"But it wasn't his fault," the king said. "The rogue outwitted us all."
Meren sighed and grimaced as he got up from the deck with Kysen's assistance. "Thy majesty is possessed of logic and a sense of balance that Prince Ahiram has always lacked."
Tutankhamun frowned as he glanced over the drenched forms of his councillors. "What foolishness. It was but the luck of the hunt. I shall tell Ahiram so when he comes for guard duty tomorrow. If he's well enough to stand his watch."
"He'd rather stand guard than remain home within reach of a physician," Kysen said.
Ahiram's cowardice in regard to medical treatment was well known. The king smirked, then lost the battle to refrain from laughing. A little contrite, Kysen couldn't help but smile. Meren, however, seemed to feel no guilt about laughing at his absent friend, nor did Tanefer. As the sun blazed into radiance over the eastern desert, the sound of merriment floated over the water and lapped gently at the banks of the river.
The morning after the hippo hunt, Meren lay among the cushions of a couch set beneath the low-spreading branches of a fig tree in his orchard. His physician had wrapped bandages around his ribs so tightly he had a difficult time breathing. And they itched.
He scratched beneath the linen while Kysen read the reports on the inquiry into Qenamun's death that had come while they'd been in attendance upon the king.
"Qenamun's wife and five children are visiting her parents on their farm near Edfu," Kysen said as he paced in the shade of an incense tree. "The only person at his house except for servants is his aged mother, who's sick with grief."
"And those clients Qenamun went home early to meet?" Meren asked.
"One was Princess Hathor, who worries about being barren, and another is an overseer of royal surveyors, who suffers from swollen joints. Both have sought the aid of numerous physicians and priests beside Qenamun."
Meren maneuvered himself to a sitting position, waving Kysen away when he would have helped. "I'm only sore, Ky, not dying. Ah, here's Abu. I told him I wanted to review that report listing those who were at the temple and who also carried objects in which cobras could be hidden. What have you found, Abu?"
The aide sat down on a mat before Meren's couch and crossed his legs so that his kilt stretched out as flat as a table. On this surface he spread a roll of papyrus.
"A wealthy farmer from Abydos stopped at the House of Life before presenting a casket full of offerings at the sanctuary. He wanted to visit with his son, a scholar priest training under Qenamun." Abu pressed his palms down on the paper to hold it flat. "Three relief painters were in and out of there all day carrying boxes and baskets of brushes, plaster, paint, other tools."
Abu paused and glanced up at Meren. "Both Prince Rahotep and Prince Ahiram visited Qenamun. To talk about dream interpretations. And their servants carried boxes containing offerings. Of course, no one looked in the boxes."
"Of course," Meren said as he got up and lifted his face to the breeze that had whipped up abruptly. "Now go on and say it, Abu."
Kysen looked up from his own reports. "Say what?"
Abu released the papyrus roll and began gathering it into a tight cylinder. He said nothing.
"There are at least two more names on that list," Meren said. He paused and glanced at his son. "One of them is Ebana, who brought numerous documents to the House of Life late in the day before Qenamun was killed-in great leather document cases. And he was busy in one of the record chambers until after dark."
Meren carefully spread his arms wide in a stretch as Kysen appeared to think over the implications of this news. He smiled at his son.
"I knew you'd be interested. Can you guess the other name?"
"Parenefer," Kysen said at once.
"Very good."
"You thought I wouldn't consider a high priest?"
"The first prophet of the king of the gods," Meren said. "I wouldn't blame you for failing to consider him."
"Oh, I'd consider him, but what good will it do?"
Meren poured water into a cup from a jar suspended from the fig tree and drank. "You're right, Ky. Parenefer lives within the temple complex. He could have had someone put those cobras in Qenamun's casket. But why?"
"That's the difficulty with both deaths," Kysen said. "There seems to be no reason for either."
"Aye," Meren said, "and it seems that the only way to make progress is by force." He sat down on the couch again and gave Abu and Kysen a pained grin. "Do either of you look forward to attempting to put priests to the cane and whip?"
They lapsed into silence at the suggestion, for no one had ever done such a thing. Priests disciplined their own. And if the high priest or other high functionaries of the temple were involved, the only power that could bring them to account was that of pharaoh.
"There is one other," Abu said as he tied his papyrus roll. "Prince Tanefer was there on that day, but he carried nothing and came to visit your cousin, lord."
"Curse it," Meren said. "I should have asked who did not go to the temple. The list would have been shorter." He rubbed his chin. "I'm going to have to ask pharaoh for a special commission that enables me to question the princes and the priests of high rank." Such a commission would mean that he could force Parenefer, Ebana, and Rahotep to answer questions they didn't want to answer.
"I have another message, lord." Abu rose. "Cook waylaid me on my way here and said to tell you if you don't break your fast now, she's going to throw her spiced roast ducks in the river."
Meren jumped up from the couch and headed for the house with Kysen and Abu close behind. "By my ka, I spend my life rushing to and fro trying to please everyone-visiting royal statues, attending water tournaments, archery practice, dinners, murders at temples, hippo hunts, and now my cook commands my presence at my own table."
Tables awaited them on the loggia that stretched along the back side of the house. Meren had just finished half a duck when a royal guard arrived with a summons from pharaoh. He met Kysen's gaze.
"Don't look so amused," Meren said, "or I'll take you with me."
"Someone has to remain here to supervise the Qenamun and Unas inquiries."
"Very well. But if the king has found some bandits to hunt, I'm sending for you. I'm not riding into the desert after criminals in the heat of the year without sharing the experience with you. Come along, Abu."
His aide insisted upon an escort, so Meren arrived at the palace with Abu, four other charioteers, and several personal servants, as befitted a man of great consequence. From the moment he neared the royal residence, he noted the presence of more guards than usual.
A troop of charioteers raced by him as his chariot clattered down the long, wide avenue leading up to the palace walls. Growing more and more uneasy, Meren snapped his whip above the heads of his thoroughbreds. They galloped between arching palm trees and swung the chariot around in front of a line of royal guards.
Leaving his men and servants before the palace gates, he sought out the king in the chamber next to the privy apartments where Tutankhamun conducted many of his day-to-day government affairs. Rahotep stood outside the room talking to the chief of the city police and an officer of archers who served under Prince Tanefer. They stopped talking as Meren entered the king's office and stared at him.
Inside, Tanefer was gazing out at the city from a balcony. A great map of the delta was spread out on a table. Maya and Ay were pointing out survey lines to the king when Meren entered and bowed.
"Ah, Meren." The king left the map, motioned for the men to follow, and joined Tanefer on the balcony. 'Tell him," he said to Tanefer.
"Ahiram failed to come to guard duty at the palace this morn," Tanefer said.
So this was the reason for the additional guards. He began to feel stabs of apprehension. Raising a brow, he noted the lack of expression on Tanefer's face. "His wound has festered perhaps?"