Gary Gygax - Dangerous Journeys 2 - Samarkand Solution (9 page)

Resuming his disguise as a boatman, Inhetep traversed the distance to his lodgings at the Reedfields. The guise enabled him to walk undisturbed by beggar or ruffian while he pondered the day's events. He was near the inn when a slight sound from behind caused him to snap out of his reverie. Setne's instincts made him crouch. A heavy sword passed over his head with a hissing swish, but a sandaled foot caught him on his bent leg and sent the wizard-priest sprawling to the cobbles. A second kick glanced painfully off his knee, and sparks flew from the contact of steel on stone as an axe struck near his side. Rolling to get clear of his attackers, Inhetep inadvertently pinned himself against the wall of a building. Two dark forms closed to finish their work.

Suddenly there was a loud smack, and one of the two attackers dropped in his tracks as if pole-axed. The second thug spun, sword arcing before him to ward off any assault. There was a clash of metal; the assailant cursed in a gutteral voice and flung a handful of granules out in a shower. The stuff flew outward, burst into incandescent meteors, then shrieked as if each were a tiny, tortured imp. The bright fury of their blaze lasted only a split second, the shrieking but a bit longer, and thereafter only a reeking smoke remained. Each particle had generated a dense little cloud of suffocating vapor, and the whole area was now filled with the stuff.

Someone choked and coughed. "Inhetep? Are you all right?"

The magister gritted his teeth, as much in frustration as in pain. "Considering what might have happened to me, sir, I am quite well, thank you. Who is that who speaks? I owe you my life."

"Inspector Tuhorus," came the laconic reply.

"You are as hard to deceive as a dragon, evidently," Inhetep told the policeman as he waved away the irritating smoke and confronted the policeman. "I am certainly grateful to you, though, and that's to say the least. But tell me, what manner of man are you so able to track an ur-kheri-heb about?"

"One who placed a 'bug' on you," said the homely inspector without blinking. "My own scarab remains visible to me regardless of what illusory cloaking might cover you, Magister."

Inhetep plucked the beetle-shaped bit of metal Tuhorus referred to from the back of his tunic and handed it back to the fellow. "And my inability to slip away from you? You did follow me from the inn, I suppose."

"Not at all. I left that to another, knowing that you'd spot him, lose him, and then head for wherever you decided you needed to go."

"But ... I see. It was that evident I would seek out Matiseth Chemres?"

"It seemed the most likely prospect, so I staked out the temple and have been near to you ever since."

"Luckily for me," the wizard-priest said as he took Tuhorus by the arm. "Come along with me to the Reedfields. I have need of some strong spirits—excellent Neustrian brandy. Join me, please. I think you will also enjoy learning about what I discovered when I paid a call to the high priest this night." Saying nothing, but lending assistance to the battered priest-wizard, Chief Inspector Tuhorus agreed.

After seating themselves comfortably, the two detectives savored the liquor for a time before either spoke. "This fiery stuff might well finish me for further work tonight," the policeman said, as he rubbed his tired eyes and set aside the empty glass.

"Not after I tell you what I have found," the magister commented. Inhetep then related what had occurred, both in his magickal examination of the high priest's chambers and what happened thereafter.

"He has the same inordinate interest in geography as was evidenced by the maps on Ram-f-amsu's walls, so he and the governor shared that quirk, shall we say. Not anything important without further support, I'll admit."

Tuhorus urged him on. "And you found more?"

"Yes. Tomorrow I think you should accompany me for another little visit. There are some books in Matiseth Chemres' library which aren't quite what they seem."

"No?"

"No. Their covers purport to deal with the Sudd and navigation of the upper branches of the Nylle, but inside the good ecclesiastic has extensive notes on an organization and conspiracy. It seems that the dead prince and governor of your sepat, Tuhorus, was plotting insurrection."

"You're jesting! There is no hope of changing dynasties, even Pharaohs of our current house. Not with—"

"Ram-f-amsu knew that. The efforts were along another line entirely. He meant to sunder Lower AEgypt from the kingdom, making it a separate and sovereign state, so to speak. We'll find out more from an examination of the palace and Matiseth's own records. The prince suggested that Set might become the chief deity of the new kingdom. Matiseth went along, of course. Typical of any of Set's followers, ecclesiastic or secular."

"Why didn't you arrest him on the spot, Inhetep?"

"That would certainly send up a warning flare to all the rest involved. I have reason to believe this is a massive conspiracy. I tried to entice Chemres into cooperating, but he is adamantly bent on his own dark course." He stopped, poured a little more brandy into both glasses, then resumed. "I'll give us both a draught of dweomered stimulant soon, so enjoy the moment. The stuff to follow makes one feel superb, but it tastes as if it were brewed from bat droppings and horse sweat, only worse—just how you'll feel an hour after it wears off too, unless you are asleep by then."

"The governor's palace?"

Inhetep nodded. "We'll need to search that place from top to bottom for evidence of the plot. Then we go to Chemres and confront him. The ambitious knave must have sent those two muggers to kill me so that his secret would be hidden."

Tuhorus disagreed. "Those were no men of his, magister. Didn't you hear them speak?"

"No," the tall priest-wizard admitted. "I was too busy trying to save my skin. What makes you so sure they weren't Matiseth's men?"

"One was using Azirian castings, and they spoke in Mongolian or Turkic. I'd wager one was a shaman, the other a warrior of the sort dedicated to his calling by devotion."

The green eyes fastened onto those of the unpreposing inspector. "You demonstrate unusual knowledge for a city policeman, Tuhorus. I'd like to know how it is you are so sure of that."

"Because, ur-kheri-heb, I happen to have spent twelve years in the study of barbaric folk and primitive magick—as well as herbalism, toxicology, and the rest that goes with them. In the process, I've managed to become a fair practical dweomercraefter myself."

Inhetep considered that a moment. In a city such as On, and in his line of work, Tuhorus would indeed benefit from a working knowledge of the sorts of heka used by self-made hedge magicians, partial practitioners, and the others who made the slums of the community their home. The man had little natural power, but by hard work and perseverance, it
was
possible to manage a considerable amount of lesser magicks. Such ability would also explain Tuhorus' position in the ranks of the Metropolitan Prefecture—invaluable but feared, so that he would remain always as an operative and never as the head of the force. The magister thought it likely that he had arisen from the lower class to hold an important position. That explained his vociferous dislike for Inhetep: a noble, wealthy, and well-educated ur-kheri-heb-tepi—all that the chief inspector was not. Setne gave the fellow a warm smile and nodded. His voice held admiration as he said, "Good. Together, Tuhorus, I think we shall be able to conclude this case swiftly—your case, now. I am here to assist."

MURDER IN
SET'S
HOUSE

Tuhorus wanted to tell the priest-wizard to save his favors, but then he thought better of it. The Utchat-neb had been most sincere. It was his way of thanking the police official. More than that, it was also Inhetep's way of telling him that he had confidence in his ability as a detective. Even as he considered all that, the tall man had produced the promised elixir, and Tuhorus quaffed his little portion. It tasted worse than its description. "Yetch!"

"I warned you," the ur-kheri-heb drawled with an ill-concealed grin. "Shall we go?"

Perhaps he was a little older than the wizard-priest, Tuhorus couldn't tell for sure. The hard life the chief inspector had led gave him the appearance of being older than his forty-seven years, while Inhetep seemed ageless—-or at least of indeterminate years. It took all his skill to note that Inhetep was well above his late thirties or early forties. Tuhorus glanced in a mirror and saw his own face looking younger and fresher than it had in years. "Magister, is your potion one of youth? Or are my eyes playing tricks on me?"

"Neither. The stimulant is possibly the cause of some of what you see, but the stuff hasn't any real effect on your age, Tuhorus. Perhaps it is your own inner excitement for this case. . . ."

Tuhorus mentally resolved to retain the attitude if the result would be so salubrious. He felt more than merely refreshed. "There are a couple of my men here—one inside, the other watching the street. I'll send the first officer to headquarters to get a team into the palace. Mupahkat, the one outside, can accompany us immediately."

The ur-kheri-heb agreed with him. "Even with the assistance of the governor's guards, Chief Inspector, I think we'll have hours of work ahead. If Ram-f-amsu used the same techniques as the high priest, all of the work will be manual, too."

Without further discussion, the two left Inhetep's chambers, the metropolitan detective leading. In truth, the policeman hated to follow Inhetep because the shaven pate was so far above his eye level. Tuhorus was of average everything, including his five-feet-nine-inch sole to crown measurement. Could the priest-wizard's success be due to his commanding stature and self-confident presence? No—or, at least, not in the main. The man obviously had intelligence, ability, and a desire to achieve. He was not, however, infallible, as proved by the fact that Tuhorus had had to rescue him from the pair of attackers. He felt strongly that if he used his own abilities and common sense, and watched what Magister Inhetep did, he could solve the case before the priest-wizard did. After sending Mupahkat ahead to secure the palace, the chief inspector looked up at Inhetep. "The attack by those two thugs troubles me, Magister. There are factors of it which bode difficult times ahead."

"Matiseth Chemres couldn't have been behind it, nor could . . . any other I can think of."

Why had the priest-wizard trailed off his words and hastily substituted "other" in place of what he had been about to say? Inhetep had some information he was keeping to himself still, and although Tuhorus no longer doubted that the resolution of the matter would be one which was credited to himself and the prefecture, secrecy on the ur-kheri-heb's part made the policeman uneasy. Was this going to end up as a cover-up if the noble ex-secret agent had his way? After all, the prince was not only a member of an ancient noble house but also related distantly to the royal family. Inhetep admitted he had attempted to have the aristocratic high priest cooperate in return for immunity. The reason for Matiseth Chemres' refusal might be that he didn't fear prosecution in any event. No wonder, for unless the kingdom or lives of nobility or their like were threatened by the governor's actions, only commoners needed to fear. Ram-f-amsu's death might end the affair unless there were factors which still applied to the nation, the royal house, or those of high standing.

"You have considered the matter of how they identified you?"

"Hmmm . . ." Inhetep said vaguely, looking at Tuhorus as if searching the man's mind for his thoughts, even though the Scarab of Saa and the amulet of the same entity worn by all inspectors and detectives protected from such intrusion. "A mere mugging doesn't seem very probable, does it? That appears to confirm your assessment that one was a shaman, Inspector. Still, there remains the question of how they knew I would be on that street."

Tuhorus had no doubts, and his pointed remark was meant to pique the wizard-priest's interest in what the inspector knew. "Come on, Inhetep! It's rather plain, as well you know. You are being watched by another agency—one definitely opposed to you, me, and the law! That enemy would have succeeded too, had it not been for my particular precautions and perhaps a smile from Old Bes."

It was now the magister's turn to ponder a bit. Tuhorus' mention of the deity, Bes, gave him some considerable pause too, for the dwarven god was most honored in that part of Afrik which was home to the black race, the race of the Dahlikil and Yakeem, albeit the people who rejected the ^Egyptian pantheon and honored instead the deities of Babylon. Was it mere chance? Or did the police official know about the assassin? But the two lurking killers had been from the East. Tuhorus had suggested that they spoke a language of Central Azir or possibly an Aryan tongue such as that of the Farzians, Parthian, or Hyrkanians used. Setae tried a new tack: "Innu is now a virtual sister city of this one, Chief Inspector. Does your department work closely with that of Innu?"

That certainly laid a scent for him to follow, and Tuhorus made a mental note to do so even as he said, "No, sir, not typically. We would be pleased to do so, and I believe that Governor Prince Harphosh had requested such exchange. Ram-f-amsu might have been the obstacle, but that remains to be seen. Why do you ask?"

"No reason in particular," the ur-kheri heb responded. "Tuhorus, you are a bulldog and a bloodhound, aren't you?!"

Wishing he were also a grayhound, the policeman responded in kind. "And you Utchat-neb, are a mixture of less common sort—say, a sphinx and a fox? Yes, I think that's aptly put."