Chapter 10
Meren leaned back in his chair and gazed up at a column shaped like a bundle of lotus flowers. Beyond the loggia where they were finishing the afternoon meal, real flowers, the blue and rose lotus, floated on Maya's pleasure pond in the glare of sunlight. He had arrived a short time earlier after watching the king at archery practice.
While he, Tanefer, and Horemheb had watched the king, Prince Djoser joined them and immediately mentioned the pottery shard story Kysen had begun to foster. While Tanefer and Djoser speculated on Meren's odd interest in pottery, Ahiram appeared, boisterous and in determined good spirits.
He'd been watching the wrestlers and now put forth the opinion that Meren saw plots and conspiracies in every shadow and whisper. The fool priest had probably tripped over his own kilt when he fell off the king's statue. Meren did his best to appear as if he knew more than he was telling and then turned his attention back to the king.
Tutankhamun had chosen a heavier bow than usual, and the practice hadn't gone well. With every miss, the boy's mouth had settled into a tighter line until it resembled the seam between two pyramid blocks. The tighter the line, the more quiet grew the warriors and officials around the king.
Ahiram had made things worse. At the last miss, he'd spoken up to say that the fault lay in whoever gave his majesty that bow, which was far too heavy for one so young. Tutankhamun had reddened and snapped the bowstring past his wristguard, causing a nasty burn. That ended archery practice. The priest of Montu had rescued everyone by divining in the remains of his sacrifice that today was not a good day for the bow and arrow.
With the king's young pride assuaged, Meren left the court. He'd noticed that the priest had offered his explanation after Tanefer had strolled over to have a quiet word with him. Meren decided to speak with Ay about Tanefer's diplomatic abilities. They could be of use in a position of greater authority, if the prince could be persuaded to accept the responsibility.
Now Meren lifted his silver cup to a servant, who hefted a wine jar out of its stand and poured dark, sweet liquid into it. He was stuffed with mutton and fresh bread, which meant that at any moment Maya would abandon inconsequential chatter about his family. He thrived more on the discussion of people's problems than on food, and had a habit of plying his confidants with rich victuals on the supposition that a full stomach encouraged a loose tongue.
Maya knew this strategy didn't work on Meren, but he tried anyway. He'd been trying for years. His latest interest appeared to be Meren's lack of a wife.
'It's been too many years, my Falcon. Sit-Hathor lives in the netherworld, and you're still here.'
Maya glanced at him sideways with heavy-lidded, tilted eyes.
'Lady Bentanta, now, there's a woman worth marrying. As beautiful as the Nile.'
'Change the subject, Maya.'
'Very well.'
Maya had agreed too readily, making Meren immediately wary.
'Don't you think that this argument about the king leading the army has been going on far too long?'
Meren glanced at his friend, said nothing, and lifted a brow.
'This incessant quarreling is giving me foul humors,' Maya said when he realized Meren wasn't going to respond. 'It disturbs my ka to have Horemheb shouting in my ear for several hours each day. I've been to war too, you know. I understand the risks, and that's why I recommend caution. But I tell you, I'm thinking of going to the king if my courage is questioned once more by that son of a commoner.'
This time Meren straightened up in his chair. 'There's no need. Today I suggested a plan by which the king can practice at war without actually engaging in it.'
He explained his design to Maya, whose whole face brightened as he realized the compromise Meren offered.
'It won't please Ay, you know.' Meren nodded. 'But he'll recognize the necessity.'
'Nevertheless,' Maya said, 'Horemheb still disturbs me.'
'How so?'
Maya dismissed the servants fanning them and scooted his chair closer to Meren. He continued in a low voice.
'I've heard disturbing talk-talk that says Horemheb chaffs at the constraints put upon him. He's furious at how the army and the empire have been neglected. They say he thinks Ay is too old, and the rest of us too cautious, and that Egypt needs a bold leader of prime years, not a b-'
'Meren!'
Maya jumped out of his chair at the shout, and Meren almost grabbed for his dagger as Tanefer burst out of the house.
'Pharaoh sent me to find you,' Tanefer said as he snatched up a jar and gulped down water.
Out of breath, he wiped sweat from his brow and upper lip before going on. 'The temple of Amun is in chaos. One of the priests has been killed-again. The one you questioned about the pure one who fell off the king's statue, that lector priest, Qenamun. Dead of the bite of the cobra, if you can believe it.'
Meren knew they were watching him. He frowned and stalled while he thought.
'What can I do about a priest getting struck by a snake, Tanefer?'
Tanefer gave him a wincing smile. 'Someone put five cobras in his scribe's chest. He stuck his hand in and came out with a fistful of them. Hardly a mischance, do you think? I know of few cobras that jump into chests all together and shut the lid.'
'Five? Five?' Maya asked.
Meren ignored the treasurer. 'When did this happen?'
'This morning some time,' Tanefer said. He stabbed a piece of mutton with his dagger and began to eat it. Between chews he said, 'Word spread over the city quickly, of course. I'll wager old Parenefer would have liked to keep the thing quiet, but it happened in the House of Life, and there were too many people, most of whom fled when the cobras got out. And now pharaoh commands you to inquire.'
Tanefer swallowed another piece of mutton and grinned at Meren. 'The divine one's words were: 'My majesty likes not this plague of death among my priests of Amun.' What he really meant was-'
'That he likes not this plague of murder among the priests of Amun,' said Meren, giving Tanefer a stern look. He turned to the open-mouthed Maya. 'Thank you for the meal, my friend.'
Maya waved him away. 'Go, go. Five cobras, by the gods. Five.'
'Don't you want to go along?' Tanefer asked him. 'Perhaps they haven't killed them yet and we can help.'
Color drained from Maya's face, which caused Tanefer to chuckle and Meren to step between them before Maya recovered enough to start a fight. He requested the services of one of Maya's servants, penned a note, and sent for Kysen, Abu, and a squad of charioteers to meet him at the temple. Parenefer wouldn't like him descending in force, but the time for diplomacy was over.
Two priests dead. Two who worked together. Not by chance. That he refused to believe. Something was wrong at the temple of Amun, more wrong than was usual, that is.
He drove his chariot to the ferry that would take him across the river to the temple. He would understand if someone were to kill Parenefer or one of the other chief prophets. The temple of Amun was the richest of all in Egypt, possessing wealth beyond imagining; its power almost compared with that of the king. The rivalry between the priests of Amun and those of the other great gods-Ra, Osiris, Set, Hathor, Isis-sometimes reached fatal dimensions. But these seemingly meaningless killings of a lowly pure one, and then a lector priest, this Meren couldn't understand.
Did Parenefer suspect both of being his agents? No, the old man was too clever to rid himself of spies so clumsily. Indeed, if Parenefer were behind these deaths, they would have appeared natural, or at the most, unquestionably accidental. Which meant that Parenefer wasn't behind them.
If this were true, he would have to look elsewhere for the culprit. Who else had the gall and the power to cause the deaths of two priests? Only someone with a great deal at risk, someone of power. Like a high government official-a nobleman-a courtier. No, his suspicious heart was running rampant. He didn't know enough to make such a conclusion. He would have to wait for the truth to show itself.
