The Mummifier´s Daughter - A Novel in Ancient Egypt

by Nathaniel Burns

  “The prefect has assured me that the checks will be halted once the murderer is caught,” the mayor, Pa-Nasi, replied, lifting his hands slightly in an attempt to calm those within the room. “It is better than closing the city gates entirely, and barring all boats from mooring here,” the mayor firmly added. His words had everyone in the room fall silent, glancing at one another. “This arrangement allows you to continue your trade,’ the mayor concluded, before lifting his gaze to his house servant, noticing the new arrivals and demanding, “What do you want?”

  The young recruit bowed his head in greeting, before speaking, “A runner from Anum has arrived at the Northern Gates with documents. I have brought him here as instructed, Sir.”

  The mayor looked at the man standing next to the recruit, before brusquely demanding, “State your business. Can you not see I am busy?”

  The runner shifted slightly on his feet, before hesitantly speaking up, “I bring documents from Anum.”

  “Well don’t just stand there spreading roots like a papyrus, hand them over!” Pa-Nasi demanded, holding his hand out for the scroll.

  The runner hesitated for a moment, before replying, “But these documents are not for you.”

  The mayor glared at the man, before indicating the room full of people, “You see these people. They are here complaining to me about the restrictions of movement imposed on this town.” The mayor’s words had the runner look around the room, noticing the hostile faces.

  “At this moment, everything coming into and going out of Thebes is under scrutiny. So, hand those documents over,” the mayor commanded.

  The runner nodded his head and stepped closer, holding out the scroll towards Pa-Nasi. “Here,” he said as he placed the scroll in the mayor’s bulbous hand.

  The mayor looked at the scroll for a moment, before breaking the seal in front of those present.

  The runner made to object but was cautioned by the recruit, and instead remained silent, as the mayor opened the scroll, looking it over, before handing it to his appointed scribe to read, demanding, “Tell those in the room what it is about,” while unswervingly looking at Ma-Nefer.

  The scribe took the scroll, reading through it before speaking up. “It is an official document certifying that Neti-Kerty may practice as an embalmer,” the scribe replied before once again rolling up the scroll and handing it to the mayor.

  “That cannot be,” one of the elders spoke up in protest. “She will forsake their souls.”

  The runner for a moment looked towards the young recruit, as another elder spoke up, “The witch of the dead cannot be allowed to practice.”

  The mayor took the scroll from his scribe, before turning towards the runner, commanding, “You are dismissed.”

  The young man looked about the room, before replying, uncertainly, “But I am to deliver that to the overseer directly.”

  “I will see that he gets it,” Pa-Nasi dismissingly replied. “You can go.”

  The young recruit indicated to the runner that they should leave, and the runner reluctantly swayed on his feet.

  “Well, what are you waiting for?” the mayor demanded, “Get along with you,” he commanded, before turning back to the elders with him, placing the scroll next to him on the floor.

  Neti-Kerty was seated at the grinding stone, in the process of grinding wheat for her bread. She looked at her supply of wheat, judging that she would soon need to go to the market to get some more. She halted her actions for a moment, contemplating what excess vegetables she had in the garden down by the Nile, and which she could possibly trade for more wheat. She did not want to spend any more of her money, and bartering her excess vegetables seemed the most viable option. Her mother had planted enough food to feed their family, but it was more than enough now.

  She took another handful of grain from the sack, casting it into the hollowed out stone, once again taking hold of the grinding stone and rolling it with practiced ease. She had to make extra bread as offering to the gods, feeling guilty for having neglected her offerings and daily prayers.

  The rhythmic grinding of the grain between the stones soothed her nerves. It was an activity she had always found comforting, one she preferred above weaving or drawing water. Her mother had insisted upon her acquiring all these skills, but she found weaving to be the most difficult, often making mistakes and having to undo and reset everything, whereas the rhythmic grinding soon had her humming while she worked the grain into fine flour.

  She was just about to add another handful of wheat to the grinding stones, when a knock sounded at the door. Neti rose from her position, dusting off her hands before making for the door as the second, and more insistent, knock sounded. Her heart skipped a beat at the thought of it being Shabaka, as it had been a few days since she had last seen him. There had been no murders since their visit to the main Per-Nefer chambers, and he had since needed to focus his attention on other matters.

  She opened the door, smiling warmly until she noticed an unknown man standing there. He was dressed in pale threadbare clothing that was stained in places, suggesting him to be a slave of some sorts. He swayed from side to side, nervously looking about him while remaining at a distance from her.

  “Can I help you?” Neti asked as she stepped fully into the doorway.

  “Ugh. Yes.” The man started uncertainly, once again looking about him, before continuing, “I have come to collect monies owing to Kadurt.”

  Neti looked at him for a moment, her gaze then dropping to the ground as she tried to recollect if there was any mention of a Kadurt in her father’s will, before she shook her head and returned her stare to the man. “I’m sorry, but I do not recall owing him anything.”

  The slave once again glanced around, before hesitantly pulling out a scroll, replying, “According to this, Kadurt made a payment to your father for his burial. However, with your father’s death, he now requests the return of his money, as he no longer has need for the services from you.”

  Neti looked at the man in confusion. “I know nothing of these arrangements,” she stated, before glancing at the document he held, “Could I have a look at that document?”

  The slave carefully handed her the scroll, maintaining some distance from her, and watched as she unrolled the scroll and read it. “I will need to speak to Suten Anu regarding this matter. He handles my father’s concerns,” Neti stated as she rolled up the scroll.

  The slave looked at her in dismay, before bemoaning, “I am to return to Kadurt with payment. He insisted so,”

  “We can go to Suten Anu’s offices now,” Neti offered. “I cannot make such a large payment without knowing the estate’s matters.” Neti’s heart was pounding, knowing that she might not have sufficient funds to cover the requested amount.

  The slave looked hesitantly at her, and then at the scroll she held, remembering the beating his master had promised him if he did not succeed, before finally nodding in agreement.“We can go.”

  The slave stepped back and allowed Neti to step from the house. Once she had closed the door, he gestured for her to precede him, allowing some distance between them before following her to the old scribe’s offices.

  Their walk to Suten Anu’s offices was not long, and many of those they passed on the road gazed after them in bewilderment.

  Neti entered Suten Anu’s office, and the elderly scribe looked up at her, smiling warmly on recognition until he noticed the man with her, and instead of greeting her, he asked, “Neti, dear child, what is this?” while indicating the man who came to a standstill behind her.

  “Good day Suten, I apologize for intruding. However, this man claims that I owe Kadurt payment,” Neti stated gesturing toward the man standing behind her. “I need you to confirm if it is so,” Neti concluded, holding the scroll out for the elderly man to take.

  Suten Anu rose from his seat, stepping round his desk before taking the scroll from her. He opened it and read through before looking at the man, declaring, “I know nothing of the
se arrangements, and I deal with all the estate’s matters,” before once again looking over the document, and asking, “Why did your owner not submit this to me the morning after the embalmer’s death?”

  When the slave failed to answer, Suten Anu lifted his gaze, looking pointedly at the man, who stuttered, “I do not know,” in reply, adding, more firmly, “I only know that he demands payment, today.”

  Suten Anu again looked at the papyrus scroll, for a moment considering what in the estate would cover such an exorbitant amount.

  “I do not know of any practice in which one makes payment for his burial arrangements before their death. I know that many acquire riches and possessions for their burial beforehand, but I have never heard of any paying an embalmer until his services are needed,” Suten Anu started, halting for a moment as he studied some of the hieroglyphics detailing payments. “I will need to consult with the overseer regarding the legality of this matter, as a hundred-and-twenty Debben is an exorbitant amount for such services, especially since no mention is made for the provision of a sarcophagus.”

  “But Kadurt demands payment now,” the man insisted, his distress evident in his voice, causing Suten Anu to look at him before nodding his head.

  “Your owner will beat you if you return with nothing,” Suten remarked, causing the man to incline his head in reply. He turned to his desk and extracted a sheet of paper, before turning to Neti. “Until such time as this matter is resolved, we will pledge the wooden door as partial payment,” he stated looking at Neti, who acknowledged his reply. He turned his attention to the slave. “It is worth at least twenty-five Debben,”

  “But he demands full payment now,” the slave insisted as Suten Anu started scribing on a piece of paper.

  “There are few who could afford such a payment outright. I dare say even the pharaoh would think twice before making such a payment.” Suten Anu paused from his writings and regarded the slave, “Until the actual legality of this matter, and the payment for these services has been corresponded, there will be no further payments.”

  “But the money is due him,” the slave complained.

  “And I dare say he did not make this payment in haste. A contract would have to be properly written first,” Suten said, turning for the door, “I will accompany you for the collection of the door.”

  Neti stepped from Suten Anu’s office, and fell in step with him as they returned to her home. “I apologize for this,” she said as they walked along the road.

  “Do not fuss dear child, it is why I am here,” he replied dismissively.

  “You will speak with Marlep about this?” Neti questioned, turning to look at the slave who followed at a safe distance.

  “I will go to see him, but you know nothing of these arrangements?”

  “No, I do not. But my father has always handled our income. I do not know much about it,” Neti honestly replied. “However, a hundred-and-twenty Debben is a lot of money. I cannot remember any time when we had such wealth.”

  “That is exactly why this requires further inquiries,” Suten remarked, as they approached Neti’s home. Then he asked while indicating the door, “You have something to place in the doorway?”

  Neti nodded her head in response, before adding, “I can use the reed-mat from the kitchen, until I have time to make something more suitable.”

  Suten Anu helped the slave to remove the door, before handing him the newly scribed scroll. Bidding the man farewell, he turned to Neti and asked, “Have you heard from the Anum regarding your papers?”

  “No I have not,” Neti dejectedly replied. “I think he may have turned down my application, and if that is the matter, I will not be able to buy out of my marriage to Ma-Nefer even if the Kenbet rule in my favor, especially since this—” Neti said indicating the door.

  “Let us first see if the documents are authentic,” Suten Anu said.

  “You think they may not be?” Neti asked in surprise.

  “ Kadurt is known for forging documents, although it has never been substantiated, or any of the matters taken to the Kenbet for assessment. He is not the first person to attempt to gain from others’ misfortune. And I dare say your father was known to be highly proficient in his profession, which makes it very difficult to contest such an arrangement,” Suten Anu calmly replied, before smiling warmly at Neti. “But until such time as its legitimacy is confirmed, I suggest we return to our duties, as your flour will not grind itself.”

  “How did you know?” Neti quickly asked, with a slight tilt of her head..

  Suten Anu raised a finger towards her head, “There is some in your wig.”

  Neti reached up a little, brushing and laughing as she replied, “I should have cleaned up before approaching you.”

  “Whatever for, my dear? For this old fool? I dare say I’m not your prefect friend,” Suten Anu was quick to respond to Neti’s lighter mood and to tease her.

  “You are not an old fool,” Neti said quickly in return. “You are a very wise man, and a true friend,” she sincerely added, before her voice dipped slightly, “besides Shabaka is just a person I help. I do not think he sees me in such a way.”

  “Sometimes my child, I think we spent too much time educating you, that we have taken from you the skills to recognize when a man is taken by you.”

  Neti shook her head at that. “I’m certain he already has a wife, and children. He is too good a person not to. Also, he is only here by order of the pharaoh.”

  Suten Anu looked at her for a moment, before reaching for her shoulder, “Have you asked him my dear? It is not unknown for Nubians to have more than one wife.”

  “I could not do that!” Neti quickly replied, “And I would not want to be one of many either.”

  Suten Anu nodded his head at that. “That I can well understand my child, but like you I need to return to my work. I will see to this and let you know in the morning.” And with that, he took his leave of her.

  Ma-Nefer stepped from the mayor’s home, a smug grin on his face as a sense of glee filled him, thinking that it was all starting to fall into place. He swung a closed reed basket over his shoulder, checking its contents, before moving along the street, sidestepping a woman returning from the river and her annoying children that were running about unchecked. He could not understand why some would want to burden themselves with children. They only cost more to feed and made no real contribution to the household until they were weaned and trained.

  He sidestepped a young boy, knocking him to the ground in the process, and did not even bother to turn around to check when the child started crying. He finally turned onto a derelict path, and glanced about to ensure that no one had followed him, before continuing further along it.

  He entered a darkened passageway and lit the lamp that was left at the entrance, before continuing on to the abandoned Per-Nefer chamber. He held up the lamp as he entered the room, casting it in a pale glow, while looking around, sneering when he saw the canopic jar standing on the platform. He walked over to the platform, placing the lamp on it before reaching out and stroking the engraved insignia on the jar. He lifted its lid to check the contents, before closing the jar and placing his basket on the platform. Removing its lid and reaching into it he extracted an empty canopic jar and placed it on the platform, before putting the filled one into the basket. He then stepped from the platform and turned to check on the natron supply, knowing that it would be a whole moon cycle before the next shipment arrived. Satisfied with the supply, he returned to the platform to collect up his basket, carefully replacing the lid over the jar inside it, before reaching for the lamp and leaving the chamber.

  He made his way back to his trading post as quickly as his feet could convey his bulk, and once there, he secluded himself in the back of one of the storage areas. He extracted the canopic jar from the basket, looking it over, smiling smugly as he placed it upon the shelf with the others.

  The quarter moon was slowly sinking away as the gray light of dawn started to c
reep over the horizon. In the still streets, a bulkily dressed figure moved along the path, glancing about to ensure that no one saw his progress. He came to a halt in front of a doorway, for a moment glancing confused at the reed mat covering it. However, he pushed it out of the way before stepping inside.

  The rooms within were dark, with only the outlines of furniture visible. The man made his way to the small table on which the lamp stood, using the flint stones next to it to light it.

  He looked about the room as the lamp cast a low glow, before making his way to her sleeping chamber. He reached toward the fabric partition, moving it out of the way, before reaching under his cloak, resetting the object hidden from view, and continuing to her bedside. He watched her sleep for a moment in the pale light, his heart feeling heavy as a weighty sigh escaped him. He placed the lamp next to the bed, before reaching out toward her, almost touching her when her eyes suddenly shot open.

  He immediately smacked his hand over her mouth to prevent her from screaming. Her hand instantly reached for his, gripping it to pull it away, as her eyes enlarged in recognition. He pushed down harder in order to keep his hand in place. His grip tightening, his fingers pushing up against her nose, making breathing almost impossible, causing her to struggle against him.

  Neti shook her head in an attempt to dislodge his hand, her heart pounding faster as her body’s demand for oxygen increased. Little dots started blurring her vision as her lungs burnt in need of air. She opened her jaw as far as she could, once again shaking her head before clamping down hard on whatever part of his hand she could. He screamed in objection and jerked his hand away, knocking over the lamp and dropping the bulky object from beneath his cloak as he stumbled away from the bed, clasping his one hand in the other, gasping in pain.

  Neti immediately moved, reaching for the earthenware pot that stood next to her bed, and lifting it, before flinging it at him, shouting, “Asim, Get out!”