Phredde and the Purple Pyramid

by Jackie French

  Okay, this palace mightn’t have been a great stone castle like the ones in Phaeryland, but inside it was BEAUTIFUL! In fact, it made our castle look like a great cold pile of rocks!

  We were in a garden. And I don’t mean like our boring old rose garden at home before my Demon Duck of Doom10 ate it, or the flower beds in the park, all straight lines of yellow flowers and smelling of fertiliser and doggy doo.

  These gardens were magic! And not Phredde’s kind of magic, either.

  The first thing I noticed were the pools — long shallow pools with brightly coloured tiles. But you could hardly see the tiles because there were so many flowers — great big blue ones, and white ones with their flat leaves floating around them. The pools stretched right up to this sort of pillared verandah, and the pillars were all painted like bundles of reeds with flowers on the tops.

  And there were long lines of trees and tiled paths, and through the columns I could see more pools and more flowers and more trees, and tiny fish swam among the flowers in the pools and birds and butterflies fluttered and …

  ‘Triple wow! With knobs on!’ I whispered.

  ‘Welcome to your palace, Oh Wondrous Pru,’ intoned Sennufer, ‘She Who Brings Sweet Drinks to the Wilderness, Who Walks through Rocks, Who …’

  ‘Yeah, yeah,’ I said. ‘Hey, is this all MINE?’

  Sennufer bowed again. (They were keen on bowing in Ancient Egypt.) ‘This is your private palace, Oh Wondrous One. The Royal Palace with Prince Methen, Prince Narmer and Princess Nut is next door.’

  ‘And Queen Fluffy too?’ I asked hopefully. But Sennufer just shook his head. ‘Our great queen died of …’ he coughed gently, ‘indigestion. Many moons ago. But her name wasn’t Fluffy.’

  ‘Indigestion?’ I demanded. ‘How can you die of that?’

  ‘The Royal Doctor said something she ate killed her, Oh Wondrous One,’ said Sennufer smoothly.

  It seemed they were awfully careless with their kings and queens around here. ‘Isn’t there ANYONE called Fluffy around here then?’ I insisted.

  Another head shake.

  I tried to think. ‘Maybe Fluffy is a nickname. Like my brother calls me …’ Suddenly it didn’t seem like such a good idea to tell them what my brother calls me. ‘Oh Wondrous One’ was heaps better. ‘Well, is Princess Nut sort of fluffy, then? Lots of curly hair, that sort of thing?’

  ‘I’m sorry, Oh Wondrous Pru,’ said Sennufer. ‘The Princess has straight black hair.’

  I remembered what Bruce had said. ‘How about a cat, then? Is there a Royal Cat called Fluffy?’

  ‘Oh Wondrous Pru,’ said Sennufer, ‘I have never heard of anyone — or any animal — called Fluffy.’

  Well, that was that. But who the heck11 had been leaving us messages?

  Bump, bump, bump, fan, fan, fan … The bearers carried us through the gardens, then through MORE gardens. Then a bowing servant opened a door for us and the litter bearers crouched down and we slid off the litter.

  ‘These are your apartments, Oh Wondrous Pru,’ said Sennufer. ‘Surely they are too humble for a Wondrous One such as yourself — and your Wondrous Official Phaery and Frog too,’ he added hurriedly, as Phredde scowled at him. ‘But they are the best we have. Perhaps you would like to refresh yourself and then meet the contenders for the Royal Throne.’

  ‘Suits me!’ I said. ‘See you later, Mr Sennufer.’

  Sennufer bowed low again, and the bearers bowed and the fanners bowed and the servant who opened the door bowed and they backed out of the doors and shut them …

  Finally, we were alone.

  Chapter 11

  Food! (at last)

  I looked around the room. Bluey-white walls and six great beds with masses of cushions — in case I wanted a choice, I suppose — and another wide door opening out onto a tiny private garden with more trees and grapes dangling down over a pergola and a giant swimming pool, without any flowers this time, so I supposed it was a sort of outdoor bathroom.

  And on a low table in the middle of the room was food!

  Okay, there was no pizza, but there was lots of food. Great piles of tiny roasted birds were piled up on a platter, which looked totally gross, like someone had cooked up a whole cage full of budgies. There was a giant bird with green gunk bursting out of its rear end, and flat round loaves that did look a bit like pizza but didn’t have any topping on them. And lettuce and cucumber salad and bowls of sauce and steamed grain stuff all spiced like paella, but it wasn’t rice or any spice I recognised, and baskets of figs and grapes and great jugs of something that smelt like …

  ‘Beer!’ I exclaimed. ‘They’re giving us beer!’

  Bruce hopped over and smelled the jug too. ‘It probably isn’t very alcoholic,’ he said. ‘I think they make it from barley. It’s probably like light beer.’

  ‘Well, I’m still not drinking it,’ I said firmly. ‘What’s this red stuff?’ I picked up another jug. If it was wine I was going to be really cross.

  ‘Maybe it’s pomegranate juice,’ said Bruce. ‘They drank pomegranate juice in Ancient Egypt.’

  I sniffed the red stuff, then poured a little into a gold goblet. ‘It tastes a bit like red cordial,’ I decided. I surveyed the tucker. ‘Right, let’s start eating!’

  There were no knives or forks so we had to eat with our fingers, while Bruce hopped out into the courtyard to see what Ancient Egyptian mosquitoes tasted like.

  You know something? It tasted great. Even the gunk stuffed up the bird’s bum was delicious, which gave me enough courage to eat one of the little birds and they were heaps better than chicken, though I had to keep spitting out bones. And I reckon lettuce and cucumber salad tastes better in Ancient Egypt too.

  ‘I like this place,’ I said, washing my greasy fingers in a bowl of perfumed water.

  ‘Mmm,’ said Phredde, her mouth full of fresh bread. ‘It’s better than school anyway.’

  ‘You don’t sound so crazy about it,’ I said.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Phredde doubtfully. ‘I’ve just got this nagging feeling.’

  ‘What sort of feeling?’

  ‘A danger feeling.’

  I looked at her with concern. Usually it’s me who gets worried about stuff and Phredde who just charges in. ‘But what can be dangerous here?’

  ‘Man-eating, I mean girl- and Phaery-eating crocodiles?’ suggested Phredde. ‘Ferocious wolves? Hyenas?’

  ‘Hyenas just eat you after you’re dead,’ I informed her. ‘They don’t kill things. They’re scavengers.’ I’d seen a show about hyenas on TV.

  ‘I don’t care when they eat me,’ decided Phredde fluttering her wings nervously. ‘I just don’t like animals thinking I’m a snack.’

  ‘But you can PING! us out of danger, can’t you?’ I asked.

  ‘Sure,’ said Phredde. ‘As long as I get enough warning! I mean if a crocodile goes snap and crunches you up, I can’t uncrunch you.’

  ‘Well, I’ll make sure I stay away from crunching crocodiles,’ I told her. ‘You stay away from crocodiles too. And we’d better tell Bruce he isn’t to go hunting mosquitoes down by the river, either, in case a crocodile gets him.’

  ‘Or a hippopotamus,’ said Phredde gloomily. ‘I saw a couple swimming by the reeds.’

  ‘Do hippopotamuses eat people?’ I asked.

  ‘Dunno,’ muttered Phredde. ‘And I don’t want to find out.’

  ‘Look, this is FUN!’ I said. ‘Cheer up! Now, let’s go and find the princes and princess, and see which one we want to make king or queen!’

  I bashed the gong a few times till a couple of servant women bowed into the room.

  ‘Fetch Mr Sennufer,’ I told them. ‘We’re going to find you a leader!’

  Chapter 12

  Two Princes and a Princess

  ‘Who should we see first?’ I asked.

  Sennufer uncurled from his bow. ‘Prince Methen is the oldest son of our late king, Oh Wondrous One,’ he said.

  ‘Then why isn’t he k
ing?’ I enquired. ‘I thought the oldest son always became king.’

  Sennufer shook his head. ‘Not here, Oh Wondrous One. The king chooses his successor from any of his relatives or children. But our Royal Lord was swallowed by the crocodile before he could make his choice.’

  I looked at Sennufer closely. Was there something he wasn’t telling us? But his face looked polite and expressionless.

  ‘Well, we’d better see Prince Methen, then,’ I said. ‘This is going to be cool! I’ve never met a prince before. Well, except for phaery princes. Lead on, Mr Sennufer!’

  It wasn’t far to the next palace. Through more gardens, around more ponds and under more colonnades. Phredde fluttered above me and Bruce hopped at my side and everywhere we went everyone bowed down low and it felt great.

  ‘Hey,’ I said. ‘Is there a throne room here? With a big gold throne and stuff like that?’

  ‘Yes, Oh Wondrous One,’ said Sennufer. ‘But we won’t find His Royal Highness there. He’ll be in the Royal Kitchens.’

  ‘The kitchens? Is he having a snack, or what?’

  ‘Prince Methen is official Lord of the Palace Kitchens. He is very fond of kitchens, Oh Wondrous One,’ said Sennufer expressionlessly.

  ‘Me too,’ I said. I liked the sound of this prince a lot. ‘Kitchens are where you find FOOD!’

  We went through another colonnade and suddenly even MORE people were bowing to us as we passed into yet another garden and …

  ‘The Royal Kitchens, Oh Wondrous One!’ announced Sennufer.

  ‘Huh?’ I said. I gazed around.

  ‘I thought the kitchens would be a big gloomy place under the palace, like the kitchens back in Phaeryland!’ whispered Phredde, perching on my shoulder.

  I nodded. At first glance this place looked more like a garden than a kitchen. There were fruit trees all along the mud-brick walls and rows of herbs and vegetables with muddy channels of water between them, and a long tiled pool just like the one in the garden they’d given me. But when you looked closely you could see high-domed things I guessed must be ovens. Ovens made of — you guessed it — hard mud.

  There were tables too, spread with dead birds and piles of feathers and chopped up vegetables, and under the trees a whole row of women sat grinding stuff in big stone bowls.

  ‘Look at that!’ whistled Bruce.

  I looked. Down the other end of the garden a big fat SOMETHING was roasting on a spit above a giant bed of coals, with two kids either side turning the spit and basting it with some sort of oily stuff.

  ‘What is it?’ I whispered. I’d never seen so much roasting meat on one animal before!

  ‘Ahem,’ said Sennufer. I turned back to him just as he bowed down again, but not to me this time. ‘Greetings, Oh Noble Prince,’ he intoned. ‘Eldest Son of Our Beloved King Ka, Lord of the Palace Kitchens, Guardian of the Palace Storerooms.’

  ‘Oh, wow!’ I whispered, trying not to stare.

  Prince Methen was handsome. I mean he was gorgeous! He had long black hair and this cute beard on his chin and big brown eyes. His chest was bare except for this enormous gold necklace and all he wore, apart from gold bangles on his wrist and ankles and gold sandals, was this white sarong thing. Even his knees were gorgeous!

  He grinned at me. ‘Ah,’ he exclaimed. ‘So this is the wondrous heroine who is going to choose the next king!’

  ‘Or queen,’ I said, gazing into his brown eyes. ‘Wow!’

  He frowned. ‘Wow?’

  ‘It’s just an expression,’ I said hastily. ‘You’re the first prince I’ve ever met.’

  He smiled again at that. He had the biggest, whitest teeth I’ve ever seen, except on Mrs Olsen, but she’s a vampire and that doesn’t count. ‘I hope I’m not a disappointment!’ he said warmly.

  ‘Oh, no!’ I said breathlessly.

  ‘No way,’ agreed Phredde. Her eyes were wide too.

  I suddenly remembered to do introductions. ‘This is my Official Phaery, Phredde,’ I informed Prince Methen, ‘and this is my Official Frog, Bruce.’

  ‘Hi,’ said Phredde. I noticed she’d just PING!ed her hair tidy.

  ‘I’ve never met an Official Phaery before,’ said Methen smoothly. He smiled up at her as she fluttered above him. ‘And you are certainly not a disappointment either.’

  ‘Hi,’ said Bruce flatly. For some reason he didn’t seem as impressed as Phredde and I. ‘What’s that?’ He nodded over at the big hunk of meat on the spit.

  ‘That!’ said Prince Methen enthusiastically. ‘That’s a stuffed roast hippopotamus.’

  ‘Hippopotamus!’ I gulped. ‘Can you really eat hippopotamus!’

  ‘Of course,’ said Prince Methen. ‘If it’s prepared by a really good cook. I am,’ he added, ‘a very good cook. You might say’ he grinned again, ‘a really surprising cook. The roast hippopotamus is stuffed with grains and herbs and basted with olive oil — that’s a really rare oil they produce in Palestine, north-east of here. It’s made from this fruit called …’

  ‘Olives,’ I interrupted. ‘Yeah, we know olives. They go on pizzas.’

  Prince Methen frowned. ‘Pizzas?’ he queried. ‘What is a pizza?’

  I grinned. ‘Show him a pizza, Official Phaery.’

  PING! A giant tomato and olive pizza with extra anchovies appeared on one of the tables.

  Prince Methen stared. Well, EVERYONE stared, actually. I thought one of the servants was going to fall into the pool! You’d think they’d never seen a pizza appear out of thin air before!

  ‘Have a slice,’ I offered.

  Prince Methen pulled a dagger out of the belt of his sarong (a gold dagger with jewels, naturally), sliced off a hunk of pizza and chewed it thoughtfully. A smile spread over his entire face.

  ‘Magnificent!’ he cried. ‘Never have I tasted such a fabulous creation!’ He smiled down at me, then up at Phredde. ‘And never have I met a more wondrous heroine or more graceful phaery!’

  ‘Huh!’ said Bruce. ‘Exactly how many heroines and phaeries have you met?’

  Prince Methen’s smile slipped a bit. ‘Never have the tales told of such beautiful heroines or phaeries,’ he amended. ‘Your loveliness makes the very flowers pale and brings joy to all in my palace.’

  ‘Your palace?’ demanded Bruce. ‘I thought it was Pru who was going to choose whose palace this was going to be?’

  Prince Methen beamed at me. ‘And rightly so! Who better to choose the next king than someone as wise as she is beautiful. But,’ his smile sort of glowed at me and Phredde, ‘as the eldest son, who better to take Father’s place?’

  ‘He’s got a point,’ said Phredde.

  I nodded.

  ‘Huh, he’s up himself,’ muttered Bruce. I ignored him.

  ‘You’re probably right,’ I said to Prince Methen. ‘But we’d better see the others first. Just to be fair, you know.’

  ‘No one could be as fair as you,’ said Prince Methen smoothly. ‘Oh, and when you do make me king,’ his smile was even warmer, ‘I shall be very, very grateful. I know how to reward my … friends …’ He smiled his gorgeous smile again. ‘Now, I must get back to my sauce. It’s to go with the roast hippopotamus. Just a simple blend of sesame seeds and cress, I think …’

  I frowned. It seemed, well, a bit odd for a prince to like cooking this much.

  ‘Do you do a lot of cooking?’ I asked politely.

  The smile shone again. ‘Of course! It’s most … useful,’ he concluded, with a glance around the servants. Suddenly they all bowed down, but not before I’d caught a look on Sennufer’s face that was … odd.

  What was going on, I wondered. Why would a prince — the eldest son — be so fond of cooking?

  But hey, it was a great hobby, though I supposed he wouldn’t have time to do much hippopotamus stuffing when he was king and had to lead the army against the Marsh Dwellers. But anyone who liked food as much as me and Phredde had to be good!

  ‘Um, just one other thing,’ I added.

  Pr
ince Methen turned his gaze on me again. ‘Yes, Oh Wondrous Pru, fair as the sky at dawn?’

  ‘You don’t know anyone called Fluffy, do you?’

  Prince Methen frowned. ‘Fluffy. Fluffy. That wasn’t the soldier who got trampled in the hippopotamus hunt was it?’ he asked Sennufer.

  ‘No, Gracious Highness,’ said Sennufer. ‘His name was Sethamnet.’

  ‘Sorry, Oh Joy of Springtime,’ said Prince Methen. ‘I can’t recall any Fluffies at all.’

  ‘Never mind then,’ I said. ‘Let’s go see Prince Narmer.’

  Chapter 13

  Prince Narmer

  ‘That stuck-up, slimy … You didn’t believe all that guff about being fair and lovely and everything, did you?’ demanded Bruce outside. He gave a little hop of annoyance.

  ‘Me? No. No. No, of course not,’ I said.

  ‘Me neither,’ said Phredde absently. ‘Hey, wasn’t he gorgeous!’

  ‘Him! He wore jewellery!’ protested Bruce.

  ‘Well, he is a prince,’ I said. ‘Princes are supposed to wear jewellery.’

  ‘Yuck,’ said Bruce. ‘I’m a phaery prince and I don’t wear gold bangles.’

  ‘Yeah, but you’re a frog,’ I pointed out. ‘Um … don’t you think I’m, um, sort of fair and lovely?’ I asked casually.

  Bruce was too indignant to hear. ‘Bangles!’ He snorted again. ‘On his ankles, too. And all that stuff about you looking like the sky at dawn? What does he mean? All red and covered in clouds?’

  ‘I think he just meant beautiful,’ I said coldly.

  ‘Huh!’ said Bruce. ‘You’re nothing like the sky at all! At any time of day! Or maybe he meant you were soggy, like when it’s raining. Or damp and grey, or your nose is pink and the rest of your skin is blue and yellow, or …’

  ‘Okay!’ I yelled. ‘We get the point!’

  ‘Anyway,’ said Bruce. ‘What sort of a prince likes cooking? I mean that’s WEIRD!’

  ‘No, it’s not,’ said Phredde defensively ‘I think it’s nice! It’s good for a bloke to do housework.’