The Amulet of Amon-Ra

by Leslie Carmichael

  Old Khufu did indeed make superior footwear, and Meryt-Re was able to trade two pieces from her hoard for four pairs of leather-soled sandals. She had Jennifer carry them.

  Since they had gone to a different market, it took longer to get home. By the time they returned to the house, Jennifer was ready for a nap.

  She sagged against the wall of the main room, as Meryt-Re placed her basket carefully on the floor. Ramose appeared from his workshop, followed by a very dirty Mentmose.

  “Well?” asked Ramose. “How did it go?”

  “Not as well as I could have wished, but well enough,” said Meryt-Re. She dug under the clothing and handed the nearly empty bag of carvings to him.

  “Oh, good,” said Ramose. “I was hoping to present some pieces to the Pharaoh. I thought they would all be gone.”

  “I’m a better bargainer than that,” said Meryt-Re.

  Jennifer laid the sandals on the floor and helped her unpack the baskets.

  “I know, I know. I was just teasing. And what did you…?” He let out a low whistle as Meryt-Re held up the clothing, the wigs and the jewelry. “Ptah! You bought all this, and still had some carvings left over?”

  “Yes, Ramose.”

  “I had no idea you were as good a bargainer as this,” he said. “Perhaps I should send you when next I want to obtain stones from the miners. Dear one, I am most impressed.”

  “I admit we got some of the items for a better trade than I expected,” said Meryt-Re. “But the other trades were good, too. I could not have done so well if it were not for the quality of your work. It is your loving touch upon the stones that impresses them, Ramose.”

  Ramose grinned and picked up the little bottle that Meryt-Re had set on the floor and wiggled the stopper out.

  “Careful,” said Meryt-Re.

  Ramose sniffed at it. “Lotus oil?”

  “Yes,” said Meryt-Re. “Although, I would have liked something more exotic, like spikenard or myrrh.”

  “I’m told myrrh is the Pharaoh’s favorite scent,” said Ramose. “Neferhotep said she had several myrrh trees brought from Punt. They have been planted in front of her mortuary temple.”

  “We are not so fortunate. Lotus will have to do for us,” said Meryt-Re.

  “Is this for me?” asked Mentmose, as he picked up one of the men’s outfits. His eyes grew round as he looked at it.

  “Yes, my son,” said Ramose. “Women will be talking of your beauty for years to come.”

  “Perhaps even the Pharaoh herself will notice you,” added Ramose, grinning at Mentmose’s blush, visible even on his dark skin.

  “Only if you wash.” Meryt-Re snatched the outfit out of Mentmose’s filthy fingers and examined it for smudges. “Did you know you have stone powder on your nose?”

  “I bet Tetisheri will like it,” said Jennifer, looking at him out of the corner of her eye.

  Mentmose glared at her, then smiled good-naturedly. “Dinner at the palace! My friends will be so envious. I wonder if we will be seated anywhere near Her Majesty?”

  “Probably not,” said Meryt-Re. “Now, we must dash to the river to wash.”

  The four of them paraded down the streets to the banks of the Nile, where several soldiers stood on guard, looking out across the water. After a brief discussion, Meryt-Re and Ramose chose the driest path they could find, trying to avoid the sticky black mud. The path passed near a thick patch of spiky plants.

  “It’s too dangerous,” said Meryt-Re. “There may be crocodiles.”

  “It’s either that or mud to the knees,” argued Ramose. “Besides, the soldiers would have warned us if they’d seen any.”

  Meryt-Re shook her head. “We still must be very careful,” she said, as she waded into the water and stripped off her dress, letting it float in the current. Ramose and Mentmose followed.

  Jennifer glanced nervously up and down the river. There were a few boys in the distance, playing with sticks and stones, but no one seemed to be watching her. She made her way out to where the others were splashing and ducking and started to pull off her dress. A movement in the rushes caught her gaze and she stood still.

  Two piggy black eyes stared back at her, framed in a fleshy pink and brown face, just rising above the surface of the water. Small ears twitched.

  “Hey, look,” she said. “A hippo!”

  “What?” said Mentmose, as he emerged from the water, wrapping his wet kilt around his hips.

  “A hippopotamus,” said Jennifer, pointing. “In there.”

  Mentmose looked, then froze. “Pehemau,” he whispered. Jennifer’s ears translated it as “water ox.”

  Ramose and Meryt-Re splashed nearer. Mentmose silently held up a hand, warding them off. He shooed them away from the rushes. The hippo rose out of the water, water streaming from its sides.

  As Meryt-Re and Ramose angled away from the plants, Mentmose grabbed Jennifer’s shoulder and backed slowly away from the huge animal.

  The hippo eyed them, then settled back into the river, water squirting up from beneath its powerful body.

  “Ra,” said Mentmose, as they made it to the riverbank. “That was close.”

  “It was just a hippo,” said Jennifer.

  “What do you mean?” Mentmose shook his head. “Little sisters are so stupid. If that water ox had been more interested in defending its territory, we’d all be dead. Now, come on.”

  Ramose and Meryt-Re joined them, their wet clothes clinging to their bodies.

  “Did you see a crocodile?” asked Ramose.

  “No,” said Mentmose. “A water ox.”

  Meryt-Re’s face paled. “Thank the gods you were not hurt. And that you warned us.” She looked at Jennifer. “Did you not even get clean?”

  “Uh, no,” said Jennifer. She glanced at Mentmose. He was frowning at her.

  “It is too late now. You will have to wash off at home.”

  They informed the guards of the presence of the hippopotamus and headed back to the house.

  Meryt-Re let Jennifer wipe herself down with a damp cloth while Ramose and Mentmose went to don their new finery. When they were all dressed, they assembled in the main room.

  “Well, now,” said Meryt-Re. “Don’t we look like we belong in noble society.”

  “We will shine, my dear,” said Ramose.

  Mentmose stroked the sheer linen of his tunic. The fine material of the men’s long, short-sleeved tunics was nearly transparent and showed off their well-muscled chests. Under the tunics, the spotless white pleated kilts reached nearly to their knees. A piece of the same fabric was wrapped neatly around their hips, like a wide belt. Jennifer had thought they would look funny in their new outfits, but they looked…right.

  The short-sleeved white dress that Jennifer now wore fit her perfectly, as did the translucent outer dress, which was belted tight to her waist with a piece of fabric. The outer dress was really just a rectangle of linen with a circle cut out for her head, but Meryt-Re had arranged it so that the fabric fell from her waist in even pleats at the front and back, leaving the fabric at the top to drape down Jennifer’s arms, almost like sleeves.

  All of them wore their beaded pectoral collars, which extended halfway to their shoulders. Ramose’s and Mentmose’s black wigs were smooth and shiny, held down with narrow bands of gold. The dozens of braids, tied off with tiny beaded wires, that made up Meryt-Re’s and Jennifer’s wigs swayed gracefully with every movement of their heads.

  Meryt-Re gestured for them all to turn, slowly.

  “Now, the finishing touch,” said Meryt-Re. “Mentmose, bring me my cosmetics table, please.”

  Mentmose ran up the stairs at a pace that made Meryt-Re wince, then returned carrying the spindly-legged table that Jennifer had seen sitting in the larger bedroom. Meryt-Re opened it and began expertly mixing powders from several jars with water on a stone palette. One at a time, they all sat in front of her, where she applied the dark kohl with quick strokes from a small stone spatula. She spent a litt
le more time on Jennifer, highlighting her eyes with green and her cheeks with pink, and painting her lips.

  Jennifer longed to scratch at the itchy make-up, but Meryt-Re scowled at her when she reached for her cheek. Meryt-Re handed her the bronze mirror, and gestured that she should look at herself. Why, she was beautiful! Meryt-Re had turned her into an elegant lady.

  “I would hardly know you were my own daughter,” said Ramose, chuckling.

  “Uh,” said Jennifer, swallowing. If they only knew how true that was!

  With quick strokes, Meryt-Re put on her own make-up. And just in time, too.

  There was a knock on the door, but before anyone could answer it, Tetisheri burst in, with a man and a woman following more sedately.

  “Are you ready?” asked Tetisheri. She gazed at Mentmose. “You look wonderful!”

  “Hello, Meryt-Re,” said the woman, in a cool tone. She, too, was dressed in sheer linen and gold jewelry, though she wore a lot more than Meryt-Re. Too much, Jennifer thought, eyeing the woman’s golden headband, earrings, bracelets, rings, and anklets.

  “Hello, Satyah,” said Meryt-Re. “Good evening, Hekhanakhte.”

  “Good evening.” Tetisheri’s father, also adorned with jewelry, gestured outside. “I have hired several conveyances for us.”

  “You didn’t have to do that,” said Ramose. “We could have walked.”

  “The second assistant official to the Curator of Monuments does not walk,” said Satyah, with a sniff.

  “Yes, you are quite right, Satyah,” said Meryt-Re. “We thank you for your forethought and generosity.”

  “I’ve never ridden in a sedan chair before,” said Tetisheri. Her cheeks turned pink as she turned to Mentmose. “Mentmose, would you like to share mine?”

  Mentmose opened his mouth, but a glance from his mother quelled anything he was about to say. He gave Tetisheri a short, jerky nod.

  “I thought the girls…” said Satyah.

  “Please, mother?” said Tetisheri.

  “I think that would be fine,” said Meryt-Re. “Dje-Nefer can ride with us.”

  Satyah pursed her lips, but said nothing further.

  The little cat that had slept with Jennifer the night before chose that moment to stalk regally into the room.

  “Here is little Miw to bid us goodbye,” said Tetisheri.

  “Still only one cat, Meryt-Re?” asked Satyah, with a toss of her head. “We have three now. They were bred from the sacred temple cats.”

  “All cats are sacred, Satyah,” said Meryt-Re. “Miw may not have had an exalted birth, but she is still beloved in the heart of Bastet. She does her job. We have not had any snakes in this house since we adopted her.”

  Miw rubbed up against Jennifer’s legs and allowed herself to be lightly stroked. Then she wandered away, intent on her own mysterious feline errands.

  “You should get another,” said Satyah. “They are proof against demons, too, you know.”

  “So I’ve heard,” said Meryt-Re. She opened the front door. “Shall we?”

  Three painted and gilded boxy sedan chairs were lined up in front of the house. Several of the neighbors were peeking out from their front doors and peering down at the street from their roofs. Mentmose waved cheerfully at them all.

  When they were all settled in their seats, the bearers started out at a steady walk, the lead man calling out the rhythm.

  “Should we shut the curtains?” asked Ramose, his hand on a length of fabric that hung beside the windows.

  Meryt-Re shook her head.

  “No, I think not. We shall see and be seen. It is well that the world knows Ramose the amulet-maker and his family are on their way to the palace tonight. This will be an evening to remember.”

  Jennifer squirmed, trying to find a comfortable spot to sit on the palace’s stone floor. She sneaked a peek at Meryt-Re, who was reclining on a pillow, fiddling with a tiny bird’s drumstick. There was a faint crease between her eyebrows.

  The feast had been going for hours, ever since they had arrived, and it didn’t look like it was going to wind down any time soon. The narrow hall was filled with people. Young girls walked up and down the rows, offering food and wine.

  All evening, groups and individuals had been brought forward to the front of the long room, for presentations to the Pharaoh or other business. Earlier, Meryt-Re had happily chatted with those around them, making sure to mention Mutemwija’s name whenever she was asked about her outfit. Now, she barely spoke; she just kept glancing up at the Pharaoh’s throne. It didn’t help that they were at the very far end of the hall, only a few places removed from the exit.

  Ka-Aper had sauntered by some time ago, barely giving them a glance, followed by Neferhotep, who had seemed startled to see them there. They hadn’t seen either of the men since.

  “Would you like some sea slugs?” asked Ramose, holding out a bowl of quivering, jelly-like slices toward her.

  “No, thank you,” said Meryt-Re, her attention further up the room.

  Ramose gave her a worried frown. He offered the slugs to Jennifer, who shook her head. “So…what do you think of your first feast?” he asked.

  Jennifer shrugged. “It’s all right.”

  Meryt-Re snorted but didn’t say anything. Some of the food had been good, especially the chicken in a tangy sauce. There had even been a bowl of little cakes that had a marshmallow flavor. She had gobbled down as much of them as she thought she could get away with.

  Jennifer hadn’t been sure whether Dje-Nefer would have known what some of the dishes were, but Ramose and Meryt-Re hadn’t been surprised at her questions. Meryt-Re had remarked on how some of the spices were rare and unusual, before their seatmates had laughed and told her their servants used them all the time.

  Ramose handed Jennifer a red bowl, which was nearly empty. “More candy? They are truly a delicacy. The Pharaoh is quite generous to allow them to be served tonight. Usually, they are reserved for royalty.”

  With a glance at Meryt-Re, Jennifer plucked out the last two and nibbled on the sweet treat. At least they weren’t slippery, like the heavily sauced meats, some of which Jennifer had nearly dropped on her new dress.

  Meryt-Re was still staring up the room.

  “Something wrong, dear heart?” asked Ramose.

  “You know there is, Ramose,” said Meryt-Re, sitting up. “Could we be any further away from the royal dais? Look at us! We are practically out in the hallway.”

  “Well, we couldn’t expect…”

  “Ramose.”

  “At least Mentmose is closer,” said Ramose, a little desperately.

  “Only because Tetisheri threatened to make a scene if he was not allowed to sit by her and her parents,” said Meryt-Re. She threw the uneaten drumstick back into the communal bowl which they were sharing with another couple.

  “Meryt-Re,” said Ramose, “your voice…”

  “Yes. I know. Keep it down. We would not want to seem ungrateful,” said Meryt-Re. “But Ramose! Even Seneb the fish merchant has a closer position than we do. How he got invited, I would like to know.”

  “It looks like he came with a friend,” said Ramose. He chuckled as he glanced at the fish vendor. “You’ll note, not too many people are willing to sit beside him.”

  “I am not surprised. Gossip in the market is that his nose has never worked properly,” said Meryt-Re. “Doubtless he does not realize that he could be mistaken for one of his catch.”

  “Meryt-Re, I’m sure there is a good reason for us being so far back. We were invited quite late, after all,” said Ramose.

  “I suppose. But we were invited. Specifically by Ka-Aper. He as good as promised that you would come to the Pharaoh’s attention tonight, didn’t he?” asked Meryt-Re.

  “You must be patient,” said Ramose. “Wait! Here comes Neferhotep.”

  They sat up straighter as Neferhotep neared them, the head of his leopard skin bouncing on his bare chest with every long stride. He kneeled in front of them.


  “Meryt-Re, Ramose, I didn’t know you were going to be here. Ka-Aper told me earlier that he invited you, but he has kept me in attendance ever since the feast began, or I would have come to talk with you,” he said, with a frown.

  “What’s the matter?” asked Ramose.

  “I…nothing. Ka-Aper has asked for you to come forward now. The children, too,” said Neferhotep. “Dje-Nefer, I think he wants you to show your amulet to the Pharaoh. He said there was something she needed to see.”

  “Should I bring my gifts for the Pharaoh, too?” asked Ramose, as he scooped up the bag that held the amulets he had brought for her.

  “By all means,” said Neferhotep.

  Ramose rose and helped Meryt-Re to stand. Jennifer scrambled to her feet.

  “Wait,” said Meryt-Re. She twitched one of Ramose’s pleats into more precise alignment and brushed a few crumbs from Jennifer’s front. “All right. Let’s go. We can pick up Mentmose on the way.”

  They filed up the long hall behind Neferhotep, Jennifer behind Ramose and Meryt-Re. As they passed Tetisheri’s family, Satyah looked at them in astonishment. Meryt-Re crooked a finger at Mentmose. He popped up from the floor and followed them. Tetisheri made an attempt to join him, but her mother pulled her firmly back.

  Jennifer tried to peer around Neferhotep, to see if she could spot the Pharaoh. After what felt like miles of walking, with every eye in the room on them, Neferhotep stopped suddenly and bowed. Jennifer and the others copied him. She peeked out from under the bangs of her wig to get a good look at the people on the dais.

  A plump middle-aged woman, seated on a straight-backed golden throne, beckoned them forward. Her beaded pectoral collar reached to her shoulders, and her black hair had tiny gold disks braided into it. It was topped by a delicate golden crown, with a cobra and vulture at the front. Her outfit was similar to Meryt-Re’s, although even from where she was standing, Jennifer could tell that the fabric was finer. It shone like silk in the light from the torches. Apparently, the Pharaoh didn’t wear men’s clothing all the time.

  Behind her throne stood a giant of a man, his skin almost as dark as the black stone that Ramose often worked with. He stood silently behind the Pharaoh, his eyes closed and his bulging arms folded over his massive chest.