8
Chapter Eight
Neti and Shabaka walked side by side behind the young woman, who visibly slowed as they neared her home. They remained silent, both tired from the long evening and their travels. Had the matter not been as pressing, and had it not been for Neti’s experience with all matters of death, Shabaka would have suggested for Neti to get some rest, as he, too, felt he needed some.
Aya led them past several larger houses, nothing in comparison to Shabaka’s parents’ palace, but large enough to indicate that those residing there were fortunate. They continued along the pathway, which widened considerably. There were several people moving along the trail, some even stopped to watch them pass. Many recognized Shabaka and respectfully bowed their heads in acknowledgement, while curiously gazing at the women accompanying him.
A large wall appeared before them with a gateway flanked by two statues, and even though they were not as grand as those of a palace, they were indication enough that their owner held a considerable fortune. Aya led them towards the entrance, and Neti took a moment to look at the two statues. She did not recognize them, because they were unlike those of the Egyptian nobles or gods she knew, yet they held some resemblance to them.
Shabaka noting her interest, came to stand next to her, “They represent luck or fortune and knowledge”, he said, pointing at each in turn.
Neti turned to look at him, nodding grateful before passing through the gate and into the garden beyond. Having expected at least some grandeur, she was not surprised. Although the garden did not have cultivated lawns as one would find in a palace, it did have an array of smaller well-kept vegetable gardens and orchards, with several servants tending to them.
“We grow most of our food and herbs, and much of it is used as payment to the servants, who in turn barter it for what they need.”
Neti and Shabaka continued along the path and passed yet another statue, which Neti again stopped to look at. She could identify it as an animal but was not able to distinguish whether it was a calf, a donkey or a horse, but it was a huge animal of sorts and as large as three full-grown men.
“My husband commissioned it”, Aya began, “it is supposed to be a horse. The man who carved it was well skilled, but the stone is brittle and broke off too easily. My husband accepted the work, stating that its uniqueness set it apart from all others and that there would be no other like it in all of Egypt.
“Your husband enjoys having such extraordinary things?” Neti asked.
“Yes, he does. He believes that if one has done well for themselves, they should be willing to display it.”
“And you feel the same?”
“I grew up in a poor home, I am more likely to keep things together, but as you can see we are graced with abundance”, Aya said gesturing to the garden.
“Yes I can see that, but do you know of anyone who may have taken offence at your husband’s obvious wealth, and him putting it on display”, Neti ventured to ask.
“Not that I know of. Many traders come to him for guidance, assistance and to secure goods for trade.”
“And he helps them?”, Shabaka asked.
“Yes. He has no reason not to. He always believed that good fortune follows good deeds”, Aya replied before they continued along the path, towards a large building a bit off to one side. There were several others visible and Neti looked at Shabaka as they walked. She had no idea what to say, she had never imagined that a person other that the pharaoh could hold such wealth. She stopped for a moment to look at the large building she presumed to be the home, although all of the buildings seemed similar in appearance. The one before them had a series of extensions and several wooden doors.
Aya stopped and looked at it before turning back to look at them, “There are sixteen rooms within the home, with rooms for the servants in a smaller building to the side, near the stables. The other building is the storage area for the goods my husband is to move and there are holding areas for exotic animals.”
“You have exotic animals on the premises?” Shabaka asked. He knew that the pharaoh kept a zoo of his own and often commissioned new animals, but he had not thought that a trader would ever need to build special holding areas as well.
“Not at the moment”, Aya replied, “But my husband has moved lions, a leopard and a zebra for the Egyptian pharaoh. The holding pens still serve a purpose but now usually smaller animals kept there, hyena, warthogs and antelopes. My husband allows other traders to use them for a fee, but we have no animals in them at the moment. That part of the property is kept under guard --”
“You have guards?”, Shabaka interrupted her.
“Yes, but not trained ones from the palace…”, Aya replied, “...they are simple men who scream alarm if someone trespasses. They are trained in hand-to-hand combat, but they are not skilled with weapons. Most disturbances we have had have been for food. It is difficult, you see, because there are four entrances to the property. This one is the main entry to the home and there is one on the far side that allows access to the pathway going to the river. Our water is brought through there and it is also the entrance closest to the servants housing. There is also an entrance to the storage areas where the traders go. And then there is the special passage to make managing and moving the exotic animals easier.” Aya turned towards them, “We have three foremen who see to the caravans. And Rameke, my husband’s oldest son, has recently taken over most of the transportation of goods.”
“And he enjoys doing this?” Shabaka asked.
“It seems so. He has changed so much since his mother was removed.”
“She was the woman who was stoned?”, Neti asked.
“Yes, she was, but he knew nothing of it, he was just as surprised as the rest of us when he found out about her attempts to kill my husband. He has since become a very amiable young man. He took to the trade as his father had, although my husband does not want him to be anywhere near me. I fear he may blame me for his mother’s capture, and my husband is only too familiar with the vindictive nature of his first wife, he fears that her son may have inherited that trait.”
“And your husband has never considered that he could possibly wish him harm?”, Shabaka asked.
Aya again shook her head, “Ever since he was a boy, Rameke has been fond of his father and often wanted to help him with the business, but his mother had always kept him away.”
For all appearance, there seemed to be nothing troubling the home or the people who worked and lived within the garden’s walls. Neti did not have enough time to properly make out the carvings on the main wooden door, before it was flung open. The woman who stood in the doorway had a stern look in her face. Neti took her to be one of the servants, as she looked them over and her eyes rested on Neti for a moment. She was of average height and had a dark skin. Her expression changed, once she recognized Shabaka, and she knelt in greeting, “My Prince.”
Shabaka gestured for her to stand up, but Neti did not miss the sidelong glance the woman bestowed her with before she addressed Aya in their own language leaving Neti confused as to the details of the conversation. All she could make out was that it somehow involved her.
There was a rapid exchange of words she could not understand between them before Shabaka firmly ended the exchange. Subsequently the woman in the doorway conceded and stepped out of the way.
“Neti, this is Kiya. She is responsible for maintaining the home”, Aya introduced the woman. The woman in turn only nodded her head and Neti, who thought it was best not to say anything, also nodded.
“What was that about?”, Neti asked Shabaka as they entered the building.
She noticed his hesitation before he replied, “She said that the old trader was not well enough to receive guests.”
“Do not lie to me.” Neti firmly replied.
“Lie to you? Why would I…” Shabaka began, but Neti interrupted.
“I saw your hesitation. They do not want me here, just as the servants at your house do not want me
there.”
Shabaka stopped and turned towards her with an astonished look on his face. He wanted to answer but she continued. “Do you think this is the first time in my life I have been treated this way? I am well aware of the distinction of classes, just as I am aware of the difference in people’s behavior towards me ever since I received this.” Neti said pointing to the sash that indicated that she belonged to the pharaoh’s people.
“But you have never said anything”, Shabaka replied.
“Because it does not matter, it would not make a difference. They have judged me even before they knew me. It is only my association with you and the pharaoh, which prevents them from telling it to my face.”
Shabaka looked at her, seemingly struck speechless.
Neti turned to follow Aya down the corridor. The atmosphere in the house was gloomy. Neti could feel that it was not just her presence that caused the tension lingering within these walls. It was dead silent in the house as if no one dared to even move much in order not to disturb the air itself. She could understand Aya’s description that it felt as if death lingered, for in all her years she had yet to enter a house with such an air about it.
“Do they know? The servants, I mean?” Neti asked, since she had not seen anybody other than Kiya.
Aya nodded, “They know he is dying, but they do not know why. They suspect it to be some curse and it may as well be, because none of us knows what to do and he gets weaker every day.”
“You have sought the advice of healers?”
“There is nothing they can do for him; they have no idea what kind of curse it is”, Aya said and stopped in front of another elaborately carved wooden door. Neti had not paid any attention to the trappings within the house, but when she looked back up the only adornment decoration in the corridor was a long woven mat in the floor. Neti looked at Aya who still stood in front of the door, seemingly reluctant to enter the room beyond.
Neti tilted her head, catching Aya’s gaze. “My husband believes in privacy, he always said that no harm could come to anyone who secluded themselves from others when they don’t have to leave the home.”
Neti nodded and gently asked, “Why are we waiting?”, when it became obvious that the woman was reluctant to enter the room.
Aya took a deep breath, as if collecting herself before turning to look at them in turn, “I find it increasingly difficult to enter his room. You must understand that he is not the man I married anymore, and it pains me to see him like this.”
Neti looked at Shabaka as the woman turned to open the door. She furrowed her brow because she could not understand how much anyone could have changed in a moon cycle – at most.
The door silently swung open and Aya led them into a large room. To Neti’s surprise it was not furnished with large pieces of furniture, although it was not spartan either. There were a number of small woven tapestries on the wall and the floor was covered with an intricately woven grass mat, which left only the farthest edges of the raw surface visible. Neti knew that just from its size it had taken a great amount of time to weave. As they moved father into the room a small bedside table with a lamp on it came into view. It was positioned next to a sturdy bed, and even from a distance she could tell that the sheets covering it were of a good quality fabric, possibly fine cotton, and several stools were placed around the room.
Movement on one side of the room drew her attention, because she had expected to be shown to the bed to address the man. She instead turned towards the movement and heard the man speak in a weak and almost hesitant voice. Her entire body felt cold at the sight of him. He addressed her wife and she could not understand what they said. She was grateful that she did not have to address the man, because she was certain she would not have been able to say anything sensible.
In all her life, with all that she had seen, nothing could have prepared her for the sight before her. Even her experience with the dead had not rendered her capable of processing the sight without some loss of composure. Her mind rejected the vision her eyes took in, yet it would not change. She knew that it could not be possible for such a thing to happen. Every fiber of her being urged her to turn away, to run from there, because whatever was affecting the man and the things still to come were going to change her life forever.
The others were talking and she picked up some animosity in Shabaka’s tone, but she didn’t question the reason, since her mind was still trying to make sense of what she saw.
The man, if she could even characterize him as such, was seated on a stool lined with several pillows, with a blanket draped over his legs and knee. His body was frail, and gaunt. He looked like a mummy since his dark skin was similar to the color of a body after it was removed from natron and he could easily have been mistaken for one. His eyes were sunken and his skin tightly pulled over his face. Her gaze shifted to his hand, something she had always done, and noticed the prominent joints of his finger, and the slight tremble whenever he lifted them from where they rested. His eyes were the most frightening of all. Although they did not glisten with life, they did resemble the glazed stare of dead. They seemed soulless, as if his ba had already left his ka. Their expression, along with his appearance and the weakness of his voice frightened her. All her life she had felt comfortable around the dead, but she had never had to see someone so close to it. Her instincts told her that there was something dark and sinister happening here. There was a power, some kind of magic for which she had no experience and no desire to engage with. She wasn’t even sure if all the spells in the book of the dead and those contained within the book of gates could rescue this man’s soul.
She froze in place as his gaze moved over her. His eyes narrowed as he appeared to focus on her. She did not understand what he said, but deduced from Shabaka’s response that it was not to his liking, and his reply sounded stern.
The man then looked between Neti and Shabaka before he spoke again, his time in a language Neti could understand; “My prince and the Egyptian pharaoh’s prefect. I see that news of my fate has reached as far as Egypt and that the pharaoh has sent his best to my rescue.” The man’s voice broke and he coughed in order to regain it. “But it is futile, it cannot be changed, not even by the presence of a young woman, who I am supposed to believe is an embalmer…”, the last was snidely said before he continued, “…what? Is she here to speak of rituals and what awaits me after my death?”
Neti felt her anger rise, because like so many others he did not think she was capable enough, something many men seemed to think. Yet she refrained from responding to his words in a similar manner. She had suffered numerous such insults throughout her life, although no one had had the audacity to say it to her face. Once she had regained her composure, she wanted to speak but was interrupted by Shabaka.
“Dagi, the Egyptian pharaoh has requested that we seek you and inquire about the outstanding tithe. We only heard about your condition from your wife after our arrival in Syène.” The man looked at Shabaka in surprise.
Even Neti was irritated by the firm tone of his voice. It was the tone of someone who did not tolerate bad manners from another. “My partner here is not only a fellow prefect appointed by Ramesses and certified embalmer, but a friend and visitor to Syène by my invitation. She is also an embalmer who started her training as a young girl. Her knowledge of death and the human body has helped me on numerous occasions. I will not tolerate her being treated as anything other than an equal.”
The man looked visibly taken aback. His eyes widened to the point where Neti feared that his eyeball might fall from their sockets.
“Due to the request Ramesses has made, due to my position and your allegiance with him, we are no longer to simply inquire your whereabouts, but bound to investigate a threat made against you and to prevent its occurrence.”
“Threat?” The man questioningly replied, “It is not a threat, it is as real as you are. It will come to pass. Not once has he been wrong. Not once has he not been able to see what was going to happen
. Why would this be any different?”
“It is different because you have been forewarned, which means the necessary precautions can be taken. I have the authority of both pharaohs in this country; don’t you think that it is not within my power to prevent it from happening.”
Dagi looked at Shabaka and for a moment there was a spark in his eye, a glimpse of hope, which concerned Neti; because she knew that if he had surrendered himself to death the surely he would die, maybe not when that man had foretold, but not long thereafter. That fact alone irked her. She could not understand the need to torture someone with such a premonition, and the torture spilled over to everyone else around that person. She looked at Aya and noticed the hesitation on the young woman’s face, as if she was almost too afraid to hope that it might be prevented. It was almost as if it was easier for her to surrender to the fact that he was going to die.
“Your wife has given us an account of the history of your relationship with this man, what you have done for his family and the people around him. I cannot see any reason why he or any of them would wish you dead”, Shabaka continued, his tone more amiable this time.
“He does not work that way, he never asked for anything. What I did for those people was to appease my conscience. I benefited far more than he or any of his people have.”
Shabaka looked at Neti, who chose to remain silent and observe the exchange.
“What can you tell us about this man? This soothsayer?”
“There is not much to tell”, Dagi replied.
“Is there anyone who could want you dead? Anyone who would take advantage of your relationship to that man?” Shabaka pressed.
Dagi contemplated the question for a moment. “I have made numerous enemies in my time. There are those who are envious of what I have - those who covet what I have.” He looked at his young wife before continuing, “One of my own wives wanted me dead. Wherever a successful person goes, he will make enemies, if not for his success, it’s for the things he possesses.”
The Forgotten Papyrus (The Mummifier's Daughter Series Book 5) Page 8