The Mummifier´s Daughter - A Novel in Ancient Egypt

by Nathaniel Burns

  As they stepped from the room she spoke up, “You would not really?”

  “If they resist I will have no choice,” Shabaka returned, causing Neti’s step to falter slightly as Shabaka gathered up a few things he intended to take with him.

  Neti and Shabaka entered the other room, where Asim sat on a small stool, his head lowered as the two guards stood either side of him. Neti looked him over, for a moment concerned that the guards may have forcefully silenced him, but when he lifted his head, she noticed the concern etched on his face. She reached for his shoulder before stating, “She is safe, Asim.”

  Immediately relief washed over the man’s face, and he nodded his head in reply.

  Neti took a seat, accepting the papyrus scroll from one of the guards, along with the ink and quill.

  Shabaka walked about the room, before signaling for the guards to step out, and then looked pointedly at Asim. The man faltered slightly under his gaze, swallowing repeatedly, before lowering his head.

  Shabaka held up a scroll, before harshly demanding, “What do you know of this?”

  Neti immediately recognized it as one of those she had given him, and dropped her gaze toward Asim, who merely looked at the scroll before shaking his head and replying, “I don’t know what it is.”

  “Don’t lie to me!” Shabaka harshly replied, “You will be flogged for lying!” Shabaka stepped closer to the man, who cowered in response, before adding, “This is the scroll you left at Neti’s home the other morning. So I repeat the question. What do you know of this?”

  “I don’t know anything,” Asim quickly replied, looking up at Shabaka, “I could not read it. That’s why I took it to Neti,” he turned to look at her. “I was hoping she could make sense of it. She has always been better at reading than any of us.”

  “Why not take it to a scribe, or Suten Anu?” Shabaka demanded.

  “A scribe would have reported it,” Asim replied, turning to look at Shabaka.

  “Why would you be worried about it being reported?” Shabaka demanded, glaring at the embalmer.

  “All I could make out was quantities and shipments. The rest was foreign to me.”

  “That is not reason enough to be concerned about it being reported,” Shabaka firmly replied.

  “It is not what it contained, but from whom it comes that had me concerned,” Asim replied.

  “Whose scroll is this?” Shabaka demanded.

  “It fell out of one of Ma-Nefer’s worker’s satchels when they were loading goods,” Asim replied.

  “So why not return it?” Shabaka asked, looking pointedly at the man.

  Asim looked at the Nubian for a while, before answering, “For years now, Ma-Nefer has made his fortune off the backs of others. At first, he started out as a shuty, trading on behalf of prosperous landowners and keeping a percentage of the goods for himself. With time, he became known for his abilities to acquire and barter almost anything. But lately very few of us are willing to do business with him.”

  “Why?” Shabaka demanded, “If he is so good why not use his services?”

  “He has become greedy. He asks too much for his services,” Asim replied.

  “That is a common complaint from those who want goods cheaper,” Shabaka replied indifferently.

  “He has recently brought in a whole load of substandard goods, and wants top payment for them, whereas some of the other shuties provide better goods at almost half the price,” Asim affirmed.

  “And this was why you took the scroll?” Shabaka asked in disbelief, “To see where he was cheating you?”

  “No,” Asim said shaking his head, before continuing, “For a while now, many of us have stopped using his services, yet the man still makes a sizeable profit. It did not seem right, especially after that time he came to talk to me.”

  “To talk about what?” Shabaka was quick to ask, for a moment glancing towards Neti.

  Asim saw the exchange and how Neti started scribing, before continuing, “He wanted to know some things about embalming and the process that it involves, as well as what we charge.”

  “What for?” Shabaka asked, confused.

  “I’m not sure, but it got me concerned, especially after the murder of Neti’s parents.” His words had Neti stop, and look at Asim in shock.

  “What do their deaths have to do with it?” Shabaka was quick to demand, his gaze momentarily taking in Neti’s disbelief.

  “Neti’s sudden betrothal got me concerned. There would be no reason for someone like him to seek a wife, he has slaves enough to …” Asim halted himself mid sentence before looking at Neti in apology, before continuing, “least of all one with Neti’s skills.”

  “Why are her skills so important?” Shabaka asked confused.

  “She has watched us from a young age, she knows the processes better than most, and if anyone could do something like that, it would be her,” Asim replied, causing Shabaka to look at Neti in confusion, and seeing her shrug her shoulders in reply.

  “Do what?” Neti asked in response, confusion clouding her voice.

  “Ensure one’s afterlife,” Asim returned, turning to look at her. “You have always had a gift when it came to reading bodies.”

  Neti shook her head in response, swallowing before answering. “I have no idea what you mean by that.”

  Shabaka watched the exchange between them, before looking at Asim and calmly stating, “Why don’t you start from the beginning, and tell us just exactly what you and Ma-Nefer discussed.”

  Asim looked at the Nubian, who had finally settled on a stool, looking at him, and breathed a relieved sigh before starting. “Ma-Nefer came to me one day and wanted to know if it would be possible to ensure one’s afterlife through the embalming process …”

  “That’s nothing strange,” Neti interrupted, adding, “We often get those questions.” Shabaka looked at her, as she continued, “There are many who want to know if the process has anything to do with their final judgment.”

  “Yes,” Asim replied before continuing, “and like all embalmers, I told him that it is not the preservation of the body alone that assures a prosperous afterlife, but the decision of the gods. And only if one’s heart does not weigh equal to that of the feather of maat then Ammit will devour it, annihilating one’s Ba.”

  Shabaka looked towards Neti, who nodded her head, and then returned his gaze to Asim, still uncertain as to what would have caused the man any concern, before distrustfully asking, “That was all?”

  Asim sighed dejectedly, dropping his gaze to the floor, and shook his head before answering, “He asked then if it would be possible to switch hearts during the preparation process.”

  “What!” Neti replied in disbelief, before adding, “That’s sacrilege! Switch hearts! Who would even think of such a thing?”

  Asim lifted his gaze to look at her, before replying, “That’s what I thought, but he seemed taken by the idea, professing that if it all depended upon the weighing of the heart then having a pure heart would ensure an afterlife, and that one could charge whatever price one wanted to for that.”

  “And you agreed to it?” Neti asked in disbelief.

  Asim simply shook his head, “It would take a highly skilled embalmer to do such a thing, if they even were to attempt it, and even then, they could lose their papers if it was discovered. I do not know of one embalmer that would chance doing something like that.”

  “And you told him as much?” Shabaka calmly asked.

  Asim turned to look at Shabaka, replying, “There’s no reasoning with Ma-Nefer when his mind is set, and I did not think anything would come of it until Neti’s parents were murdered.”

  “Because their hearts were removed,” Neti spoke up, nodding her head slightly.

  Asim once again acknowledged, before murmuring, “That, and the fact that you are now betrothed to him.”

  Shabaka cleared his throat, causing both of them to look at him, “The only problem with that is we know that he did not kill Neti�
�s parents. A beerhouse owner said he was there discussing business with some men.”

  Asim remained silent for a while, his head shaking almost imperceptibly, before replying, “It would have been the beerhouse on the south side of Thebes.”

  Shabaka looked at Asim, before getting up, saying, “It was, so you are either lying to me, or not telling the whole truth. Either will result in you being flogged.”

  Asim sat back suddenly, looking fearfully up at Shabaka, stuttering, “I can explain.”

  “You had better, because I don’t take kindly to being lied to,” Shabaka seethed, noting Neti’s cautious glance at him.

  “I know he was there because I saw him,” Asim quickly replied, “I usually go there for a beer before returning home.”

  “So why imply that he killed Neti’s parents?” Shabaka asked, moving behind Asim so he could not see him.

  “I did not,” Asim started turning to look behind him, his voice already fearful, adding, “He sneered at me while they were discussing something and looking over some scrolls. I thought that that was one of them,” he said indicating the scroll Shabaka had left next to his stool, adding, “and that maybe it could help Neti get out of her marriage.”

  Shabaka remained silent for some time, causing Neti to turn and look at him. Asim nervously fidgeted, and finally tried to look at Shabaka.

  “Are you familiar with the new embalmer Karndesh?” Shabaka finally asked.

  “I have seen him with Marlep but I have not spoken to him. He keeps to himself.”

  “So you know nothing about his embalming?” Shabaka asked, looking over the man’s head at Neti, silently commanding her to remain quiet.

  “I would imagine they were the same as any other embalmer’s, maybe with the exception of the usage of herbs,” Asim replied, giving a slight shrug.

  “Has Ma-Nefer ever approached you to process any bodies?” Shabaka asked, placing his hands on the man’s shoulders, causing him to startle and quickly reply, “No.”

  “Not even his slaves?” Shabaka asked, tightening his hold slightly, causing Asim to cringe.

  “No. They are buried in the desert, like the others. There is no preparation for them.”

  Shabaka looked over to Neti, before asking, “And your father?”

  Neti simply shook her head in reply, and continued with her scribing.

  Shabaka then moved from the man before collecting up the scroll next to his seat, asking, “So you have no idea what this is then?”

  “I could only tell dates, and quantities,” Asim replied.

  “As could Neti. It was written in Nubian,” Shabaka dismissed, then demanded, “Why were you avoiding us?”

  Asim visibly swallowed before answering, “Ma-Nefer is a vindictive man. He was already angered that we had placed our requests for fabric with another shuty, and if I was seen talking to you, knowing what I know … if he had anything to do with the death of Neti’s parents, there would be no reason for him not to kill me and my wife as well.”

  Shabaka nodded at that, but noticed how Neti’s gaze dropped, and softly asked, “Neti?”

  She looked up at him, then shrugged her shoulders, “All this time I was wondering why my father would do business with Kadurt, why he would be willing to accept the man’s money, and if he did where would it have gone, and now I know.”

  Asim looked at her frowning, “What money?”

  “My father would have used the money to buy fabrics. He knew how much my mother liked to make clothing. He could never deny her anything.”

  “What does Kadurt have to do with it? I admit, yes, your father did order some fabrics for his Per-Nefer and your mother, but he would never be foolish enough to do business with that man,” Asim replied confused.

  “But he claims that I owed him a hundred and twenty Debben,” Neti replied.

  “Your father was not foolish, He would never have made such debts, as your mother gave up her favorite amulet as part of the payment.”

  “We need to speak to Suten Anu,” Shabaka replied, looking toward Neti, who in turn was looking at Asim in disbelief.

  “The Purity of Heart amulet that Tei-ka wears is my mother’s?” she asked in disbelief.

  “I could not part with it, for I know how much it meant to your mother. But after your father paid the application fees for your certification, and Ma-Nefer demanded upfront payment for the natron, your father did not have enough money to purchase the fabrics. Your mother offered her amulet, as payment toward the fabrics.”

  “But you kept the amulet?”

  “As security. I paid the difference. I had intended to return it once your mother had made some dresses and could repay me the amount. But instead they were murdered,” the last was said in a very dejected tone.

  “And you gave the amulet to Tei-Ka,” Neti replied, before stating, “I would like to buy it back. You can have anything you want, but I would like my mother to be buried with it.”

  “You should discuss it with Tei-Ka, but I will first have to explain to her where it came from.”

  Shabaka cleared his throat, causing both of them to look at him, as he stated, “We should go, Neti.”

  “Can I see my wife?” Asim was quick to ask, his voice hopeful.

  “No, Sit tight,” Shabaka commanded in return, and Asim’s shoulders drooped.

  Neti followed him from the room, holding the scroll open to allow for the ink to dry, and then looked at him in surprise when he commanded two of the closest guards to bring in Kadurt and his men. Shabaka then turned to one of the Captains, and ordered an increase of their surveillance of Ma-Nefer and Pa-Nasi, and that any meetings between them be reported. That included meetings with messengers.

  Neti was just starting to roll the scroll, when two young recruits came into the guardhouse, reporting that Ma-Nefer had earlier been seen talking to a specific scribe at the stores, while his men were loading.

  Shabaka instructed them to discover the man's identity and to report back, before sending another recruit to summon Suten Anu.

  The three-quarter moon had just risen above the horizon when the watcher made his way along the somewhat crowded road in the more affluent side of Thebes, where most of the inhabitants were making their way to some engagement or other. Their preoccupancy with their own matters ensured his anonymity, especially since his dark clothing portrayed him as a foreigner, and one with whom few would associate. He glanced across the road, silently cursing the number of guards present. The previous evening had been similar, and it had been difficult getting close enough to enter the house.

  He tugged his knife back into place under his cloak as he slipped down a side road. A person moving in the opposite direction bumped into him, causing him to hiss slightly, cursing his human body and its limitations. He continued up the road before slipping through a hidden entrance, glancing around again before making his way along the wall.

  He approached the opulent house with ease, and then looked about again, ensuring that there were no guards moving within the premises before entering the home, hissing again as he bumped his knee clambering through the window.

  He glanced around the darkened room. The servants had retired for the evening and he carefully stalked through the house. He glanced about looking for a suitable object. He had not been able to bring his club, which would have drawn too much attention in the streets. He finally found a throwing stick, and he swung it a few times to see how it would handle, before gleefully grinning, thinking that he only needed a few more hearts and then he too would be a god. This man was appointed by the pharaoh, and had a position of power over people. He needed that power, and would take it with his heart.

  He carefully approached the man’s bedroom, slowing when he heard the low grunts emitted within, knowing that the man was rutting. Many women were willing to rut with him, women who liked his power. It was another thing he coveted as he slipped into the room.

  The man was naked, gripping the young woman by her hips as he jerked against
her, his movements fast as he grunted with effort. The intruder fought against his desire to watch them, his own body responding, especially to the young woman’s moans – although he was not certain if they were due to pleasure or pain, her body jerked as the man thrust into her, repeatedly.

  He lifted the throwing stick and stepped closer. The man was too preoccupied with his actions to even glance about him. He brought the stick down hard on the back of the man’s head, causing the man to jerk suddenly before dropping to the ground. The young woman jolted in shock, and turned to look at him, her eyes suddenly enlarging. As he stepped closer, his attention drawn to her body, and his desire to rut with her was overwhelming. However, the woman opened her mouth, screaming. Her action snapped him out of his lust-induced stupor, causing him to once again hoist the throwing stick, knocking her out as well.

  He glanced about, moving into the shadows to see if anyone came looking, and then when nothing happened returned to the two bodies, well aware that the staff had been taught to turn a deaf ear to any screaming originating from the man’s bedroom.

  Shabaka was sitting at his platform, looking over the scrolls under the lamplight, when a young recruit came bolting into the guardhouse, announcing through panted breaths, “There was a scream at the mayor’s house.”

  “That is not unheard of,” one of the guards blithely replied.

  “It was not a pain-filled scream. It was one of terror,” the young recruit professed.

  “Has anyone entered the premises?” Shabaka asked rising from his stool.

  “Not through any of the gates,” the young recruit said.

  “We’ll go see what’s up anyway,” Shabaka said stepping around his platform, when one of the guards joked, “Leave it. The man is obviously rutting one of the young slave girls. They tend to scream the first time, wouldn’t want to be interrupted if I were him.”

  Shabaka looked pointedly at the man, before gesturing toward Neti-Kerty and Tei-Ka who were present in the room. The guard shrugged his shoulders, replying, “They are old enough to understand.”

  “That they may, but it does not excuse bad manners,” Shabaka reprimanded the man, before adding, “You can remain here with the embalmer and his wife. We will go to see what is happening at the mayor’s house.” Shabaka nodded to Neti to accompany him.