The Assassins of Isis (15 page)
Read The Assassins of Isis Online
Authors: P. C. Doherty
âOr,' Shufoy was determined not to be silenced, âsomehow the general had hidden the sack away on the roof terrace.'
âImpossible!' Menna snapped.
Amerotke shaded his eyes against the sun. It was now mid-afternoon; the heat was intense, not even a whisper of a breeze. He stared across this place of death. Once again he decided to walk the perimeter, holding on to the trellis fence. He was approaching the place where the bed had stood, not far from the perimeter wall, when his hand brushed a piece of stout cord which had been wound round one of the trellis posts. He stared at it curiously. The cord was the toughest twine, the knot tied tightly, but the rest had been cut away. He leaned over the fence and peered down at the cluster of bushes and shrubs below, then returned to examine the cord. It was still fresh, slightly slippery, its oil not yet dried out by the weather.
âWhat is this?' he called across to Menna.
âWhat have you found?' Menna came across.
Amerotke tapped the upright post, then stood back, spreading his hands. âThe general's bed stood here, protected by its linen drapes. Is it possible that General Suten did decide to face his fears? Only the gods know how, and I will have to reflect further on this, but did the general obtain a sack of horned vipers in order to confront the terrors which plagued his soul once and for all? It is possible that, earlier on the day he died, General Suten brought a sack here, lowered it over the edge of the roof
and tied the cord to this wooden post. No one could see it from the garden below, where there are only shrubs and bushes, no lawns or pools of purity; a deserted part of the grounds. The general did not alert anyone to what he was planning. A soldier, he followed the usual routine of having the place searched, but once the roof terrace was cleared, he drew the sack up, cut the cord around its neck and released the snakes.'
and tied the cord to this wooden post. No one could see it from the garden below, where there are only shrubs and bushes, no lawns or pools of purity; a deserted part of the grounds. The general did not alert anyone to what he was planning. A soldier, he followed the usual routine of having the place searched, but once the roof terrace was cleared, he drew the sack up, cut the cord around its neck and released the snakes.'
âBut we found no sack,' Menna insisted.
âNot yet.' Amerotke walked back across the roof terrace and shouted down the stairs. âGeneral Omendap! I would be grateful if you could organise your men to search the bushes and shrubs on the far side of the roof terrace. They are looking for a leather sack.'
âA sack? Are you sure?' Omendap queried.
âYes,' came the reply. âI think I know how General Suten died!'
HESBET: ancient Egyptian, âa reckoning'
Darkness had fallen. The flies danced around the lamps. A breeze rattled the shutters over the windows and set the candle flames dancing. The garden outside had fallen silent, although now and again the croaking of the frogs welled up in harsh chorus. Amerotke picked up the flower Norfret had placed on his writing desk and sniffed appreciatively at its lovely perfume. On any other occasion he would have composed a poem; the opening lines of one came like some invited guest into his mind, and he spoke it aloud:
âHasten
now my heart and do not falter on its way.'
now my heart and do not falter on its way.'
He had to keep up appearances, although Norfret was not fooled. They had already quietly decided that tomorrow morning she and their two sons would accept the Divine One's offer to shelter in the palace precincts.
Amerotke leaned back, pulling his white robe more closely around him. He had returned to find his house well guarded, yet Norfret had taken him down along the garden paths to the whitewashed shrine in the cypress grove, a small temple containing a statue of the goddess Ma'at. Amerotke hadn't entered; instead he had gazed in mounting fear at the sinister figure scrawled crudely in charcoal on the shrine wall, a man kneeling holding a bow. The drawing had a macabre power all of its own, as if it were ready to
stand, leave the wall and wreak devastation in the heart of Amerotke's paradise.
stand, leave the wall and wreak devastation in the heart of Amerotke's paradise.
Despite Norfret's pleas, Amerotke had given way to a fit of rage. Taking water from a nearby pool, he'd tried to wash the drawing off, but ended crouched against the wall, sweat dripping off him. Shufoy had come and quietly taken over, ordering servants to scrub the blasphemy away, whilst Amerotke had returned to the house to thank General Omendap and make his farewells. Norfret couldn't tell him when the drawing had first appeared, though Amerotke suspected it had been done before members of the Sacred Band had taken up guard around the walls of his house.
His two sons had been delighted to see him, totally unaware of the danger which threatened them. They'd jumped up and down, begging their father to play a game of senet. He had given in to their entreaties, allowing both the boys to win against their father.
âIt wasn't difficult,' he confessed to Norfret as Shufoy led the children off to play a game of wild goose in the garden. âIt wasn't difficult at all. I was barely aware of playing the game!'
Amerotke had retired to his bedchamber, slept a while and celebrated the evening meal with his family on the roof terrace. Shufoy had once again kept the boys distracted before leading them away for bed.
The Chief Judge of the Hall of True Truths sighed, gazed around, and glanced at the sack lying next to his feet. One of Omendap's men had found it beneath a bush; its dark brown colour had kept it hidden among the all-concealing shoots of the shrubbery. Amerotke picked it up, along with the piece of twine found inside, the same type of cord that had been tied round the trellis post on the roof of Suten's house. He could see where the knife had sliced through it. He pulled open the sack and sniffed its fetid odour. The coarse texture of the inside still bore minute pieces of scaled skin which must have fallen off as the horned vipers coiled there. On
the outside were traces of white dust, the occasional thorn and tenacious leaf, ample proof that the sack must have hung for a while against the outside wall of the house before being brought up, the snakes loosed and the sack thrown over the fence into the garden below.
the outside were traces of white dust, the occasional thorn and tenacious leaf, ample proof that the sack must have hung for a while against the outside wall of the house before being brought up, the snakes loosed and the sack thrown over the fence into the garden below.
Amerotke had gone down to the garden, and a soldier had shown him the exact place where he had found the sack. Looking back up at the roof of the house, Amerotke could imagine General Suten bringing the sack up earlier in the day, hanging it over the side of the roof parapet and lashing it by the cord to the wooden post. All the servants had maintained that very few people entered that part of the garden. The sack would have hung low whilst the cord would have been concealed by the drapes around the general's bed canopy. Suten, determined to confront his fears, had let the sack hang there until the evening meal was finished. Afterwards, taking a deep draught of wine laced with poppy juice to steady his nerve, he had pulled the sack up, released the snakes and thrown the empty sack into the garden below.
General Omendap had been surprised, yet accepted the logic of Amerotke's conclusion.
âI've done the same myself,' he confessed. âDeliberately created danger so I know how to confront it.'
Menna, however, had been speechless, shaking his head in disbelief. Heby had cried in relief, whilst Lady Lupherna, disturbed by the noise, had come hastening down, heavy-eyed, to see what was happening. The sack had been carefully examined time and again until Amerotke had pronounced himself satisfied. General Suten's household had been overjoyed, clapping their hands, servants thronging about, although Chief Scribe Menna and Lady Lupherna were still shocked and unbelieving. However, Amerotke had demanded that Heby must remain under house guard and appear before his court the day after next so the royal prosecutor could hear the evidence and the case be formally dismissed.
At first Amerotke had been very pleased with himself, but as he left the house, he felt a little uneasy at what he had discovered. Was it Menna's disbelief? Had he overlooked something? Or was it just his own tiredness? Perhaps it had been that old porter who, as Amerotke approached the main gate, grasped the judge's hand and said how sad he was that General Suten had died. How quiet and withdrawn his master had been for weeks before the event.
âI was a soldier,' the old porter chewed on his toothless gums, âa member of the Menfyt.' He referred to the shock troops who stiffened the Egyptian battle line. âI served General Suten's father, and would have been a beggar, but the general saw me in the street and told me I could be porter here until my dying day. Now, wasn't he a good and true gentleman? And yet,' the wizened old veteran shook his head, âsometimes so sad, so sad.'
Amerotke had nodded understandingly, gently prised loose the old man's talon-like fingers, bade him farewell and continued on to his own mansion.
Now he brushed a bead of sweat away from his forehead and smelt the tips of his fingers, savouring the delicious perfume Norfret had anointed him with just before the evening meal. She was now busying herself deciding what things should be taken, whilst he lurked here in what he jokingly referred to as his hephet, his cavern of writing. He must have sat for an hour at least, watching the wicks in their bowls of oil float in the breeze as he tried to make sense of what had happened, recalling everything he had seen and heard. He picked up the sack still draped across his knees, folded it carefully and put it under his chair, then grasped the sharpened quill, brought a lamp closer and began to write carefully on the papyrus stretched out before him, held smooth and firm by the little weights placed on each corner.
The tomb
robbers -
he had learnt a bitter lesson. Two days ago, despite a few reservations, he thought he had
resolved this case, but he had simply turned over the nest and the hornets were now busy around him. Who are they? Amerotke carefully drew the question mark. The gang of thieves, that horde of ruffians who called themselves the Sebaus, were controlled by the Khetra, the Watchman, a powerful, mysterious figure who knew all about the hidden tombs in the Valley of the Kings and Queens, their secret entrances, their false passageways and, above all, the treasures they contained. He could imagine the Sebaus slipping through the valley, forcing their way in and removing the treasures. Many had tried this before, but only the most knowledgeable realised where to go and what they could plunder. Amerotke had studied all such tomb robberies, going back decades, and whenever they happened, some high-ranking official was always involved. The Sebaus, however, were different. They would not only remove treasures, but had the power to move them along the Nile and across Egypt's borders. Such power could only come from the Khetra, a man who must be surrounded by the paraphernalia of high office. Who could it be? Someone like Impuki, a high priest, well known to the myriads who flocked to his temple for solace and relief? The Temple of Isis possessed an extensive library and archives which housed all sorts of secrets, whilst a man like Impuki also held the cartouche, the imperial seal of Egypt. He could organise a string of pack animals to cross Sinai, their burdens sealed against any inspection. Moreover, Mafdet had been Impuki's man. Amerotke could only accept the High Priest's word that he and the captain of the guard had disliked each other. Neverthless Mafdet had been barbarously slaughtered at the heart of the temple and his house burnt to the ground. Was that an act of vengeance, retribution, punishment?
robbers -
he had learnt a bitter lesson. Two days ago, despite a few reservations, he thought he had
resolved this case, but he had simply turned over the nest and the hornets were now busy around him. Who are they? Amerotke carefully drew the question mark. The gang of thieves, that horde of ruffians who called themselves the Sebaus, were controlled by the Khetra, the Watchman, a powerful, mysterious figure who knew all about the hidden tombs in the Valley of the Kings and Queens, their secret entrances, their false passageways and, above all, the treasures they contained. He could imagine the Sebaus slipping through the valley, forcing their way in and removing the treasures. Many had tried this before, but only the most knowledgeable realised where to go and what they could plunder. Amerotke had studied all such tomb robberies, going back decades, and whenever they happened, some high-ranking official was always involved. The Sebaus, however, were different. They would not only remove treasures, but had the power to move them along the Nile and across Egypt's borders. Such power could only come from the Khetra, a man who must be surrounded by the paraphernalia of high office. Who could it be? Someone like Impuki, a high priest, well known to the myriads who flocked to his temple for solace and relief? The Temple of Isis possessed an extensive library and archives which housed all sorts of secrets, whilst a man like Impuki also held the cartouche, the imperial seal of Egypt. He could organise a string of pack animals to cross Sinai, their burdens sealed against any inspection. Moreover, Mafdet had been Impuki's man. Amerotke could only accept the High Priest's word that he and the captain of the guard had disliked each other. Neverthless Mafdet had been barbarously slaughtered at the heart of the temple and his house burnt to the ground. Was that an act of vengeance, retribution, punishment?
The robberies? Amerotke recalled Hatusu and Senenmut. He could understand their anger. But was there something else? He had detected fury, but also fear. Why? Public
humiliation? Being brought into disrepute at a foreign court? Yet Hatusu seemed so personally involved, as if these robbers were blood enemies. Was this true? Or was he imagining it? Moreover, Senenmut had been extremely interested in the stolen goods recovered. They had also directed him to investigate the disappearance of the hesets at the Temple of Isis, yet instructed him not to offend the lord Impuki. Why? The High Priest could be suspected of so much.
humiliation? Being brought into disrepute at a foreign court? Yet Hatusu seemed so personally involved, as if these robbers were blood enemies. Was this true? Or was he imagining it? Moreover, Senenmut had been extremely interested in the stolen goods recovered. They had also directed him to investigate the disappearance of the hesets at the Temple of Isis, yet instructed him not to offend the lord Impuki. Why? The High Priest could be suspected of so much.
Amerotke paused in his writing. He was glad Lord Impuki could not see into his mind. He had no proof against the High Priest except a firm conviction that the Khetra, whoever he or she might be, was a powerful figure at the courts of Egypt. Of course, there was also the Lady Thena. Heset girls had gone missing from the temple, and Lady Thena was responsible for them. Amerotke remembered the High Priestess' remarks about losing her own children, the cynicism in her voice. Did she truly believe in the Mother Goddess, or was she a Kemut, a holder of lies? Someone who disbelieved in the gods and their involvement in the affairs of men? Could she have killed Mafdet? Burnt his house to silence a garrulous captain of the guard who had seen or heard something he should not have?
Amerotke dipped the quill back in the ink. True, they had all been together when Mafdet was killed; they were talking to Amerotke himself when the dead soldier's house was burnt; whilst Paser had rescued him from the assassins. Nevertheless, if the Sebaus were guilty of Mafdet's death, as well as arson and the attack on him, how could they have entered the temple so unobtrusively to wreak such devastation? In addition, what was true of Impuki could be said of many powerful figures in the Divine One's court, men such as General Omendap or even Lord Valu. They too were holders of the imperial seal, men of great power who could wield considerable influence amongst the inhabitants of the city. Except ⦠Amerotke stared at the wadjet painted on the far wall.
âExcept,' he murmured, âeverything comes back to the Temple of Isis.'
General Suten had visited there. Impuki had sent him the poppy juice. The disappearance of the hesets, the murder of Mafdet, the arson and the attack on Amerotke. The judge closed his eyes. The only satisfaction he'd obtained was the business of Lady Nethba. He truly believed the architect Sese had died of natural causes. But why had his daughter raised the complaint in the first place?
Amerotke moved to another problem: the Sebaus. Why were they still pursing him? He looked down at the pile of papers on the floor. He had been through it time and again, the confessions and the evidence against the grave-robbers. He could find nothing significant to make him a danger to these marauders. Which meant, he concluded, it was something he had overlooked. Why had they decided to attack him and not the lord Valu? Yes, that was it! Amerotke had collected the evidence. Valu had simply ordered the arrests and presented the case.
Amerotke felt his eyes grow heavy, and, sitting back, he fell into a light sleep, only to be rudely awakened by Shufoy banging on the door. He started to his feet as Shufoy, breathless, came in, waving his hands.
âWhat hour is it?'
âStill not yet midnight.' Shufoy leaned against the table. âThat doesn't matter! Captain Asural has sent a message from the House of Chains. The assassin we caught at the Temple of Isis has been found stabbed in his cell.'
âWhat!' Amerotke yelled, as he strode to the door, taking down his heavy striped robe from a peg on the wall.
âYou are not going now, master?'
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