Ramose and the Tomb Robbers

by Carole Wilkinson

  “It’s supposed to be a secret, Hapu,” said Ramose wishing his friend was grumpy and silent again, instead of happy and talkative.

  “I haven’t said where the tomb is,” said Hapu. “And anyway it’s destroyed now.”

  Ramose was starting to get nervous about arriving in Memphis. He had begun to think that he would never regain his place as heir to Egypt’s throne, never see his father, never become pharaoh. Suddenly, in two days, he would be able to contact his sister again and see his sick father.

  Now that the wait was over, the thought of arriving in Memphis quite scared him. His plan for actually getting inside the palace there was rather vague. He decided that the best thing to do was to find his sister first, but how he would get to her without the vizier knowing he hadn’t yet worked out.

  Hori came and sat beside him.

  “You are a scribe, I see,” said Hori looking with one eye at the palette and pen box in Ramose’s bag.

  “An apprentice scribe,” said Ramose.

  “That’s a nice set of scribal tools,” said Hori.

  “I inherited it from my previous master, who died in the flood,” lied Ramose closing his bag. He was conscious that the ebony palette inlaid with gold, ivory and turquoise was far too rich for an apprentice scribe to own.

  “Tell me what you make of this,” Hori said pulling a very old-looking piece of papyrus from his own bag.

  Ramose noticed that it had a royal seal, though the blob of wax was cracking with age. He unrolled the papyrus and read the flowing script.

  “It’s instructions,” he said.

  “Instructions on how to get inside a pyramid?” asked Intef.

  Seth thumped him in the chest to silence him.

  “No,” replied Ramose. “Instructions on how to lead a good life and attain knowledge. I’ve read many texts like this. My tutor made me copy them out endlessly.”

  He turned over the scroll. “There is mention of a pyramid, the pyramid of one of the old pharaohs.”

  The three men leaned forward. “Does it say anything about the tomb within the pyramid?”

  “It could be about the location of a tomb, but it’s written like a puzzle, a riddle, as if the person who wrote it didn’t really want anyone to find it. Where did you get it from?”

  “Oh, I just picked it up somewhere,” Hori said vaguely. Intef and Seth, who had hardly spoken since they’d been aboard, started whispering to each other. “I’ll hand it in to the authorities when we get to Memphis.”

  They tied up in the afternoon. “Why are we stopping so early?” asked Hapu. “We usually keep going till sunset.”

  “This is a good place to moor for the night,” said the captain. “Further up, the riverbank is rocky and it’s more difficult to get ashore.”

  The soldiers set up their camp on shore near some pretty farming land. Some of them used the extra daylight hours to wash their kilts at the river’s edge. Others fished with their spears. Karoya helped the cook collect fuel for the cooking fire.

  Hapu leaned back comfortably on a ridge of sand. “I shall almost miss this life.”

  “Make the most of it, you could be in prison this time tomorrow,” said Ramose in a low voice. “Arrested for breaking into the palace.”

  “Don’t be so gloomy. It’s too nice a day.”

  The sun was setting and the sky turned pale orange. It was a nice day, but Ramose couldn’t help but worry about what might be ahead of them.

  They had a pleasant meal of ox meat, newly baked bread and vegetables. After dinner the soldiers played senet and a rather childish ball game. Hapu joined in enthusiastically.

  Ramose laid out his reed mat away from the soldiers where it was quieter. The others eventually settled down to sleep, but Ramose lay awake looking at the stars. He couldn’t sleep. Hapu was snoring softly. Karoya was sleeping under her head shawl. All the soldiers were asleep as well. The only other creature awake was Mery who was trying to settle down on Ramose’s stomach. Ramose had pushed the cat away at least half a dozen times, but it kept coming back, digging its claws into his chest. Ramose sat up abruptly and grabbed the cat. He stuffed it into his reed bag.

  “Now perhaps you’ll go to sleep and leave me alone,” hissed Ramose.

  He tied a leather thong around the opening. The bag was loosely woven, the cat would be able to breathe easily enough. He lay down again with a sigh.

  Just as Ramose was starting to drift off to sleep, he felt a hand clamp over his mouth. It was a dirty, sweaty hand that smelt of onions. Ramose tried to pull it off, but other hands turned him over roughly and tied his arms behind his back. A gag was tied tightly over his mouth. Ramose fought furiously against his bindings but he couldn’t break free. A short, dark figure hauled him to his feet and forced him to walk away from his friends and into the darkness. He struggled against his captors. They muttered and cursed him. Something cracked him on the head.

  6

  KIDNAPPED

  Someone was slapping his face. It hurt. His whole head hurt. “Come on, wake up,” said a rough voice. It was Hori. “Intef’s tired of carrying you.”

  Ramose was lying on the ground. Hori was leaning over him. He slapped him again. Ramose tried to sit up, but he couldn’t because his hands were tied behind him. His jaw was stiff and sore. His mouth was dry because of the tight gag. He rolled onto his side. Ramose didn’t know where he was. It was still dark. He couldn’t hear the sound of the river, but the air was still moist and he could feel grass beneath him. Hori and Intef were watching him. Seth was opening Ramose’s bag. He undid the string. There was a ferocious spitting and hissing as Mery leapt out of the bag. Seth shrieked. Mery darted off into the darkness.

  “It’s a monster,” Seth yelled. “The boy’s got a monster in his bag.”

  Ramose would have laughed if he hadn’t had a strip of linen gagging him. He hoped the cat could find its way back to Karoya.

  “It was the slave girl’s cat, stupid,” said Hori. “Let’s get moving. We’ve got a long way to go before it gets light.”

  Ramose’s moment of pleasure disappeared as Intef dragged him to his feet. After walking for about two hours in the dark, the moon rose. Ramose could see two pyramids in the distance, their limestone faces gave off a soft glow in the moonlight. They were walking towards the larger pyramid. It was surrounded by tombs, chapels and temples. As they got closer, Ramose could see that there was a row of trees planted around the edge of the pyramid. There were not only date palms and tamarisks, but also sacred persea trees.

  It was starting to get light by now. Ramose was tired. He could tell the other men were as well, but Hori was making them hurry. He led them to a crumbling rectangular tomb where he broke open the door and they went inside just as the sun rose. Inside was a chapel with painted walls. Ramose knew that somewhere below them an important person would be buried.

  “No one goes outside until it’s dark again,” said Hori laying down his reed mat.

  “I don’t like the idea of sleeping in a tomb,” said Seth looking nervously in all the dark corners.

  Intef’s brow furrowed. “What if I want to…”

  “Go now,” said Hori. “Seth, you go out and find a temple that’s still in use and steal some of the food offerings.”

  “Do I have to?”

  “Yes.”

  Seth left reluctantly. He soon returned with food and the robbers feasted on the meat, vegetables and sweet cakes that he had stolen from a temple. When they had finished eating, Hori belched loudly.

  “Untie the scribe’s hands.” He nodded to Seth who went over and untied the rope around Ramose’s wrists.

  They gave him a piece of dry bread and a few mouthfuls of warm beer.

  “Intef, you sleep in front of the door,” Hori said as he settled himself down. “Just in case the scribe decides to wander off.” He grinned at Seth. “Or in case any spirits try and get us.”

  They were all asleep within a few minutes. All except for Ramose. He couldn’t
sleep. Seth had insisted on leaving a lamp burning. In the dim light, Ramose looked at the paintings on the walls of the chapel. He peered at the writing. It was the tomb of a priest called Amenhotep. There was a painting of the priest and his wife, ploughing in the Field of Reeds in the afterlife. Another painting showed the couple praising Osiris. The third wall had a scene from Amenhotep’s funeral. The fourth wall showed a banquet with girls dancing and playing musical instruments. In the dim light it reminded Ramose of the palace and his own room with its wall paintings. There was an offering table, but it looked like it had been a very long time since anyone had brought offerings for Amenhotep.

  Ramose felt like he’d only just got to sleep when Seth was shaking him awake again.

  “Come on, Scribe,” he said. “You’ve got work to do.”

  Breakfast was another mouthful of dry bread, and three dates. Ramose suspected it was nowhere near breakfast time.

  “I’m thirsty.”

  Hori gave him a flask of beer.

  “Don’t you have any water?” Ramose asked.

  “No.”

  Outside it was a still, cool evening. It was peaceful. Nothing disturbed the quiet but the howling of a distant dog, the buzzing of insects and Intef’s heavy breathing. Ramose thought that many people probably worked in the area, tending the tombs and the temples around the pyramids. There was no one around, though. All the workers had returned to their homes for the night. Ramose was led by his captors towards the pyramid, which loomed eerily in the dark.

  “Okay, Scribe,” said Hori. “This is where you earn your keep.”

  “Since you’ve only given me a piece of dry bread and three dates, there can’t be much for me to do.”

  “Don’t get smart,” said Hori pulling out the papyrus that he had shown Ramose on the boat. “Find the entrance to the tomb.”

  Ramose had guessed that the men were tomb robbers. He hated the idea of helping them, but at that moment he didn’t think that he had a choice. He peered at the papyrus in the dim light of an oil lamp. “It says:

  Read these words well, they will teach you.

  If you disturb the great one’s place of rest, you will feel the wrath of the gods.

  If riches come to you by theft, they will not stay the night with you.

  The greedy man will have no tomb.

  He will be tortured for eternity by the spirits.”

  “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” said Seth, glancing around nervously.

  “Don’t worry about that stuff. It’s just to scare us off,” Hori said. “Get to the important bit. Where’s the tomb entrance?”

  Ramose read on.

  “Seek the truth where you least expect it.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Intef, his brow furrowed with confusion.

  “Tomb entrances are always facing north, aren’t they?” said Hori. “Aligned with certain stars.”

  Ramose nodded.

  “So maybe the entrance is on the south face of the pyramid,” said Seth.

  Hori nodded. “Yes but where? What else does it say, Scribe?”

  “It says:

  The sun rises twenty and seven cubits from the east and climbs to a height of ten and five cubits.”

  “That must be the measurements to find the entrance,” said Hori.

  Ramose was sure he was right, but he didn’t say anything. He was thinking about what the scroll had said about feeling the wrath of the gods. The tomb robbers were hurrying to the south side of the pyramid. Ramose reluctantly followed them.

  The men measured out the distances that Ramose read out from the papyrus. Intef clambered up the side of the pyramid with the aid of a rickety ladder that they made out of tamarisk branches and reeds. Intef had a large stone hammer tied around his waist.

  “There’s no sign of a doorway,” said Intef.

  “Of course there isn’t,” snapped Hori. “It’s a hidden entrance!”

  “Are you sure this is where it is?”

  “Twenty and seven cubits from the eastern corner. Ten and five cubits up the side, that’s what it says isn’t it, boy?”

  Ramose nodded, feeling a wave of guilt at helping the criminals.

  Intef took the hammer from his belt and with a mighty swing smashed it into the side of the pyramid. The sound seemed deafeningly loud in the quiet of the evening. Ramose winced. The robbers listened anxiously to see if the noise had attracted anyone.

  “It hardly made a mark,” said Intef.

  “It’s solid stone,” said Seth impatiently. “It’s going to take more than one whack to break it.”

  Intef swung the hammer again and again. It took a dozen blows before the stone block even cracked. It looked like the ladder might give way before he broke it. The big man continued to swing the hammer, grunting louder with the exertion of each blow. His body glistened in the moonlight as the sweat ran down him.

  “This is getting nowhere,” he called down.

  “That’s because you’re useless,” Hori shouted. “Do I have to come up and do it myself?”

  Even though Intef was plainly stupid, he didn’t like anybody saying so. He swung his hammer with a growl of anger. The stone exploded under the blow, pieces of rock showered down on those watching below.

  “That’s more like it,” said Hori with an ugly grin, aware that his jibe had worked.

  “Don’t get too excited,” said Intef. “There’s another layer underneath that one.”

  “Well, you better get into it, otherwise it’ll be daybreak and we’ll still be on the outside.”

  The second layer was thicker but made of mud brick. With a lot of grumbling and a few more hefty blows, Intef’s hammer disappeared inside the pyramid. Seth cheered.

  “Shut up, you fool,” said Hori. “We don’t want to bring the temple guards over here. Get the lamps and the bag, Scribe. You’re going in with him.”

  “What about you?”

  “Seth and I will keep watch.”

  Seth smiled, relieved that he didn’t have to go inside the pyramid. It was an ugly sight as the robber had hardly any teeth. Ramose tentatively put his foot on the shaky ladder and climbed to the hole, balancing an oil lamp in one hand and with a bag of tools over his shoulder.

  The air from inside the tomb was cool and had a strange smell. It was escaping after being sealed inside for four centuries. While he had been waiting for Intef to break into the pyramid, he’d read the papyrus carefully. The pyramid contained the tomb of Pharaoh Senusret from long ago.

  Ramose remembered the name from Keneben’s lists of kings, which he’d had to learn off by heart back in the palace schoolroom. He crawled in through the hole gouged in the white limestone of the pyramid. He’d been a good pharaoh as far as Ramose could remember, known for irrigation systems and trade with foreigners. Ramose didn’t like the idea of disturbing his tomb.

  7

  THE SECRETS OF THE PYRAMID

  Inside the pyramid a narrow passage sloped downwards. The walls were lined with plain limestone, not decorated with carvings as his father’s tomb had been. He sighed. He should be on his way to his father now, not stumbling around inside a pyramid. He could see Intef ahead, with a coil of rope over one shoulder and the stone hammer swinging from his waist. The ceiling was low and the big man had to stoop. So this is what it feels like to be a tomb robber, Ramose thought to himself. He had always found it hard to believe such people really existed. People who were so greedy for gold that they were willing to risk severe punishments. He’d heard of tomb robbers having their ears and lips cut off. More often than not they were executed. And that was only in this world. In the afterlife, tomb robbers faced eternal oblivion. No growing wheat in the Fields of Reeds for them. He wondered how Osiris, the god of the underworld, would judge an unwilling tomb robber.

  Ramose had been expecting to feel his usual fear of enclosed spaces, but he didn’t. Perhaps it was because it was night, and the darkness inside the pyramid seemed like a continuation of the da
rkness outside. Perhaps it was because he was tired and hungry. He hadn’t seen any daylight for two days. He felt as if everything that was happening wasn’t real, as if it was a dream and therefore nothing to be afraid of. As he descended into the depths of the pyramid he felt a strange calmness, as if he was watching himself from somewhere else—somewhere where it was safe.

  At the bottom of the sloping shaft there was a high-ceilinged chamber. Intef straightened up with a groan. He looked around, squinting in the dim light of his lamp. The chamber had been carefully lined with smooth limestone, but it was completely empty.

  “Where’s the sarcophagus?” he said.

  Ramose smiled at the man’s stupidity. “If it was that easy to find the actual burial chamber it would have been robbed ages ago.”

  Intef’s brow creased.

  “The architect who built this didn’t want the tomb to be found. He probably designed it with hidden passages and dead-end tunnels. There could be traps.”

  “But you know all about it from the writing, don’t you?”

  “It’s written in a sort of riddle.”

  Intef walked around the chamber feeling the solid limestone walls. “But there’s no other way out of this room.”

  “Yes there is,” said Ramose who was beginning to enjoy making Intef look foolish, which wasn’t hard. He read from the papyrus.

  “Allow thy soul to be raised up towards heaven.

  This is the best and shortest road towards knowledge.

  The way of knowledge is narrow.

  You must become a low and creeping thing.”

  Intef stood with his head cocked on one side like a large and stupid dog.

  Ramose held his lamp above his head. The roof of the chamber was made of stepped slabs of stone so that it narrowed to a point.

  “The entrance to the next tunnel must be up there somewhere.”

  Intef held his lamp up and looked up. With the light from both lamps they could just make out a small dark square. It was at least the height of four men above them.