The Forgotten Papyrus (The Mummifier's Daughter Series Book 5)

by Nathaniel Burns

  They entered a smaller assembly room, where an adolescent boy was seated on a cushion. On their approach, he quickly leapt up and bowed to her, “Good morning, Neti-Kerty”, he said in Egyptian. His address was heavy accented but she understood him well enough.

  “Good morning”, she replied, grateful that there was someone whom she could speak with.

  The boy looked at her for a while and tilted his head. He was dressed in a loincloth and although not yet fully grown he was already well built.

  “I see you do not remember me, but I understand. I have grown a lot since we last met.” The young man said.

  Neti shook her head as she replied. “Yes I must admit, I do not recognize you.” Trying to remember where she might have met him, or how he had come to know her name.

  “I am Prince Hazim, eldest son of Prince Azar. My father spoke to you during your visit to the Egyptian pharaoh.”

  Neti suddenly felt a jolt shoot through her, because the young man before her had significantly changed from the boy who had engaged with Shabaka in stick fighting.

  “You are right; I would not have recognized you. You really have grown. Do you still practice your stick fighting?”

  “It is every young man’s duty to be the best stick fighter he can be”, Hazim replied with a serious tone in his voice, “…but that is not the reason why I am here. Shabaka requested that I escort you. I am the best versed in Egyptian currently at the palace.”

  “Is your family here?”, Neti asked.

  “No, my father and mother are out of town. My brother and I had to stay home for our studies and training, but they will be back soon. They will be ever so happy to see Shabaka again.”

  “Where is Shabaka?”, Neti asked, thankful that the conversation had shifted to him.

  The boy turned to look out the window, as if establishing the height of the sun, which Neti found to be alarmingly high in the sky already

  “He will still be at the training yard, watching the stick dancers. He has asked me to take you there when you are ready.”

  Neti nodded and Hazim showed her the way. Along the way he pointed out certain features, which he said would help her find her way around on her own.

  The rhythmic bashing of sticks and the grunts of men filled the air long before Neti and Hazim entered the training grounds. The men seemed to move as one as they went through a series of exercises. Neti watched them in amazement as their dark skin glistened with sweat, yet it was easy to distinguish Shabaka moving between them as he had his full robe on and seemed more intent on observing the men than participating. She recalled the time at Pi-Ramesses where she had watched him and Hazim. Even with his injured shoulder he had moved fluently to show Hazim certain techniques. She knew not how well he was trained, but she knew that just as Hazim felt compelled to be the best at it, Shabaka, too, must have spent a considerable amount of time training in that very yard.

  Considering the disclosure Menwi had made the previous evening, she understood why he would be reluctant to train with the others. She knew of the injuries Ma-Nefer had inflicted, and assumed there had to be marks. She knew that Shabaka would never tell what he had been exposed to, at least not until all the scars had healed – even those in his mind. She knew his pride all too well, and his desire to always appear formidable and just. At times it had been those very traits that frustrated her. There had been times she wished that he could see himself as she did.

  A few of the men faltered, seeming to misstep and miscalculate as she walked into the training yard. Several of them turned to look at her as she approached, which in turn had several of the commanders harshly reprimand them. Whatever was said she could not understand, but it seemed to be effective as they quickly returned to their position.

  The incident alone was enough to cause Shabaka to look her way. He nodded in greeting and started to move to the front of the line, where he called the commanders to the fore. The men stopped upon his command and stood at attention, their sticks held in both hands diagonally in front of them.

  He addressed the commanders who in turn went to address their men, while he made his way over to Neti and Hazim.

  “Morning”, he greeted with a friendly tone.

  Neti nodded her head in acknowledgement. “Good morning. Why did you not wake me up earlier? We have a lot to do.”

  “I did not deem it necessary to disturb your sleep. You were tired and there was nothing that could not be arranged during your absence.

  “There is a man who has been threatened, we cannot afford to be so lax on that matter”, she said with an exasperated sigh. “There is so much we still have to do and we have so little time.”

  “Neti, calm down. I have everything under control. I have sent some of the best men to Dagi’s house. They will ensure his safety and of those within the house. I have instructed them to allow no one other than the members of the household to enter or leave the house. They will also observe those who arrive on the premises for trading. The scouts have been sent out to collect several of the young men to partake in a tournament here”, Shabaka said pointing to the assembled guard before her, but before she could object to something as trivial as that or question its necessity, Shabaka continued. “…I have instructed them to include Dagi’s son. He will think less of it if he is brought to the palace for a stick match, than he would if he was brought here on his own for questioning. I do not want to alarm anyone into thinking we are providing more than guards for Dagi’s home.”

  Neti nodded at this.

  “I have also called a tribunal to address the concerns of the craftsmen and those who have lodged complaints. The footmen were given instruction to address the traders, craftsmen and citizens in this respect. They will also be on the lookout for the young trader Aya has identified as having an interest in her.”

  “You think he may be involved?”

  “I cannot say, but I understand the desire to get rid of one’s competitor when it comes to the affection of a woman. There is little a man would not consider.”

  For a moment Neti was taken aback by Shabaka’s honesty, as well as the certainty with which he had spoken. But she was prevented from commenting as he continued, “…they should be bringing in the participants of the tournament soon. I have added the lure of an invitation to the stick fight festival to those who manage to beat one of the palace guards this morning.”

  “And you think he will come?” Neti asked. She didn’t want to waste time.

  “Yes, he will, it is a great achievement to be granted access to the festival as a contender, because only the best are invited. He would not be a Nubian if he refused.”

  Neti nodded. She suddenly understood that it was a matter of tribal maybe even male pride, rather than personal desire. Although there was one matter which still concerned her, “What of the beast? Have you given it any consideration?”

  Shabaka lowered his voice as he answered. “That was more difficult to arrange, as there are no restrictions on what animals can be kept. There are several people who might own dangerous animals, therefore I have sent out men to ensure that all dangerous animals are in secure stables. If not, they are to be secured or will be confiscated and taken care of until their owners have proper cages for them.”

  “And the owners won’t complain?”

  “I will simply say that citizens have voiced their concern about dangerous animals.”

  “And that would be reason enough?”

  “They know not to question a member of the royal. We take the safety of our people very seriously. Besides, doing so alone may prevent whoever is planning this from proceeding with his plans.”

  “I see you have little need for me then”, Neti said, fighting the uneasy sensation that filled her chest.

  “On the contrary, you are of great need and assistance. You see, if I had arranged all such events on my return my people would have thought I was mad. But with you here, they will only see it as a means to impress you. The entire city knows of your arriv
al and your allegiance with Ramesses, thus they do not know if you were sent here to check on our methods of managing everything while my father is away. They do not know the real reason for us being here, hence securing the animals will not alarm them.”

  “And you have no problem with deceiving them like that?”

  “I am not deceiving them. The tribunal is real; the concerns voiced within it will be addressed. The stick tournament this morning is no different from any other; I am simply using it and your presence to aid our investigation.”

  Neti nodded, “And you have done all this while I was sleeping.”

  “It was a simple task ad it served as conformation of their suspicions that I want to impress you. Besides, I have not done it on my own. Here I have many at my command and no one will question me.” He said, gesturing to the men who were moving away from them. Neti watched as they retook their positions around a marked area, forming a boundary on three sides.

  “That is where the stick dances will take place.”

  “Stick dances?”

  “They are just like a stick fight, but their goal is not to inflict injury on one’s opponent, but to outsmart and outmaneuver them. It is a test which allows us to identify those with skill.”

  “And your father will not be angered?”

  “What have I done that is not within my powers as a prince during the absence of the king?”

  Neti nodded as she realized he was right, but was prevented from saying anything else as a group of young men entered the training grounds.

  They walked behind two of the palace attendants and lined up in front of them. Hazim moved to join the line and Neti was surprised to find him as tall as the others. There were six in total including Hazim, and they all bowed to her and Shabaka before turning towards the others, stepping forward until they reached the end of the marked area.

  Shabaka indicated to her to step closer to the area and when the two palace attendants appeared with stools, Shabaka invited her to join him as the captain came to stand beside him.

  On the man’s command two long sticks were produced and he called the first of his men forward. The young man stepped into the arena with his stick stopping several cubits from them, before bowing to Shabaka and Neti. The captain spoke with the man who looked over the contenders before him, finally pointing to the third one in line.

  The young man stepped forward and took the stick before also turning to bow to Neti and Shabaka and walking to the middle of the arena. The sudden beating of drums caught Neti by surprise and she looked to the side of the arena where she noticed a small group of drummers, who beat their drums in a steady rhythm. She turned her attention back to the arena, where the two young men had started circling each other.

  The first few strikes with the sticks were seemingly uncoordinated simple strikes to judge their opponent’s response. Afterwards, the sticks seemed to meet with a constant rhythm of their own. The beat seemed entrancing. The young men’s moments were fast and at time it did not appear as if their feet touched the ground. The beat of the drums increased in speed and soon enough the steps of their dance changed. At first one would be allowed to attack and the other to counter before the roles were be reversed.

  Neti watched as both opponents changed their attacks, at times barely managing to doge a strike from the other, but all in an attempt to tire out their challenger to get the ever desired first strike.

  The first victor was determined soon enough; the young palace guard had taken advantage of the other’s exhaustion, and on an ill-timed turn moved to strike him on the shoulder. The moment the strike occurred the drums stopped, and Neti found the sudden silence overwhelming. It almost rang in her ears as her heart pounded in her chest. Her mouth had gone dry a while ago.

  Two men, panting and sweating, stood to face each other, tapping the stick twice on the ground before they turned to leave. The visitor handed his stick back to one of the attendants while the guard rejoined his group accompanied by their cheers.

  The captain called one of the men, and Neti watched as one of the lankiest men she had ever seen came to stand in the arena. His physique was awkward and there was very little muscle on his chest and arms.

  Neti frowned and turned to look at Shabaka in question.

  Shabaka gestured with his head to tell her to watch, as the proceedings were repeated. As awkward as the young man appeared to be, it did not affect his performance at all, because just like his companion he quickly tired the visitor out and struck the winning blow.

  The battles were not long, but they were quite intense. Two of the contenders dropped out very quickly, the other showing considerable skill. Hazim was one of the youngsters who kept up the longest and eventually retired when both he and the guard became too exhausted.

  “He does not seem too disappointed”, Neti said to Shabaka, when the captain again called one of his men.

  Shabaka shook his head, “Any young man of his age who is capable of keeping up that long in a stick fight against one of the palace guards has little to be ashamed of. These guards are the best trained stick fighters in all of Nubia. He will join them when he comes of age.”

  Just then the captain gave a signal to Shabaka, who in turn informed her, “The last one is Dagi’s son.”

  “How do you know?” Neti asked turning to look at the young man.

  “I asked them to point him out to me.”

  Neti looked at the young man; she did not find his features attractive, the rounded slope of his forehead and his nose seemed odd, his nostrils seemed to be too wide and his nose too flat. His mouth was angled and it reminded her somewhat of a hawk’s beak, the upper lip extruding some over the lower lip. It made his face look harsh and she was not sure if it was that or Aya’s account of his mother’s deed that put her off so much. But he was well toned and his movements appeared very fluid.

  Neti had had a hard time comparing him to his father, she could find little similarities in the features, but since she had never seen the trader in good health, she knew it would be unfair to judge. Also not having seen his mother she had no idea whom he really resembled. He moved with the agility that one would expect from a young man engaged in stick dancing and managed quite well against the guard.

  Leaning closer to her Shabaka said, “He favors his right foot.”

  Without taking her attention from the two men before her she replied, “How do you know?”

  “See how when he lands on it he drops his heel. He does not stay on his toes”, Shabaka said and Neti moved her focus to the young man’s foot, noticing he really did so while the other man stayed on his toes. “His opponent has realized it”, Shabaka continued. “He is increasingly using maneuvers to push him to use it.”

  Just then, the man miss stepped and tumbled to the ground, allowing the guard to strike.

  “A well thought-out victory”, Shabaka said to her before addressing the guard in his own language.

  “What did you say to him?”, Neti asked after the guard had bowed and Dagi’s son returned to the others.

  “That he has learned well how to identify the weakness in his opponent and how to use it to his advantage.

  Neti watched as Shabaka asked the captain to bring Dagi’s son to them.

  The young man willingly stepped forward and knelt before them.

  “Rise, Rameke.” Shabaka said, which made the younger man look at him in surprise. “I see you are daring enough to take on the palace guards while injured”, Shabaka said pointing to his foot. Neti only belatedly realized that Shabaka had addressed him in Egyptian.

  “It is nothing, my Prince, a mere misstep this morning when I was practicing.” The young man replied also in Egyptian, and Neti remembered Shabaka’s earlier remarks. Rameke continued, “I would not cede the honor of a chance to partake in such a match.”

  “So I see”, Shabaka asked. “You are the oldest son of Dagi?”

  Rameke nodded, “Yes, my Prince, I am. However, my father has fallen ill, he barely ever
leaves his rooms.”

  “I know, I went to see him yesterday, the Egyptian pharaoh Ramesses had a request for him. I must say I was greatly alarmed by his condition and would like for you to answer some questions I have regarding his condition.”

  “I will answer them as best as I can, my Prince.”

  “Has you father been suffering like this for long?” Shabaka calmly began.

  “No, my Prince, he has but recently fallen ill. We have requested the attention of numerous healers but he turns them all away, claiming that they cannot help him.”

  Neti watched the young man’s stance but there was nothing to indicate that he was not being sincere and honest with his reply. He did not shuffle or look uncomfortable, if fact he seemed to take pride in the fact of being singled out if front of the others.

  “I understand that you are to inherit his estate and his business?”

  “Yes, my Prince, I am.”

  “And you think that you will be capable of continuing your father’s work?”

  “My father has some of the best servants employed, there are some matters of the business that I am not familiar with, and while these are being taught to me, I must admit I do not know enough yet.”

  “What of your mother?” Shabaka asked.

  Neti saw the young man flinch at the question and then lower his gaze as he spoke, “She has chosen her fate.” His voice was dejected, but Neti could not assess whether it was real or pretend emotion. It was a difficult enough situation with judgment having been passed down by Shabaka’s father, and with Shabaka questioning him on the matter. The young man had no choice but to appear dejected at such a question as there were enough guards and witnesses to prevent him from being truly honest.

  “I understand there was an attempt on your father’s life”, Shabaka continued, seeming undisturbed by the young man’s reaction. “I also understand that she was behind it and was stoned for it.”

  “My Prince, I cannot speak for my mother, for I am only a much loved son and it would displease the gods if I were to speak ill of the woman who gave birth to me. But what you say is true. That I cannot deny, yet she was a good mother to me.”