Murder in the Palace: A Nikolas of Kydonia Mystery

by Iain Campbell

  T T T T

  Ramesses was seriously upset. He knew that moving five thousand people, mainly soldiers, without any prior warning, took much effort and that delays were usual. He was an experienced general and leader of men. But still he took his anger out on Zineb, who in turn saw it as his duty to spread the royal disfavour as widely as possible.

  The last troops were still embarking in Memphis at noon three days after the order to load had been given. Some things, particularly the requisitioning of ships, take time. Finally, one early afternoon Ramesses boarded the royal barge and the expedition was underway.

  T T T T

  THEBES

  At midday Kahun’s message was approaching Thebes. Using the royal messenger-service the message had been carried eighteen hours a day by fast chariots, using regular horse changes. Only full darkness prevented progress.

  The problem was that Kahun had no address to send the message directly, and so was forced to send it to the local secret-police headquarters. Senni received the message mid-afternoon. As it used a private cipher he was unable to determine the contents. He saw Nikolas and Pamose each morning and decided that the message would have to wait until mid-morning of the next day.

  Nikolas and Pamose slipped out early next morning, to visit the ‘Fox’s Delight’, where messages were collected from Senni and the various agents. They received Senni’s message and proceeded quickly to the secret-police headquarters. There Senni gave them the message, but as they didn’t have the cipher ‘key’ with them they had to return to Netjerikhet’s house before they could decipher the message. They returned via the ‘Sheaf’, quickly checking for further messages before leaving through the back door and then walking through the market. Finally they then traversed the quietness of the Temple of Luxor as a last check to ensure they were not being followed before slipping into Netjerikhet’s house.

  On labouriously deciphering Kahun’s report they found that the information was largely consistent with what they had deduced locally, mainly from which houses their agents had disappeared. A few additional names were obtained, but as before without the Governor or local military being reliable Nikolas, Pamose and Senni were effectively powerless to act.

  Later that afternoon they approached Senni’s headquarters from the north, to confuse possible watchers, and advised him of the contents of Kahun’s message. Senni agreed to send word to Abydos seeking troops to march on Thebes. Clearly, given the contents of Kahun’s message, loyalist assistance could be expected from the North soon, but whether this would arrive in time was problematical.

  It was agreed that Pamose would slip out each morning without guards to check with Senni regarding further progress. Nikolas and the rest of the party were effectively confined to Netjerikhet’s house.

  T T T T

  The attack came four nights later

  Nikolas and the others had come to feel like caged animals. Whilst the house was a beautifully gilded cage, it was a cage nevertheless. Being constantly cooped up had come to wear on everybody’s nerves, in particular on the guards who were sleeping several to a room and standing regular watches by the doors, on the roof and on each floor of the house. Tempers had become frayed and arguments started over trivial incidents.

  That night there was a nearly new moon; the house and surrounding grounds were in darkness, with nearby buildings and trees casting patches of impenetrable blackness. After two weeks of boring routine the guards had let their sharp edge slip. In the early hours of the morning several dark shapes climbed over the side wall of the house grounds; others gathered in the darkness near the front door. All of the ground floor windows and doors had been shuttered and barricaded from the inside when night had fallen; several of the first-floor windows had been left open for ventilation in the hot weather, as had most of the upper-floor windows where the formal sleeping quarters lay.

  The guard on duty at the open first-floor window overlooking the garden was inattentively picking tiny fruit seeds from his teeth and staring into the distance. He was cursing having accepted this position; although the pay was reasonably good the new guards appeared to have ‘drawn the short straw’ in being given the night-shift work. He was absently considering what to do next time he was at home with his woman when the loop of a garrotte slipped over his head. With a startled gasp he reached to his neck to try to lessen the burning pain. With a quick twist of the assailant’s wrists the cord broke through and the guard’s head lolled loosely. Six men, dressed all in black, slipped through the first-floor window. Another four climbed higher, to enter the open window above on the second-floor.

  Nikolas was sleeping lightly, on the side of the sleeping-pallet away from the door, lying on his side facing the window. He opened his eyes when he heard a scraping noise and saw the first intruder heave himself over the window-sill. It was a large man of heavy build and he moved clumsily. Nikolas drew a quick breath in shock and dropped his right hand slowly to the floor to grasp the handle of the unsheathed short-sword lying by the side of the bed. His left hand gripped Kiya firmly by the thigh and shook her urgently. With a small gasp of pain Kiya started to turn, but Nikolas gripped her thigh again warningly.

  The first assailant was now inside and standing next to the window, where a second head and pair of shoulders appeared.

  Nikolas had one advantage, his eyes were fully adjusted to the darkness of the room and the figures were silhouetted against the small amount of light coming through the window. He slowly transferred the sword to his left hand and used the right to pick up a beautifully balanced throwing-knife, which was also lying unsheathed on the floor.

  Holding the knife by the blade, he suddenly rose from the bed and threw the knife at the second assailant, who now lifting himself through the window. The knife struck and the blade buried to the hilt in the left upper chest. With a scream of pain the man dropped backwards through the window and out of sight. A further cry came as the falling man struck the next climber below, knocking him to the ground to fall awkwardly as he landed. This gave Nikolas all the time he needed as he roared and jumped forward, transferring the sword to his right hand at the same time shouting, “To me! To me! Assassins in the house! Arm yourselves! Intruders in the house!”

  Frozen with shock by this sudden turn of events the first intruder was only just starting to raise his knife as Nikolas brought the sword down on his unprotected neck, biting deep into the torso. The man dropped with only a faint gurgle.

  Meanwhile, the six intruders who had entered through the first-floor window had cut down the guard stationed by the stairs. Four proceeded downstairs and without a struggle disposed of the guards posted at the front door, taking them from behind without warning.

  The other two had started to go from room to room on the first-floor, cutting the throats of the sleeping guards in their rooms. The intruders opened the front door and let in a further dozen men waiting outside.

  But now Nikolas’ warning cries sounded loudly and shouts and noises could be heard as the guards swiftly woke, grasped their weapons and moved into the corridors shouting as they went. Here total bedlam reigned; in near pitch-darkness eleven guards, confused and scared but seriously angry, quickly disposed of the two assailants on that floor and then faced the sixteen intruders pouring up the stairs. The intruders had the advantage not only of numbers but also in knowing that everybody ahead of them on this floor was an enemy, while the defenders didn’t know one from another. Shouts of identification rang out as guards sought to determine who was who. Once identified, defenders paired up and fought back to back.

  The guards were well aware of their duties and slowly fought their way to the stairs leading to the second-floor.

  Meanwhile, six other assailants had slipped into the second-floor, entering through empty rooms after forcing the window shutters open. The leader cursed softly as he heard the cries of alarm. After hearing Nikolas’ shout the guard Besenmut on the second-floor peered in through the door, seeing Nikolas before entering. Momen
ts later Pamose, clad in a loose sleeping gown with a short-sword in his hand, rushed into the room, closely followed by Lorentis who was naked but carrying a robe.

  Nikolas felt somewhat silly standing stark naked with his privates swinging in the breeze, bronze short-sword in hand and a spray of blood from the dead Egyptian across his chest and face.

  Kiya also stood naked by the bed, a long fighting-knife in her hand and her eyes watching the window. Nikolas stooped to wipe his blade clean on the clothes of the dead Egyptian and wiped himself with a cloth before donning a tunic and quickly arranged his armour and weapons. With Lorentis’ help he strapped on breastplate and arm-guards before picking up a small round shield, little larger than the size of his forearm, slipping his left hand through the leather straps.

  Lorentis and Kiya, in the Egyptian manner, seemed unconcerned about their nakedness. Lorentis slipped on a short sleeping-robe. Kiya was content to remain without clothing. After casting an appreciative look at the ladies, Besenmut returned to the door, looking out into the hallway. Pamose went to his room to collect armour and weapons before returning quickly, to also be assisted into his armour by Lorentis.

  All the while the sounds of fighting, shouts, clash of swords and cries of pain drifted up from below. Almost as soon as Pamose was equipped, a noise in the corridor heralded the arrival of the next group of assassins. Besenmut called a warning and stepped back into the room as the six assailants moved quickly towards the door.

  Kiya shouted at Lorentis to pick up the knife of the dead assassin and to watch the window, to guard the backs of the men in case further attackers entered by that route.

  Besentmut, standing just inside the doorway, engaged the first assailant, scoring a wound across his chest with a wide cross-arm swipe, before falling with a horrible gurgle as a thrown knife struck him in the throat. The wounded assassin staggered back against the wall as others poured in through the doorway.

  Nikolas and Pamose had been regularly practicing swordsmanship together for several weeks and stepped quickly forward shoulder to shoulder, Nikolas on the right and Pamose on the left.

  Pamose took one step to the left to protect his unguarded side and allow them both fighting room as five fit assailants moved quickly towards them, knives partially outstretched and weaving side to side, with the wounded man following behind. Kiya stepped up behind Nikolas, standing two paces away, providing a second line of defence, knife held chest-high and eyes gleaming with anger as she watched the attackers advance. Nikolas and Pamose had the advantage both of the longer reach of their swords and the hastily-donned armour on their upper bodies. The assassins had greater numbers and agility.

  The first four assassins attempted to double-team both Nikolas and Pamose, while the other two moved towards the side walls to try to slip around behind. Clearly the assassins had not practiced together, as the four-man front jostled each other in the confined space, hindering free movement. Nikolas sidestepped to the left, blocked a wild swing from the left man of his pair, before swinging twice at the right-hand man, firstly with a sweep of his sword from left to right, knocking aside the knife held in the other man’s right arm and cutting deeply into the forearm, and then reversing the direction of the movement to thrust upwards into the stomach of his assailant. The Egyptian took one step back and collapsed, sliding off the sword as he did so.

  Even before he turned his head to look at the other assailant, Nikolas stepped to his right, and swung the shield at stomach height to counter the first man. The shield was slightly low and the knife bounced off the top rim of the shield and thumped into the leather armour of Nikolas’ breastplate, scoring a line almost from nipple to nipple. Nikolas stepped diagonally backwards, aware that he had lost sight of the third man. A harsh feline yell sounded behind him; Kiya.

  Nikolas’ current opponent was too good for him to take a moment to look backwards, as the assassin pressed his advantage by circling to the left, away from the longer reach of the sword and making Nikolas turn further to the left. As he now had his back almost to the side wall of the room, this opened up a wider view and Nikolas tried desperately to get his peripheral vision working on what was happening to his left where Kiya and Lorentis were alone.

  But the danger to his front kept him unable to turn his head or even glance to the side.

  Pamose was shouting loud oaths, casting aspersions on the parentage of his attackers, but again Nikolas could not spare a moment to cast a glance in that direction. ‘Damn, but he’s good!’ thought Nikolas as he and his attacker moved together. Nikolas tried a quick attack off the left foot, but slipped on wet blood as he did so, leaving him open to a quick thrust that got past the shield and slashed open his left upper arm. As the attacker overbalanced Nikolas used a quick flick of the right wrist to deeply cut into his opponent’s thigh. ‘One hit each, now,’ he thought.

  On the far side of the room Pamose had disposed of two attackers and was engaged with a third. The remaining one was in the room to Nikolas’ left, where the women were. Nikolas had to end this ‘dance of death’ quickly. As he had been warrior-trained in his youth, he began a regular and planned series of steps and sword swings, driving his attacker back. The old training came back without conscious thought, thanks to the pain of the blows received at the time making his memory clear and movement automatic. After three short series of movements Nikolas had opened up the guard of his opponent and cut hard for the neck with a quick upwards right slash, neatly severing the head which bounced across the room spraying blood over Nikolas and the wall

  Pamose was still locked in combat with his assailant, stepping and thrusting fiercely. Nikolas turned and saw Kiya still holding off the other assassin, and saw another head poking in through the window – the survivor of the first party had returned. He shouted a warning to Lorentis, whose attention had been transfixed by the battle in the room.

  Kiya had no training but lots of courage. Two cuts already showed on her arms, blood flowing freely down. She circled slowly, knife in right hand and a robe wrapped around her left forearm, hanging loose. The assailant slipped as he moved forward, his knife going for another slash. Kiya swirled her left arm, entangling the assailant’s right arm and knife in the robe, before plunging her own knife to the hilt in his chest. Her opponent sagged and fell to the floor, taking Kiya’s weapon with him. At the same time Lorentis had stepped to one side of the window and as that assassin moved upwards she cut sideways fiercely across his throat with her knife, spraying blood widely as he dropped back out of sight. Pamose finally managed to get a killing blow on his final opponent.

  ‘Well done!” panted Nikolas. “We have two real lionesses with us!” He hugged first Kiya and then Lorentis, before the girls fell into each other’s arms to sob in mutual comfort. Nikolas nodded understandingly. The first kill, even for a trained warrior, was never easy.

  As Pamose and Nikolas returned to the door the first of the guards from the floor below fought their way up the stairs. Pamose grabbed a bow and quiver from his room and loosed over the heads of the defenders, forcing the attackers back and quickly dropping three of them. Five defending guards remained, all bleeding from several wounds. Two collapsed against the wall in Nikolas’ room, breathing heavily, and heads sagging to their drawn up knees.

  Nikolas noted that neither Tutu nor Amos were amongst those who had fought their way upstairs.

  Nikolas quickly bound Kiya’s wounds and she his. Then they attended to the five guards. Pamose, standing guard with his bow, was unmarked, as was Lorentis. The guards quickly searched and stripped the dead assassins. Nothing of importance was found and the small purses and meagre items of jewellery were quickly pocketed. The bodies were thrown out of a window onto the street. Besenmut’s body was placed in an adjoining room.

  The guest rooms had sufficient water in jars to cover the immediate needs for drinking, but there was none to spare to wash blood from bodies and weapons, the blood becoming sticky as it dried. The remaining assassins, estimated at
about ten in number, stayed on the floor below and could be heard conversing quietly.

  Pamose approached Nikolas, and said, “I think it’s about three hours to first light. We can probably hold them off but we need to be out of here. I don’t know what the Snaw Watch Officer will do when he gets here. That would depend on whether he’s been bribed. I’ve made several friends in the local garrison who have houses in the town and I’ll see what I can do.” He put on one of the less bloodstained black robes formerly worn by an assassin and climbed out of the window before disappearing over the side wall.

  About an hour before first light the assassins quietly started carrying out their dead and injured and slipped away. Not long afterwards Pamose approached the house from the street, entered by the front door and after quickly checking the lower two floors called up the stairs that the house was secure.

  As they walked carefully down the stairs, holding smoking torches aloft and lighting oil lamps as they progressed, Nikolas saw that the building had become a charnel-house. The bodies of his guards and companions lay as pathetic huddled shapes littering the building. Here and there two or three lay sprawled together, united in death. Blood was sprayed across the previously spotless walls and lay pooled everywhere. Occasionally body parts could be seen scattered across the floor. The stench of blood and spilled guts filled the air, making the survivors gag and the ladies put their hands to cover their noses. The once fine furniture lay broken, scratched and stained. The ornamental carpets and wall hangings were soaked with blood and smashed pottery and ornaments lay scattered around. The house had become an abattoir where perhaps thirty men had been slaughtered, with nearly half of these still lying abandoned on the floor, eyes staring blankly and hideous wounds

  Nikolas saw the huge shape of his long-time guard Amos huddled in death near the stairway, the body hacked about as if by a demented butcher. Pamose was kneeling next to the corpse of Tutu, who lay on his back. The torch Pamose held cast the flickering shadows of the survivors against the walls, as if monsters from the Duat prowled the room. Nikolas approached and saw Tutu lay in a pool of blood. Fresh wounds covered his body, deep gashes to the arms and legs, slashes to the abdomen. Viscera could be seen bulging obscenely from the belly. His throat had been cut from ear to ear, nearly severing the head. He had fought until he fell, too gravely wounded to continue, and then been mercilessly killed as he lay helpless on the ground.