Shared Secret

Heri-renpet II, second leap day in Shemu, season of the harvest

Time stretched for Nakhtmin at the House of Life. Against his habit, he found himself rushing his treatment of the ailing. When he thought of what he had to do later, anxiety made him fidget. Since he didn’t know the second prophet very well, he could only hope he was right about him. The man was responsible for the administrative side of the House of Life within the Amun temple compound, but he didn’t really get involved in the training or work of doctors. Come to think of it, he’d based his opinion of the prophet mostly on what his youngest daughter had said about him. That’s how he knew Ameny had tenderly loved Hetepet.

Nakhtmin had only seen the priest once after her body was found. Already wearing the yellow clothes of mourning and a stony expression, he’d walked along the aisles, his face smeared with dust and tears. Nakhtmin calculated. The three days of private mourning, when household members grieved for the deceased in the seclusion of their home, had passed. During the next ten days friends and acquaintances were actually expected to visit and offer condolences. His showing up at Ameny’s house wouldn’t seem strange at all, even if he didn’t belong to the noble circle around the higher priests of Amun.

Finally, he sent his last patient of the day home with a fresh bandage and doused himself with water in the washroom. Then he headed home. Among his few possessions was a shendyt of fine linen, which he’d received from one of the few merchants requiring his medical services. He donned the garment and put on the necklace with the Horus-eye amulet before he set out for Ameny’s estate, heart pounding.

The howling of mourning women greeted him at the gate of the house. A servant escorted him to the large hall, where the host, his wife and their children welcomed guests. In addition to Nakhtmin there were five other people present: a third prophet of Ra, two officials—judging by their wigs—and two women, likely friends of Hetepet’s mother. Everyone had already dipped their hands in the bowl of ashes and smeared their faces and hair. Nakhtmin followed suit and appreciated that nobody seemed to expect him to tear apart his shendyt as a sign of his grief. He’d certainly have mourned the loss of his best garment.

Ameny raised his eyebrows in surprise when he noticed Nakhtmin, then a wistful smile brightened his features. Nakhtmin stepped up to him and murmured a few words of condolence, which he repeated to Ameny’s wife and Hetepet’s siblings: two young boys, obviously twins, and a girl only slightly older than Hetepet. She resembled her sister very much.

She lifted her gaze. “I’m Mutnofret. You knew my sister…doctor?”

“My name is Nakhtmin, doctor at the House of Life. I often met your sister when she picked up your father at the temple.”

“Oh…” Her harmonious features darkened. She swallowed hard, and the corners of her mouth quivered. “She loved walking home with him.” Tears rolled down her cheeks and left light trails in the ash.

Nakhtmin took her hand and squeezed. “I liked her a lot. You must miss her.”

Mutnofret nodded and averted her face.

Nakhtmin felt like an intruder in such pain. What was he doing here? Then he remembered. He looked around for Ameny and found him standing at a pillar, his shoulders drooping. Nobody kept him company. Although Nakhtmin despised himself for tearing the prophet from his silent grief, he ambled over to him. “Noble Ameny…”

The priest flinched, then recognized him and grimaced in annoyance. Nakhtmin couldn’t treat the man’s feelings with misguided respect. After all, he was acting in the prophet’s interest. “I hate having to disturb you, but I need to tell you something very important,” he murmured.

“Young man, this really isn’t a good time. Please come back another day. Or even better, talk to one of my deputies.” His lips tightened to a thin, hard line, and he turned to walk off.

Nakhtmin noticed the gaze of Ameny’s wife resting on him and realized he was drawing unwanted attention. Still, he dared to grab the priest’s shoulder and hold him back. “Noble lord, I have evidence that your daughter was murdered.” He only whispered the sentence but a thunderclap couldn’t have struck his host harder.

Ameny spun around. “What are you saying? Explain!”

“Not here. I can only tell you what I know in confidence. If you can’t get away right now for a private talk, I’ll be happy to wait until you’ve bid farewell to your guests. Still, what I know is certainly of utmost interest for you.”

Ameny’s brows knitted, while he seemed to mull over the suggestion. “Fine,” he said in a low voice. “My servant will take you to my study. Wait there.” He exchanged a few words with the attendant who’d escorted him to the hall earlier.

Nakhtmin said good-bye to the family and followed the man out of the hall and down a gloomy corridor. After a few steps, the servant opened a portal and shoved him into a room. He could just discern his kidnapper’s disapproving expression before the door closed.

Again time seemed to stand still as Nakhtmin waited. Of course, Ameny had to fulfill his duties as host. What a heavy burden the rituals must turn into for the bereft! He couldn’t imagine how he might feel as the mourning father. To occupy himself, he studied the furnishings of the room. On the desk made of black, shiny ebony lay a writing palette with a rolled-up papyrus next to it. More scrolls peaked from an open chest in the corner. It looked like Ameny had quickly rifled through it in search of something but didn’t have the time to replace the other documents.

With the tips of his fingers, Nakhtmin unrolled the scroll on the table far enough to skim the beginning. It was the dirge of goddess Isis for her beloved husband Osiris. He didn’t dare read on or pass time with one of the other texts. Ameny wouldn’t be happy to find him sifting through his belongings. Some of the scrolls might even be secret—reserved for the eyes of the highest priests of Amun. So instead he considered how to present his knowledge to Ameny. How should he begin? He couldn’t be so blunt again, had to gently, respectfully reveal the source of his knowledge, proceed with care… Easier thought than done. He flopped onto cushions piled into a divan in one corner.

At long last, Ameny entered the room. His face looked even more emaciated than before, and Nakhtmin realized how much more burden he was going to pile onto the man’s shoulders. Without a word, the priest settled in front of him, crossed his legs and gazed at him intently, accusation and challenge in his eyes.

“My lord, I…” Nakhtmin’s voice faded. No, it wouldn’t work if he apologized again. Ameny might throw him out of the house. He pulled himself together. “I have to tell you something of grave importance. Under…special circumstances, I received evidence that your daughter Hetepet fell victim to a heinous murderer. A murderer who also killed noble Merit-Neith.”

Ameny wheezed. Eyes closed, hands clenched into fists, he trembled with suppressed tension. Nakhtmin feared a violent outburst.

After a while his host’s breathing returned to normal. Regaining control, he asked, “Are you aware of what you’re telling me?”

“Yes, sir, I am. It is a horrible allegation. Therefore, please tell me what you know about the cause of your daughter’s death.” Nakhtmin felt more confident now they’d swapped roles. Ameny was no longer his strict examiner. Instead, Nakhtmin asked the questions.

Ameny slumped. “I found her—my sweet little girl.” He covered his face with both hands. His shoulders shook. He needed some time to compose himself. “I found her in the arcade of the forecourt to the Amun temple. She lay there as if asleep, except her mouth hung open. Like she was astonished. Surprised by death…” The corners of his mouth pulled down in pain.

Nakhtmin didn’t want to see him burst into tears, so he tried for a factual tone. “What did you do when you found her?”

“I lifted her, thinking… I thought I could… I carried her to the doctors at the House of Life, to Imhotepankh, the head of doctors. He…” Now tears did well up in his eyes and roll down the Amun priest’s cheeks.

Nakhtmin wished he could spare the man this pain, but finding the killer might bring him some relief. “Imhotepankh could only assert Hetepet’s death?” he prompted.

Ameny nodded.

“Did the venerable head of doctors give you his opinion on the cause of death?”

“He spoke of the demons of the heat. My little girl died from too much sun, he thought, like it happens to those who are exposed to the rays of the sun god for too long. But how could that be when I found her in the shade? You!” He pointed an accusing finger at Nakhtmin. “You spoke of evidence. Show me, and I’ll go to the pharaoh right away. I won’t rest until the villain is arrested and sentenced.” Ameny jumped to his feet and towered over Nakhtmin in a threatening pose.

“Noble lord, unfortunately I can’t show you the evidence. Somebody confided in me that he found a wound on Hetepet’s body, which led to her death. Merit-Neith’s body had shown the very same injury.”

“Who? Who saw the wound? And how could he find what Imhotepankh overlooked? Speak up, man, who is the villain? Whoever knows such things must be the murderer of my little girl!”

Ameny grabbed Nakhtmin’s shoulders and shook him dizzy.

“Hold on!” he yelped.

Ameny immediately let go and sank back onto the mat. He groaned. “Forgive me, but in the name of the gods, tell me all you know.”

“Nobody examined Hetepet’s body? Nobody noticed a wound? A small one, no bigger than a mosquito bite. Likely it wouldn’t have bled much either.” Nakhtmin still shied from revealing his source of information. First he needed to make sure the powerful priest would keep their secret.

Ameny’s brow furrowed. “Why? Do you think…? Who? Who could have found the wound you’re talking about?”

Nakhtmin sighed. “Listen, I turned to you because I think I can trust you in this matter. Nevertheless, I need you to promise, no, I need your holy oath that you’ll keep secret what I’m going to tell you. My life depends on it—and somebody else’s. Even for you it might be dangerous. Are you willing to take this risk to bring Maat back into balance?” In the ensuing silence he believed he could hear his heart beat. Opposing emotions waged a battle on the prophet’s face. Had he said too much already?

“I swear by Amun, the highest of gods, and by Maat, nothing you reveal to me will pass my lips except with your permission. Are you content with this oath?”

Relieved, Nakhtmin nodded. “Do you remember Hori, doctor in the House of Life? You might know—”

Ameny’s scream interrupted him. “Dear gods! Are you going to tell me this convicted murderer escaped his punishment and roams the world of the living? Is he the man who killed Hetepet?”

“No. Please. Listen. Let me tell you what really happened.” Obviously the truth about Neferib’s death never spread beyond the king’s court, and Nebit certainly would have made sure it stayed that way. Under the circumstances, Ameny’s suspicion shouldn’t surprise him. In much detail, Nakhtmin told him about the tragic events of the night Nebit’s son died. He even confessed his temptation to accept the vizier’s bribe.

When the prophet learned of Hotep’s testimony and how the boy renounced his lie in the end, Ameny’s jaw dropped. “Despite all this, Hori was sentenced by the Great Kenbet? It shouldn’t have been anything but an acquittal!”

“I don’t understand this myself, but let me continue.” The account of their secret meeting captivated the priest. He let Nakhtmin finish without interrupting again. Only Ameny’s contorting features gave away his indignation.

“You see, Hori discovered something crucial, something unknown until now. The goddess Maat herself appeared to show him which route to take. He could only trust me with his knowledge. I, however…” Nakhtmin let his shoulders sag. “I’m a man without power and influence. Nebit made sure I couldn’t get any patients from noble families at the House of Life. Thus, their doors remain locked to me. That’s why I came to you, in hopes of—”

“You did well! A murderer roams the capital. Who knows how many girls have already fallen prey to him. Who knows how many more will—if we don’t stop him. First thing tomorrow, I’ll go to the pharaoh and…”

Nakhtmin jumped to his feet. “Not the pharaoh! You have no idea in what danger you’ll place us all. No, you of all people would know. What awaits those who betray the secrets of the weryt?”

The older man groaned. “Right, I forgot for a moment. What can we do? My duties at the temple will hardly allow me to make inquiries.”

Nakhtmin saw his own helplessness reflected in Ameny’s eyes. He sighed. “And I don’t belong to the noble society, where questions need asking. I’m convinced the killer is to be found there. Merit-Neith was attacked in her parents’ garden. Nobody can easily get in there.”

“To think in what danger Mutnofret might also… Of course! That’s the solution. Young man, I’ll hire you as personal physician of my daughter Mutnofret. You’ll move into a chamber of my estate and make yourself available day and night.”

Nakhtmin’s face grew hot. Spend the nights in the company of the beautiful young woman?

“Mostly during the day, I guess,” the concerned father added quickly. He must have read his thoughts. “Since everyone but us believes Hetepet died of a mysterious disease, it’s only natural that I’m worried about her sister. Mutnofret freely enters the homes of her friends. Noble families often invite her to banquets. You can accompany her without raising questions. Thus you’ll get access to the estates of the high and mighty—with time and occasion to investigate.” For the first time since Nakhtmin entered the house in mourning, a gentle smile conquered Ameny’s face. “I thank you for mustering the courage to come here and confide in me. I will never forget.”

Embarrassed, Nakhtmin lowered his gaze. “I have to thank you, my lord, for hearing me out and giving me your word although I’m the lowliest of doctors. I’ll be honored to accompany noble Mutnofret. If necessary, I’ll protect her with my life.”

The priest rose and grabbed his hand to pull him up from the cushions. Together they went to the private quarters, where Ameny officially introduced him to his family again and announced his plan to hire Nakhtmin as Mutnofret’s personal physician.

His wife, noble Isis, appeared relieved and moved by her husband’s parental concern. Both young sons cast shy glances at Nakhtmin and hid behind their mother’s flap. Mutnofret’s face distorted slightly, but she was too well-behaved to show her resentment in front of a guest.

For her I’m a supervisor limiting her freedom and reporting to her father. Nakhtmin winked at her to show his understanding.

Ameny instructed the attendant, and soon after, Nakhtmin was led to a spacious guest room.

“Here you shall reside. Thus decided my lord.”

“Thank you… What’s your name?”

“Penu.”

Nakhtmin suppressed a grin. Penu meant mouse and the name fit the man, with his protruding teeth. “Thanks, Penu. I’ll fetch my things from my house and should be back soon.”

“As you wish.”

The servant’s disparaging gaze scrutinized Nakhtmin’s dark skin and the quality of his clothes. Obviously, he wasn’t deemed noble enough to be welcomed to his master’s house, but of course he couldn’t openly disregard a direct order. Nakhtmin sighed inaudibly. His mission wouldn’t be easy, though certainly easier than before.

With a spring in his steps, he set out for the paupers’ quarter. His few belongings packed, he returned to the Amun priest’s estate. Striding through the gate once more, he wanted to praise his luck. If only the cause weren’t so sad.