by Scott Peters
But if the scroll were found in his personal possession, it would all be over.
His thoughts shifted to the sailors. If this boat went back and forth often—ferrying workmen to the building site—could any of the sailors be involved in the kidnapping? If they were and they found the scroll, not only would the ruse be over, something worse could happen. He and Hui might end up as crocodile food.
Zet glanced around the deck.
The smell of oiled wood and the creak of the sail filled his senses. This boat was a foreign world. Ropes that lay coiled now probably wouldn't stay that way for long, so they wouldn't make a good hiding place.
Would any place be safe?
Butted up against the cabin lay a rowboat made of reeds all lashed together. The boat was upside down. Zet peered under it, and decided it wouldn't do. What if someone used it partway through the journey to ferry someone to shore? Or go fishing?
He moved on, and stopped next to a large wooden crate. Lifting the lid, the earthy smell of potatoes and onions rose to greet him. The box was heavily loaded. They'd only be on the boat until tomorrow. They'd never eat all these.
A glance told him the coast was clear. The center cabin blocked his view of the men. Still, he'd have to act fast. Heart pounding, he dug deep and fast, shoving potatoes and onions aside until he could see the crate's bottom. Zet thrust the scroll inside.
His fingers went to the front of his tunic where the Queen Mother's ring lay concealed. The chain felt like a noose around his neck. He began to remove it, but something stopped him. He couldn't shove something so holy in this crate.
Reluctantly, he let go, and then piled the vegetables over the scroll. Soon the leather tube disappeared from view, buried deep. Zet dropped the lid.
The sense of being watched made him jolt upright.
He peered both ways, but saw no one. Heart slamming, he stood. Not a soul in sight. He backed up and wiped sweat from his brow.
The boat rocked under his feet as he set off to find Hui.
The oars had been pulled in, and the oarsmen seats were empty. A steady breeze had caught the square sail, pulling it tight. The powerful ship leaned into the wind and picked up speed. Wood groaned and water churned alongside. The shores reeled past as the boat began its journey northward.
On the left riverbank he could see lush farms close to shore, bordered by desert and a backdrop of steep, rocky mountains. On the right bank, the city gleamed with sparkling monuments and crawled with people going about their business.
It felt refreshing to be detached from it all, flying north in a swift, modern ship.
Zet decided to forget the scroll and his worries and enjoy himself.
There was nothing he could do about the Princess's disappearance right now. Who knew when he'd get to relax again? Tomorrow they'd be landing at Abydos, and then the chase would be on.
Chapter Seven
A Familiar Face
Zet edged along deck past the cabin, holding the rail to keep steady. The ship's sway would take getting used to. He headed for the knot of construction workers. They were laughing—deep throated rumbles and guffaws.
Hui stood between the men, dwarfed by their size.
Hui turned and the workers did the same. Zet was pinpointed with a dozen stares. The men were all huge and scarred from work—and maybe fighting, too. Puckered burn marks ran down one man's muscled forearms. Another had poorly healed gashes. All had calloused hands with bruised, blackened fingernails. At least half looked to be the kind that turned from laughter to brawling at the first sign of offense.
"Zet, look who's here, can you believe it?"
Zet glanced at the man, but didn't recognize him.
"It's Jafar!" Hui said, "From the Kemet workshop. Jafar, this is my best friend, Zet."
The Kemet Workshop? Instantly, Zet went on alert. Thoughts of the events that had nearly killed Hui flashed through his mind.
"Nice to meet you," Zet said, feeling wary.
"Same." Jafar stuck out a thick hand and they shook. He was missing his little finger. His right eyelid drooped, which made him look like he was winking. But he wasn't, and probably never had. "A pal of Hui's is a pal of mine."
The circle closed around Zet.
"So . . ." Jafar said in a way that suggested he was sizing Zet up. "I hear you two are on a big job."
Inwardly, Zet winced. What was Hui telling them? He tried to keep his face neutral as he shot Hui a look.
"You know, working for the head architect," Hui said. "We're going to be pretty important."
"You couldn't make me give up my craft to be a runner," Jafar said with a snort.
Hui colored. "No," he said quietly. "Well, you take what you can get. Beggars can't be choosy."
Jafar nodded. "Now that's the truth, isn't it? I've been out of work since that whole cursed amulet business."
"Jafar was one of Kemet's master jewelers," Hui told Zet.
"You, my friend, weren't so bad yourself," Jafar said. "Yep. Kemet was worried some jealous apprentice would slit your throat in your sleep and kill his upcoming star! Turns out it was all pointless. We all ended up on the street, didn’t we?" He cracked his knuckles and grinned. "But things are looking up."
Zet frowned at the master jeweler. "I don't understand, you'll be making jewelry at the temple?"
The men all barked with laughter.
"No. Hinges and door handles, decorative ornamentation and the like," Jafar said.
"Oh. Right," Zet said, and laughed.
Jafar scratched his chin, then tapped Zet's chest with a thick finger. "You aren't that kid who helped the medjay, are you?"
Another man spoke up. "You sayin' this boy here works with the medjay?"
To Zet's horror, Hui gave a broad grin of acknowledgment, looking ridiculously proud and important. "My buddy Zet here, he's—"
"Way too dumb for something like that," Zet said with a weak laugh. "Me, work with the medjay? That's crazy. Right Hui?"
"Er, right."
Zet managed to pull Hui aside.
"By the gods, Hui, you almost gave us away!" he said.
Hui frowned. "What are you talking about? Don't worry. These men are friends."
"The only friends on this boat are you and me. Everyone else is either a suspect, or a potential danger."
"How? They weren't at the temple. How could they be suspects?"
"All right. Maybe not, but the sailors could be. And the Captain. They've been up and down the Nile ferrying workers."
"That grumpy old Captain, I wouldn't put it past him," Hui said. "Have you seen his smile? I think he's part crocodile."
At this, Zet broke out laughing. "Yes! I think you're right!"
Hui pointed toward shore. "Look at that!" Thebes was fading into the distance and an enormous stone structure had come into view. "The Karnak Temple complex."
The boys leaned on the rail, elbow to elbow, and watched it drift past. At their backs, the sun hung low in the sky. The sun god's slanting rays colored the Karnak temples and monuments with a wash of deep red.
The colossal structures gave way to tilled farmland. Hui settled down and opened his bag. He laid out various pieces of wood, including a bunch of small pegs and two long slats. On one slat, three mischievous faces had been carved in a row. With deft strokes of his knife, Hui began forming a fourth face. It was amazing to watch it appear out of nothing.
"My little brothers," Hui said, grinning as he worked.
"What are you making?"
"It's a lock," Hui said.
"A lock?" Zet had heard of locks, but had never actually seen one.
"It's for mother, for our front door. Look, I'll show you how it works."
The strange priest seated nearby inched closer. "Where did you learn this art?"
"At a jeweler's workshop," Hui said. Kneeling forward, he laid two long slats of wood on deck. Crosswise, he placed several small, duck-bone sized pegs. "These pegs will be the teeth inside, also known as tumblers, wh
ich will be inserted right here. To open the lock, a person will need a wooden rod, specially shaped to fit inside and lift the tumblers. It's very secure."
Despite his narrow, haughty face, the priest looked impressed.
Zet was. "Maybe you can make one for my stall, and I can lock up some of our pottery at night. Instead of just covering it with linen like we do now."
Hui nodded. "Done." His face colored. "If I do that, do you think Kat will forgive me?"
Chapter Eight
Playing With Fire
It was dusk when the Captain guided the boat toward shore. Rushes slid against the wooden hull. Sailors jumped out, splashing through the marshy shallows and then hauling on ropes until the boat came to rest against the soft sand. Stars had begun to wink overhead, and cool air settled on Zet's shoulders.
"Out 'o my way," a man grumbled at Zet, who'd been leaning protectively against the vegetable crate where he'd hidden the scroll.
Zet jumped aside, panic stricken when the man raised the lid. The man took out a load of potatoes and onions, let the lid slam down and made for land. Breathing a sigh of relief, he and Hui went onshore to find dinner. Zet, for one, was starving.
They pounded down the gangplank toward the fire flickering on the beach.
It was pitch dark by the time food was handed out. Bowls of hot stew and bread. Silence fell as everyone set to eating.
"It's really good," Zet said, after his first few pangs of hunger had been sated.
The cook looked up from his dinner and shot him a toothy grin.
"That it is," said the Captain, raising a thick slice of bread in a toast. "Here's to the cook who keeps my men from jumping ship."
"Hear, hear!" shouted the sailors with a roar of laughter.
In a low voice, Jafar said to Hui, "Ah, but the bread's not as good as our old baker friends', now is it?"
Zet caught a strange expression on Jafar's face. Again, he got that unsettling feeling about Hui's old workmate.
Hui sounded uncomfortable as he said, "Those bakers sure had a way with dough."
Jafar guffawed.
On the circle's far side, the Captain stoked the fire with a long branch. Sparks flew, crackling high into the night sky. The red, dancing flames threw shadows and light wavering over the scarred, dark faces of the men. Zet wondered what Kat would think of such a sight. She'd probably cower in terror. He grinned.
Feeling suddenly brave, he got to his feet.
Now was as good a time as any to question the Captain. Maybe the man knew something about Princess Merit's disappearance.
"Going somewhere?" Jafar asked.
Zet shrugged. "Just want to thank the Captain for his hospitality."
Jafar raised one brow.
Trying to look nonchalant, Zet made his way round the fire pit. The closer he got to the Captain, the weaker his legs felt. Get it together, he told himself. The Queen Mother hired him for a reason. It was time to start working.
The Captain stiffened as Zet approached. Between his bushy brows, the V-shaped crease deepened and the corners of his mouth turned down.
"I don't brook complaints after hours," he growled.
"I didn't come to complain, I wanted to say sorry for making you wait earlier. Thanks again." He nodded at the big vessel. "That's a really nice boat."
He grunted. "Best on the river."
"How does it compare to the royal barges?" Zet said.
"What kind of question is that?"
Zet raised his hands. "Just asking. I don't know much about boats."
The Captain's shoulders relaxed a little. "I've never been on a royal barge. But mine's the latest in shipbuilding."
It struck Zet that it must have cost a small fortune to build. Did he really make that much as a ferryman? "I guess you ferry a lot of people."
He nodded. "I do."
"Mostly to Abydos, then?"
"Right now, yes."
"How's it going up there?" Zet tried to lead the conversation around to the Princess. "Any trouble we should know about?"
The Captain's eyes narrowed. "What are you getting at?"
Zet shrugged. "They just hired us last minute. It seemed strange. I'm wondering what kind of work I’m headed for, that's all."
The Captain nodded, slowly. "I see. Want a piece of advice?"
Zet opened his mouth to answer, but paused at the look on the Captain's face.
"Stop asking questions," the Captain said.
"But I just—"
The Captain got to his feet, gripping his mug of beer in his meaty fist. "Kontar!"
The nearest sailor cracked his knuckles. "Problem, Captain?"
"There will be, Kontar, unless you take care of this kid."
"Gladly." Kontar grabbed Zet roughly by the neck and towed him away. "My Captain don't like you."
"I was only—"
"Shut it, kid."
Kontar's fingers tightened around Zet's throat. He shoved him along in front of him. The further they got from the fire, the more Zet started to panic.
"Let go," Zet managed, choking and trying to wrench free.
The man's circling grip narrowed like a rope being pulled tight. Zet couldn't believe it—this was crazy. Was the sailor strangling him?
"Stop!"
"I ain't done with you, yet."
Blackness crept around the edge of Zet's vision. He clawed at Kontar's fingers and arms. This was no joke. If Kontar didn't let go soon—
"Let 'im go," came Jafar's voice.
Kontar spun, keeping his hold on Zet. Jafar strode toward them with Hui sprinting alongside. Kontar's grip didn't loosen. Zet was losing consciousness.
"I said let 'im go," Jafar growled.
Kontar laughed. "Says who?"
"Says me and my brothers," Jafar snarled. "We stick together."
As if to prove it, two more construction workers moseyed toward them.
Kontar snorted. "I wasn't hurting the little brat. Just giving him a fright."
He boxed Zet's ear hard. Then Zet was stumbling free. His hands flew to his windpipe. He gasped, sucking in deep breaths. A fright? If Jafar hadn't shown up, Kontar could have killed him! For what? Asking questions?
Kontar hooked one thumb into his knife-belt. "Have a nice night," he sneered, nodding at Zet.
Zet knew then that the danger wasn't over—just postponed. He kept his face blank, hiding his fear, but knew he'd made a dangerous enemy. Why? What were they up to?
When Kontar left, Jafar fastened his drooping eye on Zet. "What's going on?"
"Nothing," Zet said, too quickly.
"Brothers don't keep secrets," Jafar said in a menacing voice.
"No secrets here," Zet lied, rubbing his throat.
"Look at his face," Hui said, grinning. "You think he has a secret worth keeping? Zet? Most boring kid around. He'd be nowhere without me."
"Er . . . Right," Zet said, deciding Hui was laying it on a bit thick.
Jafar laughed, but his droopy eye wasn't smiling. Studying Zet's face, he grunted.
As they made their way on ship, Zet felt the weight of the mystery looming over him, dark and horribly complicated. He needed to know more about Kontar and the Captain. But how?
He felt like an idiot for accepting the Queen Mother's request. He'd been all puffed up with pride. Sure he'd solved a crime or two before, but he'd been lucky. It was easy to solve crimes back home where he knew people, knew the streets, and knew the medjay. Here, he knew no one.
Except Hui, of course.
A glance at his best friend lifted Zet's spirits. He wasn't alone. Thank the gods he had Hui along. Still, they couldn't talk with Jafar between them.
Until they could talk, he'd just have to puzzle things out on his own. Questions ran through his mind. What had made the Captain and Kontar so angry? What were they hiding? He ran a hand over his throat. There was something shifty going on.
And what about this expensive boat?
How had the Captain paid for it? With Hyksos bri
bes?
Still, if the Captain was the kidnapper, where would he be hiding the Princess?
Chapter Nine
Northward
Zet, Hui and Jafar had only been on board several moments when raucous voices filled the air. Both craftsmen and sailors were returning. Their footsteps shook the gangway and the boat rocked under their weight.
Hui sat in the prow. "Do you think Kat's still mad at me?"
"Are we back on that subject?" Zet smothered a grin. Hui looked miserable and Zet's heart went out to him.
"It's not funny," Hui said in a glum voice. "Just wait until you like a girl. Then we'll see who's laughing."
"Ha! After watching you two, I probably never will."
Jafar belched and rubbed his belly. "Girls are trouble."
The rest of the construction crew joined them on the forward deck. Zet suddenly felt glad of their presence. At least with them nearby, Kontar would have a hard time getting Zet and Hui alone.
"I'm beat," Jafar announced. He made for the overturned rowboat, raised it with his four-fingered right hand and peered underneath. "Looks like I found a bedroom."
Zet said a silent prayer of thanks that he hadn't hidden the scroll there.
Meanwhile, the other workmen staked out spots against the bulwarks and the Captain's cabin wall. The air had grown chill. Blankets were tugged out of packs. Zet found the neatly folded cover his mother had provided. It smelled of home—of his mother's soap. He held it tight around him and lay down with his back to the crate that hid the scroll. Despite his worries, he soon slipped off into a deep, dreamless sleep.
The sound of gently lapping water woke him.
Grey dawn stretched overhead. He stared up at the sky. This wasn't his rooftop. He frowned, momentarily confused. His neck hurt.
Then it all came rushing back. The Queen Mother's visit, the boat, the run-in with the Captain and Kontar. He sat up and touched his throat. It felt sore and tender. Around him the construction workers snored away.
