“Sit,” I said.
She settled with her back against the side of the birth bower. She gently rocked her son back and forth.
“The men guarding this estate believe a woman named Neset gave birth to a baby boy a few hours ago.”
“The same woman Alara tried to kidnap?” Maia asked, amazed.
I nodded. “A few days after that attack I was contacted by a priest named Neby. He belongs to a group of traitors that intends to challenge Pharaoh for his throne. Pharaoh and I talked over ways to defeat the traitors. Pharaoh decided that I should deliver Neset’s son to Neby and pretend to be part of his conspiracy.” Not the exact sequence of events, but the spirit of what had happened. There was no time to tell Maia the full story in detail. “I’m supposed to live among the traitors until I can identify them and report their names to Pharaoh so he can arrest them.” That was as much as I was willing to disclose – telling Maia I’d been ordered to kill Neset’s son was guaranteed to end her cooperation on the spot.
“But tonight you’re going to deliver my son to Neby instead. Why?”
“Neset gave birth to a daughter, Maia. I need a boy to make the plan work.”
“So what now? The three of us sneak away from this estate and go find Neby and disappear?”
“It’s more complicated than that. Neset was sentenced by a Great Kenbet to be burned as soon as she gave birth. I couldn’t let that happen, Maia. So I just helped her escape, along with her daughter.”
“Why? Are you in love with her?”
A reasonable conclusion. “No, Maia. We’re very distantly related. That’s all. Almost three millennia ago we shared a common ancestor. Actually, Neset despises me – with cause. But I admire her more than I’ve ever admired anyone. She’s the bravest person I’ve ever known. Plus, she has the favor of Horus. It wasn’t right that men sentenced to death a woman favored by a god. So I put her and her daughter Aya on a boat less than half an hour ago. They’re fleeing to safety even now. If my plan works they’ll escape this estate and no one will ever know they’re alive. So, in a few minutes, I’m going to try to convince my guards that Neset died in childbirth, and then burn that body in her place.” I indicated the bundle on the other side of the bower.
“Neset and her daughter get to go free, while my son and I are for all practical purposes going to be prisoners of the traitors?”
“Yes. I’m going to use you and your son to save Neset and Aya. That’s the truth of it, Maia.”
“That’s not fair!”
“I know it’s not. But you agreed.”
“As if I had a choice.” Her eyes flashed.
“I suppose you do now, Maia. Have a choice. You know every detail of my plan. You can call my guards right now and tell them I’ve switched babies. They’ll let you and your son go free. They’ll kill me. They’ll hunt down Neset and Aya and kill them. When I don’t deliver your son to Neby tonight the traitors will find another boy and claim he’s Pentawere’s son and use him to challenge Pharaoh sometime in the future. Pharaoh will never see them coming because he won’t know who the traitors are. He’ll lose his throne.”
Maia looked down at her son, stroked his arm. “Saving Pharaoh’s really up to me? The widow of a man who committed treason?”
“In a very real way.”
“How long do you think it’ll take to identify all the traitors, Kairy?”
“With luck, quickly.”
“Or it could drag out for years?”
“It could. I hope not.”
She squared her shoulders, looked up at me. “Thank you for telling me, Kairy. I’ll honor my promise.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Maia.” I felt even more guilty. She’d just sentenced her son and possibly herself to death, without knowing. I hated myself for withholding a very important part of my plan. But I had to. I needed her son more than she needed the truth.
Maia tilted her head towards the corpse. “Whose body are you going to burn in place of Neset’s?”
“Bunakhtef. He was the leader of the men who tried to kidnap Neset from her estate.”
“That monster?” Maia exclaimed. “He recruited Alara. He came to our farm many times. He was always trying to take liberties with me when Alara wasn’t around. I couldn’t stand him. I’ll never forget him. He had a nasty scar on his cheek.”
I couldn’t help laugh. “Neset gave him that with his own knife one night when he tried to have his way with her.”
“It’s justice, then,” Maia said cheerfully.
I stood. “Time for us to play our parts. Are you ready?”
“I am.”
We exited the bower, Maia holding her son close. We moved slowly up the path and stopped halfway to the house in the middle section of the garden.
“Ibi!” I called loudly.
He was my deputy. He oversaw the men who guarded the estate by day. With things coming to a head tonight, all of my guards were on duty. Ibi hurried to me, his torch bobbing, his khepesh and knife clanking at his waist. He eyed Maia and her baby suspiciously.
“Commander?”
“Bring me two guards who aren’t superstitious,” I ordered.
“May I ask why, Commander?”
“The witch is bleeding to death in the bower. Complications. She won’t live until dawn.”
“Who’s this?” Ibi asked.
“I’m the wetnurse for the witch’s son,” Maia volunteered.
She’d embraced her role. Telling her my plan had been a good thing. “The boy will need to feed on the way to Djeme,” I said. “I don’t intend to deliver a wailing starving baby to Pharaoh.”
“Of course, Commander.”
One hurdle passed.
“Can you believe it, Ibi?” I asked familiarly. “My brother and sister and the witch’s attendant have already fled on his boat. They’re so desperate to put distance between them and the witch they’ve pushed off in the dark. They don’t want the witch’s ka to attack them when she dies. They fear her ka more than they fear a hippo or crocodile or sandbar in the channel. So, bring me two guards who don’t believe that magic lingers in a dead witch’s body, or that simply looking on a dead witch’s face will haunt them for the rest of their lives.”
“Make sure they’re willing to touch the body of a woman who’s given birth and hasn’t been ritually purified for fourteen days too,” Maia interjected.
“Commander, no guard on this estate will get anywhere near the witch. I guarantee you.”
Good. My months of fear–mongering were working. “Someone has to carry her corpse from the bower,” I said sternly.
“Not any of us, Commander,” Ibi said defiantly.
I glared at him.
He was much shorter than me. He met my glare. He crossed his arms defiantly.
“By the gods! I’ll do it myself then!” I huffed, outwardly angry, internally exulting. “Order a guard to gather every linen sheet in the house and bring them all to me so I can wrap the body to keep you and your delicate men from seeing any part of the witch. And set guards to piling wood in the garden and soaking it with oil. We’ll burn her here, not carry her all the way to Djeme.”
“Understood, Commander.” Ibi sounded relieved.
“Take the boy and the wetnurse to the veranda. Be careful with him – his blood’s royal. Make sure the woman has food and drink. She needs to keep up her strength. I’ll wait here for the linen, then I’ll wrap the witch and carry her body to the pyre.”
“Understood, Commander.”
“Get going!” I ordered.
Ibi and Maia and her son moved towards the house, the torch bobbing once again. So far, so good. I waited on the path. A group of guards began arranging a pyre of wood. Soon one approached from inside the house, his arms laden.
“Here’s the linen, Commander.”
One last diversion. “Put it in the bower for me.”
The guard hesitated. “Respectfully, Commander…”
“Give it to me!
” I snatched it from his hand. I strode to the bower and entered. The plan was working perfectly. The guards weren’t going to interfere with me.
I’d wrapped Bunakhtef in linen before I buried him on the estate the night of the attack, but that linen was now filthy with sand. I took the first strip of linen and began winding it around his corpse, slowly. I wanted to give Ani plenty of time to get far away in case my deception was discovered. If any of my guards questioned how long I was taking I could claim I was still waiting for Neset to die.
After I finished leisurely wrapping Bunakhtef I lifted him and, carrying him over a shoulder, proceeded up the garden path to where a waist–high pile of wood waited. The guards standing nearby shuffled backwards as I approached. With a disgusted grunt I tossed the body atop the pile. One guard was holding a lit torch; he showed no sign of carrying it to me, so I went to him and yanked it from his hand. Then I tossed it onto the pile. The well–soaked wood immediately burst into flame. In only a moment the corpse was completely engulfed.
I summoned Ibi. “Wait until the fire burns out. Then scatter the ashes in the river. Send the witch to oblivion.”
“Yes, Commander.”
“Then march all the guards back to Djeme. Go the per’aa and report directly to Pharaoh and me. We’ll be expecting you.”
“Yes, Commander.”
“Now, bring me the wetnurse and the boy.”
In a moment Maia joined me, clutching her son. I took him from her arms, pulled back the linen wrapping, held him up and showed him to the guards. His skin glowed in the firelight. “A fine boy for Pharaoh. His nephew.” I handed him back to Maia. Then we casually strolled down the garden path to the riverbank and headed in the direction of Djeme.
Morning was approaching. Re would soon leap over the horizon. We picked our way carefully along the deeply–trod riverside path in the predawn light. We’d gone less than half a mile when Neby rose from a patch of tall grass.
“You have the boy?”
Maia pulled back the linen.
“Ah! Pentawere, second of his name!” Neby exclaimed.
Maia stiffened slightly. Denied naming her own son.
“You didn’t say anything about bringing a woman, Kairy,” Neby said, looking Maia up and down.
“How do you plan to feed him, My Lord?” she asked scathingly, sweeping her eyes over him the same way he’d swept his over her. “You don’t look like you have milk to give.”
Surprising. And good. Maia was establishing herself as someone the traitors couldn’t push around. Now I was glad I’d told her almost everything. It was possible she’d turn out to be an asset in the weeks to come.
“This is Maia,” I told him. “Her daughter died in childbirth two days ago.”
“Why her, Kairy? Can we trust her?” Neby asked.
“My husband was killed trying to kidnap this baby’s mother three months ago,” Maia said sharply. “I jumped at the chance Kairy’s given me to make Pharaoh pay.”
“He was one of Pentawere’s followers?” Neby asked.
“Why else would he have tried to kidnap Neset?” Maia rolled her eyes.
“How much did you tell her?” Neby asked me, alarmed.
“Enough to know we shouldn’t be wasting time talking here on the riverbank,” Maia said pointedly.
I suppressed a smile. She’d kept me from answering Neby’s question. Neby hadn’t noticed.
“Follow me,” he said. “I have a boat.”
I nodded at Maia approvingly behind his back. She rolled her eyes again.
Neby’s vessel was moored along the shore, a medium sized cargo boat, indistinguishable from most that traveled the river. As soon as Neby and Maia and I were seated beneath the sunscreen amidships Neby lowered the reed mats on all four sides, shielding us from view. Crewmen pulled the gangplank aboard and a moment later we were moving into the channel, being rowed. Young Pentawere began nursing.
“I was expecting a smaller vessel,” I said.
“Captain’s name is Khnumnakht,” Neby said. “My superiors caught him stealing grain from temple estates belonging to Khnum’s temple at Abu a year ago. He had a network of scribes and inspectors and farmers, and priests in the temple, working for him. My superiors turned his network into our network. Now he uses his skills and his boat for our benefit.”
Before long, the rhythmic sound of oars slowing dipping into the river were joined by the cries of birds awakening along the riverbank. Golden sunlight spilled into the valley and touched the river and filtered through the reed mats on my right. That meant we were going north, the direction opposite Ani’s. One less thing for me to worry about – overtaking his boat and having Neby recognize Neset. That would have brought my plan crashing down in ruins.
Khnumnakht barked a command. The oars began churning faster. Half an hour later he poked his head under the sunscreen. “We’ve passed Waset, My Lord,” he told Neby. “No sign of pursuit.”
Not surprising. The pyre could hardly have burned out yet. It would be hours before my guards scattered the ashes and walked to Djeme and discovered I hadn’t delivered the baby to Pharaoh. Pharaoh would take his time launching a search for us after that; he wanted me to get away. I was still nervous that somehow the guards would determine it wasn’t Neset’s body that had burned and Neferronpet would launch a search for her. But that was out of my control now.
The four of us remained concealed inside the walled sunscreen all day, to avoid detection by farmers in their fields or sailors on passing boats. I did what I could to make Maia comfortable. I supplied her with plenty of food and drink whenever she was awake. She was going to need her strength for what was to come once we left the river. Not only was she still recovering from having given birth, but the last months had taken a toll on her both mentally and physically. She mostly slept during the day on a pallet laid out under the sunscreen, at least when Pentawere wasn’t nursing. Whenever she held him, the love shining in her eyes for him was almost too much for me to bear, knowing I was going to kill that innocent baby some day. I vowed again that I’d arrange for her to be out of his life long before then. I didn’t know if that would be more merciful for her, or me.
Watching Maia, I couldn’t help feeling guilty for dragging her into my scheme. Catching Pharaoh’s enemies was all too real now, no longer a theoretical exercise now that we were on a boat with some of them. She’d chosen to participate, though she didn’t really have any other choice. I rationalized that she was going to be better off with me in years to come than she would have been on her own at Waset. But I was just trying to make myself feel better.
At times as we traveled north I caught myself thinking about Neset. I pictured her planting a garden on the estate I’d gifted to Ani and Iput at Nekhen, saw with my mind’s eye Aya, a young girl, working beside her in the midst of colorful flowers, shaded by tall trees. Neset had a life to look forward to now, along with Aya, thanks to me. I doubted I’d ever see her again. I hoped some day the fact I’d rescued her and Aya from death would make her think of me kindly. Assuming she’d ever think about me at all. I was probably delusional about that.
Khnumnakht tied up along the west bank an hour after sunset. A dozen men were camped in a grove of palms, along with a few horses and donkeys and too many containers of supplies to count. We disembarked and ate the first hot meal we’d had all day, gathered around a campfire. Maia sat a little apart, nursing her son, regarding the men with fear.
“Tomorrow we head for the Southern Oasis in the western desert, a week’s travel,” Neby announced.
“That’s where we’re going to hide?”
Neby nodded. “It’s huge, Kairy. More than one hundred miles long and a dozen wide in places. It occupies a great lush depression in the desert, well watered, suitable for crops of all kinds. Caravan trails cross it from north to south and east to west, connecting it to the valley and other oases.”
“So your superiors will be able to move men and supplies without using the river and ra
ising suspicion,” I surmised.
“We’ve established a small farming village where you and the rest of these men will watch over Pentawere.”
“Not you?”
“I’ll travel back and forth between the valley and the oasis regularly, bringing supplies in and carrying jars of wine out.”
“Wine? Why?”
“To portray the fiction we’re simple farmers, managing a vineyard.”
“When will you tell Pentawere how you’re going to use him?”
Neby looked from me to Maia, then back. She was still nursing Pentawere. She didn’t appear to be listening. I knew she was, attentively. “How much did you tell her, Kairy?” he asked in a low voice.
“I told Maia we were taking Neset’s son to a place where Pharaoh wouldn’t murder him,” I lied.
“Hmm. The same thing I’ve told these men and the ones at the village.” He ripped a chunk off a piece of bread. “My superiors will reveal Pentawere’s true fate to him when he’s old enough to understand.” Neby glanced at Maia again. “You best convince the wetnurse to forget anything you’ve told her about this conspiracy, and to keep her mouth shut whenever my superiors visit the village. I like you, Kairy, but frankly, they aren’t sure they can trust you. Having her around isn’t going to strengthen your case if they think you’ve told her any of their plan. After all, you’re betraying the pharaoh you’ve served so devotedly – for personal gain.”
The Gardener and the Assassin Page 73
