attention again. His brother had fallen to his knees over a pool of thick mess. Meren's lip curled as he turned back toward the house.
'Take him to his chamber at once.'
Without glancing back, he returned to the house, leaving orders at the gate for Ra's friends to be questioned and sent back to their neighboring homes. Porters, charioteers, and doorkeepers gave him wary looks as he strode down the path between the twin reflection pools. Servants scurried out of his way when he charged through the reception room. In the central hall Kysen was talking with Reia.
As Meren stalked past, Reia saluted him, but Kysen stopped him from intercepting his father.
'I wouldn't, Reia,' Kysen said. 'Not now.'
Vaguely aware of his son, Meren was through the hall and approaching his own apartments in moments. Thrusting open the door, he slammed it shut and bellowed for Zar.
'Where are you, you pompous nuisance?'
'Here, lord.'
Meren whirled around to find Zar standing on the threshold of the bathing chamber, a stack of clean bathing cloths in his arms. Untying his kilt, Meren yanked it from his hips and hurled it to the floor.
'Call my bathing attendants,' he said as he headed for the inner chamber. 'And send for my barber. I want a massage with that Babylonian oil you praise so highly. And then I want my finest kilt and overrobe, my collar and wristbands of gold, and my best sandals.'
Zar followed him into the bathing chamber, clapping his hands and calling for assistance. Meren sat on the anointing table.
'Send someone to Lady Bentanta for some of her pomegranate wine,' Meren snapped. 'And find my belt of gold beads with the red-gold clasp.'
Zar bowed as slaves scurried into the chamber bearing soap pots, dousing vessels, and wide copper bowls in which rose lotuses floated. Meren was glaring at a frieze of papyrus painted on the wall when Zar's whisper reached him.
'No, Zar, I haven't taken ill.' He rose and entered the bathing stall. Cool water splashed over his head and shoulders, and he sputtered through it. 'This is what you wanted, wasn't it? Dignity, noble magnificence, stately demeanor. You're going to get them all, Zar. They have to come from somewhere, don't they?'
The body servant gushed with thanks, but Meren wasn't listening. He'd wanted to drop all ceremony and formality and take refuge with his family. Instead of refuge, he got a mysterious death. He was going to solve this mystery quickly, so that it didn't interfere with the concealment of the royal mummies or with what little time he had left to rest.
He didn't want to think about Ra. When he did, he nearly erupted into a rage. But he had to think about the murder-for Anhai had to have been murdered. Otherwise there was no reason to hide her body. And the murder couldn't have been planned, or the culprit wouldn't have chosen to stick the body in so strange a repository.
Sennefer had cast suspicion on Ra. Meren hadn't mentioned to anyone, even Kysen, his conversation with Ra at the feast. Ra had hinted that he was thinking of marrying Anhai. If Anhai had merely been playing him against Sennefer, Ra would have been furious.
Meren couldn't imagine being in love with the woman, but Ra lacked wisdom, and thus might have been, simply because she flattered him. She might have fed his over-generous estimate of his own value. Ra was so intemperate, wild, and ungovernable; and he cultivated resentment as a fanner cultivates barley.
Still, Sennefer could have been lying. He had every reason to cast suspicion on someone else. But if Ra had discovered that Anhai had only been using him… The fires of his resentment were already hot from imagined abuse at Meren's hands. Anhai could have pushed him over the edge of control.
While Meren wrestled with this unpleasant possibility, his servants got him bathed and his body smoothed with oil. He went over the questions he wanted to ask Ra while he dressed. Zar fastened a gold broad collar and centered the counterweight at his back. Meren clamped a wide bracelet of gold over the sun disk branded on his wrist, the legacy of his imprisonment at the hands of Akhenaten. A beaded gold band wrapped around his forehead. Long black locks of hair fell over his shoulders.
His hand traced the groove etched down the middle of the dagger blade thrust into his belt. A memory flitted by-of being a youth proud of attaining the rank of charioteer, of his first court appearance as a warrior. That night, at a royal banquet, was the first time he beheld his fellow noblemen from the perspective of an initiate.
He had been struck by the contradiction. These men wore gossamer robes, earrings of gold and electrum, bracelets and necklaces of lapis lazuli and turquoise. Their eyes glistened with kohl. These men could laugh while thrusting a spear into the heart of a lion. They would ride a chariot into the midst of a charging army. The hand that wore elegant rings of silver wielded a dagger with unsurpassed expertise. Beauty and violence linked. One disguised by the other, merging, enmeshed, deceptive-fatal.
He had never told anyone of this insight, because no one else seemed to find it odd that creatures capable of such violence draped themselves in a veil of such beauty. That feeling of disjunction came to him now as he stood dressed in creamy linen, encrusted with gold.
But he was dressed this way for a reason. Shaking off his discomfort, Meren waved away the servants who were arranging the folds of his robe. He dismissed Zar with a nod and left his chambers, walking past two doors to his brother's room. There he found a charioteer standing guard.
'He's spoken to no one?' Meren asked.
'No, lord. He's, that is…'
'Say it,' Meren snapped.
'He wasn't in a state to carry on a conversation, lord.'
'You're a man of careful words.'
The guard hurried to open the door for him. The interior was black. Meren took an alabaster lamp from the guard and motioned for him to remain outside. The door closed, and Meren marched down the length of the room to the dais on which sat a carved bed surrounded by sheer curtains on a frame. Thrusting aside the curtains, Meren went over to the lump in the middle of the bed and thrust the lamp in his brother's face.
Although his eyes were closed, Ra gasped and covered his face. 'No light, damn you! Get out.'
Meren set the lamp on the floor and yanked his brother off the bed by his arm. Ra slid to the floor, cursing and kicking. Then he groaned, drew up his legs, and put his forehead on his knees.
'What do you want, Meren? I'm sick. Go away.'
'Anhai has been murdered,' Meren said over Ra's groans.
The groans stopped. A red eye opened to blink at him.
'What did you say?'
'You heard. Where were you last night?'
'How can she be dead? She was in excellent health. Last night she was fine.'
'Answer me,' Meren said. 'Where were you while Hepu read his Instruction?'
'Did he read another Instruction at the feast? When Anhai was dead? That's just like him, the hypocrite.'
'No, no, no!' Meren sank to his knees and captured Ra's gaze with his own. 'Answer my question, Ra. Where were you while Hepu read his Instruction? When did you leave for Green Palm, and who went with you?'
Ra put his palms to his temples and squeezed. 'Oh, gods, my head. Send for that physician of yours. I'm dying.'
'If you don't answer me at once, that ache in your head will seem like bliss compared to the way you'll feel after I've done with you.'
Ra stared at him for a moment, then winced at the lamplight. The family's angular jaw was softened on his face, making him appear more youthful than he was. His eyes were as deeply set as Meren's, but not as haunted. Covering his eyes, he said, 'Something's wrong about Anhai's death, isn't there? Where was I, where was I? I don't remember any Instruction. Most likely, I was already gone by then. It disgusts me to watch Wah and Sennefer and Antefoker and everyone else fawning over you as if you were pharaoh. I went with some of my friends to Green Palm. There's a tavern there with excellent beer and women with the talents of Hathor.'
'You stayed there all night? There are those who will swear to it?'
Lifting his head, Ra leered at him. 'Three of the women will swear. Are you asking me if I killed Anhai? By the gods, you think I might have done it.' Without warning. Ra reached out and grabbed Meren's gold necklace and
