by Roger Hurn
Ahketnan shook his head disapprovingly. ‘There’s no doubt about it, Theoman has really fallen down on the housekeeping of late. You must make a note to do better when you’re High Priest, Salen.’
Ahketnan’s attempt to lighten the mood fell flat. Salen ignored his feeble joke. They both cast their eyes around the gloomy crypt, noting the debris, the cracked canopic jars spilling out mummified hearts and livers, the faded portraits and all the other pathetic offerings, once so bright and full of hope for the life to come, now dulled with age, dirt and neglect. Ahketnan shuddered. Never in his life had he missed the world of sunlight and living, breathing people so much. A terrible doubt seized his heart, but then his eyes came to rest on a stone altar on the other side of the chamber. It was empty but for a box that sat on it like a fat, midnight black beetle. Ahketnan hurtled across the crypt trampling the bones of the dead in his eagerness to get at it.
However, as quick as he was, he was beaten to the casket by Salen who thrust the golden key into the keyhole and wrenched the lid open. A look of pure pleasure washed over his thin face as he reached reverently into the box and took the jewel from its resting place and cradled it against his chest.
‘You are mine now,’ he crooned. ‘And nobody will ever take you from me.’
Ahketnan watched him, an expression as sour as lemons twisting his mouth. ‘Yes, it’s yours,’ he said even though Salen hadn’t asked for his permission. ‘But only on the understanding that nobody ever sees it again. When I’m Pharaoh, I’m Pharaoh for good. No-one’s going to get the chance to cut my reign short.’ And that includes you, my little chum, thought Ahketnan. No, when this caper is over, I think I’ll arrange a one way trip to the next world for you. Well, why not? Salen would really be so much more at home there that I can almost believe that I’m doing it for his own good.
Salen too was making plans for Ahketnan, but he answered mildly enough. ‘Rest assured, my soon to be Pharaoh, I have no intention of letting anyone see the jewel.’
Salen had an enigmatic, dreamy look that set alarm bells ringing in Ahketnan’s head, but he decided to let it pass. This was neither the time nor the place to squabble. He would deal with Salen later.
‘That’s settled then,’ he said. ‘Now let’s get that key back around Theoman’s scrawny neck before he wakes up and misses it.’
Salen stared at him in a way that made icy fingers dance up and down Ahketnan’s spine, but then he smiled a smile full of joy and whispered, ‘Yes, Master, I hear you.’
For an uncomfortable moment, Ahketnan had the feeling that Salen was talking to someone else, but as there was no one else in the room he dismissed it as an idle fancy. My, I’m getting jumpy, he thought. And no wonder. But I will not lose my grip now the hard part is nearly done.
‘Right,’ he said aloud. ‘According to the hieroglyphs, there should be a short cut back to the palace behind a hidden door somewhere at the back of this altar.’
He was silent for a moment as he ran his manicured hands along the rough plaster. ‘Got it,’ he said triumphantly as the altar swung away from the wall revealing the way back.
‘Come on, Salen. The last one back to my apartment is crocodile food.’
Together the two men left the crypt, and hurried back to the warmth and light of the palace. But, behind them, in the darkness something had been disturbed and it would not remain in the darkness much longer.
Chapter Eleven
No sooner had the altar ground its way slowly back into place than the lid of the mummy case that was standing upright against one of the walls swung open and Ashkala stepped out. She scanned the dismal room quickly and then, with a look of intense disappointment on her face, said, ‘You can come out, Kaheb. The Tomb is empty.’ She grimaced. ‘Yet I’m sure I heard voices.’
Kaheb emerged warily from the depths of the case. He looked sick with fear.
‘I don’t mind you hearing voices, Ashkala, just so long as we don’t actually bump into whatever it is that’s making them.’
Ashkala had had enough. ‘Coward!’ she snapped.
‘I am not!’ retorted Kaheb unconvincingly.
‘Then why are you shivering?’ she demanded.
‘Because it’s cold in here and I haven’t got my woolly underwear on.’
His sarcasm bounced off Ashkala without leaving a scratch so he changed the subject. ‘It’s lucky for us that you knew a way into the Tomb that wasn’t protected by the guardians of the Eye.’
‘Luck had nothing to do with it,’ she replied contemptuously. ‘The cult of the Moon Goddess has been in existence since the dawn of time so, naturally, when this Tomb was built my predecessors bribed the slaves who constructed it to incorporate a hidden passage leading to its heart so we can come and go here as we please.’
Ashkala was beginning to sound so smug that Kaheb couldn’t resist saying, ‘And why not? It’s such a lovely place for a picnic.’ However, the effect was lost because, at that moment, a coffin that was balancing precariously on the edge of a stone dais finally gave up the unequal struggle with gravity and fell heavily to the floor. Kaheb screamed and leapt into Ashkala’s arms. They both tumbled to the dust covered floor and Kaheb found himself lying next to the mummified remains of someone who had died three hundred years earlier. He screeched and jumped to his feet again.
Ashkala was already up and making her way to the altar and the casket containing the Eye of the Pharaoh. Kaheb saw what she was doing and cried out, ‘There’s the box! It’s still here. We must have beaten the thief to it.’
‘We’ll see,’ said Ashkala as she began to pick the lock.
Kaheb hovered at her shoulder as she flipped up the lid but then he held his head in his hands when he saw that the box was empty.
‘What are we going to do now?’ he wailed. ‘Without the Eye, Rahemha’s reign is finished.’
‘So is Theoman’s time as High Priest,’ added Ashkala gloomily.
For a second they were both silent then a happy thought struck Kaheb. ‘I’ll be all right though. The new Pharaoh will still need a secretary.’ He smiled brightly.
Ashkala regarded him with the sort of expression she normally only used when she accidentally stepped in camel dung. Her tone of voice matched her expression.
‘Whoever had the jewel stolen will be the next Pharaoh and somehow I don’t think they’ll want you as their secretary. You know too much. No, I would say your life is in as much danger as Ramenha’s.’
Kaheb gasped. ‘I hadn’t thought of that.’
‘No,’ said Ashkala dramatically. ‘But I bet Ahketnan has.’
Kaheb did a double take. ‘What do you mean?’
Ashkala rolled her eyes. ‘Surely it’s obvious even to someone as dim-witted as you that Ahketnan must be the thief.’ Ashkala could tell by the way Kaheb’s mouth dangled open that it wasn’t. ‘Oh for pity’s sake, think about it. Ahketnan’s the next in line to be Pharaoh and we found Theoman drugged and unconscious in his apartment so it has to be Ahketnan.’
Kaheb looked near to tears. He hung his head and moaned, ‘Oh no, I’m finished! Done for! Ruined! I told you this place was cursed. I might as well kill myself now and save Ahketnan the trouble.’
‘That’s what I like about you, Kaheb, you’re so cool in a crisis.’ Ashkala’s contempt was withering but Kaheb barely heard her so wrapped up was he in his own misery. Ashkala shrugged. ‘Oh come on, let’s get back to the palace and Kaheb do stop wittering on about painless ways of committing suicide. I’m trying to think.’
Chapter Twelve
Despite the lateness of the hour, Ramenha was still up studying his plans when Ashkala and Kaheb burst in on him. Kaheb neatly side-stepped the grasping lunge of a servant and pirouetted past the startled soldiers guarding the Pharaoh. He fell to his knees at Ramenha’s feet and gasped out, ‘My Lord, we’re done for!’
Ramenha was shaken out of his normal composure and a look of irritation darkened his face. ‘Whatever do you mean, Kaheb? And whe
re have you been ‘till this hour? I want you to make copies of these new plans of mine and …’
‘Forget the ditches!’ screamed Kaheb leaping to his feet and knocking the plans out of Ramenha’s hands as he did so. ‘We’re finished I tell you.’
Ashkala watched Kaheb’s performance with horror. He had promised to stay quiet and leave all the talking to her but, as she was beginning to realise, Kaheb was a trifle unreliable. Ramenha’s placid features were now flushed with anger and he turned to Ashkala and demanded an explanation.
‘Has he been drinking, Ashkala?’
Ashkala fixed him with her large clear eyes before answering. ‘No he hasn’t but someone has stolen the Eye of the Pharaoh from the Tomb of the Kings and the shock of that seems to have addled his wits.’
A profound silence filled the room as everyone stared at the Priestess. Then the silence was broken by a familiar urbane voice.
‘Did I hear you say someone’s stolen the Eye of the Pharaoh, Ashkala? My, my, what a dreadful thing to do.’
Ahketnan and Salen had entered unnoticed by anyone, but as soon as Kaheb saw them he cowered behind a burly servant. Ramenha gave his uncle a swift glance and then turned his attention back to Ashkala. In a voice that was edged with steel he asked her how she knew the Eye was missing? Ashkala shot an unfathomable look at Ahketnan before replying, ‘We found Theoman unconscious in Ahketnan’s apartment and the golden key was missing!’
Before Ramenha could speak, Ahketnan slid in a question like a knife between the ribs. ‘Just who do you mean when you say “we”. Who broke into my private quarters with you?’
‘We didn’t break into your quarters. We were looking for you. When we arrived the door was open so we went in.’ She spoke in a matter-of-fact tone that belied her nervousness. She knew that Ahketnan had the upper hand at the moment and that the situation had to be handled very carefully indeed. Still, she reasoned, as long as Kaheb keeps calm and backs me up we should make it. After all, Ramenha’s no fool and there’s no love lost between him and his uncle.
‘Perhaps the door was open as you say,’ said Ahketnan smoothly. ‘My servants were having a night off and Salen and I had popped out for a breath of fresh air. We’d been having rather a heavy drinking session with Theoman.’ He chortled indulgently. ‘I’m afraid he passed out so we left him to sleep it off while we sobered up by taking a stroll. When we returned he was still snoring like a slave sawing wood so we thought we’d look in on you, dearest nephew, to chat about the day’s events over a goblet or two before going to bed.’ He paused and shook his head sadly, ‘But, I say again, who was your accomplice, Ashkala? One of your young priestesses maybe?’
Ashkala met his deceptively mild gaze with eyes like huge black stones.
‘Kaheb was with me.’
‘No, I wasn’t,’ shouted Kaheb. ‘I don’t know what she’s on about.’ He looked pleadingly at Ahketnan. ‘She’s crazy if you ask me. All those sacrifices have finally sent her over the top. I’ve been alone in my room all night until she came and dragged me down here with some cock and bull story about the Eye being stolen!’
‘Liar!’ Ashkala spat the word at him and he flinched as if she’d struck him a blow with her fist. But, before anything more could be said, Theoman walked rather unsteadily into the room.
Chapter Thirteen
The High Priest clutched at Ahketnan’s arm to steady himself. ‘Forgive my slightly woozy state, my Lord, but I went to Ahketnan’s for a drink after our day in the desert and, I’m afraid I may have had one too many. I think the day took rather more out of me than I bargained for.’ He smiled a weak smile at Ramenha. ‘And I’m not as young as I once was so I can’t hold my wine like I used to. Still, I feel better for dozing off. Ahketnan kindly let me have a nap on his couch.’
‘And you had a sweet and dreamless sleep I trust,’ inquired Ahketnan as if they were not all caught up in a life or death struggle.
‘Why yes, thank you.’ Theoman smiled at Ahketnan.
‘Always the sign of a clear conscience I say,’ chuckled Ahketnan.
‘Which is more than you’ve got, Ahketnan.’ Ashkala’s voice rang out accusingly.
Ahketnan threw his hands up. ‘I beg your pardon, young lady?’
His look of injured innocence was touching to see but, before Ashkala could respond, Ramenha spoke to Theoman. ‘Ashkala says your golden key has been taken and that the Eye of the Pharaoh has been stolen. Has it?’
Before a visibly stunned Theoman could respond, Ashkala interjected, ‘Stolen by Ahketnan so that he can become Pharaoh in your place Ramenha!’
A buzz of excited comment ran round the room but Ahketnan’s voice cut through the babble.
‘Reallly, My Lord, I must protest my innocence.’
‘Of course you must,’ said Ramenha. ‘An innocent person always does … but, unfortunately, so does a guilty person and, in my experience, just as loudly.’ He gave his uncle a quizzical look, but Ahketnan returned his gaze steadily.
Ramenha broke eye contact and turned his attention to his High Priest. ‘Well, Theoman, has your key been taken?’
Theoman fumbled under his collar while everyone else held their breath. Theoman was unusual in that he wore a long robe whilst most men wore a kilt and went bare-chested. His choice of garment was dictated by his desire to conceal the golden key from what he regarded as the vulgar gaze of the populace. Now it just added to the suspense.
‘Ah,’ he said after what seemed an agonisingly long time, ‘here it is.’ He produced the key for all to see.
Ramenha looked extremely serious as he said, ‘Well, Priestess, what do you say now?’
Ashkala did not seem disconcerted by this latest turn of events and she answered confidently enough, ‘I say how do you explain the fact that the Eye has gone from its casket in the Tomb of the Kings?’ Her face blazed a challenge at Ahketnan, but he was equal to it.
‘And I say how do you know it has? Correct me if I’m wrong but surely entry into the Tomb is forbidden on pain of death?’
Salen chose this moment to thrown his weight behind his ally. ‘That IS correct,’ he said emphatically.
The colour drained from Theoman’s brown, wrinkled face leaving it looking like a pale raisin. ‘Have you been inside the Tomb?’
Ashkala thrust out her pointed chin definantly. ‘I have and Kaheb was with me. We both saw that the jewel was gone.’
‘She’s off her head,’ screamed Kaheb. ‘I haven’t been anywhere or seen anything.’ He was shaking like a jelly in a gale.
Ramenha drew in a deep breath before saying gently, ‘Ashkala, think carefully, if you persist with your story I shall have no choice but to have you arrested.’
Ashkala stamped her foot. ‘Yes, you do have a choice. All you have to do is go to the Tomb of the Kings and look for yourself.’
‘No! This is sacrilege.’ Theoman was beside himself with anger. ‘Once the Eye of the Pharaoh has been returned to its hiding place no one may see or touch it again until it is time for the ceremony once more.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, Ramenha, I dare not break this sacred law even to save Ashkala from death.’
‘And die she must!’ snarled Salen. ‘It will be a lesson to all those meddling priestesses of the so-called Moon Goddess. They have a pride far in excess of their importance.’
‘Thank you, Salen,’ put in Ahketnan hurriedly. ‘But perhaps this is neither the time nor the place to air one’s religious prejudices. Pharaoh will naturally see that justice is done.’ He looked expectantly at Ramenha.
‘Yes … Yes I will,’ said Ramenha. ‘Though I do so with a heavy heart.’ His eyes sought out his High Priest. ‘Theoman, is there no other penalty? Must she be condemned to death?’
Theoman nodded. ‘I’m afraid so, My Lord. It is the law.’
Salen could not contain himself. ‘Don’t waste any sympathy on her,’ he shouted. ‘She deserves all that’s coming to her.’
Both Ashkala and Kaheb exchanged fra
ntic glances prompting the Captain of the Guard to motion his men forward to hold them in order to prevent any attempt at escape. Kaheb’s shoulders slumped but then he straightened up and said, ‘Wait! Wait a minute …All right, I’ll admit it. I was with Ashkala in the Tomb. She’s telling the truth. The Eye has been stolen.’
‘In the same way that Theoman’s key was stolen?’ Ahketnan’s eyebrows had journeyed halfway up his considerable forehead and his voice was a vitriolic drawl.
‘You could have replaced the key when you returned from the Tomb,’ said Kaheb. ‘You had time.’
‘But nobody could have taken or replaced the key without waking me,’ said Theoman. ‘I’m a light sleeper.’
‘You weren’t sleeping, you were drugged.’
Theoman snorted with derision. ‘How and by whom?’
Kaheb had the bit between his teeth now and he was determined to lay bare Ahketnan’s plot.
‘By Ahketnan, of course. He put a powder into your goblet when you went to his apartment for a drink. All we have to do is send a servant over there to fetch the goblet back here and then you’ll see.’ Kaheb sounded confident. Sadly his confidence was to prove misplaced.
‘Send a servant by all means,’ said Ahketnan smoothly. ‘But I’m a tidy man and, as my servants were off for the night, I washed the goblets and put them away myself. I wish I hadn’t now because, if I hadn’t, I could show you that there isn’t, and never was, any powder.’
Kaheb groaned and seemed to deflate before their eyes. Ashkala, on the other hand, was made of sterner stuff.
‘You’ve never done a stroke of work in your life, Ahketnan! If you could get a slave to breathe for you, you would, so don’t try and kid us that you did the washing up! So the question is: just why did you give your servants the night off?’
Ahketnan looked at her scornfully and said, ‘I’m sure you’re going to tell me.’