Ankhtifi's Papyrus

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Ankhtifi's Papyrus Page 9

by Graham Warren


  “Did you call me?” a young girl asked as her fingers moved frantically on the screen of her phone.

  Emmy immediately shoved the passport photocopies into a pocket as Alex rather stuttered, “N … no … we were … um … just talking about a girl called Leonie … um … that we met today.”

  “What a coincidence, I’m called Leonie. This is my friend Celina.”

  “Hi; OMG, I’ve got twenty messages from Ralph,” Celina said without lifting her eyes, thumbs continuing to flick through messages on her phone.

  “Bye,” they said as one, before walking off giggling.

  “That,” Three said as he wiped their table, “is why so few ‘see’ these days. They barely see the world around them; what chance do they have of opening their minds to that of another world?”

  “Do you think their parents brought them here to ‘see’?” Kate asked.

  “I think that Celina’s parents brought them both here for that exact purpose, though it will never happen. If Ramses was sitting in front of them in full ceremonial costume and dripping in gold, they would only notice if his designer handbag was genuine or not.”

  The thought of Ramses with a designer handbag had the effect of lightening the mood, which was exactly what Three had wanted.

  Four noisily chatting guests arrived for their pre-dinner drinks, causing Three to have to adopt his broken English voice in order to welcome them, as he headed off behind the bar to take their orders.

  The young explorers huddled and spoke softly. It was agreed that whatever the name of the person they had met, she had meant them no harm, wanting nothing more than to ensure that they took Ankhtifi’s missing papyrus seriously. To achieve her aim, she had had to show them just how important Ankhtifi was to the people of his period of ancient Egypt, and show them in the most graphic way possible. She had needed to convince them that he was not the vicious warlord history portrayed him as.

  “Why do you think she is so interested in what we think of Ankhtifi?” Kate almost spat out her tamar-hindi as, after asking the question, the answer came to her; it came to them all.

  They each shuddered at the realisation that she was a relation of Ankhtifi’s, a very close relation of his, a relation who had, more than likely, starved to death in the most appalling of circumstances.

  Having placed far too much trust in the girl he had met at Cairo International Airport, when he had had no logical reason to do so, Alex was determined to analyse everything far more intently. He started by wondering if they should have told Ramses or Rose, perhaps Bast or even Nakhtifi where they were going. He considered that Ramses, through his network of informants, would already be aware of where they were headed. With him knowing nothing of the time of Ankhtifi, he would be happy to be left in peace to enjoy his red wine, just as long as he didn’t have to share too much of it with the others. Alex missed his chats with them, he missed the friendship, the feeling of belonging to something so extraordinarily special which felt so naturally right. This was where he belonged, Egypt, or more precisely Luxor. Pulling out his phone, he confirmed that it was Tuesday and not yet ten in the morning. He watched as the signal came and went, never reaching above one bar.

  “If you stare at your phone much longer, I will think that you have become as addicted to it as those girls have.”

  Emmy brought him out of his thoughts. “Sorry,” he said, as he slipped his phone back into a pocket.

  “I was only joking.”

  “I know. I was actually wondering why I bothered with a phone at all, because whenever I really need to use it there is never any signal.” He shuffled in his seat. “Have you been to Ankhtifi’s tomb before?”

  “No, never.”

  “I think that you will find it interesting; definitely different. It’s only a short distance from here.” Alex pointed towards the hills coming up on their left, beyond the wide irrigation canal which reflected the wonderful sapphire blue of the sky. Having spoken to Mohammed about the lunatic speed of the last taxi driver, the receptionist had taken it upon himself to arrange a 42-seater bus just for the four of them; a bus which was being driven as aggressively, recklessly and just as fast … as a typical hearse.

  Early on in their journey, Kate had made several irritating comments to the driver about the possibility of snails overtaking them, in an attempt to get him to speed up just a little. His eyes so firmly fixed on the road that he failed to react in any way. She had given up in disgust and long since drifted off to sleep.

  With Cairo also asleep, virtually from the moment they had left the hotel, Emmy had considered that the journey to Ankhtifi’s tomb would have been the perfect time to speak to Alex, and it would have, if he had not been so deep within his own thoughts. Now, as they were about to arrive, it was too late.

  “It’s a wonderful tomb!” Emmy exclaimed, as she leaned in to examine the fine detail of a wall painting. “Have you seen these fish? They look as though they are really swimming in the Nile.” She pointed to their scales, colours, varying sizes and even mentioned a few by species or family, such was the accuracy of their portrayal.

  Kate was taken by the many small scenes painted so caringly on the columns, especially one of a man with a deer. Where the wall paintings of the fish used many pigments, including much blue and green, the pictures Kate was looking at had been restricted to earth colours: yellow ochre, umber and terracotta – raw, burnt and blended – all outlined in thin lines of black.

  Cairo was looking at the column one on from where Kate stood. The many scenes of food being prepared, as well as being cooked, made him think of lunch, then of famine, of the horrors he had seen.

  They had all been looking at the details, the very intricate details of the tomb paintings for some time, before Alex felt compelled to speak. “Why can’t the experts see that this is not the decoration of … not the tomb of a warlord. Where are the battle scenes, the death, the destruction, the I killed hundreds with my bare hands?” In the tombs and temples of the pharaohs this was a typical boast. “This decoration reflects someone who is rejoicing at the return of the inundation, of life, animals, even the fish in the Nile; someone who is in tune with nature. This tomb is a celebration.” Alex had now put his finger on what he had failed to see the last time he was here.

  The exit became a solid wall, flaming torches appeared on the walls. Ankhtifi spoke whilst standing in the hole in the floor that led to his burial chamber, arms folded on the front edge: “Finally, somebody can see my tomb for what it is … a celebration. I couldn’t have put it better myself.”

  Cairo and Emmy were in no way frightened, due to Alex and Kate having explained their previous meeting with Ankhtifi, and his great size, in great detail. After introductions Ankhtifi pointed out the story of his tomb – he spent a particularly long time explaining the line of donkeys painted along the back wall and the very large cows – after which they all sat around the massive wooden table, in the all-white room beyond the burial chamber, drinking tamar-hindi.

  Kate and Alex, having spent most of yesterday in their library – from where Alex had used the landline to phone his father, who had recommended several books, some of which they had, a couple they were able to buy from the Aboudi Bookshop, though several were simply not available in Luxor – they knew more than they did, though after all their reading they had learned more about Sekhmet than the First Intermediate Period.

  Cairo had gone off with his ancient relatives, Ropet and Sanuba, to see what he could find out from ancient soldiers, whilst Emmy had reported back to Rose on how successful she and Cairo had been at Dendera.

  They had reunited this morning at the Winter Palace, where, over breakfast, Kate and Alex had explained their plan. Cairo and Emmy saw no reason disagree. With the plan being virtually no plan at all, there was little to disagree with. Cairo had had such a good time with Ropet and Sanuba, that he had forgotten about asking them anything, whilst Emmy had stayed talking with Rose long after Dendera was a distant memory. Arriving
back in Luxor at around three in the morning, she had opted to stay at the Winter Palace.

  Kate was particularly eager to put the plan into effect, especially as it was mostly her idea. So, she was more than a little annoyed that Emmy suddenly asked a question just as they were about to leave Ankhtifi.

  “Thinking about it, I really don’t understand how power in the afterlife can shift, if everybody comes back as they were at their most successful.”

  Kate became noticeably less annoyed, as she had also wondered this, though would never admit that she did not know.

  Alex, who was in no way annoyed, knew all too well – they all did – how, by removing a pharaoh’s soldiers from the afterlife, armies could become smaller over time. Ramses had been doing exactly this to Merenptah’s army for centuries. It was slow work, as pharaohs often had many hundreds-of-thousands of soldiers to call upon, so even Alex was uncertain how sudden shifts of large numbers of ancients could actually take place, how the balance of power could be changed quickly and with the devastating effect that caused Ankhtifi so much concern. Obviously, with the loss of his papyrus, his spell, he could face problems, but surely ancients could not just up and leave. Alex was about to find out that many could!

  Seeing the uncertainty on the faces of the young adventurers, Ankhtifi lifted the almost empty pitcher of tamar-hindi, and, from the moisture running down the outside, created five wet overlapping rings: not dissimilar to those of the Olympic symbol. He dabbed a finger in a wet patch on the table before placing a dot in the centre of each circle. “Each dot represents a pharaoh,” he announced, as the youngsters took their seats then leaned forward over the wide table to get a better look. “Imagine that the circle surrounding each dot contains the total number of people who gain access to the afterlife through that pharaoh, then look at the overlapping sections of the circles.”

  As Ankhtifi said this the overlapping areas took on a life of their own. The liquid flowed along the grain of the wood, some disappeared down between the joins in the planks.

  Alex thought, as he watched the big man laugh as the table was wiped, then Thoth lay out a large blank papyrus before placing a small container of ink and a brand-new quill bedside it, that if something like this had happened to Ramses, he would have bellowed at the very least; red wine may have hit the wall, though this was unlikely, unless he was already extremely stressed. Kate would have stormed out, probably after hitting him, though she had been far less inclined to be physical recently, which Alex appreciated. Cairo would have decided it was either time to help his father with the washing up, to have something to eat or to go and see Ropet and Sanuba, whilst Emmy would have happily cleaned the mess and basically done the same as Thoth just had: put paper and a pen on the table quite calmly. Alex chuckled to himself as he wondered what he would have done, only to realise that what he was now doing, analysing everything, was exactly what he would be doing.

  “I think you had better draw the circles, Thoth,” Ankhtifi said as he remained in an almost jovial state: the worries of them not taking the loss of his papyrus seriously having left him.

  Thoth hopped up onto the table. He drew five overlapping circles before drawing a stick figure in the centre of each. One circle intersected another by almost fifty percent, whilst others crossed over each other by smaller margins.

  Emmy was amazed at how perfect the circles were; easily as accurate as if they had been drawn with the aid of a compass.

  Thoth went to step down, but Ankhtifi asked him to remain where he was: “I’m far too heavy handed to use a quill.”

  It was very simply explained. Each circle represented everyone that was in the afterlife thanks to the pharaoh at its centre. The overlapping segments represented those who had equal status under two, sometimes three or more pharaohs. It was these people, and only these people within the overlapping segments who could change who they worked for.

  Ankhtifi had Thoth draw a few more overlapping circles then colour in the area that he saw as representing the people who were at their most powerful during his reign. These could never leave him. He then had Thoth colour in the surrounding circles in contrasting colours. Of course it was a worst-case scenario, but they could all now see the importance of keeping the bulk of people onside; if the people turned against him, Ankhtifi’s power base was the smallest by far. There was no referendum needed before vast numbers of ancients were able to split away from one pharaoh to support another, no fight through parliament, all it needed was a simple change of mind: just as long as they resided within the area of the overlapping circles. The figures for leave or remain could, and did, change by thousands on a daily basis; as regular as the coming and going of the tide.

  “So, a foot soldier who had retained the same rank and status under three successive pharaohs, could, if he wanted to, move himself and his family between any of those pharaohs at will, to fight for the pharaoh he wanted to?”

  “Exactly, Alex, exactly,” Ankhtifi said excitedly. He did not feel the need to explain the finer details.

  “Couldn’t you just bribe them to stay?” Kate asked.

  “What! Shower them with gold? Sorry, it doesn’t work like that. They decide, then they move.” It was the prospect of a sudden mass exodus which concerned Ankhtifi, because the shorter the rule of any pharaoh, the less promotions given by any pharaoh – and Ankhtifi had not been great with promotions – the greater the number was of people who could move. Without his spell he felt that he was in a very precarious position.

  Alex wondered if Ankhtifi was really as vulnerable as he thought he was. Kate looked directly at him, she had obviously had the same thought. Alex shook his head and silently mouthed, “Not now.”

  “Then it’s time for the plan to be put into action,” she replied, far from silently, much to the amazement of Alex.

  He had expected her to do what she wanted to do, and him asking, telling her ‘not now’, should have been a red rag to a bull. She certainly was changing.

  “You are not going to tell me what the plan is, beyond needing six of my best guards?” Ankhtifi did not take his focus off Kate as he spoke.

  “No,” she said with confidence. “We know who took your papyrus, so, if the guards are ready we will be back shortly.”

  Alex admired her confidence, seeing as they had no idea who had taken the papyrus. All things considered he thought that she had played it right. Walls had ears, that was why they had refused to discuss anything about the plan once inside the tomb.

  Six soldiers appeared before standing to attention two abreast.

  “Take your orders from Kate,” Ankhtifi ordered. Six feet raised, then hit the ground as one: to confirm that they understood the order. Being ancients, no dust rose from the thickly covered floor.

  “Take me to the kitchen,” she ordered. “I meant, show me the way … now put me down … move that hand! NOW … put me down.”

  Controlling the laughter was difficult on their walk to the kitchen. Even Kate could see the funny side, however, the laughter stopped when they saw the size of the kitchens, and it was kitchens, not kitchen. Thinking quickly, Kate demanded, in no uncertain terms, that everybody, without exception, be brought into the largest kitchen. She ordered the soldiers to spread out and cover the room, which, with there only being six of them in a room the size of the Albert Hall, was a physical impossibility.

  Kate did not need to ask for silence as it was possible to hear a pin drop. Standing on a chair, hands on her hips, she glared at those gathered, making eye contact with as many as she could. This was, she had decided, the fifteen seconds of fear and uncertainty, that she needed to put into those looking at her, before she ordered the soldiers to apprehend the thief of Ankhtifi’s papyrus.

  Upon Kate’s order, the soldiers, as they had been told to, all took a noisy step forward.

  Alex’s arm shot out, knocking Kate from her chair. Her fall cushioned by Emmy and Cairo, much to their surprise. His hand, bleeding profusely, held the dagger he had ca
ught in mid-flight; no kitchen implement this.

  Chapter 10

  -

  Alone in the Past

  “Split up! You two take that tunnel,” Kate shouted back as she gesticulated wildly to her left. Without any falter in her step, she disappeared into the tunnel off to her right; her flaming torch leaving behind a trail of glowing red embers as she ran.

  Cairo and Emmy dutifully did as they were told.

  Alex, never the fastest, had suffered the extra handicap of having no option except to wrap his profusely bleeding hand before leaving the kitchen. Only now arriving at the junction of the tunnels where Kate had split from Cairo and Emmy, he had no idea which way to go.

  The sound of running feet came from both, so he presumed, correctly, that they had split up. He moved between the tunnel entrances several times. The sounds from the left-hand tunnel were definitely becoming louder, closer, whilst those on the right were diminishing. Having no idea who or what was coming towards him, he stepped into the right-hand tunnel and waited: he might need the element of surprise.

  It was Alex who was surprised, as the whole area suddenly became much brighter. He was still trying to put out his temporary bandage as Cairo and Emmy stood in front of him panting.

  “Dead end that way,” Cairo said through gasps for breath.

  Emmy took a few big breaths before asking Alex if he was okay.

  “Lots of blood, but it doesn’t feel too bad. I thought that by keeping my palm wrapped around the torch it would stop the flow. Cauterising it was not part of the plan!”

  Emmy nervously laughed; Alex quickly explained the meaning of the word cauterise to Cairo.

  Standing and listening, apart from the crackling of their torches, there was only silence. Wherever Kate had gone she was well out of earshot.

  “We need to go after her; she could be in trouble.” Emmy reflectively added: “I’m amazed that her plan worked.” She was concerned for Kate, though, with her adrenaline levels reducing, she was becoming slightly more concerned about becoming lost in tunnels, through which ancients could freely move.

 

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