Scepter of Flint

by N. L. Holmes

  “Who is it, A’a?” Hani called from the foot of the stairs.

  “Lord Keliya and his colleagues, my lord.”

  “I forgot they were accompanying us,” Hani said to his brother. “We’ll make quite a delegation. I guess we’ll have to charter an entire ferry. You take up half the deck yourself.”

  Pipi gaped at him, uncomprehending, then he made clawlike hands at Hani and pretended to pounce on him in anger. “Who are you calling fat?”

  Hani jumped away, laughing, and the two brothers would have fallen into another rough-and-tumble, but at that moment, A’a ushered in the three Mitannians, Maya in their wake. “Ah, my friends,” Hani cried, panting. “You’re prompt. Let’s be on our way.”

  They trooped out through the garden single file while Mery-ra waved to them from the doorway. “Hani, where is your wife?” Keliya asked. “I wanted to thank her for the delightful party the other evening.”

  “She had errands to run this morning,” Hani said vaguely. There had been quite a few such mysterious errands lately, and—from her smug, beatific expression when she returned—Hani had the suspicion that Nub-nefer was secretly meeting with her brother, the third prophet of Amen-Ra. Hani’s brother-in-law was in hiding while he embarrassed the government with a barrage of anti-Atenist harangues.

  The six men and Neferet moved in a block down the street, heading for the quays. There, Hani hailed a long-distance ferry of medium size, which seemed to have enough places for them all. As the group, with its three exotically dressed Mitannians, marched up the gangplank, a few heads turned to watch them but not for long. The country was crawling with foreigners during the Great Jubilee.

  From the gunwales, the two young diplomats watched the loosing of the boat while Pipi and Neferet climbed up to the raised stern to see what they could see. Hani, Maya, and Keliya made themselves comfortable on the deck in the shadow of the cabin.

  “Do you happen to know a countryman of yours who has a collar of beard and a mole on his left lip?” Hani asked quietly. “He may be associated with your delegation somehow.”

  Keliya looked up at him quickly. “I can’t think of anyone, Hani. Perhaps he’s a servant. Why do you ask?”

  Still speaking in an undertone, Hani told him about the string of tomb robberies and the description Bebi-ankh had given him of the leader. Keliya’s droopy eyebrows rose, and his face became even more lugubrious than usual.

  “That’s an appalling breach of good faith. We’re all likely to have our credentials revoked.” He looked at Hani earnestly. “I’ll certainly keep my eyes open.”

  The conversation reminded Hani about the disappearance of Bebi-ankh. Where can the man have gone, right from under my nose? Perhaps something had spooked him so badly that he’d fled, leaving his family behind.

  “Keliya, how much do you know about your young adjutants? How thoroughly have they been vetted?”

  The Mitannian looked anxious, as if Hani’s suspicions had infected him. He said in a low voice, “They were sent to me by the foreign office; their credentials were all in order. I’m sure they were checked out. But I must admit, I didn’t know them personally. I’ve spent most of the last few years here, with only infrequent visits home, and they’re part of a different generation of scribal training.” He shrugged apologetically. “From what I’ve seen, they’re good men—hardworking, taking instruction without ego, interacting well with the locals. The stuff of successful diplomats.”

  Hani clapped him on the shoulder to reassure him. “I just need to consider everyone, my friend. I’m sure they’re fine. And for that matter, just because our mystery Mitannian spoke of immunity doesn’t mean he actually has it.”

  They broke off as Neferet came prancing down the deck toward them. She plopped down beside her father and thrust her arm through his. “Uncle Pipi and the others are talking about irrigation and excavation and fertilizer. Bo-o-oring.”

  Maya quoted tartly, “Do not intrude on a man. Enter when you have been called.” He was young enough to rebuke Neferet without eliciting an eye roll. But she stuck out her tongue at him then gave her irresistible gap-toothed grin to show there were no hard feelings.

  Soon Pipi and his two companions approached, deep in a conversation punctuated by laughter. “I didn’t know you were so well versed in agriculture, my brother,” Hani called.

  “Oh,” said Pipi, tilting his head modestly, “I’ve been studying up on it. I thought that, now that I’m back, I might buy a few khas of land and do a little farming.” He sank into a seat on the deck, and the young Mitannians did the same.

  “Not raising horses, I hope,” Maya said innocently.

  Hani concealed a grin and said in mock seriousness, “There seems to be unanimity on that, my brother. Better hear it as the will of the gods.”

  “Actually, that was an ambition of mine,” said young Pirissi. “But there’s been nothing but war at home for so long that I’ve pretty much abandoned it.” He sighed, but it hardly seemed to create a ripple on his good cheer. “I applied for the foreign service instead.”

  Hani posed the question that had become a standard part of his friendly interrogation. “How did you gentlemen learn such good Egyptian? Have you been here before?”

  “No, neither of us. We learned from one of your men, a trilingual scribe who works in our chancery,” said Tulubri.

  “Min-mes. Do you know him?” Keliya interjected.

  Hani said with a nod, “I do.”

  They sat in congenial silence for a while. The rhythmic splash of the paddles propelling them down the current, the hiss of malachite waters parting around their bow, and the broad, glittering stream that slipped past them as they traveled lulled Hani into a state of pleasant drowsiness. Through a sleepy eye, he watched a heron rise with majestic grace from the marshes, but it made him a little sad because it reminded him of Qenyt. Before long, his chin dropped to his chest, and consciousness drifted pleasantly away.

  CHAPTER 6

  FIVE DAYS LATER, THEY arrived in Akhet-aten. Pipi, Hani, and his secretary set out for the Hall of Royal Correspondence, where the former peeled off at the copying room. Hani and Maya continued to the reception hall outside Lord Ptah-mes’s office, Neferet in tow.

  “I might as well check in with Ptah-mes since we’re here,” Hani explained. “Our Mitannian friends will wait on the boat.”

  Maya and Neferet camped in a corner of the room while Hani was admitted to his superior’s office. Ptah-mes greeted him with a forced smile. “Hani. Did your holidays pass pleasantly?”

  “They did, my lord.” Dreading the answer, he added, “And yours?”

  Ptah-mes tipped his head cryptically, his mouth smiling but his kohl-edged eyes bleak. “Apeny spent it with our daughter in Men-nefer.” He dropped his gaze. “I have some news you won’t like, my friend.”

  Hani’s stomach clenched in expectation. He could think of many pieces of news he wouldn’t like to hear.

  “Mahu has arrested that Bebi-ankh.”

  “What? I can hardly believe it,” Hani cried. “He’s been at my house for weeks. How did Mahu manage to nab him so quickly? He must have been observing my gate.” The thought sent a cold wave of anger flooding through Hani’s middle. The low-down bastard. May Ammit take him. He’s more dangerous than the criminals.

  “It’s quite possible. He has also obtained custody of the others from the army.”

  This absurd breach of all hierarchies of authority left Hani speechless with fury. He stared at Ptah-mes with his jaw hanging.

  “I think we can assume he’s acting in the king’s name,” said the high commissioner dryly.

  “He’ll torture them until they tell him what he wants to hear,” Hani cried in a voice strangled with anger. “I told them they had the vizier’s protection.”

  Ptah-mes lifted a caustic eyebrow. “Only one person outranks the viziers. Or perhaps two. Life, prosperity, and health be to them.”

  I have other wishes for them, Hani thought, simm
ering. “I suppose I’ll have to tell Bebi-ankh’s family.”

  Ptah-mes nodded, his face taking on that cool, expressionless set that—to those who knew him—indicated distress.

  “Thank you for telling me, my lord.” Hani forced his voice level. “And thank you again for hosting my brother’s family. They’ll be off your hands soon. Pipi has accepted the offer to succeed to Pa-kiki’s post in our foreign service archives, and he’ll find a place here in the capital.”

  “In spite of the plague?”

  “So it seems.” Hani smiled lightly, but concern tightened his throat. “I see you’re staying, too, my lord.”

  “The government must go on, Hani. Besides,” he added with an arid smile, “there is no one who much cares if I die. That relieves me of a great weight.”

  Hani wanted to protest, but anything he could think to say seemed somehow facile. His heart went out to his superior, all the more because he seemed so stoic about his situation. But that’s where breeding shows, Hani thought in admiration.

  Ptah-mes rose, and Hani did the same. “Are you headed back to Waset now?” the high commissioner asked.

  “No, my lord. I’m accompanying the Mitannian delegates down to Hut-nen-nesut. I’m supposed to comfort Lady Kiya before her departure for her homeland.”

  Ptah-mes snorted. “You know the king is keeping her child?”

  “I’ve heard that,” Hani said sadly. “People under my protection don’t seem to fare very well.”

  “Nor mine, Hani, if that’s any consolation.” Ptah-mes opened his door, and Hani took his leave.

  In the reception hall, he found Maya and Neferet still sitting on the floor, playing some sort of miniature game scratched on the back of a potsherd. They looked up at his approach, and Neferet bounded to her feet, Maya following at a more decorous pace.

  “What is it, my lord?” Maya asked hesitantly.

  “Mahu has found and arrested Bebi-ankh.”

  Maya’s eyes grew round as doum fruit. “Oh no!”

  “And he has taken over custody of the rest of the tomb robbers from the army.” Hani spread his lips in a grim smile. “Busy little man.”

  “How did he find Bebi-ankh? Purely by chance? He’d only just disappeared from your house.” Maya looked so shocked he could hardly close his mouth.

  “Who is Bebi-ankh?” Neferet asked.

  “The man who has been staying at our house, my duckling,” Hani said distractedly. He turned to Maya. “I suspect Mahu had followed him to my place and was watching the gate. What I don’t understand is what made Bebi-ankh bolt. I saw him the night he disappeared, and he looked like he’d seen an ancestor’s ba.”

  Maya shook his head, his lips compressed. “Mahu’s letting you do his work and then swooping in for the credit, the bastard.”

  Hani was so disgusted he dared not speak. After a moment of breathing like a bull, he said more calmly, “We need to get back to the ferry. The Mitannians are waiting for us.”

  They stalked down to the embarcadero in a silent line, Neferet following, curious but—mercifully—unspeaking. The cool white sun of midwinter shone down on the gravelly slope from a sky as limpid as an aquamarine. Boats of all sizes and degrees of luxury bobbed along the bank of the River, cargo barges side by side with expensive private vessels like Lord Ptah-mes’s, which Hani saw rocking in the shallow water nearer to the palace. In the distance, drawn up to its pale stone quay, lay the Dazzling Sun Disk, the royal yacht. Anger rose like bile in Hani’s throat.

  Keliya and the two attachés were leaning on the gunwales as Hani and his fellows approached the vessel. “We bought food for lunch,” Keliya called with a wave.

  Hani forced down his fury and managed an amiable smile. “Thanks, my friend. That was thoughtful.” He stumped up the gangplank with Maya and Neferet in tow. “We can eat en route and not have to stop until nightfall.”

  “How far is Hut-nen-nesut from here, Papa?” Neferet asked.

  “Not far—two or three days. It’s near the lake of Pa-yom.” He turned to Maya. “That’s where our friend Pa-aten-em-heb is from, remember?”

  “I’m going to meet Lady Djefat-nebty there. We’re treating the Royal Ornaments,” Neferet said to Keliya, trying to sound casual about the honor. He received her statement with grave admiration, while the two young adjutants smiled at one another. A warm glow of love and concern melted Hani’s anger. Be safe, little duckling.

  The group of travelers, smaller by the absence of Pipi’s ample volume, moved up the deck in search of a shady place to spread their picnic. They’d just settled cross-legged onto the boarding and spread Keliya’s purchases out before them when someone cried roughly from the embarcadero, “You there! Don’t touch that rope! We’re coming aboard.”

  Hani’s senses prickled in trepidation. He knew that voice. Thunderous footsteps came barreling up the gangplank, and the sailors scattered. Hani sprang to his feet, his hackles rising. He expected the worst.

  And there the worst stood—Mahu, with half a dozen burly policemen, spewing onto the deck, armed with bronze rods and wooden bats. One of their number restrained a sinister-looking leashed baboon, but it wasn’t Hani’s old friend, Cub.

  “Well, Hani. Here you are in the dubious company of foreigners again,” Mahu said with a sneer. “Makes me wonder where your loyalties lie.”

  “With the alliances that make the Two Lands strong,” said Hani in an icy tone. What, by all that’s holy, is he up to?

  “Breathe easy. I’m not here for you this time. It’s these two gentlemen.” Mahu turned his scowling red face upon the Mitannian attachés, whose surprise had turned to open alarm.

  Pirissi shot a confused look at his superior. “What’s this about, my lord?”

  For answer, Mahu flicked a hand, and his medjay stepped forward, surrounded the two Mitannians, and bound their arms behind their back. The foreigners made no move to defend themselves, but their horror and disbelief were writ clearly in their gaping mouths and staring eyes.

  “What have we done?” Tulubri sputtered.

  “I arrest you for tomb robbing,” Mahu growled. Hani was sure he saw a dark gleam of triumph in the chief of police’s eye. The words seemed to echo for endless heartbeats.

  Then Keliya, recovering, cried indignantly, “I protest. These men have diplomatic immunity.”

  But Mahu said with a thin smile, “If they don’t want to be treated like criminals, they shouldn’t commit criminal acts. They’ll have a fair trial.”

  “I can imagine,” Hani spat. “You may just have provoked a war with a foreign power, Mahu, you ignoramus.”

  Mahu’s face grew livid. He was a big man, powerful and heavyset, with hard, fleshy features that revealed his savage temper. He and Hani entertained a visceral hatred for one another. Hani had heard that Mahu was a commoner born, and he knew him to be touchy in the extreme about fancied disrespect from aristocrats like Hani.

  “Would you like to join your criminal friends on the end of a stake, Hani? Then keep talking.”

  Keliya, normally the most easygoing man in the Two Lands, had grown spiky. He cried in an outraged voice, “I’m protesting formally to your king about this. This is an insult to the kingdom of Naharin. We have a treaty—”

  “A treaty with whom? Neb-ma’at-ra, if I’m not mistaken. Treaties have to be renegotiated every generation, my fine fellow. And there’s not enough left of Naharin to make it worth anyone’s trouble to scribble out any treaty.” Mahu smirked.

  Keliya swelled with rage. He towered over Mahu and said in a voice trembling with the effort to control it, “I’ll see to it you suffer for this, my lord. This is behavior unacceptable among civilized nations.”

  “You do that... my lord.” With a sarcastic little smile, Mahu turned, and his men trooped after him.

  Neferet cried out in anger, “Your baboon is better than all of you.”

  Several of the policemen suppressed a snicker, but Hani’s heart leaped into his mouth. He gestured franticall
y at Neferet to be quiet, not to draw attention to herself. Mahu whirled and advanced on Neferet, who confronted him, chest up, stubborn lip outthrust—a storm of righteous indignation in the body of a girl.

  “Is this your bodyguard, my lord?” Mahu asked Keliya sarcastically. He shot a sideways glance at Hani. “I’d say from the look of her this is one of Hani’s spawn. Am I right? Call off your little attack bitch, my lord, or I’ll take her in for obstructing justice.”

  Hani moved in quick menace between his daughter and the policeman. His flesh was physically tingling with the urge to throw himself upon this foul man and beat him into oblivion. “Try, Mahu.”

  Mahu bristled, violence building under his skin like the swelling of a blister. Hani’s breath was sawing in his nose. He knew how ready Mahu would be to toss him to his henchmen or throw him overboard. He struggled to control himself and just prayed that Neferet would keep her mouth shut.

  After a long, intense space during which the two men glared at each other like street dogs, Mahu turned toward the gangplank once more. His men hustled the desperate Mitannians away with unnecessary brutality and disappeared off the side of the boat, while Hani and Keliya were left staring at one another in raging consternation.

  “I can’t believe this,” Maya cried in a stunned voice. “They’re accredited diplomats.”

  “I hate that man,” Neferet said passionately. “He’s a ba-a-ad person.”

  Hani felt sweat break out all over him as if he had been holding it in, along with his breath, during the whole tense confrontation.

  Keliya’s face had drained of its already pale color. “I’m getting off, Hani. I have to deal with this.”

  “Of course, my friend,” Hani assured him. There would certainly be repercussions. He followed Keliya to the gangplank. “I’ll see to it your baggage gets back to you.”

  “Thank you, Hani.” Keliya took his hand and squeezed it warmly. “And thanks to you and Lady Neferet for defending us.”