'Where is she?' Djehuty peered around the room. His eyes seemed unable to stay in one place for long, as if he had trouble focusing. 'Why is she always somewhere else when I need her at my side?'
Tut-tutting in place of words, the physician took the governor's hand in his and patted the long, bony fingers. Djehuty jerked his hand away and glared at the man, like a child offended by a touch. 'Did she go out to play?' he asked, his eyes darting around, alighting on nothing. 'Or did Hatnofer take her to the market? I hope she's holding her hand. Little girls should never wander around alone. It's unseemly.'
Inebny sucked in his breath, startled. Thuty muttered a few words Bak could barely hear, possibly a spell to ward off the demon that had invaded the governor's heart.
Recognizing a second, more dire reason for Ineni's distress, Bak moved up behind the physician. 'Is he always like this?' he whispered
'What was that?' Djehuty demanded, turning waspish. 'What'd you say? Don't whisper in front of me, young man. I don't like it.'
'I asked if you're well, sir.'
'I'm hungry, that's all. Haven't eaten in…' Djehuty's voice tailed off and he tilted his head to peer at Bak. 'Who are you? What are you doing in my bedchamber?'
Bak found himself at a loss for words. How does one respond to a grown man whose thoughts have carried him into another realm? He queried the physician with a glance, got a shrug in return. The man was no help at all.
'Well?' Djehuty snapped. 'Who are you? Answer my question, young man, or I'll have my father send you to the desert mines. He's governor of this province, you know.'
'I'm a servant, sir, new to your household.' The less important he made himself out to be, he hoped, the sooner Djehuty would accept him. Or, better yet, forget him.
'Go away.' Djehuty flicked his long fingers, signaling Bak out the door. 'Go find Khawet. I need her. Now!' He glanced toward the viceroy and the commandant. 'You go with him. Both, of you.' His eyes began to wander. 'Servants! Bah! Useless creatures, all of them.' He looked down at the sheet covering him and frowned. He pulled the crumpled fabric one way and another, stretched it, patted it, trying to smooth out the wrinkles. He seemed unaware of their departure.
'How long has he been like this?' Bak asked.
'I wasn't certain when first he awakened from the poisoninduced sleep.' The physician rubbed his eyes, as if wearied by a failure he could in no way have prevented. 'I thought I might cure him. I hoped to, but… Well, as you can see, no potions I could give him, no spells to frighten away the demons, no prayers to the gods would reorder his wits and allow him to think as he should. In the end, I accomplished nothing.'
'Will he ever again be right?' Inebny demanded.
The physician hesitated, obviously impressed by so mighty a man and desirous of saying what he wanted to hear. But the truth could not be avoided. His eyes fell away from the viceroy, skipped over the commandant, and landed on Bak, a man more easily spoken to. 'I've seen this before. Long ago, when first I began to learn my profession in the house of life at the mansion of the lord Amon in Waset. A man was brought in for us all to see. One who had been thrown into a pit of scorpions by a vile trader from the land of Retenu. As punishment for dishonesty, we were told.'
His eyes flitted toward Inebny and Thuty, returned to Bak. 'When we saw him, ten or so years after the occurrence, he behaved like Governor Djehuty. A child yet not a child, one who confused the passage of time and his. place in it.' He bit his lip. 'The poison. The pain. The shock. I don't know. Maybe in the governor's case, the realization of how much his only child hated him.'
He looked at the viceroy at last, his gaze level, his admission frank. 'Whatever it was, his wits are addled now and likely always to remain so.'
'You are your father's son,' Inebny said. 'His family, and therefore yours, has held the seat of power in this province for many generations.'
'Sir.' Ineni stood stiff and straight in front of the dais, his eyes on the viceroy. 'I've never wished to be governor, nor do I now. I want only to return to the family estate in Nubt. If, that is, you deem I have the right.'
Inebny, seated in Djehuty's armchair, glanced at Bak, who was standing nearby with hnsiba and Thuty. Behind them, crowding the audience hall, was a multitude of people from Abu, Swenet, and farms and villages throughout the province. These men and women from all walks of life had heard their governor was ill. Too ill to ever again occupy the seat of authority. They had come to see for themselves this lofty officer from afar, seeking reassurance that chaos would be averted, justice and order would be maintained, and life would go on as before.
During the two days that had passed since Khawet's death and Djehuty's escape from reality, the viceroy and the officers from Buhen had discussed at length all Bak had learned during his search for the slayer. Now Inebny had to decide how best to use the information, how much he should take to heart, in trying to resolve both provincial and personal affairs. Though outside his realm of responsibility, his rank placed him in charge. The decisions he made would most likely be approved by the vizier.
'Djehuty adopted you as his son, and that you remain.' Inebny sat at ease, comfortable with his task. 'As his sole heir, the estate is yours by right, and so is the governorship. The latter includes, as you well know, the two villas in Abu and the cultivable land at the north end of this island. You're also entitled to a percentage of the provincial taxes and a share of the tolls paid by passing traders.'
The viceroy wore a simple white kilt, a short wig with tight curls, a broad collar of gold and carnelian and turquoise beads, with equally elegant bracelets, armlets, anklets, and rings. A large and muscular Kushite servant stood behind him, stirring the air with a magnificent ostrich-feather fan. The onlookers were suitably impressed, Bak felt sure.
Ineni would not be swayed. 'I'm a farmer, sir. I have neither the patience nor the knowledge to sit on that dais and make lawful and wise decisions. Why should I be given a task I'd do poorly when I'd much prefer the task I do well?'
Inebny's mouth twitched as he held back a smile. 'Your honesty alone recommends you for the position.'
'But, sir..:'
The viceroy raised a hand, silencing him. 'The province will suffer from your abdication, I've no doubt, — but I wish you a long and happy life on the estate in Nubt, and many children to succeed you.'
Ineni stood still and quiet, slow to comprehend. Then relief wiped away the confusion, the surprise, and set his face alight. 'Thank you, sir. Thank you!'
Flashing a brilliant smile at Bak, he swung away and strode in among the crowd, whose startled silence grew to a clamor. Men reached out to clap him on the shoulder, women to squeeze his wrist or hand. They voiced disappointment at the defection of a man whose family they had served for many generations, yet at the same time they showed their delight that this man they liked had been allowed the life he preferred. Inebny looked on, his face expressionless, his eyes aglitter with satisfaction.
As the tumult died down, the scribe responsible for the smooth functioning of the proceedings called the next man on the viceroy's list. 'Troop Captain Antef!'
The officer, who had been shocked to hear Khawet was the slayer and appalled by her death, had begun to grow accustomed to the idea that she would never again smile upon him. He stood as straight as Ineni had, as much in command as always. Helping him along, Bak suspected, was the thought that Djehuty would no longer order his troops to inappropriate or degrading tasks.
'This province needs a governor, Troop Captain.' Inebny studied the man standing before him with interest. 'Is it a position you've ever coveted? Or do you, like Ineni, prefer a task more suited to your talents and training?'
If Antef noticed the viceroy's gentle teasing, he gave no hint. 'Sir, may I be bold enough to make a suggestion?' Inebny leaned forward, eyes narrowing. 'Go on, Troop Captain.'
'Lieutenant Amonhotep has served as Governor Djehuty's right hand for almost five years. He knows far better than… Forgive me, sir, but I must speak with candor.' Antef paused, waited for the viceroy's nod. 'He knows the laws of our land better than Djehuty ever did, better than I do, better than anyone in this province. And he has the wisdom to uphold those laws in a true and just manner. He, not 1, should be appointed governor.'
