Page 111 of Conspirators' Kingdom

“I doubt that, given she’s been murdered. Damn Khety and his posturing.” Mereruka sighed. “Alright. We need to be properly dressed for this.”

“Agreed,” Taisiya answered as Vasilisa led her behind a screen, a new dress already in hand.

“And let me answer the questions. He’ll try to pin this on us, and you’re not as skilled in courtly speak,” Mereruka added as Bas handed him a new kilt and belt.

“If I were he, I would do the same,” Taisiya remarked. “Vasilisa, have the iron ready in the void. If we must, we’ll kill them all at once.”

“Yet there’s four of us and five of them, discounting the queen,” Vasilisa pointed out.

“I’ll take Khety. Bas can handle the vizier,” Mereruka said.

“I want Radjedef,” Taisiya said.

“Then the green imp Itet is mine,” Vasilisa said.

“And Inkaef?” Taisiya asked.

“He’s more likely to run than fight, and you have excellent aim,” Mereruka answered.

“Why can’t we just do it this way?” Vasilisa asked.

“Because once spells start flying, our plans will quickly fall apart. We would be lucky if we all survived intact. I would rather finance this coup with our patience than our blood.” Mereruka replied, fastening a new jewelled collar around his throat.

Under no circumstances would he slay Khety and the rest of his siblings unprepared, without a proper plan and backup in the form of his own soldiers. Not one of his siblings was a complete pushover, except for maybe Inkaef. And after Nefertnesu’s death, he wasn’t about to do anything too hasty. No doubt Radjedef had tightened security.

Bas handed him his winged crown. Taisiya picked from one of several and Vasilisa placed it on her head, arranging Taisiya’s copper hair and adjusting her make-up. That done, Mereruka held out his hand to his wife. Bas took the form of a cat and Vasilisa sank into Taisiya’s shadow.

Their journey to the throne room was unimpeded by the usual parade of courtiers. Instead, a long line of armed soldiers met them at every juncture, bowing deeply as they passed, yet casting them wary glances. A sombre, tense mood had settled on the palace. Not once in Maat’s long history had the annual journey to the Court of the Inundation been halted, nor had Maat’s monarch ever been forced to backtrack. When they entered through the enormous doors of the throne room, Khety sat with Betrest at his side, his expression cold. The rest of his siblings were awaiting them.

“You have a lot of nerve to make me wait, Mereruka,” Khety began.

“I might apologise, but our sister is dead. Discovering the culprit and appeasing Keftu should take precedence over your grievances with my timing,” Mereruka retorted, allowing his anger to show. It was no secret that he’d loved Nefertnesu the most.

Taisiya made a show of soothing him with a stroking of her hand on his arm. Hopefully, the rest of his siblings would think him on edge over her loss. Good. The best performances held a kernel of truth.

“Her servants say you were the last to meet with her,” Khety accused, his implication clear.

“Did her servants also inform you that we were invited there? She wished to greet me and was curious about my wife. When we left, she was alive and in good health, and I’m happy to swear to that upon my name. I assume her travelling companions have been questioned?”

“It’s being seen to,” Khety replied.

Khety’s eyes narrowed, no doubt frustrated that Mereruka had cut him off at the legs. To offer a vow of truth was as good as giving one, and everyone here knew it. It was also a vow Mereruka could give with a clear conscience, without fear that his other motives might be unveiled. In this instance, the truth, or a limited slice of it, would set him free.

“If you need someone to vouch for our timing, you need only ask your concubine,” Mereruka added.

“Which one?” Khety asked, bored.

“Hemetre. We saw her just as we left Nefertnesu’s rooms.”

“We’ve already heard from Hemetre,” Khety stated.

Khety eyed them, tapping a taloned finger against the arm of his throne, the click-click-click echoing in the empty hall. What fresh scheme was he concocting?

“I accept your statements on this matter as true. However, I am busy interrogating the delegation from Keftu. I want you to contact their king to explain the situation. You are, after all, The Prince of Dreams. If anyone is best suited to mollifying such a man, it would be you and your sharp-witted wife. Can I entrust this task to you, Mereruka? Or is this too much responsibility?”

Accept, and make himself the focus of a wily, cruel, foreign king. Refuse, and appear incompetent. Taisiya squeezed his arm, her gaze steady. If she was ready to play Khety’s game, so was he.

“We would be honoured to act as Maat’s representatives on this matter. I assume I will have full discretion in our dealings with Keftu?” Mereruka asked.

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