Lynda Robinson - Murder at the Feast of Rejoicing

Kysen wasn't surprised when Meren simply straightened and waited for his brother to recover. From the beginning Meren's stance and lack of offensive movements had told Kysen he didn't intend to fight Ra as he would an enemy. Ra seemed to realize this too, for he jumped up and turned on Meren, his sweating face red, teeth bared.

"Fight me, you cursed son of the Devourer." Ra walked quickly toward Meren. "I'll not let you take this from me as you have everything else."

Before he finished speaking, Ra launched himself at Meren. He crashed into his brother, who fell backward as he grabbed Ra's dagger arm with his free hand. They landed with Ra on top. Meren pulled Ra's arm while shoving with his body. Ra toppled to the side, ending up on his face, spitting dirt.

Meren jumped to his feet, turned, and stood over his brother, his chest heaving. "You've drawn my blood, Ra. Surely you're recompensed for any insult." He lowered his dagger and turned away.

Ra rolled over, wiped dirt from his eyes, and saw his brother walking toward the front gate. Springing to his feet, he sailed at Meren, dagger held high and pointed at his brother's back. Kysen put his fingers in his mouth and let out a piercing whistle that was accompanied by those of the charioteers.

At the sound, Meren whirled around and brought his dagger up just as Ra's blade descended. Metal slid against metal until the weapons locked hilts. Meren fell beneath the impetus of Ra's charge, planted his feet on his brother's stomach, and threw him over his head. Ra hurtled through the air. His head cracked against hard earth as he slammed into the ground on his back, stunned. His dagger flew from his hand.

There was a sudden quiet as Meren got quickly to his feet and went to his brother. Flailing with arms and legs, gasping for air, Ra tried to rise, but ended up looking like a writhing fish tossed on the riverbank. Kysen picked up Ra's dagger and joined Meren to kneel beside the fallen man.

Meren grabbed a fistful of Ra's hair and pulled the dazed man upright. "Remember. I wasn't the one who wanted to fight, Ra. And remember this too. If you ever touch Ky again, I'll fight you as I would an enemy instead of a spoiled little brother." Ra slapped Meren's hand from his head and cursed. "You're staying here."

Meren said. "You can remain as a guest or as a prisoner. I care not which. Come, Ky. We've work to do."

Kysen had listened to his father's last words with growing surprise that kept him silent while Meren ordered his men to remove Ra to the house. Always, deep within his ka, there had remained a nagging feeling of disbelief that Meren could hold for him the affection a father held for a son of his blood. To be presented with such overwhelming proof of Meren's love was like being gifted with perfection by the gods. He didn't know how to feel or how to respond. Luckily, Meren seemed unaware of the magnitude of his actions. He handed his dagger to Reia, waved a hand to banish the crowd of onlookers, and then glanced at Kysen.

"We can only pray to Amun that my fool of a brother will think before acting in the future. Damnation. Here comes Idut. Delay her, Ky. I'm going to wash. Meet me in the granary. I want to look at it again before all the light vanishes."

"Aunt," Kysen said as he stepped in her path. "You don't look well. Didn't you enjoy Father's little game with Ra?"

"Game? That was no game. Meren! You come back here, Meren."

Kysen danced in front of his aunt as she tried to go around him and thought of a half-lie. "A royal messenger has just arrived. Father must attend to it at once. May I send for beer? You seem overheated, Aunt."

A messenger had come from the king, but he'd arrived long ago and was filling his belly in the kitchen while he awaited Meren's letters of reply. Kysen managed to divert Idut long enough for Meren to disappear into the security of his apartments.

Not long afterward Kysen entered the granary court to find Hray in the process of issuing ration payments to the workers. While waiting for his father, he questioned

Hray again. No, the overseer had seen nothing out of the ordinary, touched nothing when he found Anhai.

Meren joined them. "But there was one thing out of the ordinary, Hray."

"There was, lord?"

"Your grinders fought over their querns and grindstones."

"Aye, lord. They're a quarrelsome lot sometimes."

Kysen glanced at the bowed querns and the oblong grindstones. "It appears that several of the laborers have favorite implements. Two of them prefer the same ones."

"Yes, lord."

"Indeed," Meren said. "And when you found Anhai's body, two of the grindstones had been switched, precipitating an argument. What I want to know is whether the querns and grindstones were left in their proper order after the day's work."

"Oh yes, lord," Hray said, jerking his head up and down. "I make them keep the querns and grindstones matched, and I make the two laborers take turns with the set they both prefer. I don't tolerate fighting over the tools. Wastes time."

"And yet the stones were mismatched," Kysen said. While Meren dismissed Hray, he went over to the awning and picked up a black grindstone, hefting it in his hand. Returning to Meren, he pointed the stone at him. "It's heavy. Wouldn't it have made a mark if someone hit Anhai with it?"

Meren took the stone, grabbing it by the end. Something in that gesture bothered Kysen, but he couldn't decide how. They stared at the black stone together. The surface was smooth from constant grinding and had a dull sheen. Kysen rubbed it with his fingers, but they came away clean. No trace of any substance at all. He returned the stone to its quern.

As he did so, he passed a water jar hanging suspended in a net. The vessel was made of clay, allowing some of the water to seep and keep the rest cool. He picked up a pottery cup and poured water into it. He drank all the water before he rejoined Meren, who was standing at the base of the granary in which Anhai had been found.

While the laborers and Hray filed out of the granary court, they stood contemplating the tall structure.

"Reia and the others have collected reports on all the servants and guests," Meren said. "We have yet to question Wah, Idut, Sennefer's parents, and Aunt Cherit."

"You don't think Aunt Idut or dear old Cherit-"

"Of course not, but they may have seen something."

"You spoke to the Lady Bentanta?"

Meren kicked at the door in the base of the granary. "That woman has more boldness and insolence than a she-falcon. I swear when she looks at me she sees a boy with a sidelock."

Kysen's glance took in Meren's greater height and charioteer's build. "I don't think so."

"She must, or she wouldn't have refused to answer my questions. I subjected her to a formal inquiry, and she threw it back in my face. She's hiding something, Ky, and I'm going to find out what it is. If she doesn't give in tomorrow morning, I'll-curse it-I don't want to do what I'm going to have to do."

"Don't worry. If you tried to frighten her, you succeeded. You're good at it." Kysen glanced around the courtyard. "It's growing dark. Time to eat. And I'm going to get some sleep before I have to go to the haunted temple."

"At least we've been successful there," Meren said.

"And what of Ra?"

"I'm going to Green Palm tomorrow morning and talk to those tavern women myself. Then I'll confront Bentanta."

"Which of them do you think did it?" Kysen asked.

"I don't know."

"Would you rather find Bentanta guilty?"

Meren's head jerked in his direction. His eyes widened, and Kysen heard a sharp intake of breath.

"Of course," Meren said. "Of course, I'd rather it was her than my brother, no matter how irritating he is."

"It's just that you seem uncertain."

Meren fixed him with a forbidding stare. "I'm uncertain about who has committed this evil, and I'm worried about the danger to the rest of us."