Lauren Haney: Flesh of the God

“She’s free, all right, but she’s not for the likes of you and me.” Nebwa wrapped a proprietary arm around the girl’s waist and pulled her close. “She’s a lady, unlike this one, who would lie with a monkey if it fed her.”

Cupping a shapely breast in his hand, he bent to take it in his mouth. She glanced at Bak and looked away quickly as if embarrassed to be used in such a way. The boy stared at the bubbling food, his nostrils flaring, his mouth tight. Bak thanked the gods Nakht had seen fit to give him separate quarters. With only Hori sharing his house, he did not have to worry about other men’s habits or tempers.

“Must you always behave like a heated ram?” Paser snarled.

Nebwa raised his head, laughed. “Isn’t that why I keep her?” With another quick command and a slap on the buttocks, he sent her toward the hearth.

Scowling, Paser broke open his cooling fish, tore a piece of flesh from the bones, and ate it. “If I were you, Bak, I’d keep a close eye on Azzia.”

“Why?” Nebwa sneered. “She didn’t slay him. Even if she did, what do you expect her to do? Run off into the desert? Or sneak onto the first merchant ship leaving Buhen?” He flopped down on the dusty hard-packed earth. “That’d be smart, wouldn’t it? It’d be an admission of guilt. All Bak would have to do is send out a courier and she’d be picked off the ship at the next port.”

“For a price, half the captains on the river would hide anything or anyone among their cargo.”

“Bah! A couple of soldiers can go through a ship from prow to stern in less time than it’ll take you to eat that fish.”

Bak would have let them squabble if he felt he was learning anything new, but he was not. “I’ve been told you both were on the wall last night, and I wondered if you saw…”

“Officer Bak!” Mery’s voice, urgent, angry, interrupted, followed by the quick patter of his sandaled feet approaching along the lane.

Bak swiveled around.

Mery drew up before him, cheeks flushed, eyes blazing. “You left a Medjay in mistress Azzia’s home, watching her like a common criminal. How could you do such a despicable thing?”

Bak was too tired to appease him. “What would you have me do? Call her innocent when I’m not sure she is?”

“Better that than to call her guilty when you have no proof.”

“Proof!” Paser jeered. “What better proof than the blood on her hands?”

Mery swung on him, ready to strike, but a quick, hard command from Nebwa, his senior officer, broke his will to act. He slumped on the ground beside the tamarisks.

Bak’s eyes narrowed on Paser. He did not remember seeing the caravan officer’s name on the list of men who had swarmed upstairs from the audience hall. “You were there? In the commandant’s residence?”

Paser gave him a cool look. “I wasn’t, as you surely know. But I’ve been told how she looked. Everyone in Buhen has heard.”

The woman knelt beside Nebwa with several fish. He grabbed one by the tail and tore it apart. With his mouth full, he said, “I was there. I saw the blood, and I also saw her face. I’d swear before the lord Amon himself that she didn’t slay him.”

Bak asked the question that had puzzled him ever since he had seen Nebwa’s name on the list. “Why didn’t you take charge after Nakht was slain? You’re senior in rank to Mery.”

Nebwa glanced at the watch officer, shrugged. “He had the situation well in hand when I got there. I saw no reason to interfere.”

“You weren’t in the residence when mistress Azzia screamed?”

“I was on my way. Like everybody else, I wanted to see your Medjays bring in their prisoners. I thought they’d bring Nofery in, too, and she…” Nebwa looked up from the fish, grinned. “She can cause quite a stir when she wants to.”

“Sorry we disappointed you,” Bak said in a tone as dry as the desert sands.

“I’d have missed it anyway.” Nebwa scowled at the lost opportunity. “Before I got there, I thought I heard somebody running across the roof of the scribal office building. I went up to take a look.”

Bak’s interest quickened. “Did you see anyone?”

“I knew it!” Mery flung a triumphant smile at Bak. “Mistress Azzia didn’t slay Nakht! Someone else did. Someone who entered from the roof.”

Nebwa spread his hands wide. “I saw nothing but shadows.”

“How thoroughly did you search the area?” Bak asked, smothering his disappointment.

“I was a pace or two from the top of the stairs when Azzia screamed. I was pretty sure nobody was up there, but just in case, I found the guard-he was in one of the storage magazines-and sent him up to take another look. He told me later he walked the roofs from one end of the block to the other and saw nothing.”

Bak muttered a frustrated curse. If anyone had been on the roof, he’d have had plenty of time to run down the stairs and out to the street while Nebwa sought out the guard. On the other hand, it would have been an easy matter for Nebwa himself to cross from one roof to another and slip down the stairs to Nakht’s reception room.

“By the time I finally got to the residence, Nakht had breathed his last.” Nebwa thought a moment then, added grimly, “If I’d found anybody on that roof, he’d be a dead man, that I can tell you for a fact.”

Paser helped himself to another fish and carried it to the bench, where he sat down. “From what I hear, Mery refused to let anyone near the commandant’s body.” He glanced at the slim young man and smirked. “For Azzia’s sake, I assume.”

Mery’s face reddened-but whether from anger or embarrassment, Bak could not tell. “I thought Bak should see the room as I found it, not disturbed by a dozen pairs of feet and hands.”

“Did he?”

“I didn’t alter the scene to make mistress Azzia look innocent, if that’s what you’re implying,” Mery snapped.

“Not at all,” Paser said so smoothly it was obvious that was exactly what he meant.

Mery glared at his accuser, lips so tight the scar at the corner vanished from sight. Paser raised an eyebrow as if surprised at the younger officer’s anger. Mery shot to his feet.

“Easy!” Nebwa boomed.

Mery pivoted and walked to the hearth. Bak eyed his back, wondering if his retreat was an admission of guilt. With the door closed to the men outside, he could have moved the furniture or smeared the blood or removed some object that would point to Azzia. Or he could have ended Nakht’s life himself. His admiration for the woman appeared to have no bounds.

As for Paser, it seemed unwise to bait a fellow officer in a frontier garrison like Buhen, especially since they shared the same quarters. Did he know for a fact that Mery and Azzia were lovers? Or had he meant to draw Bak’s attention away from his own activities?

He asked, “Where were you, Paser, when Nakht lost his life?”

Paser eyed Bak with a hint of amusement. “I believe you’re actually taking this new task of yours to heart.”

Bak smarted at the sarcasm, but gave no sign. “I know you were on the battlements for a time. Where did you go from there, and what did you see?”

Paser leaned back and stretched out his legs. “Are you aware that I have the ear of the chief steward Senenmut, our sovereign’s right hand?”

Bak smiled. Compared to what could happen if anyone discovered he had kept the gold, the implied threat seemed insignificant. “I have the ear of the commander-in-chief of our army, Menkheperre Thutmose.” It was not the truth, but Paser had no way of knowing that.

The caravan officer stared, the glint fading from his eyes. He had to know, as well if not better than most, that if Maatkare Hatshepsut lost the throne to her nephew, Senenmut would be the first among her allies to fall from power.