Eve of the Pharaoh: Historical Adventure and Mystery

by R. M. Schultz

  I swung the door back open. Maddie’s head lifted from her hands, her eyes popping wide.

  “One last thing,” I said, indulging on her curves. “There’s nothing else really, I just wanted to see you in your panties again.” Slamming the door closed, I wandered, looking for another bed.

  Journal Translation

  THE DOOR SWUNG OPEN AND blinding light again washed in. Grimacing, I held an arm over my face.

  A potbellied soldier entered. “Here to escort you back to your room. The palace is safe.” I no longer had a sidelock of hair for Mudads to pull on, so he grabbed my pale arm and helped me stand. Shuffling out into daylight, I squeezed my eyes shut. Red rays seeped through my closed eyelids, bringing a blinding sensation.

  Giggling from the other cell turned into a pleading wail, echoes thundering inside the cave. “No! Don’t leave us—” The man’s voices faded with the slamming of the door. Sympathy tugged at my heart. What would become of him? I could’ve become him. Was this a warning?

  A monarch butterfly thrashed around, ensnared within a web outside the corner of the doorway. Reaching up, I plucked the insect from the sticky strands. Mudads shoved me onward, but I peeled away the webbing. The butterfly flapped its mighty wings upon my open palm. Blowing, I sent the creature flying with the wind and into the blinding light.

  “You have to stay confined for a few more days, per Pentju’s orders,” Mudads drawled, guiding me into my old room. Drawings and wards were partially scrubbed from the walls. “Rest and prepare to serve your master. He’s been complaining about the quality of his servants. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he might even miss you.” Smirking, he stepped out.

  I shook my head in disbelief. No wonder I wasn’t burned. I understood Akhenaten’s needs better than anyone. Perhaps that should be enough for this life. Being good at something, even if I loathed it, would be much easier than my other options.

  Over the course of the day I grew agitated. Memories and emotions returned like fire on the empty desert, questions piling up. I couldn’t lay here waiting or I’d go mad again. No, I should heed Mahu’s advice and become the butterfly.

  Sunlight made my head ache but cleared the fog from my mind. Something within me desired the comfort of darkness. Removing the curtain from my window, a mountainous white cloud wavered across the sun. Father’s face appeared in the cloudbank but was veiled in shade. Touching his bracelet, my heart twinged with longing. Rebirth in the underworld would be his only salvation. Light streaked through the small opening of his eye, sparkling in the wind as it landed upon a bare tree. The tamarisk’s bark absorbed the glimmer like shadow. The dream faded …

  Rare rain washed over Memphis, clattering on the roofs and bringing a dank chill. Releasing the pungent tang of dry dirt, the moisture added to the feeling of suffocation.

  Croc didn’t visit, but he typically only showed up at night. And with the rain he wouldn’t want to travel. I couldn’t consider the other option. No, he wouldn’t have let Akhenaten catch him. Anguish and loneliness crept in as I fought off images of the horrendous possibilities.

  Darkness finally fell, but the inconceivable rain in the north this time of year continued. A small rock clattered onto my floor. I glanced about in surprise. Where did that come from? Another landed on my stomach. Wincing, my eyes were drawn to the open window. I jumped and caught the sill, hanging for a moment. Silence. Scampering up, I peeked out.

  The silhouette of a demure human cowered in the rain. “Get out here,” she whispered.

  Wiggling through the opening, I held onto the window’s edge with my feet and walked my hands down the wall. I released my toes, attempting to catch myself as the ground approached. Tumbling, I landed on my back with a splat.

  Someone grabbed my shoulder. I nearly screamed, my body trembling after the initial spasm.

  “It’s me.” Torchlight reflected off of Mutnedjmet’s drawn face and sopping hair.

  “Stop scaring me,” I whispered.

  “Sorry, did you want me to call out to you? By name, perhaps?” Her soft voice barely carried through the pattering rain. Something orange rested in her arms. “Follow me! I’ve seen Akhenaten and the cloaked man. They’re not the same person. The cloak’s headed into the city.”

  She grabbed me by my arm, and we ran into the night. My feet grew heavy with caking mud as anxiety set in. What was I doing? Mutnedjmet might have told Akhenaten to come check on me before my confinement. Could she be working with him in his dark plot? Perhaps she desired power, too. If Akhenaten didn’t have much to gain by killing Nefertiti, Mutnedjmet sure did. Nefertiti was her older sister, like Thutmose to my master. But what other option did I have to help Father and Nefertiti?

  “He held a knife made of gold and bone,” she said. “Unlike anything I’ve ever seen. And he carried a jar with some sort of creature inside.”

  Climbing the perimeter wall proved more treacherous in the rain. I slipped twice before ascending, and struggled to haul Mutnedjmet up.

  Pointing to the south, she said, “He was headed that way a few minutes ago.”

  A hush hovered over the city tonight. As we snuck into the maze, a couple curious faces peeked through open doorways, but no one stood outside. Had something happened, or was it the weather? And how could the cloaked man not be Akhenaten? Was I so blind in my hatred of my master that I only considered one suspect for this plague?

  “Strange things have happened these past weeks,” Mutnedjmet said as we hugged the shadows of a street. “I’ve been watching Akhenaten, but he’s always busy and is surrounded by people.” Extending her arms, she handed over my orange and white cat. “And Croc’s been following me everywhere. I have had to hide him.”

  Burying my face in my best friend’s warm fur, I squeezed. He meowed and leapt away. “Did you convince Pharaoh of Akhenaten’s treachery?” I asked.

  “Every day I tried to persuade Father and Aunt Tiye to talk to Pharaoh about it,” Mutnedjmet said, hanging her head. “The queen said she couldn’t deal with my antics, not after the death of Thutmose. Pharaoh is no longer lucid and won’t get out of bed, but the doctor says he has no signs of plague. I don’t know if he’s overcome with pain from the loss of his son, or if Akhenaten did something to him. But if so, why would Akhenaten keep him around at all?”

  I’d already pondered this during confinement. “Perhaps there’re too many guards around Pharaoh, or Akhenaten wants a time of co-regency. He probably needs to learn a few things and be accepted by the people. If there isn’t a smooth transition, his power may be questioned. It should’ve been Thutmose, and everyone knows it. Akhenaten pales in comparison.”

  “Sounds reasonable,” she said, dodging a street-swallowing puddle.

  “I can’t go back to serving the murderer of my father and abuser of Nefertiti …” My fists tremored with anger. “We need to help her.” Unable to hold back emotion any longer, tears brimmed in my eyes. But I masked my weakness by looking up into the rain.

  Placing her hand on mine, lines dug into Mutnedjmet’s soft forehead. “I’ll help anyway I can.”

  I wanted to believe her. Her touch comforted me, but there were so many unknowns—

  A cloaked form faded from the lamplight directly ahead, his back to us. Pausing with uncertainty, we maneuvered around the flame’s conspicuity and trailed the dark figure at a distance. We ventured deep into the bowels of the city, water pelting our backs. Collapsing mud-brick houses lined the streets ahead. Two men wobbled along in opposing directions, apparently unaware of us. One of these drunken men muttered slurred words to an unseen comrade while the other yelled into the night. The crying of babies carried out one window and mingled with the bellowing laughter of people across the street. A couple huddled together against a dilapidated house, trying to find shelter. The woman fell into a fit of coughing.

  Apprehension quickened my pulse. I’d never seen this district but knew we walked through the slums of Memphis.

  The cloaked figure sto
pped suddenly and staggered beneath a crumbling doorway.

  Skirting around two drunken men, we raced to the entrance. Mutnedjmet leaned around the corner, peeking inside.

  “Be careful,” I whispered and jumped for the window, peering over the sill.

  Inside, our suspect crouched, and an eerie green light glowed from within his robes. An elderly man and woman lay together on a bed of reeds, both asleep. The cloak opened like wings of a great bird. I froze in awe-struck terror.

  Journal Translation

  THE SUSPECT REMAINED CONCEALED by cloth, but a small form danced its way out from beneath the folds of the cloak.

  Was this thing a summoned demon or the carrier of the plague? It was too big to be a … wait, it was a very large scorpion! Its tail extended and retracted in a devilish dance. The biggest scorpion I’d ever seen, stretching the length of a man’s foot. Whirling about in a frenzy, it lowered its head and elevated its rear end while its legs spiked into the air in alternating form.

  The hooded man chanted and shook something around the room. Pulling out a sack, he dumped out the contents. Tangled serpents slithered, a mass of black and red scales. Hissing, their lengths separated into five distinct snakes. The resting occupants still didn’t stir. My terror amplified. Flashes of white darted up the jerking scorpion’s back. It was giving birth to live babies! The young arachnids twisted and squirmed beneath the mother’s protective tail, like eight-legged maggots. Prickling arose on the back of my neck as if bugs crawled on me. I shuddered in disgust. Mutnedjmet clasped a hand over her mouth, to stifle a scream as she fell to her rear.

  The woman rolled over in bed, and the cloaked man recited arcane language while drawing symbols in the air with hands hidden by his cloak. Incomprehensible words and intonations rose and fell. Fifteen or twenty offspring writhed on top of their mother and started to transform. Growing, they altered color from white to desert sand before developing a soft red hue, like the fading light of the Aten. They crowded each other out and spilled onto the floor as they aged weeks in a matter of seconds.

  Scurrying about with a strange crackling sound, the scorpions faced the sleeping pair. The cloaked figure’s hissing voice rose to a crescendo. Either the inhabitants couldn’t hear, or they lay paralyzed. The serpents advanced.

  The sleeping man and woman’s eyes shot open, horror sinking into their expressions. The woman’s lips parted but only muffled groans escaped, like someone trying to yell under water. Blood flowed from the man’s mouth, his jaw clenched. My face turned numb with disbelief and my stomach boiled with rage as I imagined my own father. I wouldn’t be able to stop this attack and survive, but I needed to see the conjurer’s face.

  Descending upon the prone couple with lashing tails and piercing fangs, scorpions and serpents covered them like hornets. The room fell silent. Uttering a short phrase, the cloaked figure commanded the swarm to scuttle toward the doorway. With the mother leading the way, the arachnids scaled the wall.

  The moisture drained from my mouth as my fingers trembled with fright. Was this the son of Hapu? The clicking of insect legs inched closer. I wanted to see the magician’s face, but couldn’t. “Hide!” I said, dropping to the ground.

  Already running into the shadows of an adjacent house, Mutnedjmet smeared her body against a wall. I followed.

  Watching the residence of the murdered, Croc sat and licked his paws in the middle of the street.

  Why would the cloaked man want to kill this couple in the slums?

  Scorpions clattered out into the night, followed by serpents. Then a dark figure emerged, holding a walking stick. Something bulged beneath his cloak. After scouting up the street, his attention shifted toward us.

  Swinging around the side of the house, we hunched down. The wind died, and the stubble on my arms stood straight up like a defeathered bird. I held my breath. But curiosity burned in my mind. I should take a peek—

  The cloak rustled past, not ten feet away. The air grew hot and the reek of death floated by. Crunching from his nearby footsteps caused my throat to squeeze shut with panic.

  He paused. My eyes locked on him. Sniffing, he paced off and disappeared into the falling rain. The insects scattered, but an eerie chanting arose from the shadows. Reforming into a pack, the scorpions crackled through a doorway across the street. Silence.

  My heart raced as I turned to Mutnedjmet. “What should we do?”

  “I-I don’t know,” she stuttered, her almond eyes gaping. “But we need to see who he is …”

  I stepped from the shadows, in pursuit.

  “What’re you doing out here?” someone asked.

  Mutnedjmet gasped as I spun around, crouching. Elegant features stood out from the slum’s shadows like the glistening Nile on the desert. A rain-soaked dress clung to a shapely body. Nefertiti!

  “I knew you were up to something, Sister,” Nefertiti said as she planted her hands on her hips. “I had to spy on you to see what kind of trouble you were getting into. And I find you with Horemheb, in the slums!” Her jaw tensed, green eye paint running down her cheeks.

  “Did you see the cloaked man?” Mutnedjmet asked. “The scorpions—”

  “Horemheb, Mutnedjmet’s been completely out of sorts,” Nefertiti said, glaring. “She sleeps during the day and has been spinning all sorts of crazy stories. She has a long history of starting drama with fiction.”

  “This is real!” Mutnedjmet said, stomping her foot.

  “Like when you saw crocodiles walk upright out of the Nile and attack people?” Nefertiti asked.

  “I told that story when I was a little kid.” Mutnedjmet grabbed a lock of her hair and started strumming it.

  “That was about a year ago,” Nefertiti said. “And Horemheb, what are you doing out here with my sister? Shouldn’t you be in isolation?”

  My face flushed as guilt rose inside me. I wanted to tell my love everything, but what if she didn’t believe me? “My father was murdered. And a hooded man is coming and going from the palace at night. We tracked him here and saw him use snakes and scorpions to kill people.”

  Nefertiti’s arms fell slack at her side. “Who is it?”

  “Akhenaten,” Mutnedjmet said. “Or at least he’s behind it.”

  “The hooded man wielded magic!” I said. “We were following him.”

  Wheels spun behind Nefertiti’s eyes. “If all three of us identify him, someone will listen.”

  I nodded and waved them on.

  “But,” Nefertiti said, holding up a hand, “we need to get you back to your room before dawn. I don’t know if you’re contagious and I hope you’re telling the truth, but you’re just a servant and can be executed before we know the facts.”

  I swallowed in fear. “The scorpion pack went into that house.” I pointed down the street. “The cloaked man disappeared in the same direction, but I didn’t see him go inside.”

  “I don’t think we can overpower such a man,” Nefertiti said. “Let’s just try to prove this is not a plague.”

  Edging around lamplight and through falling water, we approached the entrance. Nefertiti’s presence made my steps lighter. But I needed to act the part of a brave hero. If she could help me uncover Akhenaten’s treachery and have him exiled, it would be a crowning moment. She’d witness a power within me as I overthrew the traitorous king. Then she’d love me, and her father would accept me with open arms. Egypt’s savior.

  I waved the group on, and peeked into the house.

  Journal Translation

  IN THE PALE LIGHT SLINKING through the window, the hovel appeared abandoned. Only pieces of a table lay scattered about the small confines, covered with dust. Cool air brushed against my wide eyes. “No one’s here,” I said.

  “We saw them go in!” Mutnedjmet said. “Maybe they went out the back. Let’s see what they were doing.” She tugged at my kilt, and we inched our way inside.

  The air turned cold and humid, sending shivers through my body. Something lay on the floor at the far
end, covered by a blanket.

  “Be careful!” Nefertiti said in a hoarse whisper, tugging at my shoulder. “There’s something underneath.”

  I reached for a corner of the blanket. Markings were scrawled across the dirt floor.

  “Can you read this?” I asked.

  Nefertiti shook her head. “They say us girls don’t need to waste our time learning when all we’re meant to do is bear children.”

  “I’m sometimes able to sneak in and listen to my cousin’s classes,” Mutnedjmet whispered. “But I only know bits and pieces.” She examined the images. “I’m not sure, but it doesn’t look like typical writing. Maybe a symbol for ‘beware.’”

  Foreboding caused me to pause, but the girls waited for me to make a move. Easing the corner of the blanket aside with my toes, a cold bead of sweat trickled down my back.

  A pile of bug carcasses lay underneath. Curiosity pushed me to inspect them. “What would he be doing with locusts?” I asked, wrinkling my face in disgust.

  Mutnedjmet leaned down to grab one. Something rustled within the blanket. A black and red creature slithered out. Screaming, Mutnedjmet fell.

  The serpent rose up to look Mutnedjmet directly in her terror-stricken eyes. Trying to scoot away, she smacked her head against the wall. Wing-like structures emerged from the snake’s head. Croc hissed, his hackles rising. I flung a broken table leg at the reptile, but a stream of spit already flew from its mouth.

  Mutnedjmet wailed, collapsing against the toppled furniture as her hands covered her eyes. The serpent slithered off into a corner, and Croc stalked it. His hisses echoed off the walls. Spittle frothed on the bridge of Mutnedjmet’s nose, running toward her right eye. She screamed in agony.

  My heart pounded with angst. What could I do? Utilizing the edge of my kilt, I wiped the foam from her face.

  She shoved me away and howled, “I can’t see!”

  Struggling, we lifted Mutnedjmet and hauled her outside.