Death Comes as the End

by Agatha Christie

  ‘There is Kameni. He, too, is a scribe. I will enjoin on him to place himself at your service. If you have anything of which to complain, he will write down your words with his pen and despatch the complaint to me.’

  Nofret nodded appreciatively.

  ‘That is a good thought. Kameni comes from the North. He knows my father. He will not be influenced by family considerations.’

  ‘And Henet,’ exclaimed Imhotep. ‘There is Henet.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Nofret, reflectively. ‘There is Henet. Suppose that you were to speak to her now–in front of me?’

  ‘An excellent plan.’

  Henet was sent for and came with her usual cringing eagerness. She was full of lamentations over Imhotep’s departure. Imhotep cut her short with abruptness.

  ‘Yes, yes, my good Henet–but these things must be. I am a man who can seldom count on any stretch of peace or rest. I must toil ceaselessly for my family–little though they sometimes appreciate it. Now I wish to speak to you very seriously. You love me faithfully and devotedly, I know–I can leave you in a position of trust. Guard Nofret here–she is very dear to me.’

  ‘Whoever is dear to you, master, is dear to me,’ Henet declared with fervour.

  ‘Very good. Then you will devote yourself to Nofret’s interests?’

  Henet turned towards Nofret who was watching her under lowered lids.

  ‘You are too beautiful, Nofret,’ she said. ‘That is the trouble. That is why the others are jealous–but I will look after you–I will warn you of all they say and do. You can count on me!’

  There was a pause whilst the eyes of the two women met.

  ‘You can count on me,’ Henet repeated.

  A slow smile came to Nofret’s lips–a rather curious smile.

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I understand you, Henet. I think I can count on you.’

  Imhotep cleared his throat noisily.

  ‘Then I think all is arranged–yes–everything is satisfactory. Organization–that has always been my strong point.’

  There was a dry cackle of laughter and Imhotep turned sharply to see his mother standing in the entrance of the room. She was supporting her weight on a stick and looked more dried up and malevolent than ever.

  ‘What a wonderful son I have!’ she observed.

  ‘I must not delay–there are some instructions to Hori–’ Muttering importantly, Imhotep hurried from the room. He managed to avoid meeting his mother’s eye.

  Esa gave an imperious nod of the head to Henet–and Henet glided obediently out of the room.

  Nofret had risen. She and Esa stood looking at each other. Esa said: ‘So my son is leaving you behind? You had better go with him, Nofret.’

  ‘He wishes me to stay here.’

  Nofret’s voice was soft and submissive. Esa gave a shrill chuckle.

  ‘Little good that would be if you wanted to go! And why do you not want to go? I do not understand you. What is there for you here? You are a girl who has lived in cities–who has perhaps travelled. Why do you choose the monotony of day after day here–amongst those who–I am frank–do not like you–who in fact dislike you?’

  ‘So you dislike me?’

  Esa shook her head.

  ‘No–I do not dislike you. I am old and though I can see but dimly–I can still see beauty and enjoy it. You are beautiful, Nofret, and the sight of you pleases my old eyes. Because of your beauty I wish you well. I am warning you. Go North with my son.’

  Again Nofret repeated: ‘He wishes me to stay here.’

  The submissive tone was now definitely impregnated with mockery. Esa said sharply:

  ‘You have a purpose in remaining here. What is it, I wonder? Very well, on your own head be it. But be careful. Act discreetly. And trust no one.’

  She wheeled abruptly and went out. Nofret stood quite still. Very slowly her lips curved upwards in a wide, catlike smile.

  PART TWO

  WINTER

  CHAPTER SIX

  FIRST MONTH OF WINTER 4TH DAY

  Renisenb had got into the habit of going up to the Tomb almost every day. Sometimes Yahmose and Hori would be there together, sometimes Hori alone, sometimes there would be no one–but always Renisenb was aware of a curious relief and peace–a feeling almost of escape. She liked it best when Hori was there alone. There was something in his gravity, his incurious acceptance of her coming, that gave her a strange feeling of contentment. She would sit in the shade of the rock chamber entrance with one knee raised and her hands clasped round it, and stare out over the green belt of cultivation to where the Nile showed a pale gleaming blue and beyond it to a distance of pale soft fawns and creams and pinks, all melting hazily into each other.

  She had come the first time, months ago now, on a sudden wish to escape from a world of intense femininity. She wanted stillness and companionship–and she had found them here. The wish to escape was still with her, but it was no longer a mere revulsion from the stress and fret of domesticity. It was something more definite, more alarming.

  She said to Hori one day: ‘I am afraid…’

  ‘Why are you afraid, Renisenb?’ He studied her gravely.

  Renisenb took a minute or two to think. Then she said slowly:

  ‘Do you remember saying to me once that there were two evils–one that came from without and one from within?’

  ‘Yes, I remember.’

  ‘You were speaking, so you said afterwards, about diseases that attack fruit and crops, but I have been thinking–it is the same with people.’

  Hori nodded slowly.

  ‘So you have found that out…Yes, you are right, Renisenb.’

  Renisenb said abruptly:

  ‘It is happening now–down there at the house. Evil has come–from outside! And I know who has brought it. It is Nofret.’

  Hori said slowly:

  ‘You think so?’

  Renisenb nodded vigorously.

  ‘Yes, yes, I know what I am talking about. Listen, Hori, when I came up to you here and said that everything was the same even to Satipy and Kait quarrelling–that was true. But those quarrels, Hori, were not real quarrels. I mean Satipy and Kait enjoyed them–they made the time pass–neither of the women felt any real anger against each other! But now it is different. Now they do not just say things that are rude and unpleasant–they say things that they mean shall hurt–and when they have seen that a thing hurts then they are glad! It is horrid, Hori–horrid! Yesterday Satipy was so angry that she ran a long gold pin into Kait’s arm–and a day or two ago Kait dropped a heavy copper pan full of boiling fat over Satipy’s foot. And it is the same everywhere–Satipy rails at Yahmose far into the night–we can all hear her. Yahmose looks sick and tired and hunted. And Sobek goes off to the village and stays there with women and comes back drunk and shouts and boasts and says how clever he is!’

  ‘Some of these things are true, I know,’ said Hori, slowly. ‘But why should you blame Nofret?’

  ‘Because it is her doing! It is always the things she says–little things–clever things–that start it all. She is like the goad with which you prick oxen. She is clever, too, in knowing just what to say. Sometimes I think it is Henet who tells her…’

  ‘Yes,’ said Hori thoughtfully. ‘That might well be.’

  Renisenb shivered.

  ‘I don’t like Henet. I hate the way she creeps about. She is so devoted to us all, and yet none of us want her devotion. How could my mother have brought her here and been so fond of her?’

  ‘We have only Henet’s word for that,’ said Hori drily.

  ‘Why should Henet be so fond of Nofret and follow her round and whisper and fawn upon her? Oh, Hori, I tell you I am afraid! I hate Nofret! I wish she would go away. She is beautiful and cruel and bad!’

  ‘What a child you are, Renisenb.’

  Then Hori added quietly:

  ‘Nofret is coming up here now.’

  Renisenb turned her head. Together they watched Nofret come slowly up the s
teep path that led up the cliff face. She was smiling to herself and humming a little tune under her breath.

  When she reached the place where they were, she looked round her and smiled. It was a smile of amused curiosity. ‘So this is where you slip away to every day, Renisenb.’

  Renisenb did not answer. She had the angry, defeated feeling of a child whose refuge had been discovered.

  Nofret looked about her again.

  ‘And this is the famous Tomb?’

  ‘As you say, Nofret,’ said Hori.

  She looked at him, her cat-like mouth curving into a smile.

  ‘I’ve no doubt you find it profitable, Hori. You are a good man of business, so I hear.’

  There was a tinge of malice in her voice, but Hori remained unmoved, smiling his quiet, grave smile.

  ‘It is profitable to all of us…Death is always profitable…’

  Nofret gave a quick shiver as she looked round her, her eyes sweeping over the offering tables, the entrance to the shrine and the false door.

  She cried sharply:

  ‘I hate Death!’

  ‘You should not.’ Hori’s tone was quiet. ‘Death is the chief source of wealth here in Egypt. Death bought the jewels you wear, Nofret. Death feeds you and clothes you.’

  She stared at him.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean that Imhotep is a ka-priest–a mortuary priest–all his lands, all his cattle, his timber, his flax, his barley, are the endowment of a Tomb.’

  He paused and then went on reflectively:

  ‘We are a strange people, we Egyptians. We love life–and so we start very early to plan for death. That is where the wealth of Egypt goes–into pyramids, into tombs, into tomb endowment.’

  Nofret said violently:

  ‘Will you stop talking about death, Hori! I do not like it!’

  ‘Because you are truly Egyptian–because you love life, because–sometimes–you feel the shadow of death very near…’

  ‘Stop!’

  She turned on him violently. Then, shrugging her shoulders, she turned away and began to descend the path.

  Renisenb breathed a sigh of satisfaction.

  ‘I am glad she has gone,’ she said childishly. ‘You frightened her, Hori.’

  ‘Yes…Did I frighten you, Renisenb?’

  ‘N-no.’ Renisenb sounded a little unsure. ‘It is true what you said, only I had never thought of it that way before. My father is a mortuary priest.’

  Hori said with sudden bitterness:

  ‘All Egypt is obsessed by death! And do you know why, Renisenb? Because we have eyes in our bodies, but none in our minds. We cannot conceive of a life other than this one–of a life after death. We can visualize only a continuation of what we know. We have no real belief in a God.’

  Renisenb stared at him in amazement.

  ‘How can you say that, Hori? Why, we have many, many Gods–so many that I could not name them all. Only last night we were saying, all of us, which Gods we preferred. Sobek was all for Sakhmet and Kait prays always to Meskhant. Kameni swears by Thoth as is natural, being a scribe. Satipy is for the falcon-headed Horus and also for our own Mereseer. Yahmose says that Ptah is to be worshipped because he made all things. I myself love Isis. And Henet is all for our local God Amün. She says that there are prophecies amongst the priests that one day Amün will be the greatest God in all Egypt–so she takes him offerings now while he is still a small God. And there is Ra, the Sun God, and Osiris before whom the hearts of the dead are weighed.’

  Renisenb paused, out of breath. Hori was smiling at her.

  ‘And what is the difference, Renisenb, between a God and a man?’

  She stared at him.

  ‘The Gods are–they are magic!’

  ‘That is all?’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean, Hori.’

  ‘I meant that to you a God is only a man or a woman who can do certain things that men and women cannot do.’

  ‘You say such odd things! I cannot understand you.’

  She looked at him with a puzzled face–then glancing down over the valley, her attention was caught by something else.

  ‘Look,’ she exclaimed. ‘Nofret is talking to Sobek. She is laughing. Oh!–’ she gave a sudden gasp, ‘no, it is nothing. I thought he was going to strike her. She is going back to the house and he is coming up here.’

  Sobek arrived looking like a thundercloud.

  ‘May a crocodile devour that woman!’ he cried. ‘My father was more of a fool than usual when he took her for a concubine!’

  ‘What did she say to you?’ asked Hori curiously.

  ‘She insulted me as usual! Asked if my father had entrusted me with the sale of any more timber. Her tongue stings like a serpent. I would like to kill her.’

  He moved along the platform and, picking up a piece of rock, threw it down to the valley below. The sound of it bouncing off the cliff seemed to please him. He levered up a larger piece, then sprang back as a snake that had been coiled up beneath it raised its head. It reared up, hissing, and Renisenb saw that it was a cobra.

  Catching up a heavy staff Sobek attacked it furiously. A well directed blow broke its back, but Sobek continued to slash at it, his head thrown back, his eyes sparkling, and below his breath he muttered some word which Renisenb only half heard and did not recognize.

  She cried out: ‘Stop, Sobek, stop–it’s dead!’

  Sobek paused, then he threw the staff away and laughed.

  ‘One poisonous snake the less in the world.’

  He laughed again, his good humour restored, and clattered off down the path again.

  Renisenb said in a low voice: ‘I believe Sobek–likes killing things!’

  ‘Yes.’

  There was no surprise in the word. Hori was merely acknowledging a fact which he evidently already knew well. Renisenb turned to stare at him. She said slowly:

  ‘Snakes are dangerous–but how beautiful that cobra looked…’

  She stared down at its broken, twisted body. For some unknown reason she felt a pang at her heart.

  Hori said dreamily:

  ‘I remember when we were all small children–Sobek attacked Yahmose. Yahmose was a year older, but Sobek was the bigger and stronger. He had a stone and he was banging Yahmose’s head with it. Your mother came running and tore them apart. I remember how she stood looking down at Yahmose–and how she cried out: “You must not do things like that, Sobek–it is dangerous! I tell you, it is dangerous!”’ He paused and went on, ‘She was very beautiful…I thought so as a child. You are like her, Renisenb.’

  ‘Am I?’ Renisenb felt pleased–warmed. Then she asked:

  ‘Was Yahmose badly hurt?’

  ‘No, it was not as bad as it looked. Sobek was very ill the next day. It might have been something he ate, but your mother said it was his rage and the hot sun–it was the middle of summer.’

  ‘Sobek has a terrible temper,’ said Renisenb thoughtfully.

  She looked again at the dead snake and turned away with a shiver.

  II

  When Renisenb got back to the house Kameni was sitting on the front porch with a roll of papyrus. He was singing and she paused a minute and listened to the words.

  ‘I will go to Memphis,’ sang Kameni, ‘I will go to Ptah, Lord of Truth. I will say to Ptah, “Give me my sister tonight.” The stream is wine, Ptah is its reeds, Sekhmet its lotus, Earit its bud, Nefertum its flower. I will say to Ptah, “Give me my sister tonight. The dawn breaks through her beauty. Memphis is a dish of love apples set before the fair face…”’

  He looked up and smiled at Renisenb.

  ‘Do you like my song, Renisenb?’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘It is a love song from Memphis.’

  He kept his eyes on her, singing softly:

  ‘Her arms are full of branches of the persea, her hair is weighed down with unguent. She is like a Princess of the Lord of the two Lands.’

  The colour
came up in Renisenb’s face. She passed on quickly into the house and almost collided with Nofret.

  ‘Why are you in such a hurry, Renisenb?’

  Nofret’s voice had a sharp edge to it. Renisenb looked at her in faint surprise. Nofret was not smiling. Her face looked grim and tense and Renisenb noticed that her hands were clenched at her sides.

  ‘I am sorry, Nofret, I did not see you. It is dark in here when you come from the light outside.’

  ‘Yes, it is dark here…’ Nofret paused a moment. ‘It would be pleasanter outside–on the porch–with Kameni’s singing to listen to. He sings well, does he not?’

  ‘Yes–yes, I am sure he does.’

  ‘Yet you did not stay to listen? Kameni will be disappointed.’

  Renisenb’s cheeks felt hot again. Nofret’s cold, sneering glance made her uncomfortable.

  ‘Do you not like love songs, Renisenb?’

  ‘Does it matter to you, Nofret, what I like and do not like?’

  ‘So little cats have claws.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Nofret laughed. ‘You are not such a fool as you look, Renisenb. So you find Kameni handsome? Well, that will please him no doubt.’

  ‘I think you are quite odious,’ said Renisenb passionately.

  She ran past Nofret towards the back of the house. She heard the girl’s mocking laugh. But through that laugh, sounding clearly in her memory, was the echo of Kameni’s voice and the song that he had sung with his eyes watching her face…

  III

  That night Renisenb had a dream.

  She was with Khay, sailing with him in the Barque of the Dead in the Underworld. Khay was standing in the bows of the boat–she could only see the back of his head. Then, as they drew near to sunrise, Khay turned his head, and Renisenb saw that it was not Khay but Kameni. And at the same time the prow of the barque, the serpent’s head, began to writhe. It was a live serpent, a cobra, and Renisenb thought: ‘It is the serpent that comes out in the Tombs to eat the souls of the dead.’ She was paralysed with fear. And then she saw the serpent’s face was the face of Nofret and she woke up screaming: ‘Nofret–Nofret…’

  She had not really screamed–it was all in the dream. She lay still, her heart beating, telling herself that none of all this was real. And then she thought suddenly: ‘That is what Sobek said when he was killing the snake yesterday. He said: “Nofret”…’