Bak thought over the tale and frowned. “Would not so se rious a matter have come through official channels?”
“I know what you’re thinking, and so did I. Maruwa, who’d had many more days than I to think it over, had con cluded that someone in authority in Hattusa wanted to pass the word on in an informal manner, hoping Maatkare Hat shepsut would act before the Hittite king was forced to. Af ter hearing him out, I was inclined to agree. For some time, our sovereign has looked upon the king of Hatti in friend ship. If the traitor had been caught in Hattusa, he would’ve lost his life, which would’ve strained that relationship.”
Bak nodded his understanding. Whispers in the back ground were often more effective than blustering on the surface.
A rat raced out of the granary, setting the dogs to barking.
Eight or ten other rats followed, adults and their half-grown young streaking off in all directions. The handlers released the dogs, who sped across the sand, growling, barking. The rats, frantic to escape, sought shelter, but the best they could find were the long shadows of evening. They had no chance.
Within moments they were dead and the handlers were racing around, catching the dogs before they could gobble their prizes and lose their ardor for the game.
“Did Maiherperi think the tale true?” Bak asked.
“He must’ve. He told me later that the envoy had been re called to the land of Kemet.”
“I’ll need that envoy’s name, sir.”
“I never knew it. You must ask elsewhere.”
Amonked would know or, if not, would be able to find out. “Was the identity of the traitor ever established?”
“Maiherperi never said.”
A connection between the incident in Hattusa and the slayings in the sacred precinct was even harder to imagine than tying those two murders to Maruwa’s death.
Chapter Nine
“I agree with Lieutenant Bak, sir.” Lieutenant Karoya stood as stiff as the long spear he held in his hand. “The priest
Meryamon was slain in exactly the same manner as the Hit tite merchant Maruwa.”
“You went to the house of death this morning?” Amonked asked.
“Late yesterday.”
A dozen or more priests hurried down the wide stone path joining the sacred precinct to the quay at the edge of the ar tificial lake that provided waterfront access to Ipet-isut.
Chattering like swallows, they walked around the raised limestone platform on which Amonked, Karoya, and Bak stood. Hastening down the shallow stairway, the priests boarded a small traveling ship that would carry them to wherever the day’s rituals required they go, probably Ipet resyt.
Amonked spoke no more until they were too far away to hear. “What of Woserhet?”
“It was difficult to tell, sir.”
“The priests who prepare the dead for eternity had already removed his internal organs and covered him with natron,”
Bak explained. “Between the fire, which had blackened and blistered his skin, and the salts that had entered the wound, its shape was lost to us, but I’ll not soon forget how it looked the day he died. Much the same as the other two.”
Karoya may have been awed by such lofty company as
Amonked, his sovereign’s cousin, but he was not so im pressed that he could not speak up. “I’d wager he was slain exactly like them. Come upon from behind, his head jerked back, and his throat slashed.”
“I see.” Amonked turned away from them, placed his hands on the parapet surrounding the platform, and stared westward toward the broad canal that connected the lake to the river. Bak doubted he noticed the traveling ship pulling away from the quay or heard the beat of the drummer who kept the rowers’ movements in harmony.
Swinging around, Amonked raised his hand to shade his eyes from the bright early morning sun and gave the pair a speculative look. “The two of you have come to me with a purpose. Tell me.”
“As the three murders appear to be related… No! As we’re convinced they are, we feel they should be treated as one.” Without thinking, Bak slapped a mosquito on his arm.
“Many people have come from afar to participate in the fes tival, making merry and giving no thought to right behavior.
The harbor and market are much more difficult to control than usual, leaving Lieutenant Karoya with insufficient time to seek a slayer.”
“And since you’re involved with the other deaths, you wish also to look into Maruwa’s murder.”
“To combine all three would make sense, sir.”
Loud laughter rang out from among the trees and brush abutting the slightly raised path that surrounded the lake and lined both sides of the canal. A scantily clad man ap peared, splashing through water left behind by the receding flood. Though he was some distance away, they could see he carried a harpoon, and a long string of fish dangled from his shoulder. Another man, cursing soundly, sidled through the morass, thrusting his harpoon time and time again. Wa ter splashed, a fish trying to save itself in the too shallow backwater.
“Should not Mai, the harbormaster, have some say in the matter?” Amonked asked.
“We spoke with him earlier.” Karoya ignored a rivulet of sweat working its way down his breastbone. “He feels as we do.”
Amonked stared at the pair of them, thinking, then gave a quick nod of his head. “All right. You’ve convinced me. The three crimes we’ll now count as one, and Bak will investi gate them all.” He looked pointedly at Karoya. “I trust you’ll be available to aid him, should he need your help?”
“Yes, sir.
“Do you have anything else to report, Lieutenant?”
Amonked asked Bak.
Bak told him of his conversation with the stablemaster, concluding with Maruwa’s account that had led to the recall of an envoy. “Are you familiar with the incident, sir? If not, would you look into the matter for me? Commander Min nakht didn’t know the name of the envoy and he was never told what happened to the one who involved himself in Hit tite politics. I believe the knowledge would be most helpful.”
A long silence, a certain sign that this was not the first time Amonked had heard the tale. “In what way can that af fair possibly be connected to the three murders?”
From the unhappy scowl on Amonked’s face, Bak guessed the story had been sealed away in a jar and forgot ten. Now here it was, thanks to him, rearing its ugly head anew. “It may not be, but how can I eliminate it if I don’t know the facts?”
Amonked clasped his hands behind him and paced back and forth. “What to do?” he muttered to himself.
“You surely know you can trust me, sir,” Bak said.
“I can leave, if you wish,” Karoya offered.
“No, no. It’s just that…” Amonked stopped in front of the two of them and eyed Bak. “You know the parties involved,
Lieutenant. Thus you place me in an awkward position.”
Bak was mystified. “I do?”
A triumphant yell rang out from the edge of the canal, and the fisherman raised his harpoon from the backwater.
Caught on the barbs was a small, limp fish, its silvery scales glistening in the sunlight. A gray and black projectile plum meted out of a nearby tree, a cry of alarm burst from the sec ond man, and a crow grabbed the fish and streaked away.
