Pilot Who Knows the Waters (The Lord Hani Mysteries, #6) by N.L. Holmes

Author:N.L. Holmes
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: WayBack Press
Published: 2022-06-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 9

The following day, after lunch but before the afternoon petitioners had begun to fill the vestibule, Hani and Ptah-mes sat at table, finishing the last of a ewer of exceedingly fine wine from the north. Ptah-mes put on an affectation of good cheer, but Hani felt he was still troubled by the encounter with his son the previous day. Knowing his friend as he did, Hani suspected the man was recriminating over his intransigence.

A discreet cough made them look up. Ptah-mes’s doorkeeper stood in the entry to the vestibule. “Lord Maya, there’s a young boy at the door. He asked to see you. May I send him in?” The porter hovered indecisively, his hands clasped taut before him.

Ptah-mes exchanged curious looks with Hani then said, “Yes, of course.”

“Should I leave, my lord?” Hani asked quietly, starting to rise.

“No, no. I can’t imagine what it can be about. Some tradesman’s delivery boy, no doubt.”

But Hani wasn’t surprised when Amen-mes entered the salon with hesitating steps. He caught sight of Hani from the corner of his eye but, without any sign of recognition, went directly to Ptah-mes’s feet and bent in a deep bow, his hand to his mouth.

Ptah-mes said nothing, but his color leached out suddenly.

“My grandfather,” the boy murmured. He was visibly girding himself for a difficult exchange, and Hani had to admire the youngster’s courage. “I... I wanted you to know that I’m not mad at you, even if Father is.” His voice trembled a bit with intensity. “I’ve always wanted to meet you.”

Ptah-mes seemed caught without words for a moment, then he said, “Have you, now?”

Once more, Hani started to his feet, ready to slide unobtrusively away.

Amen-mes said with the earnest innocence of youth, “Grandmother always told us you were a good man, just wrong. And you’re a friend of Lord Hani too. You can’t be as bad as Aunt Mut-em-wia says.”

Ptah-mes laughed—a sharp, bitter noise. Hani had met Ptah-mes’s eldest daughter. He could well imagine her trying to poison her nephew against her father, whom she resented not only for his apparent collaboration with the Atenist regime but also for his marriage to Neferet.

“I may or may not be, actually,” Ptah-mes said. His voice had softened, and he held out a hand to the boy, who drew nearer. “At any rate, I certainly won’t contaminate you. I’m very pleased to meet you at last, Amen-mes.”

Hani said with a smile, “Did your aunt tell you your grandfather’s wife is my daughter?”

“Mut-em-wia and Father said she was out to get your gold, Grandfather. That she was a bad person. But if she’s your daughter, Lord Hani...” Amen-mes hung his head, confused and conflicted.

“In fact, Neferet is a very good person. She’s a sunet who takes care of sick people,” Ptah-mes said. His features had begun to relax somewhat. “Would you like something to eat, my son?”

Amen-mes seemed to fight with himself but said finally with unconcealed pleasure, “Yes, Grandfather. Thank you.”

Ptah-mes called a servant to bring some fruit, and the boy gratefully bit into a dried plum.

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