Bener had been staring over Kysen's shoulder, her lower lip caught between her teeth. 'Even with the sentries in a stupor, there could have been little time to act.'
'I agree,' Ebana said.
'Therefore it is most likely that the attacker was one of those closest to pharaoh's tent,' Bener continued.
'Who had charge of it that night?' Kysen asked.
Ebana drew nearer Bener, his harsh features softened by conjecture. 'Karoya was wounded and unable to attend pharaoh.'
'Which means that Mose would have been on duty,' Kysen said.
'Yes.' Ebana glanced from Kysen to Bener. 'Mose and one other. The Nubian called Turi.'
The conversation subsided as all three of them engaged in contemplation. Finally Bener spoke in a musing tone.
'I wonder if either Mose or Turi have dealings with Dilalu, Yamen, or Zulaya.'
Ebana's head swiveled in her direction. 'By the gods, little cousin, your heart is as devious as your father's.'
'Such a possibility is the result of following a reasonable path of thought,' Bener replied.
'Indeed,' Ebana said faintly as he glanced at Kysen.
'She has always been this way,' Kysen said. 'Only of late, she has insisted upon meddling in Father's affairs.'
Ignoring him, Bener said, 'You must find a way to question Mose and Turi.'
'How simple.' Kysen threw up his hands. 'I'll trot into the palace and ask them to a feast, shall I?'
'Hmm.'
Kysen scowled at his sister. 'No, Bener.'
'You're right,' she said. 'They wouldn't come.'
Holding up a hand in protest, Ebana interrupted them. 'Enough, both of you. There's no time for grand designs. I'll seek out the Nubians myself.'
'And I'll make my own inquiries,' Kysen said. 'I can seek Othrys's help. The pirate might know something of Mose or Turi, if Bener will send a message for me in her… creative manner.' He kept his mouth shut when Bener smirked at him.
'How fortunate for you, brother, that I don't hold your condescending attitude against you.'
The patrons of the Divine Lotus were more drunk than usual. Their drunkenness had a wild and desperate air about it. Everyone from the maids who served the food to the most successful Canaanite smuggler jumped at sudden sounds and stared into dark corners with slit-eyed acuity. On the floor in one of those dark corners, Meren sat pretending to drink spiced beer. He was waiting for Abu as arranged, and he was as wary as anyone, for Horemheb had returned to Memphis. At the general's command, the city police had doubled their patrols. It had been one of these that he'd barely escaped three nights ago.
When he arrived at the tavern this evening, the Lotus's owner, Ese, told him she'd had visits from three different patrols. Since Ese disliked men intensely and noblemen in particular, Meren was uneasy using her tavern as a meeting place now that she felt threatened. However, Othrys, who had accompanied him, assured him that Ese was more afraid of him than the city police and wouldn't reveal Meren's presence. Othrys was entertaining his allies in piracy at the moment- sailors, ship captains, port officials, Asiatic merchants, and the corrupt Egyptian traders who bought goods for temples, nobles, and government offices. The Divine Lotus was more packed than usual.
The crowding suited Meren, for it meant that he was ignored in favor of the abundant drink and roast ox Othrys had provided. He took a sip of beer, trying to ignore the stale taste. He was feeling lost and powerless, as he had when Akhenaten killed his father for refusing to renounce Amun. After he'd avoided being killed himself, Meren had spent his life trying to make certain he'd never be powerless again-and he'd failed. His impotence was a rat gnawing at his gut, and every action he took reminded him of how lost he was.
He'd never realized how much he'd taken for granted until he'd been forced from his position and his home. Although in the past he'd taken various guises in the service of pharaoh, he'd always chosen to play the part of men of whom he'd had adequate experience-rich merchants, soldiers, foreign nobles. Such disguises were too dangerous now.
Thus continual vigilance was essential, for his must give no orders-something he did as naturally as he breathed. He must walk differently, not stride as was his habit and expect others to get out of his way. He couldn't look at people in his own manner, for a great man stared over the heads of most and looked directly at anyone he wished. He had to amend his manners; they were those of an aristocrat. He had to fetch his own food and clothing and empty the bowl of sand under the toilet in his room.
Every moment he had to guard his speech and roughen his accent to that of a Greek commoner. But what had almost given him away several times was his habit of resting his hand on the dagger thrust into his belt-that dagger he could no longer wear without revealing himself. Greek sailors didn't go about wearing weapons any more than did ordinary Egyptians.
Meren tensed as a foreign merchant stumbled in his direction. It was Dilalu, who was known to frequent the Divine Lotus. Asiatics like him were recognizable by their multicolored and fringed wool robes. The merchant's clothing danced with embroidery and gold appliques. He had a wide face, but the lower half was obscured by a beard and curling mustache. Meren drew in his legs as the man zigzagged toward him and into a pool of lamplight. If Dilalu got a look at his face, he might be recognized.
Drawing his legs close to his chest, Meren tried to melt into the corner, but Dilalu's foot hit his ankle. The merchant tripped and would have plummeted to the floor in front of Meren had someone not caught him. Abu hoisted the man upright, twirled him around, and aimed him at one of Ese's prettiest dancers. The girl caught him, laughed, and began whispering in his ear. Soon Dilalu was giggling, his near accident forgotten.
Abu lowered himself beside Meren, who sighed and whispered, 'My thanks.'
'It was nothing, lor-it was nothing. What is Dilalu doing here?'
'Getting drunk on wine and pleasure, from what I can see. The Divine Lotus attracts most foreigners. You know that. I have to get away from this drunken offal before he runs into me again. Follow me to the courtyard.'
Meren threaded his way through Othrys's numerous acquaintances and into Ese's courtyard. There amorous couples groped each other among the shrubs and flowers. Once Meren had found an isolated refuge in the shadows behind a tamarisk tree, Abu began to whisper to Meren.
'I have news-'
Meren shook his head. 'That can wait. How does my family?'
'Lord Kysen was taken to the palace three days ago.'
Meren felt the world spin for a moment. 'He came back?'
Abu nodded. 'Pharaoh spoke to him, but he was taken home.' Abu frowned and rubbed his chin. 'Afterward the men guarding your household were removed.'
'It's a trap. Pharaoh has been an excellent student, Abu.'
'Aye, but that's not what disturbs me. I was able to view the house for a brief time from the roof of another building.'
'You should be careful,' Meren said. 'They're looking for you as well as me.'
'I'm careful. I saw Lady Bener talking to her personal maid in the kitchen yard.'
'She's well?'
'Too well. You remember how she used to look as a child when she'd devised some plan of devilment that had succeeded? She wore that same look while she was talking to the maid.'
Meren covered his face with his hands. 'Oh no. She has involved herself.'
'I think so, because today Reia saw Lord Ebana enter the house.'
Startled, Meren gaped at Abu. 'How long has he been there?'
'I know not, lord.'
Meren groaned. 'Bener was always his favorite niece. She would tell him her plots and plans, and he'd keep her secrets. She remembers him as he was before pharaoh murdered his family, and I'd wager a chariot that it was
