The Burden of Responsibility

Heri-renpet III, third leap day in Shemu, season of the harvest

The next morning Penu brought him a stack of folded linen. “The master sends you these clothes as part of your payment.” He managed to sound friendly and condescending at the same time as if Nakhtmin were a beggar receiving the leftovers of a luxurious meal.

Still, Nakhtmin was far too happy he didn’t have to disgrace himself by wearing shabby clothes in front of noble citizens to get angry with the guy. New sandals with straps adorned by pearls were among the donations as well. Dressed up like this, he eagerly followed the servant to the garden, where the family had already settled under an awning to have breakfast. Their faces still showed grief. Mutnofret briefly knitted her eyebrows when she spotted him. The chair beside her wasn’t occupied.

“Ah, there’s my daughter’s new personal doctor. I hope you found everything to your satisfaction?”

“I slept very well under your roof, thanks.” Nakhtmin interpreted a wave of Ameny’s hand as an invitation to sit beside Mutnofret, so he grabbed the backrest.

In a defensive move, the young woman pushed the chair up to the table. “My sister used to sit here.”

Nakhtmin cursed himself. He should have asked if he might take the seat. How should he watch out for Mutnofret if he alienated her? Maybe they should take her into his confidence so she’d support him. No, girls liked to gossip and blab secrets. The more people knew about Hori’s nighttime excursion across the Nile, the greater the danger for his friend. Too much was at stake. “Pardon me, I wasn’t thinking,” he offered. At a loss, he glanced around.

With the hint of a sneer on his face, Penu pointed to a stool standing aside. Nakhtmin fetched it and finally settled between noble Isis and one of her sons. They certainly weren’t off to a good start. He felt uneasy. The silence at the table weighed him down. Not even the boys made any noise. Under different circumstances, he’d have cherished the delicious food, but now he had trouble swallowing. Finally his host rose and asked Nakhtmin to follow him to his study.

“I took the liberty of excusing you at the House of Life,” Ameny said for openers.

“Oh, good.” With events unfolding so fast, he’d almost forgotten his duties as doctor.

“I’ve mulled over things some more,” the priest continued.

Nakhtmin immediately worried the grieving father wanted to abandon their plan. Maybe he had qualms about covering Hori’s breach of the rules? His heart pounded.

“I’m afraid we won’t be able to hide the nature of your guardianship and mission from Mutnofret. My daughter is an intelligent young woman and will soon figure out that you aren’t protecting her from the rays of the god Ra.”

“But…sir, please forgive me, but I’d rather not take the risk. Too big is the danger of her letting something slip. Hori would have to face the consequences.”

The corners of Ameny’s mouth twitched in anger. “My daughter isn’t a gossip. But I do understand your concerns. A connection to young Hori is a threat to anyone, and I wouldn’t want to put Mutnofret at additional risk. When we tell her Hetepet didn’t die of natural causes, I think we can omit his role. She might even be able to assist you in your investigation if she knew.”

Nakhtmin sighed. “All right.”

Ameny stuck his head out the door and called, “Penu! Please fetch Mutnofret.”

A short time later the servant returned alone. Nakhtmin believed he saw mute satisfaction on the fellow’s face. “Noble Mutnofret went to the temple of Isis to make a sacrifice for her sister.”

She’d escaped him. Nakhtmin had no doubt she’d already planned to give them the slip at breakfast. Her father was probably right: as long as she saw him as unwanted company, only coming along to boss her around, she’d make his task more difficult.

Ameny swore through clenched teeth. “Penu, why didn’t you stop her? Didn’t I make myself understood, yesterday? I do not want my daughter to leave the house without physician Nakhtmin accompanying her. Your disobedience has earned you five cane strokes.”

The priest’s glare made Nakhtmin appreciate it wasn’t directed at him.

Penu’s lanky figure seemed to shrink even more. “Yes, my lord, I’m very sorry.” Despite his demure pose, his eyes shot daggers at Nakhtmin.

“If something befalls my daughter, you’ll be even sorrier. I can promise you that much. Away with you!” As soon as the door closed behind the servant, the priest released a groan of agony. “Please try to catch up with Mutnofret. I can’t bear to lose her as well.”

With a curt nod, Nakhtmin set out to search for her.

Dear gods, please let me find her at the temple of Isis. A horrible fear sneaked up on him. What if Mutnofret told Penu the wrong destination to send him onto the wrong track? Ameny sure had been right. She needed to know or else he’d be spending his time chasing her instead of the killer. Though he didn’t believe her in actual danger right now, he couldn’t be sure. What motivation drove the murderer? According to Hori, he’d left no other marks on his victims’ bodies. No fight, so the villain must have gotten close enough for a surprise attack, which meant they must have known and trusted him to let him approach.

The temple of the goddess lay right before him. He strode through the large pylon into the first courtyard. Nearby, Mutnofret passed through the gate, behind which the believers’ sacrifices were accepted, and stepped into the blinding sunshine.

It took a moment before she noticed him standing there, then her eyes narrowed. “You’ve sniffed me out then,” she said in a mocking tone with a crooked smile and stepped beside him.

“It wasn’t that difficult since you left a few clues. I think we’d both benefit if I didn’t have to hunt you down all day long.”

The notion made her smile. “Is father very upset because I simply left?”

“Noble lady, he isn’t angry! He is worried about you. I’m sure you understand that. Besides, he wanted to tell you something important, so you should return with me.”

“All right. Under one condition.”

Nakhtmin sighed in resignation. “Which is?”

“Never call me noble lady again.”

He suppressed a smile. “My apologies. How could I possibly do something so absurd?”

“Quite cheeky!” Her eyes sparkled. The next moment, her face turned serious. “Are you the Nakhtmin Hetepet sometimes told me about?”

“How many Nakhtmins do you know? Yes, I knew your sister and liked to joke with her. She was endearing. I liked her. Your loss really pains me.”

“Thank you. We all miss her so much. If Hetepet liked you, you must be a nice guy. She rarely misjudged people. Still, I find it rather unpleasant to be under constant watch.”

“I totally understand and don’t want to be a pain in your neck. Maybe you can simply forget my presence and regard me as a…hm…”

“As a hand fan?” she suggested.

He laughed. “Something like that. A convenient thing to have around.”

They’d reached the second Amun prophet’s estate, and Mutnofret sighed. “I better collect my earful right away and get it over with.”

They found Ameny in the garden. Deep in thought, he gazed at the flowerbeds. When he noticed their arrival, he seemed relieved at first, then made a stern face. “Mutnofret, your behavior disappoints me.”

“Yes, Father. In the future, I will respect your wishes.”

“Girl, you have no idea in what danger you are. Has Nakhtmin told you already?”

Nakhtmin shook his head.

“Told me what? What danger?”

Ameny cast a glance around to spot possible eavesdroppers, then lowered his voice. “Your sister didn’t die of a heat stroke. She was murdered.”

Mutnofret paled and staggered. Nakhtmin jumped to her side and steadied her.

“What are you saying, Father?”

“Yes, it’s true,” Nakhtmin confirmed. “Did you know Merit-Neith, who also died recently? She fell prey to the same killer. Maybe he killed before, maybe he’ll kill again.”

“You could be in great danger, my darling.”

Mutnofret looked from one to the other. “How do you know, Father, and what’s Nakhtmin got to do with all this? Did he tell you? He could have made it all up to torture you.” Her voice had grown shriller and shriller.

Nakhtmin feared someone might hear her. He dropped all manners and pulled Mutnofret aside. “I can’t tell you how I got the information. Be assured, though, it’s true. I’d never want to torture any of you or make up a bogus allegation to worm my way into your father’s household.”

“That’s right,” Ameny barged in. “I came up with the idea to hire Nakhtmin as your guardian. He didn’t hint at anything of the kind. Now you may better understand my anxiety. A murderer is on the loose and kills young women from noble families. At the same time, I can’t neglect my duties as prophet of Amun. Once the first phase of mourning is over, I’ll have to serve at the temple again. Nakhtmin, as your personal physician, can accompany you everywhere, keep his eyes open and ask questions.”

Mutnofret looked flabbergasted. Then she pushed out her lower lip. “Why don’t you leave the search for the killer to the Medjay? It’s their job. Why didn’t you inform the vizier? Why do you want this little doctor to investigate?”

At the mention of the vizier Nakhtmin flinched. The last thing they needed was Mutnofret walking into that man’s house and revealing what they knew! To his relief Ameny scolded her himself.

“Enough! I have good reasons for my decision. You only need to know that I trust Nakhtmin. The murderer, though, must be a man with free access to the palace. Or do you think a stranger could have approached your sister—on the premises of the Amun temple?”

The girl didn’t give up yet. “What if the killer is a woman?” She scoffed at the puzzled face of her father.

What a sharp tongue, Nakhtmin thought. At the same time he had to admire her cleverness. Neither Hori or Ameny nor he had considered this possibility. Yes, it was possible. “Smart reasoning,” he said. “Let’s try to find out together. Soon you’ll be visiting friends again and we can both keep our ears and eyes open. As long as I accompany you wherever you go, you’ll hopefully be safe. The killer uses a thin, pointy instrument to pierce his victims’ hearts. To do so, he must have gotten very close to Merit-Neith and Hetepet.”

“Merit-Neith,” she murmured. “Dear gods, she was supposed to marry soon! And my sweet little sister—who would do something like that?”

Nakhtmin guessed Mutnofret had still been battling the bitter truth and was now slowly accepting it. She sagged, seemed feeble. Ameny must also have realized that his head-strong daughter had given up all resistance, since he retreated to his study. Silent, Mutnofret ambled down the garden path, likely processing their revelations. Nakhtmin followed her but kept his distance, assuming she’d need some time alone.

In the afternoon the family received mourners like the day before. Nakhtmin kept to the background and tried to become as invisible as possible, while he observed the guests’ behavior. The murderer might show up to feign sympathy and to avoid raising questions by his absence. If he was among the gathered mourners, his behavior might give him away.

Mutnofret would be safe among her family. In this environment, he didn’t have to worry about her and could focus his attention on the guests. Whoever stabbed Hetepet, he must have been alone with her or else he couldn’t have escaped without anyone noticing. In that case, the girl’s death would have been examined more closely. The same applied to Merit-Neith. Nakhtmin really appreciated Mutnofret’s comment the killer could be a woman. Otherwise he’d probably have only concentrated on men and possibly overlooked something crucial. However, none of those present acted strangely or seemed nervous. Well, finding a lead on the very first day would have been too much to ask for.

He thought of Hori. The prisoner of the weryt must fare much worse than him since he could only wait. Nakhtmin knew how impetuous his friend was and commiserated with him wholeheartedly. This very night, he’d cross the river and leave a message for him, he decided.

After the evening meal he briefed Ameny about his plans in the isolation of the priest’s study.

“Help yourself to my writing utensils to compose a message to Hori. Our garden borders the river. At the small pier you’ll find my boat for the duck hunt. You know how to handle it? Great. Feel free to use it any time, though I’d prefer if you told me in advance where you’re going. If the killer realizes someone’s on his scent, you might be in danger as well.”

Touched and comforted, Nakhtmin realized how much he’d missed parental care for a long time now. These concerns showed the Amun priest wasn’t indifferent to his fate. With quick strokes he laid out recent events on a piece of papyrus and remembered to tell Hori about Mutnofret’s remark they might be after a murderess. Surely his friend would understand they had to take the young woman into their confidence. So as not to worry him too much, he emphasized several time that she didn’t know anything about him. Finishing his report, he became aware how much more they had achieved than either of them could have imagined when they decided to seek an ally in Hetepet’s father. He gently dried the ink with sand and rolled up the papyrus.

Ameny handed him a clay tube for waterproof storage. “You can keep the container since you’ll certainly need it again.”

Nakhtmin nodded and sneaked off into the darkness. He pulled one of the torches from the lawn to light his way to the pier, where he shoved it into the ground. Its shine should help him find his way back.

With trembling knees, he climbed into the small watercraft, which rocked fiercely until he found the right position. Just days before the expected Nile floods, the fairly narrow river flowed slowly. Paddling away, he quickly reached the other side of the river without drifting too far downstream. He dragged the lightweight boat through the mud up the riverbank until sand crunched under his feet. What had Hori said? A copse downstream of the weryt. He found it and measured ten steps, walking away from the river.

A cloud moved over the moon, and in the dark, he hit his foot on something hard. Suppressing a curse, he dragged in a sharp breath and waited until no more dots danced before his eyes. He’d injured his big toe. Blood turned his sandal slippery. Feeling around with his hands, he found a rock, likely the marker. He rolled the boulder aside and started digging. With the sand so loose, he assumed this spot was above the high-water level. Excellent, no need to worry about their cranny getting flooded. Shortly after, he held a long, narrow shard of clay in his hands. A message from Hori. He let the tube with his report slide into the hole and filled it with sand. Rolling the rock back in position, he realized Hori wouldn’t be able to tell if there was a message waiting for him. Oh well, a conspicuous sign could be seen by anyone during the day, and Hori was only able to leave the weryt at night anyway. Now the silvery rays of the moon clearly showed him his way back, and he realized how much he’d stand out if someone walked past. Fortunately, the western side of the river was pretty much deserted even during the day. At night, nobody would dare enter the realm of the dead—for fear of ghosts. A sudden gust of wind rustled the bulrush at the waterfront. Nakhtmin cringed in horror. What if a restless soul took possession of him? No longer did he mind his injured foot but hurried to the boat as if something chased him. The paddle couldn’t dip into the muddy water fast enough. To his relief, the torch was still burning. Now he had to paddle against the current to reach the priest’s estate. After he’d tied up the craft at the pier, he still felt the breath of death on his neck.

Crossing the garden, he saw light in Ameny’s study. Likely the prophet was eager to hear how his excursion went and whether Hori had sent news. He knocked on the wattle-covered door to the garden and was let in.

“Well?” Ameny asked.

“Here’s the message.” He showed Ameny the shard. In the light of the oil lamp, the smeared symbols were hard to decipher. Hori had used less tallow this time. “Oh, and I left the clay tube behind for him so he can carry the papyrus safely back home. If he uses up too much grease, people might ask questions. I told you he needs to dive to leave the weryt.”

“Of course, I can give you a second tube. Now, come on, read aloud what he wrote!”

“ A friend to a friend, I salute you.”

“Ah, good, he isn’t using names,” the priest interrupted. “That way, if anyone finds it by accident, neither sender nor recipient can be identified. But go ahead.”

“ Nothing new here. I hope you’ve seen him, whom we talked about, and managed to enlist his help. Since nobody came today to interrogate me, I assume my secret is still safe. Please reply soon. Not knowing what’s happening is killing me.” Nakhtmin lowered the shard. “We should send him some papyrus as well. Not many words fit on these shards.”

Ameny nodded. “Help yourself to my supplies.”

“Well, we didn’t learn anything new, but at least we know the exchange works.” Then Nakhtmin remembered hitting his toe on the rock and glanced down.

Ameny followed his gaze and drew in a sharp breath. “I’m glad I’ve got a doctor in the house.”

Nakhtmin almost burst out laughing.

In the solitude of his room, he bandaged the foot, then sank into dreamless slumber.