Great-uncle Sisyphus’ eyes twinkled, as if he knew what she was thinking about. “I’m sure you have nothing to worry about. But, back to the judgement. Once the dead woman had declared all this, her heart was weighed against the Feather of Truth. You can see that happening in the picture. The heart must be lighter than the feather, if she is to pass. The weighing is being done by Anubis, the jackal-headed god of embalming and necropolises. Thoth, the god with the head of an ibis, is standing ready to record the result. Thoth is the god of writing, and the scribe of the gods.”
“What happened if the heart was heavier than the Feather of Truth?” Hattie asked. She remembered the picture of the monster and had a nasty feeling she knew the answer.
Great-uncle Sisyphus looked grave. “Nothing good. The monster you see there is the Devourer of Souls. Part lion, part crocodile, part hippopotamus. It’s waiting to devour the heart – and the dead woman’s soul – if she doesn’t pass. Then she would truly die forever.”
“Oh.” Hattie had been right. She shivered. “But if she passes?”
“Then she is led by the falcon-headed god Horus to be presented to Osiris, and she will pass on to live forever in the afterworld.”
Hattie sighed with relief. “She’s safe then?”
“Yes. With a few conditions. Her body has to be preserved, that’s why she was mummified, you see. Or a statue or a painting of her has to survive in the world of the living.”
“For always?”
“Yes, for always.”
They pored over the pages, Great-uncle Sisyphus pointing out interesting features about the pictures of the gods and goddesses and answering Hattie’s eager questions. “They seem to have had a great many gods,” observed Hattie at last.
Great-uncle Sisyphus turned the pages of his great book. “There are many, many other Egyptian gods and goddesses. We’ll look at them in another lesson. But here are pictures of just a few you might be interested in.”
Hattie leaned over to look. “There’s one like a cow!”
“Yes, that’s Hathor. She was the goddess of beauty, music and laughter.”
Hattie turned the page. “She sounds like fun. But look, this one’s like a strange little dwarf.”
“His name is Bes. Quite ugly, isn’t he?” agreed Great-uncle Sisyphus. “And yet he was one of the most popular gods of ancient Egypt. He protected women and children, especially during childbirth. He scared off evil spirits by dancing and shouting, and then he stayed around to look after the babies. It was believed that if a baby laughed or smiled for no reason, it was because Bes was pulling funny faces at it.”
Hattie liked the idea of that. “Did other gods protect people?” she asked.
“In a way. This crocodile-headed god is Sobek, a god of the Nile. Wearing an amulet shaped like Sobek was believed to protect people from the dangers of the Nile, like drowning or being eaten by a crocodile. As was wearing an amulet shaped like Tawaret, the hippopotamus-headed goddess.”
“Really?” Hattie had a sudden idea. “Do you think –” she began.
“Do I think what?”
“Well, if wearing an amulet of Sobek or Tawaret would protect you from crocodiles or hippopotamuses, maybe you should give amulets like that to the postmen who have to come here?”
Hattie stopped. Great-uncle Sisyphus was staring at her.
“I mean, you might get more letters that way,” explained Hattie.
“My, my. What a very interesting idea. I certainly think we could do that,” Great-uncle Sisyphus said.
But Hattie’s attention had been caught by another page. “Look!” she exclaimed. “This goddess with the head of a cat! She looks just like Sekhmet!”
“She does. But in fact, it’s Bastet. She’s the goddess of home and hearth and prosperity, and she also is a guardian of pregnant women,” said Great-uncle Sisyphus. He turned another page. “Here is the goddess Sekhmet. She has the head of a lion. You can easily tell the difference between them, however, by the shape of their ears. Bastet, the cat, has pointed ears. Sekhmet, the lioness, has rounded ears. Sekhmet was the goddess of war and battle; another of her names is The Powerful One. There’s a connection between Bastet and Sekhmet. Bastet becomes Sekhmet when action is needed to protect her children from enemies.”
At that moment the door swung open, and Sekhmet walked into the room. She glanced meaningfully at the clock on the wall. Great-uncle Sisyphus and Hattie followed her gaze.
“Is that really the time?” Great-uncle Sisyphus exclaimed. “Tea, Hattie! We’re late for tea! We’ll be down directly, Sekhmet. Hattie, you must be very hungry. We’ve been working for hours.”
Hattie felt that it hadn’t been work at all. “But it’s all so interesting!” she said.
Sekhmet looked at her, purred approvingly, and walked out of the room. Hattie watched her go.
“Great-uncle Sisyphus,” she said, “you know how you said that the difference between Bastet and Sekhmet was their ears?”
“Yes, indeed, so I did.”
“But Sekhmet, our Sekhmet, has pointed ears, like Bastet, like a cat. Yet she’s called Sekhmet. Why didn’t you name her Bastet?”
Great-uncle Sisyphus looked surprised. “Name her? Why, no one has ever named Sekhmet. It’s her name, it’s always been her name.”
“So you mean you didn’t name her when you got her?”
“I don’t think you quite understand, Hattie. I certainly didn’t get Sekhmet, as you put it. No indeed. Sekhmet has always been here at Crumblin Castle. I remember her being here when I was very young, as far back as I can recall. And I’m sure she was here long before that.”
“How did she come to be here, then?”
Great-uncle Sisyphus considered. “I remember a sort of story, a family legend, saying she came back from Egypt with a long-ago Lambton. There was a suggestion that he had performed some kind of service for her, and she bound herself to him in gratitude.”
“But if she was a goddess, an Egyptian goddess, why would she want to serve anyone?”
“Ah,” Great-uncle Sisyphus sighed, “but what use would it be to be an ancient Egyptian goddess now? There would be no one who would worship her. No one to come to her temple. No one bringing her offerings. It could be rather a sad, lonely thing to be an Egyptian goddess, in an empty, ruined temple. I am only guessing, of course.”
Hattie thought about that. “And the kittens?”
“The kittens are part of her. Bastet is often represented with kittens playing and tumbling about her feet.”
“So the kittens have always been here too?”
Great-uncle Sisyphus nodded. “The kittens too.”
“So you mean Sekhmet never gets older. And the kittens never grow up. Don’t you think that’s . . .” Hattie paused. She didn’t want to seem disbelieving. “Well, don’t you think that’s odd? Haven’t you ever asked her about it?”
Great-uncle Sisyphus regarded Hattie gravely. “Sekhmet is Sekhmet. I would never presume to question her. I suggest you do not, either.”
Hattie felt she had been gently warned. There were a lot of mysterious things about Crumblin Castle that she would like to ask questions about. But Sekhmet, it seemed, definitely wasn’t to be one of them.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she said.
After a few weeks, Hattie had learned a great deal about ancient Egypt. She had also started on Latin and Greek. Arithmetic was not being neglected, either. In fact, Great-uncle Sisyphus was spending so much of his time on Hattie’s education that his own translation work was seriously behind schedule. He said nothing about it, but Hattie knew that meant that much less money was coming into Crumblin Castle. Which was, she noted, crumbling more by the day.
It was a relief, therefore, when Edgar Raven announced at dinner one night that they had received a very prestigious request for Great-aunt Iphigenia to perform a mummy unwrapping. “Excellent. Truly excellent,” he said, holding up an embossed envelope. “From a member of the peerage, no less.”<
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“Is that better than other unwrappings?” asked Hattie.
“Why, of course,” answered Edwina Raven.
“Why?” asked Hattie.
Edwina Raven huffed impatiently. “Because the guests at this party will be prominent, influential people,” she explained. “If they are interested, they may want to have similar parties. And if having mummy unwrappings becomes the fashionable thing to do among their set, there will be much more work for Miss Lambton. And therefore increased income. You see?”
Hattie nodded. It made sense.
“The letter also contains a draft of the invitation,” said Edgar Raven. “It’s very artistic.”
“May I see the invitation?” Hattie asked Great-aunt Iphigenia.
Edgar Raven’s fingers tightened on the envelope, but at Great-aunt Iphigenia’s nod he reluctantly passed it over. “Be very careful with it,” he said.
Hattie wondered if she should pretend to drop it in the gravy, just to annoy him, but she took it carefully. “Of course I will,” she said. She drew the draft invitation out of the envelope. It was a heavy cream card, printed in black, with a drawing of a mummy case at the bottom of the page. It read:
Hattie studied the invitation. She frowned. She looked again. “But –” she said.
“But what?” Edgar Raven did not appear pleased that Hattie had something to say about it.
“But it doesn’t say who’s doing the unwrapping,” Hattie pointed out. “It doesn’t have Great-aunt Iphigenia’s name on it.”
The Ravens glanced at each other. Edgar Raven took the invitation – some might say snatched, Hattie thought – from Hattie’s hand, and stared at it.
“Nor it does,” he said at last.
“An oversight, I’m sure,” said Edwina Raven.
“It’s just that if you want the prominent, influential guests to have other parties, it’d be better if Great-aunt Iphigenia’s name was included, so they’d remember it,” said Hattie.
“Quite right,” said Great-uncle Sisyphus. “The child’s quite right, you know.”
“And it should say Great-aunt Iphigenia is a famous Egyptologist, too,” added Hattie.
The Ravens looked at her with immense dislike. “We will see that it does,” said Edgar Raven through clenched teeth. “Thank you for your excellent and helpful suggestion, Hatshepsut.”
Hattie hardly noticed the Ravens’ displeasure with her. She’d just had an idea.
“Could I –” She turned to Great-aunt Iphigenia. “I mean, I’d really like to see a mummy unwrapping! Could I go too? To the party?”
“Well . . .” said Great-aunt Iphigenia.
“Hardly the place for a child,” said Edgar Raven. “Most unsuitable.”
“A party of wealthy and influential people. Members of the peerage! A child would surely be a disruptive presence,” said Edwina Raven.
Great-aunt Iphigenia raised her eyebrows slightly at them. “I’m sure Hattie knows how to behave in company,” she said. She turned to Great-uncle Sisyphus. “What do you think, Sisyphus?”
Great-uncle Sisyphus peered at the Ravens under his eyebrows. “I think it would be of great benefit to Hattie’s education,” he said. “And considering she has made some very valuable suggestions here this evening, I think it only reasonable to grant her request.”
“I quite agree,” said Great-aunt Iphigenia. “Yes, Hattie, you may certainly attend.”
The Ravens glowered.
Hattie kept her eyes lowered. It wouldn’t do to look too triumphant in front of the Ravens. They disliked her enough as it was.
“Thank you, Great-aunt Iphigenia,” she said demurely. “Thank you! I’m so looking forward to it!”
On the day of the mummy unwrapping party, a carriage came to Crumblin Castle very early in the morning. It was the same carriage and driver that had brought Hattie from Ely some weeks ago. The driver winked at Hattie in a friendly fashion.
“And how be you faring, my maid?”
Hattie beamed at him. “Very well, thank you. And how are you and your horse?”
“Us? Oh, we’ve been fair to middlin’,” said the driver. “Better, though, much better since Sir Sisyphus, your great-uncle like, sent us these.” He touched the horse’s harness. Hattie stepped closer to see what he was pointing at. Hanging on the harness were two small amulets: one of a crocodile, the other of a hippopotamus.
“Sobek,” breathed Hattie. “And Tawaret.”
“That’s their names, then, is it? Well, whatever they’re called, they work a fair treat. No problem with obstructions on the road now. In fact,” the driver continued thoughtfully, “it could be just my fancy, but I’d almost swear the creatures kind of smile at us now, when we drive by.”
“Really?” Hattie thought for a moment. “And does everyone have amulets like this now? I mean, like the postmen?”
“Well, they was offered, and most everyone took them.” The driver frowned a little. “There was that new young postman, though, smart-alecky kind of a chap, laughed and said they was superstition, that there was nothing in the fens he hadn’t seen afore, and he wasn’t about to be wearing heathen-looking things like those . . .” His voice trailed off.
“And?” asked Hattie.
“We’re still waiting to see if he comes back,” said the driver simply. “Been a few days now, though . . .”
“Could I possibly have some assistance here?” Edgar Raven was struggling with a large, long, brown paper-wrapped box. That, Hattie knew, held the mummy case containing the mummy that was to be unwrapped that afternoon. “If you’ve quite finished your conversation, of course.”
The driver winked at Hattie again. “Of course, sir. Be right there, that I will.”
Hattie patted the horse’s neck and smiled at the amulets. It was good, she thought, that Great-uncle Sisyphus had remembered, and that the amulets appeared to offer the same protection today that they’d offered the Egyptians so many years ago.
Edgar Raven went back into the castle and came out carrying a small brown attache case. The driver moved forward. “That to go with the luggage then, sir?”
“No. Oh no.” Edgar Raven clutched the attache case to his chest. “That stays with me.”
The driver shrugged. “Right ye are, then.”
They reached Ely in time for the first train to London. Edgar Raven saw that the mummy case was stowed safely in the luggage van, then he and Edwina Raven climbed in after it.
“Aren’t Mr Edgar and Miss Edwina coming in the carriage with us?” Hattie asked Great-aunt Iphigenia.
“They never do, my dear,” replied Great-aunt Iphigenia. “They feel they must ensure that the mummy case reaches its destination safely. So dedicated. I don’t know what I’d do without them.”
Hattie couldn’t argue with the Ravens’ degree of dedication, and she certainly felt more comfortable travelling alone with Great-aunt Iphigenia in their first-class compartment, and not having those four dark eyes constantly on her.
They reached London in good time, and Edwina Raven went to call a carriage while Edgar Raven supervised the unloading of the packaged mummy case. He glanced at his pocket watch. “We’ve plenty of time to reach Mayfair,” he assured Great-aunt Iphigenia.
“Excellent,” replied Great-aunt Iphigenia. She gave the address to the carriage driver.
The house, when they reached it, impressed Hattie immensely. It stood in a square of similar houses, tall and white-painted with columns at the top of steps leading to a glossy black-painted door, and black railings closing it off from the pavement. The houses were arranged in a hollow square, and in the middle of the square was a garden full of trees and bushes and flowerbeds and gravelled walks. It was too late in the year for flowers, but Hattie could see that in spring and summer it would be a cool, leafy, pleasant place to walk.
While she was admiring the square, Edgar Raven had the mummy case unloaded onto the pavement, then rang the bell at the front door. A footman wearing white stockings, red ja
cket and breeches and a powdered wig, opened the door and looked down his nose at them.
“All deliveries to the back door,” he sniffed.
Great-aunt Iphigenia drew herself up and handed him a small card. “You may inform Lord Arelsford that Iphigenia Lambton is here,” she said.
“The Honourable Iphigenia Lambton,” put in Edgar Raven.
The footman changed his attitude and his expression. He held the door open. “Please wait in the hall,” he said. “I will inform Lord Arelsford of your arrival.”
Soon the footman returned. They were shown into the room where the unwrapping would take place and left to make their arrangements. Edgar and Edwina Raven looked around, and lifted the mummy case onto a large table that had been placed at the front of the room. They unpacked a box of instruments and placed it on the table. “I believe all is ready, Miss Lambton,” Edgar Raven said.
Great-aunt Iphigenia checked the mummy case, opened the instrument box and peered inside. “Exactly right,” she said.
“I can hear people arriving!” Hattie had been standing near the door, dying to peer through a crack, but restraining herself from doing so. She was glad she hadn’t when the door opened suddenly and the footman appeared. Behind him, Hattie could see the hall was full of people, men and women dressed in the height of fashion and talking loudly.
“If you will follow me.” The footman had come to conduct Great-aunt Iphigenia, the Ravens and Hattie to join the party.
In the next room, Lord Arelsford himself, stout and ruddy and good-natured, came to greet them. “Such an honour to have you do this for us!” he exclaimed to Great-aunt Iphigenia. He looked down to beam at Hattie. “And who is this? Your assistant, perhaps?” He laughed heartily at his own joke.
“May I present my great-niece, Miss Hatshepsut Lambton,” said Great-aunt Iphigenia.
Hattie bobbed a curtsey.
“Your great-niece?” said Lord Arelsford. “Splendid! Splendid! And will you be following in your great-aunt’s distinguished footsteps, my dear? Will you be an Egyptologist as well?”
The Mummy Smugglers of Crumblin Castle Page 5
