Clerestory windows let the sun down into the audience room in slow streamers that lay across the floor like ribbons of gold. Gold glinted as well from the hinges of the cedar door, glittered from the grillework at the windows and flashed, hot and blinding, from the winged goddesses, carved in high relief, that flanked Wenatef's throne.
The two witnesses and the scribe were behind a screen to his left: the scribe, Thutnefer, had lifted his palette and his brushes, smiled at Wenatef and bowed low to him, and said, "Good luck," before stepping behind the screen.
Wenatef had been warmed by the words, but he had no need of good wishes, for he felt the power of the Land of the West upon him and he knew now that whatever happened in that audience chamber could only end in victory.
Nakhtamun had said, We will be with you and you�ll be safe. Wenatef could feel their presence about him. They surrounded him, rank upon rank, unseen but not unperceived, silently watching and judging. Their presence made the room almost seem to hum with power, with a sense of awe and a dread far greater than that inspired by the ghostly army in the tomb of His Majesty.
He set his feet upon the gilded footstool and raised his head as the sound of footsteps approached the doorway. The room grew stiller than death.
A Nubian guard entered the audience room and brought his fist to his heart in a salute - and then faltered backward a step, his eyes, wide in fear, darting to the corners of the chamber and then to Wenatef's face. He saw no one but Wenatef; he composed himself with a visible effort and said, "The Lord Nuteruhotep."
Wenatef had seen Nuteruhotep when he was a child, at the time that Hapuseneb had accused him of dishonesty. He had always remembered Nuteruhotep as a giant among men, filled with menace. Hapuseneb and Neitneferti had never voiced their fears to him - he had been too young at the time - but Wenatef had known that Nuteruhotep was a man who could have his father killed. He remembered the flight to Memphis with his mother, and the long months when he lay awake at night and listened to the quiet sound of his mother's weeping. Now he watched the man enter and wondered why everyone had been so afraid.
Nuteruhotep was an impressively muscled man with a smooth, proud face beneath a heavy shawl wig. A collar of intricately wrought gold beads lay round his neck, and Wenatef remembered it from Khaemwase's description. The necklace of Thutmose III.
Wenatef's eyes fastened on the collar, then raised to Nuteruhotep's face and narrowed.
The Steward of Amun had followed the Nubian guard into the room and, like the Nubian, had come to a dead stop, his eyes wide, his chest rising and falling with the swiftness of fear. He looked around the room, caught sight of Wenatef, and strode forward with an appearance of confidence, but with his shoulders slightly hunched, darting sideways glances, seeking enemies.
He stopped before Wenatef and looked him over with angry hauteur. "I was summoned to you," he said. "I am unused to this. Who are you?"
Wenatef inclined his head to the man and then addressed the guard. "You won�t be needed for a time," he said. "You may leave for now."
The Nubian bowed and left.
Wenatef turned his attention back to Nuteruhotep. "Steward of Amun," he said, "You�ve been summoned to answer for your actions in the Valley of the Kings."
Nuteruhotep's arm jerked once, then he was still, but with a rigidity that had not been there before. "What do you mean?" he asked. "Is it that I inquired about building a tomb? But that would be somewhere besides the Valley of the Kings! Negotiations aren�t complete at any rate. And what business it is of yours is beyond my understanding! And now I am a busy man with little time for bumptious persons like yourself." He turned on his heel and started toward the door.
"You are not dismissed," Wenatef said.
Nuteruhotep whirled and stared at him. "What did you say?" he demanded.
"I said that you aren�t dismissed," Wenatef said gently.
"You make it sound as though I am on trial," Nuteruhotep snapped.
"You are," Wenatef said. "You face grave charges. You have been granted a hearing - "
"Before you, I suppose!"
"Before me," Wenatef agreed. "There are others who will hear you and judge. Can't you feel them around you even as we speak?"
Nuteruhotep's eyes shifted to the corners of the room and then returned to Wenatef. "You�re quite mad," he said. "There is no one here but you, and no one to force me to stay."
The Steward of Amun turned and took a step toward the door, and then halted as though dragged to a stop by a powerful hand. He was very pale when he turned back to Wenatef. "Pretending that there is a tribunal reviewing my actions," he said, " - which I don�t for a moment admit - what charges do you bring against me?"
"I charge you, Nuteruhotep, with conspiring to rob the tombs in the Valley of the Kings. I charge you with the crime of bringing Khaemwase of Koptos to Thebes for that purpose. I charge you with the crime of receiving and selling stolen grave-goods - "
Two spots of color rode high on Nuteruhotep's cheekbones as his lips blanched white. He was silent as he paced to the door again, but he made no attempt to leave. His hands were clenched behind his back, but his expression was calm once more. "Who has told you these lies?" he asked quietly.
"Khaemwase of Koptos himself for one," Wenatef answered. "Seneb of the Necropolis Guard for another. You�re convicted by their testimony, and there�ll be others. There is no escape for you."
"Khaemwase is a thief and a murderer!" Nuteruhotep exclaimed.
"All the more reason to question your involvement with the man," Wenatef said.
Nuteruhotep's eyes narrowed.
"Let�s not bandy words, Steward of Amun," Wenatef said, leaning forward. "I have Khaemwase in my custody and I have Seneb of the Necropolis Guard. There is other evidence as well. You�re lost. There is nothing about your movements that is not known."
Nuteruhotep came back to Wenatef and frowned at him, his hand hovering at the hilt of his dagger. "Then why did you summon me?" he asked.
"To give you a chance to defend yourself," Wenatef answered.
"And who are you to judge me?" Nuteruhotep demanded.
"I am the one appointed by those whose tombs are lying open and defiled. I have been judged and justified, and I come from the West to slay the defilers and the evil ones. It was through me that Seneb and Khaemwase were captured. I have the information that will convict you, and it�s been given to those who judge you. But there is still a chance to speak in your own behalf."
"To you?"
"To me. There are others who will hear, as I said before."
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