Read The Assassins of Isis Online
Authors: P. C. Doherty
The Assassins of Isis (14 page)
The group of girls before him were aged between fourteen and seventeen, all garbed in pleated robes or tight-fitting sheath dresses, their beautiful soft skins coated in gold dust. Some boasted tattoos of Isis on their shoulders and arms; all were decorated with flashing jewellery, their lovely faces almost hidden by thick oiled wigs kept in place by floral fillets. The judge was aware of flashing eyes and gusts of heavy perfume, elegant hands and painted nails. Rather self-consciously he explained why he was here, and as he talked about the disappearance of their colleagues the giggling and smiles disappeared. Lady Thena encouraged the girls to speak but, in fact, they could tell him very little. They knew nothing and could not understand what had happened. The same replies were uttered time and again, slightly above a whisper. Amerotke sensed none of them were lying; there was no attempt to deceive, they were eager to chatter, reluctant to see him go, but the macabre disappearance of the four girls was a complete mystery to them.
Amerotke thanked Lady Thena and the heset chorus and left. He walked under a portico and checked the water clock in a great vase emblazoned with the sacred baboons of Thoth. The water level had dropped towards the thirteenth line; it was time that he left. As he returned to the guest house, he crossed a rather dirty courtyard in which the fountain no longer bubbled. The outside walls were decorated with scenes from the divine life of Isis. The paintings were crudely drawn, but they concentrated on one theme: âThe Battle of the Seeds between Seth, Isis, Osiris and Horus'. In one of the scenes Isis held the severed testicles of Osiris after her husband's body had been dismembered by his red-haired brother Seth. The same motif of emasculation and castration, of the god's seed being spilled, occurred in other paintings.
âMafdet!' Amerotke exclaimed. The captain of the guard had been cursed by having his heart removed and his testicles severed, a cruel way to die and be damned for ever, yet was the murder an act of revenge or the ritual killing of a soldier who had, perhaps, violated the sacred code of Isis? âOr am I being fanciful?' Amerotke whispered. Castration was a common way of dishonouring an enemy. During his military training he had come across similar grisly scenes out in the Red Lands.
Deep in thought, Amerotke continued on until he reached the guest house gardens, where Shufoy was waiting for him under the shadow of the great sycamore. The little man ran towards him and thrust a black scarab into his master's hand. It was burnt and cracked, but Amerotke could still make out the faint outline of the kneeling bowman.
âI found it amongst the ash,' Shufoy trumpeted. his scarred face all smudged. âBecause I'm short, I'm nearer to the ground. I have a nose,' he mocked himself, âfor scarabs.'
Amerotke turned the stone over in his hand. It was cracked and burnt from the fire. Had it been accidentally or deliberately dropped by the Sebaus? Had it belonged to Mafdet? Had that veteran been a member of the Sebaus, and his grisly death and the burning of his house an act of revenge by that ruthless gang? Amerotke returned the scarab to Shufoy, who slipped it into his pouch.
âWas Mafdet a member of the Sebaus?' Shufoy asked.
âPerhapsâ' Amerotke broke off as Paser came out of a porticoed entrance.
âMy lord judge, your escort has arrived. The Divine One has ordered, because of the recent attack on you, that you are not to enter the city without a guard.'
Amerotke and Shufoy quickly proceeded to the small chamber built into the gatehouse of the soaring wall which separated the gardens from the main temple precincts. General Omendap was waiting for them in full battle dress,
a leather breastplate covered in shiny mail above a red-fringed white kilt and knee-high marching boots. In the doorway beyond clustered veterans, Braves of the King from the Sacred Band, Egypt's crack regiment, which guarded the Divine House. Omendap grasped Amerotke's hand. He was eager to leave, explaining that the Divine One herself had ordered him here to protect Amerotke.
a leather breastplate covered in shiny mail above a red-fringed white kilt and knee-high marching boots. In the doorway beyond clustered veterans, Braves of the King from the Sacred Band, Egypt's crack regiment, which guarded the Divine House. Omendap grasped Amerotke's hand. He was eager to leave, explaining that the Divine One herself had ordered him here to protect Amerotke.
They waited until Impuki and Lady Thena arrived, then Amerotke made his farewells and left, the Sacred Band, armed with long shields and sharp-edged spears, gathering about him in a protective ring. They crossed the temple courtyard, which was packed with petitioners and pilgrims gathered round the soaring statues or waiting to fill their water jars from the holy fountains. They all stood aside, gaping at the approach of the Sacred Band's standard-bearer carrying the half-moon banner displaying the insignia of Amun-Ra, a scarlet ram's head against a golden background. The escort passed through the soaring pylons, down the steep steps and into the heat, dust and smells of the city. The streets and squares thronged with busy crowds. Amerotke glimpsed passing scenes: a barber on his stool underneath a tree shouting for custom, a fruit seller arguing with a cook next to his portable grill. He felt as if he was out in a carriage, protected against everything, rather light-headed now he was in the centre of such noise after the calm of the temple. Shufoy, however, was full of it, skipping ahead like a boy released from school.
âDid you know General Suten well?' Amerotke decided to draw Omendap into conversation.
âI spoke for him in court, of course I did.'
Amerotke drew a fan from beneath his robe and gently wafted cooling air over himself.
âI'll be blunt,' he declared. âHis death is a mystery.' He paused. âIs it possible Suten brought those snakes on to the roof terrace to confront his own fears, as a soldier who is
frightened of water will immerse himself to overcome his terrors?'
frightened of water will immerse himself to overcome his terrors?'
âIt's possible!' Omendap scratched his cheek with the tip of his gold-tipped swagger stick. âSuten was very brave, always in the lead in the chariot charge, the first to bring down an enemy. In battle he was ferocious as a panther. He often expressed his disgust at the nightmares he suffered.'
âAnd his wife?'
âHe dearly loved, and was loved by, the Lady Lupherna.'
âAnd Heby?'
âYou can find the same in any general's household, an honest, loyal valet.'
âAnd the scribe Menna?'
âA good quartermaster, a soldier himself, totally devoted to his master. A man of little intelligence, mind you. Suten was always recommending Menna for promotion.' Omendap snorted. âMenna always failed his exams. A good, stolid man with little imagination.'
Amerotke peered through the line of soldiers. He glimpsed a black-garbed figure, but dismissed this as a figment of his imagination.
âIs the prisoner safe? You know we captured one?'
âOh, I know all about him. Asural will look after him. Don't forget, Amerotke, Captain Asural once served with me. I had a hand in his appointment to the temple. Suten was no different; a born leader, he looked after his men even after they retired. He organised an old fraternity of veterans; Nadif, the Medjay officer who was the first to be summoned when Suten was killed, was a member of this group. There are such gatherings all over Thebes. They meet to feast, to recall the glory days, they pay their dues and club together to construct tombs in the Necropolis.' Omendap raised a hand. âI'll recall their name in a minute. Ah yes, they call themselves the Heti.'
âThat's the word for smoke.'
âThat's how these old soldiers see themselves: the fire
has gone out but the smoke remains, here today and gone tomorrow. Well, my lord judge, you must be pleased to be returning home.'
has gone out but the smoke remains, here today and gone tomorrow. Well, my lord judge, you must be pleased to be returning home.'
âNot yet.' Amerotke grasped Omendap's arm. âFirst I want to visit Suten's house. No, don't object, it's time I saw the place where he died.'
Omendap couldn't refuse. They turned west through the dusty, palm-fringed money-changers' quarter and out through the Gate of Ivory. They followed the avenue along the Nile, through the shabby, sun-baked villages of peasants and artisans and on to the thoroughfare which swept between the river and the city walls to the Mansions of the Mighty. When they reached Suten's palatial residence they quickly gained entrance through the well-guarded gates into a lush garden which reminded Amerotke of his own, with its green coolness, fountains, pools, herb gardens and shrubs. More soldiers stood inside, sheltering in the arbours, pavilions and groves. Amerotke recalled his own order: Heby was under house arrest; these soldiers would make sure he did not leave.
Menna came striding down the garden path to greet them. He was dressed in a knee-length robe with a coloured cape about his shoulders, his thick black hair cropped just above his ears. Up close Amerotke could study the sturdy peasant face, hard eyes, determined mouth and jutting chin. Behind him Heby danced from foot to foot, eyes and face anxious, which probably accounted for the food stains on his robe. Menna bowed, welcoming Amerotke to the house, and explained that Lady Lupherna had retired to her own chambers and been given a sleeping draught by her physician. Amerotke returned the greeting, refused the offer of refreshment and demanded to be taken to the roof terrace. Menna led him through the hall of audience; despite the coloured pillars and frescoes, elegant furniture and tassled cushions, it all seemed rather gloomy. Beyond it lay a small passageway leading to a kitchen and, through
a doorway on the left, the staircase to the roof terrace. Amerotke paused at the bottom step.
a doorway on the left, the staircase to the roof terrace. Amerotke paused at the bottom step.
âWho was here the night Suten died?'
âI was in my writing office. Lady Lupherna kept coming in and out from the hall of audience on this task and the other. Heby guarded the stairs.'
Amerotke nodded and climbed the steps. At the top he flinched at the heat. The roof terrace was deserted except for a few remaining pieces of furniture. It was a huge square, the edge of the roof bounded by a small protective wall and on top of this, as was customary, a sturdy acacia-wood fence about three feet high, sure protection against anyone falling over. Leaving the rest at the top of the steps, Amerotke slowly walked round the terrace. He could see there was no gap in the trellis fence, no adjoining building; the roof looked down only on to lush gardens. He grasped the fence and looked over. There were windows below, but each one was covered by a grill; neither could anyone have hoisted a sack of horned vipers up on to the roof. He walked very slowly around the perimeter again and tried to visualise it on the night Suten had died. There would have been furniture: tables, chairs and stools; he could tell from marks on the floor where the bed had been. There would have been posts at each corner of this, over which linen drapes could be hung as protection against the dust and flies.
âTell me,' Amerotke called, standing where he was sure the bed had been. âGeneral Suten was here, sitting on his bed?'
âLying on the floor next to it,' Menna called back. âThe snakes were curling all about him, there was very little we could do.'
Amerotke walked back.
âThe night was cool?'
âYes, my lord. There was a brazier, chafing dishes if General Suten wanted to warm his fingers.' Menna's hard
face broke into a smile. âBut the general always prided himself on being tough. A man who had withstood the freezing cold nights of the desert, and its heat.'
face broke into a smile. âBut the general always prided himself on being tough. A man who had withstood the freezing cold nights of the desert, and its heat.'
âThere was food and wine?'
âOh yes,' the scribe answered. âWe had all eaten here beforehand; dishes of fruit were left. Why, my lord?'
âFor sake of argument,' Amerotke pointed to the steps, âif Heby had brought the snakes and released them here at the top of the steps, where would they have gone?'
âWhy?' Menna scratched his head.
âThey wouldn't have gone straight to the general,' Amerotke declared. âThey weren't Libyan marauders but snakes, taken from their pit and released in a strange place. The night was cold, perhaps it was some time since they had eaten.'
âThey would have gone towards the heat and food.' Shufoy spoke up. âThat's what they always do in a house. Snakes coil near the hearth or over a dish of food. They only attack when they are disturbed.'
Amerotke patted the little man on the shoulder.
âWhich means,' the judge continued, âthe snakes must have been taken directly over to General Suten. Now, if he was awake he would protest, object, raise the alarm. So he must have been asleep. If,' he added with a sigh, âthat's what happened.'
âOr?' Menna asked.
âOr,' Amerotke conceded, âthe general knew all about the snakes because he brought them up here himself. When the roof terrace was deserted, he decided to confront his own terrors and release them. It may sound foolish to us, but a man suffering from a nightmare may do the most extraordinary things.'
Menna shook his head. âBut that's impossible!'
âWhy?'
âGeneral Suten came up here for dinner, he finished, the lamps were lit and we went downstairs.'
âBut not before most of the food was cleared and the roof terrace, as usual, searched for snakes?'
âYes,' Menna nodded. âBut you see, my lord Amerotke, as far as I can recollect, General Suten never left the roof terrace, he never went downstairs to bring up a strange-looking sack. Moreover, when we searched the roof terrace, we found nothing. So either Heby brought up that sack on General Suten's orders, which I know he didn't, or he brought it up of his own accord.'
Other books
Paper-Thin Alibi by Mary Ellen Hughes
Exposed by S Anders
Hard to Handle by Lori Foster
The Discovery of Heaven by Harry Mulisch
Ivan’s War by Merridale, Catherine
Prince of the Icemark by Stuart Hill
Princess Elizabeth's Spy by Susan Elia MacNeal
Fall of Angels by L. E. Modesitt
Dark Ambition by Allan Topol
The Serpent's Bite by Warren Adler
