City of the Dead

said, if Ay’s fat little servant hadn’t got greedy your little bit of palace intrigue would have cost me my neck. It’s all right now, that’s why I’m here; I’ve been sent to kill you. But first I think you need cutting down to size.’
    The fingers of Huy’s right hand had found the handle of the wooden bucket. If he had remembered to fill it it would have been too heavy to lift. Realising that Kenamun was enjoying his moment too much, he filled his lungs with one more large breath for the effort and lifted the bucket, hurling it through the air at the end of his arm. Its copper-bound side caught Kenamun on the side of the head and Huy heard bone split. He felt rather than saw the man fall, and heard the clatter of the knife as it hit the stone bathing platform. Blood filled his universe. He struck out blindly, defensively, as he brought himself to his knees, but connected with nothing but the air. Crawling forwards, not losing his grip on the bucket, he reached out with his left hand in the direction he had sensed Kenamun fall.
    He felt the cloth of his robe and then he had his hand on the man’s chest. Kenamun rolled out of his reach. He raised himself on to his knees, slipping on his own blood. Below him he could just focus on a long object, like a rolled rug, which rocked to and fro, to and fro. He raised the bucket above his head and brought it crashing down with all his force, gasping and gagging on the blood which continued to bubble into his mouth and choke his nostrils. Recovering his balance, he panicked, for he could not see the body. Had Kenamun got up? Reached the knife?
    He made his eyes focus, searching the floor, dragging the bucket with him as he pulled himself forward. There he was. He had rolled out of reach again, that was all. He tried to decide which end the head was. Objects swam in front of his streaming vision; water and blood obscured it. Suddenly he was aware of fingers reaching towards his eyes. One of Kenamun’s hands clawed into the wound in Huy’s cheek and gripped. He raised the bucket again, and smashed it down, thinking, this is for Nehesy, but also feeling, this is for myself. You must die. I must be sure you are dead. I fear you too much. The bucket hit the ground, and jarred out of his hand. He heard the wood splinter. Frantic, he scrambled after it, seized it, and raised it again. This time it hit home and Kenamun’s body, after one convulsion and a long rattling sigh which was the only sound it had made since it first fell, lay still.

TEN

    She bathed off the caked blood and cleaned the ripped flesh, throwing the linen wad which Huy had used to staunch the blood into the fire. She looked at the wound and, as he sat still, passively, he looked at her. She caught his eye briefly and smiled.
    ‘It’s a filthy mess. I’m going to put something on it which will hurt, and then you must drink three cups of flame liquor because it will hurt more when I stitch it up and I want you to keep still. I’ll do my best but you will always have a scar there.’
    She turned to the fire, over which herbs were simmering in a copper pot. Through the door open to the garden, he could see Hapu picking chervil, coriander and dill. The two ro geese, taking a morning walk, came into view and peered inside inquisitively. He sat at a plain sycamore-wood table. It was a high-ceilinged room, whitewashed, bare of decoration. Against the wall opposite the fireplace stood a hard couch, above which pots, retorts and bronze implements were ranged on shelves. This had been Horaha’s consulting room, and it was here that she had brought him immediately after his arrival m the ninth hour of night.
    She had not yet asked him for any explanation, and Huy was too exhausted to give any. He was happy to surrender to Senseneb’s skilled attention, and he was grateful for her restraint.
    The lamp on the table was still lit, though by now the sun had risen fully. Huy wondered how long Horemheb would wait for Kenamun to report back before sending someone to look for him. He thought of the police chief’s smashed body, still lying spreadeagled in the bathroom of his house. He had covered it with a blanket before leaving, but he had not had the strength to do more otherwise than close and bolt his doors. He had known that if he could not get medical help quickly he would collapse, and instinctively he had come to Senseneb, leaving immediately in order to arrive before dawn.
    She took the bowl off the