Scepter of Flint

by N. L. Holmes

  Dread sank like a rock into Hani’s stomach. “You’re right. We must warn Ptah-mes to put a guard on it.”

  “All the robbed tombs had guards, Hani,” said his father.

  “Reliable guards. I’ll offer to take the night watch myself.”

  Mery-ra and Maya exchanged a look. Mery-ra said, “Then I’m coming to keep you company. Things could get dangerous.”

  “Count me in, too, my lord,” Maya added stoutly.

  Hani turned to his father. “You and Pa-kiki and Maya take the women back. I need to talk to Ptah-mes.”

  The others left as part of the throng that flowed down to the riverside. Hani saw below him Lord Ptah-mes’s yacht drawn up against the muddy slope where the water of the River was low. It had borne Lady Apeny’s khat from the land of the living to the Mountains of the West, but it would go back without her. He turned and began the rocky ascent to the cliffs once more.

  The wind had come up in the late afternoon, lifting little clouds of ocher dust that trailed Hani’s footsteps like an ostrich tail. The servants, priests, and dancers had departed. Only a watchman and Ptah-mes stood beside the sealed tomb, the latter unmoving as a statue.

  “My lord,” Hani called tentatively, and Ptah-mes turned, his kohl-rimmed eyes as dead as those painted on the coffin. “My lord, it’s Hani.” He wasn’t sure if his superior had even registered who was approaching him. “I think you should be aware that Lady Apeny’s tomb may be targeted by the robbers. I would like to keep guard personally over it at night for a while, if you approve.”

  “I’ll stay with you,” said Ptah-mes dully.

  “Then I’ll be here at nightfall.” Hani dared to clasp Ptah-mes’s forearm. “Don’t forget to eat something,” he said in a quieter voice, full of concern.

  He descended the slope again. Hani looked back once to see if Ptah-mes was coming, but he saw no one. He’ll probably stand right there until dusk, he thought with a sigh.

  ⸎

  Maya was ready when Lord Hani called out, “Come on, men.” Lord Mery-ra emerged from the kitchen with his rocking gait and heavy shoulders, looking downright menacing with a club in his hand, and the four sturdy litter bearers stood to attention. Hani had pressed them into service as a safety measure, and it made Maya feel better. Hani was a stout comrade in arms; however, Maya had his doubts about Hani’s sixty-seven-year-old father, no matter how formidable he appeared. And Maya—well, his courage left nothing to be desired, but he wasn’t very big.

  Carrying torches and tallow lanterns, they trooped down to the River, and to the astonishment of their ferryman, the body of armed men set off for the West just as the sun was setting in their faces.

  Maya tapped his bronze rod against his leg. He meant business.

  They disembarked with a clatter and a clang, holding up the torches, which suddenly seemed small against the immensity of the night sky. Navigating the trail, with its rocks rolling underfoot, was hard going, and Hani took his father’s arm and steadied him on the steep ground. Maya thought that they all would probably make better progress on hands and knees; the path, which was taxing in daylight, was positively perilous in darkness.

  Somehow, they found themselves at last at the foot of the cliffs and turned south toward Lady Apeny’s tomb. A lone torch was flickering at the mouth, a brave little star of orange light against the devouring velvet night. Maya could see Lord Ptah-mes in a short kilt and serviceable shirt—none of the usual floating caftans and full sleeves and fashionable gathering of pleats—with a wicked-looking battle-ax in his hand.

  Hani greeted him. “My lord, we have here enough men to scare any band of robbers away. I suggest we extinguish our torches and cover the lanterns. I would rather the criminals come and we catch them than that they not come.”

  The flickering light transmogrified Ptah-mes’s eye sockets into the deep black pools of a skull’s eyes. He tipped his head in acquiescence and ground out his torch on the soil but said nothing.

  “How do you want us grouped, Hani?” asked Mery-ra. “All at the mouth of the tomb or scattered around to surprise anyone who comes?”

  “Why don’t our stalwarts stay here in front, and the rest of us can hide here and there? The last tombs to be robbed were broken into from ground level, over the passageways, but here we have the cliff overhead, so I’m not sure where they’ll strike. If you see anything at all, men, give a whistle. The rest of us will uncover our lanterns and come running.” He reached out and took his father’s arm, drawing him to one side. “You to the left here, Father. Maya—same side but farther up. Lord Ptah-mes, with your permission, you and I will take this side.”

  “As you see fit,” Ptah-mes said expressionlessly. “You’re directing this maneuver.”

  Groping his way up the rocky slope on all fours, Maya followed Lord Mery-ra. As Maya’s eyes adjusted, the starshine began to shed a pale half-light over the landscape, ghostly and surreal. That reminded him of all the dead who surrounded them. Are the bas of the men who were robbed angry? Vengeful? A shiver ran up his back that had nothing to do with the fast-descending chill of night in the desert.

  He cleared himself a flat spot free of stones and settled there with a big rock at his back—the area was too exposed to hunker down out in the open where anyone could sneak quietly up from behind. He sat, and time passed. The familiar sounds of night on the banks of the River were absent—no frogs, no crickets, only the dry, scurrying footsteps of the wind and its eerie moan among the cliffs. Maya heard an occasional scuffle that he hoped was Lord Mery-ra changing positions. His imagination began to people the darkness with lions and jackals that stealthily drew closer, and he gripped his bronze rod in both fists. His senses seemed superhumanly alert. His heart pounded with expectation, and even the hair on his arms stood to attention. He felt that something was going to happen at any moment...

  But when he awoke, stiff and dry mouthed, the sun was coming up in his eyes, and the chill of night was ebbing fast. He saw Lords Ptah-mes and Hani standing below near the mouth of the tomb, talking head to head. The soldiers were gathering the torches. Next to Maya, Mery-ra lay on his side, snoring.

  Maya scrambled to his feet and dusted off the sand that had gathered on him. “Lord Mery-ra,” he called. “Everyone’s up. Our watch is over for the night.”

  While Hani’s father heaved himself to a sitting position, Maya descended the slope to the others. Hani looked up and smiled wearily. “No tomb robbers last night. But we won’t let up. We’ll be back tomorrow night, Lord Ptah-mes.”

  Ptah-mes, who looked a hundred years older than he had only days before, nodded somberly. “I’ll stay here until the day guards arrive. Thank you, Hani.”

  They left him staring pensively out over the desert. Mery-ra had joined them, and they scuffed down the rocky pathway toward the River.

  “I feel as if I’ve been beaten,” groaned Mery-ra. “It couldn’t have been worse if we’d actually had to fight off the tomb robbers.”

  Hani chuckled. “Nobody’s making you do this, Father.”

  “Well, as long as I can get some sleep during the day, I’m still in.”

  “One thing I’d like to do today is find out more about Ay. And also that soldier Pipi told about our intent to arrest Talpu-sharri. Whoever he is, he seems to be in with them. Maybe we can follow him and learn our Mitannian’s whereabouts.”

  Scratching his head skeptically, Maya said, “Lord Hani, didn’t we arrest all of the artisans who broke into those tombs? Who does Talpu-sharri intend to use if he’s aiming at Lady Apeny’s? A whole new group of the men who worked on it?”

  “There aren’t many of them left, I grant you,” Hani said as they approached the bank of the River. “And you’d think they’d be a little skittish, since they saw us drag away their colleagues.”

  They were tramping up the gangplank of their ferry when Mery-ra cried, “Oh, Hani, I’ve never told you about my second visit with families of the victims.”

  “That’s right. W
e’ve been so busy I forget what needs to be done. How did they go?”

  Mery-ra struggled unsuccessfully to conceal a grin. “They were ve-e-ery fruitful, as our girl would say. I did get a list of the stolen goods for you, and I found out how the other two men died. Sa-tau had an apoplectic fit, like Ah-mes. Pa-ren-nefer died of the plague. But the most interesting information came from the servants.”

  Hani crowed. “We should have thought of that sooner. What did you find out?”

  “Well, Pa-ren-nefer, too, received more than one visit from our foreign friend.” Hani and Maya exchanged a triumphal glance, and Mery-ra continued. “And Sa-tau held secret meetings at his house from time to time. And who do you think was one of his guests?” He waited until the others’ baffled looks and impatient murmurs had mounted sufficiently before he said with a smirk, “Pirissi.”

  “You’ve got be joking!” cried Lord Hani, his jaw hanging open.

  Maya was so shocked he could hardly find his words. “If... if they were in cahoots with Sa-tau, why did they rob his tomb?”

  But Hani held up a hand. “We don’t know this had anything to do with the tomb robberies.”

  “Hani.” His father snorted. “What else could it have been? Why should a Mitannian attaché pay a visit to a private citizen?” They lurched as the boat cast off from the shore and slipped into the stream.

  Maya was confused. “Why were Mitannians involved at all in Ay’s scheming? What did Pirissi have to do with Talpu-sharri? He seemed not even to know what he looked like.”

  “Of course, surprise can be counterfeited,” Hani said thoughtfully. “What role did the Osir Sa-tau play in the government, Father?”

  “He was the keeper of the Double House of Silver and Gold. The treasurer.”

  Maya whistled, impressed. This business involves the cream of the elite. But what is this business? “I can’t tell the good side from the bad,” he said, pushing back his wig and scratching his head.

  Mery-ra smiled. “Wait, boys. I’ve saved the best for last. One of Sa-tau’s servants gave me a little clay cup with some liquid inside that he said didn’t belong to the household. He said he saw it for the first time the night Lord Sa-tau died.”

  “You know, my friends,” said Hani in a serious tone, “this is beginning to sound like more than tomb robbing. I think we have a case of serial murder.”

  CHAPTER 11

  “I HAVE TO SPEAK TO Ptah-mes right away. His wife’s tomb may not be the only thing in danger—he may be too,” Hani added after the long space during which the others had absorbed his words in shocked silence.

  “But surely, he has had nothing to do with the Mitannians. He would certainly have said so, son,” Mery-ra objected, looking befuddled.

  Hani shrugged, feeling just as confused as his father. “He’s had a lot on his mind in the last seventy days. Perhaps he forgot or didn’t think it was important.”

  “Hmm,” said Mery-ra skeptically.

  But Hani was already leaning over to tap the steersman on the knee. “Turn around, please.”

  The man gave him a look that suggested Hani was touched by the sun, but he leaned on his steering oar, and the boat began to turn ponderously in midstream, rocking them around as the sail emptied and then refilled. The day was well underway, the pearly sunrise yielding to the staggering brightness of midmorning. Ibises rose in an explosion of flashing white and black from the marshes. How I’d like to be out watching that peaceful race of shore birds, Hani thought with a sigh. Instead I’m tracking our own murderous kind.

  He stepped ashore on the west bank once more, and Maya and Mery-ra pushed off for Waset, leaving Hani to engage another ferry for when he should finish. Hani trudged the arduous way back up the slope to the base of the cliffs, where he saw Ptah-mes still standing at the doorway of his wife’s tomb, leaning his head on his forearm against the sealing stones. The day watchman sat on a rock in the shade of an outcropping, a gourd of water at his side.

  “My lord,” cried Hani. “I have some more information for you.”

  Ptah-mes raised his head and stood up straight. He shaded his eyes against the sun and said uncertainly, “Hani? Is that you?”

  Hani mounted the last of the slope in long strides and presented himself to his superior, panting. “It is. My father just told me some new facts, and I need you to illuminate them for me.”

  “Don’t look to me for much light, my friend,” said Ptah-mes aridly.

  “Did you ever meet the Mitannian adjutant named Pirissi? A young man, tall and corpulent. A pleasant, well-spoken fellow. Clean-shaven.”

  “I did, Hani.” He looked desolate. “Forgive me my faulty memory. That was right before... he actually came to see Apeny, to talk about music.”

  “He must have come immediately after I freed them from jail. I sent them back to Waset, where they were staying with Mane.”

  “That sounds about right. I didn’t hear the whole conversation, of course—she had her life, and I had mine—but the part I heard was definitely about music. I actually congratulated him on his liberty. He said he would like to talk to me too.”

  Hani thought in anguish, How can I tell him Pirissi might have been the cause of his wife’s death? But Apeny had died of sickness, not from a wound. Just as had the other three men whose tombs were robbed. The grandees in particular were old, and a plague was raging. No one had to have murdered them for them to drop dead. Yet still... there was that mysterious cup.

  “That’s all you heard, my lord?”

  “I’m almost sure, Hani,” he said, untying his mourning scarf for the first time, as if he’d forgotten he was still wearing it after the burial. “Although I can’t trust my recollections anymore. There seems to be a black chasm surrounding her death.”

  That’s because you were dead drunk, Hani thought in pity. He tried not to remember Ptah-mes as he had been at that meeting.

  “I wanted to warn you, my lord, that I suspect the three robbing victims may have been murdered somehow, even though their deaths appeared natural. Each of them seems to have talked with Pirissi or Talpu-sharri shortly before he died suddenly—it’s too much coincidence. Were they involved in some plot? Were they witnesses to something? And now it seems that Lady Apeny may have had the same involvement. Just be careful.”

  “It would be a favor to the world to kill me, Hani,” Ptah-mes said expressionlessly.

  Hani winced. “We need you, Lord Ptah-mes,” he said quietly, his heart going out to his friend. “Now more than ever, we need good men.”

  “Good luck finding one.”

  ⸎

  “I need to talk to a doctor,” Hani said.

  Nub-nefer looked up at him, her kohl-edged eyes wide with sudden fright. The two of them sat together at their little table for dinner. “Dear gods, you’re not sick, are you?”

  “No, no, my dear. But I need to know something medical that has to do with this grave-robbing case.”

  “I’m sure Neferet can help you.”

  “She’s not here.”

  “No, but she will be for the long holidays of midsummer.” Nub-nefer laid a hand on Hani’s. He was grateful that they had not confronted Neferet and driven her away.

  Hani laughed. “When do we ever work in this country? Very well, my dear, I’ll wait. She should be back within days. I wonder if her friend is coming with her.”

  Nub-nefer’s face stiffened, but she managed to return her husband’s smile. “Will you, too, be able to take a holiday for a change, Hani? You’ve worked constantly on this case with never a break.” She squeezed his hand.

  Hani sighed. “I fear there’s a deadline on this, my dove. Apeny’s tomb is likely to be robbed, and I’m afraid Ptah-mes may be a target for a killer.”

  Her eyebrows twisted with distress. “Why should the life of a scribe be so full of dangers? I thought it would be better when you transferred from the army. But when you’re not off at the ends of the earth, someone is shooting arrows at you. You’re nearly fifty, H
ani.”

  “Too true, alas. But the men in my family live a very long time.” He seized her hand and brought it to his lips. “You should have seen Father out in the Mountains of the West, sleeping rough with the best of them.”

  “Ah! Ah! You didn’t say ‘reverend Father’!” cried Mery-ra from the doorway.

  “And the men of my family move quietly despite their size,” Hani added loudly. He drew over a stool for Mery-ra. “Listening in on our conversation, were you?”

  “Innocent of charges. I was napping all morning. That’s what sleeping rough at night does to you.”

  “Oh, no, he wasn’t listening.” Nub-nefer grinned.

  Mery-ra leaned over Hani’s dish and extracted a slice of pickled turnip. “I love these.” He crunched it down and smacked his lips while Hani and Nub-nefer watched in amusement. “What’s next in our investigation?”

  “I suppose we need to ask if Pa-aten-em-heb’s cavalry friend can tell us anything about Ay that might be significant. I admit the thought of sniffing around the god’s father gives me palpitations.”

  “Hmm,” muttered Mery-ra, spearing a bread crust with Hani’s knife.

  “If you want lunch, you’re welcome to it,” said Nub-nefer.

  Hani rose from the table and bade his wife and father good day. “I’m off to the barracks.”

  But Nub-nefer put a hand on his arm. “Why don’t we invite Pa-aten-em-heb for dinner? You said you were in debt to him. And Pa-kiki and Mut-nodjmet can come too.”

  ⸎

  That evening, Hani was supervising the turning of the spits in the kitchen court when he heard voices from the salon. He wiped his sooty hands and made his way into the house. Oil lamps flickered, their little lights like yellow fireflies.

  “Ah, Pa-aten-em-heb! Good to see you, my friend,” Hani cried at the sight of the young officer. “But you’re alone—we wanted to meet your wife, the other Mut-nodjmet.”

  “I’m as sorry as you are, my lord,” Pa-aten-em-heb said with a crooked smile. “But she’s pregnant and hasn’t been feeling well. She’s lost so many children. We just didn’t want...”