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Authors: P. C. Doherty

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BOOK: The Assassins of Isis
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At first Amerotke rested and refreshed himself at the water hole. Despite the oasis' name, the water was clear and sweet. He made sure Shufoy was comfortable before going over to a tent awning just inside the prison gate where the warder and the prisoner known as the Libyan were waiting for him.
‘You've travelled all this way to see me?' The Libyan was tall, with a long face, narrowed eyes and high cheekbones. He had his hair gathered in a clump behind him, his groin covered by a simple leather skirt. Amerotke noticed blue and red tattoos on the man's muscular torso.
‘So you are a warrior?' Amerotke spoke the lingua franca of the barracks. ‘You have killed men in battle?'
‘I am a warrior and a chief,' the Libyan replied in a high, clipped voice. His mouth had a bitter twist, his eyes a sly look. ‘I have killed Egyptians in battle. Why are you here, what is your name?'
‘My name does not concern you. I have come to ask you a question. Why should your people storm a place like this and kill all the prisoners and their keepers?'
‘They would never do that.'
‘But they did. Look around you, Libyan. Apart from our
chariots and horses, and perhaps our weapons, what value is there here?'
‘Are you a judge? I heard one of the guards say you are a judge. Tell me what is happening in Thebes.'
Amerotke was about to refuse, but the Libyan was keen; he could probably sense that this visit was to his profit. He leaned over, lifting his chained hands as if in prayer.
‘Speak with true voice, judge, tell me what's happening in Thebes.'
Amerotke described the tomb robberies, the death of General Suten. At the mention of his name the Libyan half smiled, his eyes glancing away.
‘We should have killed him,' he whispered, ‘or taken him prisoner. Well, judge, what else has happened?'
Amerotke described the slaying of Captain Mafdet and the disappearance of the four hesets. When he had finished, the Libyan asked for a cup of wine. Amerotke agreed, and the Libyan raised the coarse beaker in toast.
‘Tell me, judge,' the prisoner asked, ‘if you were a Libyan warrior, what would you need out in the desert?'
‘Gold and silver to buy weapons and food.'
‘We have enough of that ourselves. What we don't have we can always take.' He laughed at Amerotke's puzzlement. ‘If I help you, judge, what will happen to me?'
‘If you really help me, those chains will be released. You will be given fresh clothing and taken back across the Nile. You will be provided with food and water, a bow, a dagger and a quiver of arrows. You will be free to rejoin your people.'
The smiled faded from the Libyan's face, and he pointed to the chain around Amerotke's neck bearing the sign of truth.
‘Put your hand on that and swear.'
Amerotke did so. The Libyan finished the wine and asked for more, smacking his lips appreciatively.
‘The temple girls,' he began, ‘the hesets, they are virgins of good family? Soft-skinned and beautiful?'
‘If the Libyans want women, they raid the villages.'
‘What raids?' the Libyan retorted. ‘How successful are we? What casualties do we take? A great deal of fighting for what? Some old woman left behind or a peasant girl too stupid to hide?' In a clatter of chains he tapped the side of his face. ‘Think, judge: the Libyan tribes wander the desert, women are a scarcity, marriages are dominated by blood ties.' He grinned with sharp pointed teeth at Amerotke's surprise. ‘What a prize, eh, for a chief to attack a place like this, kill everyone, take some paltry plunder but receive in reward four of Egypt's finest women! Girls chosen for their beauty and grace. If you think I'm lying, ask yourself this question. How much would an Egyptian merchant pay for one girl?'
‘A veritable fortune, but—'
‘But,' the Libyan finished the sentence, ‘how can such a prize be hidden? What dire punishment awaits you if captured? Your girls are gone, judge, out in the desert. They were the price of that attack.'
SHENSTET: ancient Egyptian, ‘wickedness'
Amerotke sat in the audience hall of Lord Impuki's mansion in the Temple of Isis. He stared out of the open window, once again quietly rejoicing at having returned from the gruelling heat of the Red Lands. The squadron had left the Oasis of Bitter Grass long before dawn. Their journey had been exhausting but unremarkable, and they had reached the Sphinx Gate of northern Thebes just before dawn the following day. Amerotke had spent the rest of the day sleeping and relaxing, once again going through the business of the court. He had already dispatched a pardon for the Libyan, whilst Djed's wife had been allowed to take her husband's corpse back to her own home. There was nothing Amerotke could do for her except express his sorrow and whisper a prayer to the spirits of the Underworld.
Shufoy had gone to the palace and had returned with more guards as well as loving messages from the Lady Norfret and the two boys. They were all well but missing him. Amerotke was pleased: his family were now in sanctuary whilst his mansion had been turned into a veritable fortress, with guards in the house and gardens as well as along the avenue leading to it. He'd tried to calm his own anxieties, taking down the scroll of Ma'at and meditating on its sayings:
Speak with true voice and the gods
will respond; Let truth flower in the heart and justice will flourish. However, he found such sayings banal, of little comfort, so he returned to his researches. He had scrupulously examined the documentation and tried to recall everything he had seen and heard. He drew some comfort that the wall of lies which confronted him, with their sinister mystery, was beginning to crumble. Ideas, suspicions, theories and reservations were springing green and fresh in his troubled mind.
Towards the end of the day, just after sunset, Amerotke decided to visit the Temple of Isis and question the three individuals who now squatted before him. Lord Impuki had been welcoming enough, inviting him to join them in a brief meal; the wine from Avaris was red and rich, the spiced quail and goose freshened by crisp lettuce strewn with herbs. Amerotke had to close his eyes; with its cool breezes and heavy fragrance this was a different world from the desert. He opened his eyes, sipped his wine and smiled across at Lord Impuki.
‘You wonder why I'm here?'
‘Of course,' Lady Thena replied for her husband. ‘Your face is tired, burnt by the sun, but your eyes are fresh.' She glanced sideways at her husband whilst stretching out to touch Paser's wrist, a furtive gesture. Amerotke wondered if she was trying to warn her two companions.
‘Mafdet was a criminal,' Amerotke began. He felt the linen curtains behind him move in the breeze, and out of the corner of his eye he glimpsed a mural of an antelope evading a hunting dog by jumping a bush. ‘Is that what I am?' He pointed at the painting. ‘A hunter out for the truth?'
‘You have already spoken the truth,' Impuki said. ‘Mafdet was a criminal.'
‘He was more than that.' Shufoy, who had been eating, now spoke up, his mouth full of meat. The High Priest lowered his cup.
‘I've come from the Red Lands,' Amerotke explained, ‘where I questioned a Libyan prisoner. The four temple girls who disappeared were probably kidnapped by Mafdet, drugged and handed over to the assassins who call themselves the Sebaus. The girls were taken out to the Red Lands and given as a bribe to a Libyan war chief. In return for this, the Libyans raided a prison oasis and killed a man who the Sebaus thought might betray them.'
All three gazed back in shocked horror. Lady Thena's fingers went to her lips; her eyes had a glazed look. Paser could only stare in astonishment.
‘This cannot be true!' Lord Impuki lifted his hands.
‘It is true,' Amerotke insisted. ‘If I gave the date of the raid by the Libyans on the oasis, you would find it took place during the same period of time the four girls were abducted. One girl would be handed over as surety, the other three as the rest of the reward. It could easily be done. Mafdet was a soldier. He could flatter these girls, meet them in some lonely part of the temple and give them a drugged drink, or force them to take it. This could happen at any time, late in the afternoon or early evening. The girls fell into a deep sleep. The Sebaus came at night over the walls; they had maps of this temple and certainly would have sent messengers in. Once away from the temple,' Amerotke shrugged, ‘who could stop them?'
‘Those poor girls.'
‘It's a common enough practice,' Paser agreed. ‘Even in Egypt women are kidnapped for the brothels or houses of pleasure. I know something of the Libyans, the way their clans are organised; if they are short of women, a temple virgin would be considered more precious than gold.'
‘But how would Mafdet choose his victims?' Impuki asked.
‘I met the temple girls,' Amerotke smiled, ‘and I've met young women of similar status. Their heads are full of romantic dreams. Mafdet would be like a lion that has
chosen its prey; he would take her away from the rest, then strike.'
‘But someone would have to come into this temple. Arrangements would have to be made about where and when,' Paser pointed out.
‘Do you know a former soldier called Djed?' Amerotke's question was greeted with blank surprise. ‘He used to visit his father here in the House of Twilight.'
‘We could check the records,' Impuki murmured, still not recovered from the shock. ‘As you know, Lord Amerotke, many veterans come here either for healing or just to die. I never saw Mafdet meet anybody.'
‘So now we come to Mafdet's murder,' Amerotke continued. ‘There are two possibilities: that he was murdered by the Sebaus because he betrayed them, threatened to, or even tried blackmail. But that wouldn't make sense; to betray his masters would be to betray himself, which would mean hideous execution.'
‘And the second possibility?' Lady Thena asked.
‘That Mafdet was murdered by someone else, as an act of revenge, a punishment for his hideous crimes. But if that's the case, why did the Sebaus come here to burn his house?'
‘What makes you think.' Lady Thena asked, ‘that Mafdet drugged those girls before abducting them?'
‘Didn't you tell me certain powders had been taken, the juice of the poppy?'
‘So it was Mafdet!'
‘Yes, Lady Thena.'
‘Let us return to Mafdet's murder.' Paser spoke briskly. He paused, cleaning his teeth with his tongue. ‘If he was murdered as an act of revenge for abducting those temple girls, his assassin must have discovered his crime and decided to carry out sentence. But if that was someone in the temple, surely they would have discovered the crime long before the fourth girl disappeared? And even if they
discovered it afterwards, why not just report Mafdet to the authorities? Why take judgement into their own hands?'
Amerotke gazed at this intelligent young priest's face and nodded in agreement.
‘I can see why you have been promoted high in the temple hierarchy, Lord Paser. I hadn't thought of that. When I told you the news about the fate of those four girls you were shocked, as any right-minded person would be. What you are saying is that Mafdet was executed for other reasons, which in turn takes me back to the first possibility, that his death was the work of the Sebaus.'
‘A good conclusion,' Lord Impuki observed. ‘From what I gather, these Sebaus are ruthless; they used Mafdet and decided to dispose of him. A dead man cannot speak, be it lies or the truth.'
Amerotke was forced to agree. He finished his wine and rose to his feet, bowing towards his hosts.
‘There are other matters,' he declared. ‘I have my guards outside, but I would like to stay in the temple and speak with you again tomorrow.'
Lord Impuki graciously offered the guest house and Amerotke accepted.
Shufoy, still filling his mouth with spiced meat, got grudgingly to his feet. A servant led them out across the silent perfumed gardens to the guest house. Amerotke's guards followed, their officer explaining that they would stay outside with men at every window and door. Amerotke thanked him and was about to go in when he heard his name called. Paser came hastening through the darkness, a servant hurrying beside him carrying a torch.
‘My lord, the business of the court, General Suten? Is that manservant guilty?'
‘Why do you ask?'
‘Oh, it's just that we know him. He and Chief Scribe Menna often accompanied General Suten to the temple when he came for treatment or visited our library.'
‘That is why I want to stay here.' Amerotke smiled. ‘Tomorrow morning I wish to visit your House of Books. I want to check the records and see what manuscripts General Suten demanded. You have records for the Valley of the Kings?'
‘A few,' Paser agreed.
‘Then I would be grateful if you had them ready. Goodnight.' The judge stretched out his hand. Paser grasped it, and Amerotke, smiling to himself, opened the door and went up to his chamber.
‘You seem very pleased.' Shufoy squatted on the floor examining a figurine of the household god Bes. He gazed across at his master, who had taken off his sandals and lay on the bed staring up at the cedarwood ceiling. ‘I know you are pleased,' Shufoy continued, ‘you are trying to hide a smile. You certainly made those people jump.'
‘I didn't mean to make them jump,' Amerotke replied. ‘Lord Impuki and the others are good people, their hearts are pure and they try to speak with true voice, but they are hiding something.'
‘What?' Shufoy asked.
Amerotke sighed and pulled himself up. ‘Mafdet was a sinner and a criminal. I would wager my life that he was a member of the Sebaus and abducted those four girls; he stole the powders and drugged them. So why should the Sebaus murder him so barbarously and burn his house? At the same time, as Paser ingeniously explained, if he was murdered as an act of revenge for the abduction for those girls, why would someone do that? They would simply have had to report him to the Divine House, produce the evidence, allow Lord Valu and his interrogators loose on him and Mafdet would have died screaming on a stake.'
‘So he
was
killed for another reason?'
‘Precisely, my little friend. Mafdet was guilty of another crime which we haven't discovered.'
‘So why did the Sebaus return to burn his house?'
‘Do you remember Djed? And his secret treasure trove?'
‘Ah, of course.' Shufoy got to his feet, dancing with excitement. ‘The Sebaus returned to destroy any evidence, anything Mafdet might have hidden away. Tell me, Master, could the Sebaus be controlled by the Temple of Isis?'
‘Possibly; many former soldiers come here. Yet Lord Paser foiled their attack, and we actually captured a Sebaus because of him.'
‘But Paser might have known he wouldn't talk.' Shufoy gestured with his hands. ‘And the Khetra, whoever he is, made sure of that.'
‘All things are possible,' Amerotke replied, lying back on the bed. ‘The Temple of Isis may be the heart of the Sebaus: they control former soldiers, Mafdet worked here, Mafdet died here, whilst the temple archives might hold the secrets of the Valley of the Kings.'
Shufoy squatted back down again. ‘What if, Master, what if Lord Impuki is the Khetra? What if he instructed Mafdet to abduct those girls and then decided to silence him?'
‘All things are possible,' Amerotke repeated. ‘I follow your logic, Shufoy, but I have a feeling, a deep suspicion, that Mafdet was killed for another reason, though I don't know what. There was undoubtedly bad blood between him and Lord Impuki, though all the High Priest will say is that he just disliked the man. There's got to be something else … Now, Shufoy, I am tired.'
Amerotke stared up at the polished panels on the ceiling and tried to remember a prayer, a song for the family that his father had taught him, but he had only reached the second line when he fell deeply asleep.
The following morning he and Shufoy washed, dressed, and broke their fast on the temple lawns. They had hardly finished when Paser came over, greeted them and offered to take them to the House of Books. As he led them away from the guest house and across the temple grounds he explained how he had been excused from the early-morning
ceremonies. Amerotke could hear the faint sound of the choirs intoning their morning hymn to the rising sun and the Great Mother. The fresh air was spiced with the tang of blood from the sacrifices and the heavy gusts of incense seeping through the windows of the sanctuaries.
BOOK: The Assassins of Isis
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