Agatha Christie - Death Comes as the End

He left her, moving with the swiftness and easy gait of a young gazelle.

Renisenb went slowly on to where Kait and the children were playing by the lake.

Kait spoke to her, but Renisenb answered at random.

Kait, however, did not seem to notice, or else, as usual, her mind was too full of the children to pay much attention to other things.

Suddenly, breaking the silence, Renisenb said:

"Shall I take another husband? What do you say, Kait?"

Kait replied placidly without any great interest:

"It would be as well, I think. You are strong and young, Renisenb, and you can have many more children."

"Is that all a woman's life, Kait? To busy myself in the back of the house, to have children, to spend afternoons with them by the lake under the sycamore trees?"

"It is all that matters to a woman. Surely you know that. Do not speak as though you were a slave. Women have power in Egypt - inheritance passes through them to their children. Women are the life blood of Egypt."

Renisenb looked thoughtfully at Teti, who was busily making a garland of flowers for her doll. Teti was frowning a little with the concentration of what she was doing. There had been a time when Teti had looked so like Khay, pushing out her underlip, turning her head a little sideways, that Renisenb's heart had turned over with pain and love. But now not only was Khay's face dim in Renisenb's memory, but Teti no longer had that trick of head-turning and pushing out her lip. There had been other moments when Renisenb had held Teti close to her, feeling the child still part of her own body, her own living flesh, with a passionate sense of ownership. "She is mine, all mine," she had said to herself.

Now, watching her, Renisenb thought: "She is me - and she is Khay..."

Then Teti looked up, and seeing her mother, she smiled. It was a grave, friendly smile, with confidence in it and pleasure.

Renisenb thought: "No, she is not me and she is not Khay - she is herself. She is Teti. She is alone, as I am alone, as we are all alone. If there is love between us we shall be friends all our life - but if there is not love she will grow up and we shall be strangers. She is Teti and I am Renisenb."

Kait was looking at her curiously.

"What do you want, Renisenb? I do not understand."

Renisenb did not answer. How put into words for Kait the things she hardly understood herself? She looked round her, at the courtyard walls, at the gaily colored porch of the house, at the smooth waters of the lake and the graceful little pleasure pavilion, the neat flower beds and the clumps of papyrus. All safe, shut in, nothing to fear, with around her the murmur of the familiar home sounds, the babble of children's voices, the raucous, far-off, shrill clamor of women in the house, the distant lowing of cattle.

She said slowly:

"One cannot see the River from here."

Kait looked surprised.

"Why should one want to see it?"

Renisenb said slowly:

"I am stupid. I do not know."

Before her eyes, very clearly, she saw spread out the panorama of green fields, rich and lush, and beyond, far away, an enchanted distance of pale rose and amethyst fading into the horizon, and cleaving the two, the pale silver blue of the Nile...

She caught her breath - for with the vision, the sights and sounds around her faded - there came instead a stillness, a richness, an infinite satisfaction... She said to herself: "If I turn my head, I shall see Hori. He will look up from his papyrus and smile at me... Presently the sun will set and there will be darkness and then I shall sleep... That will be death."

"What did you say, Renisenb?"

Renisenb started. She was not aware she had spoken aloud. She came back from her vision to reality. Kait was looking at her curiously.

"You said 'death,' Renisenb. What were you thinking?"

Renisenb shook her head.

"I don't know. I didn't mean -" She looked round her again. How pleasant it was, this family scene, with the splashing water and the children at play. She drew a deep breath.

"How peaceful it is here. One can't imagine anything - horrible - happening here."

But it was by the lake that they found Ipy the next morning. He was sprawled face downwards with his face in the water where a hand had held him while he drowned.

SECOND MONTH OF SUMMER, 10TH DAY

Imhotep sat huddled down upon himself. He looked very much older, a broken, shrunken old man. On his face was a piteous look of bewilderment.

Henet brought him food and coaxed him to take it.

"Yes, yes, Imhotep, you must keep up your strength."

"Why should I? What is strength? Ipy was strong - strong in youth and beauty - and now he lies in the brine bath... My son, my dearly loved son. The last of my sons."

"No, no, Imhotep - you have Yahmose, your good Yahmose."

"For how long? No, he too is doomed. We are all doomed. What evil is this that has come upon us? Could I know that such things would come of taking a concubine into my house? It is an accepted thing to do - it is righteous and according to the law of men and Gods. I treated her with honor. Why, then, should these things come upon me? Or is it Ashayet who wreaks vengeance upon me? Is it she who will not forgive? Certainly she has made no answer to my petition. The evil business still goes on."

"No, no, Imhotep. You must not say that. So short a time has passed since the bowl was placed in the offering-chamber. Does one not know how long affairs of law and justice take in this world - how endless are the delays in the Nomarch's court - and still more when a case goes up to the Vizier? Justice is justice, in this world and the next, a business that moves slowly but is adjusted with righteousness in the end."

Imhotep shook his head doubtfully. Henet went on:

"Besides, Imhotep, you must remember that Ipy was not Ashayet's son - he was born to your sister Ipi. Why, then, should Ashayet concern herself violently on his behalf? But with Yahmose, it will be different - Yahmose will recover because Ashayet will see to it that he does."

"I must admit, Henet, that your words comfort me... There is much in what you say. Yahmose, it is true, recovers strength now every day. He is a good loyal son - but, oh! for my Ipy - such spirit - such beauty!" Imhotep groaned anew.

"Alas! Alas!" Henet wailed in sympathy.

"That accursed girl and her beauty! Would I had never set eyes on her."

"Yes, indeed, dear master. A daughter of Set if I ever saw one. Learned in magic and evil spells, there can be no doubt about it."

There was the tap of a stick on the floor and Esa came limping into the hall. She gave a derisive snort.

"Has no one in this house any sense? Have you nothing better to do than bleat out curses against an unfortunate girl who took your fancy and who indulged in a little feminine spite and malice, goaded by the stupid behavior of the stupid wives of your stupid sons?"

"A little spite and malice - is that what you call it, Esa? When, of my three sons, two are dead and one is dying! Oh! that my mother should say such things to me!"

"It seems necessary that someone should say them, since you cannot recognize facts for what they are. Wipe out of your mind this silly superstitious belief that a dead girl's spirit is working this evil. It was a live hand that held Ipy's head down in the lake to drown, and a live hand that dropped poison into the wine that Yahmose and Sobek drank. You have an enemy, yes, Imhotep, but an enemy here in this house. And the proof is that since Hori's advice was taken and Renisenb herself prepares Yahmose's food, or a slave prepares it while she watches, and that her hand carries it to him, since then, I say, Yahmose has gained health and strength every day. Try to stop being a fool, Imhotep, and moaning and beating your head - in all of which Henet is being extremely helpful -"