He winced at the sound of a screeching monkey. A baboon leaped from the roof of a fruit seller's stall and scrambled after a boy clutching a melon. The fruit seller shouted and pointed at the boy, who laughed and tossed a basket over the monkey before vanishing. A few minutes passed, during which Meren saw his charioteer take up a position near a vendor of nuts. He nodded at the man, who gave him an almost imperceptible salute. It was one of the more irritating aspects of his station never to be allowed to venture out alone without causing his men and his servants both consternation and anxiety.
A cart rattled by, loaded with tall wine jars sealed with clay. Meren watched it pass the tavern as the hulking form of Imsety levered its way out the door. Meren
Murder in the Place of Anubis 97 turned his head to the side, moving back into the shadow of an awning.
As Imsety walked down the Street of the Ibex, Meren shoved away from the awning and merged with the shoppers and merchants. After a space, the charioteer followed Meren. Imsety moved leisurely, never glancing over his shoulder or to the side, and paused at a house fronted by a low mud-brick wall forming a small court. In the court under an awning sat a man at a table laden with jewelry. Behind the man lay a stoked furnace attended by two apprentices. With wooden tongs they lifted a vessel filled with molten metal and poured it into a mold.
Meren stopped near the wall and pretended interest in the woolen cloths of a Bedouin family. Imsety swung back the gate in the wall and approached the jeweler. Looming over the stall, he produced a glittering, beaded object. Meren held up a length of red cloth and peered over it as Imsety spread his possession before the jeweler: cylindrical beads in alternating rows of gold, red jasper, and lapis lazuli-Hormin's stolen prize. The merchant picked up the necklace and peered at the fin-ials at each end, then muttered at Imsety.
Narrowing his eyes, Meren watched as the two appeared to haggle over a price. Finally the merchant scribbled a few words on a scrap of papyrus. Both he and Imsety put their names on it. Then Imsety placed the receipt in the waistband of his kilt and walked out of the courtyard. Meren turned his back as his quarry passed, retracing his steps down the Street of the Ibex.
Darting quickly into the jeweler's court, Meren grabbed the man's hand as it swept up the necklace from the table in front of him.
"What?" the man squawked. "Whatwhatwhat?"
"The necklace-what was your dealing with that young man about the necklace?"
"Only a small repair, good master. The finials need refinishing. Who are you? I like not your-"
The jeweler's mouth dropped open. His jaw hung slackly as Meren's charioteer appeared. His gaze darted from the whip and dagger at the warrior's belt to the leather and gold wristbands and neck guard.
"There is trouble, lord?"
Meren was already hurrying after the brother. He called over his shoulder, "Get the lapis and red jasper necklace and meet me at the chariot." As he left he heard the charioteer questioning the jeweler.
"Has the young man Imsety ever been to you before?"
"N-no, good master. He is a stranger."
Leaving the merchant still gaping at him, Meren hurried down the street in Imsety's wake. As he wove through the crowds he tried to spot Imsety's broad shoulders and head above the others in the street. He zigzagged around peddlers, children, and women laden with baskets; the delay at the jeweler's had given his quarry a head start. He plunged around a stack of pottery jars taller than himself, only to dodge behind them again upon seeing Imsety. He'd purchased a honey cake at a baker's stall and was devouring it whole.
Meren waited, then followed as Imsety turned a cor ner into one of the narrow side streets that intersected the main road. He approached the corner warily; beyond it the street, little more than an alley, zigged and zagged into darkness. Awnings stretched from rooftop to rooftop on many such pathways to protect travelers from the sun.
He edged around the corner, keeping close to the 'wall. The darkness caused his sight to blur for a mo Murder in the Place of Anubis 99 ment before he could make out a stretch of emptiness. The buildings on either side crowded close, leaving room for no more than two people to walk abreast, and then only shoulder to shoulder. The lane turned sharply to the right about thirty paces from the corner. Imsety had already disappeared.
Meren slipped into the shadows and hurried to the next corner. Sliding around it, he found another short stretch ending in a turn to the left. He would have to increase his pace if he wasn't to lose Hormin's son in this maze. He paused briefly at the next corner, then plunged down the lane. By now the buildings were so close, the awnings so thick that it was hard to see. He neared the next turn, slowed.
Something grabbed him as he passed a doorway. A pair of sweaty hands fastened on his throat and squeezed. Meren felt blood rash to his head, surge, and nearly burst from his eyes. He was lifted off his feet as he clawed at the hands on his throat, twisting and writhing to no avail. Meren raised his arms, planting one fist against another. His strength ebbing, he rammed his elbow into the chest of the man behind him.
The hold on his throat loosened slightly. He had only moments before it tightened again for the last time. Going limp, Meren heard a grunt of satisfaction. His feet touched the ground as his attacker began to release him. He quickly made fists. Jabbing backward with his thumbs, he gouged at the man's eyes. He heard a yelp, and suddenly he was free.
Whirling around, Meren kicked a massive, bare stom ach. The attacker grunted, buckled, and sank to his knees. He was about to punch the man when he slumped to the ground. Whipping around, Meren glanced about the darkened passage for further danger.
Perceiving no one else, Meren straightened from his crouch. He brushed a hand through his hair and smoothed the folds of his kilt. The years as a charioteer and warrior still came to his aid. This wasn't the first time his training had saved him from danger encountered in his duties to Pharaoh.
He drew a dagger that hung from the belt at his waist. Leaning against a wall, he contemplated the groaning Imsety. The fool had risked death by attacking a nobleman and would be punished-but he would be questioned first. As he watched the man on the ground, his charioteer burst into the passage and slid to a halt. He glanced from Meren to his victim, snorted contemptuously, and went silent. Imsety rolled onto his back, then pushed himself to a sitting position and rubbed his eyes. He opened them. His teary gaze found Meren, and for once he found more than three words to say.
"My lord Meren! Merciful Amun, I am destroyed." Imsety struggled to his knees and held out a beseeching hand to Meren. "I thought you were a thief. I beg you, lord, please believe me."
Meren regarded Imsety without expression, allowing the young man to babble. Imsety was squinting at him, his eyes red. His massive shoulders hunched, and he groaned as Meren lounged silently against the wall.
"I am dead," Imsety said.
He crouched in the street before Meren. His head was bowed nearly to the ground in supplication. Meren heard him draw in a breath as he lifted his head to glance at the charioteer and saw the necklace bunched in the fist of the warrior. His features smoothed into blankness.
"Your clattering tongue has stilled," Meren said softly. "No matter. It will flap freely enough before you die."
Imsety closed his eyes briefly. Meren twitched his dagger at Hormin's son, causing him to lurch to his feet.
"Come," Meren said. "It seems I'll sit in judgment of you before you go to the gods for theirs."
He had no trouble in shepherding the dispirited Imsety back to his chariot and to his headquarters. He had his guards throw Hormin's son into a holding room in the small barracks behind his office. Imsety remained there, nursing his fear, while Meren bathed and changed.