The City of Refuge: Book 1 of The Memphis Cycle (22 page)

XXXV

“I had no better luck in the other towns, Chief,” Karoya said the next afternoon as he reported to Khonsu before supper. “No one admits to seeing Ptahemhat during the time that we think Paser was killed.”

Khonsu nodded. “What do you think?” he asked.

“I get the feeling they don't want to talk,” Karoya said. “The girl at Sumneh knows something, I'm sure. Father Neferhotep said that he'd speak with her again.” He sat back and then added, “You want me to bring her here for questioning?”

Khonsu considered and then shook his head. “We'd best not for now,” he said. “The priest said she was innocent and virtuous, and he has a point about dissembling youngsters. I'll let him speak with her for now.” He smiled and then added, “And, truly, how shameful are a few stolen kisses under the stars?”

“It depends on how shameful her family thinks them,” Karoya said. “And how acceptable they find the one doing the kissing.”

“You're right,” Khonsu agreed. He looked over at Seti, who had disposed his long, elegant frame in the shade and was skimming a report penned by one of his lieutenants. “Ptahemhat will be arrested and questioned tomorrow morning,” he said.

Seti looked up from the report and set it aside. “Tomorrow morning?” he repeated.

Khonsu nodded. “That'll give me time to speak with His Grace and tell him what we're doing so he won't worry. I know he fostered Ptahemhat in his own household. He's been ill and I don't want to upset him any more than I have to.”

“You may have to,” Seti said. “Hadn't you heard? No, come to think of it, you were patrolling to the north again. Ptahemhat has turned command over to Rai for the time being. He has His Grace's leave to return to Memphis for a week.”

“To Memphis?” Khonsu repeated. “Whatever for?”

“Something about speaking with his mother,” Seti said. “He's also bringing Paser's body back to his family for burial at His Grace's expense.”

“That's right,” Karoya said. “I'd heard something about it too. Hmm. I didn't think… Say, Chief, I think we have hit on it after all! Do you think he's going there to obtain the lady's blessing on a proposed marriage?”

“Probably,” Khonsu said, “But we can't let him leave the city with this pending!” He thought for a moment, frowning. “There's no help for it,” he said at last. “I'll have to arrest him at supper.”

“At supper?” Seti repeated. When Khonsu nodded he protested, “That doesn't give us much time to speak with His Grace and warn him!”

“It gives us no time at all,” Khonsu agreed. “Thoth's beak! I wish I had more time, but His Grace is probably changing his clothes for supper now, and I don't think he'd thank me for interrupting. Never mind, His Grace is a sensible man, and I can explain privately once the fuss has died down.”

**   **   **

Ptahemhat had been speaking expansively of Memphis and his proposed visit over supper. He was smiling as he leaned forward to take another conical loaf of bread from the pile before him. He turned to make a laughing comment to Karoya, and then sank his teeth into the seed-scattered crust. Lord Nebamun, sitting at the head of the room, was consuming a portion of roast goose with his usual economy of movement, but it was obvious to Khonsu that his mind was not on the meal.

Khonsu saw the squadron of guards arrive at the door; he nodded to them and sat back to watch as they came silently into the room.

Perineb, seated on Lord Nebamun's right, saw them first. His brows drew together; he set down his meat and looked questioningly at Khonsu as the guards surrounded Ptahemhat.

Ptahemhat was still laughing as he reached for a portion of lettuce. The laughter died under the direct stare of Khonsu's guardsmen. Even then, he merely set the lettuce down and looked up at them.

By this time Nebamun had heard the commotion and sat back with a puzzled frown.

Khonsu said quietly, “You're under arrest.”

“What?” Ptahemhat demanded.

“Will you come quietly?”

“Don't be ridiculous!” Ptahemhat said.

“Take him,” Khonsu said, nodding to his men.

Ptahemhat was too surprised to struggle as he was seized and hauled upright.

“What is the meaning of this, Commander?” demanded Nebamun, rising to his feet and wiping his hands on the cloth at his waist.

Khonsu bowed to him. “I'm detaining Ptahemhat for questioning in the death of Captain Paser, Your Grace,” he said.

“No!” Ptahemhat cried. He sounded angry, amused and frightened at once. “I didn't do it!”

“I'm not so sure, Ptahemhat,” Khonsu said.

“Well, I didn't!” Ptahemhat repeated. “And whatever you think, I'm starting for Memphis tomorrow!”

“I'm afraid that will be impossible,” Khonsu said. “I'm sorry, Ptahemhat. The evidence against you is strong: you and Paser quarreled openly and now he's dead.” He looked sternly at the younger man and added, “And I need hardly remind you that you won't account for the time between your quarrel and the discovery of Paser's body.

Khonsu's expression and the condemnatory looks directed toward him struck Ptahemhat dumb for a moment. He found his voice as his captors forced his arms behind him. “But I didn't do it!” he cried. “The gods know I wish I had! I swear— Your Grace!”

“That'll be enough!” Nebamun exclaimed. “He is my subordinate and my responsibility! Unhand him at once!”

Khonsu's guards checked and looked from him to Nebamun.

Ptahemhat tore himself free, sending one of his would-be captors spinning into a platter of roasted meat. He vaulted the low tables with the rest of the guards hot on his heels, hurled himself at the Second Prophet's feet, knocking Perineb aside, and came to rest crouched against Nebamun's ankles, with his face pressed against the Second Prophet's leather sandals.

Lord Nebamun, thrown off balance, clutched at a nearby pillar to steady himself. The jolt made him blanch, but he caught up the overlap of his long kilt and cast it over Ptahemhat's shoulders just as the guards reached them both. A snap of his fingers brought five of his personal guard to his shoulder with drawn swords.

Khonsu shook his head at his guards. “Stand back,” he ordered.

Nebamun watched through narrowed eyes as Khonsu's men obeyed, and then said with a close approximation of his customary calm, “Why are you arresting him?”

“I have reason to suspect that he killed Paser, Your Grace,” Khonsu answered.

Perineb, who had picked himself up and moved safely out of reach from the fracas, stared.

“That's preposterous!” Nebamun said, white-lipped. “You yourself told me that Paser was killed in a fair fight!”

“No, Your Grace,” said Seti. “While we haven't ruled out the possibility that it was a fair fight, we don't know for certain. With the quarrel between the two of them, any fight must be suspect. I'm sorry.”

Ptahemhat raised frantic, dilated eyes to Nebamun. “I didn't do it!” he said again. “I swear by Ptah himself I did not! How could I possibly—”

Nebamun skewered Seti with a look. “This man never murdered anyone in his life!”

“Your Grace,” Khonsu began. “Our information shows that—”

“Your “information' has misled you!” Nebamun snapped. “You are arresting an innocent man!”

“Forgive me, Your Grace,” said Khonsu. “My investigation shows otherwise. He rejoiced to learn that 'such a scoundrel is finally sent out of this world'. Most of us heard him. He refuses to account for his actions during the time that Paser was probably killed, and now he plans to depart for Memphis. How are we to take that? I'm sorry, Your Grace. I have no choice but to detain him.” He paused and then added, “I deeply regret the scene, but I'm within my authority. My duty to the rest of the people here doesn't permit me to do otherwise. He won't be harmed.”

Ptahemhat had been listening with dwindling hope. He raised himself a little and buried his forehead against Nebamun's knees.

The Second Prophet's frown became a scowl. “What will you do with him?” he demanded.

“He'll be questioned and, if I think it justified, sent to the Nomarch's court for trial, Your Grace,” Khonsu replied.

“I see,” said Nebamun. He thought swiftly and then said, “Ptahemhat and Paser were both with the temple of Ptah. The matter would most properly come under Ptah's jurisdiction in the person of the High Priest.”

“It would, Your Grace, if it were anything other than murder,” said Khonsu. “But murder is Pharaoh's proper concern, and Count Tothotep is Pharaoh's representative in this province. I am required to detain Ptahemhat for trial before Count Tothotep.”

Perineb said, “We'd best let him go with them, Your Grace. If he's innocent—as I'm sure he is—we can surely clear him.”

Ptahemhat, watching his hope of protection dwindle, shivered. “I didn't kill Paser!” he said again. “You must believe me, Your Grace!”

“Then tell me where you were when he was killed,” Khonsu said.

Nebamun looked from Khonsu to Ptahemhat. “He's within his rights,” he said quietly. “Tell him, Ptahu: what were you doing that night?”

“I can't say, Your Grace. I know it looks bad, but I never killed Paser!” He stared at Nebamun's shuttered expression and cried, “By all the gods—! You know I'd never lie to you!”

Nebamun's hands had unconsciously clenched into fists. He looked down at them as though he were seeing them for the first time. He slowly opened them and then spoke to Ptahemhat. “I believe you, Ptahu,” he said. His voice lowered and he added, “But I have no power to help you at this moment.”

The words sank into complete silence.

Ptahemhat raised his head and stared despairingly up at Nebamun.

Seti, gazing across at Nebamun, shifted his stance.

Khonsu cast a quick glance around at the doors to the dining hall, where his men had gathered, and then looked full at Nebamun. His men outnumbered The Second Prophet's guard's by three to one, and a contest between them had only one logical ending, but he found that his imagination did not stretch to the point of envisioning him overpowering His Grace.

Lord Nebamun stood where he was, oblivious to the stares directed at him, his eyes focused before him as though he were gazing into a landscape that no one else could see. His expression concentrated, lightened, and finally shifted to a thoughtful frown.

He looked down at Ptahemhat, who was still clinging to him. “Will you be guided by me, Ptahu?” he asked.

Ptahemhat nodded.

“Then here's what I advise. Let go of me, stand up, and go with them wherever they take you.”

“But I'm innocent!”

“I know it,” said Nebamun. “You won't suffer any harm because of this mistake. But go quietly with them now, and don't do anything that might harm yourself or anyone else. You'll be free within the turn of the moon; perhaps sooner.”

“It may take longer than that if he's to be brought to trial, Your Grace,” Khonsu protested.

“I have spoken and you have heard me,” said Lord Nebamun. “And you will see shortly that I didn't speak amiss.” He turned back to Ptahemhat. “You will be released, I promise you. Now will you promise to do as I have bid you?”

Ptahemhat climbed slowly to his feet. “Yes, Your Grace,” he said.

“You won't resist them?” Nebamun persisted as Khonsu's two guards stepped forward again to take hold of him.

Ptahemhat did not take his eyes from Nebamun's. “I won't, Your Grace,” he said.

“And you'll remain where you're placed until you are released?”

“Y—” Ptahemhat paused, eyeing the two guards as they looped a length of cord about his wrist.

“Listen to me,” said Nebamun. “If you'll trust me and do as I have said, your name will be cleared and there will be no stain upon you. But if you run away now, you'll never be able to stop running. Promise me.”

Ptahemhat's eyes lowered. “Yes, Your Grace,” he said. “I won't try to escape. I promise.” He added desperately, “But I don't understand how—”

“Don't ask questions I can't answer,” Nebamun said.

The words seemed to ease Ptahemhat's fears, though Khonsu found nothing reassuring in them. The young man straightened and even smiled.

Nebamun turned to the guards. “The two of you can put those ropes away. There's no need to bind him. He has given his word not to resist you or try to escape.”

The guards bowed and then moved to flank Ptahemhat. At a nod from Khonsu, they left the room with him. Ptahemhat hung back at the doorway to look back at Nebamun with frantic, anguished hope before he lowered his head and went with them.

Lord Nebamun absently smoothed the crumpled hem of his long tunic as he watched them leave. His eyes were shuttered and his gaze remote as he turned back toward his table, sat down and took up the portion of meat before him. After another moment he drew a deep breath and rose again.

“Carry on as you are,” he said. “I must leave now. I have a lot to think about.” He nodded toward Rai. “You are in command of the guard now,” he said.

He looked over at Khonsu. “The royal messenger, Rahu, is due here tomorrow morning or the next day,” he said. “Bring him to me as soon as he arrives.”

“At once, Your Grace,” said Khonsu.