Death Comes as the End

  Hori said mildly:

  ‘It will cause unfavourable comment–and it will not be accepted as a right action–but legally it is in his power. He can make a deed of settlement in any way he wishes.’

  ‘She has bewitched him–that black, jeering serpent has put a spell upon him!’

  Yahmose murmured as though dumbfounded:

  ‘It is unbelievable–it cannot be true.’

  ‘My father is mad–mad!’ cried Ipy. ‘He turns even against me at this woman’s bidding!’

  Hori said gravely:

  ‘Imhotep will return shortly–that he says. By then his anger may have abated; he may not really mean to do as he says.’

  There was a short, unpleasant laugh. It was Satipy who had laughed. She stood looking at them from the doorway into the women’s quarters.

  ‘So that is what we are to do, is it, most excellent Hori? Wait and see!’

  Yahmose said slowly:

  ‘What else can we do?’

  ‘What else?’ Satipy’s voice rose. She screamed out:

  ‘What have you got in your veins, all of you? Milk? Yahmose, I know, is not a man! But you, Sobek–have you no remedy for these ills? A knife in the heart and the girl could do us no more harm.’

  ‘Satipy,’ cried Yahmose. ‘My father would never forgive us!’

  ‘So you say. But I tell you a dead concubine is not the same as a live concubine! Once she was dead, his heart would return to his sons and their children. And besides, how should he know how she died? We could say a scorpion stung her! We are together in this, are we not?’

  Yahmose said slowly:

  ‘My father would know. Henet would tell him.’

  Satipy gave a hysterical laugh.

  ‘Most prudent Yahmose! Most gentle, cautious Yahmose! It is you who should look after the children and do woman’s work in the back of the house. Sakhmet help me! Married to a man who is not a man. And you, Sobek, for all your bluster, what courage have you, what determination? I swear by Ra, I am a better man than either of you.’

  She swung round and went out.

  Kait, who had been standing behind her, came a step forward.

  She said, her voice deep and shaken:

  ‘It is true what Satipy says! She is a better man than any of you. Yahmose, Sobek, Ipy–will you all sit here doing nothing? What of our children, Sobek? Cast out to starve! Very well, if you will do nothing, I will. You are none of you men!’

  As she in turn went out, Sobek sprang to his feet.

  ‘By the Nine Gods of the Ennead, Kait is right! There is a man’s work to be done–and we sit here talking and shaking our heads.’

  He strode towards the door. Hori called after him:

  ‘Sobek, Sobek, where are you going? What are you going to do?’

  Sobek, handsome and fierce, shouted from the doorway:

  ‘I shall do something–that is clear. And what I do I shall enjoy doing!’

  III

  Renisenb came out on to the porch and stood there for a moment, shielding her eyes against the sudden glare.

  She felt sick and shaken and full of a nameless fear. She said to herself, repeating the words over and over again mechanically:

  ‘I must warn Nofret…I must warn her…’

  Behind her, in the house, she could hear men’s voices, those of Hori and Yahmose blending into each other, and above them, shrill and clear, the boyish tones of Ipy.

  ‘Satipy and Kait are right. There are no men in this family! But I am a man. Yes, I am a man in heart if not in years. Nofret has jeered at me, laughed at me; treated me as a child. I will show her that I am not a child. I am not afraid of my father’s anger. I know my father. He is bewitched–the woman has put a spell on him. If she were destroyed his heart would come back to me–to me! I am the son he loves best. You all treat me as a child–but you shall see. Yes, you shall see!’

  Rushing out of the house he collided with Renisenb and almost knocked her down. She clutched at his sleeve.

  ‘Ipy, Ipy, where are you going?’

  ‘To find Nofret. She shall see whether she can laugh at me!’

  ‘Wait a little. You must calm down. We must none of us do anything rash.’

  ‘Rash?’ The boy laughed scornfully. ‘You are like Yahmose. Prudence! Caution! Nothing must be done in a hurry! Yahmose is an old woman. And Sobek is all words and boasting. Let go of me, Renisenb.’

  He twitched the linen of his sleeve from her grasp.

  ‘Nofret, where is Nofret?’

  Henet, who had just come bustling out from the house, murmured:

  ‘Oh dear, this is a bad business–a very bad business. What will become of us all? What would my dear mistress say?’

  ‘Where is Nofret, Henet?’

  Renisenb cried: ‘Don’t tell him,’ but Henet was already answering:

  ‘She went out the back way. Down towards the flax fields.’

  Ipy rushed back through the house and Renisenb said reproachfully: ‘You should not have told him, Henet.’

  ‘You don’t trust old Henet. You never have confidence in me.’ The whine in her voice became more pronounced. ‘But poor old Henet knows what she is doing. The boy needs time to cool off. He won’t find Nofret by the flax fields.’ She grinned. ‘Nofret is here–in the pavilion–with Kameni.’

  She nodded her head across the courtyard.

  And she added with what seemed rather disproportionate stress:

  ‘With Kameni…’

  But Renisenb had already started to cross the courtyard.

  Teti, dragging her wooden lion, came running from the lake to her mother and Renisenb caught her up in her arms. She knew, as she held the child to her, the force that was driving Satipy and Kait. These women were fighting for their children.

  Teti gave a little fretful cry.

  ‘Not so tight, mother, not so tight. You are hurting me.’

  Renisenb put the child down. She went slowly across the courtyard. On the far side of the pavilion Nofret and Kameni were standing together. They turned as Renisenb approached.

  Renisenb spoke quickly and breathlessly.

  ‘Nofret, I have come to warn you. You must be careful. You must guard yourself.’

  A look of contemptuous amusement passed over Nofret’s face.

  ‘So the dogs are howling?’

  ‘They are very angry–they will do some harm to you.’

  Nofret shook her head.

  ‘No one can harm me,’ she said, with a superb confidence. ‘If they did, it would be reported to your father–and he would exact vengeance. They will know that when they pause to think.’ She laughed. ‘What fools they have been–with their petty insults and persecutions! It was my game they played all the time.’

  Renisenb said slowly:

  ‘So you have planned for this all along? And I was sorry for you–I thought we were unkind! I am not sorry any longer…I think, Nofret, that you are wicked. When you come to deny the forty-two sins at the hour of judgement you will not be able to say “I have done no evil.” Nor will you be able to say “I have not been covetous.” And your heart that is being weighed in the scales against the feather of truth will sink in the balance.’

  Nofret said sullenly:

  ‘You are very pious all of a sudden. But I have not harmed you, Renisenb. I said nothing against you. Ask Kameni if that is not so.’

  Then she walked across the courtyard and up the steps to the porch. Henet came out to meet her and the two women went into the house.

  Renisenb turned slowly to Kameni.

  ‘So it was you, Kameni, who helped her to do this to us?’

  Kameni said eagerly:

  ‘Are you angry with me, Renisenb? But what could I do? Before Imhotep left he charged me solemnly that I was to write at Nofret’s bidding at any time she might ask me to do so. Say you do not blame me, Renisenb. What else could I do?’

  ‘I cannot blame you,’ said Renisenb slowly. ‘You had, I suppose, to carry out my fat
her’s orders.’

  ‘I did not like doing it–and it is true, Renisenb, there was not one word said against you.’

  ‘As if I cared about that!’

  ‘But I do. Whatever Nofret had told me, I would not have written one word that might harm you, Renisenb–please believe me.’

  Renisenb shook her head perplexedly. The point Kameni was labouring to make seemed of little importance to her. She felt hurt and angry as though Kameni, in some way, had failed her. Yet he was, after all, a stranger. Though allied by blood, he was nevertheless a stranger whom her father had brought from a distant part of the country. He was a junior scribe who had been given a task by his employer, and who had obediently carried it out.

  ‘I wrote no more than truth,’ Kameni persisted. ‘There were no lies set down, that I swear to you.’

  ‘No,’ said Renisenb. ‘There would be no lies. Nofret is too clever for that.’

  Old Esa had, after all, been right. That persecution over which Satipy and Kait had gloated had been just exactly what Nofret had wanted. No wonder that she had gone about smiling her cat-like smile.

  ‘She is bad,’ said Renisenb, following her thoughts. ‘Yes!’

  Kameni assented. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘She is an evil creature.’

  Renisenb turned and looked at him curiously.

  ‘You knew her before she came here, did you not? You knew her in Memphis?’

  Kameni flushed and looked uncomfortable.

  ‘I did not know her well…I had heard of her. A proud girl, they said, ambitious and hard–and one who did not forgive.’

  Renisenb flung back her head in sudden impatience.

  ‘I do not believe it,’ she said. ‘My father will not do what he threatens. He is angry at present–but he could not be so unjust. When he comes he will forgive.’

  ‘When he comes,’ said Kameni, ‘Nofret will see to it that he does not change his mind. You do not know Nofret, Renisenb. She is very clever and determined–and she is, remember, very beautiful.’

  ‘Yes,’ admitted Renisenb. ‘She is beautiful.’

  She got up. For some reason the thought of Nofret’s beauty hurt her…

  IV

  Renisenb spent the afternoon playing with the children. As she took part in their game, the vague ache in her heart lessened. It was not until just before sunset that she stood upright, smoothing back her hair and the pleats of her dress which had got crumpled and disarranged, and wondered vaguely why neither Satipy nor Kait had been out as usual.

  Kameni had long gone from the courtyard. Renisenb went slowly across into the house. There was no one in the living-room and she passed through to the back of the house and the women’s quarters. Esa was nodding in the corner of her room and her little slave girl was marking piles of linen sheets. They were baking batches of triangular loaves in the kitchen. There was no one else about.

  A curious emptiness pressed on Renisenb’s spirits. Where was everyone?

  Hori had probably gone up to the Tomb. Yahmose might be with him or out on the fields. Sobek and Ipy would be with the cattle or possibly seeing to the cornbins. But where were Satipy and Kait, and where, yes, where was Nofret?

  The strong perfume of Nofret’s unguent filled her empty room. Renisenb stood in the doorway staring at the little wood pillow, at a jewel box, at a heap of bead bracelets and a ring set with a blue glazed scarab. Perfumes, unguents, clothes, linens, sandals–all speaking of their owner, of Nofret who lived in their midst and who was a stranger and an enemy.

  Where, Renisenb wondered, could Nofret herself be?

  She went slowly towards the back entrance of the house and met Henet coming in.

  ‘Where is everybody, Henet? The house is empty except for my grandmother.’

  ‘How should I know, Renisenb? I have been working–helping with the weaving, seeing to a thousand and one things. I have not time for going for walks.’

  That meant, thought Renisenb, that somebody had gone for a walk. Perhaps Satipy had followed Yahmose up to the Tomb to harangue further? But where was Kait? Unlike Kait to be away from her children for so long.

  And again, a strange disturbing undercurrent, there ran the thought:

  ‘Where is Nofret?’

  As though Henet had read the thought in her mind, she supplied the answer.

  ‘As for Nofret, she went off a long time ago up to the Tomb. Oh well, Hori is a match for her.’ Henet laughed spitefully. ‘Hori has brains too.’ She sidled a little closer to Renisenb. ‘I wish you knew, Renisenb, how unhappy I’ve been over all this. She came to me, you know, that day–with the mark of Kait’s fingers on her cheek and the blood streaming down. And she got Kameni to write and me to say what I’d seen–and of course I couldn’t say I hadn’t seen it! Oh, she’s a clever one. And I, thinking all the time of your dear mother–’

  Renisenb pushed past her and went out into the golden glow of the evening sun. Deep shadows were on the cliffs–the whole world looked fantastic at this hour of sunset.

  Renisenb’s steps quickened as she took the way to the cliff path. She would go up to the Tomb–find Hori. Yes, find Hori. It was what she had done as a child when her toys had been broken–when she had been uncertain or afraid. Hori was like the cliffs themselves, steadfast, immovable, unchanging.

  Renisenb thought confusedly: Everything will be all right when I get to Hori…

  Her steps quickened–she was almost running.

  Then suddenly she saw Satipy coming towards her. Satipy, too, must have been up to the Tomb.

  What a very odd way Satipy was walking, swaying from side to side, stumbling as though she could not see…

  When Satipy saw Renisenb she stopped short, her hand went to her breast. Renisenb, drawing close, was startled at the sight of Satipy’s face.

  ‘What’s the matter, Satipy, are you ill?’

  Satipy’s voice in answer was a croak, her eyes were shifting from side to side.

  ‘No, no, of course not.’

  ‘You look ill. You look frightened. What has happened?’

  ‘What should have happened? Nothing, of course.’

  ‘Where have you been?’

  ‘I went up to the Tomb–to find Yahmose. He was not there. No one was there.’

  Renisenb still stared. This was a new Satipy–a Satipy with all the spirit and resolution drained out of her.

  ‘Come, Renisenb–come back to the house.’

  Satipy put a slightly shaking hand on Renisenb’s arm, urging her back the way she had come and at the touch Renisenb felt a sudden revolt.

  ‘No, I am going up to the Tomb.’

  ‘There is no one there, I tell you.’

  ‘I like to look over the River. To sit there.’

  ‘But the sun is setting–it is too late.’

  Satipy’s fingers closed vice-like over Renisenb’s arm. Renisenb wrenched herself loose.

  ‘Let me go, Satipy.’

  ‘No. Come back. Come back with me.’

  But Renisenb had already broken loose, pushed past her, and was on her way to the cliff.

  There was something–instinct told her there was something…Her steps quickened to a run…

  Then she saw it–the dark bundle lying under the shadow of the cliff…She hurried along until she stood close beside it.

  There was no surprise in her at what she saw. It was as though already she had expected it…

  Nofret lay with her face upturned, her body broken and twisted. Her eyes were open and sightless…

  Renisenb bent and touched the cold stiff cheek then stood up again looking down at her. She hardly heard Satipy come up behind her.

  ‘She must have fallen,’ Satipy was saying. ‘She has fallen. She was walking along the cliff path and she fell…’

  Yes, Renisenb thought, that was what had happened. Nofret had fallen from the path above, her body bouncing off the limestone rocks.

  ‘She may have seen a snake,’ said Satipy, ‘and been startled. There are snake
s asleep in the sun on that path sometimes.’

  Snakes. Yes, snakes. Sobek and the snake. A snake, its back broken, lying dead in the sun. Sobek, his eyes gleaming…

  She thought: Sobek…Nofret…

  Then sudden relief came to her as she heard Hori’s voice.

  ‘What has happened?’

  She turned with relief. Hori and Yahmose had come up together. Satipy was explaining eagerly that Nofret must have fallen from the path above.

  Yahmose said, ‘She must have come up to find us, but Hori and I have been out to look at the irrigation canals. We have been away at least an hour. As we came back we saw you standing here.’

  Renisenb said, and her voice surprised her, it sounded so different: ‘Where is Sobek?’

  She felt rather than saw Hori’s immediate sharp turn of the head at the question. Yahmose sounded merely puzzled as he said:

  ‘Sobek? I have not seen him all the afternoon. Not since he left us so angrily in the house.’

  But Hori was looking at Renisenb. She raised her eyes and met his. She saw him turn from their gaze and look down thoughtfully at Nofret’s body and she knew with absolute certainty exactly what he was thinking.

  He murmured questioningly:

  ‘Sobek?’

  ‘Oh no,’ Renisenb heard herself saying. ‘Oh no…Oh no…’

  Satipy said again urgently: ‘She fell from the path. It is narrow just above here–and dangerous…’

  Sobek liked killing. ‘What I do, I shall enjoy doing…’

  Sobek killing a snake…

  Sobek meeting Nofret on that narrow path…

  She heard herself murmuring brokenly:

  ‘We don’t know–we don’t know…’

  And then, with intimate relief, with the sense of a burden taken away, she heard Hori’s grave voice giving weight and value to Satipy’s asseveration.

  ‘She must have fallen from the path…’

  His eyes met Renisenb’s. She thought: ‘He and I know…We shall always know…’

  Aloud she heard her voice saying shakily:

  ‘She fell from the path…’

  And like a final echo, Yahmose’s gentle voice chimed in.

  ‘She must have fallen from the path.’