THE HATHOR HOLOCAUST

by Roy Lester Pond

  Karoy spoke to the head weaver.

  "Mistress Weaver, we need strong fibre to make a rope."

  "And we know why." The workers did not stop work under their supervisor's watchful eye, but they did sneak sympathetic glances at Karoy.

  "It is a shocking event. My ladies have not stopped talking about it. Fate has woven a web for you, brave spearman."

  "Then you will help?" he said.

  "Of course." She pointed to some coils of coarse fibre that lay on the floor. "Take what you need."

  "Thank you. Your thread will allow us to weave a lifeline for the Lady Tiy."

  "Let us begin," said Hefti, resting his spear and shield against a wooden wall. He picked up a coil. "We will plait several lengths together for greater strength." The spearman grabbed an end to unwind it and pulled the thread taut. Disaster struck. Three thousand-year old thread turned to ash in his hands and so did Karoy's heart. Hefti opened his hands to reveal grey powder. He dusted his hands on his kilt.

  "This is a knotty problem. Without a rope there is no way down," said Planki. "Where will we find fibre?"

  The spearmen fell silent. They racked their brains for a solution, even Hefti.

  "Is that wood burning?" Hefti said.

  "You guessed it. That's the smell of your wooden brain burning as you try to think," said Weji.

  What now? The spearmen looked up at the roof of the case as if hoping for inspiration from above, but Karoy gazed down between his feet.

  "The answer is right here under our noses," he said. They looked down too. Under their feet lay a cloth that lined the floor of the display case. "I see nothing," said Hefti. "Now you are being a cloth head," said Weji. "Don't you see we are standing on a bolt of strong, modern cloth?"

  The cloth, though new, was the colour of papyrus.

  "Get to work. Cut threads of rope from the cloth," Karoy said.

  "How?" said the lumbering one.

  "Use your head," said Weji.

  Weji frowned. "My head? I think I might use your sharp tongue instead, little man."

  Weji soothed him with a smile.

  "No, I mean we must use our sharpened spears to cut lengths of thread and twist them into a rope."

  And this is what the little Egyptian spearmen did, while the Mistress of Weavers and her workers smiled to see men bent in such back-breaking labour as theirs.

  First they lowered their spears and shields to the floor, tied to the end of their makeshift rope. Following this they came down themselves, one at a time, slowing their fall with the rope snaked around their bodies.

  Hefti and Weji reached the museum floor first. They picked up their weapons, standing back-to-back on guard, their shields raised and spears at the ready.

  As the rope chafed his belly, Karoy felt his ancient tan paint peeling off like sunburnt skin.

  Safely on the ground, Karoy looked around. They were standing near a wooden leg of the display case.

  The green exit sign flickered like warning flashes. In the far distance, a neon strip above a wall case shed a mist of fuzzy light.

  The spearmen were used to viewing their world by dim light, but tonight they were helped by another source. A full moon came out from behind clouds. It trickled light through the leaves of an oak tree outside the museum window, making pale patches on the floor.

  It was this light that revealed their attacker. The patchwork light and shadows turned a flying shape into the form of a leopard.

  "A great leopard attacks!" said Karoy. "Stand firm, shields linked - spears at the ready."

  They gathered in a defensive battle formation. The attacker bounded silently over the floor and now they saw that it was not in fact a leopard but a flying mummified cat!

  "This is no living cat. Retreat behind the leg of the case!"

  They did, swiftly. The cat ran nose-first into the leg. It spat and fled in pain, letting out a terrible screeeoww that sounded like ripping fabric. It gave Karoy an idea.

  "Back into battle formation. Block her next charge with your shields. But angle your shields to deliver a glancing blow and turn her off course. Then, as she goes by, slice at her belly with your spears."

  "You know the punishment for killing a cat," said Hefti.

  "Death."

  Cats were sacred in ancient Egypt.

  "You cannot kill a dead cat," Planki pointed out the plain fact. "It is already dead."

  "But it can still rip us to sawdust," said Weji, "which is the punishment I fear if we do nothing."

  "I don't plan to kill it," said Karoy. "I plan to cut some more cloth tonight to make a trap. On your guard - she crouches in readiness for attack."

  The cat bent low. Her bandaged ears went flat against her head, a sure sign that she would charge. She spat with rage, a dry, hissing sound like a blast of sand within the bandages of her head.

  "Shields up, on a glancing angle, remember. Here she comes."

  In the moonlight, the cat loped soundlessly across the tiles on her bandaged feet. She built up speed. How could she see at all with eyes covered by cloth and only painted eyes on the outside? Karoy wondered. Clearly she was under the control of Heka's magic. The mummy cat grew in size. So did the spearmen's eyes in terror.

  She pounced.

  "Hold your ground!"

  Her bandaged paws hit their shields like twin battering rams. The spearmen tumbled, but as the cat flew over them and to one side, they lunged with spears. The dry mummy wrappings crackled as leaf-shaped bronze blades bit, then sliced. A ribbon of cloth, used to stuff the cat by the ancient embalmers, spewed out of a gash in her side like an animal's insides coming out. It trailed behind her. She turned.

  "Now as she comes back to finish us off, take cover behind the leg of the case and drop your weapons. When she veers to avoid the leg, jump out and grab hold of the ends of the cloth. Next whip the cloth around the leg of the case and tie her fast."

  It sounded like a reasonable enough plan and it worked - up to a point. They jumped out. The cat came in a blur, but Karoy, Weji and Planki snatched a trailing piece of mummy cloth.

  Yet they had not counted on her speed.

  The cat ripped Karoy clear off his feet and he saw the two other spearmen go with him.

  They went parasailing through the air on a ribbon of mummy wrapping.

  Hefti, with his lumbering size, had missed. Yet now, in a remarkable act of bravery, he fetched his spear and shield and ran into the open.

  "Here, hell-cat of Bastet - come and get me if you dare," he called after her.

  The cat made a turn. The spearmen clinging to the length of bandage felt the speed of a cracking whip. Yet they hung on, spinning. The cat snapped them back again at high speed. Karoy's stomach and legs bounced along the floor. The ribbon of cloth twisted and threw him on his back. The world turned. He could see the cat's tail and underbelly. But he could not see Hefti. He twisted his body and rolled back onto his stomach in time to see Hefti leap out of the way. As the cloth-wrapped cat flashed by, Hefti hurled his spear with all his strength. There was a flash of a blade and then the spear pierced the trailing ribbon of mummy cloth.

  It stuck quivering in the wooden leg of the display case. This brought the cat to a violent halt and broke Karoy's grip. He sailed on, sliding over the floor, only to be overtaken by the other spearmen, who clambered to their feet and ran back.

  There was no need to hurry. The great cat of shadows lay pinned by the bandage, yowling. They quickly collected their spears and shields, leaving only the spear stuck in the leg of the display case, pinning the cat.

  Where to now?

  "The girl took Tiy in that direction," said Karoy, pointing. "But we must go in the other."

  "Why in the name of Set?" said Hefti.

  "Because the girl is with others and it will be impossible to rescue Tiy while she is in company. We must wait until the girl is alone and asleep."

  "Asleep?" said Planki. "Let me speak plainly. The girl will only be asleep when she has left this
place and gone to her home. Surely you are not suggesting that we go out to the four pillars of the sky?"

  "Exactly. We know which direction to follow."

  They did not disagree on this point. It was true.

  Their display case was so positioned in the gallery that it faced a window that looked out over parklands and across a stream to a far off skyline of houses and city buildings. They had often watched the museum keeper cross the floodlit bridge and stroll across the parkland until he passed behind a stand of trees and disappeared from their view. They had even seen Mish go with him on occasions. The curator lived somewhere in the city, at the far side of the park.

  Somewhere - but where?

  For the ancient acacia spearmen, this journey would be no mere walk in the park, even though it would be made under cover of darkness. A world of unknown dangers lay out there. Yet the spearmen saw from the set look in their leader's face that he meant to go through with his scheme.

  "The hardest part will be crossing the stream," Karoy said thoughtfully. "There is a bridge, I know, but it is brightly lit and used at all hours. Far too risky. We must find another way across the stream."

  "We are made of wood," said Hefti. "Why not float across?"

  "Your head is wood," said Weji. "Do you want to end up inside the belly of a great fish, or worse, soak water into your dry wood and sink to the bottom? That's if you don't dissolve into a puddle of sawdust beforehand."

  "I will think of something," said Karoy. "But we must hurry. We need to be ready and waiting at the entrance when the visitors leave so that we can slip out behind them. It is the only way. On the double, men."

  Karoy broke into a jog and the three spearmen followed, going in single file. Their wooden feet clattered softly across the tiled floor like the sound of puppets dancing on a stage.

  It was good to be on the move, thought Karoy, feeling the comforting weight of his spear and his ox-hide shield in his hands.

  The moonlight streaming through the window turned the museum floor into the mottled desert landscape of Egypt. And he saw now that the floor was littered with objects from Egypt. A child's spinning top lay on its side, balls made of leather, packed hard with straw, and here and there scattered on the floor were loose turquoise beads from a necklace. Treacherous traps for a careless foot. One false step and they could go tumbling and end up in splinters.

  This is Heka's doing, he thought, dodging them.

  'I shall release things from these cases to hinder you,' she had said. She had already set the mummy cat against them.

  A shape broke from the shadows. It lunged forward on squeaking wheels.

  It was a wooden crocodile toy with moveable jaws, he saw, surprised.

  "Danger!"

  The jaws snapped -clack! Karoy jumped aside.

  A child's plaything, yet it had the power to snap a wooden limb. The crocodile made another attack, this time on Weji at the rear, jaws gaping. He fended it off with his shield.

  "Back into darkness, creature of Sobek," said Weji, using the name of to the crocodile god of Egypt. But the creature came trundling back to attack, jaws apart.

  'What invisible hand pulled on the string to snap the jaws shut?' Karoy wondered. Heka's magic at work, no doubt.

  The wooden reptile would keep coming at them unless he disarmed it.

  He stepped aside to let the others pass and then turned to face the beast.

  Squeak, squeak, squeak.

  It came wobbling on ancient wheels, the jaws open like the gates of the underworld. Karoy crouched, ready with his spear. Not too soon. The string that ran through the roof of its jaw lay slack. Wait until the string draws taut to snap the jaws shut, then slash at it with the blade of the spear to cut it, but take care that the jaws do not clamp on your spear and wrest it from you. Clack. He jumped aside, felt the wind of the bite near his hip. The jaws had snapped shut before he could strike with the spear. He must be quicker. And now the jaws were opening again as the wooden crocodile trundled in for another attack. Hefti, Weji and Planki came to help.

  Now.

  The string running through the roof of the jaw drew tight. He flicked the spear into the open jaws and sliced at the string with the edge of the leaf-shaped blade. It was tough, modern string that resisted the blade. The jaws started to close. Karoy sawed furiously. Something snapped, but not the jaws. The string.

  The jaw fell slackly open and hit the floor.

  It worked. The crocodile went limp as if Karoy had severed a puppet's string and now it sat with its jaw hanging on the floor in a glum attitude.

  "He looks quite down in the mouth," said Weji.

  The four spearmen ran on.

  The moon passed behind a cloud. They entered a patch of darkness.

  The spearmen did not see the trap spread out on the floor. Karoy ran into the net first. The other three tumbled into him and they landed in a tangle of arms legs, spears and shields.

  "Raise the net men," a voice called from the darkness. "A great haul of fish has filled our net!"

  Karoy felt the net draw tight around his body, lifting him.

  Just then the moon re-appeared to reveal a net strung out between two green, papyrus fishing boats and his spearmen, flapping around helplessly like fish.

  "Ho. A fine haul indeed. Giant Nile perch with shields instead of scales and spears instead of spines!"

  "Boating buffoons!" said Weji. "Do we look like fish? Let your net down so we can climb out. We are on a mission of rescue and you are holding us up."

  "We are sorry. We set our net for fish, not men and we do not know how we came to be here on the floor. We know who you are and we know about your mission. Everyone is talking about it. Please accept our deepest apologies."

  They sounded genuinely sorry, Karoy thought. Maybe he could turn this into an advantage. Could the boatmen be persuaded to join him and become allies?

  "Instead of hindering us tonight - will you help us?" he said. "We have need of a boat tonight. We must cross a stream beyond."

  "The stream beyond?" said a fisherman. "You mean the little Nile that we see each day from our window? Do you know how much we have longed to ply our boats on its surface? We are your boatmen, Karoy. Count on us!"

  "Just one boat will do. But we need to carry it with us."

  "That should be possible," a fisherman responded. "Touch wood. Our wooden boat has dried over the centuries like a husk. We'll shoulder it, along with our oars."

  "Then join us good boatmen and help us rescue the Lady Tiy."

  "We will come with you on your mission and ferry you across the stream. Fishermen are brave men who face crocodiles in their daily work."

  "As do we," said Weji, referring to the toy crocodile that had attacked them.

  Only a few dozen yards stood between the running figures and the doorway that led to the museum's main entrance hall and to the exit on the street. But now Heka's magic placed another hindrance in their way.

  More than one, in fact.

  Four canopic jars. They stood blocking the doorway like bowling skittles at the end of a bowling alley.

  Canopic jars were stone, barrel-shaped jars with stoppers in the shape of heads. They held the internal organs taken out of the mummy. One jar was human-headed and held the liver. The next had a falcon's head and contained the intestines. A jar with a baboon's head acted as guardian of the lungs and finally a jar with a jackal's head guarded the stomach.

  The spearmen, followed by the boatmen carrying the papyrus boat, skidded to a halt.

  While the canopic guardians had no arms or means to fight, they nevertheless formed a barrier that could not be crossed. The innards of the mummy were untouchable and only priests could handle the jars without bringing disaster on themselves.

  To the Egyptian spearmen, these jars were as risky to touch as barrels of dangerous chemicals or nuclear waste.

  The jars smiled.

  Karoy groaned. He would rather face a line of Hittite chariots. What now? Spears wer
e useless against these challengers. He looked around the museum floor. More children's toys and a ball of porphyry stone caught his eye.

  A ball could roll. What if...

  He remembered a game that children in Egypt played where they rolled a stone ball to knock down a collection of nine vase-shaped stones.

  "Put down your weapons men," Karoy said. "It's time to play a game."

  "Now?" said Hefti, surprised. "Do you suppose a game will relax us?"

  "I doubt it. No, I am more interested in encouraging those canopic jars to take a lie down. How is your aim with a ball?"

  Hefti understood then.

  "Ninepin skittles, except there are only four. Does that make the game easier, or harder, I wonder?"

  "Come on men," Karoy said, "I will need your strength to set this ball rolling."

  They joined him and put their shoulders to the ball.

  The jars, guessing what the soldiers planned to do, erupted in cries of protest.

  The human-headed one yelled:

  "Stop, little men!"

  The baboon gibbered:

  "Begone, begone!"

  The dog howled as if already hit:

  "Ow-woooooo!"

  And the falcon keened:

  "Eeeeeek!"

  The spearmen shoved, their wooden muscles creaked. The stone ball began to rock. Another shove and the ball made a half turn and then a complete revolution. It was rolling. Karoy, in the middle, guided its path, taking aim.

  "Right, go right. That's it. Roll it faster now. A touch left. Yes."

  The ball was spinning under Karoy's nose. The anxious faces of the guardians were just visible over the sphere. He took aim at the human-headed one at the front. If he could strike it just left of centre it would knock on to the other three, sending them all toppling. The speed was right. The aim was good.

  "Let go!"

  The ball sped from them..

  Something was wrong.

  It was veering to the left, not much yet, but in another dozen yards it would travel hopelessly off course. Was the floor uneven or the ball untrue? Karoy put on a spurt to catch up with the rolling ball.

  Far from losing speed, the ball seemed to accelerate. Was it Heka's influence, or the combined wills of the canopic jars that turned its course away from them?