Lynda Robinson: Murder at the God's Gate

"No one will think to look for you here, especially not in the cellar."

Meren was shoved downstairs and into the black depths of the subterranean room. Tanefer left him there and paused in the doorway at the top of the staircase.

"You have a day, my friend. Consider well. You could be my vizier. I'm going to need one after I kill Ay and Maya."

"You can't kill everyone."

"I grow weary of argument. It's as well you have a son. As long as you know I have him under my hand, you won't buck too hard at wearing a harness. A good evening to you, brother of my heart."

The door closed then, leaving Meren in darkness. He had a few hours at most. During that time, he must accustom himself to the idea of killing an old friend.

Kysen strode into the house followed by Abu and Reia. Servants passed him bearing freshly roasted meat and new bread.

"Mut," Kysen called.

The woman paused on her way to the great hall with a tray of food. "Where is Lord Meren?"

"I haven't seen him, lord. He went out earlier, then returned and shut himself in his office."

Kysen and his men made their way out of the house, through the pleasure garden, and to the offices. He was tired and disgruntled. He'd spent hours tracking down Rahotep and belaboring him with questions. Hot-bellied with resentment at Meren's treatment of him earlier at the palace, Rahotep had sparred, jousted, and lashed him with words. Finally he'd refused to answer any more questions. Kysen had lost his temper. If Abu hadn't stopped him, he would have punched the flat-faced, vain fool.

He shoved open the door to Meren's office. "Father, you'll have to talk to that arse Rahotep-"

His steps slowed as he realized the room was empty. Abu came in after him, followed by Reia, and they all glanced around.

"He's gone out again," Abu said. "I thought he said we'd meet here at mealtime."

Kysen said.

Reia nodded. "Aye, lord, he did."

"He'll be back soon, then," Kysen said as he plopped into a chair.

He was up again immediately when his gaze fell on the table bearing Qenamun's casket. Papyri were strewn over its surface. It was unlike his father to leave important materials in disarray. He went to the table and picked up one of the leather juggling balls that lay on top of the papyri.

Meren was always careful to conceal them, for only common entertainers juggled, not a hereditary prince and Friend of the King. Kysen peered into the casket.

"What is this doing here?" He lifted the silver mirror and turned to show it to Abu and Reia.

"I don't know," said Abu. Reia shook his head.

"You've never seen it?" Kysen asked.

Abu came closer and examined the mirror. "I think it belonged to the lord's wife. But if it's the same mirror, it's usually kept in the lord's bedchamber in a chest."

Kysen set the mirror on the table and glanced at the juggling balls again. Meren had left hurriedly, or he would never have left the juggling balls out. He would have put the mirror away, too. Tapping his fingers on the back of the mirror, Kysen thought for a while.

"Abu, search the house, grounds, and barracks, everything. See if my father is at home after all."

While he waited, he put away the juggling balls and placed the dream interpretations and other documents back in the casket. Abu returned with Reia.

"Lord Meren isn't here."

"Very well, we'll eat while we wait, but first send men to the offices of the vizier, and to the houses of Unas, Qenamun, and Ahiram, to see if Lord Meren has gone there."

By the time the sun was setting, his messengers had returned with no news of his father. No one had seen him, and the houses of the dead men appeared deserted. Kysen walked outside with Abu along the path in front of the house.

"I don't like this sudden disappearance," Kysen said.

"He took no men with him."

Kysen nodded and then grimaced. With word of Meren's fall from favor spreading, someone might have decided to rid himself of a rival at court. Meren's duties and place in Tutankhamun's affections had gained him enemies-Prince Hunefer, some of the army generals, now Rahotep. And Parenefer. And Ebana, who had once loved him, possibly hated him most of all. If Meren had discovered proof of the priests' role in the royal tomb desecration, his life would be in danger.

"Ebana," Kysen muttered.

Abu turned to him and shook his head. "That way lies danger, lord."

"Which is why you're coming with me. Get the men. We must make haste if we're to find him before he leaves the temple."

Kysen had Abu and the other charioteers follow him at a distance as they left the quay and approached the temple. Pure ones, laborers, scribes, and Servants of the God streamed forth between the pylons. Boys carrying their student scribe kits over their shoulders chased each other down the avenue and across the long shadow cast by the statue of pharaoh. Kysen approached the temple entrance from a side street and lingered just beyond the avenue at a tall stela inscribed with the great deeds of pharaoh's father, Amunhotep the Magnificent.

A bread vendor nearly bumped into him because he was standing concealed behind the tall slab of stone. He motioned to Abu, and the charioteers parted, distributing themselves at intervals along the avenue. One even leaned against the base of the king's statue.

Kysen watched as the flow of priests, servants, and slaves crested and then ebbed. Across the river the horizon was catching fire; a brilliant carnelian haze lit the cliffs that marked the beginning of the dead land. Glancing back at the temple gates, he saw two men emerge from their shadow.

Ebana must have had an engagement that required formal dress, for he'd donned a transparent pleated robe over his kilt. Kysen hadn't recognized him at once, for he wore a long court wig along with a belt and arm bands of electrum and turquoise. A matching broad collar covered his shoulders. The man with him was Tanefer, who rivaled Ebana's splendor in gold, lapis, and red jasper.

At his side, Abu stirred. Kysen put his arm in front of the charioteer.

"Wait until he's alone."

The two men had walked out of the temple in silence. Neither looked at the other. A chariot and driver appeared, rolling up to Tanefer. Tanefer leaned close to Ebana and said something. Ebana shook his head.

Tanefer laughed and held out his hand. His driver placed a whip in it. Tanefer touched Ebana on the arm with the coiled lash, and Kysen drew in his breath as the priest turned on the prince. He couldn't hear what Ebana said, but whatever it was caused Tanefer to laugh again as he mounted his chariot. The whip flicked out to tease the pleats in Ebana's robe. Jerking out of reach, Ebana hissed something at Tanefer, who executed an elaborate bow from his chariot, cracked the whip, and drove away.

Ebana walked down the avenue swiftly. Kysen waited until the priest was almost opposite him and slid out into the street. As he moved, charioteers left their positions and surrounded the priest.

"Greetings, adopted cousin," said Kysen.

Ebana stopped when Kysen stepped into his path, then glanced around as Abu and the others closed in on him. His hand dropped to the gold hilt of the dagger in his belt.

"What do you mean by this display?"

Kysen said, "Do you know where my father is?"

"No," Ebana said. "Where is he?"

"You haven't seen him?"

Ebana narrowed his eyes, then smiled. "Have you lost your father, common cousin? How negligent of you."

Kysen stepped nearer, which caused Ebana to grip his dagger and the charioteers to stir. "I've no time for diversions and antics. Have you seen my father or not?"

"Earlier this afternoon, but fear not. He left me in good health. Why are you so agitated, boy? Your father needs no band of armed governesses trailing after him."