"I didn't like anything they had to say about Djehuty. He sounded a first-class swine." Thuty glared at the physician, daring him to register an objection. "Inebny agreed. As he had to go to Waset anyway, I thought to sail as far as Abu with him-and bring Imsiba along." His voice turned wry. "I thought you might need the weight of my authority."
"Where's Lieutenant Amonhotep?" Thuty asked, glancing into the governor's private reception room.
"The physician ordered him to sleep." Bak walked on down the poorly lit hall toward Djehuty's bedchamber. "I suspect he gave him a potion, thinking only a drug could keep him away4rom`what he considers his duty."
The viceroy Inebny, a slender man of medium height with a prominent nose and large ears, smiled. "The aide sounds a man conscientious to a fault."
Ineni burst through the door ahead. Looking neither right or left, he strode swiftly past, giving no indication he saw them. He reached the stairs and raced down, vanishing from sight. Bak could not imagine what Djehuty had said to his adopted son, but whatever it was, it had to have been unpleasant.
Leading the way through the door, mouth tight, chin jutting, Bak was prepared for anything-or so he believed. The bedchamber seemed a different place since last he had seen it. The soiled bedding had been taken away and replaced with a fresh sleeping pallet and sheets that smelled of sunlight and fresh air. The wilting lilies were gone, along with their heavy, sweet scent. In their place, a bowl of dried flowers gave off a more subtle and pleasing odor. The morning light was soft and delicate, filtered through thin linen hangings a servant had placed over the high windows.
"Khawet, my Khawet." Djehuty's voice was feeble, querulous. "Such a nice, agreeable child. Where is she?"
The viceroy exchanged a glance with Thuty and stepped forward. After hearing Bak's tale, he had decided that he should face the governor, presenting the news of Khawet's death and the accusation of murder.
The physician reached out a hand to halt his approach and shook his head, signaling for silence.
"Where has she gone?" Djehuty, his shoulders propped high on spotless white pillows, patted the sleeping pallet next to his thigh. "I want her here beside me."
Bak stared at the governor, startled by the change in him. He had been thin before but now was skeletal, and his pallor had a grayish cast. His eyes, black and glittering, looked as if they had sunk into his skull. He had aged twenty years. No wonder Ineni had rushed from the room, giving no word of greeting. Whether or not he loved his father, the shock must have been great.
"Where is she?" Djehuty peered around the room. His eyes seemed unable to stay in one place for long, as if he had trouble focusing. "Why is she always somewhere else when I need her at my side?"
Tut-tutting in place of words, the physician took the governor's hand in his and patted the long, bony fingers. Djehuty jerked his hand away and glared at the man, like a child offended by a touch. "Did she go out to play?" he asked, his eyes darting around, alighting on nothing. "Or did Hatnofer take her to the market? I hope she's holding her hand. Little girls should never wander around alone. It's unseemly."
Inebny sucked in his breath, startled. Thuty muttered a few words Bak could barely hear, possibly a spell to ward off the demon that had invaded the governor's heart.
Recognizing a second, more dire reason for Ineni's distress, Bak moved up behind the physician. "Is he always like this?" he whispered
"What was that?" Djehuty demanded, turning waspish. "What'd you say? Don't whisper in front of me, young man. I don't like it."
"I asked if you're well, sir."
"I'm hungry, that's all. Haven't eaten in…" Djehuty's voice tailed off and he tilted his head to peer at Bak. "Who are you? What are you doing in my bedchamber?"
Bak found himself at a loss for words. How does one respond to a grown man whose thoughts have carried him into another realm? He queried the physician with a glance, got a shrug in return. The man was no help at all.
"Well?" Djehuty snapped. "Who are you? Answer my question, young man, or I'll have my father send you to the desert mines. He's governor of this province, you know."
"I'm a servant, sir, new to your household." The less important he made himself out to be, he hoped, the sooner Djehuty would accept him. Or, better yet, forget him.
"Go away." Djehuty flicked his long fingers, signaling Bak out the door. "Go find Khawet. I need her. Now!" He glanced toward the viceroy and the commandant. "You go with him. Both, of you." His eyes began to wander. "Servants! Bah! Useless creatures, all of them." He looked down at the sheet covering him and frowned. He pulled the crumpled fabric one way and another, stretched it, patted it, trying to smooth out the wrinkles. He seemed unaware of their departure.
"How long has he been like this?" Bak asked.
"I wasn't certain when first he awakened from the poisoninduced sleep." The physician rubbed his eyes, as if wearied by a failure he could in no way have prevented. "I thought I might cure him. I hoped to, but… Well, as you can see, no potions I could give him, no spells to frighten away the demons, no prayers to the gods would reorder his wits and allow him to think as he should. In the end, I accomplished nothing."
"Will he ever again be right?" Inebny demanded.
The physician hesitated, obviously impressed by so mighty a man and desirous of saying what he wanted to hear. But the truth could not be avoided. His eyes fell away from the viceroy, skipped over the commandant, and landed on Bak, a man more easily spoken to. "I've seen this before. Long ago, when first I began to learn my profession in the house of life at the mansion of the lord Amon in Waset. A man was brought in for us all to see. One who had been thrown into a pit of scorpions by a vile trader from the land of Retenu. As punishment for dishonesty, we were told."
His eyes flitted toward Inebny and Thuty, returned to Bak. "When we saw him, ten or so years after the occurrence, he behaved like Governor Djehuty. A child yet not a child, one who confused the passage of time and his. place in it." He bit his lip. "The poison. The pain. The shock. I don't know. Maybe in the governor's case, the realization of how much his only child hated him."
He looked at the viceroy at last, his gaze level, his admission frank. "Whatever it was, his wits are addled now and likely always to remain so."
"You are your father's son," Inebny said. "His family, and therefore yours, has held the seat of power in this province for many generations."
"Sir." Ineni stood stiff and straight in front of the dais, his eyes on the viceroy. "I've never wished to be governor, nor do I now. I want only to return to the family estate in Nubt. If, that is, you deem I have the right."
Inebny, seated in Djehuty's armchair, glanced at Bak, who was standing nearby with hnsiba and Thuty. Behind them, crowding the audience hall, was a multitude of people from Abu, Swenet, and farms and villages throughout the province. These men and women from all walks of life had heard their governor was ill. Too ill to ever again occupy the seat of authority. They had come to see for themselves this lofty officer from afar, seeking reassurance that chaos would be averted, justice and order would be maintained, and life would go on as before.
During the two days that had passed since Khawet's death and Djehuty's escape from reality, the viceroy and the officers from Buhen had discussed at length all Bak had learned during his search for the slayer. Now Inebny had to decide how best to use the information, how much he should take to heart, in trying to resolve both provincial and personal affairs. Though outside his realm of responsibility, his rank placed him in charge. The decisions he made would most likely be approved by the vizier.