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Authors: Pauline Gedge

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BOOK: House of Illusions
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“I did wrong, Highness,” he said in a low voice. “I am sorry. I thank you for a clemency I do not deserve.” He backed down the hall and as he passed me I thought, Yes, you are being spared because you are like me. You betrayed the betrayers. The doors swung open and closed again behind him.

I looked at Paiis. He had regained his former stance. His chin was up and he was gazing fixedly at a point on the wall above my head. He must have known that his attempt to subvert the court was in itself a grave crime and its discovery, added to the already existing charges, would confirm his guilt and make his sentence inevitable. But his self-control had faltered only momentarily and he had recovered it in a way I could not help admiring. Ramses spoke again.

“Pabesat, judge and Royal Councillor, May, judge and Royal Scribe of the Chancery, on your feet,” he said. “Do you have anything to say to this court?” The two men struggled up, and turning to the dais, fell on their knees. As one of them, it was May I think, bent over to place his forehead on the floor, he broke out in a gush of nervous sweat that drenched his long kilt and dripped audibly on the tiles. The shape of his buttocks could be discerned through the now sopping linen clinging to them. Both men were breathing loudly.

“Have mercy on us, Lord!” one of them burst out. “We were weak. The General is a powerful man against whom no accusation of wrongdoing has ever been made. He persuaded us that the case had been brought by a jealous and vengeful woman who wished to destroy him.”

“But you read the evidence,” Ramses objected coldly. “You heard the words of the officials who examined the body of the assassin this same General hired. Your love of gold was greater than your love of the truth. You are little better than the man who deluded you. Because you abandoned the instructions given to you, I command that you should be taken at once to a place of seclusion and there your noses and ears are to be struck from your bodies. Captain!” A soldier detached himself from the shadows, and signalling to others, came forward.

May began to flail about on the floor, sobbing, “No! No! It was not our fault! Mercy, Prince!” but Pabesat rose and stood shaking, his hands clenching the folds of his garment. The soldiers took hold of them impassively. They were forced to lift May from the ground and carry him out of the hall. His wails echoed briefly against the roof, and then he and the sounds of his terror were gone.

Ramses slid back onto his chair and crossed his legs. I reached for Kamen’s hand, feeling sick. Three judges had been dismissed, but what of the other three? The Prince lifted a cup that sat by his foot and drank slowly, reflectively. He set it down. Was he marshalling his thoughts or deliberately drawing out the moment? I could not tell. When he spoke, it was quietly, calmly. “Baal-mahar, Yenini, Peloka,” he said. “Leave the seats you are not worthy to fill, and join the scum in whose filth you have wallowed. Do not argue or protest. You saw the birth of the plot against the God, many years ago. You discussed it with the other accused. You suggested ways in which it could be carried out. The fact that you took no active part in its slow unfolding does not excuse you. Paibekamun and Pentu the scribe came and went from the General’s house and the Seer’s house to the palace, sharing such information as you all needed. I shudder to think that all of you had access to my father, and if it had not been for the protection of the other gods, who love him as one of their own, you might have succeeded in warping the course of Egypt’s history and bringing Ma’at into disgrace. Fortunately your servants have proved to be more loyal than you. When questioned and assured that this time there was evidence to support the claim of the Lady Thu, they capitulated.”

I had been in a state of shock until the mention of my name brought me to myself. For all these years I had imagined that I knew all the conspirators, but it seemed that the web Hui and Paiis had spun and cast abroad had drawn in others, even a Royal Councillor. The Prince is a cunning man, I thought with a chill. This trial is very advantageous for him. He is sweeping out the house that will soon be his, and in the process he both lets all Egypt know that treason will bring the inevitable consequence, and assures himself that when he ascends the Horus Throne he is surrounded by loyal ministers.

While these words had been passing through my mind, the men had risen and crossed the floor to stand beside Paiis. They looked dazed, even uncomprehending, and for a moment I pitied them. They had lived in a comfortable safety, doubtless knowing nothing of the new danger confronting them when Kamen returned with me from Aswat. After all, if the Prince was correct, they had not been in the forefront of the plot and Paiis would not have bothered to keep them informed. The order commanding them to serve as judges at this trial must have seemed not only a fine joke to them but also an opportunity to free their compatriot and proceed with their lives. Ramses’ investigation had been too thorough for them, a far more rigorous exercise than one his father would have conducted.

Ramses nodded at the Overseer of Protocol. There were to be no more surprises. Straightening his shoulders, his hands flat on the pile of papyrus on his table, the man repeated the words he had intoned earlier. “The evidence has been heard,” he called. “The time for condemnation is at hand.” He faced the four remaining judges. “Mentu-em-taui, judge and Treasurer, what is your decision?” Mentu-em-taui stood.

“All are guilty,” he said flatly and sat down again.

“Karo, judge and Fanbearer,” the Overseer said. “What is your decision?” Karo rose.

“All are guilty,” he agreed, and resumed his seat. The final two judgements were the same. The scribe on the floor beside the Overseer scratched industriously.

Following this there was a heavy silence. Ramses sat with his chin resting in his palm, staring broodingly at the accused. They stared back at him as if hypnotized, reminding me forcefully of hares trapped in the predatory glare of a cobra. At last he stirred and sighed. “I do not like to do this,” he said. “No, not at all. You are Egypt’s bane, all of you, when once you were Egypt’s young glory. But I must root you out like the poisonous plants you are. May the Feather of Ma’at judge you less harshly.” A tiny sound escaped from Hunro, both gasp and cry. She was holding her brother’s arm with both hands, her eyes riveted on the Prince.

“I want to speak, Highness,” she choked, her voice thin and tinged with panic. “Please, may I speak?”

“It is against court protocol for the accused to have anything to say,” Ramses replied flatly. Hunro came to her feet, arms out and palms uplifted in the ancient gesture of supplication.

“I beg you, Horus-in-the-Nest,” she said brokenly. “A few words. Before death silences me forever.” Ramses thought and then fanned his fingers.

“Be brief.” Hunro gulped.

“I plead for my brother Banemus,” she began, and beside her the man looked up sharply. “It is true that in the beginning, many years ago, he heard the treasonous words fall from the mouth of Paiis, and out of his own frustration he acceded to them. He agreed to foment rebellion against your father’s administration among the troops stationed in Nubia once the God was dead, for he believed, as we all did, that Ma’at was wounded under your father’s hand. But he returned to his duties in the south and did nothing further. He would not attend …”

“No, Hunro!” Banemus broke in angrily. He had come to his feet. “I will not let you do this! I have been judged as guilty as you! I will not accept mercy at your hands!”

“If mercy is granted, it will be at my hands, Banemus,” the Prince interjected. “Sit down. Go on, Hunro.” It was impossible to tell from his expression whether or not her plea was moving him.

“He would not attend the meetings we held to air our grievances and further our plans on the few occasions when he came home to Pi-Ramses.” She swallowed, swaying, and I was afraid that she was about to faint. But she rallied, stood straight, and looked defiantly at Ramses. “He is guilty of nothing more than an hour of temporary madness, soon over. He did not want to hear how we crept slowly towards our goal.”

“How is it, then, that his regret at being even temporarily involved did not translate into the loyalty to his King that should have compelled him to report the matter to the Vizier?” Ramses queried drily. “And it is not true that he refused to attend all feasts. The Lady Thu has written and testified that she met him at the house of the Seer.”

“But the plot was not mentioned that night,” Hunro said eagerly. “Thu knew nothing of it then. The men had gathered to assess Thu’s suitability to … to impress your father. Banemus did not know. I swear he did not.”

“Peace, Hunro,” Banemus said, grasping her arm. “Of course I knew. I thought the whole thing foolish, doomed to fizzle out and die like a poorly made fire, but I knew. Do not demean yourself by lying any more.” He pulled her down. She burst into tears and sobbed, laying her head in the hollow of his shoulder. His arm went around her.

Ramses stood. One hand went to the ceremonial dagger at his belt. The other rested on his hip. “Baal-mahar rise,” the Overseer called. The man obeyed.

“Baal-mahar, guilty in this matter, you are to be taken to a place of execution where your head will be severed from your body,” the Prince said, and immediately the Overseer shouted, “Baal-mahar, you have been awarded your punishment.” The Prince turned to Yenini who had already come clumsily to his feet.

“Yenini, guilty in this matter, you are to be taken to a place of execution where your head will be severed from your body.” At once the Overseer called, “Yenini, you have been awarded your punishment.” The same terrible words rang out to Peloka, smiting my ears and beating on my heart.

I have done this. The words formed in my head with dreadful clarity. I have brought death to all these people. It no longer matters whether or not they are guilty. Their plans came to nothing in the end. The King lives. I live. How ironic! But their blood will spurt from their necks and splash the executioner’s legs and puddle the earth outside the row of cells I remember so well, all because I met Kamen one evening in Wepwawet’s temple at Aswat. I shuddered. All these lives. It is just, but will their blood pour onto the scales of the Judgement Hall when my own heart is weighed, and force the balance against me?

I was very tired. The great lamps, tended by soft-footed servants who glided unobtrusively from one to the other, burned steadily in the centre of the wide pools of yellow light they cast. In the darkly gleaming floor, the golden specks of pyrite alternately took fire and dulled as the flames wavered. The ceiling of the vast room was shrouded, and a lake of dimness separated me from the condemned before the opposite wall, as though the sentences of death had already been carried out and I was peering at pale ghosts across the chasm that divided the dead from the living.

Mersura, Panauk, Pentu and Paibekamun were also to die by beheading. They received the judgement listlessly. I could see that the reality of the Prince’s words had not penetrated their own weariness. They craved rest, food. Perhaps their backs were aching and their ankles swelling from a day of enforced idleness. Their bodies knew nothing of the moments that could no longer be squandered on appetite or sensation, and their minds were still closed to the horror of the annihilation looming.

The Prince also seemed exhausted. The hollows beneath his kohled eyes had deepened and the lids had swollen slightly. It was as though a smothering blanket had descended on the whole company. Only the Overseer showed no sign of flagging. Patiently he waited for the last pronouncements. “General Paiis, rise,” Ramses said. Paiis came to his feet in one graceful movement. His one loss of dignity was behind him and he stood to attention now, a senior officer facing his ultimate superior, handsome and still proud. “General Paiis, guilty in this matter, you are to be taken to a place of incarceration and there you are to take your own life in any manner you choose, within a period of seven days from now, according to the law governing the disciplining of those of noble blood. Your arouras and estates are as of this hour khato, and your crops, cattle and other riches also revert to the Double Crown. Remove the armbands of his command.”

“General Paiis, you have been awarded your punishment,” the Overseer said, addressing him by his title for the last time as an officer strode to Paiis. But Paiis stripped the golden symbols of his military position from his arms himself and handed them to the man. As he did so, his face flushed crimson and then the colour receded as rapidly as it had come, leaving him white as salt. He remained on his feet.

“Lady Hunro, rise.” The Prince’s voice was husky, but I did not think its tone had changed from emotion, merely from tiredness. Hunro rose but one hand pressed against Banemus’s shoulder for support. Her legs were trembling. “Lady Hunro, guilty in this matter, you are to be taken to a place of incarceration and there you are to take your own life in any manner you choose, within a period of seven days from now, according to the law governing the disciplining of those of noble blood. Your arouras and estates are as of this hour khato, and your crops, cattle and other riches also revert to the Double Crown. Your title is void.”

“Where is Hui?” Hunro burst out hysterically over the drone of the Overseer’s voice, telling her that she had been awarded her punishment. “What about him? Why is he not condemned also? It is not fair!” Ramses ignored her.

“General Banemus, rise,” he ordered. Banemus got up and lowered Hunro onto her chair before turning to face the Prince. But Ramses did not speak the expected sentence. He blew out his lips and regarded his fighting man resignedly. “You are a problem, General,” he said. “By the right of Ma’at I should condemn you to death along with the others, but you are the ablest general Egypt has, and oddly enough, the most honest. You spoke out many times to my father against the foolishness of putting Egypt’s best soldiers where they could do the least good. You have served in Nubia with intelligence and foresight. There is no evidence that you carried out your thoughtless threat to rouse Egyptian soldiers to revolt against their betters, a threat, I believe, made impulsively as a result of your extreme frustration. You heard of the plot and said nothing, a damning blow against you. But the same can be said for the servants of these other accused and I pardoned them for their misguided loyalty and their common blood. Therefore I will command thus. Your General’s armbands will be taken from you, and you will be demoted to the lowest rank of the infantry. Your secular title is also revoked. You will labour under the most junior officer in the division to which I shall assign you. Your holdings will be placed under the jurisdiction of the Double Crown until such time as you have worked your way back up to the privileged position you have heretofore enjoyed. I have spoken.” Banemus stared at him.

BOOK: House of Illusions
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