Slayer of Gods

by Lynda S. Robinson

  “Sebek, remain here,” Meren said. He turned to Anath, who had been quiet throughout the questioning. “I must speak with this man alone.”

  “Really, Meren. Why did you bring me to Egypt if you won’t allow me to help you?”

  “You’ve been of great assistance; and will be again. But I must do this without your help.”

  Anath left, giving Sebek a hard look as she went. Abu stepped out of the room and shut the door. He would remain with two charioteers just outside. Meren rose and went to Sebek, who bowed and lowered his gaze to the floor.

  “Hear me, Sebek.” Meren came close and lowered his voice. “There are guards at the door, on the roof, and below the windows outside. No one can hear. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, lord.”

  “Then I ask again. Do you know who caused the queen’s death?”

  “No, lord.”

  Meren stared at the old man’s set features. Then he lifted his wrist and pushed back the heavy bracelet to reveal the sun disk Akhenaten had ordered branded into his flesh.

  “Look at this. You know what the heretic did to me, and you know the queen trusted me. You and I have shared danger together when the great royal wife and her father met with the priests of Amun.” He unfastened his beaded belt and opened his overrobe to reveal the scar in his side. “The evil one seeks my death, because I won’t stop until I find him.” Meren let the ends of the robe fall loose. “You may speak freely, without fear that your words will be used against you. I swear by the ka of our beloved queen, I will never betray you.”

  Sebek’s body seemed to lose its rigidity. He let out a long breath and sagged.

  “It’s true, lord, we risked our lives to serve her, you and I, but it has been a long time, and I didn’t know if you’d changed. Forgive me.”

  “I would have done the same in your place,” Meren said. “Now tell me everything.”

  “She fell ill too suddenly for my taste,” Sebek said. “I didn’t believe the physicians, but who was I to question them? So I watched when her food and drink were brought. I saw nothing.”

  “The steward gave the cook the poison to mix in the kitchen,” Meren said. “Who could have caused Wah to do such a thing? Think, Sebek. Who were Wah’s confidants?”

  “I can think of several. Lord Pendua, Prince Usermontu, Thanuro, one or two of her highborn ladies, perhaps. But the ladies who befriended the steward have died.”

  “What of the men?”

  Sebek scratched his head. “Pendua and Thanuro wanted power and riches. So did Usermontu. They all did, and Wah sought their company to further his own career. But Usermontu was different, because he was also mean. He would have killed out of hate because the queen forced him to stop maltreating his wife.

  “I remember seeing him talking in corners with the steward,” Sebek said. “If anyone came close, they would stop speaking until they were alone again. Usermontu wasn’t respected by any of us in the army. No one respects a man who beats his wife. Even worse, he hadn’t the courage to challenge a man. We all knew he ran from fights with his equals. When she learned Usermontu also kicked his children, the queen ordered them taken away and given to their mother. She couldn’t hide her contempt. I remember her saying he treated the royal horses better because he knew she and pharaoh would have him executed if he hurt them.”

  “And he was around when the queen was sick,” Meren said.

  Yes, lord. If she’d lived, I believe her majesty would have convinced pharaoh to banish him.”

  “What of Pendua and Thanuro?”

  “Pendua was a place-seeker who used his position to enrich himself. When he was in charge of the queen’s traders he exacted tolls from them in exchange for the best assignments. He aspired to high office and refused to see that he lacked an intelligent heart that would gain him royal favor. Servility and bribery were his tools. In truth, lord, I cannot imagine Lord Pendua as a master of great plots. He’s a petty little man who sees no further than his fingers can grasp. Now that I think of it, he, Wah and Usermontu were like a pack of hyenas in the household. If one of them scented trouble, he would howl and bring the rest.”

  Sebek shook his head. “Now, Thanuro, he was different.”

  “Why?”

  “The queen could never decipher him. She knew he spied on her for the king, reported actions of hers that might be interpreted as a betrayal of the Aten. There were times when she thought he suspected she was meeting with the priests of Amun, yet he never went to pharaoh with his suspicions. Perhaps she was wrong.”

  “But you don’t think so.”

  Sebek rubbed his chin. “I could never understand Thanuro either. Pharaoh didn’t know it, but he spent more time accounting for tithes and levies than in worship of the Aten. He would recite the prayers and hymns to the sun disk, but his zeal vanished when he thought himself unobserved. And he liked the company of odd sorts, for an Aten priest.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He favored the company of foreigners and some of the more disreputable nobles. But most of the time he was watching the queen. Still, her majesty knew about him and prevented him from doing much harm.”

  Meren wrapped his overrobe around his waist and re-fastened his belt. “I’m also interested in a merchant called Dilalu, who sold horses to the queen.”

  “Yes, he was at the palace frequently. Usermontu dealt with him, took bribes from him most likely. He was making a fortune until the queen discovered his other activities. She was going to speak to pharaoh about him. He might have ended up in a crocodile pit if she hadn’t died.”

  “Exactly,” Meren said. “And what of an Asiatic called Zulaya?”

  “Zulaya. In truth, lord, I’ve never heard of a man by that name.”

  “During her last days, did you see anything strange, see anyone interfere with the queen’s food or drink?”

  “No, lord. If I had, I would have reported it immediately. I was vigilant, but finally I convinced myself that I was so grieved at her illness that I wanted to blame someone I could punish instead of an invisible disease demon.”

  “But you’re certain that Usermontu and Pendua were close confidants of Wah, and that they as well as Dilalu had reason to fear the queen and do her harm.”

  “Yes, lord. Of all those close to the queen during her illness, they are the most likely to have committed this great evil.”

  “You can think of no others who might have had the power and the opportunity to cause her death?”

  “No, lord. As I said, I finally had to accept that the plague took her. Still, I was desolate that so kind and great a lady had been struck down. All I had were vague suspicions. Indeed, I began to think I must have imagined a plot against her majesty, perhaps because I was privy to the dangerous tasks she was performing. In any case, to remain in royal service would have been to remain among those who had wished her ill. That I couldn’t bear, so I retired.”

  “But why did you not remain on the land granted to you?”

  “Because, lord, I am a careful man. I noticed that many who had served the queen met with fatal accidents or died during the months after her death. If some evil was at work, I wanted to escape it.”

  Meren placed his hand on the man’s shoulder. “You are a wise man, Sebek, and you’ve done well.”

  “I am grateful, lord.”

  “Should you remember anything else, you must tell me. If I’m gone, tell Prince Taharqa, and he will send to me. Meanwhile, I think it best that you remain here.”

  “But my animals, lord, I must—”

  “The prince will make arrangements for your household. I don’t think you’re in danger anymore, but to be certain you should stay here until the evil one can no longer do harm.”

  “But that could be a long time, lord.”

  “I don’t think so,” Meren said. Sebek gave him an inquiring look, but he didn’t explain himself.

  Indeed, Meren didn’t know why he felt time was short. He was getting that burning sensat
ion in his chest. He’d missed something or failed to recognize the meaning of something. The knowledge, whatever it was, lurked just beyond cognition, a faint shadow inside his ka, flitting across the terrain of his heart without leaving footprints.

  He dismissed Sebek and settled into his chair once more. He was frustrated that he couldn’t make himself understand or remember whatever it was that eluded him. He shifted in his chair as the burning in his chest grew, and jumped when Anath shoved the door open and sailed into the room.

  “Well?”

  “Nothing, curse it. Oh, he knew more about the people we already suspect, but nothing new.”

  “Unfortunate,” she said as she dropped onto a cushion by his leg. She draped an arm over his thigh.

  “He seemed to suspect Prince Usermontu more than anyone else. Called him mean.”

  “Usermontu has a reputation for mean-spiritedness and viciousness.”

  “It hasn’t come to my attention lately.”

  Anath nodded. “I’m sure he’s careful not to attract your notice.”

  “He has now,” Meren said. “They all have, and it’s time to let them know.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We’re going home, and when we get there, I’m going to question each of them. The time for discretion has passed. I don’t think I’ll learn anything else of import until we force them to talk. From what Sebek has told me I can start with Pendua and Usermontu. By now Kysen has already questioned Dilalu.”

  “Good.”

  Meren shook his head. “Not good. Questioning two noblemen, even at the command of pharaoh, is risky. Prince Usermontu and Lord Pendua might not hold government office, but they’re related to some of the most powerful families in Egypt. Usermontu’s lineage is connected to the royal treasurer Maya’s, and Lord Pendua is cousin to the high priest of Ptah. Lesser actions have been the source of great evil in the past. If Pendua’s family is shamed, his whole lineage will blame me. They might even blame pharaoh. And should they suffer adversely, lose estates and power, they will seek out other malcontents and perhaps foster rebellion. Small feuds, my sweet, contain the seeds of civil war.”

  “But not if you’re careful,” Anath said with a pat to his thigh. “I know you. You’ll manage it well.”

  “But can I get to the truth without destroying the harmony and balance of Egypt?”

  “You’ve accomplished many difficult tasks for pharaoh. You can do this. It will be perilous, but you’ve had much experience that will serve you well.” She smiled at him.

  Meren smiled back. It was a relief to be able to speak to a woman about his difficulties, but his smile faded. “I’m going to talk to Zulaya too.”

  “Why? He wasn’t even at Horizon of the Aten.”

  “No one saw him,” Meren said, “but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t there.”

  “You know that’s unlikely. Besides, it will waste time. You told me how important it is to finish this business for pharaoh’s sake. It’s more likely that the evil one we seek is an Egyptian, not some unimportant foreign merchant.”

  “Ah, but I have another reason for wanting to confront him. I met him once, although he doesn’t know it. I was in disguise at the time. Zulaya’s not an ordinary merchant. He latched on to me at once despite my changed appearance, and I want to know why. I want to know why he’s so elusive, and why he seems to live nowhere in spite of his having great riches. Even if he had nothing to do with Nefertiti’s death, he’s hiding something.”

  “Have someone else investigate him, then. You needn’t do it yourself when your attention should be fixed on more important questions. I’ll do it if you insist on it being done.”

  “No,” Meren said gently. “I thank you, but I will attend to it myself.”

  “But—”

  “I said no. Zulaya wants too badly to remain unobserved.”

  Sighing, Anath rose and leaned down to almost touch her lips to his ear and whispered, “There are many reasons a man might avoid the notice of the Eyes of Pharaoh, my love.”

  Meren turned his head and met Anath’s amused eyes. Her breath was sweet as the north wind. It skimmed over his face and threatened to make him forget what he was going to say—almost.

  “I agree, dear Anath. A man may have many reasons to avoid my notice, but none would be so compelling as having murdered a queen.”

  Chapter 11

  The trip back to Memphis took over two weeks in spite of the swiftness of Wings of Horus. Meren stopped at Horizon of the Aten only long enough to pick up his men and found that the scribes had collected more boxes of documents but hadn’t examined all of them. Then he sailed north again, adding the strength of his oarsmen to the powerful rush of the Nile’s current.

  The return voyage hadn’t been as restful for either Meren or Anath. Meren’s temper grew short with the realization that he hadn’t made a great deal of progress. Nefertiti’s murderer was still roaming free. Anath had tried to distract him by playing her lute and singing to him, by making him play long games of senet, and by telling him stories of the people she’d met in the northern empire and Babylon. Yet he still remained distracted and anxious, putting aside his worries only at night. Then he needed the strength of Montu, god of war, to keep up with Anath and respond to her creative inclinations. She teased him that he’d become entirely too proper and scrupulous.

  “You’re fortunate, Meren my love, that I came home when I did. Another year and you’d have ended up as rigid as the red granite of Syene.”

  “And you would have languished abroad for lack of an Egyptian consort worthy of you,” Meren had replied, no longer disturbed by Anath’s references to his reserved manner.

  When the ship docked at the capital Meren followed Anath down the gangplank. Anath was wearing a red gown and a long gold belt that wrapped around her hips and hung down to her feet. A filigree headband of rosettes kept her wild hair out of her face. As they walked down the plank she glanced up at Meren, a slight smile on her lips.

  “You needn’t escort me home, you know. I have servants and guards enough to protect a royal princess.”

  “But you don’t seem to know what is due to you as a lady of rank.” Meren helped her step into his chariot. “You may know how to wring secrets out of Asiatic ministers, but you have little conception of decorum and protocol.”

  Anath poked him with her forefinger. “Are you saying I’m uncivilized?”

  “I prefer to say unschooled in proper Egyptian etiquette.”

  “Meren, you’re a foul toad. I know you, and I know what you’re saying. You think I’m only half civilized and contaminated by foreign influence.”

  He grinned down at her. “A few months at home should cure you.”

  They set off with one charioteer preceding them as an escort. Having succeeded in provoking sparks of irritation in Anath, he argued good-naturedly with her most of the way to her house. It was on the outskirts of the foreign district in an area favored by traders from Cyprus and Byblos. Anath seemed weary, and Meren was anxious to go home and find out how Kysen’s investigation was proceeding, so he took his leave after seeing her safely through the gate.

  By the time he reached Golden House the sun had set. The compound sparkled with torchlight, and he heard lively music, the beat of drums and laughter. Kysen and Bener were entertaining. Meren stepped down from his chariot and handed the reins to a groom. People were walking around the twin reflection pools in front of the house and mingling on the loggia. He saw Prince Djoser and several of the daughters of the old king, Amunhotep the Magnificent, as well as Maya, the royal treasurer. Speaking briefly with each, he tried to maintain a pleasant demeanor in spite of his irritation. Kysen shouldn’t be entertaining in his absence. The last thing Meren wished for after his long journey was a house party at which he would have to be charming.

  He went inside and worked his way around the crowded reception hall. It was filled with luxuriously dressed aristocrats. Some lounged on couches and chairs, others lay
on cushions on the floor while servants poured an endless stream of imported wine and domestic beer. The air was filled with the scent of spices and roasted meat. He couldn’t see either Kysen or Bener. Kysen was most likely moving around the house making sure his guests were well fed and happy.

  And Bener was probably in the kitchens directing food preparation; she wasn’t as sociable as her sisters, and Meren was beginning to worry about her future. She seemed to have little inclination to marry, which wasn’t natural. Women married and had children. They were the foundation of life, and without children who would provide for her in old age? Who would furnish food and drink for her spirit once she was dead? After he solved this murder, he resolved he would speak to her about her future.

  Meren thought he glimpsed Kysen in one corner of the room. He threaded his way through the guests but his progress stopped at the wide, muscled back of a tall nobleman who reeked of frankincense and wine. He heard a high, soft voice. Not a woman’s voice, merely a high man’s voice. There was only one young man in Memphis with the build of a wrestler and the voice of a temple chantress, and that would be Lord Rudu, Usermontu’s son. He was flirting with a painted and bejeweled young woman who had her head half averted. She was giggling and simpering in a most obnoxious manner. She plied a hand fan and even tapped Rudu on the forearm with it. Meren spoke as she began to purr and coo at the object of her blandishments.

  “Lord Rudu,” Meren said, hoping to get by with a nod.

  Rudu turned. “Lord Meren, by the blessings of Amun, you’re home.”

  “Father!”

  The painted and bejeweled simperer stuck her head around Rudu’s massive shoulder. Meren stared at Bener.

  “Daughter?” he said faintly.

  “You’ve returned,” she said, swallowing hard and edging around Rudu to touch Meren’s cheek with hers in greeting.

  “Yes, I’ve returned,” Meren said. “At a most favorable moment, it seems.”

  “Indeed, Lord Meren.” Now Rudu was simpering. He tittered at Meren and inclined his head. “A most favorable moment, would you not agree, Bener my little bean goose?”