Uh-oh …
Felix glanced at the younger thief hopefully, but he was nodding his agreement.
‘You’re right,’ he said. He shot Felix a look of distaste. ‘So what should we do with him?’
The older thief thought for a moment. ‘I know – let’s sacrifice him to Osiris.’
The younger man’s eyes lit up. ‘Yes! Then we can burn his body and scatter the ashes in a field to ensure a fertile harvest.’
UH-OH!
The older man waved a dismissive hand. ‘Don’t be absurd. We’re hardly going to do that.’
Phew! Felix sagged against the wall.
‘We don’t have the time,’ the older thief concluded. ‘We’ll just slit his throat and leave him.’ His hand moved down to a knife tucked in his belt. ‘Take him back to the alley,’ he directed, ‘and I’ll do it there.’
‘No!’ Felix tried to run but the younger man snatched his arm and squeezed it in a grip so tight Felix cried out.
‘Oh no, you don’t.’ Hooking his arm around Felix’s neck in a chokehold, he dragged him back into the shadows.
As the older man drew the knife from his belt, Felix began to tremble. And to think he’d called General Porcius unlucky!
Felix let out a whimper as the young man wrenched his head back to expose Felix’s throat. As the cold blade of the knife touched his flesh, he closed his eyes. When he next opened them, he would be in the Underworld.
Chapter 13
‘My sons …’
At the sound of the rasping voice, Felix opened his eyes. The knife that had been pressed against his throat was hastily concealed.
Silhouetted in the entrance to the alley was the bent figure of an old woman.
‘What are you doing, my sons?’
Leaning heavily on her walking stick, she took two tottering steps towards them.
‘Wh-who are you?’ the younger thief asked.
‘I am a priestess of Isis,’ she intoned. ‘And she has bid me come here. But why?’ She thrust her head forwards as if squinting. ‘Why am I here?’
‘W-we don’t know, mistress,’ said the older thief.
‘Then I must wait for a sign,’ the priestess rasped.
She half raised a trembling hand and then tapped her shoulder twice.
For a moment nothing happened. Then there came a harsh cry from above, drawing their attention upwards. A dark shape swooped from the sky and came to rest on the old woman’s hunched shoulder.
The thieves took a step back so that they were behind Felix.
‘Is that a kite on her shoulder?’ one whispered.
‘It must be a sacred kite of Isis,’ muttered the other.
The priestess was still peering at them. ‘My sons, is this boy your prisoner?’
‘H-he is a thief.’ The older man gestured to the basket on the ground.
As Felix opened his mouth to protest, the other added, ‘And a foreigner. With red hair.’
‘Ah,’ said the woman, nodding. ‘I see. So, the boy is a son of Set. You did well to capture him, my sons.’ She paused, then cocked her head. ‘What is that?’
‘I didn’t say any—’
‘Not you,’ she rasped, hushing the thief. ‘Tell me, o sacred bird, what is your will?’
Felix’s heart began to pound as the bird fixed its beady gaze on him. Was he about to be sacrificed to Osiris after all?
Abruptly the bird launched itself from the old priestess’s shoulder and flew towards the trio. It circled them twice before coming to rest on Felix’s left shoulder.
Its claws dug into his skin and Felix was only able to resist crying out for fear of alarming the bird and causing it to tighten its grip still further.
The priestess nodded. ‘Yes, I see,’ she murmured. Then, raising her voice, she said, ‘You must release this son of Set. Osiris and Isis forgive him.’
The two thieves gazed at her open-mouthed.
‘Go, son of Set!’ She thrust out her hand dramatically, pointing to the entrance of the alleyway.
The bird took off and Felix, almost stumbling in his haste, followed it.
He had no idea where he was; he had become hopelessly lost while chasing the thieves. But the bird was ahead of him – had saved him – so he kept following it through the tangle of streets, none of which seemed familiar.
After what seemed like an eternity, they reached a square and the bird flew up to rest on the branch of a tree. Gazing around him, Felix felt a moment of joy as he recognised the square he had been sitting in. But, he saw, his heart sinking, there was no sign of his friend.
‘Why do you have to walk so fast?’ a rasping voice behind him scolded. ‘How do you expect an old woman to keep up?’
Turning, Felix saw the priestess. She was leaning on her stick and holding the basket the thieves had stolen.
‘I believe this is yours?’
‘No,’ said Felix. ‘It belonged to a woman who was here earlier.’ He gestured towards the quay where the Roman commander and Egyptian woman had been conversing. Though the ship and barge remained, there was no sign of the pair. ‘Those other men stole it, not me.’
‘Do you really expect me to believe that?’
The old woman straightened and threw back the hood on her cloak.
‘Livia!’ said Felix. For several seconds he just gaped at her, too astonished to speak. When his voice returned, he said, ‘That was you in the alley? You were the priestess?’
‘Me and my sacred bird,’ his friend agreed.
Felix shook his head in wonder. ‘You were amazing. But how did you manage to plan all that?’
Livia laughed. ‘I didn’t plan any of it! I just ran after you when you chased the thieves. I brought your stick in case I needed to hit someone.’ She held out the stick. ‘I started to get really worried when I heard them talking about making sacrifices, then I remembered the story Amoses told us about Isis and the kite.’
Felix looked at the bird preening its feathers on the branch above them. ‘But what was the kite doing there? How did you get it to obey your orders?’
Livia shrugged. ‘When I took off it flew after me. Wanted more of this, I suppose.’ She opened her palm to reveal the end of a sausage, which she flung onto the ground.
In a lightning-quick move, the bird swooped down and tore at it with its beak.
‘When it saw you in the alley it must have recognised you from when you fed it earlier,’ Livia speculated. ‘Meantime, I wonder what happened to the girl who lost this?’ She gestured to the basket she still carried. ‘We should try to return it.’
Felix surveyed their surrounds anxiously. The light was fading, the shadows growing long. The port was likely to be a dangerous place after dark. ‘We need to find passage on a ship as soon as possible,’ he said, scanning the docks.
‘It’s almost dusk; there’ll be no more ships sailing tonight,’ Livia pointed out.
‘Well, we can’t hang around here. Let’s find an inn where we can spend the night. Then we can come back at dawn and ask around for passage.’
‘I think there was a main street just a couple of blocks inland from the harbour,’ Livia said, pointing. ‘We crossed it when we were chasing the thieves.’
Felix took the satchel and Livia carried the basket, and they set off back along the narrow street the thieves had taken, emerging onto a wide boulevard.
Keen to put some distance between them and the raffish port, they walked quickly at first, passing baths and temples, grand houses and shops with barely a glance. But as the sandy spaces between the buildings grew larger, and the buildings themselves grew smaller and shabbier, Felix realised they must be nearing the edge of town.
He stopped a man hurrying past with a scroll held tightly in one hand. ‘Excuse me, do you know of an inn nearby?’
The man paused and tapped his lip thoughtfully. ‘There’s a caravanserai just beyond the city limits.’ He gestured over his shoulder, where the buildings petered out.
Felix peered i
n the direction the man was pointing. All he could see was sand.
‘What’s a carasa— a canavar—’ Felix gave up.
‘A caravanserai,’ the man repeated patiently. ‘It’s like an inn, but larger. It’s for travellers who have come from the desert.’
Felix glanced at Livia, who shrugged.
‘That’ll do,’ she said.
‘Keep going that way,’ said the man. ‘You can’t miss it.’
The caravanserai was further away than it seemed, though, and it was dark by the time they reached an imposing gate with a lantern hung beside the entrance.
‘Hello?’ Felix called.
The innkeeper stepped out to meet them.
‘We’re looking for a room for the night,’ Felix said.
The innkeeper looked from Felix to Livia, then craned his neck to peer over their shoulders into the dark. ‘Who are you travelling with? Where’s your camel?’
‘Our, uh, camel is hurt,’ Felix invented. ‘And our father stayed with it. He sent us ahead to, uh …’
Turning towards Livia, he widened his eyes and shrugged almost imperceptibly.
‘To buy some camel ointment from the …’ Livia trailed off, the silence stretching so long that both Felix and the innkeeper seemed to lean into it. ‘From the camel ointment market,’ she finished.
The innkeeper rocked back on his heels. ‘The camel ointment market?’ he repeated. ‘What camel ointment market? I’ve never heard of such a thing.’
Livia affected surprise. ‘I thought surely a city as big and important as Alexandria would have a market specialising in camel ointments and liniments and so forth,’ she said. ‘In Rome we have three.’
Before the innkeeper could question this further – he might ask, for example, why Rome had three markets devoted to camel ointments but no actual camels – Felix pulled Titus’s purse from the satchel.
At the sight of it the innkeeper’s expression smoothed and he said, ‘I believe we have a room on the upper level, if that would suit you.’
‘Thank you,’ said Felix. ‘It would.’
The innkeeper showed them to a bare room with two narrow cots, then stumped back down the stairs.
Felix stretched out on one of the cots and immediately sat back up. ‘I’m hungry. Do we have anything left to eat?’
Livia shook her head as she sat down on the cot opposite. ‘I gave the last of it to the bird.’
Felix lay down again. ‘We should have asked the innkeeper if he served food.’
Livia shook her head again. ‘I’m not going back down there. What if he asks about the ointment markets?’
Felix gave a snort of laughter. ‘What were you thinking? In Rome we have three.’
Livia giggled. ‘I panicked,’ she said. ‘Anyway, let me check the basket – maybe the Egyptian woman was delivering food to the Roman galley.’
‘It might be cake,’ said Felix, thinking of the sacred chicken.
Livia pulled back the cloth covering the basket. ‘No, there’s nothing to eat. There’s only this.’ She took out a package wrapped in linen so fine it was almost transparent.
Felix got up from his cot and joined Livia on hers, watching as she unwrapped the linen to reveal a small wooden box inlaid with mother of pearl. Slowly she lifted the lid.
‘What is it?’ Felix asked, trying to peer over the lid of the box.
‘Coins,’ Livia breathed. ‘Gold coins.’ She counted. ‘Twelve of them.’
She held out a gleaming coin and Felix took one.
‘This side has a picture of Caesar,’ he said, studying it. Flipping it over, he saw the profile of a woman with dead-straight hair and a dead-straight nose. ‘I bet this is Cleopatra,’ he said.
‘They look really valuable,’ Livia said. ‘We have to return them.’
‘Tomorrow,’ said Felix, smothering a yawn. ‘We’ll find the woman we saw by the quay and give them back to her.’ He stood up and went back to his own cot. ‘I really wish she had been carrying food though.’
Chapter 14
Felix woke early, roused by hunger pangs.
He glanced over at Livia and saw that she was still sleeping. She seemed so peaceful he hated to disturb her – but he had to eat. Taking the waterskin and a few coins from the purse Titus had given them, he left the room to see if he could buy some food and fill their flask.
The stairs outside their room led to a central paved courtyard in which stood dozens of camels and mules. Felix quickly spotted a boy carrying a tray of flatbreads, and he exchanged a coin for two rounds of bread. Biting into one, he surveyed the traders in long robes loading up their animals. ‘Where are they going?’ he asked the boy who’d sold him the bread.
The boy shrugged. ‘Some are taking goods to sell at the markets here in Alexandria. Some are going the other way, across the desert.’
Felix walked further into the courtyard, heading towards the well in the centre. As he weaved around the camels and their masters, he couldn’t help staring. He’d never seen a camel up close. In fact, he’d never seen one from a distance either. He was surprised to learn they were tall – taller even than General Porcius’s stallion – with large humps on their backs, skinny legs, long necks and long noses. Their thick coats were the colour of the desert sand he could see through the open gate of the caravanserai.
Most of the camels ignored him as he slipped between them, but one who was standing off to the side gave Felix a curious look as he passed.
Pausing, Felix broke off a piece of bread and held it out.
The camel extended its long neck to take the bread from Felix’s palm with its big lips.
Tentatively, Felix reached out to pat the camel’s furry snout. ‘Hello, camel,’ he said. ‘My name’s Felix.’
The camel paused in its chewing, blinked its long lashes and said, ‘My name is Felix too!’
‘Really?’ said Felix. ‘That’s funny.’ He took another bite of bread and tore off a second piece for Felix the camel.
‘Where are you going? My friend and I are going to Rome.’
Through a mouthful of bread the camel replied, ‘We’re going to Rome too!’
Felix regarded the camel with surprise. ‘I thought you could only get to Rome from here by ship,’ he said.
‘I’m a ship too!’ the camel said brightly.
Felix supposed he was right; he did recall hearing camels spoken of as ships of the desert. ‘Well, maybe I’ll see you in Rome then.’
He continued on to the well, filled the waterskin, then headed back to the room and Livia. He should probably wake her, he thought, as they would need to find the Egyptian woman to return the coins before finding passage on a ship to Rome.
The activity in the courtyard seemed to have increased while Felix had his back turned. It was as if some signal had been given, and people were moving at double speed.
‘Why is everyone in such a hurry?’ he asked the innkeeper, who was standing at the bottom of the stairs with his hands on his hips, watching the bustle.
‘We’ve just heard that a patrol of Roman soldiers is on its way. They’re searching for two thieves, apparently. No one wants their journey delayed while the soldiers question them.’
At once Felix thought of the two men he’d encountered the day before. ‘I think I might have seen the thieves down at the port,’ he volunteered.
The innkeeper raised his eyebrows. ‘Is that so? They’re saying two young Romans were seen at the port yesterday – and they stole some precious coins. Very precious …’
He must be referring to the gold coins he and Livia had found in the basket, Felix realised.
‘The thieves I saw were local men,’ he began.
But the innkeeper shook his head. ‘No, they definitely weren’t locals. Two young travellers arrived yesterday on a ship from Rome, they reckon, just before the coins were stolen.’ He shook his head. ‘I wouldn’t like to be in their shoes when they’re caught. They’ll have quite a punishment in store, I bet.’
‘My guess is they’ll be buried alive in a tomb,’ said the innkeeper with relish. Then, as if realising who he was talking to, he said, ‘Hold on … didn’t your sister say something about Rome yesterday?’
‘N-no, I don’t think so,’ Felix said.
‘Yes, she did – she was talking about the markets of Rome.’ The innkeeper’s eyes narrowed.
‘Oh, that,’ said Felix, with a nervous laugh. ‘You might have thought she said “Rome” but she was probably saying “home”. She often says “r” in the place of “h”. You know … calls for relp when she’s in trouble and, uh, prefers to bathe in rot water.’
The innkeeper was staring at him with a look that mingled suspicion and incredulity.
‘I’d better be going,’ Felix babbled. ‘Our father will be waiting … with the camel …’ He spun around and took the stairs two at a time.
Bursting into the room, he called, ‘Livia. Livia! Wake up!’
She sat up abruptly. ‘What is it?’ She rubbed her eyes. ‘Why did you let me sleep so long? We need to get back to the port to find a ship. Oh, and return those coins …’
‘We’re going to have to change our plans,’ Felix said urgently. ‘Listen.’ Quickly, he repeated what the innkeeper had said about the stolen coins.
‘You mean they think we’re the thieves? Well, we’ll just tell them the truth. It was those two men.’
‘We have no proof,’ Felix pointed out. ‘And we do have the basket with the coins. Do you think the patrol will believe us?’
Livia’s face fell. ‘Probably not,’ she admitted. She stared at Felix, her expression desperate. ‘What are we going to do?’ she said. ‘I have to get to Rome. My brother …’ She paused, then continued: ‘But we can’t risk being seen hanging around by the docks. If only there were ships leaving from somewhere else.’
I’m a ship too … Felix was struck by an idea. ‘I think there is another way to Rome,’ he said. ‘There’s a camel caravan downstairs about to leave for Rome. Maybe we can travel with them.’
They hastily gathered their belongings. Felix put the remaining flatbread and waterskin into the satchel and picked it up. Grasping his stick, he said, ‘Ready?’
The Chicken's Curse Page 9