The City of Refuge: Book 1 of The Memphis Cycle (24 page)

Seti shook his head. “This entire situation is beyond me. I wonder what my father would say…”

“It's ridiculous!” Sennefer snorted. “And there's something strange behind it! His Grace never raised a finger in wrath without it being completely justified! I don't know if he's sick or foolish, but he has committed no crime!”

“He certainly never used the word 'murder' in this entire exchange,” Khonsu said thoughtfully.

“That's because there wasn't a murder!” Sennefer insisted. “I know the man! If he killed Paser, he had an excellent reason for it! And he's just foolish enough to be ready to go to his death without saying a word in his own defense if he thinks it's necessary. I'm amazed that I haven't throttled him years ago!”

“That's all well and good,” said Khonsu, “But there he sits, a confessed killer, waiting to be imprisoned. As the officer charged with keeping the peace here, I can't allow him to walk away! And His Grace wouldn't let me do it, either! He was right: I do know him better than that! What are we to do with him?”

Sennefer lowered his voice. “I have an idea. The house of Prince Nakht, the Heretic's vizier, is to the south, well away from the rest of the town. It is in good repair. Send His Grace there on his word of honor. He would never break that. I'll spread the word that he was taken ill. It'll give us time. You two can get to the bottom of this, or I can talk some sense into him, and no one will be the wiser.”

XXXVIII

“You're letting me go?” Ptahemhat repeated as he climbed to his feet. “I won't be tried?” The young man had been sitting cross-legged in the corner of his cell and gazing moodily before him while fingering the Knot of Isis he wore at his wrist. He had looked up as Khonsu entered the room but had not risen to his feet.

Khonsu, seeing his defiance, had permitted himself an inward smile as he quietly told Ptahemhat that he was free. Now his voice was dry as he replied, “We are dropping all charges.”

“I told you I didn't do it!”

“Yes,” Khonsu agreed. “You did.”

When Khonsu added nothing further, Ptahemhat frowned and said, “You owe me an apology at least!”

Khonsu folded his arms and propped one shoulder against the well. “An apology?” he repeated. “I don't think so. You played the fool throughout this entire business, starting with openly rejoicing at Paser's death.. You compounded your folly by ramming about this city telling everyone you wished you had killed Paser, and outlining the ways you'd have done it if you'd had the chance.”

Ptahemhat's mouth dropped open.

Khonsu flicked him a scornful glance and continued, “Three days in prison is a light penalty for that kind of stupidity, and if I hadn't promised Lord Nebamun to set you free at once, I'd keep you here another week to make certain the lesson sinks in! But I respect His Grace too much to break my word. You may gather your belongings now and return to your quarters. Rai will bring you up to date on what's been happening since your arrest.”

“No! I want to speak with His Grace first! He promised I would be freed within the week and he was right! I know this was his doing!”

“Oh it was his doing, all right,” Khonsu said drily. “But you won't be able to speak with him just now.”

“What?”

“He has taken ill and is in seclusion. Master Sennefer has ordered that he not be disturbed until he's recovered.”

“But he stood as my guardian when my father died!”

“You're the reason he's ill at the moment.”

“His Grace? I don't believe it! He's never been one to fret himself into illness! If I were only half so cool-headed!”

“Nevertheless, he's ill and Sennefer has judged it best that he not be disturbed.”

Ptahemhat digested this in silence. “He's been a father to me! I must see him!”

“I don't see the necessity. A visit from an idiot like you would only serve to agitate him. You can wait until Sennefer gives you permission.”

Ptahemhat leveled a frowning stare at him. “I see,” he said. “And who's in charge of this expedition while Lord Nebamun is sick?”

“The leader of the people from Memphis is Father Perineb,” Khonsu said. “I think you know that. General Seti has his group, and I—” he said it with smiling emphasis, “—am in overall command here. You'd better keep that in mind.” His smile widened and he said more kindly. “I know you're worried about His Grace. Everything will be fine, but he needs to rest.”

**   **   **

Perineb looked up from the papyrus scroll that he was scanning. “If Master Sennefer thinks His Grace should be in seclusion, then so be it. But if there should be any questions that I feel I can't handle alone...” The sentence trailed off, not quite a question.

“His Grace has complete confidence in Your Reverence,” Khonsu said.

Perineb smiled and nodded, but he looked thoughtful as he set aside the light plank that he had been using as a sort of desk. “He is never ill,” he said, unknowingly echoing Ptahemhat. “He is, in fact, the healthiest man I have ever met! For him to be stricken again is a bad sign. Does Master Sennefer have any idea of the nature of his illness?”

“Overwork coupled with a slight fever. His Grace hasn't completely recovered from his most recent illness. Sennefer thinks rest will take care of things.”

Perineb nodded. “Lord Nebamun is untiring.” His smile became mischievous. “In fact, the High Priest and Her Ladyship both feel that His Grace is that way to the point of being exhausting. I'm inclined to agree. While he rests, so can we.”

Khonsu smiled and sketched a salute, then looked over the ranks of aged papyrus rolls and the piles of writing materials. Perineb and his priests had set up a sort of library in one of the large storehouses that lay between the king's private house and the huge temple of the Aten. The archive chamber opened to a colonnaded porch opening to the northeast. The walls channeled the prevailing northern breeze into the area.

The room seemed to rustle, a soothing sound of brushes moving across papyrus, the sigh of documents being turned. As Khonsu gazed around, one of the priests looked up and smiled at him.

“Is work going well, Your Reverence?”

“It's going well, Commander,” Perineb replied with a smile. “We found a great deal to review, and we have been thorough. By the end of another several days it should be complete.”

“And then?”

“And then I'll go into the temples and see what is to be seen,” Perineb replied. “And, to save you the question, Commander, once that's finished, and I have had an opportunity to consider, and to pray for guidance, I'll make my recommendation.”

“I see.” Khonsu drew a breath and squared his shoulders. “Well. Your Reverence should be warned that Ptahemhat may apply to you for permission to speak with His Grace.”

“That isn't surprising,” Perineb said. “His Grace has been a father to Ptahu. I'll make certain that Sennefer's orders are obeyed.”

“I thank Your Reverence,” Khonsu turned to leave and then paused to look back at Perineb. “Your Reverence?”

Perineb had taken up his brush again. He looked up and smiled. “Yes, Commander?”

“This city.
Is
it evil?”

Perineb's smile warmed. “Evil, Commander?” he repeated. “Certainly not. There's nothing evil here at Akhet-Aten. I don't believe there ever was.”

**   **   **

Lord Nebamun looked up as Khonsu and Seti approached, and then rose to his feet. “You're welcome here, gentlemen. Have you come to question me further?”

Khonsu looked down the long portico of the house's upper story, and then frowned northeast toward the Northern Sentinels, standing in stark outline against a darkening sky. “Is Your Grace comfortable?”

“Quite comfortable,” Nebamun said. The dryness of his voice matched that of Khonsu's not long before. “This is a beautiful place. I feel almost as though I were in my own home.”

Khonsu reflected that he certainly looked that way. He was barefoot with windblown hair. His tunic, of heavy, plain linen, yellowed with age and much-mended, was obviously an old favorite, probably worn over his wife's exasperated protests. A coarse pottery cup sat at his elbow and a flask was on the floor beside it.

Seti stepped forward and bowed as Khonsu looked around. “That's good to hear,” he said. “We were concerned.”

Nebamun eyed Seti over the rim of the cup as he sipped, then set it down. “I see,” he said. “And what do you need from me?”

Though Nebamun's expression did not waver from its gravity, Khonsu had the impression of amusement firmly held in check. He drew a deep breath and said with an attempt at Nebamun's calm, “Your Grace must be aware that we still need answers.”

“I have told you all I am permitted to tell you.”

“You know it isn't enough, Your Grace,” Khonsu said. “We want to help you.!”

“I don't need your help, Commander.”

Seti stepped forward. “No? Look at yourself: I think it's obvious that you do!”

Nebamun looked down at himself with raised eyebrows, then lifted his head again. “Dishevelment is not the same as distress, General.”

“I'm not speaking of Your Grace's appearance!”

“You puzzle me, General,” Nebamun said, the hint of the carefully restrained smile growing stronger. “What else is there of me that's visible other than my appearance?”

“I'm speaking of Your Grace's situation!”

Nebamun folded his arms and sat back. “I'm sorry to have upset you, General, but you can console yourself with the reflection that my situation doesn't appear as desperate to me as it does to you.”

Seti's frown increased. “How can Your Grace expect us to help you if you don't cooperate with us?”

“I told you I need no help,” Nebamun pointed out. “Didn't you hear me?”

“Your Grace is leaving me no choice but to press on with the charges!”

“Things appear to have changed since I surrendered, General,” Nebamun said mildly. “I thought it was for Commander Khonsu, as head of the forces here, to decide whether to prosecute me. If this is still the case,” his gaze grew direct, “I'm sure the Commander objects to having his authority usurped in this fashion.”

The full, frontal attack took Seti by surprise. “I beg your pardon, Commander,” he said, turning to Khonsu. “That wasn't my intent. I'm only interested in clearing His Grace's name.”

Nebamun nodded at this retreat in good order. “It can't be done,” he reminded them. “I have confessed to killing Paser. Were you planning to beat me into signing a document saying that my confession was a joke?”

“Your Grace knows better!” Khonsu said. He added, “And Your Grace knows this is a serious matter!”

“Is it?. I have heard everyone say over and over how Paser's killer should be rewarded. For that matter, General Seti said as much only two days ago. A necklace of honor, no less. I have admitted to the killing. And am I given that necklace? No! I am flung into prison, badgered and browbeaten!”

“Your Grace!” Khonsu exclaimed. “We never—”

Seti folded his arms with a frown. “This is no time for joking,” he said. “We need answers.”

The sense of Nebamun's amusement had completely vanished. “You aren't going to get them, General. I have said all that I am permitted to say.”

Seti traded stares with Nebamun. He finally turned away with an exclamation of annoyance. “Your Grace has no notion of how we're trying to help you!”.

“And I keep telling you, as clearly as I am able, that I don't need your help.”

Seti's exasperation was growing. “You're going to fly away from this self-chosen prison, then?”

“That's quite possible,” Nebamun said calmly. “You may be surprised. But in the mean time I must insist that you stop wearying me with your impertinent speculations and suggestions!”

The snub made Seti blink and then flush with anger. “I'll do that! Do I have Your Grace's leave to depart?”

“It isn't for the prisoner to dismiss his jailers,” Nebamun replied with relentless sweetness.

Seti bowed low, turned and strode briskly to the steps. A moment later they heard his footsteps on the walkway outside.

Nebamun watched him go, his mouth tipped oddly, before looking over at Khonsu. “How interesting to see him lose his temper,” he mused. “I'd wondered if it was as hot as his father's, and I see I am right. The touch of Hyksos blood in them, maybe?” He dropped the line of thought without waiting for a response from Khonsu. “But aren't you going to follow him out, Commander? The part of my comments addressed to you was pointed, as well.”

“No, Your Grace,” Khonsu replied. “We have some things to discuss, and I'm not so easy to divert.”

Lord Nebamun sat back with a sigh. “Am I to be subjected to another spell of argument, then?”

“No, Your Grace,” Khonsu said. “You're going to listen to a plea. This is all so unnecessary! I know Your Grace is a man of honor. No one who has ever dealt with you would ever believe that you could be a murderer.”

“I denied the charge, if you remember,” Nebamun countered.

“But that is how you'll be judged if you don't defend yourself!”

“I may not be. Wait and see.”

“I don't have the luxury of time!”

Nebamun shook his head. “Wait and see,” he repeated.

“There's this to consider, as well, if your own plight won't move you. You have put me in a terrible position. I will be the one who must prefer charges, since I' conducted the investigation into Paser's death and it was to me that Your Grace surrendered.”

“No one would ever fault you for doing your duty. Least of all me. Surely you know this.”

Khonsu turned away from him and walked to the end of the portico. He was silent for a long time before he turned and back. “Why must you take this line, Your Grace? If only you could...”

Nebamun interrupted him without ceremony. “Show some sense, Commander. This can only lead to your advancement. You will be under His Majesty's eye, and he admires courage and resourcefulness. I have mentioned you in many of my reports already.”

“I don't want wealth, power or His Majesty's approval if I have to hurt Your Grace to get them!” Khonsu said. “How can you think that it would be anything other than a personal disaster for me to see you brought low through my actions? I know you are no murderer! But don't you see that that is how you will be judged if you keep your silence? And I am powerless to help you!”

The amusement faded from Nebamun's expression. He shook his head at Khonsu with an affectionate smile. “You're fretting to no purpose, Commander,” he said. “There are so many more sensible things to worry about. This will resolve itself shortly, I swear it to you upon my honor. Just have faith and patience. Do you think I am eager to embrace my own ruin? No, all will be most well. I promise it.”