Scepter of Flint

by N. L. Holmes

  “What are they concocting, I wonder?” asked Mery-ra, joining his son. The two men stared after the girls as they disappeared into the bushes.

  A moment later, squeals of triumph arose. Neferet cried loudly, “It worked! Lady Djefat-nebty will be so proud of us!”

  Hani moved quietly away, chuckling to himself, while Mery-ra craned his neck in the effort to see what was going on. Eventually, he shrugged and followed Hani. “I’m going to see Meryet-amen. I’ve been so busy with my new career as an investigator that I’ve neglected her. And her cook,” he added with a twinkle in his eye. He toddled off to the front door, pushed the mat aside, and disappeared.

  Hani stood, staring pensively after his father, wondering what he should undertake first. He wanted badly to find Talpu-sharri and question him. There was always a chance that the man might reveal who was protecting him and why. But first, Hani decided to go greet the girls and ask what they’d made that elicited such excitement. He set off around the bushes with a smile and then stopped dead, his heart in his throat and his smile freezing.

  Neferet and Bener-ib were sitting on the ground wrapped in each other’s arms. He saw his daughter lean over and kiss the other girl on the mouth.

  Hani backed up and fled the last few steps into the salon, unable to breathe. What have I just seen? Is it some ritual that’s part of making their concoction? But he knew that it was not.

  Hani dropped into a chair, his pulse throbbing in his throat. Sweet Lady of Love, explain this to me. Hani recognized the look on Neferet’s face. It wasn’t friendship. He swallowed hard. What do I do now? If only Nub-nefer were here.

  He tried to decide what to say to Neferet—or whether to say nothing at all and pretend he’d seen nothing. But for all that he was a master of concealment, as his mother had thought, Hani wasn’t sure he could carry off that deceit. He swallowed again, and it barely went down. His throat seemed to be clogged.

  He was still sitting there, frozen in place, when Neferet entered the room, red-faced and smiling, Bener-ib trailing her with her empty pots. “Hello, Papa,” his daughter said cheerfully and made as if to continue.

  “What were you girls making, my duckling?” Hani tried to smile and sound normal, but he felt as if his face were stiff with shock. He kept telling himself it wasn’t what it had looked like.

  “It was a very difficult recipe for treating sweating fever, Papa. Lady Djefat-nebty dared us to make it. She didn’t think we could.” She and her friend exchanged a grin that was a little too warm and secretive for Hani’s taste.

  He could think of nothing to say, so he just nodded. His heart was pounding as if he’d run a race. He wanted to talk to his youngest daughter, to say, “I saw you. Please explain it to me.” He wanted ask her questions. But he found his courage failed him.

  To Hani’s extravagant relief, Nub-nefer came back around midmorning with a basket of vegetables from the farm. Hani was sitting in the salon, looking into space, when she appeared. He roused himself, jumped up, relieved her of the basket, then embraced her fervently.

  She stared at him, a tinge of suspicion in her eyes. “What is it, my love? You look disturbed.”

  Should I tell her? Or is this Neferet’s to tell? Hani tried to ease into the subject as if he were slipping little by little into the cold water, splashing it on his arms and legs first to accustom himself to the chill. “My doe, I saw Neferet and her friend today. They... they seemed to be more than friends.”

  She tilted her head in incomprehension. “What does that mean, Hani?”

  He swallowed hard. “She... they were in a rather compromising act.”

  She gaped at him. “Like what? Plotting a murder?”

  “No, no. It was... rather... amorous, if you follow me.” He could feel sweat breaking out on his temples. “I don’t want to make it sound worse than it was, but I think... they’re in love.”

  Nub-nefer burst out laughing, but it wasn’t a wholly amused noise. “I don’t follow you. Two girls? You must have misunderstood.”

  Hani drew a deep breath and let it out. “I don’t think so. I’ve known men like that, my dear. And they were fine men, good scribes. One was an army officer.”

  “Men like what?”

  “Who preferred other men. I suspect this may be why she doesn’t want to get married.”

  Nub-nefer faced him, wide-eyed and stunned. She opened her mouth once to speak, but nothing came out. At last, she said hotly, “Our daughter is normal.”

  “So were those men.”

  “And I’ll bet they were married and had children, didn’t they?”

  He had to admit that that was true.

  Nub-nefer turned away, staring into space. Tears had begun to well in her eyes. She murmured in a trembling voice, “Hani, this is so shameful. How have we failed? She loves you so. She loves her brothers. What has turned her?”

  “I’ve asked myself that, my love. But I think nothing has turned her. It’s just the way the gods have made her. ‘Each man is led by his nature.’”

  Nub-nefer was having none of it. She burst out, her voice hard, “It’s that Djefat-nebty. She’s corrupted our child.” She began suddenly to weep and pressed herself against Hani’s chest. “Why did we ever let her go down there? It’s been nothing but... but ruin ever since.”

  Hani held her close, not knowing how to comfort her. Yet within his own heart, something was shifting. “We only want her to be happy, don’t we? And she is happy. She loves being a sunet, and she loves her friend. She’s happy, and she’s doing good for people—is that so ruinous? I’d say we’ve done a fine job with her.”

  “We should arrange a marriage for her, Hani. Separate her from that strange girl.”

  “What makes you think she’s strange?” Hani asked with a gentle smile. “You’ve never even met her.”

  “Are you on her side?” Nub-nefer demanded, pulling away.

  “I’m on Neferet’s side, and so are you. Why make her miserable, sticking her in a loveless marriage?”

  “But, Hani...” Her objection trailed off. She stared at the floor for a long space of time. Hani could almost see the argument going on behind her smooth golden forehead. When she spoke again, it was less in outrage than in regret. “But, Hani, she won’t give us grandchildren.”

  “Neither will Baket-iset, but you don’t hold it against her. Do you love her less than the others who have children?” The more he argued with Nub-nefer, the more at peace he was about the situation. Here, at least, was a problem he didn’t have to solve.

  Nub-nefer stood in silence, her brow pleated in thought.

  “How long will you be here, my dove?” Hani finally said. “Can you have lunch with me before you go back?”

  She nodded, calm returning. That was another thing he loved about Nub-nefer—she could rally. She was passionate, and her first reactions were often explosive, but she could rally.

  “I have a question for Amen-em-hut, dear one. Can you put me in touch with him?” he asked, picking up the vegetable basket as they made their way to the kitchen.

  She nodded again, looking up at him. “Yes, but what if that awful Mahu is watching you?”

  “Why don’t you see your brother first and tell him I would like to meet him at someone’s house. We’ll arrive at different times. No one would have reason to expect anything subversive.”

  Nub-nefer said, “All right, Hani. Can I ask what it’s about?”

  “He may have some insight into this tomb-robbing spree. Some of what we learned makes it sound as if the high priests could be behind it, but I can’t be sure without more information. He would know.”

  They laid the vegetables on the table for the cook and drifted, hand in hand, back out to the salon.

  “I’ll go ask right now,” she said.

  ⸎

  Hani decided to go alone to his rendezvous with Amen-em-hut. The renegade priest had agreed to a meeting but had not yet told Hani where they were to meet—a precaution, Nub-nefer assured he
r husband, in case someone should overhear. This way, they wouldn’t have time to mount an ambush.

  The following morning, Nub-nefer set out on her habitual “errand,” and when she returned, she whispered to Hani, “Lord Ptah-mes’s house.”

  Hani’s jaw dropped, but he said nothing. Does Ptah-mes know about this? He had reservations about intruding on a house of mourning, especially knowing how hostile Ptah-mes was to Hani’s brother-in-law. But Amen-em-hut had to know what he was doing.

  He walked Nub-nefer down to the quay and saw her onto a ferry heading upriver, then he directed his steps toward Lord Ptah-mes’s magnificent ancestral estate, a little queasy at the prospect of intruding.

  The gateman let him in and said quietly, “In the salon, my lord.”

  Hani half expected to see Ptah-mes waiting for him, but instead, he perceived the small, handsome figure of his brother-in-law, the deposed third prophet of Amen-Ra, rise from a chair and come toward him, beaming. “Hani! It’s been too long since we’ve seen one another.”

  The two men embraced. Hani was pleased to see that Amen-em-hut looked healthy and well-groomed. Two years before, he’d spent months hiding in Hani’s boat shed and had come out rather the worse for wear.

  “Nub-nefer said you had something you wanted to ask me.” Amen-em-hut indicated a chair, and he and Hani seated themselves.

  “My brother, I have to ask you this first,” Hani began under his breath. “Does Ptah-mes know you’re here?”

  Amen-em-hut laughed. “Of course.” He locked eyes with Hani and said meaningfully, “Things have changed, my friend. I think the Osir Apeny is praying for her husband.”

  I hope so. He needs it. Hani said, “Do you know anything about a string of tomb robberies here in Waset?”

  “I may have heard something. Why?”

  “I don’t suppose your colleagues have anything to do with that, do they?”

  Amen-em-hut’s fine black eyes widened. “Not that I’m aware of. And I think I would be aware if it were so.”

  “Apparently, a Mitannian is involved. I wondered if this might be an effort to discredit the regime in the eyes of all the foreign emissaries who have been here during the Great Jubilee.”

  Amen-em-hut twisted his mouth in thought. “It may well be, but not on our part. I can almost swear to that. Who were the victims?”

  “Ah-mes, Pa-ren-nefer, and Sa-tau.”

  Amen-em-hut shook his head. “They were partisans of the old ways. I can’t imagine any of us would have wished them harm.”

  Hani nodded, both relieved and disappointed. He would have to look elsewhere for a mastermind, then. Still, it relieved him to learn the high priests were not involved. They were ruthless in their efforts to bring down Nefer-khepru-ra and his Aten, but at least they stopped short of desecrating the house of someone’s ka.

  “What do you know about Lord Ay?” Hani asked. “How loyal is he to the king? Does he really believe in the new religion, or is it just useful for advancing his daughter?”

  “I wish I knew, Hani. I can only tell you he isn’t part of us. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  “How are things with Lord Mai and Lord Si-mut?” Hani said, referring to the first and second prophets.

  “Well.” Amen-em-hut grinned. “We’re making inroads into the army.”

  Hani thought of Pa-aten-em-heb and could well believe it. “Then I thank you for taking this risk for me, my friend. You’ve helped me. Please give my regards to your colleagues.”

  The two men rose and clapped one another amicably on the back. Amen-em-hut retreated quietly into the back of the house, while Hani made his way through the splendidly painted vestibule toward the front door. He’d just stepped down from the porch when Ptah-mes appeared in the path before him, tall and immaculate with a face like a stone.

  “My lord,” cried Hani, pleased to see him but feeling a little guilty.

  “Hani,” Ptah-mes said with a bleak smile. “Don’t worry. I know why you’re here.”

  “Good. The choice of meeting place rather surprised me.”

  Ptah-mes gestured toward the arbor, and the two men walked side by side across the garden. “I’ve changed my mind about some things. My loyalty to the throne is... shaken. Our king has forfeited the blessing of the gods; this plague is proof of that.”

  Hani shot a sideways glance at him. “You’re going to resign, my lord?”

  “No,” said Ptah-mes grimly. “I can be of more use to those who share my viewpoint where I am.”

  “You’ve talked to the priests, then?” Hani asked under his breath. The priests had asked the same thing of Hani.

  Ptah-mes met his eye, and there was a smoldering rage behind the dark irises that almost frightened Hani. “Better late than never, eh, my friend?” The commissioner’s lips were thin and hard. It occurred to Hani that, much as he admired him, he would not like Ptah-mes for an enemy. “I myself should still be a priest, were it not for the forces of... politics. Perhaps that has colored my antipathy toward Mai, who was after all, my replacement. But the time for personal rancor is past.”

  Hani knew that his friend had been stripped of the high priesthood and the viziership by Nefer-khepru-ra, even before the latter had come to the throne on his own. “Just be careful, my lord. The king’s attack dogs would like nothing better than an excuse to bring you down.”

  “Let them. I’ll take others down with me.” Ptah-mes’s grim expression lightened, and he said in a different tone, “Have you anything to report on your case?”

  Hani brought him up-to-date on his investigations, explaining how they seemed to have eliminated the Crocodiles from suspicion and could find no motive for the king. “That seems to leave Ay—and if he is the culprit, the investigation is over, because we can never bring him to justice. Unless, of course, he’s plotting behind the king’s back, in which case Nefer-khepru-ra would probably like to know about it.”

  “Have you any idea where that Mitannian has gone to ground?” the high commissioner asked. “If he’s still around, he’s probably planning something else.”

  “I don’t know, my lord. It’s one of the things we need to look into.” Hani tugged thoughtfully at his chin. “And it occurs to me that if he’s been selling off a lot of grave goods from wealthy tombs, we should be able to find traces of them on the market. Some must surely have names on them.”

  “Good idea. He may have taken them to sell elsewhere than Waset, though. Check the markets in Men-nefer and Hut-nen-nesut too. And our holy capital.” His voice was slick with sarcasm.

  “I’ll do that,” Hani said. “I need to take my daughter back to Hut-nen-nesut anyway, now that the holidays are ending.” The thought of Neferet awakened all sorts of anxieties, which Hani forced down.

  “Keep me posted, Hani.” Ptah-mes seemed to struggle to swallow, but his voice was cool and casual as he added, “I hope to see you at the funeral.”

  “Absolutely, my lord.”

  Hani left through the splendid gateway and trudged up the street past walled estates that might or might not have been inhabited. In any case, their proprietors had the gold to hire caretakers in their absence. Hani’s own less exalted neighborhood had not fared so well. He saw yet again—and with sorrow, as always—the down-at-heels emptied houses of midlevel bureaucrats who had once been his neighbors. Overhead, he spied a hawk planing high in the burning faience-blue sky.

  As soon as Hani had reached his own gate, A’a told him that Maya was within. Hani entered, slipped off his sandals, and savored the cool smoothness of the polished plaster floor under his feet as he padded into the salon.

  “Maya, my boy,” he said in greeting. “Are you ready to work? We have some new lines of inquiry to pursue.”

  “Ready, my lord,” the young man said brightly, adjusting his writing case over his shoulder.

  “We need Father too. I want him to revisit the families of the victims and find out what sort of objects were missing from the tombs. That will help
us track them down.”

  “Did I hear my name? Or rather, my title?” Mery-ra came toddling in from his apartments at the rear of the house. “That’s ‘reverend Father’ to you, Hani. I’ll also put up with ‘noble Father’ or ‘august Father.’”

  “Ah, just in time.” Hani outlined what he wanted Mery-ra to do. “Maya and I will go up to Hut-nen-nesut with Neferet, checking bazaars and shops on our way back. Talpu-sharri must have sold the goods, or why would he have stolen them? And, everyone—keep your eyes open for him.”

  “You’re leaving Neferet home by herself for weeks?” Mery-ra said dubiously. “She’ll have burned the house down.”

  Or worse, thought Hani. “You’ll be here, august Father. Your assignment won’t take more than an afternoon.” He and Maya headed out to the quay. “Downriver we go again, my friend.”

  ⸎

  They decided to return the girls first and make their visits to shops on the way back. Hani wasn’t altogether sure the stolen items would be out in the open market, but they had to check. It would be easier to do when Mery-ra got a list of the purloined objects from the families of the victims. They combed every bazaar and hole-in-the-wall dealing in precious items at Hut-nen-nesut, but with no luck.

  At Men-nefer, Hani drew Maya aside. “Let’s split up. We’ll make better time that way. You take the north side of the city, and I’ll take the south. We’ll meet at the boat whenever we both have covered the territory. All right?”

  “Right you are, my lord,” Maya replied, rubbing his hands together eagerly.

  As it turned out, many of the chicer shops had closed, following their wealthy clientele to the new capital. Maya found himself with only a handful to consider, and they were all clustered on one street opening into the market place. The first was extremely modest in size—mostly an awning extended over the narrow front of a building, with collapsible shelves upon which were ranged an assortment of old or used vessels of faience, bronze, and pottery. Under the suspicious eye of the proprietor, he glanced over the merchandise, but it was hard to imagine anything priceless showing up there.