Lynda Robinson: Murder at the Feast of Rejoicing

At the sight, Meren slowed to a trot and joined his son in kneeling over Paser. They turned him over. He was bleeding from a gash on his forehead. One of the charioteers pressed a wad of cloth to the wound.

"Knocked senseless," Meren said with a frustrated smile as they stood. "I wonder which god I've offended to be so cursed with ill luck." His smile faded. "This isn't good, Ky."

"Depend upon it, Father. Paser knows nothing. We discovered his man before he could tell what he knew."

"But he might have been spying at the temple before last night."

"Do you think even Paser would be foolish enough to remain if he'd discovered what was in the temple?"

"Perhaps not." Meren began to walk back across the deck. "I sent more men to the temple before dawn, but that meant there were but two to stand guard over the family. I had to use doorkeepers to watch Bentanta and Ra. Send for me when that fool wakes. I'm going back to the house."

By the time he reached Baht, the household was stirring. He could hear the bray of donkeys in the granary court and the steady grinding sound of the querns. Hurrying to his office, he dismissed Reia and sat down with a pile of reports from the interviews his men had conducted with the household. He tried to fix his attention on them, but visions of Djet and Bentanta kept distracting him.

Wincing at a particularly vivid scene his imagination had called up, he dropped the reports on the floor and brought out his juggling balls. Tossing one in the air, he threw another from one hand to the other and caught the falling sphere. The rhythm established, he began to walk around the office while he concentrated on the balls.

He was desperately worried. The family was furious with him for the way he'd treated Ra and Bentanta, Idut especially. Nebetta still wouldn't speak to him and continued to blame him for Sennefer's death. And he hadn't found Sennefer's murderer. That is, he didn't think he'd found him. Or did he simply not want to admit he'd found him? If he didn't solve this murder soon, he was going to send the women to Memphis. Bener wouldn't like it, but she would have to go. He couldn't take any more chances with the murderer, not when this new danger threatened.

He needed more time, and now that the secret at the haunted temple was threatened by that worm Paser, he wasn't going to get it. Paser was part of Prince Hunefer's faction. Could Hunefer have found out about the desecration of Akhenaten's tomb? Secrecy was vital if another atrocity was to be prevented. There were still many at court who would love to deprive the king's brother of eternal life by destroying his body. He must make Paser speak. And he would, of that he was certain. Paser wasn't just dull-witted, he was a coward. It wouldn't take long to break him, once he woke.

Until then, he would do what he shouldn't-try to think of anything that would cast suspicion of Sennefer's murder elsewhere than on Ra. His plan to prove his brother's innocence hadn't worked as he'd thought. True to his contrary nature, Ra had cast even more doubt upon his own innocence.

He returned to the casket that held his juggling balls. Catching the three he'd been using, he took out a fourth. He held two balls in each hand, then began to toss the two in his right hand. Then he started with his left. When he had the rhythm going, he tried the exchange and missed. He grabbed for balls in two directions. They all fell.

Sighing, he picked them up and set the fourth ball aside. Soon he was juggling three again. Trying to add a fourth made him feel as frustrated as he'd been at the feast of rejoicing. He recalled that burning irritation, that trapped feeling he'd suffered while surrounded by bickering relatives. His temper was already short, and now Paser had added a new dose of disaster to his already overflowing cup.

Meren's hand froze in mid-toss. Balls dropped to the floor and skittered across the room. Virulent suspicions returned. Paser's invasion might be related to Sennefer's death. No, Kysen was right. Too many years at court had driven him to suspect that every event had a hidden meaning, every person a secret design. Sennefer had never been important at court. No one at the feast had been influential.

It was true that Anhai had once served the Great Royal Wife Nefertiti, as had Bentanta, but neither was high in the favor of Tutankhamun's queen, Ankhesenamun. Wah had been Nefertiti's steward for a brief time before her death, but Wah had no place at court. He had no power, and Meren didn't think Wah even knew Paser.

But still, he didn't like it that Paser and his spies appeared at the same time he was hunting a murderer. And there was something bothering him, something about the night of the feast, about his relatives, all gathered around him talking, talking, talking. Ra talking to Anhai. Bentanta whispering with Sennefer. Wah whining at him. Hepu moralizing. Meren was certain he'd missed something, something important.

Bending over his ebony chair, Meren fished beneath it to grab a juggling ball. He was feeling sorry for himself when Sennefer was the one to be pitied. Sennefer had lived in fear of having his impotence exposed. At the feast, he must have been terrified when Anhai threatened him. No wonder he drank so much pomegranate wine, both before and after her death. And when he'd been poisoned, Meren had assumed he was only drunk or ill… only drunk or ill. Holding the one juggling ball, Meren suddenly sat down in the ebony chair.

"By all the gods of Egypt," he murmured. After a long silence, he began to toss the ball in one hand, slowly, as he cast his thoughts back to the feast of rejoicing one final time.

Kysen hurtled upstairs to his father's office and burst through the door. He started talking at the same time Meren thrust himself out of his chair and spoke.

"Paser's awake, and he says he'll only talk to you."

"Ky, I was wrong about the poison."

"What?" Kysen stared at Meren, breathless.

Meren hurled a juggling ball into its casket and brushed past Kysen. "There's no time. Curse of the gods, I hope I haven't endangered anyone else."

Kysen ran down the stairs after Meren. "Wrong about the poison! How wrong? Father, wait."

Meren vanished around a turn in the stairs, and Kysen didn't catch up with him until they ran down the hall to stop before Ra's chamber door. At the threshold squatted a doorkeeper who cradled his head in his hands.

"Where is my brother?" Meren snapped.

The man groaned. Suddenly cries issued from the central hall. This time Kysen was right behind his father as they ran into the chamber. The family was supposed to be partaking of a morning meal. Now they and several servants had gathered in a huddle around Aunt Cherit's carrying chair like geese around bread crumbs. At the rear door of the long chamber an ovoid wine jar had been tipped from its stand. Its shards littered the floor, and wine stained the mats.

"What's happened?" Meren asked as they reached the group. "Ra is missing."

Cherit was patting Nebetta's hand as she wept. "He came charging through here like a netherworld fiend, and he would have escaped except that your men blocked his way when he tried to go through to the front."

"He went out the back?" Kysen asked.

Cherit nodded. "Simut and the other guard ran after him."

Kysen moved toward the rear entrance, but Meren put a hand on his arm. He glanced around the group. Cherit was muttering imprecations against foolish young men who ruined good wine. Isis was calmly munching on a slice of melon while Nebetta snuffled.

"Where are the rest?" Meren said.

"Why aren't you chasing that murderous brother of yours?" sobbed Nebetta.

Kysen grew alarmed at the killing look Meren gave her.

"Isis, where are the others?" Meren asked.