The City of Refuge: Book 1 of The Memphis Cycle (16 page)

Khonsu turned to Paser. “Do you remember where you found the bowl?”

“We went into so many houses,” Paser said. “I-I'm not sure. I think it was in the northern quarter.' His expression brightened. “I could try to find it again.”

“That's fair enough,” Khonsu said. He looked over at Nebamun. “Your Grace,” he said, “I ask that you extend your courtesy to assigning someone trustworthy to accompany Captain Paser to this treasure-house tomorrow. I'll want a full accounting of this hoard. And, if possible, some clue as to whose house it came from, so that I can return the piece to his family.”

“I'll go, Your Grace,” said Perineb. “I can write a fair hand.”

Nebamun's odd rigidity had passed. His smile was completely vanished, but his expression grew slightly warmer. “Thank you, Perineb,” he said. “But I'll accompany Paser myself. And I think it had best be done at once.”

“Your Grace!” Paser gasped.

“It can wait until morning, Your Grace,” Khonsu said, after exchanging startled glances with Perineb. “It's been a long day.”

“At once,” Nebamun repeated.

“I thank Your Grace,” said Khonsu as Nebamun rose, shook out his robe, and moved to the door.

“We shall begin right away, Commander,” said the Second Prophet. “Be good enough to detail two of your best men to accompany me. I want unbiased witnesses.' And then, more sternly, “Paser...”

“But Your Grace,” Paser began again, aghast.

Nebamun looked at him. “Yes?” he said.

“I found it-' Paser's voice faltered into silence at Nebamun's expression.

Seti had been listening with a contemptuous scowl. “You found its hiding place,” he said. “But you weren't the one to hide it. This may have been a family's entire wealth. What if they're in need of it as we speak?”

“But we don't know whose it is!” Paser objected.

Nebamun's expression grew cold. “That may be,” he said, “But we do know whose it is not. And we can find out the rest, if we set our minds to it. Now I want to see the house where you found it.”

Khonsu looked at the Second Prophet and found his chill, slightly speculative expression tinged with an inexplicable hint of irony. But Nebamun made no further comment as he followed Paser out the door.

XXV

“Paser found no trace of it at all, Your Grace?” Khonsu asked later that evening when the Second Prophet had returned. He and Seti were alone with Lord Nebamun; the rest of the group had been sent to bed by Perineb, who had then gone to perform the evening ceremonies before the shrine that had been set up for the expedition.

“None,” said Nebamun. He was pale and heavy-eyed with fatigue, with lines gouged beside his mouth from a long night spent going throughout the city with Paser in tow. “Nothing in any of the places we visited to indicate that anyone had ever even tried to bury treasure there.' His mouth moved into a travesty of a smile. “I must admit, I didn't expect to find anything, either.”

“Is it possible that Paser didn't take you to all the places he went to?” Seti asked.

Nebamun shook his head. “We inspected every house mentioned in his report,” he sighed. “We found nothing at all. No indication that anything had ever been buried in any of those places-”

“But-forgive me for interrupting, Your Grace,” Seti said. “Could he have omitted one of the places in his report?”

“He could have,” Nebamun admitted with another sigh. “Though for that to be possible, I'd have to doubt the honesty of my entire escort, for his report was witnessed and attested by several of my officers.' He looked over at Khonsu. “Should I have their effects searched for form's sake?” he asked.

“It was already done, Your Grace,” Khonsu said gently.

Nebamun raised a hand. “Do it again,” he said. “Say it is at my command if you think there'll be any problems. No. I will make the announcement, myself. Start with my belongings. That should forestall any complaints.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Khonsu said.

Seti was listening with a frown. “With Your Grace's permission,” he said, “While it's important to get to the bottom of Paser's theft, we should be looking for the tomb of our ghost.”

Nebamun lifted his eyebrows.

“Neb-Aten,” Seti said. “That chariot is obviously tomb goods. It belonged to a man of wealth and rank. You and Commander Khonsu both saw the “ghost', which bled and breathed and spoke like a mortal man. If we can find the tomb and see that it was looted, we may be a step closer to finding out who was responsible.'

“We already know that the chariot was stolen,” Nebamun said. “Proving that the tomb is looted will accomplish nothing.”

“I can't agree, Your Grace,” Seti persisted. “It'll help us put an end to the looting, at the least. Why, Your Grace has just ordered that we track down the owners of that bowl so that we can return it to them. We owe at least that much to Neb-Aten's kin.”

“The man is dead,” Nebamun said flatly. “And his family is extinct. Can't we let him sleep in peace?”

Seti lowered his head in the face of Nebamun's vehemence, but though his voice was quiet, his tone was insistent. “From what I have heard Your Grace say, you knew the man,” he said. “My father was a friend of Prince Nakht, and he knew and liked Neb-Aten as well. The dishonor was undeserved and, most now agree, forgotten. Neb-Aten was from the royal house on both sides, and he does have living kin. Princess Merit'taui, his mother, was Pharaoh Tutankhamun's aunt. She married again and bore one child, Neb-Aten's half-sister. Don't we owe that lady something? She has a claim to some of the treasure in that tomb and a duty to the tomb's occupant who was, after all, her brother.”

Lord Nebamun pushed himself abruptly to his feet and paced to the doorway. “Has she ever acknowledged the relationship?” he asked over his shoulder. “Or has she turned a blind eye to the kinship in the hope that others will do so as well?”

“Her actions, or lack of them, don't change the facts of the matter,” said Khonsu. “General Seti is right, Your Grace. We can't do the one thing and leave the other undone.”

Nebamun looked out the doorway in silence for a long time before he turned back. “Have it as you wish,” he said. “Captain Karoya will supervise the search of the city. The two of you will take whatever escort you think suitable and look for Neb-Aten's tomb. And you'll let me know what you find.”

“Very good, Your Grace,” Seti said with another bow.

Nebamun went slowly back to his chair and sat down again. He closed his eyes after a moment.

“Your Grace?”

“What is it, Commander?” Nebamun asked wearily.

“Paser. What is Your Grace's will with him?” asked Khonsu. “Shall I have him returned to Khemnu or Memphis?”

Lord Nebamun opened his eyes and frowned up at the ceiling. “No,” he said after a long moment's frowning concentration. “That could lead to things I don't want to think about right now. Losing his rank and his livelihood is punishment enough, and he'll stand trial at Khemnu when we finally leave this place. By then his family might- I don't know. If only I had some way to protect -' He fell silent.

“I'm sorry, Your Grace,” Khonsu said, caught by the nudge of an idea.

“It isn't your fault,” Nebamun returned after a strained pause. “Greed and envy are as old as time.”

“But there may be a way to salvage it, if Your Grace will allow me,” Khonsu said.

Nebamun sat up and opened his eyes at Khonsu. “I am listening said.

“Paser is a liar and a thief,” Khonsu said. “This night's events have proven that to me. I'm convinced that he's found a cache of valuables and is planning to conceal it until he can get back and plunder it thoroughly. I'd like to find it, myself, so it can be returned to its rightful owners. If we give him the run of the city and tell him we're satisfied that, aside from taking the one item, for which he's been reduced in the ranks, he acted in good faith, he may lead us to the valuables.”

“Have him followed...' Seti said slowly. “It may just work. I've got some good trackers in my group, and I know you do, as well. That fellow Ruia, for one. If he really had only that one fall from grace, it'll serve to exonerate him. Well, Your Grace? What do you say?”

Nebamun's mouth had a slightly ironic twist to it, but he nodded. “Order it as the two of you see fit, General,” he said. “I won't forbid it. Who knows but what some good may come of it.' He rose and looked from Khonsu to Seti. “Or not,” he added. “And now I wish to retire. It has been a long day, and I am tired. General, thank you for your assistance. Your stewardship of this venture in my absence was exemplary.”

Seti's color heightened as he and Khonsu bowed and started to leave.

“And Commander-' Nebamun's quiet voice stopped them.

Khonsu turned back.

Nebamun was still standing beside his chair. He seemed drawn in upon himself, as though he were cold, or in pain. “You had word from your daughter today,” he said. For all the pain of his expression and his bearing, his voice was as warm and supple as always. “Is she well?”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Khonsu said. “She sent me her love and a recipe

“That's good,” Lord Nebamun said. “When next you write to her little ladyship, tell her that Nebamun son of Nakht son of Ahmose sends his respectful greetings.”

**   **   **

Khonsu summoned Paser to him at his headquarters the next morning and told him that his rank had been reduced for the act of taking property rightly Pharaoh's. “But that isn't as serious a thing as the original charge,” he had concluded. “You won't be tried for theft, and when we return to Memphis, you'll come with us. His Grace has a kindness for you and your family, and he doesn't want you to suffer any more than you should.”

“Very kind of His Grace,” Paser sneered. “And what'm I expected to do while I'm here? Enjoy the sights?”

Khonsu refused to be drawn into a quarrel. “I won't object to you making yourself useful,” he said, turning toward Ruia, who was waiting with a report. “But you can suit yourself. By His Grace's orders, you have the run of the city.”

Paser had seemed nonplused, but he said nothing. After a moment he moved off.

Khonsu watched him go, then nodded to Ruia, who saluted and went softly after Paser.

**   **   **

“Find anything, Commander?” Mersu asked. Khonsu and Seti had encountered him by a tumble-down house in the northern quarter of the city when they returned from a fruitless search of the hills and valleys outside Akhet-Aten. He had smiled up at them and chatted pleasantly after flagging them down.

“Nothing much,” Khonsu replied. Seti was frowning. “I'm not sure where to start looking.”

“What are you looking for?” Mersu asked.

Seti lifted his eyebrows. When Khonsu hesitated, he said, “It's common enough knowledge. We're trying to find the tomb of Neb-Aten. He's the one Mayor Huni says is haunting the place, and we have found some evidence that the tomb was robbed. It might help us pinpoint who the “ghost' really is.'

“Hmm,” said Mersu. “Shouldn't you let the dead rest in peace?”

“That's what His Grace wanted to do,” Seti said.

“His Grace is a wise man,” said Mersu. “You could do worse than to listen to him. Well, come with me and I may be able to show you something interesting.”

“Is it treasure, Sculptor?” Seti asked. “No? Then I can't stay. Do you wish to remain here, Commander?”

“I think I do,” Khonsu said. “I'd enjoy a little diversion.”

“Step down, then,” Seti said. “I'll tell His Grace what we have found. Or, rather, what we haven't found.' When Khonsu had dismounted, he shook out his reins and headed toward the palace at a spanking trot.

“And what do you have to show me?” Khonsu asked when Seti was gone.

“Something interesting,” Mersu said again. “Come into this house.”

**   **   **

“This was the house of the Master Sculptor Djehutymose,” said Mersu some moments later. “I was apprenticed here for a time. He was a master among masters, gifted beyond anyone I have ever known. If only I had a quarter of his ability, of his talent...' He saw the words of denial forming on Khonsu's lips and said, “Oh, I'm a skilled copyist. I can revive what was great twenty generations ago, but to create something new? No, that isn't my gift.”

He lowered his voice and looked around. “Look, Commander,” he said. “You aren't a tale-bearer or a vandal like the rest. Let me show you something no one else but me knows of.”

He went to a portion of wall that lay beneath a shelf and went down on his hands and knees. “You can see it's been hollowed here,” he said, crawling into the opening. “If it's still here...' His voice grew muffled as he went farther inside the wall.

Khonsu looked around at the crumbling plaster with a disquieting sense of loss, of skill allowed to languish and die in the shadow of strife. Mersu's voice, raised in triumph, made him jump.

“Yes!” he exclaimed. “Bar the door and then come here!”

Khonsu shot the bronze-clad timber bolt through its hasp, tested it to make certain it was secure, and then went over to the wall.

Mersu was emerging back-first in a billow of dust with a heavy, cloth-wrapped object held in his arms. He sneezed and then climbed stiffly to his feet with a grunt and began to unwind the cloth.

“They called her beautiful,” he said, working at the dusty folds of what had once been a fine shawl. “And yet, seeing all the depictions-all that aren't wrecked, that is!-you wonder how anyone could admire such a snake-faced, bony creature. But look at this!”

The shawl fell away to reveal a proud head poised on a long, elegant neck. Long-lidded, dark eyes gazed serenely ahead, and the full, delicately tinted lips were gathered at the corners into the beginning of a smile.

Khonsu thought against all logic, in a moment of confusion, that the head and shoulders of a living woman were circled by the folds of dusty cloth. He had to blink his dazzled eyes twice before he could realize that he was gazing at a masterpiece of carved and painted stone.

He stared, tallying the classic, spare bones beneath the face, the column of throat, the flash and sparkle of inlaid eyes beneath a covering of clearest rock crystal.

Mersu was gazing with memory-misted eyes. “Ah, gods,” he sighed. “How fair she was! Fair and gracious and altogether lovely. Truly a queen! And she had borne five of her six babes when this was done.”

“A queen?” Khonsu repeated. “Then this was-'

“Nefertiti,” said Mersu. “'Behold! The Beautiful One has Come!' And the name was fitting.' He carefully brushed away dust and some specks of mud that soiled the necklace. “I watched her come into the audience hall on her husband's arm,” he said. “I was only a gangling, awkward stripling then. But she looked at me and smiled, and spoke. And when she came to inspect the way this was progressing, she remembered my name. A mother of five, and queen of the land, and she remembered my name!”

He set the bust aside and dove back into the hole. “Old Djehutymose the sculptor took masks of the great and mighty. I helped to take them-and you should have seen the great and mighty with their faces smeared with grease and covered with wax to make the molds! Here they are, where they were put for safekeeping when the city was abandoned. Look: Pharaoh Horemheb himself, when he was no more than a general, like our Seti.'

He produced a plaster mask bearing a grim-looking face. The heavy-lidded, circled eyes and drawn-in cheeks were a younger image of the man who now occupied the two thrones.