The Curse of Anubis - A Mystery in Ancient Egypt (The Mummifier's Daughter Series Book 3)

by Nathaniel Burns

  “Oh, yes,” Shabaka said, then turned and continued on his way.

  “Besides, Neti told me about it when I asked about Yani,” Moses continued, his tone weary, as he again fell into step with Shabaka.

  “When was this?” Shabaka was quick to demand, not liking that Neti would discuss such matters with the young man, while remembering Yani, who had been one of Ma-Nefer’s slaves.

  “Not long after our arrival,”

  Shabaka again halted and turned to look at the young Hebrew, “Why the sudden interest in Yani?”

  “I like her,” the young man calmly decreed.

  Shabaka, internally, breathed a sigh of relief. He had lately become concerned about the amount of time Moses spent with Neti, in that something could develop between the two. Although the man’s confession had eased, to some extent, that apprehension, he wished he could as easily announce his attraction to Neti and replied, “I do not know if that is such a good idea.”

  “Neti doesn’t mind, why should you?” Moses countered.

  This caused Shabaka to frown. He thought back some, trying to establish how he could have been so oblivious to it. He thought that Moses’s recent inclination to leave him and Neti alone had stemmed from the knowledge that Shabaka was drawn to Neti. However, it seemed that the young man had instead pursued courting plans of his own.

  “We’re going to Neti, right?” Moses asked, having recognized the path they were following, again falling into step with Shabaka.

  “Yes. I have to warn her to be on the lookout, also that we will be leaving for Deir-el-Medina in the morning.”

  “We’re going to the west bank?” Moses enthusiastically asked, “Can we go to the Ramesseum?” Shabaka smiled and shook his head some. Ever since their return, Moses had had Neti take him to the Luxor temple and the Karnak, and she had patiently shown him around the city. However, Moses had been eager to see the west bank, but their caseload had simply not allowed it.

  “I’m sure we can make some time to see it,” Shabaka replied, as they turned up the road on which Neti’s per-nefer was located.

  “I saw the plans in Ramesses’s study,” Moses enthused. “They looked impressive. Is it done yet?”

  “As far as I know, the building has been completed. I think there are still some scribes working on it.”

  A few moments later, they entered Neti’s per-nefer and were greeted by one of her bearers, who nodded in acknowledgment to Shabaka before gesturing to the chamber.

  Shabaka took a deep breath before entering, mumbling, “Peace and good journey,” as he stepped into the room, so not to upset the ka of the dead.

  The words caused Neti to look up from her work, smiling in welcome.

  On noticing her hands covered with anointing oil, Shabaka fought the jealous jolt that shot through him. He had on several occasions seen her glide her hands over a body before bandaging it, and he envied the dead that attention.

  “Shabaka,” she greeted, and then frowned as her gaze shifted to his recently bandaged arm. She moved from the dead body, taking a rag to wipe her hands, as she demanded, “What have you done?” indicating his arm.

  Shabaka looked at the bandage and noticed that it had bled through the fabric, before shrugging, “The usual—a chase through the marketplace that turned into a fight.”

  Neti moved around the platform and came to a standstill in front of him, insisting, “Let me have a look,” while reaching for his bandaged arm. Her proximity to him, along with the scent of the anointing oil he had long since come to associate with her, filled his senses. The oil she used smelled different from those the others used. Her chambers also did not hold the reek of death as some other chambers did. And when he had questioned her as to the reason, she had told him that she did not skimp on natron and herbs, and she often burned incense in the evenings.

  Neti touched his arm and a thousand tingles ran up it, as she started to remove the bandage. “You should sit,” she said, pointing toward a stool, after she had removed the bandage, “That way I can have a better look at it.”

  Shabaka complied, and Neti looked at his arm, turning it some before professing, “Hassap,” and looked at him.

  “How did you know?” Shabaka asked, looking at his arm in confusion.

  “He has a certain way of making his stitches,” Neti replied, “He did clean it before stitching? Yes, looks like it,” Neti said, shifting her attention to Shabaka. Their eyes locked for a moment before she spoke, “Just to be safe, I will clean it again and put some beeswax on it. It will lessen the bleeding.”

  Neti turned from him and dropped the bloodstained bandage in the pottery receptacle she used for disposal. “He could use better bandages, though. I know of worn clothes that are of better quality.” She reached for one of the jars from the shelves and picked up one of her bandages before returning to him. Her familiarity with her chambers made her movements appear graceful, effortless, and Shabaka rebuked himself for his wandering thoughts, mere moments before she turned back toward him.

  “So, what brings you here?” Neti asked, as she tipped some palm wine onto a rag, and then held it against the wound. “Because I’m certain you did not come here to have me tend to this.”

  “I need you to be on the lookout,” Shabaka said. His arm became hypersensitive where she worked on it.

  “Why?” Neti questioned.

  “This,” Shabaka said, shrugging his shoulder, “comes courtesy of one of Kadurt’s men.”

  “So he is back in Thebes; Suten-Anu will be pleased at the news,” Neti said, reaching for the jar of beeswax.

  “Well, according to one man, he’s not in Thebes but on the west bank. However, I want you to be careful. I believe he and Ma-Nefer are up to something again.”

  At the mention of Ma-Nefer, Neti looked up at him, frowning, before placing the jar on the platform.

  “From what we learned this morning, Ma-Nefer is in Deir-el-Medina, where he is hoping to trade some of the stolen gems. I believe the two are set to meet.”

  “Do you want me to come with you?” Neti calmly asked, as she reached for the bandage, and then turned back toward him.

  It always astounded him that he hardly had to say anything to her, and that she would just know what his next action would be. “No, I want you to stay here. I’m going to have a guard assigned to you.”

  “Don’t you think that is a bit much?” Neti asked, as she began bandaging his arm.

  “I don’t like the idea of him being anywhere near you, and I have no confirmation he is even in Deir-el-Medina,” Shabaka said, watching as Neti bandaged his arm. It baffled him that she knew exactly how firm to bandage his dressing, and, unlike the others, her bandages never slipped down when he moved.

  “You’re taking Moses with you?”

  “Yes, we’re leaving on the next ferry.”

  “I will tell Yani, although I think she was hoping he would accompany her to the pre-festival gathering.” Neti calmly replied, finishing off the bandage.

  “I didn’t even know until a short while ago that he is keen on her.”

  “She is very nervous of him and does not like being left on her own. I guess she does not want to seem overly keen on him, because there is always the chance that another could catch his eye.”

  Shabaka remained silent for several moments before replying, “So why not make it easier for them, and we all spend some time together this evening?”

  “I can’t, I already have other plans,” Neti calmly replied, as she finished tucking the ends of the bandaged below the previous layer, and then looked up at him, “I’ve been invited to dinner.”

  At a loss for words, Shabaka sat quietly. Ever since their return from Pi-Ramesses, and her acknowledgment from the pharaoh, the citizens of Thebes treated her better, something he was pleased about. However, on the downside, many of the eligible men had also started to pay her a considerable amount of attention, something she appeared to welcome.

  He watched as she returned the jar
and palm wine to their places, and then returned to the body she had been working on, again reaching for the anointing oil. Shabaka took that as his cue to leave.

  “Well, I had better be going,” he said rising from his seat.

  “We’ll come see you off in the morning,” Neti said as he moved toward the doorway. However, he did not see her shoulders slump as he exited the chamber.

  2

  THE SUN HAD HARDLY RISEN over the horizon when the guards carried the various crates and goods to the bark moored at the end of the short quay. The river’s main current had weakened considerably as the season had progressed, with the floodwaters dissipating.

  The air was filled with the sweet scent of freshly cut wheatgrass, as farmers with a predawn start were bringing in their harvests. The rhythmic slivering of sickles through wheat stalks and singing of the workers was carried on the breeze.

  A team of oarsmen moved along the jetty and boarded the bark, moving into position, before taking up their oars in preparation for departure. Their exposed torsos were muscular and darkly tanned, with muscles rippling under their skin.

  During high tides, the river’s current would convey the fully loaded bark to the west bank in a fraction of the time it took the team of oarsmen to navigate it. Most of their work consisted of keeping the bark in the central current and steering clear of the exceedingly aggressive and territorial hippopotami, which were well capable of capsizing a bark and killing those aboard.

  During the low tides, that marked their annual breeding season, hippopotami bulls became so aggressive that most average-size crocodiles remained close to the island banks, or the human-frequented bathing and water-drawing areas. The occurrence made drawing water and bathing exceptionally dangerous, especially for children, during those times. However, during the morning and late afternoon, most hippopotami would graze on the riverbank, rendering those the safest periods in which to cross the river.

  While the group of oarsmen prepared to set off on their trip, four guards, armed with long spears, walked along the jetty, with the captain hastening them along. Shabaka stepped from their small group to address the man, who nodded in agreement several moments later.

  Yani and Moses moved off to the side. The young woman drew a cloth-covered parcel from her satchel before handing it to Moses, who took the proffered offering with a warm smile and placed it in his own satchel.

  Shabaka returned to Neti’s side and watched the interaction between Moses and Yani, stating, “They will make a good pairing.”

  Neti felt a smile tug at her lips, “Yes, they will. He is patient with her; it is nice to see.” She turned her attention to Shabaka, as she continued, “Suten-Anu said Yani had a hard time adapting to her new life, after we left for Pi-Ramesses.”

  “Suten-Anu? When did you see him?” Shabaka was quick to ask, remembering the aged scribe.

  “Last night, at dinner. We were discussing the estate and my income. I told him of your apprehension. He said that I should thank you for your continued devotion to the matter.”

  “He is welcome,” Shabaka replied, before turning to the guard with them and gesturing with his hand as he spoke, “This is Simbel. He has been assigned to you in my absence.” The young guard stepped forward and bowed his head at her. He was darker skinned than most, but not as dark as Shabaka.

  “Surely, this is not needed,” Neti countered.

  “Yes, it is. I don’t like the idea of Ma-Nefer even being a day’s travel from Thebes. Also, you are one of the pharaoh’s representatives, you are to be protected.”

  Neti nodded, knowing she was unlikely to convince him otherwise.

  “We’ll be back in a few days, but until then keep him close, and don’t feed him too much.”

  Neti was about to counter, when the captain called for the men to board. Neti and Yani watching as they boarded the bark. It was untied from the anchorage points, and moments later, the oarsmen started rowing, drawing the laden vessel into the middle of the river.

  On hearing the young woman’s sigh, Neti turned toward her, “They will be fine; it is a workers’ village.”

  “Who are you trying to convince?” Yani asked.

  “Me,” Neti replied, well familiar with Shabaka’s proneness to getting into trouble.

  “Here,” Neti said, taking a bracelet with the eye of Ra insignia from her arm, “Go get some grain from the royal shuty. It will help you pass the time.”

  Yani nodded and took the bracelet, “How much should I get?”

  “It depends on what you want to make for their return, also we will have another to feed,” Neti said, nudging her head toward the guard.

  From a distance, crouched between the reeds, a man watched as the two women turned from the end of the pier and made their way back to the village.

  This time I will get you for what you have done. Your foolish prefect friend is not here to protect you. He shifted his attention to the receding bark. He is too impulsive and does not stop to question matters. Ma-Nefer sniggered at his thoughts. I will deal with him when he returns, but for now, I’m going to enjoy breaking you. He stood from crouching behind the bush. The preceding months had been harsh and had caused him to shed some of his weight, so much so that many did not recognize him, a fact that eased moving about the village. However, his hate for Neti and the black prefect had festered with every hekat he had shed.

  * * *

  Shabaka turned his gaze from the pier and looked toward the opposite bank.

  “You should tell her,” Moses said, coming to stand next to him.

  “It’s not that simple,” Shabaka countered.

  “It is as simple or as difficult as you make it,” Moses deadpanned.

  Shabaka turned his head and glared at him, before again shifting his gaze to the opposite side.

  The bark creaked as the oarsmen hauled on the oars, at times allowing the bark to drift with the current. The four, armed guards stood along the center line of the bark, with two looking either way, their gazes fixed on the water, while another crew member cast a net behind them, an action that confused Shabaka.

  “It’s early, and the fish are close to the surface. We are sometimes lucky and pull out a full net, that we then trade on the west bank when we get there,” the captain spoke up.

  Several moments later, one of the oarsmen called, “Jeer!” while hastily pointing toward the opposite bank. The four guards shifted their attention, and Shabaka watched as the first of a group of hippopotami entered the river from the opposite side.

  “By Ra! They are early this morning,” The captain said and moved to the stern of the ship. The dragging net was quickly hauled up and was only half-filled, when the captain gave the pacesetter instructions to speed up.

  The oarsmen hauled harder on the oars, grunting from the effort it took, while the laden bark only sped up marginally.

  “Look out for the bull!” one of the men called, and Shabaka looked at the water surrounding the bark.

  “Which one is the bull?” Moses asked.

  “The fat one with the long teeth,” one of the oarsmen answered him.

  “They are all fat,” Moses flung back.

  “He is the one that will be coming toward the ship.”

  The next moment the pacemaker stopped, and with him the oarsmen.

  “Why have they stopped?” Shabaka asked, as the captain came past him.

  “We are in the main river current, the jeers do not come here,” the captain answered.

  “So, we are safe?” Moses asked.

  “No, if the others enter lower, we may not be able to moor and will have to drift lower and row back later.”

  Several tense moments passed with everyone’s attentions centered on the opposite bank, where more hippopotami entered the water. Shabaka watched the captain as he scrutinized the bank. His forehead was drawn in a deep scowl, and droplets of sweat broke out over his sun-darkened brow. The man lifted his hand and signaled, to which the pacemaker started with a differing beat
. Shabaka saw the guards brace themselves, and he was almost toppled from his feet when the left-side oarsmen, repeatedly hauled back on their oars, banking the bark a strong left. After which the right-side oarsmen joined in, propelling the bark forward.

  “What the . . .” Moses called, as the ship made for the bank.

  “We need to get out of the central current,” one of the guards said, “We’ve already been in it for too long.” His gaze remained on the group of hippopotami.

  The men hauled hard on the oars, with the bark steadily moving to the far shore. Shabaka watched as the pier came into view and felt his heart race as the pier came closer, while the bark only inched toward it. His attention again shifted to the hippopotami in the water.

  “Do they often attack?” he asked one of the guards.

  “This time of the season, the bull is very aggressive and is likely to attack,” the guard flatly replied.

  Just then, the pacemaker sounded a different beat, and Shabaka watched as the oarsmen swung around, facing the stern of the ship, just as the pier passed them, causing Shabaka to startle, “What now?”

  “They will row us back,” the guard answered.

  “This happens often?”

  “At times,” the guard vaguely answered.

  Steadily, the men lugged on their oars, slowly inching the bark toward the pier.

  Shabaka released a sigh of relief when the anchorage ropes were hauled to the men waiting on the pier’s edge.

  On stepping off the gangplank, Shabaka and Moses were met by one of the medjay guards. The dark-skinned Nubian lowered to his knee on recognizing Shabaka. “Royal prince,” he respectfully spoke, causing everyone to turn toward them, looking at Shabaka in surprise.

  “You may rise, my fellow,” Shabaka spoke, feeling distinctly uncomfortable under everyone’s scrutiny. “You are to address me as the prefect of Thebes.”

  “Yes, prefect. My name is Asphelta. I hold the rank of troop leader. To what do we owe your attendance here?”

  “We,” Shabaka stated, gesturing to Moses, “are looking for a man we believe is hiding in the workers’ village.”