Egyptian Enigma

by LJM Owen

  She agreed with Seben that the appearance window opened Seti to the risk of assassination by an archer. She would have preferred one of Khemet’s high priests to present the awards in his stead. However, Pharaoh insisted.

  Tausret’s attempt to restore her inner balance was interrupted by a heated debate nearby between her three top administrators.

  ‘It is a crime that warrants the death penalty,’ Physician Seben was saying.

  ‘I fail to see how such a matter could possibly warrant the execution of a foreign dignitary,’ Chancellor Bay argued. ‘It opens Khemet to a retaliatory attack by his government.’

  The presence of Chancellor Bay, a Canaanite bureau­crat and ‘donor’ of his sister to Tausret’s father as a concubine – which meant he was Siptah’s uncle – caused Tausret’s ka to contract.

  ‘Of course you don’t,’ Seben spat. ‘You’re not of Khemet. Your people treat women as servants – even less, as property.’

  Bay sniffed.

  ‘Under the laws of this country, if proven, the crime carries an automatic death penalty,’ Vizier Hori recited.

  ‘Exactly,’ Bay said. ‘It is the word of a slave against that of a high-ranking official – it’s hardly proven. Khemet can’t afford war on yet another front over the whinings of a lying girl.’

  ‘The woman is not a slave.’ Seben’s face reddened. ‘She is a businesswoman, a wet nurse who contracted herself to the dignitary’s wife. Even that is irrelevant – the word of a woman of Khemet carries more weight than that of a foreign man.’

  ‘Where I come from, there must be at least two male witnesses to vow the incident was not welcomed by the woman,’ Bay said.

  Tausret wondered that Bay did not seem to compre­hend Seben’s meaning – or if he did, he was enjoying provoking her.

  ‘How terribly inconvenient for the women of your country that so few rapists take the time to attack women in front of groups of honest men,’ Seben bit back.

  Tausret felt a twinge of concern that her physician might punch Bay’s loathsome face: it would be incon­venient to have to reduce Seben’s involvement at court as a consequence of a physical altercation in the throne room. Thankfully, a commotion at the door distracted all parties.

  Ten Medjay stormed from the sides of the throne room to block the entrance, swords raised, as a handful flew to Tausret’s side and joined their shields protectively around her.

  Desperate-sounding whispers reached Tausret’s ears. By the goddess Sekhmet, what was going on?

  A single servant, ashen-faced and trembling, was permitted entry.

  Tausret recognised him as the master of Seti’s make-up. He approached Tausret’s chair hesitantly, then threw himself at her feet as the Medjay around her watched him warily.

  ‘Mighty Lady.’

  Tausret’s ka contracted. She knew his words as they rose to his throat.

  ‘Pharaoh,’ he choked. ‘Pharaoh…’

  Tausret pressed the knuckles of one hand hard against her lips, determined not to cry out. There would be time enough to mourn Seti later. For now, she had to implement her and Seti’s contingency plan. In the event of assassination they had agreed that Tausret must retain power or the brawling grandsons of Ramesses the Second would tear Khemet apart in their struggle for dominance.

  Seben had knelt in front of Tausret. ‘My Lady, your instructions?’ she said quietly, her voice full of compassion. Tausret held out her hand in pause.

  Tausret needed to place her little half-brother, Siptah, on the throne immediately, and announce herself as his regent. While the priesthood would welcome him as Pharaoh, because they would see him as easy to control, they would fight against Tausret’s regency.

  Her eyes flicked to Bay. To her distaste, she and Seti had agreed that her best chance of swaying the priesthood was for Chancellor Bay to influence them in her direction. Thankfully, Siptah was Bay’s nephew. Tausret could appeal to Bay’s sense of importance, emphasise his close relationship to Pharaoh, and offer him a tomb in the Great Field in exchange for backing her. Bay’s greed should do the rest.

  Tausret beckoned Vizier Hori to her side and whispered her directives.

  ‘Let the proclamation go forth,’ Hori’s voice boomed. ‘The falcon is flown to heaven and Siptah is arisen in his place. Prepare his Tomb in the Great and Majestic Necropolis of the Millions of Years of the Pharaoh, Life, Strength and Health in the West of Waset.’

  Breathing as deeply as her lungs allowed, Tausret set her ka and her ba on an unwavering course: by the grace of Ma’at, she would become Pharaoh in all but name and protect her people from drought and the machinations of her own family.

  Chapter Two

  Now

  Canberra, Australia

  The plane’s wing dipped lower, affording Elizabeth a bird’s eye view of the swath of eucalypts that formed a blue-grey-green canopy over Canberra, Australia’s ‘Bush Capital’. She had been reluctant to leave Egypt, yet her heart lifted at the sight of her home city sheltering beneath the trees.

  She pressed her forehead to the window to stare at the monuments peeking through the bush. Her eye was drawn to the snaking expanse of Lake Burley Griffin at Canberra’s centre, its shores decorated with the stark white columns of the Mahony Griffin Library, the enormous orange metal helix in front of the new Cochrane Smith Museum, and the red-brick rectangles and multi-storey concrete buildings of the university campus.

  As the pilot swung the plane around for approach, she spotted Black Mountain Tower’s white spire. At the end of every journey, her first sight of the blinking red light at the top always meant that she was home. She closed her eyes and pushed back in her seat, waiting for the jar and bounce of landing.

  A little later, hobbling down the walkway inside the terminal, Elizabeth glimpsed a shock of red curly hair and a bright silver bun among the crowd. Then, in a flurry of embracing arms, she was being greeted by her sister Sam, Grandmère Maddie, her brother Matty and her grandfather Taid. She patted the top of Taid’s bald head fondly as he bent to pick up her carry-on bag.

  Standing a little way from the Pimms cluster, Mai, Elizabeth’s newly discovered older sister, stood with their other grandmother, Nainai Cho. Elizabeth was struck again by how similar they were – Nainai was an aged version of Mai.

  ‘What happened to your foot?’ Mai asked.

  Elizabeth glanced down at her ankle and grimaced. ‘It’s a long story.’

  ‘Time enough for stories later,’ Grandmère said. ‘We have the parking to pay for and it is expensive.’

  As she turned to limp the interminable distance to the baggage carousel, Elizabeth noticed Matty staring at her expectantly. Then she realised why – for the first time since he was four years old, her little brother was walking unaided. ‘You don’t have your crutches!’

  Matty beamed at her. ‘I worked really hard while you were away. I wanted to surprise you.’

  The growth plates in Matty’s hips had been damaged in the same car accident that had taken their mother. Despite years of surgeries and physical therapy, Elizabeth had never expected to see him walk on his own again. She roughed up his blonde curls. ‘You have! Awesome effort.’

  ‘My legs feel a bit shaky, though, so I’m going back to the car now.’

  ‘I’ll go with you,’ Sam said, holding out her hand to Grandmère for the keys. ‘See you soon.’ She smiled at Elizabeth.

  ‘Is your ankle hurting?’ Mai said.

  ‘Throbbing,’ Elizabeth admitted. ‘I’d like to lie down as soon as possible.’

  ‘Your bag was a large green one with hieroglyphics all over it?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why don’t I go and get it for you? Everyone else can wait here.’

  Assuming Mai needed a short break from her new family, Elizabeth nodded gratefully.

  ‘How is she doing?’ she a
sked her grandparents, as Mai walked away.

  ‘As well as can be expected, I believe,’ Nainai said, smoothing down the back of Elizabeth’s crumpled shirt. ‘After feeling alone for so long, she’s struggling to adjust to so many people in her life, but we’ll keep including her until she feels part of the family.’

  ‘Good.’

  One extortionate parking fee later, the family left the airport to head home along the wide, vacant roads of the nation’s capital, gliding west through the open countryside around the airport to the suburbs near the centre of the Australian Capital Territory. Elizabeth groped in her backpack for her sunglasses: the light was somehow harsher than that of Egypt. She sat back and let the burble of her family’s conversations and the car’s cool air-conditioning wash over her, as they whizzed past one long avenue of brilliantly green oak trees after another…

  The crunch of car tyres on gravel cut into a dream of flying over the Pyramids.

  ‘Wakey, wakey,’ Matty said.

  In a daze, Elizabeth climbed out of the car in front of the enormous yellow and white weatherboard house and shuffled into the downstairs foyer. The moment she stood still she was mobbed by felines. Loki and Paris, the twin furry criminals, threw themselves against her legs. Tiny Seshet sat on the bottom stair miaowing her welcome. And Elizabeth’s own cat, Thoth, climbed halfway up the stairwell and sat with her back firmly to her human.

  ‘Kitty, kitty,’ Elizabeth coaxed.

  Thoth began, rather pointedly, to wash a forepaw.

  ‘She missed you so much,’ Matty said, reaching for the crutches he had left by the front door. ‘She sat on your bed and called for you every night for a week. I had to bribe her to come to my room.’

  Bed. That sounded good. ‘Maybe I should make it up to her now. I wish I could stay up and chat, but I’m out on my feet. Thank you all so much for coming to meet me at the airport, but I’d like to get some sleep now and see you in the morning. Would you mind?’

  ‘Oui,’ Grandmère said. ‘I see how tired you are. Set the alarm for ten, please. Nainai Cho’s special day begins at eleven sharp.’

  ‘Yes, Grandmère.’ Swaying up the stairs, Elizabeth paused long enough to turn and grin at her family below. ‘It’s great to be home.’

  After changing clumsily into a pair of cotton bookshelf-covered pyjamas, Elizabeth fell backwards onto her bed in a starfish shape. She was snoring before the last of the cats had settled next to her.

  —

  Elizabeth started awake from dreams of Egyptian gods, fumbling for the bedside alarm. Groping for her glasses, she wondered hazily what the enormous mound of white fur protruding from her armpit was. Poking it elicited an inquisitive rrrrrrrt. It was Thoth’s belly. Elizabeth smiled. It was nice to be ensconced in cattage again.

  Swinging her legs out of bed, she tried standing up. No go. Her head spinning, she lay down again. Perhaps if she closed her eyes for a few moments the dizziness would stop…

  Thoth clawed gently at Elizabeth’s forearm. Her eyes flew open. She glanced at the clock – half past ten!

  Dazed with tiredness, she sucked in a deep breath and told herself to get up. She could sleep again in a few hours. And she would need to. Not only was she due back at work tomorrow, but in just three days she would begin her new second job as an archaeology tutor at the university. She would need as much rest between now and then as she could get.

  Yawning all the way, Elizabeth showered and dressed, rebandaged her ankle, then descended the stairs while holding on to the railing with one hand. The wafts of deliciousness rising from the kitchen told her that the entire household, apart from herself and her furry vanguard, had probably been up for hours clean­ing, nibbling pomelo segments, and assisting Nainaiin her preparations for the Pimms Chinese New Year feast.

  ‘Lizbet?’ Grandmère called from the kitchen.

  How did Grandmère always know where everyone was? It wasn’t as though Elizabeth made any noise as she walked. ‘Yes?’

  ‘Please take a seat. We will be there shortly.’

  Elizabeth gasped as she walked into the con­servatory. Bright morning sun shone through row upon row of red and gold Chinese lanterns tied to the rafters, casting soft pink stripes of light across the black and white chequered floor. The extra-long table was resplendent with intricately decorated china, colourful carved vegetables and stunning flower arrangements on a white linen cloth. A small red packet labelled with golden Chinese characters lay on each place setting. Elizabeth loved seeing the time, care and effort Nainai put into her favourite day of the year.

  The epicurean onslaught began at eleven o’clock sharp. Nainai, dressed in a gleaming red and gold robe embroidered with dragons and phoenixes, delivered an array of tiny entrées: freshly made shallot jiǎozi – thin-skinned dumplings containing a lucky coin; spring rolls; Peking duck pancakes; and perfectly circular crisp lettuce cups with a luscious black mushroom, carrot and celery filling.

  Biting into a spring roll, shattering pastry flakes all down her front, Elizabeth exclaimed, ‘This is wonder­ful, Nainai!’

  Nainai looked pleased. ‘Mai did a lovely job of folding the pastry, don’t you agree?’

  ‘Yes, it’s so neat.’

  Elizabeth’s older sister looked uncomfortable. ‘Thanks,’ she said brusquely.

  Wondering how to help her feel more comfortable with accepting compliments, Elizabeth brushed the crumbs away, prompting a tsk from Grandmère. As she blew on the spring roll’s steaming pork and prawn filling, she glanced around the room and caught a fleeting frown on Sam’s face. She raised one eyebrow quizzically. Sam shook her head slightly to indicate she didn’t want to discuss whatever was bothering her.

  ‘So, Egypt,’ Taid said. ‘Tell us all, Beth bach!’

  ‘How did you hurt your ankle?’ Matty added, drips of soy and chilli sauce already decorating the front of his light blue T-shirt.

  Elizabeth recounted finding a thief in her and Henry’s room in Cairo, then the ensuing chase.

  ‘Cool! What did they steal?’ Matty asked.

  Elizabeth looked at Sam. ‘I’m so sorry, it was your Christmas gift to me.’

  ‘The journal?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why would someone steal that?’

  Elizabeth shook her head. ‘I wish I knew.’’

  Sam toyed with her own spring roll, a delectable carrot and cabbage version. ‘I think I know where we can get you another.’

  ‘I’d like that.’ Elizabeth smiled apologetically. ‘I feel awful that, out of everything in my room, that’s what was taken.’

  ‘I don’t like that you chased the assailant, Beth,’ Taid said. ‘You should have used more caution.’

  He had managed to splash jiǎozi juice across his glasses, but apparently hadn’t noticed. Elizabeth reached out and unhooked them carefully from his ears, then cleaned them on her napkin. ‘It’s okay, Taid, I didn’t do anything silly.’ Well, not too silly anyway.

  ‘What about the archaeological sites?’ Mai asked quietly, pushing the fingers of one hand through her black and purple bob. ‘Which ones did you see?’

  Elizabeth sank back into her time in Egypt. ‘Just about all of them! We started by sailing along the Nile, gliding beneath these long, narrow lines of date palms. We explored all the sites along the river between Luxor and Abu Simbel.’

  ‘I’ve heard of Abu Simbel. What was it like?’

  ‘Magical. Our boat was surrounded by this cloud of feluccas as we sailed toward Cataract Gorge. Then there was a bumpy bus ride and, suddenly, we were standing at the foot of gigantic pink granite statues of Ramesses the Second and his first Chief Great Royal Wife, Nefertari. They were simply enormous! It’s hard to explain the scale of them without seeing them in person.’

  Elizabeth didn’t add that, at the urging of her new inner voice, while she was at Abu Simbel she had a
lso visited the room in the nearby Cataract Hotel where Death on the Nile was allegedly penned.

  ‘It sounds as though it was all wonderful,’ Grandmère Maddie commented with a smile as she rose to clear the table.

  Elizabeth noticed that, having crunched on their own celebratory feast of prawn heads, the cats had positioned themselves in the conservatory’s cane chairs to commence a thorough lick-wash cycle.

  As noon approached, Nainai asked Sam and Mai to ferry in the first set of main dishes: citrusy sweet-and-sour pork with pineapple; succulent white sliced chicken with salty soy dipping sauce; along with lion’s head meatballs; tea eggs; turnip cake; and a flowering chives stir-fry. Nainai was careful each year to cultivate her chives so that they flowered a week before Chinese New Year – quite a feat, given the movable date of the feast.

  Elizabeth was careful to take just one or two bites of each dish to avoid a stomach ache later in the day.

  ‘Did you climb inside the Great Pyramid like you wanted to?’ Sam asked.

  ‘Yes, but the camel ride to get there didn’t go smooth­ly.’ Elizabeth squirmed in her chair at the memory of her sore rump.

  Matty chortled as she described her and Henry’s chaotic gallop toward the glowing limestone apex of the Great Pyramid. She was glad she hadn’t broken anything in that jolting, teeth-jarring ride.

  She peered closely at Matty. ‘You’re looking really well, quite strong. It’s amazing what you did yesterday, walking all that way without your crutches.’

  ‘I know! My doctors even said that by the end of the year I might need only a cane, and I have an exercise plan to get there.’

  ‘High five!’

  ‘And are you still an excited Pan cocinarensis?’ A cooking chimpanzee, one of Elizabeth’s nicknames for humans. ‘All set for your cheffing courses this year?’

  Matty’s face clouded briefly. ‘Sure.’

  Elizabeth wondered what had diminished his enthusiasm for his chosen profession, and decided to find out later from their grandparents.

  Nainai returned to the kitchen to ceremoniously convey the most important part of the meal to the table: a whole steamed fish. Each person, other than Sam, carefully teased one mouthful of flesh from its bones, ensuring they left half the dish for the following day.