Egyptian Curse

by Chris Blake

  Tom grabbed the rope.

  “HEAVE!” the foreman yelled. His whip snapped on a worker’s back. “HEAVE!”

  The sledge hardly moved an inch, even with everyone pulling. Tom could feel the scratchy rope biting into his hands. To make matters worse, the sun blazed down on his head.

  “This is not a job for a princess!” Isis gasped.

  Crack! went the whip. “Get on with it, boy!” the foreman barked at her.

  Isis’s eyebrows bunched together. “Boy? I’m not a boy – I’m a princess. I’m going to teach that bully a lesson!” she hissed, throwing the rope to the ground.

  “No, Isis! Don’t—”

  Tom reached out to stop her, and lost his grip on the rope.

  “No!” he cried.

  Too late! Tom stumbled and several huge, muscly builders piled on top of him and Isis, as the entire line gave way. From underneath the mountain of workers, Tom spied a very angry-looking foreman.

  “You! Get over here!” he snarled at Tom, cracking his whip. “I’m going to give you the thrashing of your life!”

  Snap! The foreman’s whip whizzed through the air and cracked on the sand, right by Tom’s feet.

  “I don’t have time for weaklings!” the foreman shouted, grinning nastily.

  Tom braced himself for the whip’s sting. But suddenly a young man, dressed in a pleated loincloth, ran up to the foreman. He whispered urgently in his ear.

  The foreman frowned at Tom and Isis. “It’s your lucky day – I don’t have time to give you a beating. Get over to the old temple wall and help chisel off the picture of Aten!” He pointed at a stone building in the distance.

  Tom, Isis and Cleo ran off before he could change his mind.

  The temple was full of workers hacking away at a picture of a large disc carved into a lump of pink granite.

  “Yikes. That was close,” Tom said. “Who’s this Aten?”

  Isis shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said.

  One of the workers, who’d stopped chiselling to wipe his sweaty brow, looked at Isis and chuckled. He pointed to the disc.

  “This is Aten, silly!” he said. “The Sun God, of course.”

  “Nonsense!” Isis scoffed. “Everyone knows the Sun God and creator of all things is Ra! Amun-Ra!”

  “What? Where have you two been?” the man asked. “The whole reason we’re getting rid of this carving is because the old pharaoh made everyone worship just one god, Aten. His son, the new pharaoh, has gone back to worshipping the old gods – so there’s a lot of work for us changing all the temples back.”

  “Quite right,” Isis said, frowning at the giant carved disc. “Whoever heard of having just one god? How ridiculous!”

  Seeing a new foreman glaring at them, Tom and Isis each picked up a chisel and hammer and began chipping away at the rock. Even Cleo scratched at the carving with her claws.

  After a while, Isis groaned. “This is the most boring thing I’ve ever done,” she complained.

  “More boring than being stuck in a statue for five thousand years?” Tom asked.

  Isis rolled her eyes. Then she started to chisel her own marks into the granite. Tom watched a picture take shape beneath her tools.

  “What’s that?” he asked.

  There was a stick figure with wings, standing next to a large circle. The stick figure had its hands on its hips.

  “See that?” Isis said proudly. “That’s the goddess Isis.”

  “What’s that thing coming out of her mouth?” Tom asked.

  “She’s sticking out her tongue at Aten, obviously!”

  “Obviously,” said Tom, squinting at the little cartoon in the stone. He spied another stick figure with pointy ears, bending over. “Who’s this meant to be?”

  Isis started to giggle. “That’s Anubis wiggling his bum at Aten.”

  Tom laughed.

  Suddenly, a loud tooting sound rang out through the temple. There was the scuffle of sandalled feet. Tom looked round and saw the foreman blowing a horn. Toot! TOOOOOT!

  “Listen up, you lazy lot!” the foreman shouted out to the groups of builders and craftsmen. “King Tutankhamun is coming to inspect the temple, so you’d better be on your best behaviour!” He shook his whip. “Or you’ll answer to this.”

  The foreman blew his horn in Isis’s face, then strode to the other side of the temple courtyard.

  Tom turned to Isis. “Did you hear who’s coming?” he asked excitedly. “King Tuthankhamun!”

  “Never heard of him,” Isis grumbled, rubbing her ear.

  Tom gasped. “I can’t believe you haven’t heard of King Tut. He’s only the most famous Ancient Egyptian pharaoh ever!” Grinning, he told Isis all about Howard Carter’s discovery of King Tutankhamun’s tomb. “His tomb was stuffed full of treasure! Statues, gold, jewellery and even mummified servants …”

  “I bet my tomb was full of lovely things too,” Isis said, looking a little put out.

  “Well, King Tut’s tomb was special, because by the time it was discovered most pharaohs’ tombs had been raided by thieves. And get this! He was really young when he became Pharaoh.” Tom looked down at Isis’s scarab ring, suddenly remembering the words of the riddle. “Hang on a minute,” he said. “The riddle tells us to ‘seek a boy king’, doesn’t it? It must be him!”

  Isis started to jump up and down with excitement. “So King Tut will help us find the amulet!” she squealed.

  Tom and Isis stared as the legendary boy king made his grand entrance to the temple. Except that, apart from more horn-tooting, it wasn’t very grand at all.

  “That’s King Tut?” Tom said out of the corner of his mouth. “He’s limping!”

  Isis shielded her eyes from the blazing sun and squinted at the king. “My father was a much more impressive-looking pharaoh. This one looks like they tried to wash him in the Nile and he shrank!” She started to giggle.

  As King Tutankhamun hobbled towards them, his skinny body looked as though it was about to crumple under the weight of his gold jewelled collar.

  Two older men stood either side of him.

  One was wearing a leather tunic covered in metal scales, like armour. The other was dressed like the king, in a linen kilt. Servants waved cool air on them all, using giant, feathered fans.

  “King Tut looks bored listening to those old guys!” Tom said. He strained to hear what the men were saying.

  “I tell you, Egypt is going to be invaded any day now,” the man in the leather tunic said to the other man. “You’re the royal vizier. After the pharaoh, you have the most important job in the entire kingdom. Tell His Royal Highness that we must take action!”

  “General Horemheb, the Hittites would never dare invade Egypt,” the vizier said, frowning.

  “Who are the Hittites?” Tom whispered to Isis.

  “They’re the people who live north of Egypt,” explained Isis. “They’re our enemies, but they’re no match for the Egyptians.”

  “How are we going to get close to the king?” Tom said. “Maybe we should try to distract his minders …”

  “I’ve got a better idea,” Isis said. “Watch this!”

  Isis unexpectedly darted out from the huddle of builders that had gathered to greet their king.

  “Yoo-hoo, Your Royal Highness!” she shouted to King Tut, waving frantically. “I’m Princess Isis Amun-Ra from—”

  General Horemheb whipped out his sword. He pointed the gleaming tip at Isis’s throat.

  “Nobody comes near the king!” he snarled. “Get back!”

  Tom hurried over and pulled Isis away from the blade.

  “What are you doing?” Isis hissed.

  “Saving your skin!” Tom said. “Dying once is bad enough. Dying twice is plain silly.”

  Isis folded her arms. She glared at the general and then turned to Tom. “How else are we going to get near the king? We might not get another chance!”

  Tom racked his brains for a plan. We’ve got to attract his attention s
omehow, he thought. “Hey! King Tut! We’re your two biggest fans!” he cried out.

  The boy king glanced over, still looking bored. Then his eyes came to rest on Isis’s rude carving of the gods. King Tut froze, a strange look on his face.

  Oh no! thought Tom. We’ve offended the pharaoh!

  King Tut clutched at his stomach and bent over. He started to shake and made a terrible noise, like a braying donkey.

  Tom gulped and bowed low. “Your R-royal Highness, I’m s-so sorry,” he stuttered. “We didn’t mean to upset you. We were just having a bit of fun. Please don’t cry.”

  “Cry?” King Tut asked, straightening up. He grinned. “I’m not crying.” He pointed to Isis’s carving. “I’m laughing! That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever seen!”

  “Oh, phew,” Tom said. “I’m Tom and this here is—”

  “Isis!” Isis said, pushing Tom aside. “Nice to meet you.” She gestured to Cleo, who was playfully batting at a lizard. “This is my cat, Cleopatra.”

  “You two are funny!” said King Tut to Tom and Isis. “You’ve got to come to the palace and be my servants.”

  “Oh, thanks,” Tom said. “We’d love to!”

  General Horemheb put his right hand over his chest and bowed low. “Your Highness,” he began, “you already have enough servants.”

  “Yes, definitely,” Vizier Ay said, giving Tom a sour look. “We’re on the brink of war with the Hittites. The last thing we need is to have people we don’t know running about the palace.” He looked at Tom’s blonde hair and pale skin suspiciously. “What if he’s a Hittite spy?” Ay asked.

  “I’m not!” Tom snapped. “We’re just travellers passing through.”

  “From where?” Ay said.

  “Nowhere you will have heard of … but I’m definitely not a Hittite!”

  Isis leaned in, her eyes twinkling mischievously. “Of course you’d say that even if you were a spy.”

  Tom crossed his arms and stared at her in disbelief. “Er, whose side are you on?” he asked.

  Then King Tut stamped his foot so hard that everybody stopped arguing.

  “I’m the pharaoh here!” he shouted, glaring at the vizier and the general. “It’s my decision. They’re coming to the palace and that’s that!”

  The king’s outburst did the trick.

  Ay shrugged his shoulders. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

  Phew! thought Tom. They weren’t just getting close to the king – they were going to his palace! And, best of all, the famous pharaoh seemed pretty cool.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Tut said merrily. Tom helped the boy king into a golden chariot that had two stallions harnessed to it. “I’ll take you to the palace myself. This is going to be great!”

  “Wait for me, Your Majesty!” General Horemheb shouted. “I’ll drive you home!”

  But King Tut just turned away as though he had not heard.

  Isis stroked the carved sides of the chariot. “It’s been a long time since we’ve travelled in one of these, hasn’t it, Fluffpot?” she said, leaping aboard. Cleo meowed loudly and jumped into her arms.

  It was a tight squeeze. With Isis and the king hogging the front, Tom was balancing on the back. He almost fell out of the chariot when Tut flicked the reins and they started to roll away from the temple. Glancing behind him, Tom saw the grumpy-looking vizier and general piling into another chariot.

  “Show us what it can do, then!” Isis said. “Come on! Let’s go!”

  King Tut nodded and grinned. “Get up, horses!” He flicked his whip and the stallions thundered away in a cloud of dust.

  “Slow down, Your Highness!” the vizier called out. “Remember what the doctor said about your health!”

  But Tut showed no signs of slowing. He shouted, “Yippee!” as Isis urged him to go faster and faster.

  “Woo-hoo!” cried Tom, clinging on tightly. He felt like they were flying. In no time at all, they reached the palace.

  Bringing the horses to a stop, King Tut climbed out of the chariot, clutching his sides with laughter.

  “That was the best fun I’ve had in ages!” he said.

  “Me too!” Tom said. He could see that the king’s skin had gone from a sickly yellow to being flushed with healthy colour.

  “Welcome to my home!” Tut said.

  Tom gazed in awe at the stone walls that loomed above them, gleaming white in the strong Egyptian sun. He and Isis followed the king through a pair of golden gates, flanked on either side by giant pillars.

  “Not bad!” Tom said, entering a grand stone hallway.

  Suddenly, Ay’s angry voice boomed out behind them. “Your Majesty! That was most unwise.”

  Tom turned round to see the grim face of the vizier. He looked furious! Next to him, General Horemheb was shaking his head.

  “Very silly indeed! What if the chariot had crashed?” the general said.

  King Tut waved away their concerns. “Nonsense! I’m a pharaoh, not a bird’s egg. I don’t break that easily. Now, I suppose you want to discuss the Hittite problem.”

  He waved goodbye to Tom and Isis and then limped after the vizier and the general, who were already marching across the hall. They stopped in front of a doorway, which was guarded by two tall soldiers holding spears. Tom watched as General Horemheb turned round and patted the king on his head.

  “You don’t need to trouble yourself with this boring meeting, Your Majesty. Leave it to me. Go and play with your new servants.”

  Tom cupped his hand round Isis’s ear and whispered, “I think they’re trying to get rid of him.”

  Isis nodded. “That bossy general thinks he’s the real pharaoh.”

  But King Tut did as he was told and walked back over to Tom and Isis. “Come on,” he said. “I’ll show you round your new home.”

  Tom, Isis and Cleo were led through lofty stone halls decorated with huge paintings and hieroglyphics.

  “Wow! This place is amazing,” Tom said.

  Isis merely sniffed. “It’s OK, I suppose.”

  They wandered into a courtyard garden that was full of palm trees. Cleo ran straight to the pond in the middle and swiped her paw at a shadow in the water.

  There was a shimmer and a splash as she tossed a rainbow-coloured fish into the air. Uh oh! thought Tom. Now we’ll be in trouble! But, unexpectedly, Tut started to chuckle as Cleo plopped the fat fish at the king’s feet.

  “Is that a gift for me?” Tut asked. “Clever girl!”

  “Is she?” Tom asked, frowning.

  “Yes!” said Isis, giving her cat a stroke.

  Back inside the palace, the king led them to the throne room. On a raised platform sat a throne made from solid gold. Its surface was studded with jewels. Carved into it was a picture of King Tut throwing a spear at a lion. The walls were decorated with more paintings of him, winning battles or hunting wild animals.

  “This is so cool!” Tom said, impressed.

  Isis waved her hand at the pictures. “Have you really done all these things?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

  King Tut shrugged. “No. It’s just for show.” He pointed to his bad foot. “I can’t be a proper warrior king. Not with my limp.”

  “Nonsense!” Isis scoffed. “Of course you can. You shouldn’t let General Horemheb and Vizier Ay boss you about.”

  Shaking his head, King Tut sighed. “Nobody really liked my father,” he said. “He was unpopular because he forced everyone to start worshipping Aten. Now Egypt is a mess, and the Hittites are trying to grab power while we are weak.” He slumped down into his golden throne. “General Horemheb says the country needs a strong leader, but that’s not going to be me.”

  Tom leaped up. “You can be a great ruler, Your Highness. You’ve just got to believe in yourself.”

  With a grunt, the king stood up. “Maybe,” he said, still sounding unconvinced. “Come on. Let me show you the rest of the palace.”

  Isis nudged Tom. She pointed to a symbol that looked like a cross
with a loop at the top, which was painted on the wall. “Look, Tom! That’s an ankh. Remember the riddle?”

  “Now we just need to find one with an amulet inside it,” Tom said, nodding.

  As they wandered from room to room, Tom and Isis searched for ankhs. Now he knew what they looked like, Tom saw them everywhere.

  As King Tut led them into a banqueting hall, Tom spotted a huge statue of Anubis at the far end. His heart pounded.

  “Look!” Tom whispered. “Anubis is holding an ankh.”

  “There’s a big purple stone in it,” Isis whispered back. “That’s the sixth amulet! I bet you a thousand scarabs!”

  As Isis distracted Tut by asking him questions about the palace, Tom raced to the statue and tried to pry the purple gem out of the ankh.

  Suddenly, the giant statue came to life. With a snarl, Anubis pushed Tom to the ground. His eyes glowing red with fury, the god plucked out the purple jewel and flung it at Tom, narrowly missing him.

  “How DARE you damage my statue,” he hissed furiously.

  “I’m sorry,” Tom said, gulping. “I thought it was the sixth amulet.” But looking at the gem on the floor, he saw that it was a dull purple, rather than glowing with magic.

  “You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?” sneered Anubis. “I warned you this would be your hardest challenge yet!”

  Letting out a booming laugh, the god of the Underworld snapped his finger and gems rained down like hailstones, pelting Tom.

  Tom hid his face in his hands until the shower of jewels finally stopped.

  When he dared to look again, he saw that the statue of Anubis was just a statue once more, and the gems had vanished. But instead of feeling relieved, Tom felt more worried than ever.

  There were ankhs and gems all over the palace. How on earth are we ever going to find the amulet amongst so much other treasure? He wondered. One thing was for sure – Anubis was right when he said it wasn’t going to be easy.

  “Will you keep still?” Isis snapped at King Tut.