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Authors: Chris McGowan

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BOOK: ABACUS
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Chapter 32: Tomb Robber

Nehy's funeral was the highlight of the social calendar and everyone who was anyone received an invitation. Naturally, that excluded mere wabs, but AP was the priestess's wab, so there were no objections to his attending. Nor were there any objections to his being at her side throughout the ceremony, even though many important people wanted to be seen in her company.

“That's the Celestial Priestess,” whispered one guest. “They say her powers are greater than those of the entire priesthood put together.”

“See how she wears the Pharaoh's gold,” whispered another, referring to Kate's stunning new necklace.

The necklace was one of many gifts the Pharaoh had given her to show his appreciation for the magnetic device. Visits to the palace were now commonplace and Ramesses II had become so attentive that Kate was beginning to feel uncomfortable in his company. Maybe she was being overly sensitive—any woman in Egypt would have gladly swapped places with her.

The funeral procession had set out from the Nehy estate just after sunrise. Tamit's house was in the same neighborhood, and AP had spent the previous night there so that he could attend. Leaving Tamit's house just before dawn, the Celestial Priestess and her wab were escorted to a special viewing platform, reserved for the most important guests. Not even Tamit's father, the royal scribe, had been invited.

Dozens of servants led the procession, carrying refreshments for the guests. There were trays of bread and cakes, baskets of fruit, and racks of roast duck and beef. Thirsty guests could choose between water, beer, or wine. Some servants carried bouquets of flowers, adding splashes of color to the spectacle. Behind the refreshments came men carrying large boxes containing the vizier's provisions for his journey to the afterlife. Others followed carrying ceremonial items for his tomb.

“See that painted box?” asked AP, pointing toward one of the servants. “That contains the shabtis.”

“What's that?” queried Kate. They had to whisper to avoid being overheard. Anyone watching probably thought they were exchanging spiritual thoughts.

“Shabtis are small figures of servants. They're left in the tomb in case the dead person has to labor on the land in the afterlife—the shabtis do the work for him!”

“So what's with all the furniture those guys behind him are carrying? They've even got a chariot.”

“Those are the things he needs in the afterlife. The Egyptians believe the person comes back to life in the other world and carries on doing the same things as before.”

Kate nodded.

“That's why those scribes are carrying all those scrolls and writing supplies. Nehy was the vizier, dealing with the law and government.”

Mourners followed the scribes—family members, friends, fellow officials and servants. Behind them came two teams of men pulling on ropes, hauling a wooden sled with Nehy's stone statue. A priest walked in front of the life-size figure waving an incense burner, with two more priests on either side. Meanwhile, men darted between the priests with flagons of water which they poured onto the road ahead to help the sled to slide.

“That's got to be hard work,” whispered Kate “Why not use a wagon?”

“Maybe they can't build wheels strong enough to take such heavy loads. They use sleds for hauling massive statues across the desert too.”

Nehy's sarcophagus, the last and most important part of the procession, followed behind. Shaped like a person and elaborately painted with symbols and hieroglyphs, it lay on a ceremonial boat that was being hauled on a second sled.

The priest walking in front of the sarcophagus had a leopard skin draped over his shoulder, showing he was a sem-priest.

“He's in charge of the burial ceremony,” said AP. “Sem-priests spend a lot of time at the House of Embalming and Purification. They're responsible for performing all the mummification and tomb rituals.”

“That explains why I've not seen one at the temple.”

Following closely behind the sled were a dozen young women, weeping and wailing hysterically. Their cries could be heard above the noise of the hundreds of spectators lining the route.

“Who are they?” asked Kate.

“They're professional mourners. When they've finished here they could be going on to another funeral.”

The Celestial Priestess and her wab, together with the other special guests, followed along at the end of the procession, which took over an hour to make its way through the town and down to the Nile. There, a fleet of boats was waiting to take everyone across to the other side. Getting the people aboard took some time. Meanwhile, the heavy sarcophagus was loaded onto a ceremonial boat filled with flowers.

“I bet Mum and Dad's trip along the Nile will be nothing like this,” said AP under his breath. “Have you ever seen anything like it?”

They gazed across at the bobbing flotilla of boats, all loaded to capacity with people and goods. One boat even had a team of oxen aboard, for hauling the sleds when they reached the other side. Every so often, the professional mourners broke out into a somber chant, which carried across the still air. The crossing was slow, and the boatmen had to pull hard on their oars.

“Look at all that silt,” said AP, pointing at the brown water. “That comes all the way from Africa.” Kate wasn't listening.

As the west bank drew closer, they noticed there were far few buildings than on the other side. Rolling hills filled the foreground, shimmering in a heat haze. And beyond the hills—which they would soon have to climb—were mountains.

* * *

“How much farther?” Kate complained. “And how much steeper is it going to get?”

Some of the older people looked too exhausted to continue. Servants moved up and down the column with jugs of water. Some of the guests had already started into the wine and beer. A troop of dancers and musicians led the procession, their lively antics and music standing in contrast to the solemnity of the occasion.

Eventually the procession came to a halt. They had arrived at the necropolis. Generations of workers had labored for years cutting tombs into the cliffs for the burial of important people.

“Now what?” asked Kate.

“It's time for the Opening of the Mouth ceremony.

“Does that mean lunch?”

“Afraid not,” said AP, whose stomach was also rumbling. “It's going to be performed on the mummy.”

“What happens?”

“The sem-priest will touch the mummy's face with a special forked rod. That allows the dead person to do all the things they did before, like eating, speaking and moving.”

As Kate and AP made their way forward for a better view, people dropped back to let the Celestial Priestess pass. Everyone bowed, and some even reached out just to touch her.

The priests had removed the mummy from its outer cases and propped it, upright, beside the tomb. Forked rod in one hand, incense burner in the other, the sem-priest slowly approached, as if afraid the mummy might come to life. He then began chanting and reciting prayers, after which he tapped the mummy's face with the rod. He did this twice more and the ceremony was complete.

“Once the mummy's back in the sarcophagus it'll be placed in the burial chamber, along with all the other stuff,” AP began, “then the priests will take the family members down there.”

“Us too, remember,” added Kate.

“I'm not likely to forget that! What a fantastic opportunity. If you hadn't become so famous, there's no way we'd see inside an Egyptian tomb.”

“And if you hadn't conjured up the magic, I wouldn't be famous. I'd have been exposed as a fraud.”

Using ropes, a group of men lowered the sarcophagus into the burial chamber through a vertical shaft. Then servants began carrying all the other items into the tomb, using a spiral staircase cut into the side of the shaft. Meanwhile family members, accompanied by specially invited guests, viewed the above-ground part of the tomb.

“Imagine doing this with hand tools,” said AP gazing at the huge cavern chiseled out of the rock. “The walls and ceiling are perfectly flat and smooth.”

Kate was marveling at the mystical paintings. “Thoth,” she said, pointing to the ibis-headed god of wisdom. “And the goddess with the round headpiece and horns is Hathor.”

“You won't forget her!” said AP, smiling. Then, glancing around, he asked if she was feeling lonely.

“What?”

“I just thought you might be missing your bodyguard, that's all.”

“Oh, I see what you mean,” said Kate. “He was really upset when they told him the tomb visit was strictly by invitation. Anyway, nothing can happen to me in here.”

Soon people began making their way toward the spiral staircase leading to the tomb. Kate and AP wanted to explore some more.

“We'd better get back,” said AP some minutes later. “We mustn't miss the tomb.”

The staircase was poorly lit and the steps steep, so they had to watch their footing. The farther they descended the dimmer it got, and when they reached the bottom they were in darkness. A guide appeared with a burning torch and led the way to the burial chamber. As their eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, they realized they were alone. The other visitors had all left.

The tomb was smaller than they expected and was so crammed that they had to pick their way slowly, to avoid tripping over things. A lone torch was mounted on the opposite wall. In its flickering light, they could see a mystical painting at the far end, above the sarcophagus.

“Let's check it out,” said Kate. She was no longer whispering because the guide, probably out of respect for their privacy, had disappeared.

“That's Anubis, the jackal guy,” she said, recognizing the god of the dead. “But what's he doing with that set of scales?”

“He's weighing the dead person's heart against a feather. The feather represents the truth, and it's a test to see whether the person lived a truthful life. This is his day of judgment.”

“What about that ugly looking thing crouched beneath the scales? It looks like some sort of crocodile monster.”

“That's exactly what it is,” said AP. “If the person fails the test it chomps down their heart. Then they can't go to the afterlife.”

Kate noticed four large containers in front of the sarcophagus. Made of stone, they had carved animal heads for stoppers. “What are they?”

“Canopic jars. They contain the organs removed from the body.”

Kate groaned. “It's all so spooky,” she said, watching the shadows flickering on the walls. “Let's get out of here.”

Turning their backs on the painting and the sarcophagus, they started groping their way back toward the shaft.

“I'll go first,” said AP, taking the lead. “I'll feel my way. Just stick close behind me.”

Kate never saw the bony hands that reached out from the shadows. Grabbing her from behind, they dragged her down. She would have screamed, except one of the hands was clamped tightly across her mouth. Her legs were still free though, and the scuffling of her feet on the stone floor alerted her brother.

“Kate!” he shouted. “What's happening?”

“Stay just where you are!” snapped a voice from somewhere near the sarcophagus. “Do as I tell you and your sister will be safe.” AP immediately recognized the voice.

“Let her go!” shouted AP, trying to sound intimidating. “She's done nothing to you.”

“Oh, but I think she has,” the voice replied calmly. “If I'm not mistaken, she has my chronoverser.”

“No she doesn't!” yelled AP defiantly. “I've got it. And if you want it back you'll have to come and get it!”

“You're lying,” replied Snakebite, still sounding relaxed. “I've already checked you over, and the house where you're staying. I didn't find it, did I?” He chuckled. “No, I'm quite sure your big sister has it, probably around her neck. Let's just see.” The struggling sounds became frantic.

“Here's proof I have it,” shouted AP. “Look!”

While Snakebite had been holding his sister, AP had pulled the abacus from his kilt and tied it to a chair. He now pressed the white button, illuminating the screen with the world map.

That got Snakebite's attention! AP then ducked behind an ebony cabinet and started feeling his way back toward the sarcophagus—he didn't have far to go.

“Stay where you are and do not let go of the chronoverser. Remember, I have your sister.” Snakebite's disembodied voice sounded quietly menacing. Then, turning to Kate, he hissed, “If you ever want to see your brother again, stay where you are and be quiet. Understood?”

Kate nodded, and her attacker was gone.

Laying on the cold hard floor, eyes and ears straining into the gloom, she could hear Snakebite's footsteps—and his curses as he bumped into things. Then everything went deathly quiet. All she could hear was her own breathing.

Several things then happened in rapid succession. There was a dull thud and a loud groan, followed by a crash and the sound of breaking pottery. Moments later the air was filled with the most disgusting smell.

“Come on, Kate!” shouted AP, grabbing her hand. “Let's get out of here.”

The bottom of the staircase was in complete darkness, so they had to grope on all fours to find the first step. Kate kept glancing over her shoulder, expecting to see Snakebite, but all she saw was blackness.

“We'll never find our way out of here,” she whimpered. “He's going to get us!”

“No he won't,” said AP resolutely.

Then he found the first step and they threw themselves up the stairs.

Half a minute later they were standing in the courtyard, panting and blinking in the sunlight.

In their absence, the servants had set out a magnificent buffet. Everyone was too busy feasting to notice their belated arrival—everyone, that is, except Kate's bodyguard. He looked enormously relieved.

BOOK: ABACUS
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