water. 'And why was he trying to sail it himself?'
Rolling his eyes, Meren said, 'Go home, Idut.'
'And where has Kysen been this early in the morning?'
'He said he was going to Green Palm. Now will you go home while I see what's happened to that fool Paser?'
'You're not making sense, Meren. Kysen wouldn't take Wings of Horus for so short a sail.'
'Damnation, Idut! Perhaps he wanted to impress a woman. I know not, and it isn't important. Are you going to go home, or do I have to take you there myself?'
'I'm going, I'm going. But don't think I'll let you get away with this high-handedness much longer. The whole family is going to revolt against you if you don't release them from this half-imprisonment.' Idut glanced at the men pulling Paser on board Wings of Horns. 'Bring Paser to the house. I'll find some clothes for him.'
Meren's head was beginning to ache, and he rubbed his neck. 'Just go home, Idut.'
Once his sister was out of sight and his ship docked, Meren walked across a plank and hopped onto the deck of Wings of Horus beside Kysen, his face set, his jaw tense. 'Where is he?'
'In the deckhouse. I shoved him in there to contemplate what we might do to him.'
'Good.' Meren walked toward the deckhouse and paused under its awning. He glanced over his shoulder. The pomegranate colors of sunrise lit the horizon. 'I don't want to bring him to the house. You saw Idut, and she's already curious. The whole family is furious with me, except for your sisters.'
Kysen nodded in the direction of a group of men squatting around a brazier full of coals. 'I thought you wouldn't want any delay in getting the truth out of our simple-witted spy.' One of the men held a long bronze rod, the end of which was embedded in the white embers.
Meren touched the wristguard over the sun-disk scar. Three deaths. Three deaths on what was to have been a respite from murder and treachery. 'You're certain you've captured everyone on that freighter?'
'I still have men out searching, but the villagers said there were only three in the crew, and we have them all if you count the dead one.'
'I don't like this, Ky. I know Sennefer's killing Anhai had nothing to do with our sacred charge across the river, but still, I don't like it that these deaths have happened so close together. Oh, I know what you're going to say. My ka is riddled with distrust from being raised at court. I'm trying to control my suspicions. Let's get on with it.'
Kysen picked up an alabaster lamp that had been resting near another brazier and preceded Meren. Inside, Paser sat hunched on a stool between two charioteers. He blinked at them as lamplight filled the antechamber. The charioteers saluted Meren, and Paser, who had been staring at Kysen, widened his eyes. Meren walked over to him and surveyed his shaven skull and face.
'What were you doing spying on my men?'
'Spying? Spying?' Paser croaked. 'I know naught of spying. I was but taking a pleasure sail in my new boat when your son pounced on me as if I were some nomad bandit.'
Kysen set the alabaster lamp on a stand. Meren picked up the stand and placed it nearer Paser.
'I'm not going to spar with you,' Meren said. 'That was a freighter you were on, Paser, not a yacht. And you've shaved your face and head. Tell me what you were doing.'
Paser tried to stand up, but the charioteers shoved him back down on the stool. 'My friends at court will hear of this abomination. I'm a free man. I may sail the Nile as any nobleman might.'
Listening to Paser's ranting for a few moments, Meren abruptly picked up the lamp and tipped it. A thin stream of oil poured down on Paser's head. Paser yelped and jumped from the stool. The charioteers moved with him, but stayed at a distance while he howled and rubbed his head.
'Curse you, Meren, that was hot!'
Meren set the lamp down and folded his arms. 'I shall explain your situation only once. One of your men was found skulking around a deserted temple that happens to be near my ancestors' tombs. There have been two murders at my house, and I find you sneaking around. I want to know why. You're in trouble, Paser.'
'Murders!' Paser was still rubbing his red scalp. 'I know nothing of murder.'
'You've been following me for days,' Meren said. 'Why?'
Paser gave him a sly, sidelong glance. 'I was traveling in the same direction as you, not following.'
'I've no patience for your clumsy lies,' Meren said. 'Kysen, tell them to bring in the brand.'
As he finished speaking, Paser's eyes grew round. He gave a squeak, sprang past Meren, and was outside before his guards could move. Kysen ran after him, and Meren was close behind. As he left the deckhouse, Paser sprinted across the deck. He saw the men around the brazier, swerved, and ran for the railing. He might have jumped overboard if his foot hadn't tangled in a coiled rope. Paser tripped, fell forward, and banged his head on the railing.
At the sight, Meren slowed to a trot and joined his son in kneeling over Paser. They turned him over. He was bleeding from a gash on his forehead. One of the charioteers pressed a wad of cloth to the wound.
'Knocked senseless,' Meren said with a frustrated smile as they stood. 'I wonder which god I've offended to be so cursed with ill luck.' His smile faded. 'This isn't good, Ky.'
'Depend upon it, Father. Paser knows nothing. We discovered his man before he could tell what he knew.'
'But he might have been spying at the temple before last night.'
'Do you think even Paser would be foolish enough to remain if he'd discovered what was in the temple?'
'Perhaps not.' Meren began to walk back across the deck. 'I sent more men to the temple before dawn, but that meant there were but two to stand guard over the family. I had to use doorkeepers to watch Bentanta and Ra. Send for me when that fool wakes. I'm going back to the house.'
By the time he reached Baht, the household was stirring. He could hear the bray of donkeys in the granary court and the steady grinding sound of the querns. Hurrying to his office, he dismissed Reia and sat down with a pile of reports from the interviews his men had conducted with the household. He tried to fix his attention on them, but visions of Djet and Bentanta kept distracting him.
Wincing at a particularly vivid scene his imagination had called up, he dropped the reports on the floor and brought out his juggling balls. Tossing one in the air, he threw another from one hand to the other and caught the falling sphere. The rhythm established, he began to walk around the office while he concentrated on the balls.
He was desperately worried. The family was furious with him for the way he'd treated Ra and Bentanta, Idut especially. Nebetta still wouldn't speak to him and continued to blame him for Sennefer's death. And he hadn't found Sennefer's murderer. That is, he didn't think he'd found him. Or did he simply not want to admit he'd found him? If he didn't solve this murder soon, he was going to send the women to Memphis. Bener wouldn't like it, but she would have to go. He couldn't take any more chances with the murderer, not when this new danger threatened.
He needed more time, and now that the secret at the haunted temple was threatened by that worm Paser, he wasn't going to get it. Paser was part of Prince Hunefer's faction. Could Hunefer have found out about the desecration of Akhenaten's tomb? Secrecy was vital if another atrocity was to be prevented. There were still many at court who would love to deprive the king's brother of eternal life by destroying his body. He must make Paser speak. And he would, of that he was certain. Paser wasn't just dull-witted, he was a coward. It wouldn't take long to break him, once he woke.
Until then, he would do what he shouldn't-try to think of anything that would cast suspicion of Sennefer's murder elsewhere than on Ra. His plan to prove his brother's innocence hadn't worked as he'd thought. True to his contrary nature, Ra had cast even more doubt upon his own innocence.
He returned to the casket that held his juggling balls. Catching the three he'd been using, he took out a fourth. He held two balls in each hand, then began to toss the two in his right hand. Then he started with his left. When he had the rhythm going, he tried the exchange and missed. He grabbed for balls in two directions. They all fell.
Sighing, he picked them up and set the fourth ball aside. Soon he was juggling three again. Trying to add a fourth made him feel as frustrated as he'd been at the feast of rejoicing. He recalled that burning irritation, that trapped feeling he'd suffered while surrounded by bickering relatives. His temper was already short, and now Paser had added a new dose of disaster to his already overflowing cup.
Meren's hand froze in mid-toss. Balls dropped to the floor and skittered across the room. Virulent suspicions returned. Paser's invasion might be related to Sennefer's death. No, Kysen was right. Too many years at court had
