Hatusu gasped as she realised where Amerotke was leading them. ‘High-ranking officers in the Sacred Band,’ Amerotke repeated. ‘Trusted architects, masons, captains and colonels, who help prepare the tombs and supervise the transport of treasure, who would know everything there was to know about such holy, yet secret, matters. General Suten makes reference to this in his memoirs, whilst the wall paintings of his tomb reflect the glorious history of his family. So I began to wonder.’
‘Other men have such knowledge,’ Chief Scribe Menna declared. Amerotke just stared back.
‘Sometimes finding the truth,’ the judge mused, ‘is like a cook in his kitchen. You have to take things and mix them before you achieve what you want. So here we have an illustrious general whose family played an important part in royal burials and those of other notables. They too must have left memoirs and papers which, I’m sure, will be found in General Suten’s archives, those same archives he had decided to donate to the Temple of Isis.’ Lord Impuki nodded at this. ‘General Suten was also a soldier, a commander-in-chief of Egyptian forces; hundreds, thousands of men served under him. In times of peace these men leave the ranks eager for some new post or sinecure, desperate for work so they can feed their families. General Suten’s generosity in these matters was well known.’
‘I drove many of them away, I sent them to General Omendap,’ Menna declared harshly.
‘Oh yes,’ Amerotke agreed, ‘but you knew their names and where they lived. So,’ he summarised, ‘General Suten held knowledge about the Valley of the Kings and other rich tombs. He also had lists of former soldiers, many of them desperate men. He was also the holder of an imperial cartouche, the great seal of Egypt.’
‘We broke that,’ Menna protested. ‘It was dispatched back to the royal palace.’
‘Oh, I’m sure a seal was sent back to some busy chamberlain who realised it was shattered and threw it away without a second glance. But the original? No, Chief Scribe Menna, you kept that. Now all these things come together,’ Amerotke continued. ‘Busy, busy Chief Scribe Menna, who knew all the family history, had access to all documents, was the holder of the seal. It was only a matter of time, wasn’t it, before you owned the means to rob tombs and send the plunder along the Nile or even across Egypt’s borders. However, you had to have help. I’m sure that Heby and Lady Lupherna were lovers. The general was old and distracted.’ Amerotke paused. ‘It’s happened before and it’ll happen again,’ he added quietly.
‘So,’ he raised his voice, ‘you know where the treasure is, but how do you rob it? You can blackmail Heby and Lupherna with what you know, and they will help you. General Suten was a great writer, he loved the city of Thebes and knew all its temples; his manuscripts mention the Temple of Khnum, a derelict building on a lonely island along the Nile. On a wall of those ruins is a picture of an archer holding a bow: that would become your symbol. Your web is spun, and the flies are drawn in. Heby is your messenger, he goes to this or that former soldier in the dead of night, offering him wealth and the prospect of riches. They are under strict instructions to come to the Temple of Khnum or perhaps some other lonely place. A sinister system with its own terrible beauty. Only the Khetra knows who the Sebaus are; they don’t know each other, do they? Garbed in black, heads and faces masked, they are offered riches in this life and, if they die, honourable passage into the Far West.’
‘You have proof?’ Menna was more composed.
‘We’ll come to that by and by,’ Amerotke insisted. ‘The Sebaus are not only thieves but messengers. You steal something, but then it has to be sold to a merchant, or trader. Officials have to be bribed, so more and more people are drawn in. Of course, mistakes are made. You do know about the Shardana? A former mercenary, a prominent Sebaus? He is arrested, tried by me for killing a man and sentenced to a prison oasis.’
‘I know nothing of this man,’ Menna protested.
‘Oh, I suspect you know everything. The Shardana had been stupid. One of the rules of your gang is that the members live public lives of probity, worship the gods, obey the law and speak with true voice. The Shardana broke these rules. More importantly, he was a threat. He was imprisoned and sentenced to lifelong captivity. Prison oases are not healthy places; sooner or later the Shardana’s mind would have turned to a pardon or amnesty. Perhaps he would seek an audience with Chief Justice Amerotke and reveal all he knew about the dreadful robbery of the tombs. There are so many strands to the Khetra’s web, perhaps this had already begun?’
Amerotke shifted his gaze. Lady Lupherna’s right hand was trembling as if she was on the verge of losing control. Menna kept glancing at her. Amerotke quietly prayed that what he had plotted would happen.
‘The Shardana had to die,’ Amerotke continued. ‘But how was it to be done? Bribes were offered for his release, but the Shardana’s victim was of noble family. Guards could be bought, but prison oases are small, crowded places. As I’ve said, perhaps the Shardana had already begun to confide in his gaolers or his companions. I mean, they are lonely, desolate spots, where a man’s courage can soon be weakened.’
‘Did you bring our enemies, People of the Nine Bows, on to the sacred soil of Egypt to murder and burn?’ Hatusu’s voice, stern and carrying, silenced the whispering around the court. The Pharaoh Queen was giving Menna the opportunity to confess; to lie, not to speak with true voice in answering a direct question from Pharaoh’s mouth was the worst form of treason.
‘I did not.’ Menna’s reply was impudent, and Lady Lupherna’s agitation only deepened.
‘But you did,’ Amerotke contradicted him. ‘You sent out a messenger into the Red Lands to bribe a Libyan war band. They were to destroy the prison oasis and kill everyone they found, but the price they demanded was surprising. The Libyan tribes are always looking for fresh blood for their menfolk, women outside their own kin to strengthen their clan or tribe. Above all they prize Egyptian maidens, not some coarse-skinned peasant girl, but the graceful ones of Thebes. That was the price they demanded: four young women of good breeding. And where could you find these? The Libyans are no fools, they would tell at a glance if you tried to deliver some city prostitute or even a courtesan from one of the pleasure houses. Mafdet was your answer. He was captain of the guard at the Temple of Isis. A member of the Sebaus, he was bribed, threatened and cajoled to kidnap those young women. Of course, the first victim was the one he’d seduced. Mafdet would be only too pleased to be rid of her. The temple authorities might suspect, but they couldn’t prove anything. Moreover, Mafdet had been busy discovering their secrets ready to counter with his own blackmail. The first girl was stolen, drugged and taken beyond the temple walls at night, then hurried north to the Temple of Khnum and delivered to some desert trader, who took her across the Red Lands to the waiting Libyans. This was your token, the assurance that the price would be paid. The prison oasis was attacked and plundered, a bloody massacre in which no one survived. The Libyans had to be paid in full— you might always need them again— so three other temple girls disappeared—’
‘This is not true!’ Menna interrupted. ‘I know nothing of Libyan tribes or desert paths.’
‘Of course you do, you’re Chief Scribe Menna, General Suten’s aide. His house has maps and charts. More importantly,’ Amerotke moved in his chair, ‘General Suten saw service against the Libyans, and where he went, you were sure to follow.’
Menna shrugged and glanced away.
‘The Shardana was now silenced, but like all thieves, Menna, you became very greedy. You must have known the Divine One would intervene, but there again, you were well protected. None of the officials or merchants I arrested knew you, whilst the Sebaus remained untouched. You planned to fall silent and wait for another day. Only two problems remained, General Suten and myself.’
Amerotke lifted his hands as if to examine the ring of Ma’at on his middle finger. He stared at Nadif and smiled. The policeman knelt fascinated by what he was seeing and hearing; he had lost all surprise and awe,
and was listening intently to Amerotke, now and again nodding in agreement.
‘Standard-Bearer Nadif.’ Amerotke lowered his hand; the signal had been given, Shufoy would be ready.
‘Yes, my lord.’ The Medjay officer bowed.
‘You discovered a great deal about horned vipers. I believe they must be brought in from the Red Lands, not collected from the city dust as that fool Hefau declared?’
‘That is correct, my lord.’
‘Who collected them for you?’ Amerotke turned back to Menna.
‘Nobody did.’
‘Steeped in lies,’ Amerotke shouted. ‘One of your Sebaus did! And you know why? Because General Suten was beginning to grow uneasy. He may have had a fear of snakes, but he also became aware of a different type of viper, closer to his bosom. He became anxious, withdrawn, he suffered stomach cramps and went out to the Temple of Isis for powders to ease his discomfort so that he could sleep more peacefully. General Suten was a good man, an honourable man. What did he suspect, Lady Lupherna? That you were playing the whore with his valet? That he was being betrayed by a man he regarded as a friend?’
The woman opened her mouth as if to reply; Amerotke glimpsed it, and also noticed Menna brush her thigh with the back of his hand.
‘Or was it you, Menna? Did General Suten notice you absorbed in the family archives; did he wonder about the robberies or reflect why Heby should slink away at night? Only the gods know the answer to that! Of course he would try and console himself. He’d dismiss such thoughts as impure, unworthy, but you were sharp enough to notice the change. The general had to die. He was the one man who could destroy the Khetra, so you and those other hearts of wickedness concocted a cruel plot.’
Amerotke was about to continue when there was a pounding on the court door. He raised his hand and nodded. Asural opened the door and Shufoy came hastening in and immediately prostrated himself.
‘Speak!’ Hatusu ordered. ‘Speak and approach, little man,’ she added gently. Shufoy, shuffling on all fours, came forward, acting out the role Amerotke had taught him. He came in front of the Chair of Judgement and, pressing his face down again, waited for Amerotke to speak.
‘What is it?’ the judge asked.
‘My lord,’ Shufoy raised his face, ‘the body has been found! We have discovered his corpse! It was not as you were told—’
He would have continued but Amerotke raised his hand for silence. He asked his manservant to withdraw and stand next to the captain at the door. Shufoy’s entrance had been enough; the look which passed between Menna and Lupherna confirmed their guilt.
‘We shall continue.’ Amerotke clapped his hands gently. ‘General Suten had often talked about confronting his demons, and you decided to use that as a means of murdering him. One of your Sebaus brought in a bag of horned vipers. Once the evening meal was over, the usual search was carried out. In fact that was rather clumsy. Why should General Suten order such a search in view of what you say he had planned? Moreover, as I said earlier, why should he confront his fears alone on his deserted roof terrace? In fact the general was more intent on being by himself, on drinking a goblet of wine and continuing his memoirs. The roof terrace was cleared. Heby had arranged for the general’s wine to be heavily drugged.’ Amerotke shook his head. ‘You lied! You claimed to know nothing of the powders Lord Impuki had given your master.
‘So that night, tired, his stomach full of wine, his mind dulled by the potion, General Suten decided to retire to his bed. Lady Lupherna and Menna were in or near the hall of audience; Heby controlled the steps to the roof. The sack was given to him and up he went. It was full of horned vipers especially brought in by a Sebaus, some former soldier who had knowledge of snakes and was skilled in their capture. I doubt if that particular Sebaus lived a day after he handed the sack over. The Khetra would have regarded him as far too dangerous. So,’ Amerotke drew in a deep breath, ‘the sack was emptied over the general and the pouch of poppy powder tossed nearby. The vipers, angered and excited, struck and struck again, and General Suten woke and found his nightmare was a reality. One of Egypt’s great heroes died a death he had always feared. The rest is as you know. Standard-Bearer Nadif, you have brought the sack with you?’
The Medjay officer nodded; his nephew had been too nervous to attend court.
‘Please stand up and empty it.’
The policeman obeyed. Getting to his feet, he undid the cord around the neck, emptied what he had found in the undergrowth and threw the sack to the ground.
‘Notice what he did.’ Amerotke got to his feet and bowed to the Chair of Judgement. He walked over, picked up the sack and came to kneel before Pharaoh. ‘Divine One, when someone empties a sack, and I’ve watched this happen on a number of occasions, the sack itself is no longer important and is thrown away. On the night he died, we are supposed to believe that General Suten had taken this sack up to the roof terrace and tied it to a rail behind his bed where it could be hidden. Apparently, or so the story goes, once the roof terrace was clear, General Suten took his knife, sawed through the rope and emptied the contents on to the bed beside him.’
‘He would have thrown it to the ground,’ Senenmut declared. ‘Tossed it away.’
‘But according to the accepted story,’ Amerotke declared, ‘for some strange reason General Suten took the sack back to the edge of the roof terrace and threw it down amongst the bushes in his garden. Why should he do that? What was so important about the sack? Why not just leave it on the ground? If we are to believe Menna’s story, General Suten would be more concerned about the vipers than the sack.’
‘Nonsense!’ Menna cried. ‘Why should I go to such ridiculous lengths? After all, Heby was accused.’
‘No, Heby was investigated because that was the way you wanted it.’
Amerotke retook his seat and sipped from his goblet.
‘Murder, I suppose, has its own logic, its own hideous harmony. First came my arrests. True, in my foolishness I never discovered the Sebaus, their true organisation, the awesome power they wielded. Nevertheless, I had begun to overturn stones, and perhaps I appeared more dangerous to you than I really was. That’s why you tried to kill me. You knew I had gone to the Temple of Isis; Mafdet would have provided you with detailed plans, so you struck. You burnt Mafdet’s house to hide any evidence of his wrongdoing, whilst your assassins attacked me to silence me, first in my own temple, then at Isis. Your heart had conceived my murder lest I discover that the Sebaus were former soldiers controlled by some high-ranking officer or priest,’ Amerotke shrugged, ‘or a chief scribe. You wanted me dead as you wanted Sithia dead. My arrests were actually the cause of everything that happened afterwards.
‘Let me repeat the heart of my argument. I have explained my theory, which I cannot fully prove, that General Suten was also growing suspicious, though about what I cannot say. Did he suspect his lovely wife and his valet Heby? Was he alarmed by the furtive secrecy of his chief scribe? Or had General Suten become deeply concerned over more serious matters? He must have been worried about the thefts in the Valley of the Kings, his archives held vital information about these. He certainly became quiet and withdrawn, his reservations were apparent, his change in behaviour obvious, even to his old servants in the mansion. More importantly, in his own way General Suten was voicing reservations about his family and household. The wall paintings of his tomb make hardly any mention of them. General Suten could become a major obstacle in a time of crisis, so the Khetra— Menna, Lupherna and Heby—plotted his death. You had to, to survive!’
Amerotke paused so the court could hear Lupherna’s sobbing.
‘General Suten had to die, but how? An accident? He was a wiry, tough old man, often surrounded by other servants; the more suspicious he grew, the more careful he’d be. A fall from the roof? General Suten was a fighter and he might survive. A poison powder? That would provoke outcry. Whilst a hired assassin is a risk which could leave you vulnerable. But snakes, horned vipers? In a curious way this was t
he best method, especially after what General Suten had both spoken and written about.’
‘A risk, surely?’ Lord Valu declared, although his voice lacked conviction.
‘Of course it was a risk,’ Amerotke agreed. ‘But not as great as being unmasked and arrested. So the trap was sprung. General Suten was drugged, the horned vipers released, and suspicion falls on Heby, which is spiced by rumours of the valet flirting with the general’s pretty wife.’
Amerotke raised his hands. ‘A good lie always contains some truths. The Khetra knew about the poppy seed the general received at the Temple of Isis. We only have their word that he never told them or they never knew about it. Lord Impuki,’ he turned to the High Priest. ‘Such powders can be bought?’
‘Yes.’ Impuki nodded. ‘As can a pouch bearing the insignia of our temple.’
‘The rest,’ Amerotke continued, ‘was also a mixture of truth and lies. Heby, of course, was well protected by a series of defences which I am sure Menna would have argued in court. Where did he get those horned vipers? Where did he store them? How could he have brought them up to the roof without anyone noticing? What real motive did he have for murder? What about General Suten’s intention to face his own fears? Finally, and most importantly, we have the cord tied on the rail behind the drapes where General Suten’s bed stood. Eventually someone, under Menna’s direction, would have stumbled on that, if not me then Standard-Bearer Nadif, or some other official. You, Menna, and Lupherna were never suspected. After a little doubt, Heby would also be cleared and the Khetra would be safe. But blind chance intervened. The gods love to upset our best-laid plans. The snake man, prompted by Lord Valu’s offer of a reward, made the surprising declaration that he sold those vipers to Heby. Now, if Heby had been calmer, that too could have been dismissed. Why should Heby show his face if he was planning murder? But you hadn’t planned for such a mishap and that’s where you made a terrible mistake. Your next was to assassinate that temple guard and draw attention to the criminal known as Djed.’
The Assassins of Isis Page 25
