Free A Vile Justice by Lauren Haney

the young nobleman a wry smile. "My horses, a worthy team but creatures of no discernment whatsoever, were content with the lean-to where my father housed his donkey."
    A brief smile lit Ineni's face. He stepped around Bak and led the way down the dimly fit corridor. Each stall, built of mudbrick with an arched ceiling, would have held two horses. Now the wooden gates were gone, as were the leather trappings that had hung from the walls and the chariots that had stood in the yard outside. The building had been swept clean and nothing remained but a few bits of straw, traces of grain, and dark stains on the hard-packed earthen floor, which still gave off a faint odor of manure. A waste it was, agreed Bak, an abomination to allow so useful a building to lie idle.
    "I came here often as a child," Ineni said. "The horses were some of the finest in Kemet, the stallion from the faroff land of Hatti. They were beautiful, spirited, the stuff of dreams. I longed to become a charioteer." He stooped, picked up a straw, and stuck it in the corner of his mouth. "But the gods stepped in, and now I'm a farmer." He laughed-at himself, Bak felt sure. "Don't misunderstand. The life of a farmer suits me. I manage my father's fields with a skill not many men can claim."
    Bak was surprised. Not because Ineni's family had an estate, perhaps more than one, at a distance from Abu. Most noblemen lived off the labor of those who toiled on land far from the cities where they spent most of their days. Not one in a thousand would call himself a farmer.
    "What happened to the horses?" he asked.
    "When my father took this villa as his own, he had me move them to our estate in Nubt, a half day's sail north of here. They're there yet, as are their descendants."
    Bak paused in front of an empty stall and asked with reluctance, fearing the answer, "What happened to the horse that took Lieutenant Dedi's life?"
    "I ... " Ineni hesitated, then evaded the question. "My father ordered me to have it slain."
    Bak eyed the young farmer closely. "Did you obey?" Getting no answer, glimpsing defiance in Ineni's downcast eyes, he said, "Horses were my life for more than eight years, Ineni. I cherished my team, and if anyone had suggested I slay them, I'd've cut off my hand first, the hand I use to thrust my spear."
    Ineni's eyes darted to Bak's face, searching for a lie. Evidently satisfied, he glanced toward the open doorway and lowered his voice lest anyone hear. "As soon as I took the poor, terrified beast out of the stall, away from the scent of death, he quieted. My father had insisted he was mad, but I could see he'd simply been consumed by fear. I had him taken that night to our estate in Nubt, and there he will remain, alive and well. My father need never know."
    Bak nodded approval. "He'll not hear the tale from me." They reached the end of the corridor and turned back, sharing the silence and a vision of the stable as once it had been. Somewhere in the dark, a cat growled. A half-grown rat shot out of a stall and down the passageway a pace ahead of a huge orange tomcat. As the rodent raced into the sunlight outside the door, the cat leaped with a ferocious snarl. Clamping its teeth into its kicking and squeaking prey, it trotted off.
    "Why, do you believe, was Hatnofer slain?" Bak asked. Ineni gave a short bark-like laugh, rending their brief camaraderie. "You surprise me, Lieutenant. You told us yesterday, did yoW not, that the next to die would be one who walked close to my father. Have you since decided you erred?"
    Bak chose to ignore the sarcasm. "She died because of her importance in this household, of that I've no doubt, but you are equally important. As are Amonhotep, Antef, Simut, and Amethu. Why was she chosen over the rest of you?"
    "I see no mystery there. She was small and no longer young. And she walked alone into an empty building, easy prey."
    Bak opened the gate to the govemor's compound and glanced into the yard containing the well. Two young