Death Comes As the End (14 page)

Renisenb looked thoughtfully at Teti who was busily making a garland of flowers for her doll. Teti was frowning a little with the concentration of what she was doing. There had been a time when Teti had looked so like Khay, pushing out her underlip, turning her head a little sideways, that Renisenb’s heart had turned over with pain and love. But now not only was Khay’s face dim in Renisenb’s memory, but Teti no longer had that trick of head turning and pushing out her lip. There had been other moments when Renisenb had held Teti close to her, feeling the child still part of her own body, her own living flesh, with a passionate sense of ownership. ‘She is mine, all mine,’ she had said to herself.

Now watching her, Renisenb thought, ‘She is
me
–and she is
Khay
–’

Then Teti looked up, and seeing her mother, she smiled. It was a grave, friendly smile, with confidence in it and pleasure.

Renisenb thought: ‘No, she is not me and she is not
Khay–she is
herself
. She is Teti. She is alone, as I am alone, as we are all alone. If there is love between us we shall be friends all our life–but if there is not love she will grow up and we shall be strangers. She is Teti and I am Renisenb.’

Kait was looking at her curiously.

‘What
do
you want, Renisenb? I do not understand.’

Renisenb did not answer. How put into words for Kait the things she hardly understood herself. She looked round her, at the courtyard walls, at the gaily coloured porch of the house, at the smooth waters of the lake and the graceful little pleasure pavilion, the neat flower beds and the clumps of papyrus. All safe, shut in, nothing to fear, with around her the murmur of the familiar home sounds, the babble of children’s voices, the raucous, far-off shrill clamour of women in the house, the distant lowing of cattle.

She said slowly:

‘One cannot see the River from here…’

Kait looked surprised. ‘Why should one want to see it?’

Renisenb said slowly:

‘I am stupid. I do not know…’

Before her eyes, very clearly, she saw spread out the panorama of green fields, rich and lush, and beyond, far away, an enchanted distance of pale rose and amethyst
fading into the horizon, and cleaving the two, the pale silver blue of the Nile…

She caught her breath–for with the vision, the sights and sounds around her faded–there came instead a stillness, a richness, an infinite satisfaction…

She said to herself: ‘If I turn my head, I shall see Hori. He will look up from his papyrus and smile at me…Presently the sun will set and there will be darkness and then I shall sleep…That will be death.’

‘What did you say, Renisenb?’

Renisenb started. She was not aware she had spoken aloud. She came back from her vision to reality. Kait was looking at her curiously.

‘You said “
Death
”, Renisenb. What were you thinking?’

Renisenb shook her head.

‘I don’t know. I didn’t mean–’ She looked round her again. How pleasant it was, this family scene, with the splashing water, and the children at play. She drew a deep breath.

‘How peaceful it is here. One can’t imagine anything–horrible–happening here.’

But it was by the lake that they found Ipy the next morning. He was sprawled face downwards with his face in the water where a hand had held him while he drowned.

Imhotep sat huddled down upon himself. He looked very much older, a broken shrunken old man. On his face was a piteous look of bewilderment.

Henet brought him food and coaxed him to take it.

‘Yes, yes, Imhotep, you must keep up your strength.’

‘Why should I? What is strength? Ipy was strong–strong in youth and beauty–and now he lies in the brine bath…My son, my dearly loved son. The last of my sons.’

‘No, no, Imhotep–you have Yahmose, your good Yahmose.’

‘For how long? No, he too is doomed. We are all doomed. What evil is this that has come upon us? Could I know that such things would come of taking a concubine into my house? It is an accepted thing
to do–it is righteous and according to the law of men and Gods. I treated her with honour. Why, then, should these things come upon me? Or is it Ashayet who wreaks vengeance upon me? Is it she who will not forgive? Certainly she has made no answer to my petition. The evil business still goes on.’

‘No, no, Imhotep. You must not say that. So short a time has passed since the bowl was placed in the offering chamber. Does one not know how long affairs of law and justice take in this world–how endless are the delays in the Nomarch’s court–and still more when a case goes up to the Vizier. Justice is justice, in this world and the next, a business that moves slowly but is adjusted with righteousness in the end.’

Imhotep shook his head doubtfully. Henet went on.

‘Besides, Imhotep, you must remember that Ipy was not Ashayet’s son–he was born to your sister Ankh. Why, then, should Ashayet concern herself violently on his behalf? But with Yahmose, it will be different–Yahmose will recover because Ashayet will see to it that he does.’

‘I must admit, Henet, that your words comfort me…There is much in what you say. Yahmose, it is true, recovers strength now every day. He is a good loyal son–but oh! for my Ipy–such spirit–such beauty!’ Imhotep groaned anew.

‘Alas! Alas!’ Henet wailed in sympathy.

‘That accursed girl and her beauty! Would I had never set eyes on her.’

‘Yes, indeed, dear master. A daughter of Seth if ever I saw one. Learned in magic and evil spells, there can be no doubt about it.’

There was a tap of a stick on the floor and Esa came limping into the hall. She gave a derisive snort.

‘Has no one in this house any sense? Have you nothing better to do than bleat out curses against an unfortunate girl who took your fancy and who indulged in a little feminine spite and malice, goaded by the stupid behaviour of the stupid wives of your stupid sons?’

‘A little spiteful malice–is that what you call it, Esa? When, of my three sons, two are dead and one is dying! Oh! that my mother should say such a thing to me!’

‘It seems necessary that someone should say them since you cannot recognize facts for what they are. Wipe out of your mind this silly superstitious belief that a dead girl’s spirit is working this evil. It was a
live
hand that held Ipy head down in the lake to drown, and a live hand that dropped poison into the wine that Yahmose and Sobek drank. You have an enemy, yes, Imhotep, but an enemy here in this house. And the proof is that since Hori’s advice was taken and Renisenb herself prepares Yahmose’s food, or a slave prepares it while she watches
and that her hand carries it to him, since then, I say, Yahmose has gained health and strength every day. Try to stop being a fool, Imhotep, and moaning and beating your head–in all of which Henet is being extremely helpful–’

‘Oh, Esa, how you misjudge me!’

‘In which, I say, Henet assists you–either because she is a fool too, or for some other reason–’

‘May Ra forgive you, Esa, for your unkindness to a poor lonely woman!’

Esa swept on, shaking her stick in an impressive gesture.

‘Pull yourself together, Imhotep, and
think
. Your dead wife Ashayet, who was a very lovely woman and
not
a fool, by the way, may exert her influence for you in the other world, but can hardly be expected to do your thinking for you in this one! We have got to
act
, for if we do not then there will be more deaths.’

‘A live enemy? An enemy in this house? You really believe that, Esa?’

‘Of course I believe it, because it is the only thing that makes sense.’

‘But then we are all in danger?’

‘Certainly we are. In danger not of spells and spirit hands, but of human agency–of live fingers that drop poison in food and drink, of a human figure that steals
up behind a boy who returns late at night from the village and forces his head down into the waters of the lake!’

Imhotep said thoughtfully: ‘Strength would be needed for that.’

‘On the face of it, yes, but I am not sure. Ipy had drunk much beer in the village. He was in a wild and boastful mood. It may be that he returned home unsteady on his feet and that, having no fear of the person who accosted him, he bent of his own accord to bathe his face in the lake. Little strength would be needed then.’

‘What are you trying to say, Esa? That a
woman
did this thing? But it is impossible–the whole thing is impossible–there can be no enemy in this house or we should know it–
I
should know it!’

‘There is an evil of the heart, Imhotep, that does not show in the face.’

‘You mean that one of our servants, or a slave–’

‘No servant and no slave, Imhotep.’

‘One of ourselves? Or else–do you mean Hori or Kameni? But Hori is one of the family, he has proved himself faithful and trustworthy. And Kameni–he is a stranger, true, but he is of our blood and he has proved his devotion by his zeal in my service. Moreover he came to me only this morning and urged that I should consent to his marriage with Renisenb.’

‘Oh, he did, did he?’ Esa showed interest. ‘And what did you say?’

‘What could I say?’ Imhotep was fretful. ‘Is this a time to talk of marriage? I said as much to him.’

‘And what did he say to that?’

‘He said that in his opinion this
was
the time to talk of marriage. He said that Renisenb was not safe in this house.’

‘I wonder,’ said Esa. ‘I very much wonder…Is she? I thought she was–and Hori thought so–but now…’

Imhotep went on.

‘Can one have marriages and funeral ceremonies going on side by side? It is not decent. The whole Nome would talk about it.’

‘This is no time for convention,’ said Esa. ‘Especially since it would seem that the embalmers’ men are with us permanently. All this must be a blessing to Ipi and Montu–the firm must be doing exceptionally well.’

‘They have put their charges up by ten per cent!’ Imhotep was momentarily diverted. ‘Iniquitous! They say that labour is more expensive.’

‘They should give us a cut rate price for quantity!’ Esa smiled grimly at her joke.

‘My dear mother,’ Imhotep looked at her in horror. ‘This is not a jest.’

‘All life is a jest, Imhotep–and it is death who laughs
last. Do you not hear it at every feast? Eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow you die? Well, that is very true for us here–it is a question only of
whose
death will come tomorrow.’

‘What you say is terrible–terrible! What can be done?’

‘Trust no one,’ said Esa. ‘That is the first, the most vital thing.’ She repeated with emphasis: ‘
Trust no one
.’

Henet began to sob.

‘Why do you look at
me
…I’m sure if anyone is worthy of trust, I am. I’ve proved it over all these years. Don’t listen to her, Imhotep.’

‘There, there, my good Henet–naturally I trust you. I know only too well your true and devoted heart.’

‘You know nothing,’ said Esa. ‘None of us know anything. That is our danger.’

‘You accused
me
,’ whined Henet.

‘I cannot accuse. I have neither knowledge nor proof–only suspicion.’

Imhotep looked up sharply.

‘You have suspicion–of whom?’

Esa said slowly: ‘I have suspected once–and twice–and a third time. I will be honest, I suspected first Ipy–but Ipy is dead, so that suspicion was false. Then I suspected another person–but, on the very day of Ipy’s death, yet a third idea came to me…’

She paused.

‘Are Hori and Kameni in the house? Send for them here–yes, and Renisenb too from the kitchen. And Kait and Yahmose. I have something to say and all the house should hear it.’

II

Esa looked round at the assembled family. She met Yahmose’s grave and gentle glance, Kameni’s ready smile, the frightened inquiry in Renisenb’s eyes, the placid incurious glance of Kait, the quiet inscrutability of Hori’s thoughtful gaze, the irritable fear of Imhotep’s twitching face and the avid curiosity and–yes–pleasure in Henet’s eyes.

She thought: ‘Their faces tell me nothing. They show only the outward emotion. Yet surely, if I am right, there must be
some
betrayal.’

Aloud she said: ‘I have something to say to you all–but first I will speak only to Henet–here in front of all of you.’

Henet’s expression changed–the avidity and the pleasure went out of it. She looked frightened. Her voice rose in a shrill protest.

‘You suspect me, Esa. I knew it! You will make a
case against me and how am I, a poor woman with no great wits, to defend myself? I shall be condemned–condemned unheard.’

‘Not unheard,’ said Esa with irony and saw Hori smile.

Henet went on, her voice growing more and more hysterical.

‘I have done nothing–I am innocent…Imhotep, my dearest master, save me…’ She flung herself down and clasped him round the knees. Imhotep began to splutter indignantly, meanwhile patting Henet’s head.

‘Really, Esa, I protest–this is disgraceful…’

Esa cut him short.

‘I have made no accusation–I do not accuse without proof. I ask only that Henet shall explain to us here the meaning of certain things she has said.’

‘I have said nothing–nothing at all…’

‘Oh yes, you have,’ said Esa. ‘There are words I heard with my own ears–and my ears are sharp even if my eyes are dim. You said that you knew something about Hori. Now what is it that you know about Hori?’

Hori looked slightly surprised.

‘Yes, Henet,’ he said. ‘What do you know about me? Let us have it.’

Henet sat back on her haunches and wiped her eyes. She looked sullen and defiant.

‘I know nothing,’ she said. ‘What should I know?’

‘That is what we are waiting for you to tell us,’ said Hori. Henet shrugged her shoulders.

‘I was just talking. I meant nothing.’

Esa said: ‘I will repeat to you your own words. You said that we all despised you, but that you knew a lot of what was going on in this house–and that you saw more than many clever people saw.

‘And then you said this–that when Hori met you, he looked at you as though you didn’t exist, as though he saw something behind you–
something that wasn’t there
.’

‘He always looks like that,’ said Henet sullenly. ‘I might be an insect, the way he looks at me–something that practically doesn’t matter.’

Esa said slowly:

‘That phrase has remained in my mind–something behind–
something that wasn’t there
. Henet said, “He should have looked at
me
.” And she went on to speak of Satipy–yes, of Satipy–and of how Satipy was clever, but where was Satipy now?…’

Esa looked round.

‘Does that mean nothing to any of you? Think of Satipy–Satipy who is dead…And remember one should look
at
a person–not at something that isn’t there…’

There was a moment’s dead silence and then Henet screamed. It was a high, thin scream–a scream, it would seem, of sheer terror. She cried out incoherently:

‘I didn’t–save me–master, don’t let her…I’ve said nothing–nothing.’

Imhotep’s pent up rage burst out.

‘This is unpardonable,’ he roared. ‘I will not have this poor woman terrified and accused. What have you against her? By your own words, nothing at all.’

Yahmose joined in without his usual timidity.

‘My father is right. If you have a definite accusation to bring against Henet, bring it.’

‘I do not accuse her,’ said Esa slowly.

She leaned on her stick. Her figure seemed to have shrunk. She spoke slowly and heavily.

Yahmose turned with authority to Henet.

‘Esa is not accusing you of causing the evils that have happened, but if I understand her rightly, she thinks that you have certain knowledge which you are withholding. Therefore, Henet, if there is anything you know, about Hori or another, now is the time to speak. Here, before us all. Speak. What knowledge have you?’

Henet shook her head.

‘None.’

‘Be very sure of what you are saying, Henet. Knowledge is dangerous.’

‘I know nothing. I swear it. I swear it by the Nine Gods of the Ennead, by the Goddess Maat, by Ra himself.’

Henet was trembling. Her voice had none of its usual whining affected quality. It sounded awed and sincere.

Esa gave a deep sigh. Her figure bent forward. She murmured:

‘Help me back to my room.’

Hori and Renisenb came quickly to her.

Esa said: ‘Not you, Renisenb. I will have Hori.’

She leaned on him as he helped her from the room towards her own quarters. Glancing up at him she saw his face was stern and unhappy.

She murmured: ‘Well, Hori?’

‘You have been unwise, Esa, very unwise.’

‘I had to know.’

‘Yes–but you have taken a terrible risk.’

‘I see. So you too think the same?’

‘I have thought so for some time, but there is no proof–no shadow of proof. And even now, Esa,
you
have no
proof
. It is all in your mind.’

‘It is enough that I
know
.’

‘It may be too much.’

‘What do you mean? Oh yes, of course.’

‘Guard yourself, Esa. From now on you are in danger.’

‘We must try and act quickly.’

‘That, yes, but what can we do? There must be proof.’

‘I know.’

They could say no more. Esa’s little maid came running to her mistress. Hori relinquished her to the girl’s care and turned away. His face was grave and perplexed.