by N. L. Holmes
Hani clasped his hand, feeling the powerful grip that was belied by the soft face and clear, gentle eyes. “My condolences, master. I visited your workshop as soon as I got back to the capital, but you weren’t there. I wanted to tell you how sorry I am about Kha-em-sekhem. Your daughter seems genuinely sad about his passing to the West.”
“She still loved him—just couldn’t live with him. We’ve lost a great sculptor, my lord.” Djehuty-mes’s eyebrows drooped in sorrow.
“I’m sure of that.” Hani paused, wondering if it were too callous to probe the artisan for information about his deceased son-in-law. Finally, he said, “When was it he did the study of Lady Kiya? Do you remember?”
Djehuty-mes cocked his head and cupped a hand at his ear, and Hani repeated his question.
The sculptor scratched his head through the scarf that covered it. “I think about a year ago, after we’d done the king and queen and their older children. Why?”
“Just curious. Did he do the queen as well?”
To Hani’s surprise, Djehuty-mes grinned and said, “No, I did.”
“To protect him from himself?” Hani asked, sharing the grin in the knowing way of one who understood the charms of the queen.
“No, Hani. Because if anyone ever remembers me, it will be because of that face. Her statue will be my masterwork.”
Hani clapped the sculptor on his massive shoulder, wished him well in his labors, and set off across the courtyard to the pylons that marked the boundary of the palace. He left the royal precinct by the gates through the bridge—the first time, and he hoped the last, that he ever traveled that trajectory. Hani set off down the processional street between the leonine likenesses of the king, uneasy and unable to wash from his mind the image of the queen’s body swelling beneath the gauzy folds of her gown. She’d aimed it at him like an arrow. Despite his diplomatic evasions, she knew Kiya had told him about the sculptor, and she was warning him to back away from any investigation. She’d even, he thought, offered him a chance to spy for her.
He didn’t know what all this meant for him or whether he should abandon the Beloved Royal Wife’s cause. He wanted nothing to do with these battles for the king’s favor. He wanted—if the gods cared to know—to live quietly, tend his garden, feed his birds, and enjoy his family. He wanted the king and his wives to forget about his very existence.
Hani trudged down the processional street toward the south, lost in thought. At first, he didn’t quite interpret a familiar voice crying, “Lord Hani! Lord Hani!”
Hani looked up, snapping back into the present moment. Maya was waving at him from a distance, then the secretary started to run toward him with his clumsy stubby-legged gait. Suddenly Hani was alarmed, his heart in his throat. What’s the boy doing here? Is something wrong at home?
He broke into a run himself, and the two of them met, panting. “What is it, Maya? Is there—”
“My lord,” the secretary gasped, “Lady Nub-nefer wanted me to come after you. I left the same afternoon you did, on the Feast of Drunkenness. It took me this long to get here.” He stopped to drink in a big lungful of air. “There’s been a riot in Waset.”
Hani’s heart seemed to stop. “Is the family all right?”
“Yes, but the gate was damaged. Part of the garden caught fire. The crowds attacked many of the big houses, believing, I guess, that they belonged to henchmen of the king.”
“In Waset? Priests, more likely.”
“Believe me, they weren’t thinking that clearly. They were mean drunk and spoiling for a fight. I don’t know who put them up to it, but there are plenty of people reduced to poverty there by the closing of the temples and the moving of the government, and they only needed a spark to set them off. They just wanted to take revenge on someone. It was pretty violent, my lord. A lot of houses burned down, a lot of girls raped, a lot of heads broken. Royal troops were sent in, in addition to the medjay.”
Hani remembered the military boat they’d seen passing soon after they’d sailed. “How did you get out?” he cried. “You left the women there alone?” His breathing was still labored and not just from the exertion. “You left them?”
“Easy, my lord.” Maya looked scared. “Lord Mery-ra told me to go. He and the servants and Pa-kiki and the three Amurrites were mounting a defense, like the last time this happened. My mother was even there. She came early on because she didn’t feel safe at home—all the workmen were among the crowd.”
Hani forced himself to calm down. A little damage to the garden was nothing if the family was safe. “No one hurt, then? You and Sat-hut-haru were at our house?” He already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear the reassuring words.
Maya nodded. “My lord, your wife begs you to come home as soon as you can. She was badly upset by the events. She was afraid you and Neferet and your brother and niece hadn’t found a boat and were trapped at the docks. There’ll have to be repairs made to the gate, and... well, she needs you at her side.”
“I’ve finished what I had to do here, Maya. Come with me to Lord Ptah-mes’s so I can pick up my things, and we’ll head straight back.”
“I went there first. He told me where you were.” The two men had begun to walk purposefully. Hani said under his breath, “I had an interview with the Great Queen.”
Maya’s eyes grew wide. “Did she admit to anything?”
Hani expelled a breath that he felt as if he’d been holding ever since he emerged from the audience hall. “She’s the blackmailer, all right. She subtly told me to let Kiya alone and even—I think—urged me to work for her.”
“And if you don’t accept that urging?”
Hani raised a cynical eyebrow. “She’s too canny to resort to open threats. But the only limit to her power is the desire that the king not find out about this rivalry. She asked me if Kiya were pregnant.”
“What did you tell her, my lord?”
“That I’d be unlikely to know.” Hani snorted at his own dishonesty. “Oh, and I saw Mane this morning. He’s pressuring me to get in touch with our girl again. Says she’s anxious to hear what I’ve found out. I feel like a frog being pulled in two by a pair of herons who both want to eat me.”
They strode on, Maya struggling to keep up without breaking into a trot. The day was beating down now, the sun on their backs like a blanket of sheepskin in that broad street with no shade. When his stomach growled, Hani realized it must be midday. They swung through the market and picked up some flatbreads, which they rolled around chickpeas and pickled vegetables and ate as they walked. By the time they reached Ptah-mes’s villa by the River, they had brushed the last of the crumbs from their chests.
Hani led the way rapidly through the vestibule and was preparing to cross the salon when he saw Lord Ptah-mes sitting by himself, eating lunch at a small elegantly set table. The commissioner looked up. “Ah, Hani,” he said pleasantly. “I see your secretary found you.”
“He did, my lord. Thank you for directing him my way. I’m afraid my presence is required in Waset. It seems there were riots. A lot of damage was done, including some to my property.”
Ptah-mes rose, looking grave. “I suspected that was coming. I haven’t heard whether my place suffered any assault.”
“I’d be happy to check and send you word.”
“That’s kind of you, my friend, but if there’s been damage, one of the servants will let me know Can I offer you gentlemen some lunch?”
“I thank you, my lord, but I’m looking to catch one of the next ferries out. Your hospitality is appreciated, as always.”
“Think nothing of it, Hani.”
Ptah-mes had to be itching to hear about the meeting with the queen, but he gave no indication whatsoever, just nodded courteously to the two men, who swept off to Hani’s room. When they passed through the salon again a few moments later, Ptah-mes had left.
⸎
When Hani and Maya finally reached Hani’s home, they found the doors of the gate dismounted and the painted
stone lintel blackened with smoke. From within the wall came the sounds of sawing and hammering. Hani stuck his head through the opening, and A’a popped up before him.
“Ah, my lord. Look at what happened to us,” the old gatekeeper cried, indicating the doorway in disarray.
“Maya told me. It sounds like it was a bad night.” Hani stared around him at the trees with blackened branches, the heat-shriveled bushes, and the sooty ash staining the graveled walk. Fortunately, the damage seemed to have been contained within a small area. He and Maya picked their way past the carpenters at work building a new pair of doors for the gate and set off down the ash-strewn path. Before they’d reached the house, Nub-nefer came running to meet him, Sat-hut-haru at her heels.
“Oh, Hani, thanks be to the Protector of Travelers you’re all right! We were so worried to think you and Neferet were out in that crowd, maybe looking in vain for a ferry.” She threw herself at Hani, and he enfolded her in his arms. “She is safe, isn’t she?”
“Safe and sound, my dearest. We ran into Lord Ptah-mes and his wife, who were preparing to set sail in their yacht, and they kindly invited all of us aboard. Lady Apeny even took Pipi and Mut-nodjmet on to Men-nefer.”
“Thanks be to the Hidden One. She’s such a wonderful lady.”
“Yes.” Hani thought of the painful chill between Apeny and her husband—yet they were both uncommonly good people. “Djefat-nebty complimented Neferet on her independent thinking.”
Nub-nefer looked skeptical. “She did? Well, that’s nice.” She dropped her eyes, and a smile twitched at her lips.
She’s proud in spite of herself.
Nub-nefer turned and indicated the garden around them, raising a suddenly distressed face to her husband. “Maya told you about the riots, Hani? It was terrible. The mayor of Waset refused to provide beer for the revelers—there’s no official support for the festival at all anymore, of course—and that touched them off. They’d certainly gotten drunk on something. What must those guests of yours think of the Two Lands? Aziru and his party got back from their trip loaded with game just before the trouble started. Fortunately, Maya and Sat-hut-haru and his mother had come over. They didn’t feel safe at home. So at least we had a houseful of warriors to hold back those people.”
“My dear, ‘those people’ are people like us, who long for the restoration of the Ipet-isut,” he said quietly at her ear.
“Maybe. But I think there were troublemakers among them. Someone could be exploiting the dissatisfaction for his own ends.”
Hani had to admit she could be right. But that smacked of royal politics, and he had no desire even to think about it.
Nub-nefer said in a determined voice, “I want to take Baket-iset down to the country place, my love. I don’t feel safe in the city anymore. And besides, I don’t like the attention that Amurrite is paying to her.”
“He’s a prince, my dove. We should be flattered,” Hani replied with a smile. “But I take your point. Let me go down and see to setting things up for you. I need to inventory the cattle and grain supplies so I’ll know what we can liquidate for Pipi anyway.” He gave her a squeeze around the shoulders. “Maybe we should have done this from the start—just turned the house over to the visitors.” Somehow, he’d have to stay abreast of their correspondence. He’d have one of the servants bring it down as soon as the diplomatic pouch arrived.
“And you won’t believe what’s hanging in the cellar. Your friends had just walked in the door with this... this enormous...” Nub-nefer burst out laughing and put her hands to her face, giddy with nerves. “It’s a bird as big as I am, Hani. And then the riot, and we didn’t have time even to pluck it. What are we going to do with it? I just want to get away!”
“They bagged an ostrich?” Hani laughed with her, but a childlike eagerness to see the thing arose in him. “Maybe the servants can dry it or salt it.”
“That’s what they’re going to do, as they’re able. But it will be so tough.” Tears of helpless laughter were coming out of her eyes. “Oh, Hani, my love. What a day! Oh, how glad I am you’re back.” She put her arms around him, and her sounds of hilarity turned suspiciously sob-like against his chest.
“The plumes will be worth a lot. We can exchange them against something more useful.”
“And those men were so proud of themselves. I just wanted to scream.” He could feel her shaking with wild weeping. “And then we sent Maya off, and no one was sure he got safely away, and poor Sat-hut-haru was crying and saying we’d killed him. It was so terrible, my love. I was so afraid for the girls.” She drew back, mopping her eyes with a fist. “In-hapy was a pillar of strength, though. I’m glad she was here.”
“Me, too, my dearest. That was a lot for you to carry alone.” He caressed her tear-streaked face with his hand. “It will be better in every way at the farm.”
“Hani, my boy! Thank the Traveler you’re back in one piece,” said Mery-ra from the doorway. “Nub-nefer’s told you about our adventure, eh? I just came back from Meryet-amen’s. Wanted to be sure everything was well at her place.” He toddled into the salon, arms spread.
Hani and his father embraced. “I wish we’d stayed here one more night. Not that my personal presence would have made you any safer, but at least we wouldn’t have had to worry about each other.” Hani had come to the topic he wanted to discuss but wasn’t sure how to ease into it. “I, uh, had an interview with the Great Queen.”
Nub-nefer’s eyes grew wide with anxiety. “Really? Is that good or bad?”
Mery-ra shot his son a narrow look. “Tell. Tell.”
“You men go talk. I have things to do. Giant birds to pluck.” Nub-nefer squeezed Hani’s hand and moved off toward the kitchen. Hani took his father’s arm and led him outside to the pavilion, where they seated themselves in the shade. A faint smell of burnt wood still lingered in the air.
“So, is she as beautiful close-up as she is from a distance?” Mery-ra asked.
“She’s extremely beautiful, although not in her first youth. I was surprised.”
“What—all of twenty-six, like the king?”
“Older, I should think, but maybe I’m wrong. She’s clearly a woman who has borne many children. Although somehow that added to her beauty, which is uncanny, I have to admit.” He could see her standing before him again, her spreading curves only too visible through the gauzy gown. “She knows how to use it too. I felt like a poor helpless bird in the presence of a snake.”
Mery-ra chuckled. “Maybe she doesn’t have anything to worry about from your little Mitannian.”
“You know, there’s something similar about them, although they don’t look alike. The long neck, the heavy-lidded eyes.”
“Well, of course,” Hani’s father said as if it were evident. “The king has a long neck and heavy-lidded eyes.”
“What? Are you saying men marry women who look like them?” Hani hooted. “Although I always thought you and Mother resembled each other. And Meryet-amen looks like you, too, actually.”
“You see? Pipi and Nedjem-ib.” Mery-ra sounded smug.
“Me and Nub-nefer? I’m flattered!”
“You’re the exceptions that prove the rule.”
“Lord Ptah-mes and Lady Apeny, I grant you. They could be brother and sister. But Amen-em-hut and Anuia? Sat-hut-haru and Maya?”
“Well, some men marry women who look like them,” Mery-ra allowed. “The better sort of men.” He grew a little red in the face as his argument crumbled under his feet.
Hani realized they’d drifted away from the thoroughly serious content of his interview. “The queen immediately asked about Kiya. She knew I’d visited her. She asked me if Kiya was pregnant.”
“How would you know?”
“That’s what I said.” Hani smiled dryly. “Although, in fact, Kiya told me she was. In so many words, Nefert-iti warned me not to frequent the Beloved Royal Wife. If I understood her, she invited me to spy for her instead.”
Mery-ra’s mirth had f
allen away. “Stay away from those women, son. No good can come from getting involved in any capacity with the king’s women.”
Hani emitted a humorless laugh. “The very same day, Mane sidled up to me and said Kiya wanted to know how things were going. She wants to see me again.”
“No, my boy, no. Avoid those women. Next time, the arrow may not go over your head.”
Hani heaved a sigh. “What worries me is that I already seem to be involved with them.”
He stood up and wandered to the edge of the pavilion, suddenly filled with tension that needed to be discharged. From the bushes, a silent gray-blue shadow approached. “Qenyt,” Hani said fondly. “There you are, my girl.” He dropped to his heels and stretched out his hand to the heron, who eyed him, considering, poised in midstep. Hani squatted there for a long space of time while the bird’s golden eye looked him up and down. Then Qenyt drifted away at a deliberate pace.
“She’s a model for you, son. ‘Have nothing to do with these humans.’”
Hani rose to his feet. “I’m going down to the farm tomorrow. I need to inventory the cattle and grain, see what we can offer Pipi. Do you want to come with me?”
“Sounds good. Nub-nefer wants to decamp down there with the girls. She said she didn’t fancy Sat-hut-haru giving birth in the midst of a riot.”
“I know,” Hani said. “That’s another thing I need to do—set things up for them. Get the servants to clean up the house, air the linen.”
“How appropriate.” Mery-ra stood up and joined his son at the edge of the porch. “On the Festival of Cloth.”
“Is it already that time of year?” Hani sighed. “The Ipet Festival should be coming up, but I guess we can be sure that won’t take place. The king doesn’t seem to want to receive a divine ka from the Lord Amen-Ra.”
Mery-ra grunted morosely. Then he brightened. “Have you seen that enormous thing hanging in your cellar?”
“No, but Nub-nefer told me about it. Your lady friend’s nephew carried out his duties as master of the hunt very well, it seems.”
“Yes. Your friend Aziru has been more cheerful than usual these last few days. A hunt, a battle—it’s enough to get a young man’s blood pumping. Now we just need to find him a girl.”
