“I couldn’t stop thinking about what I saw in Setnakht’s tomb,” Kenamon said. “I told Father about it, but he was afraid that if we went to the Scribe, it would mean trouble for our family. He told me I should stay quiet. If I had seen the clues, surely others would, too. And if they didn’t, perhaps I had just imagined them.
“I knew I hadn’t imagined them,” the boy went on, “but I didn’t want to cause trouble for our family. So I thought I would try to track down the robber myself. If I could find the missing treasure, then no one could blame me, and my family might even get a reward.”
I couldn’t help feeling a certain amount of pride. The boy had all the traits of a Great Detective in the making. Well, except for being human, of course. But that was hardly his fault.
Kenamon’s voice grew stronger, almost as if he could sense my approval. “I thought it might be Neferhotep who was the thief because he was acting like a rich man, buying lots of art for his tomb. But then I overheard the Captain of the Guard scolding his brother Huya for gambling. ‘You’re acting all big and bold,’ he said, ‘and you’re saying you’ll win it back. But Neferhotep’s got half your savings now.’ So that explained why Neferhotep had so much to spend.”
“Aha!” Khepri whispered into my ear. “It wasn’t gold or cold that Boo overheard, but bold.”
“No wonder Neferhotep was singing about how lucky he was, and Huya kept scowling at him,’ ” I whispered back.
“Then I started thinking about the village tombs,” Kenamon continued, “and what a good hiding place they would be. I had a look around, and in Bek’s tomb I found a secret entrance into another, older tomb. I was there when Bek came up and hit me.” He shivered. “When I woke up in that sarcophagus, I thought I’d been buried alive.”
I nudged my head against his hands and purred—my own way of urging him to go on with his story. Curving his arms around me and Miu, Kenamon went on to tell Pharaoh everything that had happened after that, including the way that Miu and Khepri and I had saved the day.
When he finished, Pharaoh said, “And then Ra the Mighty led me to you.”
He and the boy both beamed down at me.
It was a wonderful moment. Even better than spiced ibex. But better still was the moment, an hour later, when we got back to Set Ma’at, and Pentu the painter was freed.
“Father!” Kenamon broke into a limping run. “It’s me!”
“Kenamon.” Pentu’s wrists were chafed from the ropes, but he wrapped his arms tight around the boy.
“Now, that’s what I call a happy ending,” Miu said with satisfaction.
“And another mystery solved,” Khepri said.
I didn’t say anything, but I was pretty pleased. Yet again, Pharaoh’s Cat was a hero.
Only one thing bothered me. I scratched at my scruffy coat.
“What does a cat have to do to get groomed around here?” I asked.
Holding Court
Who knew they had such nice brushes, baths, and perfumes in Set Ma’at? Not that I’m a big fan of baths normally, but there’s a time and a place for everything, especially if I’m being fed snacks. We went through the Scribe’s most expensive toiletries, and I made quite a mess in his bathing area, but two hours later, as sunlight poured over Set Ma’at, I was back to my old self again.
“Wow, Ra.” Khepri climbed back onto my head. “You are squeaky clean.”
“Watch the feet,” I said sternly. “Is that dung I smell?”
“The very best dung,” Khepri reassured me with a happy sigh. “I went to Menwi’s for breakfast.”
I sat up, horrified. “Khepri! I’ve just bathed.”
“Don’t worry,” Khepri said. “I wiped my feet. Er…and the rest of me.”
“I should have made them pour on an extra bottle of perfume,” I moaned.
“You smell fine,” Miu told me. “More like a rose garden than a cat, to be honest, but—”
“As long as I don’t smell like dung.” I stretched out on the Scribe’s steps to take in the sun. “Hey, do you see those cats over there, across the street? I think they’re staring at me.”
Miu checked them out. “The one on the left is your double, Ra. It must be the imposter.”
I rolled over and squinted. “Impossible! You could hardly call him good-looking, could you?”
“No, but he does resemble you,” Khepri said. “I wonder if he’s hoping to take your place again.”
I flexed my claws. “Just let him try.”
“I don’t think that’s what he’s saying.” Miu tilted her head. “Listen.”
I swiveled my ears and caught a few words.
“…and then they put perfume on me, would you believe it?” the cat was saying to his friend. “It smelled even worse than those disgusting sauces they kept feeding me. I tell you, I’ve never been so glad to get back home. This is the good life here in Set Ma’at, no doubt about it…”
“You have got to be kidding me,” I said as Miu and Khepri giggled.
“Tastes differ,” Miu said.
“They certainly do.” But that was just as well. I stretched back out on the step, content. “To each his own.”
“Is Pharaoh still holding court in the Scribe’s house?” Khepri asked Miu.
“He must be nearly done,” Miu said. “While Ra was getting his bath, I went to listen. The Scribe and the Vizier had already confessed. They’ve been keeping back some of the workers’ wages for themselves and blaming Pharaoh for the cuts. They accused each other of being the ringleader.”
“But why didn’t they investigate the tomb robbery properly?” I asked. “They weren’t involved.”
“No, but each one thought the other was up to something, and they were hoping for a share of the profits.”
“I bet they also worried that a full investigation would involve Pharaoh,” Khepri said. “And they didn’t want Pharaoh taking a closer look at Set Ma’at.”
“Pharaoh’s dismissed them from their posts now,” Miu said. “They’re in disgrace. They have to pay the villagers back double what they owe, plus heavy fines to Pharaoh. Huya’s been dismissed, too. He was helping the Scribe cheat the other villagers.”
“What about Bek?” I wanted to know.
“The punishment for tomb robbing is death,” Miu said, “but Bek broke down completely and pleaded for forgiveness. Pharaoh says he’ll spare Bek’s life because of his family’s long service, but Bek will still pay for his crimes. Pharaoh is sending him to one of the royal quarries.”
“So he’ll spend the rest of his life under guard, chipping away at a rock face?” Khepri said. “Yikes!”
“He disturbed the eternal rest of a pharaoh and his cat,” I reminded Khepri. “And he was going to kill Kenamon.”
“Yes, he was willing to sacrifice the boy just so he could have a glorious afterlife.” Miu sighed. “Honestly, why do people get so obsessed with their tombs?”
“Not just people.” Khepri glanced at me.
“Hey,” I said, stung. “I’m not obsessed.”
They exchanged a look.
“Okay, maybe I am, a little,” I admitted. “But I know when to step back. I’m not like Bek or Sabu.”
“Speaking of which,” Khepri said, “there they go now.”
The guards were marching Bek down the street, arms tied behind his back. Seeing him pass by with his head bent low, it was hard to believe he’d been the mighty figure in the Anubis mask who had terrorized Kenamon.
Trailing behind Bek and the guards, Sabu wailed, “It’s not fair!” When he passed us, he hissed and leaped for me. “I’ll make you pay for this, Fancypaws!”
I jumped up to fight, but Pharaoh had come to my side. Seeing him, Sabu slinked away and followed Bek out of the village.
Pharaoh looked down at me fondly. “A friend of yours, Ra?”
He’s a very clever man, Pharaoh. But sometimes he completely misses the point.
Oh, well. He’s still my Pharaoh. I curled my tail and sat in the perfect Bastet position at his feet.
“It’s good to see you looking like yourself again,” he told me. “Well, almost yourself.”
Almost? I was taken aback. Had someone missed a spot in my grooming?
As I made a discreet inspection of my paws and rear, Pharaoh gestured to the doorway behind us, where Kenamon stood with his father. Aside from some grazes from the ropes, the boy looked strong and well. Even better, he looked happy.
As he came forward, Pharaoh put something sparkling in his hand. “Kenamon, perhaps you would put this on Ra?”
“With pleasure, Great Ruler of Rulers.”
It was my collar! My own, golden collar. I stood proudly at attention while Kenamon fastened it.
“I’m going to give you the best tomb portrait any Pharaoh’s Cat ever had,” Kenamon whispered. When I nuzzled his fingers, he smiled. “Come back soon, Ra the Mighty.”
I brushed my whiskers against his hand. I will.
“Time to go home, Ra,” Pharaoh said.
In the midst of dusty Set Ma’at, our splendid litter shone like a small sun. As Pharaoh held back the shimmering curtains, I leaped up onto it. Khepri was on my head, with Miu close behind.
“Your reward shall be paid in gold,” Pharaoh said to Kenamon. “And perhaps you will come to the palace one day, and paint these three together.” He gestured to the pillows where Khepri, Miu, and I had settled down.
“O Ruler of Rulers, I would be honored,” Kenamon said, beaming.
“Did you hear that, Miu?” Khepri hopped off my head and bounced on the pillow. “We’re going to have our portrait painted, too.”
“And we’ll get to see the boy again.” Miu sounded pleased.
As Pharaoh spoke with the boy and his father, Khepri said, “You know, Ra, we never did get to see your tomb.”
“That’s okay.” I sprawled back on the pillows. “If you ask me, tombs are overrated.”
Miu and Khepri looked startled.
“True,” Miu said, “but I never thought I’d hear you say that, Ra.”
“No, never,” Khepri agreed.
“A cat can change his mind,” I told them as Pharaoh climbed in beside us. “Especially Pharaoh’s Cat. Life is for living, that’s what I say.”
“And for being Great Detectives,” Khepri said eagerly.
“And making friends,” Miu added, looking fondly at Khepri and me.
“That’s right!” I dug into the bowls that Pharaoh offered us. “And don’t forget the snacks.”
Beneath us, the magnificent litter swayed, and we headed back to Thebes.
Ra’s Glossary of Names
Anubis (ah-noo-bis): The jackal-headed guide of the afterlife—and maybe a hair-raising haunter of tombs.
Bastet (bas-tet): The most elegant goddess around. Naturally, she’s a cat.
Bek (bek): A remarkable sculptor who loves his job—and his cat, Sabu.
Boo (boo): Surprisingly likable, considering he’s a dog. Much too fond of games.
Huya (hoo-yah): A carpenter with a smirk, big biceps, and a very fierce goose. The Captain of the Guard’s little brother.
Isesu (ee-seh-soo): Kenamon’s little sister, who knows what she wants.
Kenamon (ken-ah-mon): Sharp-eyed boy genius and portrait painter. Gifted cat carrier.
Khepri (kep-ree): My scarab beetle buddy. A fan of mysteries and dung.
Menwi (men-wee): A corker of a porker, and the Scribe’s favorite pet. A lady who needs her beauty sleep.
Miu (mew): Friend and fellow Great Detective. Champion of the underdog, even though she’s a cat.
Neferhotep (nef-er-hoe-tep): A lucky goldsmith with itchy fingers and lots of rings.
Nefru (nef-ru): Neferhotep’s kitten. What did she see—and how much does she know?
Pamiu (pah-mew): Former Pharaoh’s Cat and beloved companion of Setnakht. Entered the afterlife in a snazzy gold sarcophagus.
Pentu (pen-too): Kenamon’s father. Rabble-rouser, tomb painter, and worried dad.
Sabu (sah-boo): Miu’s cousin and the feline boss of Set Ma’at. Definitely not a Great Detective.
Set Ma’at (set mah-aht): “The Place of Truth”—that is, the village where the tomb workers live. (If you ask me, they should have called it “the Place of Dust.”)
Setnakht (set-nahkt): Pharaoh’s forefather. Illustrious companion of Pamiu. Owner of a magnificent tomb.
Thebes (theebs): A glamorous city with an elegant palace. Some of the best cat grooming in the kingdom takes place here.
Thutmose (thoot-moh-seh) the Second: One of Pharaoh’s distant ancestors, whose afterlife went up in smoke.
Note
No one knows for certain how ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics were pronounced. Even Egyptologists don’t always agree on how to say them. A name as simple as Thebes can be pronounced “teebs” or “theebs”—and there are other possibilities, too.
Author’s Note
When I close my eyes, I can still see the photos from the first article I ever read about “King Tut” (aka the pharaoh Tutankhamun). I was about nine years old, the same age Tutankhamun was when he became pharaoh. I was awed by the golden treasures in his tomb—and even more by the tale of how that tomb was robbed, resealed, and discovered again thousands of years later. I’ve been fascinated by ancient Egypt and its tombs ever since. It was a pleasure to write more about those tombs in this book, and especially to write about their creators, the people of Set Ma’at.
The village of Set Ma’at really did exist. As Ra explains, its name meant “the Place of Truth.” Located on the West Bank of the Nile across from Thebes, it was the home of the workers who built the royal tombs in the Valley of the Kings (including the one for Tutankhamun). The village existed for roughly five hundred years, from about 1550 to 1080 BCE. Nowadays the site is called Deir el-Medina, and only the ruins remain, but those ruins are very important. From them, we’ve learned a lot about the lives of ordinary people in ancient Egypt.
We know, for instance, that the tomb workers lived very close together, in houses with several ground-floor rooms, a cellar, and a roof terrace. High officials like the Scribe of the Tomb lived in grander houses. Other top-ranked officials included the foremen, who oversaw teams of carpenters, stonemasons, sculptors, painters, and other artisans. (Often a foreman became the boss of Set Ma’at, instead of the Scribe.) For a long time, there was a high wall around the entire village.
Tomb workers often passed their jobs from father to son, and children could begin working in the tombs at a very young age. Tomb workers made a better living than most people in ancient Egypt, so a talented boy like Kenamon could expect to do well. There weren’t enough jobs to go around, however. That’s one reason why some people from Set Ma’at became tomb robbers.
Tomb workers could only enter the Valley of the Kings at specific times, in teams, and under guard. They were closely watched. Nevertheless, some workers managed to steal treasures from right under the guards’ noses. Others joined gangs that broke into the tombs at night. There were also plenty of tomb robbers who had no connection to Set Ma’at at all.
To prevent break-ins, special guards patrolled the Valley of the Kings, keeping watch over the existing tombs and the tombs-in-progress. When royal finances were tight, fewer guards were hired, and tomb robberies became more frequent.
Pharaohs who were short on money also cut tomb workers’ wages. When payments didn’t show up on time, the workers sometimes went on strike. Usually the pharaoh and his advisors found the funds to pay them. Otherwise there would be no tomb—and that would mean a terrible afterlife for the pharaoh.
Ancient Egypt did not have coins or currency as we k
now them today. Instead, the tomb workers were paid in bread and beer and other goods. Bonuses could be paid in oil, salt, and meat. Set Ma’at also received many basic supplies from the government for free, including housing, water, vegetables, fish, firewood, pottery, and even clothing.
Workers also bargained (and sometimes gambled) with one another, not just for everyday items, but also for goods they could use in the afterlife. Their tombs were set into the cliffs near the village, just as this book describes, and they were much simpler than those of the pharaohs. If you ever go to Deir el-Medina, you can visit some of them.
Making these private tombs took up a lot of the workers’ spare time. But they had rich family lives, too. Children’s toys have been found in the ruins of Set Ma’at, and we know that villagers enjoyed games, parties, feasts, and festivals. They also kept pets, and they were fond of cats. Lively drawings of cats appear on a number of Set Ma’at ostraca (broken pieces of pottery with writing on them). It’s fun to imagine Kenamon making a sketch like that of Ra.
Believe it or not, there really were cat mummies in ancient Egypt. The most valuable were put into a cat-shaped mummy case, or sarcophagus. Many thousands of cat mummies have been found at Bubastis, a city that was dedicated to the worship of the cat goddess Bastet. One ancient account says that cats from all over Egypt were buried there. Sadly, many scholars think most of these cat mummies come from sacrifices at Bastet’s temple. Yet some cat mummies—especially the ones in beautiful cases—were probably much-loved pets, and their owners must have hoped to see them again in the afterlife.
The name of Boo, the guard dog, is a tribute to Abutiu (sometimes spelled Abuwtiyuw or Abwtjw), a real Egyptian dog who lived over four thousand years ago. He was a royal guard dog who served a Sixth Dynasty pharaoh. We don’t know who this pharaoh was, but he loved Abutiu so much that he ordered his masons to build a special tomb to honor him.
In ancient Egypt, the animal most associated with tombs (and with the god Anubis) was the jackal. According to recent DNA evidence, a more accurate name for the Egyptian jackal would be the African golden wolf. The name jackal has a long history, however. Outside of scientific circles, people are likely to stick with it, as I’ve done here.
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