Free The Assassins of Isis by P. C. Doherty Page B

tables. No trace of any horned viper could be found. Yet within an hour of his household leaving him, General Suten
was heard screaming in terror. When his servants returned to the roof terrace they found a swarm of horned vipers. I ask, my lord, how could so many snakes appear on a roof terrace unless put there deliberately?’
    Amerotke nodded in agreement. Now the three principal members of General Suten’s household took the oath. Lady Lupherna spoke first. She was a small, comely woman with a delicate, pretty face. Amerotke had to ask her to speak louder so the rest of the court could hear. She was followed by Chief Scribe Menna, a strong, harsh-faced man who spoke bluntly and to the point. Finally came slender, thin-faced Heby, who kept plucking nervously at his robe as he described how he had guarded the steps leading up to the roof terrace.
    Amerotke moved on swiftly. Other witnesses, servants and retainers were called. Valu kept his main thrust of attack very clear: General Suten had hated snakes. On the night he had been murdered - Valu deliberately used that word - Suten had dined with his wife, chief scribe and valet on the roof terrace. They had eaten dishes of fish and drunk beer and wine before General Suten declared he would continue writing his memoirs, a favourite pastime, which he hoped to present to the Divine One. Before they had retired, Menna, Lupherna and Heby, along with other servants, helped the general search the roof terrace for signs of any snake. Of course, none was found. The household left and General Suten returned to his memoirs, with Heby guarding the stairs. Suten’s screams had been heard, the household was roused, but there was nothing to be done. They had contacted a member of the local Medjay, Standard-Bearer Nadif, who had hurried in to help. Nadif too gave evidence, in a clear, strong voice, about his surprise at how General Suten had died.
    â€˜There is,’ Valu finished, spreading his hands, ‘only one conclusion. Those horned vipers were placed there deliberately.’

    â€˜How?’ Amerotke queried
    Valu smirked. ‘A question I keep asking myself. Could they have been thrown from another roof? That’s impossible, there is no other building. The mansion stood in its own grounds. Could they have been hoisted up from a window below? But the rooms below were occupied by others; such a task would have attracted attention. There is only one way those horned vipers could have been brought to the roof terrace: by the steps. The only person on those steps that night, a man who by his own confession never left his post, was Heby.’
    Amerotke gazed at Heby, who put his fingers to his face and moaned, staring around at his companions for help.
    â€˜Why should I do that?’ he wailed, ignoring the shouts of the court ushers to keep silent. ‘I loved my master. I always guarded the stairs, I never saw or heard anything amiss, not until my master’s screams rang out.’
    Amerotke raised a hand for silence. The valet was clearly terrified. If he was convicted, he would die a hideous death out in the Red Lands, bound to a thorn bush and burnt to death.
    â€˜The court must answer the question,’ Valu pressed his point, ‘why should a general with an obvious and understandable hatred for snakes be found dead on his roof terrace with horned vipers curling all about him, bitten at least fifteen times, a roof terrace which, according to everyone, was scrupulously searched for even the smallest snake? Can horned vipers fly?’ Valu paused at the ripple of laughter his words provoked. ‘Can at least two score of them crawl up the walls of a house without being noticed? Perhaps someone in the garden was able to hurl them up?’ Valu clapped his hands softly. ‘Such explanations are foolish. There is only one answer: Heby placed them there.’
    â€˜But why?’ Amerotke asked. He turned to the valet. ‘Heby, how long