with the men on duty. Bak beckoned, but the big Medjay grimaced and shook his head, refusing to enter while a man he disliked remained. Hori walked along the row of shields, picking up one and then another and stacking them on Psuro’s out-stretched arms.
“You’re not the first to voice concern,” Bak said. “I believe the commandant is even now reevaluating his stance on the movement of traffic.”
“I thank the lord Amon!” Userhet glanced toward the pair collecting the shields. “As you can well imagine, I harbor in my heart a deep concern for Buhen, but I must admit I’ve a secondary interest as well.”
“Oh?”
Userhet’s eyes widened, darted toward Bak. “By the beard of Osiris! That’s a coffin!”
Hori and Psuro exchanged a furtive look and came close to laughing. The men on duty in the entry hall covered their mouths to stifle mirth. Imsiba hid a smile in a frown of disapproval. Bak glanced from one to another, trying to understand. Then it came to him: the men had somehow found a way of using the coffin as the focal point for making bets, probably wagering on each new viewer’s likely reaction.
He was not averse to gambling, but the men were getting carried away. The time had come, he decided, to restrict their bets to knucklebones. “We could find no better place to put it, so here it sits.”
Userhet walked close to read the deceased’s name.
“Hmmm. A man of no special worth, I see. A scribe probably.”
170 / Lauren Haney
Hori and Psuro, shaking with silent laughter, hurried out to the street with their burden. Someone in the entry hall sputtered. Bak shot a warning glance their way. Userhet was not a man to take lightly a joke at his own expense. “You spoke of a second reason for wanting traffic to move.”
“I must know how much longer Mahu’s ship will be held in Buhen.” Userhet turned his back on the coffin and gave Bak a self-satisfied smile. A smug smile, Imsiba would have called it. “Mistress Sitamon has turned to me for advice about her brother’s affairs. Letting so large a vessel lie idle is not good business.”
Bak stole a look at Imsiba, remembering the pleasure his friend had shown when the lovely young widow had come with the broth. He hoped the Medjay had failed to hear, but no. Imsiba stared at the overseer, the hurt plain to see on his face.
“She told me she asked him for advice.” Imsiba prowled the room, distraught. “She didn’t say she’d placed her affairs in his hands.”
“I doubt she has,” Bak said, hoping to calm his friend.
“You heard him say as much yourself.”
“Today perhaps, but what of tomorrow? You know how persuasive he can be.”
“No, I don’t.” Bak dropped onto the coffin and eyed Imsiba with a blend of impatience and sympathy. “You appear to know him far better than I. Since you can’t bear to stand in the same room with him, how have you gained so vast a knowledge?”
The Medjay walked to the door and stared unseeing into the entry hall, where two men, potters if the grayish flecks of dried mud on their arms told true, had come to report a theft of charcoal, silencing the knucklebones. He whirled suddenly, his face stormy. “Userhet’s one of your suspects, my friend. If he proves to be a slayer of men, Sitamon’s life could be in danger.”
“He’s one of five suspects. A man more apt to be innocent than guilty.”
“Are you still gnawing that bone, Lieutenant?” Hapuseneb strode into the room with an assurance only wealth can give.
“I suggest you cast your net wider. It’s true that those of us unfortunate enough to have played knucklebones with Mahu are each and every one involved in trade, but many others along the river have both the means and the wit to smuggle contraband.”
“You’ll find my scribe Hori in a room at the back of this building,” Bak said in a wry voice. “If you’ve names to offer, we’ll search the men out and apply the cudgel.”
Hapuseneb burst into laughter. Glancing around, he located a stool against the wall, drew it forward, and sat down.
The potters hurried out of the building, looking no happier than when they had arrived. The entry hall remained silent, the knucklebones stilled for a more entertaining game of chance.
“I’ve come fishing,” Hapuseneb admitted. “I’ve heard whispers of a visit from the vizier, and I’ve been invited to a party worthy of the great man himself. He is coming, isn’t he?”
“I, too, have heard tales-and the promise of a surprise inspection.” Bak gave the trader a bland smile. “As I think it unwise to dismiss rumors so important to our well-being, I’ve ordered my men to ready their clothing and equipment.”
“Inspection, my right buttock! It’s trade the vizier’s interested in, not the army. That’s why I’ve come to you.”
Hapuseneb stood up abruptly, glowered first at Imsiba and then Bak. “Thuty can’t possibly go on this way, holding traffic in Buhen and Kor. He must, for his own sake, release all caravans and ships. If he doesn’t, the vizier will strip him of his rank and throw him to the jackals.”
“He knows the risk he takes, and so do I.” Bak tried to look worried, to pretend he did not already know Thuty’s decision to allow trade to flow as before. “But you surely understand that when traffic begins to move, most of my suspects will set sail and my search for Mahu’s slayer will falter.”
Looming over him, Hapuseneb struck the coffin with the flat of his hand. “No!” He backed off and laughed-at himself, Bak could see. “Until the vizier leaves Buhen, not a man among us will sail away. Especially with Thuty’s wife giving a party, giving to one and all the chance to draw attention to themselves and petition him for position or power.” His eyes flickered toward Imsiba and back. “If I’m wrong, if any man sails who has more to gain by staying, I’ll go after him myself and drag him back.”
Surprised, Bak rose to his feet. Did so brazen an offer mean Hapuseneb held no guilt in his heart? Or was it meant to cloud the eyes, stifling rational thought? Imsiba looked equally startled-and just as confused.
Hapuseneb took a step toward the door, changed his mind, and swung back to the coffin. His eyes ran down the yellow stripe from collar to feet and he read aloud, “Amonemopet, web priest in front of the lord Khnum.” Looking up, he grinned.” A relative of yours, Lieutenant?”
Bak dared not look at the men in the entry hall, whose muffled laughter he could well imagine if not hear.
Hapuseneb raised a hand in farewell and strode out of the office. As he turned toward the street door, Nebamon entered. The older trader clapped the younger on the shoulder. “Hapuseneb! I see you’ve come ahead of me.”
“Did you go to the commandant, as promised?”
“He refused to see me, pleading the press of duties. I learned nothing of his intentions, nor did I have the opportunity to convince him we really must return to business as usual.”
Hapuseneb glanced toward Bak’s office, his eyes alive with good humor. “I, too, came up empty-handed. Bak’s as close-mouthed as a wooden doll. If Thuty means to let traffic flow, the lieutenant’s not about to whisper the news before the official announcement.”
Bak walked to the door, crossed his arms over his breast, and eyed the pair with a sardonic smile. That they had been talking for his benefit, he had no doubt. “Who else have you
asked to plead your case? Userhet was here before you. Will Ramose come next? Or Kay?”
“You’re singularly lacking in subtlety, Lieutenant,”
Hapuseneb said, laughing heartily.
Nebamon gave Bak a disapproving look. “You make light of our worries, Lieutenant, but if you were a man of business rather than a soldier, a policeman, you’d know that every travel day lost is a day that leads us closer to poverty.”
Bak could not resist casting a skeptical eye at Hapuseneb, one of the most successful traders in Wawat and Kush. The tall, slender man shrugged, denying responsibility for his colleague’s careless statement.
“Don’t get me wrong.” Nebamon, unaware, ran his fingers through his short white hair. “I’d rather be safe than be found one day with an arrow in my back. But so far I’ve seen no sign that bringing traffic to a standstill has contributed in any way to finding Mahu’s slayer. Frankly, I’d feel safer in Ma’am, or faroff Abu.”
Hapuseneb turned his head so only Bak could see and rolled his eyes skyward. “I must go. I’ve a ship tied up
