Magic of the Nile (28 page)

Chapter Seven

Tyema had been left in peace the night of the procession, not expected to appear at any functions, going to bed early and sleeping soundly. In the morning she found herself well rested physically, but her mind was in a whirl. As she lay in bed, watching the pearlescent early sun creeping into her room, she pondered how to best begin the second half of her task, searching for the sorcerer. She hadn’t the slightest notion where to begin and there’s no one she could ask for guidance
. I refuse to believe Sahure is the one. Yet other than him, I’ve seen only a few people touched by the flares of the evil so far, and they’re an odd assortment. Ladies of the court, a servant or two—how will I know who’s at the center of the web?
Maybe today is the right time for my first visit to the royal library.
Sighing, she rose to pluck Seknehure out of his cradle, since he was awake, making funny little noises, working himself up to announcing his hunger with his usual roar.

After a leisurely breakfast with Renebti, who assured her aunt she was enjoying the visit to Thebes, even if she was taking care of the baby most of the time, Tyema dressed in another of her new garments. She asked the servant outside the door to show her to the office Edekh was lending her for the meeting with Jemkhufu. Although not anticipating the encounter with any pleasure, she felt prepared, taking refuge in her high priestess role and drawing strength from acting on behalf of Sobek.

When she walked into the room she’d been given, Tyema was relieved to find herself alone. Awkward indeed if he’d arrived first and taken charge of the meeting.
She took a seat behind the black lacquered table with gilded edges and falcon heads at the corners and toyed with the blank slate and sharpened reed pens which had been placed there in a small green basket. After a perfunctory knock at the half-open door, Jemkhufu sauntered in.

Tyema was astounded to see faint flares of the black magic in the air around her scribe.
I know he’s not the sorcerer, but how in the name of Sobek has the evildoer managed to seek out my scribe? And why?

“Good morning, my lady.” Jemkhufu bowed and set his scribe’s bag on the floor beside the table. With one hand he snagged the other chair in the room, arranging it so he could sit opposite Tyema. “I’ve brought the notes we’ve received from our temple.”

“Unless your bag contains the letters I wrote to Lord Sahure and the ones he sent to me, don’t bother unpacking the contents,” she said.

Jemkhufu paused in the act of bending over and slowly straightened. All the color drained from his face as he opened his mouth to speak but she held up her hand.

“Don’t waste my time with more lies. Pharaoh’s Chief Scribe verified a total of three letters were forwarded to me from Sahure, after the initial one I received. You were in charge of all the temple’s correspondence, so I have to assume you intercepted them. And never mailed mine. I want to know why you betrayed my trust?”

He swallowed hard. “My lady, I thought it for the best. You were so upset after the captain left Ibis Nome, and the first letter from him didn’t seem to comfort you. It was obvious he was never going to set foot in Ibis again, never going to honor his responsibilities. I hated to see you hurt, hoping for something an arrogant noble from Thebes could never give.” Jemkhufu rose from his chair and came around the table, reaching for her.

Alarmed, Tyema left her seat and backed away until she was at the wall. “Beware, scribe, Sobek protects me, even now, here in Thebes.”

“I’d never harm you, how can such thoughts fly into your mind?” He frowned. “You mean more to me than anyone else in this world. Since I joined the temple I’ve sought to take care of you, and of the businesses you oversee. My only desire in this life is to continue in my role, running the temple’s various enterprises, providing assistance and guidance to you on raising your son. I hope someday we can mean even more to each other, if you’ll just—”

Disgust was a sour taste in the back of Tyema’s throat as she realized she’d put up with him for much too long in her desire to avoid unpleasantries.
She had one final question she very much wanted the answer to, before severing his ties with her temple. “Did you destroy our letters, mine and Sahure’s?”

He nodded. “Unread, I swear to you.”

“As if that makes the breach of trust any better,” she said. “As of this moment you’re no longer affiliated with the temple of Sobek in Ibis Nome, and I can’t in good conscience recommend you to the temple here, or anywhere else, given what you’ve done.”

Blinking, mouth falling open to reveal his crooked teeth, Jemkhufu retreated one step. “You—you can’t do without me, what are you saying? You can’t run the schools, conduct the cattle tally, you can’t even step outside the temple compound walls without falling ill. Someone as weak and frail as you needs a man like me at her side. Don’t let this warrior come between us, don’t be overawed by his standing in Thebes. When we go home—”

“How dare you speak of me in such terms? I can see I’ve been lenient about your attitude for much too long, if your delusions run along these lines.” White hot with fury over Jemkhufu alluding to her physical challenges, distressed she hadn’t managed to conceal them from him, Tyema drew herself up and shook her finger at him. “You won’t be journeying to Ibis Nome, not on my ship or any other way. I’ll have the nomarch issue a writ of banishment from the province. Now get out and leave Sobek’s property behind with me.”

His face changed, lines of worry smoothing out, smile playing on his lips, a cunning glint creeping into his eyes. “You might not want to make threats against me, I know things about you other people might be interested in.”

Appalled at the shift in his demeanor, Tyema felt her chest constrict. “And now you threaten me?”

“You need me more than I need employment at your rural, insignificant temple,” he said. “I’ve made some connections, have better prospects already here in Thebes. Tread carefully with your high and mighty attitude, my lady.”

“Issuing threats to a high priestess? A guest in Pharaoh’s palace?” Sahure and Edekh stood in the doorway and it was the former who’d spoken, hand on the hilt of his dagger.

Tension easing, Tyema counted to ten and took a deep breath of relief.
If I’d had to appeal to Sobek to intervene to protect me from physical assault, who knows what might have happened? The Great One is never subtle in his approach to such things.
Remembering the scene years ago as he’d destroyed the Hyksos ships and killed the Hyksos commander in front of her when she was a child, Tyema grew dizzy.

Sahure was at her side, having shoved past the scribe. He put his arm around her waist. “Are you all right?”

Straightening her spine, but not pushing him away, she nodded. Wishing her mouth hadn’t gone so dry from the stress of this meeting, she said, “Indeed. I’ve just relieved this untrustworthy scribe of all his duties and cut him from the temple staff.”

“So he did intercept our letters?” Jaw clenched, Sahure glared at Jemkhufu.

Now Edekh spoke. “Tampering with mail sent under the seal of the Great Royal Wife is a crime punishable by death. Captain Sahure’s letters were forwarded to Lady Tyema by Queen Ashayet’s express command.”

Angry as she was, Tyema didn’t wish for Jemkhufu’s execution.
I saw too much death as a child, during the Hyksos invasion.
“Please, I just want him out of my sight, exiled, not dead.”

“You’re too kind.” Sahure’s comment was virtually a growl. “He doesn’t deserve mercy.”

“He gave the temple many years of excellent service. I should have realized his expectations had grown unreasonable.”
I knew I needed to take action and took the excuse of my pregnancy and new motherhood not to force a change. I have to do better in the future.
She sighed.

“Don’t take any blame on your own shoulders for his criminal tendencies,” Sahure said.
 

Edekh stood aside to allow two guards to enter the room. Pointing at Jemkhufu with his staff, he said, “Take this man into custody for offenses against Pharaoh.”

Jemkhufu offered no resistance, standing with a sullen frown on his face as the soldiers twisted his arms behind his back and waited for Edekh to issue further instructions.

“My lady, he deserves a lashing at the least, for having abrogated his sacred duties as a scribe,” Edekh said. “He’s brought shame on the entire profession through his actions.”

Tyema clenched her hands at her sides. “I don’t want to broadcast this matter in Thebes. The crime is internal to my temple. No one else’s business but mine and Sobek’s.”

“The only way to ensure his silence is to execute him.” Edekh’s enthusiasm indicated he’d relish giving the order immediately. “And I must correct you, but in strictest fact he committed the crime against the Great Royal Wife. Hard for me to overlook the offense, although I’ve no wish to share the news a scribe transgressed in such a manner.”

Still in the grip of the soldiers, Jemkhufu fell to his knees, hands clasped. Fat tears rolled down his cheeks. “Mercy, Lady Tyema, have mercy! Remember all the years of faithful service I’ve rendered to you and your temple. I swear if you let me go, I’ll never speak of this to anyone.”

Sick to her stomach as the scribe groveled and begged, Tyema averted her eyes.

Striding forward, Sahure put his dagger to the scribe’s throat, as the two soldiers held him immobile. “You committed a crime against me as well, jackal spawn. If the lady chooses to let you go free I’ll honor her wish, but I swear on the eyes of Horus, I’ll hunt you down and kill you myself if any word of what you’ve done, what you know or think you know, ever becomes public.” He pressed the tip of the knife hard enough against Jemkhufu’s neck to draw blood. “Swear yourself to silence.”

“I swear, please don’t kill me!” Tears poured down the scribe’s cheeks and his voice was high pitched in terror.

Jaw clenched, Sahure nodded and stepped back, slamming the dagger into its sheath. “I’m satisfied.”

“I’m not, not entirely, but I’ll yield to the two of you, as being the most directly affected by his crime.” Frowning, Edekh gave the appropriate orders despite his apparent misgivings about leniency. “Escort this man to his quarters to collect his possessions. Go through each item, ensure he’s taken nothing else from the temple he served or this palace. Then escort him to the city gates and put him out of Thebes.”

“You’re banishing me from the city?” Jemkhufu’s knees buckled.

“Pharaoh wouldn’t want such as you inside the walls of his capital,” Edekh said. “Best you make your way somewhere else before we change our minds. Leave Egypt.” The Chief Scribe gestured to the guards. “Get him out of here.”

As the guards dragged him from the room, Tyema groped for the chair and sat. Her mind was full of chaotic thoughts and worries. Sahure knelt beside her. “Are you all right?”

She nodded but words were beyond her. The sense of utter betrayal by a person she’d trusted with the business of Sobek’s temple was like a knife in her own heart.

“I hate to prolong this scene,” Edekh said, “But the odds are good the scoundrel was doing more than intercepting mail. A person who’d risk such a crime probably had no qualms about skimming from the offerings, filing incorrect tallies for assets—”

“When I was there I remember the two of you discussing some anomaly in the annual cattle tally,” Sahure said. “How did you come to hire him when the temple was first reestablished? What were his references?”

“He came well recommended, from a temple in another nome.” Tyema was horrified to think she might have unwittingly allowed Jemkhufu to steal from Sobek.

The two men exchanged glances. “Perhaps they were also ridding themselves of a troublemaker,” Edekh said.
 

“What am I going to do now? Where will I find someone to replace him?” The thought of managing the temple’s many enterprises for even a short time without a scribe to assist her was daunting.
And when can I get back to Ibis? I’m no closer to solving the black magic problem here.

“If you’ll allow me, I’d like to assign two men to your temple,” Edekh said, sitting in the empty chair.
 

Hope lightened her heart for a moment, but then reality intruded. “The suggestion is kind of you, but scribes from Thebes aren’t likely to want employment in a rural temple in Ibis Nome.”

“On the contrary, it’s an excellent thing for an up and coming scribe to be selected by me to sort out a complicated situation, no matter where in Egypt the problem lies.” Edekh winked. “Having Pharaoh’s Chief Scribe in his debt is a coup for any ambitious young man in our profession.”

She chuckled. “I’m sure.”

“My first order to the men I assign will be to review all records, every transaction conducted for your temple by that sniveling jackal and sort out any inconsistencies. Two men trained here under my eyes will be more than capable of doing an audit while running your scribe school, and all the other businesses Sahure has mentioned to me. Then they’ll find local scribes to replace them, making recommendations to you as the final authority, of course.”

“Of course,” Tyema murmured, bemused by the way Edekh was solving her problem.

“I’ll make the assignment for a year and the final requirement will be providing your new scribes with advanced training to keep the temple businesses running at top efficiency. The carrot of instruction from my men will attract high level candidates. A connection to Thebes is always to be valued.”