The Gardener and the Assassin

by Mark Gajewski

  I pushed past the herald at the entrance and strode up the center of the hall, past the waiting petitioners, directly to the foot of the dais. The current petitioner stopped in mid–sentence. I elbowed him aside, roughly.

  A guard moved towards me, his lance lowered.

  Pharaoh raised a hand, stopped him. “What brings you to my audience hall, Kairy? Is there trouble with the great criminal? Has there been another kidnapping attempt?”

  “No, Majesty,” I assured him without bowing. “But that’s the trouble, isn’t it? I saved you from being assassinated the night of the coup. I defeated your enemies who wanted to kidnap the great criminal a few days ago. But as a reward you’ve assigned me to continue guarding a pregnant woman while men of far lesser ability rise high in this land.”

  “Must I remind you that the great criminal was vulnerable to being kidnapped because you insisted on moving her to an exposed estate?” Neferronpet snapped. “Some would question your judgment, Kairy.”

  A nice touch by the vizier, making it seem I’d been the decision–maker instead of him.

  “What is it you want, Kairy?” Pharaoh asked.

  “Command of your army.”

  I heard breaths drawn in sharply all around me, at the audaciousness of my request.

  “I’m going to command the army for Father,” Amenherkoshef piped up.

  “You’re a twenty year–old boy,” I said dismissively. “I trained you. You’re inexperienced. Not ready for command. May the gods help us if wretches ever invade our valley.”

  “Watch yourself!” Vizier Neferronpet exclaimed, stepping from the dais and towards me.

  Pharaoh rose, irate. “You want command, Kairy?”

  “I deserve it!”

  “Then command you shall have,” Pharaoh said angrily, pointing his flail at me. “Return to the criminal. Keep her safe. Once she’s dead you shall command my stables in Djeme.”

  “That’s outrageous!”

  “Outrageous? It’s generous,” Pharaoh said sharply. “If any other man in this valley had talked to me like you just did he’d already be dead. As you pointed out, you did save my life. Because you did you just saved yours. Now – depart, Kairy! Return to your prisoner.” He wagged his flail at me. “Do not let anything happen to her or her son – under penalty of your own death!”

  I stared at him for a moment. “As you command, Majesty,” I spat. I bent stiffly, spun on my heel and strode from the hall, pushing aside everyone in my way.

  As the doors closed behind me I heard the babble of excited voices.

  So far, so good.

  Late that afternoon I commandeered a small fishing punt and crossed the river to Waset. I’d determined the best stage for my act – an exclusive brothel in a seedy section of town patronized by the type of high–ranking men who’d try to overthrow a ruler – I’d tracked two of the men Bunakhtef had named in his confession to the establishment a few days earlier and had dragged them from there to their deaths. Sunset found me entering.

  The common room was already crowded and boisterous, filled with loud conversation and laughter, pierced by an occasional female squeal. Women – all free, not slaves – in various states of undress, all painted and bejeweled, were entertaining several dozen men seated at small tables or on mats or cushions on the floor. Some women occupied laps, some were draped over men, some were seated across from or beside them. Everyone was drinking. I picked out several officials – Hori, the deputy Medjay in charge of the Great Place; Montuemtowy and Khametir, treasury overseers; Meribast, a distant relation of the First God’s Servant. Two women were in a corner, wearing only bead girdles, one playing a lute, the other a double pipe. Each had an image of Bes tattooed on her bare thigh.

  I settled in a corner where I could see everyone who entered. I was directly opposite the stairs that led to an upper story full of small rooms where women took their men, as I knew from my search for the traitors.

  A young serving girl dressed in a white skirt brought me a cup of wine and I immediately drank it down and told her to refill it. A woman joined the musicians and began to sing, though her song was nearly drowned out by the noise. A few men sitting nearby watched her attentively; most men in the room ignored her.

  “My lover, it is pleasant to go to the pond

  And bathe while you watch me.

  You see my beauty through my tunic of finest white linen

  When it becomes wet and clinging.

  I go down with you into the water

  And come out again to you

  With a red fish which lies beautiful in my fingers.

  Come and look at me.”

  As the song died away a woman approached me, perhaps twenty, perhaps a little less, very pretty, legs long, eyes dark, skirt sheer, throat and wrists and waist decorated with jewelry, face painted. I thought she’d be even prettier without the decoration.

  “I’m Tebes, My Lord.” Her voice was sultry, practiced.

  I twisted my cup in my fingers. “My Lady.”

  She laughed. “Hardly.” Her eyes swept the room. “No soldiers with you this time?”

  I’d discovered her in a room upstairs two days ago with one of the traitors named by Bunakhtef. I’d unceremoniously dragged him from her bed. “I didn’t apologize for interrupting you, Tebes. Anyway, I’m here for my own amusement this time.”

  Tebes leaned close. “Come to me, that I might see your perfection,” she cooed mechanically, trying to take my hand.

  I waved her off and called for more wine.

  “May we join you, Kairy?”

  Without waiting for my reply, Hori and Meribast sat beside me. I’d met both of them briefly in the audience hall and at various banquets when I was shadowing Ramesses before he succeeded his father. I shrugged.

  “I’m amazed you’re still alive,” Hori said.

  “Why is that?”

  “We were both in the audience hall today,” Meribast replied. He slapped the rump of the girl filling his cup and wine spilled onto the table. She laughed lightly and spun out of his reach.

  I shrugged. “It was stupid of me to let my emotions get the best of me. I suppose if I hadn’t saved Pharaoh’s life a time or two these past years he’d have had me executed on the spot.” I took a long drink of wine. Time to reinforce my earlier performance. “Any other ruler would have. But the fourth Ramesses is weak.”

  “You see it too.” Khametir had joined us. “More wine for the man who defied Pharaoh and lived!” he shouted, raising his cup in the air.

  My cup was refilled. This time by Tebes. She’d sent the girl away. Apparently, she wasn’t giving up on being with me.

  An older man approached and saluted me with his raised cup. “It was my privilege to serve with you on several campaigns in Retenu.” He had the look of a soldier – skin leathery, muscled, scarred.

  “And I,” more added, pressing close.

  I was beginning to attract a crowd. Good.

  “Pentawere saw clearly.” It was the first soldier. “‘Build an empire,’ he said. ‘Gain booty and slaves and women,’ he said.” The soldier shook his head. “The wrong brother died if you ask me.” He emptied his cup.

  “The Falcon in the Nest and the rest of Pharaoh’s brothers are no better than him – all rotten branches on a once–strong tree,” Meribast opined.

  “You can be sure Pentawere’s son will be closely guarded by Pharaoh after he’s born,” I said. “He’ll be imprisoned his whole life. He’ll never have a chance to follow in his father’s glorious footsteps.”

  “You’re sure the witch is carrying a boy?” Khametir asked.

  “Why else would Pharaoh have me guarding her estate? Why else would Pharaoh have commanded that I bring the boy directly to him as soon as he’s born?” I grabbed a nearly empty cup of wine belonging to one of the other men instead of my own full one and drank it off and slammed the cup down on the table and wiped my mouth with my forearm. My task was to appear drunk tonight, not get drunk. I looke
d around at the crowd, sheepishly. “I’ve said far too much.”

  Tebes leaned over my shoulder and refilled my cup from her jar, purposefully brushing against me. Our eyes met briefly. She seemed to be mulling over what I’d said. Unlike most of the men gathered around, she was clear–eyed and clear–headed. “Is it true you were present when Pharaoh was killed?” she asked, straightening.

  I nodded.

  Her fingertips rested lightly on my back, traced my scar. “That’s how you earned this?”

  I nodded, looked up into her dark eyes. “A few seconds earlier and I’d have saved His Majesty – life, health, prosperity – justified. Can you imagine the honors the third Ramesses would have heaped on me? Instead, the fourth’s decreed I’m going to oversee his stable.” Time to convince the watchers of my dissatisfaction, reiterate my complaints from the audience hall. “I’ve served Pharaoh for over a decade,” I said bitterly. “I’ve kept him safe in battle. I’ve looked out for him in the desert. I trained the Falcon in the Nest to command his army. I’ve eaten desert dust and gone without food and water too many times to even remember. And what’s my reward? To guard a pregnant witch and then oversee a bunch of horses.”

  “Is she really a witch?” Hori queried.

  “Everyone heard her confess at her trial to using magic. Pharaoh and his courtiers were too afraid to imprison her at Djeme where she might bewitch them, so they made me take her to her estate. Why should I have to face a witch’s curse day in and day out? Pharaoh owed me respect if nothing else after what I’ve done for him. After what I’m still doing for him. Instead, he insulted me.”

  And so it went all evening and deep into the night and early into the next morning, men leaving my group to climb the stairs with assorted women, other men taking their places, clustering around me and commiserating about the unfairness of Pharaoh. I was surprised at the enmity that had developed between Pharaoh and these men. The lies Pentawere had spread for years had done real damage. None of these men would have complained about the Pharaoh I knew, if they knew him as well as I.

  Eventually, feigning a drunken stupor, I lay my head on my table and pretended to sleep. And then I slept for real. It had been a long couple of days.

  I awakened. I felt a hand on my shoulder, lips against my ear. The room was lightening. Day was breaking.

  “Come with me, Kairy.”

  Tebes.

  “There’s a man I know who believes his interests and yours are aligned. He wants to speak with you about certain… opportunities. I’ll take you to him.”

  Enemies had taken the bait. Excellent! I sat up. Now the reason Tebes had served me all night was clear. She was one of Pharaoh’s enemies’ tools. What better place for them to have eyes and ears than this particular brothel? What better eyes and ears than hers? I rose, staggered across the room the way any drunk newly awakened would and out the door. Despite the early hour an already hot breeze washed over me. I stumbled after Tebes. She led me through a warren of narrow dusty lanes to a section of Waset where prosperous officials lived behind high mud–brick walls and wooden gates. She stopped beside a nondescript gate, looked up and down the lane, then pushed the gate open. I followed her through a lush palm–shaded garden surrounding a shallow pool to the entrance of the house. The house was three storeys tall, clearly the residence of a wealthy man. That implied that Pharaoh’s enemies were well–financed. Tebes opened the door and we went inside.

  It was much cooler than outside. The ground floor appeared to be the domain of servants. I caught sight of rooms for grinding grain and weaving flax and baking and brewing, though all of them were strangely empty. In fact, Tebes and I seemed to be the only people in the house. Whoever was meeting with me had clearly emptied it of witnesses so we’d have privacy. Tebes and I climbed the stairs to the next floor. It contained several large reception rooms where the owner likely entertained, its tall windows maximizing the breeze, each window framing the swaying palm trees in the garden.

  Food was laid out on several platters in the largest of the rooms. I was famished. I sat on a mat and Tebes served me. Then she joined me.

  “You shouldn’t have to wait more than an hour or so,” Tebes said after we finished eating.

  I speculated that whoever was going to meet with me was making sure I hadn’t been followed and wasn’t leading him into a trap. A reasonable precaution on his part.

  “The rooms upstairs contain very luxurious beds,” Tebes said suggestively, letting the straps holding up her dress slip from her shoulders. Her dress fell to her waist. “There’s time enough… if you wish, Kairy.”

  Tebes was a beautiful woman. Gone was her makeup from the night before. Her skin was golden in the early morning light. She looked younger, far more appealing. But I shook my head no.

  Tebes nodded, smiled resignedly, pulled up her dress, fixed her straps. “Your loss.” She rose, then headed down the stairs.

  I went to the window. A moment later Tebes emerged from the house and strode through the garden and out the gate without looking back.

  Sunlight glimmered on the surface of the pond below, competing with shadows cast by the swaying palm fronds. The garden was a splash of color in a drab landscape. Beyond the walls of this villa were more like it, tall buildings with walled gardens abutting the poorer section of town, a sea of one–storey huts with flat roofs upon which pallets were spread for sleeping on hot nights. In the far distance through a dusty haze I saw the crests of the hills that guarded the Great Place across the river.

  I waited a little more than an hour. Finally, a man leisurely passed through the garden and ascended the stairs and entered the room and sat down across from me, his rank and occupation not obvious from his clothing. But the scent of incense clinging to him told me he was a priest. So. Priests had their eye on Ramesses’ throne. And no doubt plenty of wealth to support their treason, depending on the god they served. A dangerous rival for Pharaoh.

  “My name is Neby.”

  “I assume this isn’t your house.”

  “It belongs to an… associate.”

  A priest, high–ranking to have a house so fine. Or perhaps he wasn’t a priest and the conspiracy extended into the bureaucracy.

  “Whose cult do you serve, Neby?”

  “That’s of no concern to you.”

  He hadn’t denied he was a priest. Either an oversight, or he didn’t care that I’d guessed his occupation. “Tebes said you believe our interests align, Neby. What do you know of my interests?”

  He snorted. “You’ve been expressing them quite forcefully and loudly the past few days, both in Djeme and Waset.”

  “How would you know?”

  “I have eyes and ears everywhere.”

  “Tebes in the brothel. And men in Pharaoh’s audience hall?”

  “Never underestimate the usefulness of a whore.” Neby smiled, then grew serious. “Do you want to make Pharaoh pay for his treatment of you or not, Kairy?” he asked bluntly.

  “How exactly would I do that – make him pay?”

  “Answer my question first – yes or no.”

  “Tebes has reported what I’ve said or we wouldn’t be meeting. You know my answer. An emphatic yes.”

  “My superiors wish to end Pharaoh’s line for good, Kairy. This valley has unacceptably declined since the third Ramesses took the throne. Pentawere would have turned our fortunes around. The fourth Ramesses won’t. Neither will his son or his brothers. It’s time for a change.”

  “End Pharaoh’s line?” I scoffed. “Can’t be done. A coup and a kidnapping have both failed. Close to fifty men and women have been executed.”

  Neby snorted. “Pentawere and Tiye blundered. So did Pentawere’s supporters. Thanks to you.”

  “Who are your superiors, Neby?”

  “Not something you need to know – for now, at least.”

  “Because you don’t know,” I surmised. “You’re just a messenger – expendable in case I’m pretending to be disloyal to Pharaoh an
d trying to trap you.” Might as well state his obvious suspicion.

  Neby smiled. “That is indeed my role.”

  Time for me to play my role in turn – that of a disgruntled man seeking power and personal enrichment. “Why approach me, Neby? Surely you’ve corrupted someone capable of leading whatever army you’ll assemble to attack Pharaoh.”

  “You think my superiors want you to lead an army?” Neby laughed. “A chariot driver? A prison guard?”

  “Why else?” I asked stiffly. “If you had ears in Pharaoh’s audience hall you know that’s my desire.”

  “That’s not how we intend to challenge Pharaoh, with an army.”

  “How, then? What do you want from me?”

  “Simple. After Neset gives birth, instead of taking Pentawere’s son to Pharaoh, deliver him to me.”

  I acted as if I was surprised, even though it was exactly what I’d expected Neby to ask. Vizier Neferronpet had correctly predicted the next conspiracy. Now, to use Neby’s request to keep Aya from being killed by the vizier and identify Pharaoh’s enemies. “What’s in it for me if I do, Neby?”

  “Wealth.”

  I shrugged. “What good will wealth do me? If I don’t deliver Pentawere’s son to Pharaoh his soldiers will hunt me the length and breadth of the valley. Am I supposed to flee and spend the rest of my life among wretches?”

  “That’s the offer,” Neby said. “Take it or leave it. If you won’t bring us the boy we’ll just kidnap him later.” He made as if to rise.

  I studied Neby for a moment. He was underestimating me. So were his superiors. My performances in the audience hall and brothel had convinced them I was a man who could be easily bought and then disappear. But my disappearing wouldn’t save Aya or Pharaoh. Neby thought he was in the position of power in this negotiation. But he wasn’t. “Maybe you’ll be able to kidnap the boy, Neby. Or maybe Pharaoh will realize he’s a threat and kill him. Then you won’t be able to use him to challenge Pharaoh for the throne.”