“You are useless to me. I can’t have any sniveling half breeds running about. They are useless, you stupid woman. I cannot even sell a half breed!” he affronted.
Neti tried to rise, but her body felt too weak, sickened further by his words.
“You might as well stay here and die, for you are of no good to anyone,” he returned, before kicking her in the side, hard.
Neti grunted against the pain that shot through her body, folding in on herself, hoping it would lessen the pain.
Ma-Nefer then turned from her, once again chasing the donkey ahead of him up the passageway, yanking the mule behind him.
When he got to the top, he opened the doorway and glanced about, before allowing the animals to go out, closing the chamber once again.
It was as he was clambering onto the mule that he noticed the guards’ entry into the temple precinct from the southern entrance. Their white clothes made them easy to spot in the fading moonlight. He swore under his breath as he turned the mule toward the gate, pulling the donkey along as he whacked them on their quarters, causing them both to shoot forward in response, the mule staggering slightly under his bulk, almost unseating him. They trotted down the avenue of sphinxes and turned right, heading east.
He made it to the nearest underbrush before turning his gaze back toward the gate, urging the animals off the road slightly as he watched the gate. It was only a while later that two guards took up their positions there.
He knew that there was no way they would discover her or the secret chamber, and turned his attention back to the path he was cutting through the wild vegetation.
Shabaka was hobbling on the southern side of the temple on Amun-Ra near the sacred pool. One of the guards had tied his arm to his body, making it almost impossible to move, and he winced slightly as he slowly moved about.
There had been no word yet and the guards were still searching the grounds, when one of the herders approached him, “Prefect Shabaka,” the man hesitantly started, already causing Shabaka’s heart to drop, knowing the news could no be good.
“Yes,” Shabaka replied, turning to face the man.
“There is a donkey and mule missing from the stalls,” he hesitantly continued, and then added, “The guard said I should report it to you.”
“Where!” Shabaka demanded.
“They are kept in the temple precinct of Montu.”
“Take me there, at once!” Shabaka instructed and then walked as speedily as he could toward the temple.
He was faint with pain, and covered in a sheen of sweat when they finally stopped at the stalls. He gasped as he fought the darkness threatening to take hold of him. Bile rose in his throat at the sight of the two empty stalls, knowing there would be little chance of catching them now.
Shabaka braced his good shoulder against the post of the stall, breathing deeply as his eyes closed. He was tired, most of the men were tired, and there was no way that they would give chase, not after having been up the whole night.
The guards guarding the precinct came closer, one speaking to the herder before helping Shabaka upright, and commanding one of the others, “Go fetch his chariot. We need to get him to a healer.”
In his pain-filled haze, Shabaka’s gaze landed on a dark skinned man, dressed in the robes of the western barbarians. He peered into the distance, noticing how the man beckoned him to approach.
Shabaka pulled his good arm from the guard holding it, and blindly started in the westerner’s direction. The guard grasped at his arm and tried to stop him, looking around to see what had captured his attention, but failed to notice anything.
A new sheen of sweat started glistening on Shabaka’s brow as he neared the area where the dark skinned man stood, tilting his head slightly, when the man’s foreign accent reached his ears, “That what you seek is beyond the wall.”
The guard following Shabaka looked about in concern at the Prefect’s actions, especially since there was nothing there, and Shabaka seemed to be looking intently at one place.
“Follow the footsteps. What you seek is closer than you think, but farther that you can imagine.”
Shabaka shook his head, drawing in a deep breath and lowering his gaze to the ground … when he saw it – animal tracks.
He lifted his head suddenly, the action leaving him slightly light-headed as he sought out the dark figure, but it was gone. Lowering his gaze again he started following the tracks. The guard moved to catch up with him and was about to say something when he noticed the trail Shabaka was following, one that led directly to the wall.
Shabaka halted at the wall, the hoof prints seemed to both disappear and reappear from the wall, the area well trampled.
Shabaka turned to the guard, weakly commanding, “Get the others to follow the tracks leading away and see where they go,” before turning to the wall, mumbling, “beyond the wall.”
He looked closely at it, his pain-dazed mind finding it difficult to concentrate on things. Eventually he rested his forehead against the wall, trying his best to keep his footing, when a man in one of the temple’s robes took his shoulder, drawing him back. Some of the guards rushed towards them, but halted in amazement when the man placed his hand on a brick, pressing it and moving his foot to put pressure on another brick.
The heavy sound of stone scraping against stone was heard as part of the wall before him moved, revealing a sloping passageway. Stale air billowed out, carrying with it a slight acidic smell. Shabaka peered down the corridor. Lamps low along the passageway burned with renewed vigor as fresh air flooded the chamber.
He turned to two of the guards and gestured for them to investigate. Both were hesitant, causing him to demand, “What’s wrong?”
“We have no desire to die,” one answered.
“What do you mean?” Shabaka demanded in disbelief. “It is part of the temple. It cannot be cursed.”
“Those who do not know the password on return will be killed,” the other remarked.
Shabaka turned to the man who had opened the doorway.
“Is it true?” he demanded,
The man shook his head in reply, causing Shabaka to frown, before asking, “Why do you not speak?”
The man gestured with his hands to his throat, making a funny sound, causing Shabaka to nod his head in understanding, “You have no tongue.” He then turned towards the men, ordering them to enter the passage or risk defying an order, and they obeyed, both cagily entering the passageway, whispering to each other to look out for traps.
A short while later they called back, “We have found her!”
Shabaka felt relief wash over him, before calling down to them. “Good, bring her up.”
The two guards appeared a few moments later with Neti suspended between them, moaning in pain.
“Neti?” Shabaka gasped, alarmed by the limpness of her body, and the blue marks around her mouth.
“Need air,” she panted as they lay her down on the ground.
“Just breathe,” Shabaka replied, becoming calmer when he noticed the blue color slowly dissipate.
Just then the guard appeared with Shabaka’s chariot, and Shabaka turned to look at it, before addressing those remaining, “Gather the fallen ones. I will send out others to follow the trail,” before indicating to the guards to help Neti on the chariot.
Neti-Kerty shook her head when she realized what they were doing, stating, “No I’m not well enough to go on that.”
“We will go slow,” Shabaka reassured her, as they placed her on it, adding, “Just sit.”
“The temple have offered an oxen and dray to convey the others,” the guard reported.
“Then gather up the fallen and let’s return them home. The killer has been stopped. They have done well,” Shabaka said, before stepping onto the chariot. Taking up the reins in his good hand, he asked the horses to move on, and slowly they made their way back to the city.
The guards at the North Gate stood at attention as the dray approached, opening the gates
when they recognized the chariot, and lowering their heads as those having fallen passed them, the others waking respectfully behind the dray.
“The gates are open,” Shabaka said, as they moved past the guards, “The murderer has been found.”
The guard nodded his head, “I’ll send my recruit right away.”
Children playing in the street stopped and stepped out of the way, many of the citizens stopping to look as the procession past them, all lowering their heads in respect.
The dray altered course, turning towards the main Per-Nefer Chambers with half of the guard following, while Shabaka, Neti, and the remaining guards continued onto the guardhouse.
Suten Anu, Asim and Tei-Ka were outside the guardhouse waiting, the message of the returning guard having swiftly moved through the streets.
Shabaka halted the horses and slowly stepped from the chariot, pointing to it as Suten Anu hastily approached him.
Neti moved a little, dangling her legs off the end of the chariot as she tried to gather together the strength to stand up.
“Neti,” Tei-Ka gasped when she saw her condition and the bedraggled state of her clothing, “are you hurt?” the woman asked, wrapping her arm around the girl’s shoulder, to which Neti groaned, “I’m sore.”
Tei-Ka looked towards Asim, instructing, “Go find a healer, now!”
Neti made to protest, but Tei-Ka would have none of it, telling her to stay put until the healer arrived.
“Neti,” Suten Anu softly spoke, causing her to look up at him, “you might want to have a look at this,” he pulled out a scroll.
Neti carefully took it and unrolled it, starting to read. Tears formed in her eyes as she read the document.
“Neti?” Shabaka asked in concern, “What is it?”
“My papers, they had confiscated my license,” she replied the tears running down her cheeks, “they would have done anything.”
Suten Anu cleared his throat, causing her to look at him. “We also found something else,” he started, watching as she cocked her head slightly. “Your parents’ hearts.”
Neti’s eyes opened wide at that, her jaw slacking as she made to ask, but was too scared to.
“They were placed in canopic jars with natron. Asim said they are well preserved and that they can be returned as soon as the bodies are removed from the natron.”
Neti smiled through her tears.
Suten Anu then turned to Shabaka. “There were gems found in some of the grain sacks, which have been gathered up and placed in a basket for safekeeping.”
“Good,” Shabaka replied, leaning slightly against the wall.
“We are making an inventory of everything that has been collected …” Suten Anu started, then suddenly halted, as Shabaka stumbled slightly, instead continuing gently, “Come, the two of you need to see the healers.”
EPILOGUE
Neti-Kerty carefully walked along the road, wincing slightly as her brimming satchel bumped against her still bruised hip. She held the urn of anointing oil close to her breast as she passed a group of children, who were merrily playing in the street with a goat bladder ball. She stopped for a moment to watch them, before continuing along the road toward Asim’s chamber.
It had been several days since their return from Karnak, and it amazed her how quickly the atmosphere within the city had altered. She was not certain if it was the citizens’ relief that the killer had been stopped, or the fact that the mayor was finally being held accountable for his actions.
It had also been several days since she had last seen Shabaka. However, she knew that with the completion of his obligations he would soon be leaving, and thought it best to avoid him. The thought of his leaving caused a heavy sensation to settle over her heart, and she tried not to think about it. She had enjoyed working with him. It had tested her skills, her ability to understand the bodies she looked at …
She chided herself. It was an important day, and she should not ponder on such trivial thoughts. She drew in a deep breath, and pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind once she arrived at Asim’s Per-Nefer chamber.
Asim greeted her at the doorway, taking the satchel from her, before leading her into the chamber.
“That will be your platform,” he said indicating the one on the far side.
Neti walked over to it, carefully placing the urn of oil on it, before taking her satchel from him. She unpacked the bandages and amulets she had brought and put them to one side, placing the folded clothing next to that, followed by her father’s embalming tools.
Asim stood watching her as she prepared, smiling faintly as she laid out her things in the same meticulous order her father used to.
Just then, the bearers arrived with the first, neatly wrapped, cadaver, and placed it on the platform she was to use, before retreating to collect up the second. Asim handed her the measure of spiced palm wine and indicated the large earthenware pot, and she nodded her head in response.
The bearers brought in the second body, placing it on Asim’s platform, before leaving the chamber.
Asim handed her a canopic jar, which she took and carried with the utmost care toward her platform, placing it next to the carefully folded clothing.
Neti turned to look at Asim in question and he nodded his head, before she started unwrapping the cadaver, brushing the natron from it and revealing the darkened flesh beneath it. Neti fell into the familiar routine: open a section; scoop up the used natron; drop it in the large earthenware pot, before repeating the whole process to reveal the body beneath it.
She looked down at her mother, before turning to look towards Asim, who was working on her father, sincerely stating, “You have done a wonderful job, Asim, ” while indicating her mother’s chest, and his reconstruction work.
“Reconstruction was always your father’s strongest skill,” Asim replied as he continued to clear off the natron.
Neti took up her the flint knife and severed the stitching on the left flank, carefully placing it back in its place before pulling out the stitches. With great caution and meticulous care she started to remove the temporary stuffing and dropped it into the earthenware pot.
Once completed, she brushed the last of the natron from the body, cleaning off every trace, finally closing the earthenware pot once she was done. She drew a smaller earthenware bowl closer, decanting some of the palm wine into it, then set about washing the body. Her precise, yet practiced strokes removed the remaining natron, and she took extra care to clear all of it from the body. She finally collected up the canopic jar, opening the lid and pouring off the excess natron. She extracted the heart from within and carried it over to the bowl of palm wine, tenderly washing the natron from it, before returning it to the body.
Neti emptied out the bowl of palm wine, collecting up another bowl, before making her way to the sawdust and filling the bowl. She then returned to her mother’s body to do the final packing. She carefully filled the area surrounding her heart, packing the body tightly, and finally reached for the needle and thread to re-stitch the cut, before sealing it with resin.
After packing away everything she no longer needed, she reached for the urn of anointing oil she had specially made for her mother, having scented it by adding oil from her favorite flowers. She poured some into her hand, rubbing her palms together, before starting on her mother’s body. Her touch was gentle, as she meticulously worked the oil over the body. The measured strokes and repetitive action calmed her. Once she had finished, she reached for her mother’s favorite dress, and carefully redressed the body.
She had just finished when Asim called her, “Neti,” causing her to turn and look at him. “There is a parcel for you at the shelves,” he said, pointing to a small parcel wrapped in fabric.
Neti walked over to the shelf, picking up the small package and opening it. Her breath caught, and she swallowed at the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat. Her eyes started burning as she tried to contain the tears threatening to spill.
�
�Tei-Ka said it would only be proper for your mother to be buried with it,” Asim said as he continued his own work. Neti again swallowed and nodded her head in response, unable to find her voice. She lifted the amulet from its wrapping, and returned to her mother, placing the amulet around her neck.
Asim left the chamber for a few minutes, before returning with the bearers, carrying a pot with warmed bees’ wax.
“Bees’ wax?” Neti asked in disbelief, knowing only the wealthy landowners and pharaohs had their bandages coated with bees’ wax.
“Only the best for your parents. They were friends in the truest sense of the word,” Asim avowed as the bearers carefully situated the pot.
Neti took the first of the bandages and started wrapping the body, placing the amulets within the carefully sewn pockets. She had made them exactly the way her mother used to.
Once the body was wrapped, Neti reached for the first of the final layer’s bandages, dipping it in the wax, allowing the waxy liquid to permeate the fabric before lifting it out and proceeding with the final layer, repeating the action with every subsequent bandage.
She finally moved her hands over the bandaged body to smooth out any wrinkles that had formed.
A tingling sensation started along her spine as she finished, with a tremendous sense of pride filling her. She frowned at that, for pride was not the proper emotion to feel at that moment.
She looked up, seeking out Asim, when she saw the translucent, ghostlike images of her parents, both standing a short distance from her.
Her father had his arm wrapped around her mother, and both of them were smiling at her. There was a young dark-haired boy with them, who waved at her.
She swallowed repeatedly when she recognized that the clothing they had on were those they had just been dressed in. Her mother’s amulet hung around her neck and there were no visible marks on her father’s chest, unlike those found on his body.
A great sense of calm overcame her. The knowledge that their hearts had been returned to them, as she had avowed, eased her burden. She was filled with a warm sensation, one she could only justify as her mother’s love, before they disappeared from view.
The Mummifier´s Daughter - A Novel in Ancient Egypt Page 17