Kalbaya witness the murder after all?
“Come with me, unless you don’t mind Bin-addi hearing you,” Hani said, drawing him toward the granaries. The man’s arm, for all that it was so powerful, was trembling.
“He knows already, my lord.” They stopped, and he licked his lips. “You’ll have power of life or death over me,” he said faintly.
Hani’s gaze softened. “I’ll protect your secret. Have no fear. Amen-nefer is marked for execution anyhow.”
Kalbaya took a deep breath and said, “I killed the Babylonian emissary.”
Hani’s jaw fell. He certainly hadn’t expected this. He goggled at the man. “But why?”
“I didn’t mean to, my lord.” Tears were starting to wet Kalbaya’s lashes. “I was trying to kill the commissioner.”
Dumbfounded, Hani stared, half expecting the former slave to laugh and say it was a joke. But he looked terrified and deadly serious. Behind him, Bin-addi had much the same expression. “Tell me about it, my friend.”
Kalbaya covered his face with his hands, as if to wipe away his fear, then he straightened up and said bravely, “We all hated him—more than hated him. He made our lives more horrible than the Lake of Fire. We wanted to kill him or else more of us would die. So when the king of Upi offered us gold to murder him, we were happy enough to accept the offer.”
“Wait. Biryawaza of Upi paid you to assassinate Amen-nefer?” Hani thought he must have heard wrong.
But from behind his friend’s back, Bin-addi affirmed, “That’s right, my lord.”
I thought they were allies, Hani thought in confusion.
Kalbaya continued, “Since I was the commissioner’s valet, we all decided that I could most easily do the job. I knew about a secret passage that opened into the commissioner’s bedchamber that couldn’t be locked. It was to serve him at night, usually to bring him girls.”
He stopped to swallow and cast another almost pleading look at Bin-addi. “One night we decided to do it. I would... I would use the stool right there in the room. I knew just where the bed was and where in the bed he slept. I waited until he was likely to be asleep, and then I made my way, without a light, through the passage. I knew it all well. There was a sliver of starlight through the shutters, and I could see the stool and the body on the bed. I picked up the stool quietly by one leg and crept over to the bedside, and I smashed it down on him.”
Kalbaya ran a hand over his face, which had grown terribly pale. The hand was unsteady. “And o
nce I had hit him, I couldn’t stop, my lord. It was as if some demonic force had hold of me. I grew more and more enraged, thinking of all the things he’d done to us and our wives and our children. Things I wouldn’t even say aloud. And I hit and hit until the stool started to break apart, and then I hit some more. He never awakened. I sent him straight into the underworld without the chance to so much as say a prayer. By then, I was exhausted, and the madness was cooling off. I took the stool and left it in the passage until I had the energy to hide it somewhere. I went down to the kitchen, where everyone who wasn’t on duty had gathered, waiting to hear. The laundrymen took my clothes and hid them in with the butcher’s aprons and cleaning rags, and I washed myself off. All the ferocity had gone out of me. I was shaking like a frightened baby. Everyone swore they would never tell what had happened. Except...”
“Except?” Hani prompted gently, thinking he knew where this was going.
“Except nobody had told me that Lord Amen-nefer had moved out of his room that afternoon and that one of the Babylonians was sleeping there.” He stared at Hani with tear-filled, pleading eyes. “I killed an innocent man, my lord.” Kalbaya fell to the ground and began to clutch at Hani’s feet, weeping. “Save me, I beg of you.”
In a daze, Hani stooped and lifted the ex-slave to his feet. His thoughts were in a turmoil. What am I supposed to do with this terrible information? He could understand only too well the white-hot madness that slavered for revenge, for justice—as if all the violence in the world couldn’t make good the wounds the past had inflicted. Yet once it became known that Amen-nefer had escaped, the Babylonians would think that the killer of their emissary had gone unpunished. It might well mean war. Should I point out the real culprit?
He said, just above a whisper, “I think you need to disappear, Kalbaya. You speak good Egyptian. You’re a skilled body servant. I’ll give you something to live on for now, and you’ll find a job easily. Be gone by nightfall, my friend. Even if someone should find out what you did, no one will be able to find you.”