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The Assassins of Isis

Page 9

by P. C. Doherty


  ‘Tell us what has happened!’ Lady Thena interrupted rather swiftly.

  Amerotke gave a short description of what had occurred, half listening to the beautiful song of a nightingale from the gardens beyond.

  ‘It’s not wild.’ Impuki smiled. ‘We keep the songster in a cage, hanging from a branch outside. Its call is so haunting, but … to business!’

  ‘First,’ Amerotke pushed his platter away; he wasn’t hungry, his stomach felt agitated, yet he had to be courteous, ‘the architect Sese, father of the Lady Nethba.’

  Impuki sighed. ‘Lord Amerotke, Sese was a man well past his sixtieth summer. He complained of deep pains in his stomach, sometimes he would vomit blood. He was an architect and worked in the quarries; sometimes these places can cause infections in the lungs, though this was not the case with Sese. The source of his sickness was his stomach. I examined him most carefully, here.’ Impuki used his hand to demonstrate. ‘Low on the left side I felt a large lump, some sort of abscess or tumour. I examined his anus and detected a similar lump just within the rectum. I considered all the signs. Sese was dying; basically his internal organs were rotting away. This was causing obstruction and bleeding. There was nothing I could do but use poppy juice to ease his final days.’

  ‘Yet the Lady Nethba claimed he was in good health?’

  ‘Go into the House of Twilight,’ Thena replied. ‘In our hospital you will find men and women who look healthier than anyone around this table, but their days are counted short. Some deaths are silent and swift. My husband is right. Sese died of a malignancy within, there was nothing we could do.’

  ‘He made a bequest to the temple?’

  Impuki threw his hands up in desperation. ‘My lord Amerotke, you are in one of the richest temples in Thebes. Walk round our gardens, visit our storehouses and granaries, the House of Silver, the House of Life; we do not need such contributions. Sese was grateful for the kindness and solace he received.’

  Amerotke nodded understandingly.

  ‘There’s much more important business.’ Paser rapped his nails on the table. ‘We can call on any physician in Thebes to confirm that Sese’s death was of natural causes and that he received the best attention from our physicians. Lord Amerotke, I am chamberlain of this temple, responsible for its day-to-day business. You are not only here because an old man died?’

  ‘No, not just that. The captain of your temple guard had his testicles and heart removed and was left to bleed to death. Captain Mafdet was a respected veteran, a high-ranking official in what you have described as the richest temple in Thebes. Who killed him and why? Secondly,’ Amerotke placed his cup on the table, ‘four of your temple girls have disappeared. Hesets, virgins dedicated to the Mother Goddess; these are the daughters of powerful merchants who have petitioned the Divine House about their fate. But let us begin with Captain Mafdet.’

  ‘He may well have been respected by the House of War,’ Paser replied angrily, ‘but Mafdet was also a thief and a charlatan.’

  ‘A thief?’

  ‘On a number of occasions we found items missing from the House of Potions, our dispensaries where medicines, either created here or imported from outside, are carefully stored. Some of these potions are very valuable; the juice of the poppy is one. On a number of occasions the Scribes of the Tally found jars disturbed, medicines stolen.’

  ‘And you blame Captain Mafdet?’

  ‘The thefts began shortly after his appointment a year ago.’

  ‘Did you like him?’

  ‘He was lazy and insolent,’ Impuki explained. ‘He liked to strut before the temple women, and sometimes he drank more beer than was good for him. He liked to boast that he’d once been a prominent member of Lord Rahimere’s retinue, until he recalled how that nobleman had fallen in disgrace. He hid behind the recommendation he’d received from General Omendap. He was, in fact, a lazy braggart. On the night he was murdered I had ordered him to take torches and search the temple grounds.’

  ‘For the hesets?’ Shufoy asked. ‘At the dead of night?’

  Impuki wiped his mouth on a napkin. ‘Over the last few months four temple girls have disappeared. The first vanished late in the afternoon; that was the last time anyone in the temple saw her. A few weeks later two more went missing, as if they had been spirited away. The final one disappeared in the middle of last month. Now, temple girls,’ Impuki gave a half-smile, ‘well, they differ, don’t they, from temple to temple? Some are dancing girls and suffer all the tribulations such a profession brings. The hesets of Isis are, however, vowed to virginity. They are daughters of the Great Mother, she who lives in eternal light. They come from good families and live a life of great comfort.’ He raised a hand. ‘Never once in the history of this temple has a sacred heset ever run away. Oh,’ he shrugged, ‘there have been scandals, but that is part of life: a beautiful young woman may catch the eye of a visiting soldier, priest or courtier.’

  ‘But they never run away?’

  ‘No, my lord Amerotke, they don’t! What has happened, and our records will prove this, is that temple girls have been raped, violated.’

  Lady Thena was now nodding in agreement.

  ‘In the reign of the Divine One’s father, shortly after he had returned from his war in Canaan, two army officers violated a temple maiden and were impaled alive on the cliffs above Thebes. But why should a girl run away? In this temple they are safe, pampered, looked after; it is the only life they know. Outside, well it would be like placing a baby gazelle amongst a pack of ravenous hyaenas. So you see, my lord Amerotke, I believe these girls are still here. May the Great Mother have mercy on us. They may have been killed, their bodies buried. The Temple of Isis is like a small city, with its extensive gardens and rich orchards; some places are rarely visited.’

  ‘Did you suspect Mafdet?’

  ‘Mafdet was a soldier,’ Impuki agreed. ‘He was not married but he liked the ladies. I know he visited the houses of pleasure. He liked nothing better than to strut like a cock in front of the temple girls.’

  ‘Were they friendly with him?’

  ‘He thought they were, but you are talking about young, immature women. Lady Thena is responsible for the temple virgins. On a number of occasions,’ Lady Thena nodded in agreement, ‘she had to have words with Mafdet about his attitude and manner.’

  ‘If you didn’t like him,’ Shufoy asked, ‘then who appointed him to the post?’

  ‘Little man,’ Impuki smiled, ‘you know the way of the world. As I’ve said, Mafdet was recommended by the House of War, by Generals Omendap and Suten. In these matters we have little choice but to keep the Divine One happy.’

  ‘Mafdet was strong,’ Amerotke mused. ‘He was used to violence. He liked his beer and the ladies. He also knew the temple grounds and precincts. Are you saying, Impuki, that he lured these girls to some assignation, raped and killed them, and buried their corpses in the temple gardens?’

  ‘It’s possible. The disappearances started after his arrival.’

  ‘So we come to the motive for his killing.’ Amerotke gestured at his three hosts. ‘You are hardly grieving.’

  ‘Lord Amerotke,’ Paser laughed, ‘to the faithful we may look devout, even holy, as we raise our hands amidst gusts of incense and pray to the Goddess. However, among my colleagues there are those I don’t like and there are those who don’t like me, yet it doesn’t mean we are going to commit murder.’

  ‘What happened the night Mafdet died?’

  ‘I met him,’ Impuki explained. ‘I had harsh words about his arrogance. He left and returned to his house, where he drank some beer—’

  ‘I understand,’ Amerotke interrupted, ‘poppy juice was mixed with that?’

  ‘Undoubtedly,’ Paser agreed. ‘Mafdet’s killer, once he was drugged, simply lashed his hands and feet and carried out that dreadful deed. On that night, Amerotke—and you may ask the temple guards and servants—Lord Impuki, Lady Thena and myself were here. We had worked late that day an
d had a great deal to prepare for the Feast of Jubilees. We retired in the early hours and never left this building. As I’ve said, you are free to ask the servants.’

  ‘And nothing suspicious was reported?’

  ‘If there was,’ Impuki replied, ‘we would have told you.’

  ‘These girls …’ Amerotke picked up a piece of meat and chewed it carefully. The wine was very good, filling his mouth with sweetness. Although the hour was late, he felt alert; he was glad to be here. This beautiful chamber with its oil lamps flickering, the fragrant wine and savoury food: such elegant opulence drove away those images of black-garbed figures swirling at him, or Sithia’s dying convulsions.

  ‘Four girls have disappeared.’ He glanced at Lady Thena. ‘I can talk to their friends?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘And none of them have reported anything untoward?’

  ‘Lord Amerotke, it was as if the girls had never existed. They were temple girls, being trained in the service of the Divine Mother. They loved gossip, they liked to sing and dance, perhaps flirt with priests or guards. They looked forward to the jubilees and festivals, visits from their relatives, then one day they were gone. Four girls disappearing over a space of five months.’

  ‘Have the temple precincts been searched?’ Shufoy asked.

  ‘As much as we can, but there are places where corpses could be secretly buried and lie for years undetected.’

  Amerotke cradled his cup and stared above their heads out of the window. The songbird had now fallen silent, and the only sound was the night wind moving amongst the trees. The smells which drifted in reminded him of his own garden: the mingling of fruit and flowers, the smell of freshly cut grass.

  ‘You talked about what happened in the Hall of Two Truths today, and you mentioned General Suten. According to the evidence, Suten was mingling poppy seed with his wine.’

  ‘General Suten,’ Lord Impuki replied, ‘was a good man, a war hero, a cunning, valiant commander. He was a man who could not escape from his fears, particularly the nightmares which had seized him out in the Red Lands. He often came and talked to me and I would give him advice. You see, Lord Judge, I can heal ailments of the body but not the mind. Sometimes General Suten lived in a world of shadows. He may have been very brave when captured by the Libyans, but the horror never left him. You do know that the charioteer who was captured with him later committed suicide, drowned himself in the Nile?’

  ‘And you prescribed juice or powder of the poppy for the general?’

  ‘I examined General Suten very carefully, I searched his body for any ailment. I asked him about his stools and his urine. A special physician in this temple, a guardian of the anus, examined him internally. We could find nothing wrong. Little man,’ he turned to Shufoy, ‘when you are happy, does your belly tingle?’

  ‘Aye,’ Shufoy growled, ‘and when I am in fear I belch like a trumpeter!’

  Impuki laughed. ‘Somehow the heart affects the belly; that was the case with General Suten.’

  ‘Did he talk about his household?’ Amerotke asked.

  ‘He was deeply in love with the Lady Lupherna, very pleased that he had good retainers like Heby and Menna. I gave him a pouch of powder so that General Suten could enjoy his food and sleep at night. He kept this as a secret from his household. I was horrified to hear the news. General Suten would often come here to look in our kha, the library.’ Impuki added, ‘Paser here is our Sieau, Chief Librarian.’

  ‘Why was that?’ Amerotke asked. ‘I mean, why your library?’

  ‘General Suten was very proud of his memoirs,’ Paser explained. ‘The Swallow squadron was part of the Isis regiment. The swallow is sacred to the Great Mother. We keep a temple history here, as do other temples; he often came to consult our books.’

  ‘Was he murdered?’ Lady Thena asked. ‘I heard rumours from those who attended court that those snakes were deliberately brought up, that General Suten was drugged. I wondered,’ she glanced quickly at her husband, ‘I wondered what really happened?’

  ‘What my wife means,’ Impuki hastened to explain, ‘is that on the few occasions General Suten came here, he talked about ridding himself of his nightmares. He wondered if he had a demon within him which should be exorcised.’

  Shufoy moved restlessly. He loved such talk and often wondered if he should become a uab sekhmit, an exorcist who drove out demons.

  ‘You believe in demons?’ Amerotke asked the High Priest.

  ‘I believe the soul, like the body, can collect ailments. One question General Suten did ask was if he underwent his nightmare again, if he purified himself, made offerings to the gods and entered a place of snakes …’ Impuki paused. ‘I have dealt with people who are terrified of open spaces or of being locked in a room. They cannot explain what happens: they feel panic, their insides turn to water, they sweat like an athlete who has run far and fast. Sometimes I give them a powder to sedate their hearts and take them into the place they fear.’

  Amerotke lowered his cup.

  ‘Are you saying that General Suten could have brought those snakes on to the roof terrace himself?’

  ‘His death is reported over all of Thebes. General Suten was well known; the gossip about what happened in your court today will be on everyone’s lips tonight. How the general was alone on his roof terrace, how the steps were guarded by his faithful retainer, and yet he died, bitten by the very creatures he so loathed. I do wonder if General Suten did try to confront his nightmare, like any true soldier would his enemy?’

  Amerotke stared back in disbelief. At first he dismissed the idea as preposterous. Yet if Impuki was correct, it would resolve the mystery.

  ‘But it doesn’t explain,’ Shufoy spoke up, ‘how the snakes got there in the first place: at least two dozen horned vipers! If General Suten had brought them up, someone would have seen them when the room was searched.’ He drank from his goblet. ‘He would certainly have been seen if he had tried to bring them up after the meal. Anway, if General Suten was responsible, why did he organise the search in the first place?’

  ‘According to his wife, he never told anyone about the powders,’ Impuki mused. ‘Perhaps, a man of routine, a typical soldier, General Suten did not want to rouse suspicion. Yet if he did bring them up,’ he added, ‘where did he get so many vicious snakes?’

  ‘He was a leading general,’ Amerotke replied. ‘He could call on the services of many old soldiers, swear them to silence …’

  Shufoy could see his master was already wondering. Amerotke was about to continue his questioning when the clash of cymbals, at first low and muted but then more strident and harsh, shattered the silence. On the breeze came the sound of shouting, of doors being opened and shut, the patter of running feet. Impuki, startled, put his cup down and went to the window. Amerotke caught it —the smell of burning. The door at the far end of the hall was flung open and a servant hurried in, gathering his robe about him.

  ‘My lord,’ he gasped, ‘there’s a fire over near the barracks, it is out of control.’

  Paser sprang to his feet, knocking over a table. They all hastened out into the gardens, their sweet fragrance marred by the stench of acrid smoke. Other people had also been roused as the clash of the cymbals was answered by the long wailing of conch horns. They hurried across a lawn, past garden beds and pavilions, through a pomegranate grove, its scarlet red flowers glowing in the eerie light. Birds fluttered in the branches above them. As they crossed the lawn, Amerotke glimpsed the shadows of tamed gazelles and ibex galloping away in fright. They went through a walled garden to where a range of buildings stood. One of these, set slightly apart, was a blazing inferno. Flames crackled through the windows and were already shooting through the flat roof, which collapsed with a roar as Amerotke and the rest reached the scene. Guards hurried up with buckets, and officers tried to organise a line so as to bring water from the various wells and fountains, yet their task was impossible. The fire had complete control. Impuki gave the order to
let the flames burn themselves out.

  ‘May the Great Mother protect us,’ Lady Thena whispered. ‘But that’s Mafdet’s house!’

  Amerotke walked closer to the conflagration. He had attended many fires, some of them accidental, others the work of assassins, and he sensed that this was no accident. A fire which started so quickly and burned so fiercely had to be deliberate.

  ‘The assassin did that, didn’t he?’ Shufoy, who had fallen behind, came up all breathless and slipped his hand into Amerotke’s, who squeezed it and looked affectionately down.

  ‘I can smell the oil from here.’ Paser stood behind them. ‘My lord Amerotke, that’s arson; whoever killed Mafdet wanted to finish what he started.’

  Or hide something, Amerotke reflected. He quietly cursed himself for not demanding that he search Mafdet’s house from top to bottom.

  ‘You will stay?’ Paser asked. ‘The hour is now late, it must be well after midnight.’

  ‘I will stay,’ Amerotke agreed.

  They stood for a while watching the fire burn down. Officers declared they were mystified at how the blaze had started, whilst the guards reported no strangers in the temple precincts. Amerotke, his eyes and mouth stung by the smoke, turned away. Impuki and the Lady Thena bade them goodnight, and Paser showed them to the guest house, an attractive, pleasant building standing in the far gardens of the temple. At the moment the guest house was vacant, and Paser said they should make it their home. It had eating quarters and a room below, whilst the chambers above were all prepared. Paser took them up the staircase and made sure they had everything they wanted. He said he would send servants with water, jugs of beer and wine, as well as fresh robes whilst the washerwomen of the temple cleaned theirs.

  Once Paser had left, Amerotke sat on a stool and gazed around. The walls were washed in a light green with a red frieze top and bottom, and decorated with knots of Isis and gleaming blue and gold wadjets. The beds were comfortable cots, protected by linen drapes against the cold night air and the myriad of flies which flitted through the shutters to dance above the oil lamps. Shufoy had an adjoining chamber, and was full of admiration at the intricately carved chests, stools and chairs.

 

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