City of the Dead by T. L. Higley Read Free Book Online

often of your brilliance. I see you are passionate as well.”
    A loud laugh echoed from the front of the house. Then, “Neferet!”
    Neferet dropped her brush onto a palette and clapped her hands twice with the glee of a little girl. “My father is home. Come, join us for a meal.”
    I bit back an indignant reply. Her invitation was somewhat inappropriate—a vizier did not typically take his meals with laborers.
    Senosiris lumbered into the courtyard and I stood. The man’s eyes narrowed as he took me in, standing beside his daughter. “What’s this?”
    Neferet glided forward and wrapped her arms around her father’s thick neck in a quick embrace which he returned. “You have a visitor. Shall I serve the meal here?”
    Senosiris looked me up and down. “I do not think it is the grand vizier’s practice—”
    “I would be honored to taste whatever it is I smelled when I entered,” I said and rubbed the back of my neck.
    Senosiris held a palm out to Neferet and she smiled and drifted out of the courtyard, jewelry still clinking melodies and hair swinging. When she had disappeared into the passageway, I returned my gaze to her father. I found the older man watching me with an amused smile.
    “I have news for you, Senosiris,” I began.
    He gestured to the bench. “Call me Sen, please. I prefer to leave off the god’s name.”
    Sen dropped beside me, crowding me on the stone bench. But his wide girth matched his wide smile, and I sensed immediately why he was revered.
    “What news?” He sat forward slightly, his hands braced against his knees.
    “By now you have heard of Mentu’s crossing to the west.”
    Sen sighed and studied Neferet’s colorful wall. “He was a good man.”
    “Yes. Well.” I swallowed hard. “His death leaves a gap in management that must be filled. I want you to take over as overseer of construction.”
    “Me?” Sen bellowed out a laugh and slapped my back. My skin stung under the weight of his hand. “I’m not one of your circle, Vizier.”
    “I know. But I believe you are the best man for the position.”
    Neferet returned, hugging a clay pot to her chest and carrying small red bowls with the tips of her fingers. She lowered the pot to a nearby table and a garlic aroma wafted around us.
    Sen said, “The grand vizier wants me to be overseer of construction, Neferet.”
    She smiled and ladled steaming stew into our bowls. “Of course. Who else?”
    Sen accepted the bowl she held out. “I am too old. It is for younger men to be ambitious, to advance.”
    “I need your experience,” I said.
    Neferet offered me a bowl and I felt her smile alight on me, as quick and ethereal as a butterfly. Her hair swung forward when she leaned toward me.
    I dug into my food and found the meat flavored with a peppery sauce that watered my eyes.
    Sen chewed and swallowed, then spoke. “I have enough to occupy my time, Hemiunu. My family, my community. I enjoy these simple pursuits. I am a simple man.”
    I set my bowl on the table. “Exactly why I want to see you in this position, Sen. Your men love and respect you. You are one of them. They will work hard for you.”
    “If that is true, then I lead by your example, Grand Vizier. You are also much revered.” Sen lowered his head, and it surprised me how his admiration warmed me. “You come to me before Mentu’s body has even grown cold,” he said. “You must be desperate.”
    My emotions dwelt too near the surface today. I stood and moved to the center of the courtyard, where I stripped a frond of leaves from an acacia tree and rolled the leaves between my fingers. With my back to Sen, I let the choking feeling in my throat subside. “Mentu’s death grieves me greatly. I would not have you think me indifferent. But the project must not be allowed to falter. We must bear our grief privately, and the work must go on.”
    Neferet appeared beside me, and she pried the crushed leaves from my hand, let them flutter to the ground, and