"Father, I slay you!"
Small feet planted apart, body turned sideways in im itation of an archer's stance, Remi let fly a blunt-tipped arrow that hit the floor in front of Kysen. Kysen groaned, clutched his chest, and crumpled to the floor on his back. Remi gave a loud whoop and flew at his father. A three-year-old sandbag landed on his chest, making Kysen grunt.
"Sweetmeats, Father. Nurse won't give me sweet meats. You give them to me."
"I can't," Kysen said with his eyes closed. "I'm dead."
Remi bounced on his father's chest with each of his words. "No, you're not. I unkill you. Now the sweetmeats."
Murder in the Place of Anubis 51
From the courtyard a shrill voice with the force of a hyena's call said Remi's name, and Kysen's eyes popped open. He groaned.
"Why didn't you tell me your mother had come to visit?"
Remi scooted off his father and dived for his toy chariot. "I forgot."
"Kysen, what are you doing?"
Rolling over on his stomach, Kysen rested his fore head on the cold tile. "I'm dead. Remi killed me."
"Nonsense. Quit wallowing on the floor."
Kysen turned his head and looked at the woman in the doorway. She was still lovely in spite of her indulgence in wine and potions mixed by her magician priests. She had the largest eyes and widest lips of any woman he'd ever met, and she was dressed as usual in a complicated court robe, gold and carnelian broad collar, and long wig. Her oiled lips were twisted in distaste.
"Has it been a month already, Taweret?"
"You know it has, and Remi and I have been playing."
"You? You and Remi have been playing?" Kysen propped himself up on his forearms and stared at his former wife. Behind him Remi trundled his chariot around in a circle.
"Mother watches me shoot Nurse."
"You should include your mother in the game, Remi.: Shoot her."
Remi stopped pushing his chariot and looked around for his bow and arrow.
"I will not be shot," Taweret said. She clasped her hands together in front of her body, straightened her shoulders, and turned on her heel.
Kysen sighed and got up to follow her. She'd come to look at her tainted son and his low father, to remind herself once again of her misfortune and the wisdom of her divorce. He'd stand her presence as long as he could and then take refuge in the workshop where the physician would be examining Hormin's body. Once again he thanked the good god that he'd never really loved Taweret.
She had stretched out on a couch under a stand of palms in the courtyard. Two of her servants fanned her with ostrich-feather fans. She watched him come toward her, eyeing him with that critical wariness that never left her when he was present.
Kysen dropped down to sit by the edge of the artificial pool. He scooped water into his hand and drank, and was rewarded with a sneer at his common behavior. He considered shedding his armor and kilt to bathe in the pool, but he didn't want to lengthen Taweret's visit.
"Only peasants drink from their hands."
Kysen let a handful of water dribble down his bent knee to his ankle. "Some are bom to be peasants. Some the gods ordain to become beer brewers, goldsmiths, architects. Do you know what the gods made you, Taweret? A sufferer. That's why you married me. So you could suffer. Was it worth it, that exquisite pain and the virtue of bearing it?" Kysen smiled at his wife's glare. "Obviously not, or you wouldn't have divorced me."
"I am henemmet — "
"I know. Your mother's father's mother's mother was the spawn of a harem woman and Pharaoh. A thin strain of divinity, it seems to me. Though once I was willing to kneel before you for it. But then my knees got sore, and I decided I had enough gods and goddesses to worship, and that one living god was enough for me."
Taweret jumped off the couch, sending cushions fly Murder in the Place of Anubis 53 ing. She picked one up and threw it at Kysen on her way out.
"I was right to divorce you! You're lower than a dog's belly. All my friends say so. All of them, do you hear?" Taweret's voice rose as she got farther away, and then cut off when she neared the approach to the street. The fan bearers scurried after her.
Kysen heard a door slam, and Remi appeared, chariot dragging along behind him by a length of twine.
"She's gone," he said with a smile. "Now may I have a sweetmeat?"
Pleased with himself for having got rid of Taweret so easily, Kysen picked up a pillow and went to the couch.
"You may have two sweetmeats. Tell Nurse I gave permission." As Remi pattered away, Kysen went on. "And remember what happened the last time you lied and told her I said you could have five."
Fluffing the pillows in his hands, Kysen lay on his back and stuffed the cushion beneath his head. He stared up through the palm leaves at the sky. Soon the servants would bring food. They always knew when he was ready to dine; he'd yet to figure out how.
The physician attached to his father's staff would have Hormin's body by now. Great care would be taken to ascertain if magic had been used to cause the man's death. Kysen didn't expect to find such signs of tampering. He'd been assisting his father since he was a youth, and what Meren had told him from the beginning was true. Those who employed magic almost always helped the supernatural along by use of ordinary weapons, poisons, or other violence. He was contemplating what the physician would have to say about Hormin's body when someone began chanting over him. Something hit his ear, and Kysen yelped. He scrambled to his feet to face his son's nurse.
"I adjure thee," Mutemwia said, "by the holy names, render up the murderer who has carried away this Hormin-Khalkhak, Khalkoum, Khiam, Khar, Khroum, Zbar, Beri, Zbarkom-and by the terrible names- Balltek, Apep, Seba."
Kysen rubbed his ear and cursed the girl. She reached out with a small wooden hammer and tapped him on the other ear. Yowling, Kysen scuttled backward.
"Render up the murderer who has carried off this Hormin. As long as I strike the ear with this hammer, let the eye of the murderer be smitten and inflamed until it betrays him."
Nurse lifted the hammer again, but Kysen snatched it from her hand.
"By the phallus of Ra! Are you mad?" Kysen threw the little hammer into the pond and rounded on the girl. His ears stung, and now his head hurt as well. "Hathor gave you much beauty and no wits."
Nurse Mutemwia crossed her arms over her chest and scowled at Kysen. "It is a spell to protect you and find the evil one, lord. Do you wear your Eye of Horus amulet?"
"Beaten by my son's nurse. Curse you, Mutemwia, I don't care if your family has served Meren's for generations, you shouldn't hit my ears." Kysen rubbed the injured organs. "Did you break the skin?"
Mutemwia shook her head. A clap of her hands sum moned servants bearing food. "This servant humbly begs pardon. She only has thy welfare before her eyes."
Kysen cast a suspicious glance at the girl. When Mutemwia was humble, he grew wary.
"Nebamun is the physician and priest in this household. There's no need for you to do his work for him."
"I got the spell from him," Mutemwia said as she set a table before the couch. She dismissed the servants and began dishing out roast oryx. "I practiced the words of power while Lady Taweret was here."
"Ha!"
Mutemwia ignored Kysen and poured wine into a goblet, her expression as calm as it had been since she entered the courtyard.
"You're jealous," Kysen said.
"A humble nurse is too far below a descendant of a living god to dare to be jealous of her."
Kysen scowled at her again, sent pillows flying from the couch with a swipe of his arm, and sat down. He bit into a joint of oryx. He chewed and glared at the same time. Bowing, Mutemwia picked up a tray and vanished in the direction of the kitchen. Kysen nearly bit th? inside of his cheek, so violent was his chewing. As she vanished, his scowl turned to a grin. He'd have his own revenge tonight.