Mentemtowe tossed it to the floor with a clatter, staring at it fearfully as if it might rise up and enchant him.
I glanced sideways at Duatentopet. Her hand rose to her mouth. I saw that she’d grasped I was lying to save her husband. Duatentopet had given me that amulet as a gift a week ago, as preparation for me replacing her as Khonsu’s chantress.
“Because of my spell His Majesty admitted me to his room the night his father was killed. The mission Tiye gave me was simple – I was to seduce and bed His Majesty. While I kept him occupied Mayernu was to sneak up behind him and stab him to death.” I glanced around the hall. “But His Majesty rejected me. His love for his wife overcame my magic.” That should convince them that Ramesses had never strayed from Duatentopet. “His Majesty pushed me aside just as Mayernu tried to stab him. Mayernu missed him and stabbed me instead. Kairy, a guard loyal to Pharaoh, entered the room and slew Mayernu.”
Now Kairy also knew I was lying.
It seemed as if everyone in the hall exhaled at once. I could tell they believed I’d been part of the conspiracy along with Tiye and Pentawere to assassinate Pharaoh and his heir. They believed Ramesses hadn’t been involved.
Tiye was not about to give up. “She lies!” Tiye hissed. “This story is just part of her plot with Ramesses, to place the blame elsewhere!”
Time to stop Tiye once and for all. “Excellency,” I said, addressing Mentemtowe. “I was to be Pentawere’s Great Wife when he became Pharaoh. Do you think I’d settle for being a gardener the rest of my life? I craved the luxury and power he promised me.” I tilted my head towards Tiye. “She testified I spent every night of the week before the assassination in Pentawere’s bed. I admit it.” I put my hand on my stomach. “That’s when Pentawere planted a child in my belly.”
The room filled with a cacophony of sound. Pentawere was stunned, Tiye numb. She and her son were doomed.
“You heard Pharaoh’s wife Tiye tell of all the clothes and jewels and perfumes Pentawere’s given me,” I practically shouted over the noise. “I wanted more, much more. I conspired with Pentawere and with Pharaoh’s Wife Tiye to kill Osiris–pharaoh Usermaatre–Meryamen and his son, Horus–pharaoh Usermaatre–Setpenamen. I know most of these criminals and they know me. I was in on the plot from the start. My life is over. I’ve given it away. I’ve spoken the truth.” I drew myself up. “I’d do it again!” I declared. “We all would!”
I’d convinced the judges and spectators. Ramesses and Duatentopet and Tiye and Pentawere and Kairy knew I’d lied but everyone else believed me. Kairy, I was certain, had figured out I’d lied specifically to change the outcome of my dream, as we’d discussed in the ruler’s cemetery in Nekhen. Everyone in the crowd seemed to be talking at once. The judges abandoned their chairs and huddled at one side of the hall, some gesturing, some dazed. I stared coolly at Tiye. I was going to be executed but Ramesses’ throne was secure and Tiye and Pentawere wouldn’t escape justice.
The judges finished conferring and resumed their seats.
“We are confident all the conspirators have been identified,” Mentemtowe announced. “We are convinced His Majesty had no part in the assassination of his father.”
Ramesses smiled grimly. Tears flowed down Duatentopet’s cheeks.
“Put the gardener in with the other prisoners,” Pefroi ordered.
Bunakhtef hurried to me and bound my wrists together so tightly with a length of leather they immediately began to throb. “Got what you deserved!” he said in a low voice. He shoved me ungently into the midst of the prisoners.
“We shall now pass judgment,” Mentemtowe said. “Bring forward the great criminal, formerly chief of the chamber, Pebekkamen.”
Two guards took hold of Pebekkamen’s arms and propelled him from the group of prisoners to the open area before the dais. He limped noticeably. His back was covered with purple welts, some with dried blood on their edges. His filthy kilt was spattered with his blood. It almost sickened me to look at him. He stood with head bowed.
“You’re here because you colluded with Tiye and the women of the harem,” said Pefroi, consulting the papyrus containing the charges. “You made common cause with them and carried their words to their mothers and brothers. ‘Stir up the people! Incite enemies to hostility against Pharaoh!’ you said. You were brought before us, the great nobles of the kenbet of examination. We examined your crimes. We found that you committed them. Your crimes seized you. We, the nobles who examined you, bring your judgment upon you.”
Mentemtowe addressed him. “Pebekkamen, for your crimes you shall be burned alive and your ashes strewn in the street.”
“No!” Pebekkamen cried. “No! No! Excellencies – please!”
A host of criminals added their voices to Pebekkamen’s, knowing his fate would be theirs.
I caught my breath. I was struck by the brutality and horror of the sentence. Pebekkamen could only attain an Afterlife if his body was mummified and preserved so that his ba could return to it. Fire would kill him both in this world and the next. The day he burned he’d suffer complete personal annihilation. As would I. No fate could be worse.
The guards dragged Pebekkamen back to the rest of us, kicking and screaming. Harshly, they threw him to the floor in our midst. Sobbing, he covered his face with his tied hands and curled into the fetal position.
Mentemtowe consulted his list. “Bring forward the great criminal, formerly a butler, Mesedsure.”
Mesedsure could not fully straighten. He rested his hands on his knees and kept his eyes on the ground. There were lacerations on his back from the wooden rod used to obtain his confession, all crusted with dried blood. Based on the number of lacerations he’d withstood his questioning for a considerable time.
“You colluded with Pebekkamen, chief of the chamber, and with the women of the harem to stir up enemies against Pharaoh,” charged Pefroi. “We examined your crimes. We found you guilty. You too shall die by fire.”
“Bring forward the great criminal, formerly overseer of Pharaoh’s harem, Peynok,” said Mentemtowe.
I’d encountered him many times on my daily flower deliveries to Djeme’s per’aa. I remembered him as a friendly and decent man. I wondered what lies Tiye and Pentawere had told to make him hate Ramesses and Pharaoh enough to want them dead. I wondered what they’d promised him that he’d willingly betrayed them.
“You made common cause with Pebekkamen and Mesedsure to commit hostility against Pharaoh,” said Pefroi. “You are guilty. You will die by fire.”
“Bring forward the great criminal, formerly scribe of Pharaoh’s harem, Pendua.”
“You made common cause with Pebekkamen and Mesedsure and the women of the harem. You conspired with them to commit hostility against Pharaoh. You shall burn.”
“Bring forward the great criminal, formerly inspector of the harem, Petewnteamon.”
“You heard these criminals discuss what they were going to do with the women of the harem but did not report them. You shall die by fire.”
“Bring forward the great criminal, formerly captain of archers, Binemwese,” ordered Mentemtowe.
I recalled his treasonous words after one of Pentawere’s parties, how he’d denigrated Ramesses for failing to engage in a war of conquest against the valley’s neighbors.
“You received a letter from your sister, Heket, a concubine in the harem,” spat Pefroi. “She told you to incite the people of Wawat and Kush to hostility and for you to begin hostility against Pharaoh. You did not report this. You too shall burn.”
Heket fainted.
“Bring forward the great criminal, formerly scribe of the house of sacred writings, Messui.”
“You colluded with Pebekkamen, Peyes, and Pentawere. You knew this crime was about to be committed but did not report it. You have been found guilty by this Great Kenbet. Since your collusion is considered a lesser crime you shall take your own life.”
If a condemned man could look relieved, Messui did.
Suic
ide was a much milder sentence than burning. Messui would have an Afterlife. His death would be far less painful and humiliating, carried out in private. The same sentence was passed on the overseer Perekamenef; Iroi, overseer of the tomb of Sekhmet; and Shedmeszer, scribe of the house of sacred writings.
Suicide also awaited five inspectors of the harem – Kerpes, Khamopet, Khammale, Setimperthoth, and Setimperamon – also for failing to report what they’d heard the harem women discussing. Similarly Weren, a butler, Eshehebsed, Pebekkamen’s assistant, Peluka, a Lycian butler and scribe of the treasury, and Yenini, a Tjehenuian butler, were convicted for failing to report Pebekkamen’s words. Pere, overseer of the treasury, was sentenced to burn for conspiring with Penhuibin to stir up enemies against Pharaoh.
“Bring forward the great criminal, formerly a butler, Henutenamon.”
He’d accompanied Ramesses and me to Ta Set Neferu during the Beautiful Feast. He’d seemed to be a pious man. I’d been wrong about him.
“You went freely among the women of Pharaoh’s harem. You heard them conspire against His Majesty and did not report them. You have been found guilty. You shall take your own life.”
“Bring forward the great criminal, formerly deputy commander of the army, Peyes,” Mentemtowe said.
I glanced at Pharaoh. Peyes had been his right–hand man in war and peace for more than a decade. Pharaoh’s mouth was set in a grim line. Peyes’ betrayal was particularly bitter. Peyes couldn’t walk or stand on his own. Both feet were heavily bandaged. Two prisoners supported him.
“You colluded with Pebekkamen and Pentawere,” said Pefroi. “You knew this crime was about to be committed but did not report it. You have been found guilty by this Kenbet. You shall take your own life.”
“Bring forward the great criminal Mai, formerly scribe of the archives and judge of this Great Kenbet,” ordered Mentemtowe. “Bring forward the great criminal Pebes, formerly a butler and judge of this Great Kenbet. Bring forward the great criminal Teynakhte, formerly an officer of infantry, and Oneney, formerly a captain of police.” He scanned the group of prisoners. “Bring forward the women of the harem.”
Guards with lances prodded the six women across the front of the hall to stand next to the men. Several seemed about to faint. Their faces were ashen and cheeks stained with tears. Naqi’a, Pentawere’s wife, watched fearfully; I wondered how much of the trial she even understood. If Pentawere was to be believed, she still couldn’t speak our language. Her translator, Abi–rami, was sobbing. Of all the criminals those two alone had my sympathy. I doubted if Naqi’a had even known what was going on when Tiye summoned her to sleep with the judges. Abi–rami wouldn’t have been given a choice either. Pentawere didn’t even glance at his wife.
Mentemtowe stared hard at the guilty. “You, Teynakhte, and you, Oneney, let these women, who were prisoners, out of confinement to sleep with the judges. And you…” – he glared at Mai and Pebes – “selected by Pharaoh himself to render justice in this case, were caught carousing naked with these women.”
Pefroi addressed the men. “Pebes and Mai, the guards shall cut off your ears and noses because you forsook Pharaoh’s instructions that were spoken to you. Teynakhte and Oneney – the guards shall also cut off your ears and noses.” Pefroi scanned the faces of the women. His voice grew hard. “You seduced men who were sitting in judgment in this Great Kenbet and were found naked with them in your rooms. For this you shall all burn.”
Abi–rami screamed. One woman kept herself from collapsing by seizing the arm of a guard. Naqi’a guessed her fate from the reaction of the others and shouted something in her own tongue. The guards pushed them all back into the group of prisoners.
“Bring forward the great criminal Hori, formerly standard–bearer of infantry,” directed Mentemtowe over the wailing of the women.
Pefroi leaned back in his chair, looked down the row of judges to his right and to his left, then back to Hori. “You alone of all these accused have been found innocent. You may go.”
Hori did not waste a moment exiting the hall.
“Bring forward the great criminal, formerly overseer of herds, Penhuibin.”
I shivered as he approached the dais, flanked by two guards. Penhuibin’s magic had proven to be great indeed, to have enabled the conspirators to slip past the guards and kill Pharaoh and nearly kill Ramesses. Was he strong enough to cast spells on them all even now?
“You commissioned the making of magic items,” Pefroi charged. “You employed the magic powers of a god upon the guards of the per’aa. You made crocodiles of wax, inscribing them, in order that they might be taken into Their Majesties’ rooms by El–ram, the inspector of the harem, and Pebekkamen, the chief of the chamber, to hinder one group of guards and bewitch another, so that traitors who sought to kill Osiris–pharaoh Usermaatre–Meryamen and Horus–pharaoh Usermaatre–Setpenamen – life, prosperity, health – might have no opposition. We examined you concerning this, and truth was found in every crime and in every evil deed that your heart devised to do. You did them all, together with the other great criminals, the abomination of every god and every goddess. For this you shall burn.”
“Bring forward the great criminal, formerly inspector of the harem, El–ram.”
“You placed magic items beneath the bed of Osiris–pharaoh Usermaatre–Meryamen. This Great Kenbet has found you guilty. You shall burn.”
“Bring forward the great criminal and concubine, Heket.”
She’d been revived. She was crying. Two guards were holding her upright.
Pharaoh’s knuckles were white on his crook and flail again.
Every member of the royal family was glaring at her, the woman who’d murdered husband and father and uncle and grandfather.
“You slew Pharaoh with a knife, depriving the living god who had given you everything of his earthly life. For this you shall burn.”
Shouts of assent from the crowd.
Then came the moment all had been waiting for – the sentencing of Tiye and Pentawere. She strode vigorously to the area in front of the judges, not waiting for the guards to prod her there, pulling her son along by a hand. She stared at each judge in turn, imperiously. Pentawere kept his eyes downcast, his spirit broken now that he faced consequences for what he’d done. I snuck a glance at Pharaoh. He was staring at them with utter disdain.
Mentemtowe addressed Pentawere. “You are charged with colluding with your mother, Tiye, when she spoke with the women of the harem, being hostile against Pharaoh and his father, Osiris–pharaoh Usermaatre–Meryamen, justified. You are charged with ordering the death of your father and the attack on your brother. You have been examined before this Great Kenbet and found guilty.” Mentemtowe stood. He looked down from the height of the dais at the two before him. “You are the great abominations of this land. You, Tiye, shall take your own life,” he said solemnly. “You, Pentawere, shall be bound hand and foot and hung in Djeme’s courtyard.”
A low hum spread through the hall. Ramesses and the dead pharaoh’s wives congratulated each other, satisfied. I saw nodding heads in the crowd.
Pefroi stood. “Both your names, and all evidence that either of you ever lived, shall be erased from every monument and temple and tomb and document in the valley, so that the gods themselves shall forget you ever existed.”
It was a fate nearly as bad as burning, if less painful. Though, unless the scribes recording the trial excised every mention of Tiye and Pentawere they would in fact live on. I couldn’t help glance at Pentawere. I’d loved him. He’d loved me. If not for the ambitions of his mother, I thought, none of this would have happened. Pharaoh would still be alive. Ramesses would still be heir. Pentawere would have a long life before him, to be continued in the Afterlife. I had no sympathy for Tiye, who’d taken everything from her son. She deserved the sentence she’d received.
“Bring forward the great criminal, Neset,” Mentemtowe said.
I stepped forward on my own, met his gaze unflinching. I’d
accepted my fate.
“You have confessed to great crimes, Neset. Your own words have convicted you.” Mentemtowe’s voice rose in volume. “You shall burn before the walls of Djeme.”
I sobbed involuntarily. Knowing I’d be sentenced to burn was one thing. Having it happen quite another.
“Your ashes shall be spread in the street. Your name shall be erased and forgotten forever, even by the gods.”
Those assembled cheered the sentence and jeered me.
A wild triumphant cry issued from Tiye’s lips.
Pentawere gazed at me, sorrowful.
The reality of Mentemtowe’s sentence hit me hard. Excruciating pain, followed by oblivion. After faithfully serving the falcon god for four millennia my line was going to end with me. Even the god would not remember me. I heard Duatentopet pleading tearfully with Pharaoh to do something. I dared not look in his direction. If I did, and he took pity on me and tried to intercede on my behalf, he’d cast doubt on my confession and put his own life in jeopardy.
“You must delay Neset’s sentence.” Iset had risen from the throne next to Pharaoh.
The hall fell silent.
Why was she interceding on my behalf? What kind of delay?
“Majesty?” Pefroi asked, turning around to look at her.
“Neset is pregnant. You cannot slay her innocent child. Its blood is royal. Who knows what the gods would do to everyone in this valley if you murder it?”
That prompted heated discussions throughout the hall. Judges conferred once again. Their discussion was heated too.
The faintest glimmer of hope. My child might live. I might have a descendant to pass the talisman to after all. My line might continue. Or not. Would Iset’s charge move enough of the judges to grant me temporary clemency?
They gradually resumed their seats.
“Perhaps a delay is called for,” Mentemtowe said uncertainly.
“Such an exemption has never been made before!” Vizier Neferronpet thundered from behind the royal family. “Neset must die right away!”
The Gardener and the Assassin Page 65
