flow of products traveling downriver to the royal house. Like Antef's soldiers, the men who manned the fortresses on the frontier, making sure trade objects continued to move north, were of no importance. Only when the flow was disrupted did they attract attention-and angry messages from the capital.
'You don't like Djehuty,' he said.
'He has no more common sense than the granite we ship north.' Antef shoved open the door of the governor's villa and strode into the anteroom, a light and bright chamber with two lotus-shaped columns supporting a high ceiling. 'Unfortunately, for this enforced labor at the quarry I can blame no one but myself. If I'd had sufficient wit when first I came to Abu…' He paused, gave a low, bitter laugh. 'Amonhotep can usually talk him around, but not in this case. I pushed too hard, spoke when I should've remained silent. The swine'll diver forgive. More important, he won't forget. And my men are made to suffer.'
Could this be Djehuty's offense, Bak wondered, the reason so many people had been slain? Surely not. Ordering the army to continuous service at the quarries was a decision the governor could justify, for the stone would be shipped to the most important building projects in Kemet, the mansions of the gods, in most cases. Bak sympathized with Antef and his troops, as would any soldier, but he could offer no way out. 'Five people have died and the next, I feel sure, will be Djehuty. Do you know of any tie that might've bound the victims together? Anything Djehuty might've done to warrant their deaths as well as his own?'
Antef hesitated a long time and finally said, 'You'd best ask Amonhotep.'
Bak gave him a long, thoughtful look. His answer was more forthright than those of Amethu and Simut but came down to the same thing: he had an idea what might have brought about the murders, but he would not be the first to step forward with the information. 'If he won't tell me what I need to know, Troop Captain, I'll come back to you. And I'll expect the truth.'
'I've been told you and your Medjays have moved into a house outside the walls of this villa.' Antef's tone turned derisive. 'Do you feel safer there, Lieutenant?'
'A suggestion has been made that I summon a unit of Medjays from the capital to patrol this compound. What do you think, sir?' Bak kept his voice level, pleasant, as if unaware of the lack of trust the proposal implied.
Antef's expression hardened. 'If it's men you need, come to me. I've more than enough. Good, trustworthy men who long to be soldiers, not beasts of burden in the quarry. I can have them armed and on duty within the hour. A man in every room and every hallway, if need be.'
Bak was tempted to accept the offer, at least in part, but before he could begin to negotiate terms, Ineni's voice whipped across the room.
'I won't have my home overrun by soldiers!' The young nobleman, who had been standing unseen in a doorway at the back of the anteroom, listening, strode toward the two officers. 'We've plenty of guards, men who've been in our service for years. I'd trust them with my life.'
As Hatnofer must have relied on them, Bak thought, and the other four who were slain. He resolved to speak with Amonhotep, under whose command they served, to make sure the guards stayed alert, their vigilance never faltering. 'They're nothing but farm boys,' Antef sneered, 'trained to use a plow, not a spear.'
Ineni's mouth tightened. 'Set ten of our men against ten of yours, and we'll see who's most apt to win a battle.' 'Why put our men to the test? Why don't you face me man-to-man? Weapon of your choice.'
'Silence!' Bak stepped between the two. 'Haven't you seen enough death over the past few weeks?'
'The man's a fool,' Antef muttered. Ineni glared.
Bak had sensed animosity between the two when first he had met them. He could not begin to guess its source, but he had a feeling their mutual dislike was long-standing. 'I suggest you each go your separate way, staying well clear of the other. How can I lay hands on a slayer if I'm forever distracted by you?'
'I have to report to Djehuty,' Antef grumbled, swinging away and hastening to the portal through which Ineni had come. Khawet shoved the door fully open. He took a quick step back, barely saving his nose.
'Oh, Troop Captain Antef, I'm so sorry.' She reached out to touch his arm, then quickly withdrew her hand. 'Are you alright?'
'Of course.' His voice was gruff; a flush spread across his face. A blind man could have seen the admiration he held for her. He seemed not to know what more to say, so he gave her a quick nod. 'I must go.'
After he disappeared, she glanced across the room. Her gaze settled on Bak and Ineni, and she hurried between the columns to stand before her husband. 'Father's been looking for you.' Her* voice had turned chilly, the warmth it had held for Antef lost. 'He's seeking an explanation as to why you haven't brought another young steer to Abu for slaughter.'
'I told him…' Ineni glanced at Bak, grimaced. 'My father knows nothing of farming.'
Khawet gave her husband a too-sweet smile. 'You know something of plowing and planting, I grant you, but my father has ten times ten more worldly experience and knowledge.'
Flushed with anger, Ineni pivoted on his heel and stalked to the rear door, aping Antef in every way though he probably had no idea he did so. Khawet watched him go, her expression almost wistful. Did she in fact love him? Bak wondered, or was she merely wishing she had someone else, the troop captain, maybe?
The smile she turned on Bak was soft, gentle, friendly rather than flirtatious. 'Yesterday I was too upset to thank you properly for coming, Lieutenant, but today… Well, I can't tell you how relieved I am that you're here. My father has told me of the pattern you saw in the slayings. That you, a stranger to Abu, should notice what no one else could see gives me a confidence I thought never to feel. I'm certain you'll lay hands on the slayer before he can…' She hesitated, added, '… before he can go on with whatever he plans.'
Bak liked her smile, her pleasant manner, but cautioned himself to be wary. Whether she had noticed her husband in the room initially he had no idea, but she had certainly shown Antef more warmth and consideration. If her behavior had been intentional, if she made a habit of using one man to anger the other, no wonder the pair could not get along.
Bak remained in the anteroom, waiting for Djehuty to finish with the daily reports of the men on his staff and to hear the last of the petitioners. If he was to pry the truth from the governor, he could not do it with an audience hall full of onlookers.
To speed the passage of time, he reviewed the day thus far, ending with the confrontation between Antef and Ineni, two strong men who disliked each other enough to fight yet were very much alike. Both greatly resented Djehuty for disrupting the tasks to which they had devoted their lives. He had been thinking of them, as with all who stood close to the governor, as potential victims, men who might have died if Hatnofer had not been selected by the slayer. Should he be thinking of them instead as men who might harbor so great a hatred in their hearts they would slay Djehuty?
Chapter Five
Djehuty sat on the dais, hands resting on the arms of his chair, posture erect. He looked down at the man on his knees before him. 'Speak up, Ipy. What favor do you want this time?'
The petitioner, a man of medium height with broad shoulders and muscular arms, shiny with sweat smudged by smoke or ashes, scuttled forward half a pace. He reeked of sweat, filling the audience hall with his sour odor.
'Oh, please, most kind sir, if you deem it right and proper to give me a favorable judgment, I'll honor you more than I honor our sovereign, that I swear to the lord Khnum.'
'I'm sure you will,' Djehuty murmured, more to Lieutenant Amonhotep, standing beside his chair, than to the craftsman.
Bak stood near the massive double doors through which supplicants entered the audience hall, amused yet sympathetic. Men like Ipy abounded along the Belly of Stones, and from long experience he knew that dealing with them required infinite patience as well as a firm hand.
Few people remained in the hall. Most of those who had come seeking judgment or wise counsel — had gone. The scribes who were no longer needed had returned to Simut's lair to document the day's proceedings. Antef had made a perfunctory report and left some time ago, as had several other members of the governor's staff. The guard standing nearby in front of the doors, impatient to be on his way, constantly patted his bare leg, as if
