“Any one of five servants could have drawn and conveyed it or had access to it in the room. One is missing, two are dead, one is not currently able to talk and the other denies anything, despite the most ‘rigorous’ questioning.”
“The secret-police seem to be the biggest stumbling block in this whole investigation. We’re losing witnesses faster than we can find them! But the main thing is that the poison in the palm-wine was only marginally deadly. Not a sure thing.” Nikolas paused before continuing, “Kahun, after last night I must ask what are your sleeping arrangements, and those of Lorentis? We’re all at risk.”
Kahun replied “Lorentis sleeps in an antechamber off Princess Abana’s own rooms in the Royal Chambers. She’s safe enough. I sleep in a room in the army barracks. Now, I’ll make sure it is a different room each night!”
“Good, if we are to progress, all of us are important to finding the answer; after last night, clearly we all need to be careful of our own security!”
T T T T
Nikolas entered the Wt Preparation Room in the msxnt necropolis on the West Bank. Ra-em hotep lay naked on a granite slab in the centre of the room, surrounded by five chanting priests of Anubis, two of whom were wearing the dog-headed masks of their sect. The smell of incense hung heavy in the air, its smoke drifting across the room.
The incense almost, but not quite, covered the sharp scent of preservatives and other liquids in open jars. Nikolas sneezed and wiped his nose on his right forearm. The heat and thick atmosphere of the room, as well as lack of sleep, was already giving him a headache.
As Kahun had said Ra-em hotep had been a bull of a man, large and heavily-set with his body showing the signs of good living. The materials needed to start mummification, most noticeably the bath of natron, were at the side of the room.
“Let’s get this raree show underway. Do the stomach first!”
instructed Nikolas, drawing antagonistic stares from the priests.
Nikolas’ previous evening and night had been such that he had little sympathy for the sensibilities of these time-servers, and his recently acquired knowledge of the deceased such that he had little reverence for the corpse.
The copper blade bit into the flesh of the left side of the stomach, organs and intestines bulging out obscenely. The stench of offal immediately overcame the sweetness of the canopic jar. Two quick slashes and the contents lay on the stone.
With distaste Nikolas bent to sniff the contents and asked the priest, “Palm-date wine?”
The priest shrugged his shoulders unhelpfully. He was outraged at the presence of Nikolas during this holy event and had no intention of giving any assistance to the usurper. Nikolas carefully examined the body, confirming some of the observations of Pa-ra-em-hat. Others, such as skin colour, were now lost due to the passage of time.
The procedure continued. The stomach was not ulcerated; the lungs perhaps a brighter pink than usual, indicated asphyxia; the kidneys were normal.
Nikolas stared the priest straight in the eyes, shrugged and said, “Thank you for your great assistance. I’ll report it to Divine Ramesses personally,” he added, taking a cheap-shot. Anubis looked further outraged as Nikolas stalked out.
T T T T
Once back at the warehouse, Nikolas said to Amos, “I need to see Wahanhk the bag-maker about the bags for the next order for shipment of grain to Attica. Get me Kemuny and Nimlot as guards and I’ll leave shortly.” Moments later Nikolas was outside, grasping his walking-stick and limping along the road towards the merchant quarter, Kemuny in the lead and Nimlot following.
It was early afternoon and the streets thronged with traffic.
Moving with some difficulty in the crush of humanity, they passed through the Grand Market, with its stalls and hucksters shouting their wares. Beggars stood or lay at most street corners, showing deformed limbs and sores; young children, most naked as was usual, ran about shouting and calling to each other. Other children, mainly dressed in rags, were working at the stalls or workshops of family members; some were as young as four or five and looked about with big brown eyes as they performed minor menial tasks. The Eternal Nile glistened nearby, off to the right.
When they reached Wahanhk’s shop, Nikolas walked straight in through the open doorway without knocking. He’d had a hard day and had little sympathy for sensibilities of others, particularly when he was the customer
Inside was complete chaos; tables and chairs were scattered across the room; grain and oil spilled from broken sacks and amphorae stacked along the walls. Wahanhk was usually the most fastidious of men. He lay huddled abjectly in one corner. Four huge ‘bashers’ stood over him, all holding large pieces of wood above their heads. A young woman, little more than a child, lay against the far wall; her dress was torn across the bosom and her long black hair dishevelled, with a large bruise rising on her right cheek. Her dark-brown eyes glinted with fire.
After the happenings of the previous night Nikolas and his men had progressed from going out with hidden knives to having short-swords out of sight under carefully draped pieces of linen. When drawn the swords more than made up for their lack of numbers.
More, both Nikolas and his men were trained and prepared to take out their frustrations on whoever was nearby and this showed in their eyes.
“Hold hard!” said Nikolas in an even tone, waving a sword a few inches away from the eyes of the nearest thug. Nikolas and his guards were trained soldiers and handled their weapons with almost negligent ease and immense confidence. “Move and you’ll be talking through a second mouth – in your throat! Wahanhk, what seems to be the problem?”
There was a long pause before one of the four thugs said, “Wahanhk has a debt which we are collecting.”
Nikolas replied, “This seems a fairly aggressive manner of negotiation, using clubs to do your talking. Do you want to talk with us?” Nikolas waved the tip of his sword again, causing the thug’s eyes to cross as he stared involuntarily at its movement just inches from his nose.
The thug shook his head very carefully.
“What is the debt claimed?” asked Nikolas.
“200 copper deben for gambling debts.”
“Wahanhk, do you dispute the amount?” asked Nikolas.
Wahanhk shook his head.
Nikolas also shook his head, in his case in disbelief; 200 copper deben was ten times as much as Wahanhk could earn in a month – enough to buy two cows.
“But we’ve found suitable goods to offset the debt,” said the thug, looking at the girl.
Nikolas said, “You four, put the clubs on the ground; then sit against that wall so no accidents can happen. Wahanhk and the girl can sit in those chairs.” As the girl sat, she rearranged her torn dress to cover her exposed bosom. Partly out of consideration for the girl, and partly to get Kemuny to stop ogling her and concentrate on the men, Nikolas suggested to her that she change her dress. She rose lithely from her chair, crossed to a small wicker basket nearby and drew out another similar linen dress of mid-calf length, now grey in colour from repeated washing. As she faced the wall and pulled the ruined dress off over her head she revealed her nakedness and Nikolas saw that the back and thighs of her slender body were a mass of bruises, some quite recent and purple, others faded to a sickly yellow colour. Clearly she had received vicious and regular beatings. She didn’t return to the chair she had vacated but turned and sat cross-legged on the floor near the basket, well away from her father.
Nikolas gave Wahanhk a disgusted look, his eyes narrowed and lips pursed, before he again looked at the girl. She was about fourteen years old and only recently come into her womanhood, but just of marriageable age. She was of medium height, a little over five feet, slender but full-bodied and quite attractive despite her current dishevelled appearance and recent treatment.
Nikolas paused. Attractive, yes. Worth two cows? Probably not, but… “What is your name, child?” he asked gently.
The girl raised her large brown eyes to meet his and replied
, “Kiya, my Lord.”
Nikolas said to the thugs, “I have come to discuss with Wahanhk my debt to him, which happens to also be 200 deben,” he lied. “I’ll send my man to collect the debt and then you can be paid. Nimlot, go to Djedi, tell him to go to the counting room and remove 200 copper deben from the strong box. Come here with that amount and with four armed guards. Be as quick as you can. We’ll be waiting.”
Nikolas and Kemuny stood with swords drawn, one on each side of the doorway.
They had to wait for quite a long time until Amos, Djedi and four guards rushed through the door. “You have the payment Djedi?” asked Nikolas. Djedi nodded, hefting a small sack of copper rings.
“You acknowledge the debt to these men, Wahanhk?” continued Nikolas.
Wahanhk nodded and said, “Yes, Master, I do!”
“Very well, here is the payment. Count it now and then be gone,” said Nikolas to the thugs, emptying the bag on the table and taking two steps back before gesturing for them to stand and approach.
Now with eight of his own men in the room Nikolas was much more relaxed. The thugs were not prepared to enter a close count and quickly tallied the copper rings, scrawled a signature on a receipt and departed.
“Wahanhk, this was not good! How could this happen?” asked Nikolas.
“I’m sorry, Master, but the gambling fever sometimes takes me and I do not count the results at the time,” he said. “Kiya will go with you today and to expunge the debt. She will be your slave.”
“No, Wahanhk! I don’t want a slave. Let this be a business debt that you can pay over time.”
“No, Master! No! I am a weak man. If not today then later, maybe next week, others will be back seeking payment. These men today meant to sell Kiya’s services to a brothel in the docklands. She’s better off with you than she can expect with me. She is intelligent and hardworking and you need an assistant in your workshop.
Teach her your trade. Have the scribes enter the record of her being sold to you.”
Nikolas paused, and thought to himself ‘And that means you don’t have to pay me back! You also obviously don’t think she is worth two cows!’ He turned to Kiya and asked, “What do you want from this?”
“I wish to go with you, my Lord,” she replied, looking demurely down.
Nikolas said to Wahanhk, “Well she can come with me. But I have no slaves and nobody in my service in debt to me. She can come with a clean sheet and we’ll see what we can do.” He turned to Kiya and said, “Child, collect your things and we will leave.”
Kiya gave a small shake of the head and replied, “There’s nothing that I want from this place. I’m ready to leave when you are.”
Nikolas said to Wahanhk, “I originally came to order 500 sacks for grain. I’m prepared to pay the same as last time, delivery in two weeks.”
Wahanhk nodded his agreement.
T T T T
As they stepped out of the gloom of Wahanhk’s house and into the bright sunlit street Nikolas saw that it was now late afternoon and he’d have to hurry to get home, change his clothing and present himself at the palace at sunset as he’d been instructed. They hurried along with Nikolas limping gamely on his stick, his left leg trailing slightly. The girl walked on his left. Djedi and the guards forged ahead, forcing a path through the thickening crowd; the cooler temperature of the late afternoon bringing more people onto the streets. They were bumped and pushed by the throng as they moved up the road.
Nikolas missed a step, his sandaled left foot slipping on something wet and noisome lying on the street, and he nearly fell. Kiya moved to grasp his left arm to support him. As he twisted to his left he felt a sharp stinging pain across his right upper rib-cage. He jerked his head to the right and saw the bearded face of a stranger an arm’s length away. Time seemed to slow for Nikolas and incongruously he noticed the assailant had several missing teeth and wore a sweat-stained headband. The stranger leaned forward, bringing his bloodied knife up again. Nikolas swung his left arm to strike at his assailant’s head and yelled to the guards as he thrust out his right arm, knocking the oncoming knife up and to one side. Amos turned and drew his sword in one motion, his eyes flicking to take in the scene. The assailant turned abruptly, forced his way into the crowd and disappeared in a moment.
Nikolas clasped his hand to the wound. “Nearly home!” he gasped. Amos and Nimlot grabbed Nikolas and half-carried him the remaining short distance to the warehouse and into the workroom; Kiya hovered behind. Once safely back in the workroom Nikolas sat on a stool, stripped off his robe and examined the long deep gash on his chest, which stretched a good hand-span in length from the centre of the chest to below his right nipple. If not for that opportune slip on the pavement the knife would have struck him full in the heart.
“Well Kiya, your first piece of work! Are you a good seamstress?
I need you to stitch me up, and I hope you can sew neatly! First wash the wound with oil of fir from that jar there and then apply that unguent. It has garlic juice, fir-resin and myrtle in a honey and moringa-oil base. Hold the edges together, without an overlap, and use the needle and cat-gut thread from that drawer in the bench.”
Kiya did so, kneeling before him as he sat on the stool. Nikolas closed his eyes at the sharp stinging pain as the antiseptic was rubbed deep into the wound. Then Kiya, with the tip of her tongue protruding slightly between her teeth as she concentrated, carefully stitched the edges of the wound together. Nikolas’ jaw tightened in pain with each of the nineteen small stitches. “Very good, now apply the unguent from that jar on the left of the second shelf. There are clean bandages in that box over there.”
When she had completed her work Kiya asked, “Aren’t you going cast any magic spells or make incantations to ward off infection and help the healing?” After Nikolas snorted and shook his head she said, “Well, you are the swnw, so you know best. I presume that doctors don’t need to incant aloud for themselves and can commune with Isis, Serqet and Sekhmet without the need to speak, and so increase the effectiveness of the magic?”
Nikolas was tired and in pain, not having taken any medication that may dull his mental acuity when he later attended at the palace.
He couldn’t be bothered to give a proper reply and answer the questions that would inevitably follow. Instead he took the easy course of just saying, “I say a prayer in my heart to all the gods of healing when I do my work. I don’t believe that it’s necessary for me to pray and chant aloud. I make my best effort and let the gods do their best as they see fit.”
With half his chest wrapped in bandages, Nikolas felt like half a mummy, and about as lively. “Djedi, call a palanquin to take me to the palace. Amos – eight guards! Four ahead, one each side and two behind. Two attempts in one day is enough! You’ll need to call in the off-duty guards, otherwise this will leave only two here at the warehouse. We need to hire some more, but only those we’ve used before or who our men know. A one-month engagement, with the usual pay of twelve deben a month. Djedi, see to it at once.” He paused and added a further instruction, “Djedi, also get me some Egyptian robes when you can, so I don’t stand out so much in the crowd when I go out.”
The off-duty guards and two new recruits arrived just before the palanquin. In the meantime Nikolas with Kiya’s assistance quickly washed using a bowl of water and a cloth, and after towelling himself off slipped on his best Greek tunic and some heavy jewellery.
After all, you don’t visit a god every day.
T T T T
This time the palanquin went to the main gate of the palace. Darkness had fallen and he was late. As was the intention of the builders of all palaces Nikolas and all those who entered were awed by the magnificence of the public reception areas. On approaching the tall whitewashed mud-brick outer walls, a gate with massive polished bronze-covered doors gave access to a large stone-flagged open formal courtyard a hundred paces square, the inside walls painted with vivid frescoes. Djedi announced Nikolas to the Captain of the Guard at
the gate, and after stepping down from the palanquin Nikolas was ushered inside, while his guards were instructed to remain in the courtyard. After passing through another imposing gate on the far side of the courtyard Nikolas and Djedi entered the palace proper, and were conducted down several corridors lit by oil lamps set in sconces on the decorated walls before being shown into a room off the main Audience Chamber.
The room was empty. It wasn’t large but was beautifully decorated and well lit. There was only one chair, a regal affair with gold scroll-work. With a small smile Nikolas limped over to the chair and sat down before looking around. The Egyptians’ love of nature was reflected in the beautifully painted frescoes on the walls, with a river theme in greens and blues; several massive bunches of fresh flowers whose perfume filled the air stood in vases behind the chair. After carefully taking in the decorations Nikolas inspected his nails, brushed dust off his robe and did all the myriad of others things one does when sitting in a waiting room for an appointment.
Then he settled back and dozed off. It had been a long day.
Eventually after a long wait the door crashed open abruptly and a small party entered, headed by two guards armed with spears and followed by Zineb and Kahun. Behind them walked an elderly man, slightly above middle-height, thin and slightly stooped by age, with a strong distinctive face with a large hooked nose and prominent jaw. He was simply dressed but wore the royal nemes head-dress of starched linen in blue and white, with close-cropped red hair seen at the temples under the head-dress and a formal pleated SnDwt kilt.
A step behind him trailed another somewhat younger but more lavishly dressed man, also wearing the nemes and kilt. Lorentis entered behind almost unnoticed except by Nikolas.
Nikolas quickly rose to his feet and stepped away from the chair.
Djedi leaned forward and whispered his ear, “Pharaoh, Prince Merneptah and Chief-Chamberlain Lord Zineb.”
Murder in the Palace: A Nikolas of Kydonia Mystery Page 5