Gary Gygax - Dangerous Journeys 2 - Samarkand Solution (4 page)

BOOK: Gary Gygax - Dangerous Journeys 2 - Samarkand Solution
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By the time he was clambering up the weath-erbeaten slats of the pier's ladder, it was plain to the magister that Yakeem had at least a five-minute head start, and unless his destination was nearby, the killer-for-hire would be impossible to find in the labyrinth of On's night-dark streets. The fisherman was already well away as Inhetep reached the top of the ladder and headed toward land. There was nobody in sight ahead, although there was certainly plenty of nighttime activity in the immediate vicinity. "Of course," he murmured as he hurried along. "The Dahlikil would choose just such a spot to enter the city!"

A man such as Yakeem could be in On for a very limited number of reasons, and all of those causes had to be connected to death. It was certain that the assassin was here to accept or execute a contract for murder. In either case, it would be a wealthy or powerful individual hiring the Dahlikil or about to die at his hand. Governor Ram-f-amsu or the hem-neter-tepi Matiseth are likely candidates, Inhetep thought rapidly as he reached the broad roadway paralleling the river. Neither the district's ruler nor the "Great Seer" of Set were likely victims, but rather probable employers of such a man as Yakeem. On the other hand, there were a number of possible targets for assassination in this city. The great priest of Ra, a half-dozen wealthy and unscrupulous merchants, as many land owners of the same stamp, the governor's chief political rival, a guild master prone to be too outspoken, even the high priest of Osiris in the city came to the magister's mind. "Too many targets!" he said aloud. "I have to chance this being a mission yet to be contracted. . .." Which of the two scoundrels would send for the Dahlikil? Ram-f-amsu? Or the chief cleric of the dark, ass-headed deity, Matiseth? It seemed most probable that the former would not bring Yakeem to him in his own city, so Inhetep took a chance and headed for the temple of Set. Its hem-neter-tepi would certainly have no qualms about having the Dahlikil assassin call upon him in Matiseth's very precinct.

There was no place in all ^Egypt, save Per Medjet, willing to host a major temple dedicated to the malign god's might, but Set's house in On was as expansive as any such place dared be. Inhetep was familiar enough with the city to locate the general district easily enough, and from there it was a simple matter to find which of the score of religious edifices was that of the red-eyed deity. The temple building was only of moderate size, but it had extensive courts and grounds, the whole complex being surrounded by a substantial wall nearly twice the priest-wizard's own height. There was, of course, a great entrance, flanked by twin pylons, and somewhere to the rear would be side and service entrances as well.

Inhetep didn't care to announce his presence to the high priest or any of Matiseth's underlings, so he moved away from the front of the compound. In a smaller, deserted side street, the magister took a short baton of ivory chased with a filigree of silver and gold from his tunic's inner fold. Then he reached down and thrust its thicker end between two of the cobbles. "To serve perfectly, be a peach tree," Inhetep intoned softly. As he spoke, the priest-wizard stepped back.

The baton seemed to waver and grow misty. Then it shot up suddenly, growing in girth and height as it branched and took the form of an ordinary fruit tree. It was extraordinary, of course, in its present location, but the tree was unlikely to draw any attention before morning. Inhetep clambered up into the magickal growth, his seemingly gangly limbs finding holds as if he were a youngster clambering upward in search of ripe fruit. In seconds, he was atop the temple wall, and in even less time he had dropped to the inner area. Set's servants disdained to illuminate the place, but the faint light of sky's luminaries showed Inhetep where the temple and its outbuilding lay. Before he went toward those structures, the tall ur-kheri-heb stooped and felt the ground around him. "Come on," he whispered to himself. "I know there's one around someplace." Then his fingers touched the roundness he sought, and Inhetep picked up a bruised peach. Placing it inside his garments, the magister moved quickly toward the most likely of the buildings, which clustered around the temple as might scarabs around fresh camel dung.

He was almost at the shuttered window of the dark structure, an aperture from which light rays indicated a tenant was in occupancy, when massive arms, whose hairiness could not conceal the corded muscles beneath, encircled his chest. Inhetep felt the grip and tried to drop out of it, even as he opened his mouth to speak a word of power. The simian arms squeezed tight, lifted him from his feet, and contracted, expelling all air from the wizard-priest's lungs. At that instant, blackness swept over him.

CONFRONTATIONS

" The faithful normally enter by the front gate, Magister Inhetep," drawled the long-faced prelate of Set.

The wizard-priest blinked once, orienting himself. Then he looked calmly at Matiseth Chemres and quipped, "And honest priests don't have dangerous monsters roaming their temple's grounds, Great Seer."

"But that is only prudent in such a city as On. I believe it not customary for ur-kheri-hebu—one styled as an 'ur-kheri-heb-tepi' of Thoth, in fact-— to come stealing into the grounds of other institutions as might a thief in the night, either."

The high priest of Set was smirking, for no matter what Inhetep might say, the fact was that he had been caught creeping around as if he were some bandit bent on criminal activity. "I must then offer my apology," the magister said with a level tone which neither betrayed emotion or conveyed regret. "I was in search of a dangerous felon, and my entrance was not normal because of that fact. You may, of course, count me among the faithful of Thoth—judge of disputes between deities such as your own and Hern, for instance." Matiseth's horse-like face hardened at that, and his mouth turned down from a smirk to a barely imperceptible frown. Inhetep had scored with those words.

"Ancient history, dear fellow," the man said coldly. "What am I to do with you, I wonder?"

"Unlock these manacles, of course," Inhetep replied.

"Ah, but not so fast. You might be an importer—a mountebank or, even worse, an assassin! It takes only moderate skill in hekau to disguise oneself with illusion. First, I must be satisfied you
are
the noble Magister Seine Inhetep, then we shall deal with your trespassing, and only thereafter may you possibly be released.

"What have you to say now, ur-kheri-heb of the bird-head?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Matiseth! You yourself recognized me for who I am, and you have ample power to detect any imposture or illusory semblance. Free me immediately. An agent of Pharaoh cannot be held-—for any reason, let alone trespassing."

The equine features of the hem-neter-tepi of Set were again moving toward a smirk. "Agent? It is well known that the real Setne Inhetep resigned his office years ago,"

The recuperative powers of the green-eyed priest-wizard were near to restoring him to his full abilities. Inhetep had been caught by one of the temple's trained apes—carnivorous gorillas kept and bred over centuries for size, strength, ferocity, and cunning. The monster had come close to breaking the wizard-priest's ribs when it had grappled him, and there was a bump on Inhetep's shaven pate where the beast had hurled him down, probably at Matiseth Chem-res' bidding, when it brought its prize inside to its master. St was evident that the high priest of Set was confident that Inhetep had suffered sufficiently to incapacitate him for a time, or else Matiseth would either have been more polite or taken greater precautions to bind him. Although his hands and feet were secured by dweomered chains, Inhetep was not gagged or otherwise inhibited from employing magick. "Is that so?" he rejoined with a mocking tone; and as he looked unwaveringly at Matiseth, there appeared on his plain cotton tunic the emblem of Pharaoh's own agents, the Utchatu: a two-headed birdlike form with wings outstretched, one head a falcon with the golden eye of the sun, the other that of an owl with the silver eye of the moon.

The hem-neter-tepi's eyes were drawn to the emblem, and it was evident its sudden appearance on Inhetep's breast was quite unexpected. "Well ... that, too, could be some ruse," he offered nonplussed.

"And this?" inquired the Magister, handing him the manacles and leg chains. "That pet gorilla of yours savaged me, 'Great Seer,' but only insignificantly—it is a mere brute, you know, and cannot be expected to know how to efficiently incapacitate an ur-kheri-heb. Next time, I suggest you use more conventional sentinels."

Matiseth Chemres leaped to his feet, hands held before him as if to ward off an attack or to send some magick of his own casting toward the tall priest-mage. "Beware, magister! I am no ordinary fellow to be trifled with. Use heka at your peril!"

Inhetep laughed. "Pish. How can you see a threat in a mere return of your own equipment? Now, however, I must be on my way, for I have much to do yet this night."

"Not so fast, ur-kheri-heb!" There was an edge in Matiseth's voice as the hem-neter-tepi of Set said that. "As an official of the city and sepat of On, I am detaining you for police questioning."

"Oh, stop the charade, Chemres," the magister countered. "You know very well that there is no cause and the authorities here have no jurisdiction."

"I can't stop you from departing, Inhetep, but I can and will make a report of this whole matter to Prince Ram-f-amsu. We will then see what transpires. ..."

There was no question that such a report would irritate the Pharaoh, earn disfavor for Harphosh—Inhetep's visit to the governor in Innu was too recent to be viewed as coincidental—and possibly cause the revocation of the ma-gister's credentials. Unless Inhetep cooperated now, the Great Seer Matiseth could lodge a complaint whose weight and repercussions would be

considerable. "Very well. Let us go immediately to Governor Ram-f-amsu's offices."

"I'm afraid that's quite impossible, Inhetep. The prince is holding a meeting with—with important dignitaries, or so I'm told."

Although Inhetep gave no sign that he marked the sudden correction, it was a slip of the tongue he didn't miss. Matiseth was so close to the hatia of On as to know what business he conducted at this moment and had almost blurted out what that was. The easy removal of the specially prepared bindings by the priest-wizard must have shaken Matiseth considerably. Setne pretended to miss the point entirely. "What matter that? If His Excellent Highness Prince Ram-f-amsu is already working late, then our appearance at the palace will not add a further burden. I insist we go now—-or it is I who will appear without you, Chemres."

The high priest's face was longer than ever, but he acquiesced with a show of ill grace. "One of these days, meddling ur-kheri-heb, you will so overstep yourself that I'll have you!"

"I thought that's what had happened now," Inhetep supplied blandly as he left the starkly furnished room. Matiseth scowled and followed him, the wizard-priest passing into a short hallway and heading directly for a pair of large doors at its end. They gave onto the flower-filled garden, which was the exclusive domain of the temple's prelate. "A pleasant little place you have here, Chemres. I do hope you've leashed your apes ... I'd hate to spoil the landscaping with scorch marks and splattered gore."

The great cleric of Set wasn't sure what Inhetep might use, but he was certain that the ur-kheri-heb had ample force to manage something of the sort. "Dumal! Urhekt! Leash the betu-huru. Quickly!" A pair of uab priests appeared from a shadowed portico nearby, each shaking a golden sistrum. Two shambling simians came at the tinkling sounds the priests made with their instruments, and Matiseth snarled, "There, Inhetep, you are quite safe now. Get out of this dedicated place quickly; you profane it!"

"I thought filth polluted the clean, not vice versa," Inhetep quipped as he walked with long strides to the protected postern which was the chief priest's personal entry.

Although the city of On was by no means as prosperous as Innu, and its crowded slums and shabby structures showed little in the way of pretension towards anything like wealth, the governor's palace was just the opposite. As Inhetep and the chief ecclesiastic of the ass-headed Set approached the structure, it was apparent that the hatia of On was not averse to display. The whole of the huge place was ablaze with light, and there were a multitude of servants, private guards, and city watch swarming all over it. "You understated Ram-f-amsu's distraction," the magister said to Matiseth as he took in the chaotic scene. He thought privately that perhaps the great priest's personal contact with Prince Ram-f-amsu was not so telling as he had assumed from the man's blunder. Could it be that Matiseth was a mere name dropper?

"Our governor plans to improve things in this district—startling new concepts, I might add."

"Really," said Inhetep as he strode to the en-I ranee of the palace. Guards with glaive-guisarmes blocked his way, their long-hafted weapons clanging into a crossed position to indicate forbidden entry. In truth, they had a right to be suspicious, for the priest-wizard looked both shabby and soiled after the night's adventure. However, one glance at his emblem of office sufficed for the soldiers to snap to stiff attention and pass him through the gate. Matiseth Chemres was unchallenged. "I see they know you here as well as you know His Excellent Highness's ambitions," the magister remarked.

"A wise man seeks the counsel of clear thinkers and other clever leaders," the hem-neter-tepi of Set huffed with self-importance. "Here. I'll lead the way." Matiseth strutted ahead, red cape fluttering, passing several more sets of guards as he led his adversary into the main hall and through several antechambers and lesser halls. To their left was a salon of sorts filled with well-dressed folk, but the high priest ignored them and went straight for what could only be the inner council room of the governor.

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