House of Two Pharaohs, page 6
A space had been revealed that led beneath the flagstones – just big enough for a man. Without a second thought, Piay dropped into the narrow tunnel and scrambled out of view.
Long moments passed, and Taita began to fear that the nomarch had blundered into some kind of trap. But then a flushed Piay burst back into view, heaving himself up into the vault.
‘The tunnel has been cut into the bedrock itself and runs to the edge of a midden,’ he announced. ‘The entrance has been covered over with wood panelling and clay bricks. You were right. This was how the gold was taken from the vault, how the murderer surprised Djau-Aa before slitting his throat.’
Taita smiled at the begrudging admiration on the nomarch’s face. ‘When I was a slave, long ago,’ he said, ‘my master tasked me with designing secret vaults and passages for his many illicit enterprises. This design was well conceived, but no chamber is impenetrable, given enough time and the right tools.’
‘With all the work this entailed, the thief no doubt intended to return time and again to steal from the wealth stored here,’ Piay surmised. ‘And knowing this, he was not as careful as perhaps he should have been. He left this behind.’
Taita studied the object that Piay held out to him. It was a golden senet board, exquisitely inlaid with mother-of-pearl and lapis lazuli. ‘If his objective were limited to the wealth stored in this chamber, why would our intruder not take as much as he could, in the interlude between Djau-Aa’s murder and the discovery of his body?’ Taita reached out for the box and took the cool metal into his hands. ‘Surely, he would know that by killing the scribe, scrutiny would follow, and his ability to come and go unnoticed would cease. And yet, he has taken only a modest portion of the vast treasure of Memphis.’ He watched the light play over the symbols scattered across the senet squares. ‘There are gems in this vault worth twenty times the value of this child’s toy.’
Piay frowned at his master. ‘Do you mean to imply that Djau-Aa’s murder was the intruder’s objective, and not the gold?’
‘We must consider all possibilities,’ Taita replied. ‘The thief must have known that his work would be discovered, but he did not want it discovered immediately. Why? Logic tells us that this is something more than the simple theft of a few pieces of gold.’
Piay grunted in dismay. ‘Bigger plan or no, there is only one person who could have built such a hidden passage. And if he did not authorise it, then he must at least have known about it – as it could not be hidden from him. I know who we must speak to.’
‘Yes. We have our first mortal suspect, at last,’ Taita replied.
• • •
T
he master mason was a tall man with a hooked nose. He was dressed in a bright amber robe studded with gems across the breast. Haman was his name, and he was well respected in Memphis, coming from a long line of master masons who had passed down the secret skills of their trade from father to son. He would have endured three initiation rites to achieve his elevated status, one of which would have forced him to experience his own death and rebirth.
Haman’s house was not far from the Temple of Ptah. His elegant residence was large and airy, constructed from polished white limestone and marble, the walls masterfully painted in vivid colours with murals depicting the construction of the Great Monuments. Taita had rarely seen such work outside the great tombs, and as the designer of the scenes that lined the walls of Pharaoh Mamose’s tomb, which lay in the mountains to the south of Qebui, he could appreciate the craftmanship more than most.
Informed of Piay and Taita’s arrival, Haman welcomed them in his study. ‘Nomarch! Lord High Chancellor!’ he said with a deep bow. ‘To what do I owe this great honour?’
‘I have come to commend you on your work,’ Taita said. ‘Memphis is much improved since last I saw it.’
Haman bowed again. ‘The nomarch’s determination to see this city rebuilt does him great credit.’
‘I understand the city vault was also your work?’ Taita said.
‘Have you seen it?’ Haman asked, brightening.
‘I have.’
‘And it met your expectations?’ the master mason asked.
‘A masterpiece.’
Haman smiled, pleased to receive such a compliment from Pharaoh’s Lord High Chancellor. ‘Let us refresh ourselves as we discuss it.’ He clapped his hands, and after a short interval two slaves appeared with cups of cool sherbet and sticky honey cakes.
As the slaves set the drinks and sweet morsels down on a low table, Taita looked around the room, resting his attention first on a marble statue of the Great Architect, then on the exquisitely carved cedar-wood chests and chairs imported from the lands on the eastern edge of the Great Green. These were the trappings of a successful life. Why, then, had this wealthy man turned to crime? It seemed he had all that he could ever desire. But there was also no doubt that only Haman could have ensured that the passageway had remained undetected during the construction of the vault.
‘My love?’ A lilting voice drifted across the cool courtyard beyond Haman’s study, and Taita turned to see a fashionably dressed woman of around forty years of age. Her wide eyes were emphasised by thick lines of black mesdemet, and she wore a wig that framed her sharp cheekbones. Her hands rested on the shoulders of two children: a boy with a mop of black hair and a mischievous expression, and a girl who had caught her mother’s beauty. She stared at Taita, but when he smiled at her, she looked away, embarrassed.
‘Yes, my love?’ Haman replied.
‘Have you forgotten? We are expected at the house of Ankhmet this afternoon, to celebrate the birth of the new child.’
‘I have not forgotten, my love,’ Haman said warmly, ‘but I must attend to my guests first. The great sage Taita is Lord High Chancellor to Pharaoh himself, and does not often have reason to visit from Thebes. I will meet you at the house.’
‘We will not keep your husband any longer than is necessary,’ Taita offered, knowing that in all likelihood, Haman would be heading to a cell rather than to the celebration.
The woman bowed and ushered the children away as Haman turned back to Taita and Piay. ‘My apologies. I try to be an attentive husband and father, but sometimes these tiresome domestic matters intrude into the hours of work . . .’ He paused. ‘You say you have seen the vault? Have you been inside it? I have the plans here, if you would like to see them.’
Taita smiled. ‘I understand that there is much in the mason’s art that must be kept secret from those who have not been initiated.’ He paused, then added, ‘I would like to ask you about the construction of a hidden passageway in the vault.’
Haman’s features twitched with shock. ‘There is no hidden passageway in the vault. I would know.’
‘That is why we are here. The passageway was discovered this afternoon, after the death of a scribe led us to uncover the theft of gold from the vault.’
Haman moistened his suddenly dry mouth. ‘This cannot be,’ he stuttered. ‘I know nothing of this –’
‘Then you did not do the work of the master mason for which you were engaged?’ Piay interjected.
‘If there is a passage –’
‘There is.’
‘. . . then it can only have been constructed under cover of darkness, dug from outside the temple.’
‘Are you expecting us to believe that you would not have seen the signs?’ Piay allowed a hardness to enter his voice. Haman winced when he heard it. ‘The stones that disguised the entrance to the passage were cut with the skill of a master mason,’ Piay continued, ‘so that even a needle could not pass between the joins. It was impossible to tell that they could be removed. Not even your most talented craftsmen could have done this without your guidance and supervision.’
Haman took a step back, his composure ebbing. He glanced from side to side, a hunted beast searching for a way to flee.
‘Wasting our time with more excuses will not serve you well,’ Piay cautioned. ‘I will oversee the kenbet court, where judgment will be passed. At the very least, you will be imprisoned and expected to repay what was stolen a hundred and eighty times over. And I warn you that a substantial amount is missing from the vault.’
Haman pressed his face into his hands. ‘The debt will destroy me,’ he groaned. ‘My wife . . . My children . . .’
‘Why did you do it, Haman?’ Taita asked. ‘A man of your standing? You want for nothing.’
‘I had no choice!’ the master mason cried. ‘The lives of my children were at stake.’
‘Who is behind the tunnel?’ Piay demanded. ‘Speak up now and the kenbet may find some mercy for you.’
‘I cannot.’ Haman began to sob like a child and Taita could almost smell the fear-sweat on him. ‘For the love of the gods! If I speak, I am doomed. My wife, my children, too.’
‘Tell me what part Anubis plays in this,’ Taita asked quietly.
Haman’s features twisted in terror as Taita’s words found their mark.
‘His sign was left on the floor of the vault, written in the blood of the murdered scribe.’
‘His killer undoubtedly entered and left through the secret passage which you had built, Haman. You have his blood on your hands,’ Piay added.
‘I had hoped that no one would come to harm. That in the end, whatever they took would not be missed. You have to believe me.’
‘Your hope has proven false,’ Piay said flatly.
‘Help us now,’ Taita urged. ‘How were you approached?’
Haman’s countenance drained of colour. ‘The scribe,’ he whispered.
Taita and Piay glanced at each other curiously. ‘What scribe?’ Piay asked. ‘Not Djau-Aa, surely.’
The master mason stared at his hands for a long moment before quietly delivering his confession. ‘I do not know his name. He is a tall man, with eyes that could freeze the Nile. I know not how, but one night I returned to the house to find him waiting for me, here, in this very room . . .’
Taita leaned in, his curiosity piqued. ‘What did he ask from you?’
‘He ordered me to construct a secret passage into the vault, which could be accessed from outside the Temple of Ptah. It was to be undetectable, even if you were told exactly where to find it. When I refused to comply with his demand, the scribe told me that he was the emissary of Anubis himself. That if I refused, I would answer to the god personally – and that my journey to the afterlife would not be made alone. That my wife and children would accompany me to the gates of eternity.’
‘Surely a man of your position would not be so easily compelled,’ Piay said sceptically. ‘You had to know that what this scribe was asking would destroy you, were it to be discovered.’
The master mason nodded sullenly. ‘You are right, my lord. Initially, I dismissed the threat. I was disturbed that a man like the scribe had so easily found a way into my home – even if my wife and children hadn’t seen him – so I set about replacing my household staff, and for a while I paid some guards from the guild to keep a watch, but when nothing more happened . . . I began to think little of it. That was, until we laid the foundation of the vault and made no concession for the passage. Somehow, Anubis and his scribe knew of it. For shortly thereafter, my brother-in-law, also a member of the guild, went missing. He had always been a reliable man, so I was perplexed by his disappearance. I went to his home, to see if he had fallen ill, and found him as you found your murdered scribe. On the floor with his throat slit, and with the sign of Anubis scrawled in his blood.’
‘Why did you not report this killing?’ Piay asked.
‘I dreaded what might befall me and my family if I revealed what had happened, so I hid the body, burying it at the construction site. The very next day, I began alterations to the structure.’
‘None of what you have told us proves that this scribe was, in fact, the emissary of Anubis,’ Piay declared.
Haman shook his head sadly. ‘You might think not. But the death of my brother-in-law made me fear for the lives of my wife and children all the same.’ He looked wide-eyed from one of his interrogators to the other. ‘I cannot tell you anything more. Already, I have said too much.’
Piay’s expression softened. ‘You have no reason to be afraid. I will station a guard at your door day and night. We will protect you, and your family.’
‘You know of the passageway,’ the master mason replied. ‘That shows I have failed.’ He turned his resigned eyes on Taita. ‘Not even the great Lord Taita can save me from the wrath of Anubis now.’
• • •
P
iay escorted the master mason through the palace gate, as Taita trailed thoughtfully behind the two men. The nomarch had promised, for the sake of Haman’s family and his reputation, that he would not be bound if he submitted willingly to his imprisonment. Concern for the man’s life had led Piay to declare that he would incarcerate him on the palace grounds, in the cells beneath the garrison block, where only the most notorious of offenders were held. There, he could be properly protected against the man he called the scribe, or anyone who might do his bidding.
As Piay handed his prisoner over to the waiting guards, Taita came to his side, and together they watched as Haman was escorted underground. ‘The riddle grows. Perhaps the death of Djau-Aa was ordered by this other scribe.’
Piay shook his head, trying to make sense of this new development. ‘It is the first time I have heard of any such person.’
‘I have no doubt,’ Taita replied. ‘But we both are familiar with someone who, I am quite certain, will know him.’
Piay glanced unhappily at the steps leading to the cells beneath the guardhouse.
‘I can accompany you,’ Taita offered, sensing Piay’s unease. ‘If that will make your task easier.’
‘No. He is more likely to speak truthfully if he speaks to me alone. He will see your presence as a challenge.’
Leaving Taita where he stood in the verdant, sun-kissed garden, Piay descended the stairs into the torchlit darkness, where his father awaited him.
• • •
A
t the bottom of the steps, Piay breathed in the dank air, thick with the smell of human waste. Away from the one small lamp guttering in a corner, the darkness was abyssal. Piay kicked out at a rat that scurried in front of his toes, the tip of his sandal catching under its swollen belly and throwing it into the void.
Once his eyes had adjusted to the half-light, Piay approached a cell door and called Asil’s name. He knew his father would recognise his voice, but it was impossible to know if he would answer, and Piay could see nothing in the gloom beyond the small window in the door.
‘What do you want?’ Asil growled. His voice sounded parchment-thin, but Piay knew from long experience that his father made a play of his advanced age, feigning weakness so his opponents would underestimate him.
‘I have come to see how you are –’
‘Bad.’
‘And if you want for anything.’
Asil laughed hollowly. ‘My freedom. And a sharp knife to cut the throats of all those who have wronged me.’
Piay knew his father included his own son amongst them.
‘What, no gratitude?’ Piay said. ‘By rights, you should have been executed for your crimes.’
Finally, his father’s form emerged from the other shadows. He was standing deep inside the cell, glowering at his son. Even in the dark, his eyes glittered with cunning.
Asil was the leader of the Guild of Thieves in Memphis. As a free man, he had left a trail of misery in his wake – stealing food from the starving and robbing the dying. He had been imprisoned for leading the uprising that had claimed the lives of Zahur, the previous governor of Memphis, and Lord Harrar, Pharaoh’s envoy to the Lower Kingdom. Piay had felt little admiration for either man, but murder was murder.
‘This is no kind of life, boy. With each day I spend in this pit, death grows more appealing.’
Under other circumstances, Asil would have been one of the first to be questioned about the death of Djau-Aa and the theft of the gold from the city vault, but Piay knew that for all the old man’s guile, he was not ingenious enough to conceive of such an audacious heist. Brute force and threats were his currency.
‘You would do well to address me with more respect,’ Piay said in an authoritative tone. ‘I may be your son, but I am also the nomarch of this city.’
‘Credit to me,’ Asil spat.
‘The blood we share is all that prevents me from granting you the death you deserve. And I promise, if I change my mind, that death will not be delivered in the manner you hope.’
Asil sneered again and bowed deeply, mocking his son. ‘I hear the great Taita has set foot in Memphis,’ he said as he straightened. ‘The man who took my place as your father and made the boy I loved into . . . you.’ He narrowed his eyes at Piay.
‘A man who holds himself to the highest standard,’ Piay retorted. ‘Who understands honour above all things.’
‘Honour? Only those who are born into wealth can afford such a worthless thing.’
‘Honour is what sets us apart from two dogs fighting over a bone.’ Piay looked at his father with sympathy, but he knew that he would never understand. ‘But I did not come here to give you a lesson in morality.’
‘Thank the gods for that,’ Asil sneered. ‘Why did you come, then? Speak.’
‘The Guild of Thieves knows of every crime committed in this city. Nothing is stolen here without your approval.’
‘Yes, yes. Spit it out, boy. What do you want?’
‘There has been a theft from the new city vault.’
Asil stiffened. He narrowed his eyes, his attention caught. It was clear from the way he held his head and the intensity of his stare that he admired the ambition of the thief.
‘Are you accusing me?’
Piay shook his head. ‘This theft was far beyond the abilities of you and your thugs,’ he said. ‘It was planned by a great mind. Besides, you are in here, rotting.’
‘You would be unwise to doubt the reach of my arm,’ Asil retorted. ‘But I will tell you now – this was not the work of the Guild of Thieves. I heard that the scribe had been murdered, but you have done well to prevent talk of this theft spreading. It does not reflect well on you, Nomarch.’ Asil ground out the word from between his teeth. ‘A new vault, built at considerable expense, and within a week it is already breached?’ He chuckled to himself.
