her attention to the harpist who was playing music for the diners.
'You were seen leaving the feast with Anhai last night while my uncle read his Instruction.'
'I'm sure many people left.'
Irritated at her composure, Meren raised his voice. 'But only one died, and she was last seen with you.'
'Don't bark at me, Meren. I remember you when you were a naked, uncircumcised little boy.'
'You don't seem to understand what has happened. Someone has murdered Anhai, and you fought with her and threatened her life.'
At last Bentanta's gaze swung to him from the harpist. 'You think I killed her?'
'We may have played together as babes, but that was long ago. We're almost strangers now, and all I know for certain is that Anhai died shortly after you said you wished you had the courage to kill her.'
'I spoke to her on the front porch. Then I went for a walk under the trees by the reflection pools.'
'Alone?'
'Yes, Meren. I'm not a fool. If there was someone who could vouch for me, I would have said so and saved myself the ordeal of this inquisition.' She stood and walked around the couch so that her back was to him. 'I don't suppose you'll believe me if I say I didn't kill her.'
'I would like to.'
'Then do so.'
'Help me by explaining why you quarreled with Anhai.'
She looked over her shoulder at him. 'I've already told you why.'
'Bentanta, I know there's more to this quarrel than you've said. She had something of yours, something you wanted back desperately. And she was trying to make you do something you didn't want to do. You failed, and she was furious.'
For the first time, Bentanta's composure broke. A flush crept up her neck to settle in her cheeks. Then it faded, leaving her pale and making the kohl that darkened her eyes stand out.
'Do you always spy on your friends?' she asked.
'No,' he said, hoping the heat in his face wasn't noticeable. 'I came by this knowledge by accident. Tell me what was between you and Anhai. It was a grave matter, or you wouldn't have threatened her.'
'It was a private thing, and I'll not spew out my secrets to you, Meren. I've heard the talk. Idut says you don't know what killed Anhai. And since you don't know, you shouldn't go about making false accusations. You've become a suspicious and evil-minded wretch. And you used to be so sweet-natured.'
Meren rose and walked over to the couch. They glared at each other across it.
'This ruse of yours won't avail you,' he said quietly.
'What ruse?'
'Since we began talking you've done nothing but try to distract me with foolish accusations and insults. You were always stubborn. I remember Djet used to say you had the ka of a donkey.'
'And I'm not the only one spouting insults.'
'Forgive me,' he said. 'Now tell me what Anhai had that you wanted.'
'It's not your concern.'
Meren threw up his hands. 'Listen to me! I'm not your childhood companion anymore. This isn't the nursery. If you don't speak, I have to find answers by my own methods, and they are those of the Eyes of Pharaoh.'
She was looking at him in astonishment. Then her eyes narrowed, and her lips curled. His frustration grew as he realized he hadn't intimidated her at all.
'It's easier this way, is it not?' she asked.
'What are you talking about?'
'Easier to deal with me as the Eyes of Pharaoh. Ah yes, I see.' She waved her arm in the direction of the family. 'You keep them at a distance. You keep everyone at a distance, except your children, whom you command. What frightens you that you must conceal yourself behind rank and duty?'
He almost let his mouth fall open. Clamping his lips shut, Meren scowled at the woman facing him. She had always been irreverent, full of pride. It came of spending the years of her youth under the tutelage of Queen Tiye and Nefertiti.
'You know I speak the truth,' Bentanta said. 'That's why you're speechless. I'm sure no one else has ever dared to confront you with the truth.'
He was losing this battle, and he didn't want to hear any more of Bentanta's false truths. She was trying to vex him, stampede him in the direction she wished him to go. Narrowing his eyes, he studied her. Her hands were curled into fists. He hadn't noticed before because they were half hidden in the folds of her overrobe.
'I desire no conversation of so personal a nature,' he said. 'Since you refuse to tell me the truth, you leave me no choice but to make more formal inquiries.'
'Don't threaten me, Meren.'
He would have replied, but a crash and shouts sent him whirling around to face the group beneath the willows. Sennefer lay facedown over a collapsed chair. Hepu and Wah were trying to pull him off it. Idut was shrieking, while Bener tried to calm her. Isis stood by gawking, and Nebetta hovered over the men, calling her son's name.
Meren broke into a run, rounding the reflection pool and reaching Sennefer as Hepu and Wah lifted him off the fallen chair and laid him on the ground. Shoving Wah aside, Meren knelt beside his cousin. He hardly noticed Bentanta standing behind him.
Sennefer's eyes were closed, but he was muttering, calling out. Meren touched his forehead. It was hot, and he was breathing unnaturally. Nebetta, who was kneeling opposite Meren, began to cry.
Meren ducked as a flailing arm nearly hit him in the face. Sennefer cried out and sat up, hitting blindly. Meren pinned his arms to his sides and shouted orders. In moments several of his men came rushing into the garden.
'He's ill with drink. Help me get him to his chamber. Idut, send for my physician. Out of the way, Aunt Nebetta. You do him no good by hindering us.'
It was a struggle to get Sennefer to the guest house and into his chamber. He fought them the whole way. The physician arrived while Meren and Hepu were trying to keep Sennefer in his bed, but as Nebamun attempted to examine him he subsided. Hepu comforted Nebetta while the physician looked at Sennefer's eyes, felt his skin, looked in his mouth. Before Nebamun could finish, Sennefer stiffened. Then his body began to jerk, and Nebetta screamed. The physician produced a wooden spoon from the wicker box he'd brought containing his instruments and medicines. This he forced between Sennefer's teeth.
'No!' Nebetta cried. 'What are you doing to him?'
Hepu held her back when she tried to swoop down on her son. Meren went over to them and spoke to Hepu.
'Take her out of here. She shouldn't see this.' He didn't wait for Hepu's agreement. Shoving them, he propelled them outside and shut the door before they could protest.
He returned to Sennefer's bedside. Nebamun was removing the wooden spoon from Sennefer's mouth. The violent spasms had ceased, and he appeared to have lapsed into a stupor. Nebamun pulled a sheet over his patient.
'What's wrong with him?' Meren asked.
'A moment, my lord.'
Nebamun pulled a papyrus roll, thick with many sheets, from his physician's box. He unrolled it and leafed through the sheets. His finger ran across lines of cursive hieroglyphs, then paused at a group of words written in red ink. Hesitating, his finger tapped the red script. The finger moved again, down the page. Nebamun flipped through more sheets, reading in silence with constant glances at Sennefer. Finally he closed the papyrus roll and placed it back in the box.
'Well?'
'Many illnesses follow similar courses, my lord.'
'Can you help him?'
'I think not, lord.' Nebamun knelt beside Sennefer, who hadn't moved. 'I've found the sacred writings about this illness. A fever, the possession by visions. The voice of his heart grows weak.'
'But in the garden it wasn't,' Meren said.
Nebamun inclined his head. 'He seemed drunk, lord?'
