Death in Luxor

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Death in Luxor Page 12

by Graham Warren


  “Everyone knew that Meretseger liked to bask in an old ished tree, below which cats and cobras slept together in the shade. The warlock used ancient magic to turn himself into a cat, though as you can see from the wall here, he failed to make the full transformation. He became half cat, half rabbit. Obviously thinking that the transformation was good enough to get him close to Meretseger, he proceeded with his plan.

  “All animals sense danger, so walking in with a knife, even a hidden knife, would alert them to his presence. He waited under the ished tree, and whilst he did, he pretended to be asleep. Meretseger, on waking, slid out of the tree. As she flexed her body, the warlock, still in the form of a cat, cast a spell he had prepared. This turned a fallen leaf into a knife. He attacked Meretseger. Despite bleeding badly, she managed to get away. The warlock was not worried, in fact he was very happy, as he considered her too severely injured to survive.”

  Kate elbowed Alex in the ribs, “See, I said the knife looked like a leaf.”

  “Yes, you are correct,” said Inky with a smile. “However, the leaf was the warlock’s undoing. He had not picked up a leaf which had fallen from the ished tree, but a leaf that we use as a medicine. A leaf which heals wounds. Believing Meretseger dead, the warlock set in place plans for his future power. As you have seen today, Meretseger survived, though she will always carry the scar on her back and has never spoken since. She hides away in her beloved Theban Hills.

  “For centuries afterwards there were tales of people seeing Meretseger. These were dismissed as stories. It was almost a thousand years before it was truly confirmed that she was still protecting the Theban Hills. All this time spent in the dark had affected her eyesight. She can still see, though she does not see well. So, she does not speak, does not see well, and mistrusts cats, all cats. Rather than welcome any cat that comes into her hills, she immediately spits venom to blind it, so that it cannot attack her.

  “All Egyptian cobras worship Meretseger, so, likewise, they will do the same to any cat that comes close. Bast, being a god, does not fear ordinary Egyptian cobras, though she does fear Meretseger. A battle between gods is not something that anybody would want to see. That is why Bast would not come into the hills, because she could not help you here. Nothing more sinister than that.”

  “What event happened to prove that Meretseger was alive?” asked Alex.

  “That is a whole new story. One we do not have time for today,” replied Inky. “Were there any other quick questions before you leave us?”

  Alex thought that most had been answered. The ‘how do we get out of here’ question would be answered when they left.

  “How come you have spoken perfect English and nothing has happened, whereas Cairo’s ancient relations say that it is too dangerous to do so?” Before Inky had time to answer Kate spoke again. “How stupid of me, the answer was in my question. You are not a relative of Cairo’s, so the warlock is not listening for you to speak English.”

  “Not just the warlock, but anyone who may wish you harm. We ancients most often speak English as our ancient language changed so much, even in one lifetime. For example, when Tutankhamun comes to visit, we can only converse in English, as our ancient Egyptian is so different from his.”

  Mrs Inky nodded. “He is such a dear boy. It was terrible what happened to him.”

  Kate was about to ask what did happen to him, when Inky held up a hand that said now was not the time for any more questions. He then pointed behind them. Turning around, they saw Sanuba standing in the far corner. He held a finger to his lips before beckoning them over. Once by him, he motioned for them to go down through a hole in the floor, which they did without hesitation.

  As they sped away from the tomb in the craptor pulled cart, Kate suddenly realised that she had not said goodbye to Inky and his wife. She mentioned this. It turned out that none of them had said anything as they left. The cart came to a halt below a short shaft, down which electric light shone from whatever was above them. Sanuba spoke for the first time. “We are beside the road. Rose is waiting up there to get you back to the Winter Palace just as quickly as she can. You should not be too late.”

  Kate thanked him. She asked if he would apologise to Inky and Mrs Inky for them not saying goodbye and thank them for the sandwiches.

  “You ate the sandwiches!” said Sanuba with incredulity.

  “Yes, they were really nice,” said Kate.

  “Yes, great,” said Alex.

  “I could have eaten more,” said Cairo.

  Knowing that they would be up and away with Rose very soon, Sanuba had no fear of speaking. “Did you see the painting on the ceiling of all the bulls’ heads?”

  Kate and Alex confirmed that they had.

  “That is what the family were really well-known for, are known for, that is why they continue to have so many ancient visitors. They have a secret way of rendering down bulls’ heads, from which they make the meat loaf that they slice for their sandwiches. You both really surprise me, as I have never before heard of anybody except ancients or Egyptians enjoying them.”

  Their jaws dropped as they looked at Sanuba smiling at them. Tough neither Kate nor Alex wanted to ask, they both did.

  “Yes,” said Sanuba in reply, “the whole head. Eyes, brain, tongue, ears and nose … everything.” Kate and Alex were already fighting with their stomachs when he added, “It must be the brains, eyeballs and mucus membrane which allow it to set so firmly that it can be sliced.” Kate was now throwing up on one side of the cart, whilst Alex threw up on the other.

  “What a waste of good food,” said Cairo with an evil little chuckle.

  “No waste,” said Sanuba, “as the craptors will eat well once you have all left.” The thought of the craptors eating their vomit caused both Kate and Alex to involuntarily retch yet again.

  “It was indeed a good day,” thought Cairo. He could not help but clap his hands together and bounce up and down in excitement, as he sat on the front of the cart.

  Chapter 9

  -

  The Tomb of Ay

  “This is such a waste of time,” said Kate to Alex as they sped to the West Bank of Luxor, in the minibus that Quentin had arranged.

  “You may well think of this as a waste of time, but it’s infinitely better than you being grounded. That’s what Aggie wanted to do to you, before mum and dad talked her around over dinner.”

  “Yes, but we are stuck with them all day, so this is another day of my holiday wasted.”

  “You really do have to start listening, Kate. Aggie was going to ground you, not for a day, not for a couple of days, but until your flight home. She was deadly serious. So, a little gratitude wouldn’t go amiss.” Alex looked forward, only to see the back of Aggie, whose head had now dropped, as she dozed. His view being partially obscured by Aggie’s satellite dish of a hat, he strained to look further forward, where he saw that his mum and dad were deep in conversation. His silence gave Kate plenty of time to come back with some caustic remark. Much to Alex’s consternation she remained silent. “Look on the positive side. We couldn’t follow dad to his dig today, as he is here with us and it is too soon to revisit Napoleon’s tomb.”

  “Oh, do tell me more, Alex, as I didn’t know that Napoleon was buried here.”

  “You know what I meant.”

  “Yes, I do, and you’re right. Don’t let it go to your head! This really is the best I could have hoped for. It’s just that I’m so frustrated. The answer seems to be so close. I just cannot grasp it.”

  “Well, let’s look at what we do know and see if that helps.” Alex took hold of her hand.

  Kate immediately placed her free hand on top of his, before dropping her head onto his shoulder. “I thought that I had lost you yesterday. It was wrong of me to have pushed you out like that. It was just that a plan sprang into my mind and I acted on it. I didn’t think of anyone else.” Kate squeezed his hand a little harder before saying, “I’m so sorry, Alex.”

  It went thr
ough his mind that all Kate ever thought of was herself. He then became annoyed by his own thoughts. They appeared to be becoming ever harder, especially as he knew why Kate had done what she did. She had now also said sorry, which must have been really difficult for her. Alex could feel himself changing in just the short time he had been in Luxor. He was not at all pleased with how he was changing. At times he really felt like calling a spade a spade, though in the bluntest of terms. This was not his way. Kate had seen. She had found her ancient family. Cairo likewise. Trying to work out what he had failed to see, how he had failed to see, and where he should have fitted in, was causing Alex sleepless nights. He was brought out of his thoughts by Kate.

  “Look, I said I’m sorry, and you sit there and say nothing.” She pulled her hands away, sat up straight, and as she did, she slid along the back seat, leaving a gap between them.

  It was out before Alex had any time to think it through. “Even when you say sorry, the only person you are thinking of is you!” Their words had, until now, been just between themselves on the back seat. Now Alex’s parents were no longer talking, as they had turned to scowl at him. He could even see the driver’s eyes looking directly at him via the rear-view mirror. He shifted only slightly, so that he was fully hidden behind Aggie’s hat. There were a couple of seconds of silence before his cover was lost.

  Aggie brought her head up as she uttered with her eyes still closed, “Oh, another gin and tonic, how nice.” Everybody laughed, and though Aggie’s eyes were now fully open, thanks to her hangover, she was seeing only slightly more than when they had been closed. She demanded to know what everyone was laughing about.

  Before anyone could enlighten her, not that anyone wanted to, the driver pulled the minibus over. He brought it to rather an abrupt halt, in the best tradition of Egyptian driving. Leaving the vehicle, he walked around to open the sliding door on the far side. Immediately he was bombarded with moans and groans, as the heat bouncing off the surrounding hills entered with unnecessary haste.

  Quentin was yet again in his element, as the unofficial tour guide with a captive audience. He and the driver walked off to the Valley of the Kings ticket office, leaving those in the minibus making repeated attempts to turn the ineffectual air-conditioning beyond maximum. Though the engine had been left running and the air-conditioning was blowing, the temperature within kept rising.

  Aggie was moaning, not to anyone in particular, just moaning.

  Babs was praying that Quentin and the driver would not be long, or, better still, that this holiday was all a horrid dream, if not a nightmare, and she would wake up at home any minute. Her prayer, though the lesser one of the two, was immediately answered, as Quentin and the driver came back into view, with Quentin waving the tickets. Babs kicked the seat in front of her out of frustration, only to realise from the excruciating pain which shot up her right leg that this was no dream. This was, she considered, as good as her life got. In the time it took for Quentin to reach the seat beside her, she had already mentally divorced him and was having the perfect holiday with a man who only ever appeared to her in her thoughts.

  Kate and Alex were not speaking, though more than a few snarling type glances had been passed between them. Heading up the unmade stone track into the Valley of the Baboons, they turned to snarl at each other at exactly the same moment. Their eyes caught, and the ridiculousness of the situation broke the tension.

  After what seemed to be an age of bumps, twists and turns, the driver hit the accelerator hard. He powered the minibus up the final steep, loose stone slope, a slope that would bring them close to the tomb of Ay.

  As soon as everyone was sitting in the shade, under the wooden canopy of the tourist waiting area, Quentin announced that they were at the very end of the Valley of the Baboons. He felt the need to enlighten them that the Valley of the Baboons was sometimes referred to as the Valley of the Monkeys, though this was not correct, and they would all see why when they were in the tomb. Nobody was listening to him, in fact nobody gave a monkeys!

  Babs was wondering if they ever had enough tourists this far up the valley to make the building of such a large shelter worthwhile. The whole area was deserted.

  Kate and Alex were thinking of what had happened to them the last time they went into a pharaoh’s tomb. Neither thought that entering this tomb was a good idea. Whatever happened, they knew that neither of them must mention Pharaoh Nakhtifi by name.

  Aggie, still wearing her hat and hangover, thought that if this was Spain, there would be a bar here, along with a young waiter she could flirt with. The cumulative effect of copious amounts of quality European gin, followed by copious amounts of rather risky Egyptian gin – after the ‘good stuff’ had run out – along with the extreme temperature, had pushed Aggie’s body to its limit, and possibly just a little beyond. Today she was suffering more than usual, though she did not consider alcohol to be the cause. She blamed that insufferable grandchild of hers. If it was not for Kate, she would never have suffered that blow to her head at the Winter Palace. It was that blow, Aggie was convinced, which was making her feel this awful. It was even causing her to hallucinate. She could have sworn that she had just seen a tall, very well-built man, dressed as a bird of prey, enter the tomb of Ay.

  Quentin coughed a cough that said his spiel was about to start.

  Aggie turned to look at him a little too quickly. Had she not been sitting on a fixed concrete seat, both her and the chair would have been upended.

  Kate, Alex and Babs had been watching Quentin for some while, as he mentally prepared his talk. It was, however, only Kate and Alex who could picture Quentin as an Ibis, as a Thoth, and this was the cause of their constant sniggers. He had been strutting and mumbling to himself, but now he was prepared.

  “Right, are we ready?” said Quentin. In answer to which Babs nodded, Kate held both thumbs up and Alex said yes. This had to be good enough for him to start. Though Aggie was looking in his general direction, he had seen students look more awake at his lectures, when they had actually been asleep. Something he only ever became aware of when they remained seated after everyone else had left. His record was twenty-four sleepers, as the lecturers referred to them. Quentin was far from despondent over this, as it was still a much better record than many, and after all, his had been the first lecture after the excessive partying of a New Year.

  Professor Heath held the record for the highest number of sleepers, as at the end of a particularly long lecture on a hot summer’s day only four out of thirty-six students got up to leave. His own failure to remain awake meant that they missed Mrs Wattage’s lecture. This had caused derisions of laughter in the staff common room, as she complained to Professor Heath that the non-arrival of his students had delayed her lecture on the difficulties of living with insomnia.

  “Oh, do get on with it,” said Babs, “before we completely dehydrate.”

  “I shall not take long, dear. We will move to the cool of the tomb soon enough.” Quentin endured a round of mock applause, which included a couple of whoop-de-doos from Kate. He was a seasoned lecturer, he had a captive audience, so he remained unfazed. He was actually quite pleased, as the noise brought Aggie back to the land of the living, which made his audience complete. “We enter the tomb here,” he said as he pointed at a black and white printed board, showing a basic exploded view of a very simple tomb design.

  “Actually, we enter over there,” said Kate just loud enough for Alex to hear. She wagged her index finger in the direction of the entrance, without unfolding her arms. “It is less than five metres away and cool, so why are we boiling here?”

  “We will be in the tomb soon enough. I’m not looking forward to being in there. You must keep in mind that today is stopping you from being grounded.”

  “Alex! … I am disappointed with you,” his father snapped. “I thought you wanted to learn more about the ancient Egyptians. You will not learn if you never stop talking.”

  “Sorry, Dad.”

  �
��Okay, I know that we are getting hot, but this will help you all to get so much more out of this visit. Do any of you know who Ay was?”

  There were shrugs from Kate, Alex and Babs. This had nothing to do with their lack of knowledge of Ay, as they all knew who he was. It had everything to do with keeping Quentin’s spiel short. If any one of them had admitted to knowing anything, he would have had to go into far greater detail, to prove his superiority on the subject.

  Quentin smiled contentedly. “He was a general in Pharaoh Tutankhamun’s army. He became pharaoh on the death of the boy king. This eighteenth dynasty tomb was in fact started for Tutankhamun. His untimely death meant that it was not sufficiently advanced for him to be able to be buried here. The ancient Egyptians were allowed no more than seventy days from the day of a pharaoh’s death to the day of interment.”

  Kate put her hand up as if she was at school. Quentin motioned for her to ask her question. “I’m sorry, Mister Cumberpatch, but if we do not get into the cool of this tomb soon, I think that there is every chance you will be burying me here as well.”

  Babs looked horrified as she tried to work out how she was going to calm Quentin down. She was convinced that he would explode, yet to her amazement, he was smiling. This was quite out of character, “So, he must also be feeling the heat,” she thought.

  The valley narrowed around them as it finished at a dead end just meters beyond the tomb of Ay. Surrounded by walls of solid rock which shot vertically into the sky, they left nothing more than a narrow line of blue above. A short distance back down the road by which they had arrived, it opened out quite quickly. This much wider area welcomed the sun to beat down upon it. When they had arrived, it was, despite the shade, very hot. In just a few minutes the shade had all but disappeared allowing the temperature to go from hot to hell.

  It now hurt the eyes to look at anything outside of their shelter. Quentin was standing at its very end, as that was where the information board was. Babs could see that he was now in full sun. He was most definitely feeling the heat. This could be attested to from the dark wet circles of sweat appearing through his shirt. “Okay,” he said as he stepped away from the information board, “it’s quite safe to leave anything here, anything you do not wish to take into the tomb, as our driver will be staying with his vehicle. Now let us all enter the royal tomb of Ay.”

 

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