The City of Refuge: Book 1 of The Memphis Cycle (27 page)

XLIII

A glow at the opening between the Northern Sentinels slowly resolved itself into the great, silver disk of the moon. It moved perceptibly higher into the night sky, bathing the countryside with silent light and sending a tide of silver cascading across the bare stone floor of the loggia to lap at the papyrus-shod feet of Lord Nebamun, who was seated between the two pillars and gazing eastward. The light picked out the rough texture of a closed basket lying beside him and turned the calm cast of his features to the monumental silence and immobility of a granite statue.

Nebamun was sipping wine from a plain pottery cup. He drank deeply, closed his eyes for a moment, and raised his face to the glow of the moon before he opened his eyes once more and touched the basket with one toe, making it shift and rustle with the motion.

The sound made his eyes open completely. “Ah, Father,” he sighed, running an unsteady fingertip around the edge of his cup. He raised his cup and sipped again, staring up at the stars through a blur of tears. “If only you could have known before you died... If only I could have told you face to face that night...”

“All is well, Neb-Aten!” said a cheery voice behind him. “There's no need to worry! No shame will come upon anyone, least of all upon you!”

He dropped the cup, half-rising, and started to turn. The voice was so brisk and cheerful, the message so welcome. Could it be—

“I beg your pardon, Lord Neb-Amun!” said Seti, stepping forward from the steps and bowing. “It's been a long day, and I misspoke. Forgive me!”

Nebamun's eyes narrowed as he sank back in his chair. He toed the shards of pottery aside and looked beyond Seti to Khonsu, who was standing just beyond him and gazing at him with eyes that suddenly seemed to see everything.

“I'm sorry to come so late, Your Grace,” said Khonsu, his expression blooming into a warm, happy smile. “We have news about Paser's death that has some bearing on your situation.”

“What news is that, Commander?” Nebamun asked. He was shaken: it showed in the rigidity of his posture just before he mastered himself and sat back with an ironic smile.

Seti stepped forward. “We followed the pathway north to the tombs, Your Grace. We found some interesting things.”

“I am happy to hear it,” said Nebamun, looking from Seti to Khonsu. “But what has this to do with Paser or with me?”

“It has a great deal to do with Your Grace,' Khonsu said. “We have just returned from the cliff area north of the city. Ptahemhat told me Paser often went that way. General Seti and I traced his steps and we found the tomb of Nakht, who had been vizier for Pharaoh Akhenaten.”

A hastily suppressed movement from Nebamun made Khonsu pause.

The Second Prophet collected himself, squared his shoulders, and gazed across at Khonsu. “Please continue, Commander.”

“We found the tomb of the Vizier Nakht, son of Prince Ahmose. In that tomb we found a depiction of Nakht along with his wife, the Princess Merit'taui and his son, Neb-Aten. Neb-Aten, son of Nakht, son of Ahmose. We also found other items that clarified a great deal confused us before.”

Nebamun's pose was rigid once more. “This has nothing to interest me.”

“I believe it does, Your Grace,” said Seti. “It sheds light on how Paser met his end.”

“Ptah's beard!” Nebamun exclaimed through his teeth. “I told you I killed him! How much light do you need to illuminate what I have clearly stated?”

“But you refused to say where, how or why,” Khonsu pointed out. “Now we have the answers you couldn't give. And they make a good deal of sense. Who can blame a dutiful son for defending his father's burial against tomb-robbers?”

“This has nothing to do with Paser or with me!” Nebamun repeated angrily. “You are meddling with matters that don't concern you!”

“He was robbing your father's tomb,” Khonsu continued. “You took steps to stop him—”

“This is pure conjecture!”

“—he drew his knife, you fought him—”

“Stop it!”

“—and were wounded. If you open your tunic at this moment, we will see the marks of it.”

Nebamun's hand was at his shoulder; it clenched and then lowered.

“Show us, Your Grace,” Seti said. “If there's no mark, then we'll leave.”

“Your Grace said you crushed Paser's skull with a heavy, blunt weapon,” Khonsu said. “We found just such a weapon in Prince Nakht's tomb.” He added quietly, “And there was blood on it. If Your Grace will only confirm—”

“No,” said Nebamun. “I can confirm nothing.”

“Your Grace—”

“I have told you all that I am permitted to tell you,. There is nothing more to say. I surrendered myself and I asked no leniency. My testimony must stop there.”

Khonsu traded gazes with Seti and then said gently, “Please, Your Grace: be fair to yourself. It can serve no purpose for you to ruin yourself when it's obvious to anyone who has dealt with you that you aren't a criminal. Now we know what has happened, and there's no further need to pretend.”

Nebamun pushed himself to his feet, strode to the edge of the loggia, turned, and glared back at them. The moon, hanging behind his left shoulder like a silver shield, outlined the tense, braced set of jaw and arm, the racing pulse beating at the side of his throat. He spoke through his teeth, “I can give you no further explanation, whatever you think of me!”

Seti had been watching with narrowed eyes. He sat back and spoke softly, each word coming, coldly, like beads being threaded onto a thin chain to form a necklace. “We don't ask for an explanation,” he said. “We know now.”

Khonsu laid a hand on Seti's arm and shook his head. Seti's expression grew grim.

Nebamun turned away from them and stood motionless, gazing toward the Northern Sentinels. “I haven't concealed what I did, nor have I whined for pity.” He turned back. “All I ask is that you leave me to suffer whatever I must for what I have done, and let me keep silence about it! Now leave me!

Seti drew a deep breath and then nodded. “So be it,” he said. “We will ask you nothing further. What we saw this night means nothing, for—correct me if I'm mistaken, Your Grace—you maintain you are not the son and only child of Nakht, who was vizier under Akhenaten, and who died in this house.”

“Stop it!” Khonsu hissed, eyeing Nebamun's suddenly clenched fists.

Seti did not turn his eyes from Nebamun as he continued, “And you have no reason to love the memory of a man who was, after all—” Seti's eyes narrowed as he gauged the possible reaction to his next words. “—judged to be a criminal and removed from power.”

“You have said too much!” Khonsu exclaimed.

Nebamun's eyes narrowed. “You mannerless whelp!” he said through his teeth. “My pedigree is known to those whose concern it is, and no shame of mine can ever touch my sires! You have said what you came to say. Get out of my sight!”

Seti had not changed his stance except to fold his arms. He bowed low to Nebamun. “Whatever else can be said against Your Grace, you don't lack courage!” he said with the flash of a smile.

“
Get out!
”

Khonsu flung Seti a look of annoyance as he went to his knees before Nebamun and caught the Second Prophet's hand between his own. “Please, Your Grace,” he said.

Nebamun, caught in an exchange of glares with Seti, started at the sound of Khonsu's voice. “You!” he snapped, pulling his hand away. “Leave!”

Khonsu lowered his head. “Please, Your Grace,” he said again. “Let me explain!”

“It is late and I am tired!” Nebamun said through his teeth. “Go!”

Khonsu remained where he was. “Please let me explain,” he said again. “I beg you! As the father of a little girl whom you have helped through the kindness of your heart. Please, hear me out for her sake.”

Nebamun's frown faded a little as he stared at Khonsu. He drew an uneven breath. “All right, Commander,” he said at last. “I'll listen to you for your daughter's sake. And get to your feet: I have told you before not to kneel to me.”

Khonsu obeyed, gathering his thoughts as he rose. “I heard a story that might interest Your Grace.” he said. “It was about a great lord, the first in the realm after Pharaoh. He was an upright man who fell from power after that king's reign through the connivance of his enemies. He took his own life in order to protect his wife and son from the hatred directed against him.

“The son went under the protection of a powerful prince. His name was changed in order to purge any mention of the old god that the former king had served. He rose high in the service of the prince, married his daughter and in time became his heir. But though he loved the prince, the man never forgot his father, and did him reverence in his heart.

“The day came that this man, entrusted by Pharaoh with a mission, went to the city where his father had lived and died. While he was there, the son saw one whom he had trusted holding in his hand something that could only have come from his father's tomb. He went to his father's tomb and discovered it had been robbed.”

Khonsu's gaze became intent. “He understood, then, what had happened. He laid a trap and caught the other robbing the tomb. They spoke together, and the other, corrupted by the thought of treasure, attacked and wounded him.”

He paused when Nebamun made a slight motion, but when the Second Prophet remained silent, he continued. “The son took up a weapon that was in the tomb, fought his enemy, and killed him. And then, wounded himself, he carried the other's body from the tomb, for they had once been friends.”

Khonsu smiled at Nebamun and said, “I should have told you that the other man, the robber, had a wife and a child. The son knew these two, and he loved the child almost as a daughter. He didn't want the child to grieve for a father who had been killed and would not be buried, so he brought the body to a place where it could be found.

“No murder had been committed, and so he said nothing, but when he saw that another would be blamed for the death, he came forward and admitted the killing. But he would not say how or why it happened, for he didn't want the child to go through life burdened with the disgrace of her father. So he held his peace in order to protect the child.”

Khonsu paused as Nebamun, silent and thoughtful turned, located his chair, and sat. When the Second Prophet did not speak he added softly, “He was, you see, a generous and kind man, one who would spend his own wealth on scribes and messengers without a moment's hesitation in order to ease the heart of one who, though a stranger, was a father whose daughter was sickly, and who was pining for news of her.”

Nebamun had been listening in silence with his eyes on the toes of his sandals. When Khonsu stopped speaking he looked up and said, quietly, “Why have you told me this story, Commander? And what has it to do with me?”

“I don't know,” Khonsu admitted. “Fatigue, maybe. It's been a long day and I sometimes get foolish when I'm tired. We came to tell you we have discovered how Paser died. We went up into the northern cliffs and found a fall of rock, and blood nearby. Paser must have been caught in the fall, and his head broken by a smooth, heavy stone. Someone must have found him and brought him to where he would be found by his people. Nomads often pass this way. They probably were afraid that they'd be blamed for this accidental death. There was no murder, Your Grace, and no need to look for a murderer. Paser's body can be returned to his wife and daughter and given honorable burial. And as for Your Grace–”

Khonsu looked down at his hands. “Sennefer tells me you're recovering from a bout of grippe. I'm glad to hear it is resolving itself, and you'll be able to return to your quarters tomorrow, perhaps. It'll make me happy, for I have missed Your Grace. And,” he added, “My little Sherit has sent a message for you personally.”

XLIV

“Pour some more for yourself, Commander,” said Seti, “And while you're at it you can fill my cup, too. I need the drink, and you have certainly earned your share with this night's work!”

They were sitting side by side on a portion of the palace's enclosure wall. They had a good view of the grounds, and no one could approach without being seen. It was late; the moon was riding high in the heavens, and the eastern sky was growing light with the approaching dawn. A flask of date wine sat between them, and Khonsu had commandeered some honey cakes from the kitchen.

Khonsu poured from the flask, took another gulp of the liquor, and drew a cautious breath as the fiery spirits tore their way down his throat. “Well,” he said, “that's that. He's cleared and I don't need to worry about embroiling him in a scandal that might lead to his disgrace and downfall.”

Seti cocked a skeptical eye at him. “I'm not sure that anyone
can
engineer that one's downfall,” he said. “By birth—think of it, Commander!—he's the only prince of the blood remaining in this land aside from Prince Thutmose. On both sides he traces his descent directly back to the princes of Thebes who threw my ancestors out of this land!” He added with a wry smile, “It's no wonder he said, the first night he was at Nakht's house, that he felt as though he were in his home!”

“Oh yes,” Khonsu said thoughtfully. “We know who he is, and what he did as far as Paser's concerned. But we don't know why he is what he is.”

“What do you mean by that?” Seti asked.

Khonsu drew one knee up and balanced himself on the edge of the wall. “I mean why he's Lord Nebamun, who is silent about his sires,” he said. “I mean why he has no past that anyone knows of. He insists Neb-Aten is dead. And even though he didn't deny what we said tonight, he never confirmed it, either. He was fostered in this palace by the Lord of the Two Lands, and yet he speaks as though he has never been here before! Do you remember how he said there were things he was not permitted to discuss. Permitted, General–”

“Seti.”

“Seti, then. And you know my name. But the thing is that he's under some sort of constraint, and he can't move outside it.”

“Hm,” Seti said. “The question that comes to my mind is whether the word is properly 'can't' or 'won't'. Whatever it is, I would trust him with my life and with my honor.”

“And so would I, very gladly,” Khonsu said. “But still, His Grace's path from Akhet-Aten to the present is surrounded by mystery, and I can't help thinking it has something to do with matters of state.”

“That may be,” Seti said thoughtfully. “But couldn't he at least explain how he killed Paser? I can't imagine that was one of the things he could not discuss. There was no need to mention his father's name at all! He only needed to say that he had suspected the way Paser had obtained that silver cup, checked it out, encountered Paser in a tomb and killed him in order to stop his looting.” He considered and then added, “Although I have yet to hear an explanation for Paser's broken hand that makes any sense.”

“I'm not sure we'll ever know,” said Khonsu, “But I suddenly thought he might be protecting someone, and once I realized that, I knew who it was.”

“You know more than I do, then,” said Seti.

Khonsu frowned at the liquor in his cup. “Paser's wife had been Lady Mayet's handmaid. She and Paser have a daughter. Both he and Lord Nebamun told me. The daughter was treated like one of Nebamun's children. His Grace loves that child, and he told me she was badly hurt by the way jealousy changed Paser's personality. From something His Grace said, I suspect Paser had begun to abuse them at home.”

Seti swore.

“Yes,” said Khonsu. “That's why Lord Nebamun allowed Paser to stay with this group. He told me he hoped to protect Paser's family while he found a solution. I suspect that after Paser was killed, His Grace judged that the girl had suffered enough pain and shame from her father without having to bear the additional hardship of knowing that her father was a thief.”

Seti nodded. “I didn't know,” he said. “And yet… Khonsu, do you think His Grace would really have gone down to disgrace and possibly death in order to protect that child?”

“I believe he would have if he thought it necessary,” Khonsu said. “But I don't think he intended to let matters go that far.”

Seti considered this and then said, “Maybe.” He paused and then added, “Probably, for he kept saying all would be well. He could have asked my father to intercede in his behalf. The two were great friends, and I realize now that my father knows everything. But you can't tell me he foresaw our intervention.”

“Whether he foresaw it, he certainly didn't want it,” Khonsu said. “You saw how furious he was tonight. “Meddling' is how he described it. No, he has something else waiting for us. I'm not sure what it is, but I'll wager we'll find out shortly.”

**   **   **

Lord Nebamun summoned the Master Physician Sennefer to him the next morning, was examined and pronounced in excellent health and capable of resuming his duties as the head of the royal expedition. He returned to the palace, accepted everyone's greetings with aplomb, and announced that the actions taken by Perineb during his convalescence had his full approval.

That afternoon Neferhotep, the priest from Sumneh, arrived at Akhet-Aten accompanied by his niece and her parents. They spoke with Khonsu and then were closeted with His Grace and Ptahemhat for some time. They were smiling and happy when they finally left, and Ptahemhat was given permission to leave for Memphis the next morning.

Khonsu applied himself to his duties with a lighter heart than he had had in almost a week. The cloud that had overhung Nebamun had darkened his own peace of mind as well. But now all was well once more; the group at Akhet-Aten released their collective breaths and returned to their comfortable daily activities with the odd feeling of having been granted a reprieve.

**   **   **

The messenger reached the guard post at Akhet-Aten's southern gateway mid-morning. He had ridden north along the Nile; the glitter of the sun upon his horse's glossy coat and the gold ornaments of his rank blended with the flash of the river under the morning sun, making him seem to appear from the river itself. The man, mounted on a tall bay stallion with fiery eyes, drew rein before the post and gazed down at the three men who, running out to intercept him, now stood staring at the golden plaque at his breast with the throne and personal names of Pharaoh inlaid in finest silver.

“I am charged by the Lord of the Two Lands—may he live, flourish and prosper!—to give a message and a command to Khonsu of Khemnu,” said the messenger. “And I am further charged to carry his response back to the Son of Re without delay.” He added with a flash of even, white teeth, “Let me be brought into his presence at once so that I may fulfill my charge.”

**   **   **

Khonsu was composing his weekly report and swearing under his breath when Karoya brought him word of the messenger's arrival.

“He wants to see you right away, Chief,” said Karoya. “And he asked that General Seti be present as well.”

“Did he give his name?” asked Khonsu.

“He calls himself Achtoy, Chief. And he says that he's an officer in His Majesty's personal guard. From his Gold of Honor, he's a high-ranking one, and his horse was a beauty. Pharaoh's message must be urgent.”

“Pharaoh's message?” Khonsu repeated blankly as Karoya retrieved the reed brush that he had just dropped on the floor and handed it to him.

**   **   **

These are the words of the King of Upper and Lower Egypt, the Horus Djeser-Khepru-Re Horemheb, given life, like Re, forever, may he live, prosper and flourish! All that Nebamun son of Nakht son of Ahmose has done until this day has been with my approval and at my command. All that Nebamun son of Nakht son of Ahmose will do from this day will be with my permission and at my direction. Let Lord Nebamun be obeyed as one who acts with the power and approval of Pharaoh. Thus speaks the Lord of the Two Lands; so let it be done.

Khonsu lowered the message and wordlessly handed it to Seti, who eyed it, started, scanned it intently, and then looked up at the messenger. “Please send my submission to His Majesty, Lord Achtoy,” he said. “And assure the Lord of the Two Lands that I will obey his commands to the best of my ability.”

The messenger, Achtoy, inclined his head. “His Majesty directs me to say that he has heard a great deal about the ability and intelligence of Commander Khonsu of Khemnu,” he said. “His Majesty has ordered me to tell the Commander that he has full confidence in the Commander's courage and discretion. His Majesty also sends his greetings to General Seti. And now, let me be brought to His Grace, for I am charged with other messages from His Majesty.”

After the man had left, Khonsu turned to Seti. “Lord Achtoy,” he said. “Nothing less than a hero of Egypt and a Commander of Five Thousand, sent to carry a message all the way north from Thebes to a wrecked city in order to tell us to leave His Grace alone.”

“Incredible,” Seti agreed. “And in His Majesty's own hand. Well, now we know what His Grace had waiting for us.”