'Send to the office of the vizier for a scribe who can talk to the man,' Kysen said to Reia. 'But not one who only knows how to translate written documents. And Reia, hurry.'
As Reia left, Kysen studied the prisoner. His lips were cracked and swollen. Dried blood had gathered at the corner of his mouth.
'You're sure he was one of these so-called bandits who attacked Prince Ahiram.'
'Aye, lord,' said one of the guards. 'We followed him from the skirmish, but his horses were swift, and he outran us until one of them went lame.'
Turning away from the prisoner, Kysen poured a cup of water from a jar by one of the columns. He approached the prisoner, who watched him, his body growing more tense as Kysen closed the distance between them. Kysen stopped a pace from the man and held out the cup. The young man didn't move. Sighing, Kysen took a sip of the water, then offered the cup again. A hand snaked out and grabbed it.
Gulping noisily, the prisoner drank the entire cup and held it out to Kysen. Kysen almost smiled at the gesture. Few prisoners found the courage to make demands. But then, this one looked at his captors with contempt. Kysen could see it in the way he almost smirked at his guards.
As he refilled the cup, the Mitanni spoke for the first time. He spat out unintelligible words like invisible javelins. Kysen understood none of it, and only caught one word that made sense-Saustatar. Saustatar had been a great Mitanni king, a conqueror who had battled the ruthless and bloodthirsty Assyrians and looted the royal palace at Ashur. Furrowing his brow, Kysen contemplated the young man. Of what relevance could a dead king have to this soldier, who most certainly should be worrying about his impending death?
Kysen turned to Abu. 'Why-'
The door opened before he could finish. Reia ushered Rahotep and Tanefer into the hall.
'What have you here, Ky?' Tanefer asked. 'Reia said you had need of my eloquent tongue.' He then said something in Mitanni and bowed mockingly to Kysen.
'A bandit?' Rahotep asked as he went over to inspect the crouching prisoner.
Reia said, 'You were in haste, lord, and I met Prince Tanefer in the street.'
Trying not to glare at Reia, Kysen hesitated. How was he going to refuse without offending? Before he could think of something, a stream of chatter burst from the prisoner. Tanefer's head came up. He went still and stared at the Mitanni, then he said a few words to the man. The prisoner responded with an avalanche of babbling in which Kysen could only make out the word 'Saustatar.'
'What is he saying?' Kysen asked as they both walked over to the Mitanni.
'He's speaking too fast,' Tanefer said. 'You have to remember, Ky, that only my mother spoke our language to me, and she's been dead for years. Let me ask him to slow down.'
'Don't trouble yourself,' Kysen said, but Tanefer was already speaking.
He said a few words, quietly and slowly, while Rahotep walked around the prisoner and inspected him as if he were a sacrificial goat. Suddenly the Mitanni launched himself at the lamp stand, sweeping it aside with one arm as he dove for Rahotep. The lamp crashed to the floor. Oil spilled, flamed, and went out, leaving the hall in near darkness.
At the prisoner's first move, Kysen and Tanefer had sprung at him, but he'd darted away quickly. Then the darkness engulfed them. Kysen stopped abruptly to gain his bearings. He listened to the sounds of a scuffle and a scream of foreign words that rose higher and higher. Someone barreled into him. He fell as hands fastened on his neck and squeezed. Then the door opened, shoved by Reia, and he looked up at his attacker.
'Abu, get off!'
'Forgive me, lord. I thought you were the mercenary.'
They got to their feet and beheld a pile of bodies. Rahotep shoved himself off the mercenary, then pulled the prisoner off Tanefer. The prisoner rolled on his back, gurgling, to reveal a dagger in his chest. His hands were wrapped around the hilt of the dagger as he died.
Kysen dropped beside Tanefer, who was moaning. He pulled his friend to a sitting position. His broad collar and chest were wet with blood.
'Are you hurt?' Kysen asked.
'I hit my head,' Tanefer said. 'I think he fell on me.'
They both looked at the dead man.
'I should have warned you,' Tanefer said. 'But he was too quick for me. He was saying that he wouldn't allow Egyptian dogs to torture him and then kill him. He wanted to die a warrior, but I didn't think he'd kill himself.'
'Nor did I,' Kysen said as he gave Tanefer a long glance.
He went to the dead man and pulled the dagger from his body. It was a fine one with a gold hilt. Not the ordinary weapon of a charioteer on duty. He had his own still, as did Tanefer. Kysen turned to Rahotep, who was staring at the blood on Tanefer's broad collar.
'This is yours.'
Rahotep glanced at the dagger and nodded. 'When he jumped on me, he must have taken it.'
'And did you fight him for it?'
'Of course, but we ran into the column, and then Tanefer. But I didn't have the chance to kill him. If Tanefer didn't, then he must have done it himself.'
Cursing under his breath, Kysen gave orders for the body to be removed to a cell. He should never have allowed Rahotep and Tanefer in the barracks. Furious at himself and at Reia as well, Kysen wondered how he was going to tell Meren he'd lost the only living witness to this tangled series of crimes.
And where was Meren? He'd been gone since morning, and it was now midday.
Chapter 16
Meren left the offices of the vizier, directing his team of horses down a street that twisted back on itself due to the accretion of government buildings over the centuries. He'd accompanied Ay here so that they could confer about the reliability of the men now guarding pharaoh. Now, without this distraction, his suppressed anger and grief at the misunderstanding with the king surfaced.
Only a short time ago, during the investigation of the murder in the place of Anubis, he remembered Kysen making a remark about those foolish enough to steal from a dead member of pharaoh's family. Better to steal from royalty long dead, whose very names had been forgotten. Yet now the unimaginable crime had been committed. Why now?
Ahiram had long hated Akhenaten for his failure to support Egypt's ally of many years, the prince of Byblos. But as the years passed after Akhenaten's death, Ahiram seemed to put aside his wrath and accustom himself to his new life. Having come to Egypt as a youth to be trained with the other royal children, he'd been back and forth between the rich trading city and Egypt for years, until one day the trouble with the Hittite-backed raiders made it too dangerous to return home.
Ahiram had lingered at court, receiving more and more harried and desperate messages from his father. He had pleaded with Akhenaten to intercede, to send the fabled Egyptian army to his father's aid. But Akhenaten preferred the isolation of peace to expensive warfare. Meren remembered the king telling Ay that he could trade with whoever won, for Byblos needed Egyptian gold no matter who ruled it. And so Ahiram had been unable to help his father Rib-Addi, longtime friend of faithless Egypt.
Had Ahiram's fury caused him to seek vengeance upon Akhenaten? Had he even taken a role in the king's death? A pointless speculation, given how little Meren knew of the circumstances of that event.
He guided his chariot through an intersection crowded with the stalls of vendors of fruit, beer, fish, and other commodities. One man had even leaned his awning against an obelisk erected at the crossroads by some long-dead king. Pedestrians gave way before Meren while several vendors tried to catch his attention, but he was too caught up in his thoughts to do more than wave them away.
Why try to kill Akhenaten's soul now? And what about Qenamun and the other priests of Amun? Without evidence of their complicity, he couldn't accuse them of conspiring with Ahiram in the desecration of the royal tomb. They had been behind it, though. He would have wagered anything on that. He needed to question Ebana, Parenefer, and Rahotep, but without pharaoh's confidence he lacked the power to intimidate them into answering
