Amerotke turned to where Omendap, along with other high-ranking military officers, squatted on cushions. The General looked distinctly nervous.
‘Mafdet was an evil being, a man with a dark soul and a twisted tongue. Unbeknown to the High Priest, he was also a member of a secret society called the Sebaus. The Sebaus were a canker, a blight which threatened to spoil the beauty and harmony of Thebes. In the ancient myths the word Sebaus means demons, and rightly so. Mafdet was one of them!’
‘I did not know that!’ General Omendap shouted, unable to control his anger. Hatusu raised one hand for silence and gestured to Amerotke to continue.
‘Mafdet was under instruction,’ Amerotke continued, ‘to kidnap four temple hesets, beautiful maidens of noble families who had been dedicated to serve the Mother Goddess. He enticed them away, young women, their minds easily turned. He invited them to a lonely part of the temple and offered them a drink, secretly drugged with potions from the House of Powders in the temple—’
‘We suspected this,’ Lord Impuki said quietly. ‘I mean,’ he added quickly, ‘that he had stolen the powders, but we thought he would sell them in the city. Only when you came to the temple, Lord Amerotke, was the real reason revealed.’
Hatusu made to silence him, but Senenmut whispered quickly to her. The Pharaoh’s First Minister recognised that Amerotke was drawing his victims into the parry and thrust of debate.
‘Are you saying,’ Paser cleared his throat, ‘are you now formally accusing us of murdering Mafdet because he killed those four women? May I remind you, Lord Amerotke, that on the night he was murdered - I concede when he received his just deserts—’
‘No, no,’ Amerotke interrupted, ‘you did not kill him because he had kidnapped the girls, though you may have suspected that somehow he was involved. No, Mafdet died for another reason, didn’t he? Steeped in villainy, he wanted to collect as much information about High Priest Impuki as he could. Mafdet was not only a thief and a brigand; he was also a blackmailer.’ He could tell from the High Priest’s face that he was on the verge of the truth. ‘Where is it?’ he asked quietly.
‘Where is what?’ Impuki stumbled over the words.
‘The secret place,’ Amerotke replied, ‘where you examine the corpses of those patients without family or friends who die in the House of Twilight at the Temple of Isis.’
‘I don’t know what you are talking about.’ Impuki’s voice betrayed him, while Lady Thena rubbed her eyes as if to relieve a pain in her head.
‘I went to the wabet,’ Amerotke declared, ‘looking for the body of Kliya, an old washerwoman the lady Nethba knew. There was no record of her there. In the mausoleum of the Temple of Isis, however, I found her casket. Lord Impuki, I opened that casket, I unwrapped the linen bandages, I know what I saw.’
‘That’s blasphemy!’ Paser shouted.
‘And so is the dissection of the dead. Tell me, Lord Paser, where is the body of Imer, an old man I knew as a boy? I met him when he was in your House of Twilight. I was later told he had died, but the Scribe of the Dead had no record of him. I know his corpse has not been taken out across the river. Where is that man’s body?’
Lord Impuki gazed back bleakly.
‘Mafdet discovered some of this,’ Amerotke continued. ‘Perhaps he found your secret place, or did he meet an old comrade whose corpse later mysteriously disappeared? He began to threaten you, hint at what he knew. One night Lord Impuki, Lady Thena and you, Paser, met in secret council in the hall of audience. You pretended to be closeted there but already the decision had been made. One of you had taken a sleeping potion from the House of Powders and mixed it with a jug of beer in Mafdet’s house. Once darkness had fallen and the temple was quiet, one or all of you crept out of the chamber using the window which overlooks that fragrant eating place. You slipped through the darkness and you killed him.’ He stopped speaking and closed his eyes.
‘I would like to—’
Amerotke opened his eyes.
‘What would you like to do, Lord Impuki? Protest? I can have the temple searched. Imperial troops will go from building to building until they find what I want.’
‘This is not—’
‘Oh, Lord Paser, do not lie. Your guilt is in your faces. You never desecrated those bodies. I declare that publicly, here in the presence of the Divine One. The old lady’s corpse that I examined after you had finished using it was prepared most honourably for burial, wrapped in sacred linen and buried in a fitting casket.’ Amerotke wiped the lace of sweat from his forehead. ‘I wanted you here,’ he declared quietly. ‘I insisted on it to mislead any spy of the Sebaus in your temple. Nevertheless, you also have a case to answer and you carry the very evidence I need. You brought the record of those who entered your House of Twilight. You have similar lists of those who die. Lists of the burials in the Necropolis. You know they won’t match. Do I lie?’
‘You speak the truth.’ Lady Thena lifted her head and waved her hand to her two colleagues to keep silent. ‘What you say is true,’ she continued slowly. ‘Everything you have said you can prove, except for two things. First, Mafdet was more wicked than you thought. Secondly, my husband did not kill him, I did! I castrated him not because he had kidnapped those temple girls but because he had made one of them pregnant.’
Lady Thena’s words came even as a surprise to Amerotke. Senenmut had to shout for silence.
‘Oh Divine One,’ Lady Thena bowed her head, ‘hear my confession then judge for yourself.’
Hatusu nodded imperceptibly.
‘I was only a young girl when I was dedicated to the service of the Mother Goddess,’ Lady Thena began. ‘I loved my youth in the temple; I fell even more deeply in love with the Lord Impuki. We married and had two beautiful children who were taken by the Great Thief of the Underworld. Paser here became our adopted son. We dedicated ourselves to the service and healing of others. Month passed into month, season into season, year into year. Sometimes the sick, the injured, the ill seemed like a wave around us, a litany of woes, hideous illnesses, secret diseases, most of which we could do nothing about.
‘Those who died in the House of Twilight were always taken to the Place of Purity in the House of Beauty to be prepared for their journey into the Far West. However, many who came to the Temple of Isis, as you have said, Lord Amerotke, had neither friend nor family. We were fascinated by the workings of the human heart, the frailty of the body and how disease could wreak its hideous effects. One day an old man came, a former soldier. His eyes were filmed over, his gums swollen, he complained of searing pains in his belly. The rest you can guess at. Lord Impuki is the most skilled of physicians. I argued with him, convinced him to use that old man’s body to deepen his own knowledge. What harm would it do if the liver was dissected or the heart opened? Perhaps we could use the dead to find a cure for the living. We made progress, we discovered things other physicians never knew and used our knowledge to help other patients. The corpses were always removed secretly from the House of Twilight and taken to our own house, where you will find, Lord Amerotke, what you call the secret place. The Rites of Osiris were always observed. An obsidian knife opened the left side of the corpse, the entrails were removed and the brain drawn forth. The body was washed in natron, dried and perfumed.’
‘But not handed over for burial,’ Amerotke questioned further, ‘you first used them for your own purposes.’
‘Those we took secretly,’ she replied, ‘we first examined: the stomach, the brain, the heart, the joints, the veins and the arteries. Lord Impuki kept secret records, carefully noting what he observed. He discovered growths, tumours, blockages; he experimented on what he had found, and when we had finished we always resumed the holy rite. The body would be anointed, perfumed and bound in linen bandages. We always provided the most costly casket and arranged for it to be taken across to the Necropolis. We had no scruples, we believed we were doing good.’
‘Until Mafdet arrived?’
‘Yes,’ Lady The
na’s voice turned hard, ‘until Mafdet arrived!’
SHETA: ancient Egyptian, ‘a hidden thing’
CHAPTER 12
‘Mafdet discovered our secret like a snake slithering here, slithering there. He was arrogant, especially when his belly was full of beer, and he liked to show off in front of the temple girls.’ Lady Thena spat the words out. ‘He liked nothing better than to strut like a goose with what he called his well-muscled thighs and flat stomach. He was always boasting about his exploits. One day a temple girl came to see me, highly distraught because she had missed her monthly courses for the second time. She confessed how she had lain with Mafdet.’ Lady Thena shook her head. ‘My lord, she was really only a girl, with a child’s mind in a woman’s body.’
‘Did you tell your husband?’
‘You can tell from his expression,’ Lady Thena smiled weakly, ‘that this is the first he ever knew of it. I questioned Mafdet, I challenged him, but of course he denied it. He said if the girl was pregnant she might have lain with my husband or Lord Paser, what proof did I have? I hated him for that. My detestation deepened when he referred to other matters. He claimed he knew what happened in the Temple of Isis.’
‘Did he?’
‘Oh, he tapped his nose and winked. He said that if you were old and lonely perhaps the temple was not the best place to prepare to go into the Far West. I was distraught. Then the temple girl in question disappeared. At first I thought she had fled; that was the logical thing for her to do, seek sanctuary with family or friends. I wondered if Mafdet had anything to do with it, but again he sang the same hymn: what was I talking about? What proof did I have? How dare I accuse him? I decided to watch and wait.’
‘Did you suspect he was a criminal?’ Hatusu asked. ‘Were you aware that he was in the company of malefactors?’
‘Divine One, I grew suspicious because I watched him. I knew he met people late at night, but there again, I had no proof that was a crime. I thought the temple girl would be found, but over the next few months three others disappeared. Mafdet became more bullying and abrasive. I recognised I was dealing with someone with a dark heart, wicked and dyed in villainy. He continued to hint and said that one day he would ask for favours. I didn’t know what he meant.’
‘So you killed him,’ Amerotke said.
‘Of course I did. On the night it happened I left the hall of audience not through the window, my lord, but through a side door. I told my husband and Lord Paser to continue talking, to act as if I was still there. Night had fallen, darkness cloaked me. I hastened across to Mafdet’s house. I had prepared carefully. The pig was already sleeping. He had drunk deep of the beer and the powder I had mixed with it.’
‘Yes, I know that,’ Amierotke said. ‘Or rather,’ he smiled, ‘I now realise it. Mafdet had stolen similar powders to drug the temple girls.’
‘True,’ Lady Thena agreed. ‘But the potion he drank could have had a source other than the temple. I reasoned that because of the earlier thefts, we could claim our House of Powders had been guarded more closely, so we would not be suspected.’
‘It was guarded more securely,’ Paser declared, ‘but I never thought …’ His voice trailed away.
‘Didn’t you wonder if there was any connection,’ Senenmut demanded, ‘between the theft of the sleeping powders and the disappearance of the temple girls?’
‘Mafdet was a great sinner.’ Lady Thena spoke quickly, unwilling for her two companions to be drawn in. ‘I stood by his bed, I recalled that temple girl sobbing her confession to me. Of course, I had my suspicions about the other three. I did wonder if Mafdet had used the powders to violate them. But in the end I was tired of his hints, of his knowing looks, of his arrogant pride. I bound his hands and legs. I gagged his mouth and I cut him, took away his manhood and plucked out his heart. Read the history of our temple, Lord Amerotke. Study the ancient laws of Egypt. Castration is the sentence for someone who violates a temple maiden, eternal death for a blasphemer—’
Paser went to intervene, Thena gestured at him to stay silent. Amerotke gazed admiringly at this priestess. When he had first met her she had appeared so soft, gentle and supportive, a woman who adored her husband. How wrong I was, he thought. You are as strong, ruthless and resolute as this Queen Pharaoh beside me. He suspected Lady Thena was taking full responsibility for what had happened, shielding her beloved husband and adopted son. Amerotke decided not to question them; he had the confession he required.
‘Divine One,’ Lady Thena bowed her head, ‘I beg mercy from the court. Yet what have I done but executed a malefactor? Lord Amerotke, study your laws: do not high priests have the power of life and death over those who serve in their temples? Do we not have the power to send criminals to the wood? I, a High Priestess, executed Mafdet. I castrated him as punishment in this life and removed his heart as punishment in the next. As for the rest, we took the corpses of the lonely and used them to further our knowledge, to fight the demons of disease, the evil spirits of infection.’
‘I would agree.’ Amerotke spoke up sharply before Hatusu could intervene. ‘Lord Paser, I owe you my life.’
Senenmut was also whispering heatedly to Hatusu, who raised her hands grasping the flail and the rod.
‘Lord Impuki, you and your family are to remain here. I shall reflect on all that has been spoken, on all that has been done.’
‘Divine One,’ Impuki bowed, ‘I speak with true voice. We now know Mafdet was a member of a criminal gang, the Sebaus, yet we had no knowledge of that before. Nor are we guilty of the destruction of his house.’
‘Of course you’re not.’ Amerotke pointed dramatically at Chief Scribe Menna. The judge had planned this, a swift, vigorous attack. ‘There sits the Khetra, the leader of the Sebaus, blasphemer, violater, murderer, thief.’
Menna sprang to his feet, then knelt back down as a soldier pressed an axe against his shoulder. Forgetting all protocol and etiquette, he tore the heavy wig from his head and threw it to the floor. His face was a mask of fury, eyes popping, mouth gaping. Amerotke sensed it was more pretence than fear.
‘You’re going to say I’m wrong,’ the judge declared. ‘In fact, you are correct. You are only part of the Khetra. The Khetra is the Guardian or Watchman of the Third Gate of the Underworld, which represents three: Chief Scribe Menna, Lady Lupherna and Heby, three parts of the same evil root.’
Lupherna, her doll-like face set in shock, gazed in horror at Menna.
‘You have no proof.’ The Chief Scribe had now found his voice. ‘Where is the evidence for these outrageous allegations? Heby indeed! Ask Nadif, your policeman, he found me gagged and bound.’
‘We’ll come to that by and by,’ Amerotke replied quietly. ‘My case is this. Menna, you are not the fool you pretend to be, but as cunning as a fox. You are a scribe with military training who knows the Heti—the guild of veterans —because so many served your master. You murdered General Suten because you had to, he was growing very suspicious. He had to die in a certain manner and his memoirs gave you the best way forward. For a while Heby would be the cat’s-paw. You would, of course, arrange for him to be cleared of any charge, an easy matter given the evidence you’d fabricated, not to mention the confusion caused to this court by my assassination.’
‘Nonsense!’ Menna shrieked.
‘No,’ Amerotke replied. ‘A devious plan spoiled by mere chance. But let us begin where it started: the death, no, the murder of General Suten. Let us ignore the nonsense about General Suten wishing to confront his terrors, his fear of snakes. Of course he wanted to, he desperately tried. He talked about it to Lord Impuki. He mentioned it in his memoirs. Yet Suten was an intelligent man and one with many friends, supporters and admirers. Why should he confront the nightmare on his own, on the roof terrace of his house? Why not call his faithful Chief Scribe, or his loyal valet, or …’ Amerotke shrugged, ‘his loving wife?’
‘But, but …’ Lord Valu’s voice was scarcely above a bleat as the royal prosecutor tur
ned on Hefau beside him.
‘Ah, yes, you!’ Amerotke pointed at the snake man, who was so frightened he was trembling, hands grasping his crotch. ‘You, sir,’ Amerotke bellowed, ‘must tell the truth. Did you sell Heby those snakes? Yes or no? If you lie, and I can prove it, I will personally ensure that you are buried alive in the Red Lands.’
Hefau moaned in terror, threw his hands up in the air and prostrated himself on the ground. Such a dramatic, comical gesture made even Hatusu smile.
‘Mercy!’ Hefau wailed. ‘I heard about Lord Valu’s proclamation and the reward offered. I … I thought … Mercy, Divine One, I have sinned!’
‘Take him away,’ Amerotke ordered. ‘Let him reflect on his sins in the House of Chains. Lord Valu, you would agree?’
The Eyes and Ears of Pharaoh, a look of horror on his face, nodded in agreement.
Amerotke used the diversion to stare at Menna; the scribe knelt on the cushions, glaring malevolently at the judge. Amerotke hid his growing excitement. You are my enemy, he thought, you tried to kill me; even now if you had a chance … You are in fact the Khetra, a fighter, ruthless and cunning, whilst the other two were your helpers. Lady Lupherna was clearly terrified. Amerotke sensed she was the weakest, the most vulnerable.
The judge rose as if to adjust his robe, then sat down again. This was the agreed signal for Asural standing near the door. Once the snake man had been removed and order restored, Hatusu made the sign to continue.
‘So,’ Amerotke declared, ‘we have proved one lie; let’s return to the pursuit of the truth. Do you know where I began? I went out to General Suten’s tomb, his House of Eternity, which he was lovingly preparing for his eternal rest. I studied its wall paintings. Most of them were finished over the last few months. I saw no mention of snakes. But above all, I was intrigued that there was no reference to his loving wife, to his Chief Scribe or his loyal valet. Such paintings are a memorial, they capture the scenes and images most dear to us all. Why did General Suten make no allusion to the people so close to him in life? When I visited the general’s house I was informed how, in the weeks before he died, he had grown quiet and withdrawn. Why? And then I read his memoirs and I recalled something else I had seen in his tomb in the Valley of the Nobles. General Suten came from a family of soldiers, high-ranking officers.’ Amerotke paused for effect. ‘Members of the Sacred Band.’
The Assassins of Isis Page 24
