Lynda Robinson: Murder at the Feast of Rejoicing

"Uncle Hepu is working on a tribute to Sennefer in his chamber. Aunt Idut and Wah left before Uncle Ra came, and Bener followed them." She finished the last bite of her melon and continued. "She was going to spy on them. I told her not to, but she never listens to me."

"The guards let them go?" Kysen asked.

"They were only going to the garden for a moment, and they promised to come back quickly," Isis said. "You know how Aunt can be. She wouldn't leave poor Simut alone until he consented. Then, when Simut and the other guard chased Uncle Ra, Bener stole away."

Kysen heard a lurid curse from Meren, who was already through the door. Kysen ran after him, calling over his shoulder, "All of you, stay here."

Racing out of the house, he caught up with Meren as he shoved open the garden gate. They charged inside only to come up short at the sight of Idut screaming at an acacia tree that grew next to the side wall.

"Bener, you contentious, wretched girl, come back here at once!"

They sprinted over to Idut.

"Where are they?" Meren asked.

Idut threw up her hands. "This is what comes of your soft discipline, Meren. That girl has been sneaking around the house for days, spying on everyone, asking impertinent questions, implying things."

"Idut!"

Even Kysen jumped at Meren's roar. Idut cried out, then glared at her brother, but she stopped babbling.

"Where did they go?" Meren demanded.

"He said the walls of the house were crowding in on him. He's sensitive, you know, what with all this death. They'll be back in a moment."

"Idut," Meren said as he jumped up to catch a limb of the acacia, "you have the wits of an oryx."

Kysen swung himself up into the tree after Meren and joined him on top of the wall. This section of the wall was also the outer privacy wall for the compound. From it they looked past a couple of sycamores and a vegetable garden. Beyond them ran the canal that fed water from the Nile to fields that marched past the house. Meren pointed to a leaping figure in a shift. Bener flew across a field at a diagonal to the canal. Her course would allow her to intercept a skiff being paddled rapidly toward the river.

"We have to catch her before she reaches him."

"Who?" Kysen asked, but Meren had already leaped from the wall.

Kysen measured the distance to the ground, then lowered himself over the side of the wall before dropping. His caution put him behind Meren and forced him to put on a burst of speed to catch up. For the second time in less than a day, Kysen found himself hurtling across a field littered with stubble and hard clods of earth baking in the sun.

As he ran, he saw the skiff reach the junction with the river and turn toward the dock and Wings of Horus. Bener reached the bank while the occupant of the skiff paused, then stood up, balancing with the long pole used to shove the little boat along in the water. Kysen got his first good look at the man and nearly tripped over his own feet.

Without warning, there was a shriek from the deck of the ship. Paser stood at the railing, one hand on his injured head, the other pointing at the intruder in the water below. At the sound, the intruder hefted the pole, swung it, and bashed Paser in the head. Paser dropped like a fishing weight over the side. At the same time Bener stooped, picked up a clod of earth, and hurled it at the attacker. It hit the man square in the back.

Both Meren and Kysen cried out a warning as the man was thrown off balance and almost fell into the water. Meren hurled himself at Bener at the same time the attacker turned on her. Kysen shouted a warning as the pole swung at Bener's head. Meren pushed his daughter out of the way, ducked under the stone-crushing blow, and grabbed the pole. He jerked it toward himself, then jammed the end into the attacker's chest.

"Huh!" The man doubled over, still gripping the pole. Meren jerked on it again and pulled the assailant off his feet. He landed half in the water and half on the bank, where he scrambled for footing. He thrust his upper body up out of the mud. Kysen palmed his dagger and stuck the tip of it under the man's dirty chin.

"Quitting our hospitality so soon, Wah?"

Wah went still as he felt the point of the dagger. His kilt and chest were caked with mud.

"Get up," Kysen said.

Meren pulled Bener behind him. "Slowly, if you value your life."

"What madness is this?" Wah asked as he complied. On the dock, charioteers had jumped from Wings of Horns and were running toward them. Sailors were fishing Paser from the river. Women who had come to the river to do laundry, fishermen, and travelers began to gather at a discreet distance and stare.

Bener poked her head around Meren's bulk and beamed at him. "You see, Kysen. I knew it. I knew I'd discover who the murderer was if I was vigilant."

"Be quiet!" Meren turned on her. "What madness possessed you to take such a risk? You should have come to me, not chased after him yourself. He tried to kill you, you lackwitted goose." Bener pointed at the skiff. "He might have escaped if I hadn't followed him."

"Father," Kysen said with a nod toward the curious onlookers. "Shall we retire to the ship?"

Meren glanced at the fishermen and the women with their laundry, then glared at Bener. "Go home, daughter. I'll speak to you later." Without waiting to see if he was obeyed, Meren turned and marched toward the dock.

Kysen shoved Wah in front of him, and soon they were on board and surrounded by charioteers and sailors. Kysen held his dagger on the prisoner while Meren went over to the soaked heap of flesh and linen being guarded by several men. He bent over Paser for a moment, then returned to confront Wah. "He's dead."

Meren turned and walked to the deckhouse awning. He took a seat in a folding chair of carved cedar. Kysen pushed Wah over to kneel in front of his father. Then he signaled the charioteers. They lined themselves around the perimeter of the awning so that neither Meren,

Kysen, nor Wah could be seen. Wah glanced at the wall of soldiers as he wiped mud from his face and chest.

"What folly is this, my lord?" he asked. "I but wished to take a bit of respite on the cool water after being cooped up inside those walls for so long."

"And murder Paser along the way?" Kysen asked as he sheathed his dagger.

"Oh, that was an accident. Idut told me you'd captured him for some reason. I thought he was trying to escape when he cried out, so I tried to stop him." Wah gave Meren an uneasy glance, but when his captor remained silent, he went on. "And then-and then your daughter startled me by hitting me with a dirt clod. I–I reacted without thinking."

Kysen gave me an impatient laugh. "Wah, you're a fool if you think we're going to believe that tale."

Wah gushed with a deluge of protests, but as he babbled, Kysen was distracted by Meren. His father had remained silent far longer than expected, and he was sitting there absently rubbing his sun-disk scar. Kysen could tell from his distant expression that Meren wasn't listening to Wah at all. Then he caught a glimpse of something in Meren's eyes, a haunted look of dread that appeared and vanished in less than the space of a breath. Finally Meren stirred and beckoned Kysen. Kysen went to his father and bent down to hear his whisper. "We must question him alone. No guards, no one else except us."

In moments Kysen had snatched Wah and thrust him into the deckhouse. Charioteers and sailors alike responded to Meren's command and left the ship. Only Reia remained on board, standing guard at a distance from the awning so that he wouldn't hear anything said inside the cabin.

Once the ship was almost deserted, Kysen followed his father inside the deckhouse. They hadn't brought a lamp, and the only light filtered in from the high, rectangular windows. Wah was facing the door, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and looking from Meren to Kysen and back,