The Curse of Anubis - A Mystery in Ancient Egypt (The Mummifier's Daughter Series Book 3)

by Nathaniel Burns

  “We all knew him. He is one of the best scribes. He uses the most intricate details to bring his work to life. He did most of the work in the great Queen Nefertari’s tomb,” the elderly man replied, as they continued along the long passage.

  “Did he have any enemies, anyone who did not like him?” Moses asked, as they came to a second set of stairs.

  “No, he was a good man, which is why I do not understand why someone would want to kill him. He even had several youngsters who wanted to become his apprentices.”

  They proceeded down a second set of stairs and the familiar, stomach churning, smell of death hung in the air as they reached the end. No matter how often Shabaka smelled it, it always made him gag.

  Crossing the ritual pit, they entered the first pillared hall, which had not been fully lit, and could just make out a body lying on the floor.

  “I was lighting the lamps when I found him.”

  “Did you move him?” Shabaka asked, as he approached the body.

  “I shook him to see if he was asleep, but stopped when I saw the blood.”

  Shabaka looked at the body and its odd placement, knowing that it in all likelihood he would be set in that position. He turned to look at Moses. “You’ve been working closely with Neti, what do you think?”

  Moses stepped closer, before turning to look at Neferhotep, “I need more light, please.”

  “Certainly,” the man said, moving from them and systematically going around the room, lighting all of the lamps as he went.

  Moses turned to look at the man before him, gently touching the head, while keeping clear of the pool of blood. “He was knocked over the head, with something,” Moses said, “But I have no idea what was used. You will have to ask Neti that.”

  “Neti is not here,” Shabaka deadpanned.

  “Then you will have to send for her,” Moses calmly replied, while reaching for the man’s arm, pulling it some. It, however, remained where it lay. He then looked at the underside of the body; something Shabaka had seen Neti do on several occasions. “He died in this position and has been dead for most of the evening.”

  Shabaka looked around the room, but quickly became disheartened, for there was no way to determine who had moved around within it, as there were several stations set up.

  “We will need to see his work area,” Shabaka said, turning toward the elderly man.

  “He worked on that side,” the man said, pointing to the far, right-side wall, “But he would have packed up his tools.”

  Shabaka looked around the body, “I don’t see them with him. When was the last time you saw him alive?”

  “He packed up with the rest of us; although I believe he turned back. One of my men said he said he forgot something.”

  “Who told you that?” Shabaka posed.

  “Nameb’s assistant.”

  “We will need to speak with him and his mentor”

  The man shook his head, “That will not be possible. Nameb has taken his two days. He had something to attend to. His assistant is outside, though.”

  “Well, that is convenient,” Moses skeptically replied.

  “Nameb asked for his two days some time ago. His skills are not essential at the moment, so I let him go. He should be in the village. The guards know where to find him.”

  “That sounds ominous,” Moses commented.

  “He has had several complaints lodged against him, some accusations of adultery. He is a skilled worker, though.”

  “I see,” Shabaka said, turning his attention to Moses, “What do you suggest? We can’t leave the body like this until Neti arrives.”

  “You are going to send for her?” Moses questioned in surprise, not having thought that Shabaka would listen to him, having assumed that they would rather send the body to her, as they did in Thebes.

  Shabaka nodded, “I would not know where to start looking.”

  Moses pointed toward the body, “Have him moved to a per-nefer. They can see to him until she arrives.”

  “Where is the nearest per-nefer?” Shabaka asked the elderly man.

  “He would go to Deir-el-Bahari,” Neferhotep replied.

  “The main temple?” Moses asked in astonishment,

  “They are the only ones here who will be able to do as you say,” Neferhotep replied.

  “We should arrange it then,” Shabaka said, turning from the chamber.

  They exited the tomb, and Shabaka drew the captain aside, explaining the situation to him, after which Shabaka turned to look at Moses, “Were it not for the fact that we should continue our search for Ma-Nefer, I would send you to collect Neti.”

  “Here,” Moses said taking one of his bracelets from his arm. “Knowing Neti, she will be wary of any stranger approaching her,” he said, handing the bracelet to Shabaka.

  “What is this?”

  “It is a bracelet she gave me. It signifies that I am training with her.”

  Shabaka felt a pain stab his chest, followed by a strong jolt of jealousy toward the man, who for all intents and purposes was their apprentice by order of the pharaoh. He closed his hand around the simple bracelet, knowing he could not as easily hand over something she had given to him. He was even reluctant to part with it, when he turned to the guard who had been assigned duty with him. Forcing himself, he handed the man the bracelet and explained to him where to find her.

  * * *

  It was just after sunset as Ma-Nefer’s hand tightened around his whip. He had made the arrangements to distract the guard to allow him access to Neti. Her bearers had long since gone home, and other than the appointed guard, she was completely alone in her per-nefer. He was going to make her regret the day she tried to outsmart him. She would scream, bleed and beg for mercy before he was done with her. Just the thought excited him and set his heart racing.

  He anxiously waited for the diversion, becoming increasingly irritable, and finally frowned when a dark-skinned man approached the guard. He had not asked as to what kind of diversion one of his contacts had arranged and did not care whom they used, although, from a distance the man had an official stance. He scrutinized the man and considered his usefulness: insiders in the pharaoh’s matters were always useful, not only to get sensitive information, but also to make officials look the other way, something that had become increasingly easy as of late. This one appeared to hold a high rank, and Ma-Nefer watched as the man addressed the guard, who was quick to halt his entry into Neti’s chambers. He watched them exchange words, with the newcomer holding something up, which caused the guard to nod and step aside, only to follow the man indoors. Ma-Nefer frowned at the action and wondered what it was that the man had held, and how it could gain such an easy entrance.

  * * *

  Neti was packing up for the evening and felt her spine stiffen when she heard footsteps in the outer chamber. For the past few days, she had suspected that someone was watching her. On more than one occasion, she had felt a tremor run up her spine and had since been thankful of Shabaka’s foresight to provide her with a guard, for it lent her some piece of mind. Even so, her heart pounded at the approaching footsteps.

  “Honorable Neti, there is a man here to see you,” Simbel said, on entry to her chamber. “He claims prefect Shabaka sent him.” Simbel turned to halt the man just within the doorway.

  Neti frowned at that and turned. Her heart dropped to her feet when she looked at the Nubian guard, and she visibly swallowed before asking, “What happened?”

  “Honored embalmer, the prefect Shabaka has sent me with this,” the man said, holding out a bracelet, one she would recognize anywhere.

  Neti stepped forward and took it from him, an unsettling sensation settled in the pit of her stomach, as she feared that he had gotten into another skirmish.

  “He requests that you join him on the west bank. There has been a murder in the pharaoh’s tomb.”

  Neti felt a wave of relief wash over her. However, it was short lived, “a murder?”

  “Yes, we beli
eve that one of the tomb scribes was murdered. I am to take you to Deir-el-Bahari in the morning.”

  The guard was about to step in and object, wanting to dispute the man’s claims, however, Neti stopped him with a gesture of her hand, “It is all right, Simbel, he speaks the truth.”

  “How do you know?”

  Neti held up the bracelet, “This is Moses’s bracelet. I told him that if he ever needed my help he should send this to me.” She then turned to the man before her, “We will leave in the morning. I just need to gather up a few things. Simbel you are to remain with Yani. I do not want her left on her own.”

  “I will guard with him this evening,” the Nubian guard said.

  “Simbel, why don’t you go to my house and tell Yani we have another guest for dinner.”

  The guard looked between Neti and the other man for a moment and then nodded on meeting her eyes.

  * * *

  Ma-Nefer watched as the guard exited the door and turned up the road. Impressed by the newcomer’s skill, he was just about to move from the alcove, when the guard himself appeared in the doorway, blocking it.

  Several moments later, a man sidled up to him, demanding, “What is a medjay doing here?”

  “Who?” Ma-Nefer asked, confused.

  “The medjay,” the man said, pointing to the doorway. “The guardians of the dead and the pharaoh’s interests. They never leave the west bank.”

  “He’s not one of you?” Ma-Nefer questioned, frustrated, for a moment considering that Shabaka could have already discovered their diversion and cursed the man for his insight.

  “You cannot turn a medjay. They are fiercely loyal to the pharaoh and the promise their king made, there is nothing you could offer them that could entice them,” the man with him professed.

  “So, what is he doing here?”

  “He has possibly been assigned to her. It certainly looks like it.”

  “The prefect does not have the authority for that!” Ma-Nefer seethed.

  “But a Nubian prince does,” the man countered.

  “There is no Nubian prince here,” Ma-Nefer threw back at him.

  “Where have you been? The entire city is talking about it.”

  “What?”

  “The Nubian prefect; he is the youngest son of the Nubian king.”

  “Interesting,” Ma-Nefer lowly said, his lips pulling into a malevolent sneer.

  4

  SHABAKA AGITATEDLY PACED THE PIER, halting at the end and gazing out over the river expanse, before again turning to pace its length. Moses watched his actions and sighed when he continued to pace. “Do you intend to wear out the pier?”

  Shabaka stopped and looked at him, before apprehensively replying, “They should have been here already. You’ve seen how dangerous a river crossing is at low tide.”

  “Would you rather have had us send her the body?”

  “That might have been better, safer,” Shabaka replied.

  “Well, it’s a bit late now,” Moses said, causing Shabaka to glare at him. “Here she comes,” Moses added, pointing to the river.

  Shabaka turned to look in the direction the Hebrew pointed and quickly searched the bark, visibly breathing a sigh of relief once he had distinguished Neti and the guard. His heart sped up as the bark neared the pier. A sense of serenity washed over him when the men cast the anchorage lines toward the pier, and the accompanying guards pulled the barge closer.

  Neti smiled and waved at them as they prepared the gangway, and, once in place, he watched while she and the guard gathered up several satchels.

  The guard stood aside and allowed her to precede him. “Morning, Shabaka, never a dull moment,” she cheerfully greeted on approach.

  “No,” he replied, and was a little put out when she stepped past him.

  “Morning, Moses,” she said, taking one of the satchels from her shoulder and handing it to him, “Yani sends this.”

  Moses took the satchel and quickly checked its contents before turning to thank her, only to notice that she was holding up his bracelet. He reached out to take it. “Thanks,” he said, smiling at her.

  “So what can you tell me about the body?” she asked, as they started along the pier, Shabaka and the guard following them.

  “Not much, he was found in the pharaoh’s tomb. He is a scribe specializing in detailing and was one of the right-side workers. No one knows of anyone who would wish him harm or would have any reason to want him dead.”

  “Where is the body?” Neti asked, as they stepped off the pier, and Moses guided her toward the chariots.”

  “It was sent to the Deir-el-Bahari.”

  “Chariots?” Neti asked, indicating the horses.

  “Trust me, we need them, everything is several royal cubits apart here,” Moses deadpanned.

  “I know, but I’ve never had to use a chariot to get there,” Neti countered.

  “It’s faster,” Moses said, “You’ll travel with Shabaka.”

  Neti nodded and halted next to one of the chariots. “Have you determined how he died?”

  “He was hit over the head with something. The line on the body you showed me was there, so he died in the tomb. His body was also stiff.”

  Neti nodded and replied, “Well done, I will speak to the high priest when we get there.”

  The guard placed the satchels he was carrying into the other chariot.

  “It’s getting late, we should start,” Shabaka said, having caught up.

  “We will follow you,” Moses said, as he got into a chariot with the guard.

  Neti turned from them and stepped into the chariot, her gaze again landing on the horses’ quarters. They were larger than the two horses Shabaka had in Thebes, not that she often accompanied him on the chariot. The flying debris kicked up by their hooves hurt when it struck, especially when they went fast, and she often thought that the horses were going to break free.

  “How was your crossing?” Shabaka asked, as he came to stand next to her, taking up the reins.

  “It was fine. The guard you sent was overly protective. He would not allow anyone near me.” Neti said, as the chariot started to move, with the horses calmly walking.

  “He had instructions to protect you. And as one of the pharaoh’s representatives, he would have taken the duty seriously,” Shabaka said, turning to look at Moses.

  “He stood outside my bedroom doorway the entire night. I’m certain he is tired this morning,” Neti said, also turning to look at the chariot behind them.

  “It comes with the duties,” Shabaka deadpanned.

  She saw Moses signal something with his hand, causing Shabaka to turn back. Neti smiled at him, the moment their eyes met, “His insistence reminded me of you.”

  “I’m certain his duties to you would have been the same as my own,” Shabaka said, his hands tightening on the reins.

  “You are so intense.”

  “Hold on,” Shabaka said, as he flicked the reins—a signal Neti was already familiar with, and she braced against the sudden jolt the chariot gave. Her hands tightly clasped the front cordon, as the horses picked up their pace.

  They traveled in silence for a while, with the horses maintaining a steady trot.

  Neti turned to look at him, loosening her grip some as she asked, “How is your arm?”

  “It is inconvenient, at times,” he flatly answered.

  “You need to be careful with it, so you don’t pull the stitches.”

  “That may be a bit late.”

  “What did you do?” Neti tensely demanded.

  “I haven’t opened it to check, but it bled when we arrived at the tomb yesterday.”

  “I will have a look at it later. I brought some ointment.”

  Shabaka just stared ahead, shifting his hands to guide the horses along the dusty path.

  Neti shook her head and turned to look at their surroundings. They had passed the temple of Seti I and had turned up the path toward Deir-el-Bahari. She could make out the temples of Tu
thmosis, Siptah and also the Ramesseum in the distance, however she knew that their path would not go past them. Further to the west lay the Valley of the Queens, and below that the city of Deir-el-Medina.

  Thoughtfully, she murmured, “It has been a while since I have traveled this way.”

  “You have come here before?” Shabaka asked in surprise.

  “Yes, with my father. We attended the gatherings at the Deir-el-Bahari. My papers had to be approved by the high priest, Bakenho.”

  “Those we found in the mayor’s home?”

  “The very same,” Neti replied looking toward the towering structure that came into view. “It’s always inspiring to return.”

  “It looks like it is part of the mountain,” Shabaka said.

  “You’ve never been here?” Neti asked, her brow furrowing, her voice conveying a note of disbelief.

  Shabaka shook his head, “Never got the opportunity. You know your way around?” Shabaka asked, turning to look at her.

  “Yes, continue along the line of sphinxes, then on through the pylons. It will take you into the first courtyard.”

  The path steadily inclined, while the audibility of the horses’ hoof-beats increased as they stepped onto the paved section of the road. The chariot stabilized, with both Neti and Shabaka leaning forward some as the road inclined. They passed through the inscribed pylons, the echoes of their passage doubled, and Neti looked back to see Moses and the guard not too far behind them.

  Shabaka halted the horses, jolting Neti, who turned to look at him in question, only to notice his gaze shifting over the courtyard.

  “How? So far from the river?” he asked in amazement.

  Neti smiled, “It is the garden court of Amun. The goddess built it as a tribute to her father. There are images of the marshlands on the far side wall.”

  Shabaka instructed the horses to proceed at a walk, as he looked about him at all the exotic plants. “There are plants here I have never even seen, not even in the pharaoh’s gardens.”

  “Many were brought into the region from conquered kingdoms,” Neti replied, while a breeze carrying an exotic scent enveloped them. “Most of the plants were chosen for their uniqueness and scent. It is peaceful here. Just follow the path.”