Lynda Robinson - Murder at the Feast of Rejoicing

"And so far the only wine that's been tainted is this we have here," Meren said.

"Iry has examined all the other jars," Kysen said. "When she arrived, Bentanta had twelve jars delivered to the kitchen storage. Most of it was consumed at the feast with no ill effects. There were three jars left in storage, and they have been found untainted. It seems the only poison is in this one open jar."

Meren rose and bent over the vessel to study the bits of clay clinging to the twine fastened to its neck. "It could have been poisoned before it was sealed, I suppose."

"Or someone could have tainted it after Sennefer opened it," Kysen said. "If he opened it after the feast, in his chamber, someone still easily could have stolen into his room after he was asleep and put the poison in the jar. Anyone in the guest house, that is."

Meren went back to his chair. "True. You've been invaluable, Nebamun. Please go back to my aunt and attend to her."

"She is making herself ill with grief, lord. Shall I give her a draught to calm her?"

"Yes, if she'll take it."

When Nebamun was gone, Kysen lowered himself to the floor of the dais and shook his head. "I don't suppose you've thought of a way to blame a servant or a slave."

"Ky, all of them have been with the family for generations, and most were too busy at the feast to be involved with Anhai's death. Kasa has worked with my men to account for their whereabouts that night. As for Sennefer, only those who handled the wine or had the opportunity to taint it concern us."

"Who brought the wine to Sennefer's room?"

"Kasa," Meren said. "And I don't think Kasa had a reason to harm Sennefer or Anhai. He barely knew them and had no dealings with either."

Kysen turned around and clasped his arms around his knees. "But Bentanta had a reason to harm Anhai, and if Anhai shared her secret with Sennefer, she had a reason to harm him too. What was this great secret?"

"She won't tell me, and the search of her chamber and possessions has yielded nothing, especially not torn papyrus."

"Then you haven't seriously tried to make her tell you."

"Don't worry. I'm through being the gentle courtier and hesitant childhood friend. I'm going to her chamber now." Meren rose and smoothed the pleats in his over-robe. "However, I almost feel like changing into armor."

"Fear not," Kysen said with a wry smile. "Reia will be there to protect you."

"You think yourself fortunate, but you, my dear son, are going to question my dear sister's proposed husband."

"Not Wah!"

"I can't talk to everyone, Ky, and he's the only stranger who was here for both deaths. Perhaps the gods will bless us, and you'll find out he's the murderer of both. Unfortunately…"

"Ra?"

"Yes," Meren said. "Ra was at Green Palm, and he could have stolen back to kill Anhai and poisoned Sennefer's wine too."

"An evil prospect, but how likely?"

"I'm not sure," Meren said. "Once I would have said Ra doesn't care deeply enough about anyone or anything to be provoked into action. But if Anhai used him, and Sennefer laughed at him for it-" Meren threw up his hands. "I don't know anymore. At times he's rabid with anger. He thinks he's been persecuted his entire life, mostly by Father and by me, but he's fed this grudge for so long that he's made a habit of seeing injustice toward himself from countless sources."

"And he drinks."

"Wine has ruined many a man's judgment," Meren said.

Kysen rubbed his chin and stared at the flagon and wine cup. "The doorkeepers for both houses were back at their posts after the feast. Anyone outside would have had to avoid them, and none of them saw anyone sneaking around the grounds. I suppose it's possible that someone from outside could have used a rope to climb the outer wall and steal up the back stairs to the roof to enter." He rose and stood beside Meren.

"You're going to question Aunt Idut?"

"Yes, and Great-Aunt Cherit," Meren said. "I wish you could do it, but they wouldn't listen to you. And I'll have to talk to Hepu, and perhaps Nebetta. Gods, this day seems endless."

"I'll visit the temple tonight. You get some rest."

"After this day, I don't think I'm going to be able to sleep. I'm not going to rest until I find out who's killing people in my house. And gods, what a choice of culprits!"

"You've thought of the possibility that Sennefer could have killed Anhai, and someone else killed him in revenge?"

"Which leads to Ra again," Meren said.

"I'll find Iry and see if his searches have revealed anything else."

"Ky," Meren said as his son walked away, "while you're doing that, assign Reia's brother Simut to guard Bener and Isis. I don't think they're in danger, but I'll rest easier knowing someone is watching them."

"I should have thought of it earlier."

When he was alone, Meren summoned a servant and had him take the wine jar, flagon, and wine cup to his office. They would be safe there with a sentry posted outside the door. He could think of nothing else to do that would delay his visit to Bentanta.

The women's quarters lay on the opposite side of the house. As he directed his steps in that direction, he realized that he'd been hampered from the beginning of this inquiry. It was almost impossible to intimidate people who remembered him as a muddy, sticky-faced boy. He dreaded demonstrating his power and authority, but his family-and Bentanta-were fast forcing him into a position in which he'd have no choice.

Reia was outside Bentanta's room with another charioteer. He almost went inside alone but instead gave an order to Reia. Reia left, and Meren paced outside the door while he waited briefly for him to return.

Leaving the second man outside as guard, Meren stepped back from the door to allow Reia to knock and throw open the portal. Bentanta was stalking around the chamber and paused in midstride when they appeared. Her brows drew together as her gaze fell on the charioteer. Reia had a scimitar stuck in his belt and was holding a scribe's palette and papyrus.

"I've told you I didn't poison Sennefer or kill Anhai, Your trained colts have searched every possession I brought with me. My patience is wearing, Meren."

Meren didn't answer. Reia walked past Bentanta, picked up a chair, and brought it to him. Meren sat down, gathering the complicated folds of his robe around his legs. Reia drew his weapon, sat on the floor, and placed it beside him. Then he took a rush pen from his palette and mixed some ink with water. Placing the papyrus on the length of his kilt that stretched between his crossed legs, he dipped the pen in the palette inkwell. All the while, Meren remained silent.

"What are you doing?" Bentanta demanded.

Meren studied her as he would any person whom he had cause to suspect of a great evil, assessing, probing, looking for any sign of guilt. Sometimes this treatment worked, but often, with the quick-witted or those with experience at the imperial court, he was met with a facade of impenetrable innocence. Unfortunately, Bentanta stared right back at him without guilt, but with a bargeload of anger. Ah well, he hadn't expected her to succumb to simple tactics.

"Lady Bentanta, I'll send for another witness to this examination if you wish it."

"Examination?" Bentanta walked over to face him and put her hands on her hips. "You're going to examine me like a common thief who steals honey from your beekeepers?"

"Then you don't require another witness," Meren said. "Very well. We'll begin, Reia." He leaned over the side of his chair and glanced down at the charioteer. "Count Meren, son of Amosis, the Eyes and Ears of Pharaoh, Nebkheprure Tutankhamun-may he have life, health, and prosperity-year five, season of Drought. He speaks as follows: the examination of the Lady Bentanta, widow of Lord Hekareshu the justified, in the matter of the deaths of Lord Sennefer and Lady Anhai."