Chapter 11 The Father’s Confession
The Father’s Confession
Zahra swallowed a lump in her throat as she knelt before the river. Her hands shook as she washed the clothes. She looked back at the treeline often, waiting for someone to emerge.
The King had so clearly laid out her fate the night before that she knew he would come for her.
She had saved his life, but would that be enough to change his mind?
Her father was a criminal, she was a liar, and by the decree of Aur’s laws, they were both bound for execution.
Zahra could try to run, but it would be of no use.
The other servants began packing up their loads, and Zahra glanced back at the trees once more. The King had not come for her.
Zahra followed the servants back to the estate, hanging the clothes to dry before taking her basket inside. All of the servants were standing by the stairs, listening and conversing about a medjay upstairs.
Zahra’s stomach dropped. He had come, after all. She took a deep breath, joining the others by the stairs.
Jala was standing nearby, and turned when she saw Zahra. “Zahra, they—”
“I know.” Zahra pushed past the small crowd, walking up the stairs.
Bahiti’s voice rang through the room. “Of course. I will have a servant fetch her for you.”
Bahiti’s eyebrows raised in surprise as Zahra entered the room. She bowed to Bahiti. “Mistress, I heard you were looking for me.” She turned to bow to Namir, but she froze when she saw Ramses standing there instead.
Ramses’s features were stoic as usual, and he scrutinized her appearance, turning to Bahiti when she spoke again.
“Zahra, this is Ramses, the Captain of the King’s Guard. He has some questions for you.”
Zahra’s legs stiffened as Ramses turned back to her, motioning toward the door. “We will speak out here.”
Zahra nodded, avoiding Bahiti’s gaze as she followed Ramses outside. He led her to his horse, which was tied nearby with a boy watching over it. Ramses paid the boy, and once the child had run off, he turned to Zahra. “The King has requested your presence at the pr-aa.”
Zahra swallowed and nodded. “I will go willingly.”
Ramses helped her onto the horse, riding behind her.
The pr-aa was the first thing to come into Zahra’s vision as they approached Inebu-hedj.
Iteru flowed to the north, its waters sparkling and littered with boats.
A large port could be seen not far off, the first completed of sixteen new ports commissioned by the King.
As they approached the front entrance, Zahra noticed several groups of medjay guarded the pr-aa’s perimeters. Had it been this protected the night before?
Ramses helped Zahra off the horse and guided her inside.
Zahra’s eyes filled with awe as she entered through the main doors.
The inside of the pr-aa was grand, with large, rectangular rooms with plants and statues of netjeru sprinkled throughout.
The walls and pillars were decorated with carvings of Badari and painted with vibrant colors.
Geometric and floral patterns covered the floor.
The walls themselves were higher than even those of the temple, and lush fabric hung from open ceilings and around tall windows that let the light and heat in.
Open tunnels in the floor carried water from Iteru to indoor gardens, which bloomed with flowers and trees that provided shade and cool air to those walking by.
Ramses and Zahra climbed the stairs to the second floor, where there were more designs depicting Aur’s history and the Pharaohs of old.
There were even more medjay on this floor.
An older military official stepped in their path.
His stance was tall and domineering, and he wore an expensive cloak.
His head was bald, and he had a black-and-gray beard.
A large scar was on the side of his face.
Insignia on his clothing and his silver jewelry signified a high military office.
Zahra recognized him instantly: Namir’s uncle, the Great Overseer of Aur’s Army.
Ramses bowed his head to the Great Overseer. “Waaiz.”
Waaiz looked gruffly at Zahra. “Why is she here?”
“The King requested I bring her to him,” Ramses answered. “For what purpose, I don’t know, but he said it was important.”
Waaiz scrutinized Zahra’s face. He turned to Ramses and began to sign. Waaiz’s face became increasingly confused and angry as the two conversed. After several minutes, he finally stepped aside.
Ramses led Zahra to a room at the end of a hall. There were three medjay positioned outside, all of whom stepped aside when Ramses approached. Ramses knocked on the door, waited a moment, and then pushed it open.
The room was comprised of a lush bed, several chests, and a desk. Namir was waiting near the desk, wearing the clothes she had seen him in yesterday morning. Ramses shut the door behind Zahra, leaving the two alone.
Zahra bowed deeply. “My King.”
Namir waved his hand. “There is no need for that. Please, take a seat.”
Zahra’s gaze followed his line of sight to the bed.
“I know it is not the most ideal meeting place.” Namir took a seat at the desk. “Waaiz will not let me leave this room with news of the assassins.”
That was why Ramses had come for her this morning. Zahra sat upon the bed, surprised at its plushness. “Ramses said you had questions for me.”
Namir clasped his hands together on the desk. “I do, but first I wanted to thank you.”
Zahra blinked. “Thank me?”
He nodded. “You saved my life at the cost of your own.”
Zahra avoided his gaze. “I knew I would come back.”
“You knew as well as I did that the spell could have ended last night,” Namir countered. “Still, you risked your life.”
She rubbed her arm. “I hoped that a king couldn’t be killed so easily.”
Namir inclined his head to her. “I am grateful regardless.”
Zahra was stunned by the act. She cleared her throat as she pushed a curl behind her ear. “Was Lady Eshe your bride?”
“No.” His features showed his relief as he said it. “I am grateful for that. She was young, and her heart belonged to another.”
Zahra nodded in agreement, though she knew he was not entirely relieved. The day of the Pa-sekhemty Feast would continue, and the hunt for his bride had resumed. “What will you do now?”
“I plan to fulfill our deal.”
Zahra’s mouth fell open. “But I am a criminal. You brought me here to ask me questions about the assassins, not to help me.”
“I have questions about the assassins as well,” Namir clarified. “But you saved my life. That, at the very least, warrants that I hear you out.”
Zahra considered his words as she studied his face. Was he telling the truth?
Namir turned away from her and picked up a blank papyrus from his desk. He folded it in his hands. “What makes you believe your father is innocent?”
Zahra hesitated. Namir’s curious black eyes landed on her. She breathed out, playing with her dress as she spoke. “Every day around the hour of Re, a temple messenger arrives with a letter from my father instructing me to leave the kingdom.”
Namir listened intently as she explained all that she had discovered—that Omar had stolen the Thoth, the papyri in his room, and the hint that he was being forced to do something he did not want to do.
“He refuses to tell me the truth, and every time I am close to getting answers, we are interrupted.” Zahra clenched her dress as she continued in a frustrated tone.
“He is not a bad man. He has served Re in his temple for many years, and he was a physician in Ionia. He seems to think the Thoth carries a dark magic, and he fears for my safety. I think someone is forcing him to do this, but I have no proof except for his words that the papyri were not his.”
Namir mulled over her words. “Why did you not tell me this before?”
“I thought you wouldn’t believe me and you would execute us without a trial.” She paused. “Was I wrong?”
Namir was quiet. “No.” He placed the mangled papyrus on the desk. “What is your plan?”
Zahra’s brow wrinkled. “What do you mean?”
“You swear your father is not responsible for his crime.” His eyebrows raised. “What do you plan to do about it?”
Zahra knotted her hands together as thoughts flew through her mind. “I must speak with him. If I could have more time with him, I know I could get him to tell me the truth.”
“Then that is what we shall do.” Namir stood from his chair. “We shall speak to him and find the truth.”
“What of the assassins?” Zahra asked. “My father leaves his post before the hour of Re, and I don’t know where he will be until late into the night. It will be dangerous.”
“I have no intention of waiting until nightfall to speak with him. I will summon him here, and we will speak with him.” Namir turned to her. “As for the assassins, my medjay will find them—with your help, I hope.”
Zahra took a deep breath and stood. “They’re hiding in one of my people’s villages.”
“Excellent. I shall send the summons to your father, and you will tell me of what you know about the assassins. You said that the letter your father sends is already on its way?”
Zahra nodded. “The messenger should be arriving at my mistress’s estate soon.”
“Then I shall send a medjay to intercept it.” Namir left the room for a few moments, instructing Ramses and the other medjay outside. When he returned, he was carrying a large map. He laid it out on the table, gesturing for her to join him. “Now, tell me what you remember.”
Zahra sat alone in a room filled with cushions, couches, a table, and chairs. The space was lit by oil lamps and a window on the far wall.