Lynda Robinson - Murder at the Feast of Rejoicing

"No more of this skulking and hiding, Meren. I want to know what's happening. What demon possesses you? How could you take a dagger to Ra?"

"Me! I'm not the one who-"

"Never mind," Idut said. She slapped the fan against her palm. "Not only have you accused your own brother of murder, but Kysen has accused my poor Wah. Wah, of all men, isn't a murderer. He's gentle and sweet, and, and…"

"And a sycophant and a place-seeker."

"He doesn't need to seek a place. He was steward to Queen Nefertiti. And how can you make Ra and Bentanta prisoners in their rooms? They've done nothing."

Meren looked at the pool, wishing he could dive into its black waters. "Idut, I'm trying to solve two murders, and I need to be alone."

"Nebetta blames you."

Turning to stare at his sister, Meren said, "Me? What have I done?"

"I don't know. She says you're responsible for both her sons' deaths. She says if Sennefer and Anhai hadn't come to the feast, both of them would be alive."

"She doesn't know that. If the same person killed both, then that person was determined to get rid of them and would have tried elsewhere. And I was nowhere near Djet when he killed himself."

"I tried to tell her that," Idut said, "but she wouldn't listen to me. No one listens to me. You have to find out who killed Anhai and Sennefer. The whole household is fearful. What if there's some evil demon loose among us? I think I should take the girls and go to Memphis. Wah says he'll take us on his yacht. You can stay here with the murderer."

"My charioteers are on guard now. There will be no more deaths, and I'm not sending Bener and Isis anywhere with that fool Wah."

"There you are!" Hepu strode toward them like a colossus with a sagging belly and jowls. "I hear you've confined Ra and Bentanta to their chambers. Did they kill Sennefer?"

"I don't know," Meren said.

"Why not? It's been hours since my poor boy died."

"Catching a murderer isn't a simple task, Uncle."

Hepu seethed with barely contained rage. "But that woman poisoned him!"

'That isn't certain," Meren said.

"Oh, Uncle," Idut said. "I can't imagine Bentanta killing anyone."

"Ah-ha!" Hepu pointed at Meren. "You're protecting her. I see it now. You're all in some evil plot together."

Meren walked over to Hepu. Even now the older man was taller, but Meren wasn't a child anymore. He studied Hepu's indignant face for a moment, then asked quietly, "Are you accusing me of murdering Sennefer?" Hepu's indignation turned to uneasiness as he watched Meren's expression. "I thought not, Uncle. It's your grief. It's taken hold of your heart and interfered with your reason."

"I'm going to see how Nebetta fares," Idut said. "The physician's potion was wearing off before the evening meal."

As Hepu turned to accompany Idut, Meren held up a hand. "A moment, Uncle." Idut left the garden.

"What do you want now?"

"Have you any idea who might want to kill your son or Anhai?".

"My son was beloved by all who knew him."

Hepu said.

"Perhaps by the women," Meren said, "but not necessarily by all the men."

"I don't understand you."

"Surely you knew about Sennefer's dealings with women, especially married ones." Hepu gave him an openmouthed stare. "You're mad."

"Are you saying he never talked to you about his adventures? He talked about them to everyone else."

"My son knew the advice of the great man who said beware of approaching women in a man's home. He was a man of honor and upright judgment."

"Hepu, Sennefer made a habit of seducing married women. It's a wonder some wronged husband hadn't already taken a knife to him."

"My son didn't do such things," Hepu said as he drew himself up to his full height so he could look down his nose at Meren. "It wasn't possible for him."

"Why not?"

Hepu went as still as a temple relief before answering. He looked away from Meren and said, "Because I taught Sennefer well. Unlike Djet, he learned virtue, respect, the conduct of a decent man. No doubt Bentanta killed him in a jealous rage because he refused her. Perhaps she killed Anhai so she could have my son."

Meren could find no reply to this fanciful reasoning. Anyone should know a woman like Bentanta wouldn't want Sennefer. Hepu's conception of his son had more to do with imagination than with Sennefer's true nature. "I must return to Nebetta. She isn't well at all." Left alone, Meren tried to regain his calm so that he could resume contemplating what little evidence he had for the two deaths. Eventually he gave up and went to bed. He fell asleep wondering if he could face arresting his own brother for murder.

Early the next morning a vessel arrived with priests of Anubis. Along with the grieving parents and the family, Meren witnessed the ceremonial removal of the two bodies to the ship that would take them to Abydos for embalming. Then he went to Green Palm.

Now he walked down the main path of the village. It was lined with the trees from which its name was derived, and between the palms squatted stalls covered with goods-vegetables, fruit, basketry, pottery, amulets, cloth. He and Reia stopped beside a rickety awning that sheltered a vendor of melons and surveyed the two-story structure. In the door's stone lintel was carved "The Green Palm," the name of the tavern and village alike.

"Reia, you're staying outside. I don't need a guard to visit a tavern."

"Lord," Reia said. "Captain Abu would flay the skin from my body if I allowed you to go in there without me."

"Abu answers to me-oh, very well. You'd think I was an untried youth. But I can't speak to these women if you hover over me, so you stay away. Watch from a distance and try not to look intimidating."

"But you're you, lord. It's not I who will frighten them."

"I haven't been to Green Palm since before my father died. No one knows me."

Reia gave him a skeptical look. "As you say, lord."

Meren went inside, leaving behind the white light of the new day for the darkness and dim yellow glow of pottery lamps. The main room of the tavern was long, with a central fireplace filled with dead embers. Reed mats lined three walls, and on these were thrown cushions and pallets. Several women reclined in a group on the cushions, while some distance away a man snored on one of the pallets.

Against the fourth wall sat a table on which rested jars of varying sizes and stacks of cups. A man came through a door at the back, his arms loaded with beer strainers, clay straws, and more cups. A girl followed him with two baskets, one filled with bread, another with melons.

The man piled his burdens on the table and began arranging the cups. Meren went over to him, but he didn't look up from his work. "I understand Lord Nakht was here on the night of the feast at Baht."

"I don't flap my tongue about my customers," the tavern keeper said.

"He recommended your tavern to me as a place of comfort and pleasure."

The tavern keeper looked at Meren for the first time. He took in the fine linen, the bronze pectoral necklace, the leather sandals.

"Ah, good master, I'm honored. Yes, yes. Lord Nakht was here and had a merry time drinking my fine beer. My family has brewed the best beer in the entire nome for generations. And I have the most beautiful of women."

"These women, my friend said he liked them well, and I'm interested in seeing them."

"Of course, good master."

The tavern keeper hurried around the table and ushered Meren over to the women. None of them got up. There were three, each wearing a beaded girdle around her hips and nothing else. Although they were more painted than the young female servants of Meren's household, he found none of them more remarkable. The tavern keeper pulled one of the women to her feet.

"This is Tabes, one of the women Lord Nakht favored. Greet the good master, woman."