never to be seen with the trader.”
“In other words, you served as the intermediary between
Meryamon and Zuwapi. You knew of Antef, though you weren’t supposed to.”
Nehi hung his head, nodded.
“Zuwapi, in turn, served as the intermediary between you and Antef.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I see,” Bak said, and indeed he did. The gang had been set up as a chain, with Meryamon dealing solely with Nehi who dealt with Zuwapi, who in turn dealt with Antef. “I thought at first that Zuwapi was the key man in this little group of robbers and smugglers. Instead…”
Nehi, staring at the ground beneath his feet, shook his head. “As far as I know, he served no purpose other than to take the objects I gave him and trade them to men far to the north.”
Bak caught the young man’s chin and jerked his head up, forcing him to meet his eyes. “Who planned the robberies,
Nehi? You? Have you led us to believe you’re a simple thief when in fact you’re the head of the gang?” The charge was ridiculous, but he had somehow to get Nehi to verify his suspicions.
“Me?” Nehi looked startled. “I’ve stolen objects from the lord Amon, I freely admit, but it wasn’t my idea.”
“Whose was it?”
“Meryamon’s,” he whispered.
Bak shoved the young man’s head higher, forcing him to stand on his toes. “It’s easy to blame a dead man.”
“I swear by all the gods! He told me what they planned to do and suggested I help. He spoke of immense wealth and a life of luxury in Ugarit or some other distant land.” Nehi be gan to sob. “Now look what I have. A promise of death for stealing from the god.”
“Zuwapi said the order to slay me came from you.”
Nehi gaped, stuttered, “I didn’t…” A sudden thought struck; shock registered on his face. “Oh, no!”
“What?” Bak demanded.
“I sometimes passed messages to him, sealed scrolls
Meryamon gave me.”
“Earlier you used the word ‘they.’ Did Meryamon plan the robberies and smuggling, or did someone else lead the gang from afar?”
“Meryamon was a priest, nothing more. What would he know of transporting items of value out of the land of Kemet, of trading such fine objects to men in faraway lands, men willing to pay dearly for them?”
Exchanging a satisfied glance with Karoya, Bak released
Nehi’s chin. “The one who planned the thefts, then, was an other man. He was your leader, was he not?”
“Yes, sir.” Nehi spoke so softly Bak could barely hear.
“Who is he?”
Nehi stared at the ground, mumbled, “Only Meryamon knew his name.”
“And now your friend is dead.”
Tears spilled from Nehi’s eyes, he nodded.
“If you don’t know who this leader of yours was, and
Zuwapi and Antef don’t either, how will you contact him?”
Nehi tried to meet Bak’s eyes but failed. “I guess he’ll contact us.”
His lack of conviction made a lie of the words. He knew as well as Bak that the man had no intention of making him self known. He had slain Meryamon to break the chain, thereby assuring his safety forevermore.
Bak and Psuro walked through the gathering darkness along lanes crowded with men, women, and children, all making merry on this final night of the festival. Their Med jays had gone off with Karoya and the harbor patrolmen to escort the prisoners to the Great Prison of Waset, where they would be held until they stood before the vizier. After judg ment they would return to the prison to await punishment.
“Where are you to meet our men, Psuro?” Bak asked.
“In front of Ipet-resyt. They won’t be long, I’m certain.”
The sergeant stopped in the intersection where they must part company. A soldier stood there, holding high a flaming torch, keeping a wary eye on the people passing by, all talk ing and laughing, happy and excited. “Are you sure you can’t come with me, sir? You’ve earned a night of revelry.”
“I must report to Amonked, tell him of today’s events.”
Bak nudged Psuro, and they stepped out of the way of a half dozen sailors, sauntering arm in arm with no regard for any one in their path. “Early tomorrow, before the festivities be gin in earnest, I must go to Pentu’s dwelling and point a finger at the one who became involved in the politics of
Hatti. Amonked must be told what I mean to say.”
“Will you not join us after you leave him, sir?”
“I’d like to, but no.” Bak laid a hand on the sergeant’s shoulder. “I must go somewhere to be alone and think.
Something nags at me. Bits of information, statements made that slip away each time I feel them close.”
Chapter Eighteen
“To what do I owe the honor of this visit, sir?” Pentu, seated in his armchair on the dais in his spacious audience hall, tried very hard to form a welcoming smile. “Especially at so early an hour.”
Amonked did not return the smile. “We wished to speak with you, you and the members of your household. We knew if we came later, we’d not find you home.”
From Pentu’s appearance, they had caught him dressing in his festival best. He wore a calf-length kilt of fine linen and his eyes were painted, but he had not yet adorned him self with jewelry and wig. Like innumerable other people in
Waset, he and his retinue were readying themselves for the short walk to Ipet-resyt. There they would watch the lord
Amon leave his southern mansion and make his way to the waterfront, where he would board the sacred barge and sail north to Ipet-isut, thereby culminating the Beautiful Feast of
Opet.
“Your presence is always a pleasure,” Pentu said, “but we’ll be far better prepared to receive you later, after the day’s festivities end.”
“Frankly, Pentu, the word ‘pleasure’ does not apply.”
Amonked glanced at Bak. “My young friend can explain.”
A female servant, arranging flowers in a large bowl on the dais, noted his peremptory tone and glanced up at her mas ter. Pentu’s expression was stormy, his body as tense as a
tautly pulled bowstring. Sensing an impending crisis, she rose quickly to her feet. She dropped a blossom, stepped on it in her haste to leave, and departed. The sweet scent of the crushed flower filled the air.
The governor scowled at Bak. “I can’t imagine why you’ve come again, Lieutenant. I thought we were rid of you.”
“I told Bak he wouldn’t need my authority. I believed you to be a fair and courteous man.” Amonked’s voice sharp ened. “It seems I erred.”
Pentu flushed at the rebuke.
“We’ve come to reveal the name of the one who brought about your recall from Hattusa,” Bak said.
“Now look here, young man…”
Amonked raised a hand, silencing him. “I’ve taken the liberty of summoning the members of your household. As soon as they arrive, we’ll begin.”
