Suzanne Robinson (27 page)

“Hold your tongue.”

“Panther, admit it. AU the planning, the riches, the power—they weren’t necessary for my death. They were necessary for your quest for ascendancy.”

“Your death would make little difference to my other plans. You die for other reasons.”

“Reasons that should have died with our parents,” Seth said.

Sennefer looked over the count’s shoulder at Anqet and the others crowded in the doorway. “Anqet is looking at me as if she wants to rend me with her own hands.”

Beyond Anqet were charioteers, spearmen, and archers—Seth’s men—watching, silent. Sennefer let out a long sigh. His body relaxed from its tense, watchful stance.

“You’ve ruined everything, Falcon,” Sennefer said “We would have restored Amun-Ra to his rightful place in Pharaoh’s life.”

“We?”

Seth moved a little closer to his gold-clad brother.

“Who is we? You’re talking about that old lecher of a high priest, aren’t you?”

Sennefer nodded dreamily. “The first prophet of Amun-Ra. Yes. You see, I promised him Khet in return for his support in becoming vizier.”

“You promised that perverted old man my Little Fire?”

Sennefer glared at the count. “It was necessary.”

“Don’t you care about what would happen to him?” Seth balled his fists and cursed. “Don’t you care about any of us? Or are we all mere grains of wheat to be crushed between the mortar and pestle of your jealous ambitions? You hurt Anqet, and you hurt me. And you were going to throw your own brother into a pit of debauchery.”

For the second time, Seth lost control. He knocked the dagger aside with a blow so hard that it flew out of Sennefer’s hand. It slid across the stone floor Sennefer dove for it with Seth in pursuit.

At the door, Anqet started for the two men, but Lord Dega held her back.

“The commander must deal with his brother alone. It is his wish.”

Seth caught his brother’s leg as the master reached for the dagger, tackling Sennefer as he struggled to his knees. The count reached around and grabbed the arm that held the dagger Sennefer jabbed his elbow into the
count’s ribs. Seth doubled over Sennefer twisted around and stabbed but Seth knocked the dagger aside. He fastened his hands on Sennefer’s arm once more. Kneeling face to face, gasping for air, neither could move the other.

Sennefer smiled. “Falcon, you’re bleeding like a sacrificial bull.”

Seth laughed and increased the force of his grip.

“Remember the time we put all those sacrificial pigs in our tutor’s room while he was bedding that peasant girl?” Seth asked. “The sow nearly gored me, but you stabbed her with a walking stick and plucked me out of the way.” Seth looked into his brother’s eyes, perplexed.

“I spent much time extricating you from disasters. Father would have thrashed you at least a dozen times for sneaking out of the house at night.” Sennefer sighed and then said one bewildered word, “Falcon?”

“I’ll let go if you will,” Seth whispered. He looked from Sennefer’s griefstricken face to the dagger between them.

The tension in Sennefer’s arms relaxed. Seth slackened his hold, stood, and slowly backed away from the older man. Sennefer let him go without objection, but remained kneeling. He looked up at Seth, a quizzical smile on his lips.

Seth burst out: “Oh, Panther, I can’t think of a way to get you out of this swamp you’ve sailed into.”

Sennefer lowered his basalt-black eyes.

“You can’t,” he said. “I must navigate this sea alone it seems.”

The master reversed his hold on the dagger and plunged it swiftly into his chest. The blade slid between the folds of the gold and leather armor.

Seth cried out his brother’s name as he swooped down at the dying man. To the accompaniment of the horrified screams of their youngest brother, Seth gathered Sennefer in his arms

Sennefer stared up at his brother “Little barbarian, you will see that I make the last journey as I should?”

“Of course. Everything will be correct—the embalming,
the mourners, the tomb. Just as you want. I pledge my ka.”

Sennefer nodded once. His eyes closed, and his hand slackened its hold on Seth’s. His face contorted with pain.

“I should have taken you with me, Falcon. I fear to make this journey alone.”

“Horus will take you by the hand,” Seth said. “Listen, Panther. Don’t be afraid. I know the words.”

Seth felt his brother squeeze his hand and then relax. His vision blurred with tears, Seth drew the dead man to his chest and finished his chant.

Seth laid Sennefer’s body gently before the image of his god. As he knelt before the two golden forms, soft arms encircled him.

“There was no other way, my love,” Anqet said. “He knew that.”

Seth made no reply. He stayed on his knees with Anqet at his side, feeling numb, and listened to Khet’s sobs.

Long after the chapel was deserted of warriors, his wits finally drew themselves together from the splinters of his senses. He wasn’t sure which god had given him the strength to survive the last few hours.

As if from a great distance, he was aware of Anqet’s silent companionship. An unwelcome thought passed through his mind. Marriage had caused Sennefer’s death as surely as Pharaoh was shepherd of his people, marriage and
broken promises. Could he risk Anqet’s love by marrying her? He had lost so much already.

Seth withdrew from Anqet’s embrace.

“Come, beloved. I must comfort the brother I have left.”

On the portico at dusk of the day following Lord Sennefer’s death, Anqet knelt before an ebony-and-cedar chest. Bearing the hieroglyphs of the heretic king’s name, the sepia panels of the box were surrounded by carved gilt symbols of life and fortune. Sennefer’s men had spilled the contents when attacked, and Anqet was restoring them. She folded an intricately pleated robe with quivering fingers. Heretic or not, Akhenaten had been a god on earth, the Living Horus, and this was his raiment. As she closed the lid of the box, she caught a whiff of old funerary incense and dead flowers. She rubbed her hands on her skirt but stopped when she saw a crumpled papyrus beneath one leg of the box.

The contents of the roll were written in the cursive version of hieroglyphs used for everyday purposes. It was a hymn to the heretic’s sun-god, the Aten:

Anqet rolled the papyrus up hastily and thrust it in the cedar chest. She snapped the lid closed and eyed it warily. A hymn to the Aten in the Pharaoh’s own hand.

“Amun-Ra, protect me.”

Anqet stood up and wiped her palms on her skirt. She now realized the full implications of Sennefer’s actions. Sennefer and his allies among the priesthood and nobility had dared to touch the sacred possessions of a god-king. How far did the intrigue extend?

Two servants filed past carrying more royal furniture. Anqet shook herself out of her reflection and searched the grounds for Seth. Members of one of the royal spear squadrons filed past with a line of prisoners. Servants went back and forth from the house carrying tomb furnishings, which were being gathered for shipment to Thebes. One of Seth’s officers supervised the packing of chairs, stools, weapons, games, and walking sticks. The tomb robbers had been thorough. All around the manor house stood armed guards who allowed no strangers in the high-walled compound.

In the shadows cast by a row of palms, Anqet saw the count. A white bandage on his biceps, Seth stood with his arm around Khet’s shoulders and spoke with a priest from the local temple of the god Monthu. The man would escort Sennefer’s body to Thebes and the embalmers. Seth had told her he wasn’t sure Pharaoh would allow Sennefer’s burial after the count told him the truth about his brother Tutankhamun might avenge himself on Sennefer by depriving him of life after death. Anqet understood; she might want to do the same thing if Hauron destroyed the souls of her mother and father.

Another group of prisoners shuffled by on their way to temporary incarceration in one of the cattle pens. Paheri was among them, but Merab had not been found. Lord Dega had sent patrols in search of the man and other escapees. Seth’s young second-in-command led this latest group of thieves. Anqet smiled at him as he passed, and Dega raised his arm in salute.

When she looked back to Seth, the count had finished his business with the priest. He and Khet walked toward her. Khet’s head drooped as though it were the too-heavy blossom of a plant. Seeing his two brothers in mortal combat and witnessing Sennefer’s suicide had shocked the
boy. He clung to Seth in desperation, uncertain of how to grieve for the brother he had loved so unconditionally.

Anqet inspected Khet’s blue-shadowed eyes. She’d stayed awake with him for several hours last night while the boy stared into nothing and shed silent tears. Seth had finally ordered a mild sleeping draft for both of them. Khet was smiling at her now. It made Anqet’s spirits lighten to know that the youth liked and trusted her. She smiled back at him.

“I still don’t understand how you got here,” she said to the boy.

“He recognized one of Merab’s men talking to a gang of thugs in the village and decided to play spy,” Seth said. “He bullied his tutor into a detour to Crooked Palm, where he met Dega.”

Khet squirmed under his brother’s annoyed look. “I was right, wasn’t I? You needed help.”

“You can’t deny that,” Anqet said.

“I’m not denying it,” Seth said. “But he should have stayed with his guards.”

“If I had, you might be dead,” Khet said.

“Ah, forgive me, Little Fire. You risked your life for me, and I rail at you. This raising of children is not an easy thing.”

As the two males exchanged solemn nods of commiseration, Anqet giggled at the spectacle of this aristocratic warrior and sparkling youth complaining like her old nurse. Her laughter made them grin back at her.

Seth’s smile melted. “We leave for Thebes in the morning. Pharaoh must be told of what has passed.”

Anqet’s spirits plunged. She’d forgotten her own troubles. “I’ll stay here and write Lord Menana.”

“No.”

“I did not ask permission.”

Seth put his hands on his hips and looked down at her “I didn’t give it. Merab is still free. You can’t stay here alone, and you’re not writing anyone.”

“Merab be damned to serpent’s poison! I’m in no danger here.” Anqet glared at Seth. “You may own everything within these walls, my lord count, including Khet, but
you don’t own me. You will never own me. I am Anqet of Nefer I must live within the honor of my house and family, just as you must live in this house of ancient lineage.”

He didn’t want the responsibility, only the pleasure, of loving her It galled Anqet to acknowledge this fact, but it was true.

Seth looked out at the busy servants, warriors, and slaves. He cast a sideways glance at Anqet, one she knew meant his devious wits were at work.

“I have word of your home from the man I sent there,” he said.

Anqet stared at Seth. “You have word? What word?”

“All appears normal at your estate. On the surface.” Seth leaned against a column in the shade of the portico. Khet moved beside him. Seth put a protective arm around his shoulders and looked at her with the eyes of innocence. “My agent asked about Nefer in the hamlet downriver. The estate runs as it always has, except that the mistress has been stolen to the sorrow of her loving uncle. Some scribe of the uncle’s is steward in her place. Do you know a man named Thanasa, son of Thuty-hotpe?”

“Who?”

“I didn’t think so. This Thanasa is the man your uncle left in charge of Nefer. My agent says he’s increased the lord’s share demanded of the tenant farmers by tenfold, and everything goes to Hauron. Harvest will see your people hungry, beloved.”

“I told you! I must get help and rid Nefer of Thanasa.” Anqet gritted her teeth.

“I’ll help you, Anqet,” Khet said from his place beside Seth. “We’ll run this man off the way we did Lord Merab.”

Seth threw up his hands. “Bareka! Will you two consider what you’re saying? A woman and a boy intend to ally themselves with a rustic lordling to take over an estate guarded by men as brutal as any we’ve got in the cattle pens. You didn’t think of that, did you? Thanasa is a skinny, hip-swashing viper, but he rules through the squadron
of cutthroats Hauron left with him. They’d feed you to the crocodiles—if you were lucky.”

Khet stirred and made a small sound of distress.

“So I’m to stay with you where it’s safe,” Anqet said.

“Only until I can think of the best way to deal with Hauron. The man is dangerous. He has control of you by law, and he’s clever.”

“I know that,” Anqet said. “That’s why I can’t wait. I’ve been gone over a month, and there’s no telling what he’s done to my people. I’m worried about Bastis and Nebre.”

“They’ve been exiled from Nefer. They have taken refuge with your precious Lord Menana. My agent says they are well.”

“How can I be sure without seeing for myself?” Anqet asked.

Seth tossed his auburn head. “Don’t you trust this heroic suitor you crave?”

“Don’t be nasty,” Anqet said.

Seth shoved away from the column. He faced Anqet. The two locked eyes.

“You can’t go now,” Seth said.

“I’ll go to Thebes and hire warriors myself.”

“Stubborn little witch. Hauron is in Thebes looking for you.”

All thoughts of saving Nefer fled, and Anqet wrapped her arms around her upper body. Goose bumps raised on her flesh. Her heart pounded, and she felt light-headed. She almost expected to see Hauron behind her.

Warm, firm arms enclosed her, and she started. Seth pulled her head to his shoulder.