Secret of the Prince's Tomb

by Marianne Hering

  The boy took Tabitha’s hand. “Are you all right?” he asked her.

  “Yes,” Tabitha said, smiling at him. “Thank you.”

  The boy let go of Tabitha’s hand. He looked at Beth and Patrick. “Who are you?” he asked.

  “I’m Patrick. And this is my cousin Beth,” Patrick said.

  “I am Lateef,” the boy said.

  “Guards tried to grab me at the marketplace,” Tabitha said. “They wanted to put me to work digging with the other Habiru. But Patrick and Beth helped me escape.”

  The boy nodded at the cousins. “I’m grateful,” he said. “It’s unusual for strangers to help the Habiru.”

  “Is there something wrong with the Habiru?” Beth asked.

  “There wasn’t,” Lateef said. “But something has changed.”

  Tabitha frowned. “You’re safer away from us,” she said to Beth and Patrick.

  Tabitha’s father nodded. “We must be careful,” he said. “At least until I know why my people are being treated this way. Many have already been taken out of their homes.”

  “Where should we go?” Beth asked.

  “Come with me,” Lateef said. He turned and walked away.

  The cousins said good-bye to Tabitha and left the house. They had to run to catch up with Lateef.

  He looked angry. “I will speak with my father about sparing Tabitha’s family,” the boy said.

  “Who is your father?” Patrick asked as they walked.

  Lateef’s mouth fell open. “You don’t know?” he said. “My father is the pharaoh!”

  4

  The Nile

  “The pharaoh?” Beth asked. “You mean, kind of like the king?”

  “Yes,” Lateef answered. “I’ll ask him why the entire country has turned against the Habiru.”

  Lateef walked very quickly now.

  Beth and Patrick jogged to keep up with Lateef.

  They passed a wide river. Many people sat and watched the water. Beth wondered why they looked so concerned. A few were crying.

  “What are they looking at?” Beth asked.

  “The Nile River is too low,” Lateef said.

  “How much too low?” Patrick asked.

  Lateef motioned toward the water. “Do you see the lines on the riverbank?” Lateef asked.

  The cousins nodded. Fat black lines were painted on the sides of the rocks.

  Lateef said, “If the water doesn’t rise, the Nile won’t flood enough. What you’re standing on is called the Black Land.”

  “Looks green to me,” Patrick said.

  Lateef ignored him. “The Nile floods every year. That makes the Black Land more fertile. If the river doesn’t flood, the land dries out. Then the ground you’re standing on becomes like the Red Land.”

  “Is the Red Land the desert?” Beth asked.

  Lateef nodded. “The crops won’t grow,” he said. “We’ll have a terrible famine.”

  “My father says not to worry about things you can’t control,” Patrick said.

  “But we can control this,” Lateef said.

  “You can make it rain?” Beth asked.

  Lateef said, “Yes.”

  Beth glanced at Patrick. It looked as if he was holding back a laugh.

  “How can you do that?” Beth asked.

  “I have to show you,” Lateef said.

  Lateef took them to a huge building. Its columns made the columns in Tabitha’s house look like toothpicks. Hieroglyphics decorated every column and every wall.

  “This is the temple,” Lateef said. “We’re allowed on the patio. Only the priests may go all the way inside.”

  People scurried about. Their faces were turned down with sadness. They carried bowls of sweet-smelling incense. Many brought in small pieces of cloth with hieroglyphics on them.

  “What are they doing?” Patrick asked.

  “They are offering sacrifices to the gods,” Lateef answered. “They bring their gifts to the temple. Prayers are written on the cloths. Then the priest offers the gifts and prayers to the gods inside.”

  “Which gods?” Beth asked.

  “Ra, the god of the sun.” Lateef pointed to a picture of a man on the wall. The man had the head of a bird. The sun was on top of his head.

  “Seth, the god of storms,” Lateef said. He pointed to a picture of a man. The man had a strange-looking horse head.

  “And Anuket, the goddess of the Nile.” He pointed to a picture of a woman. She wore a tall gold headdress.

  “Exactly how many gods do you have?” Beth asked.

  “We have hundreds of gods,” Lateef said.

  Beth had learned about Egypt’s gods in school. But she still thought this was very strange. She believed in only one God. He was the one who created the universe and everything in it.

  Lateef continued. “If the people bring enough sacrifices, the gods will be happy. Then, if the gods choose, they will raise the waters. The gods might save us. They might send rain.”

  “Why aren’t your gods happy?” Patrick asked.

  “Many things can make them angry,” Lateef said. “Only one thing pleases them: sacrifice.”

  Patrick and Beth exchanged worried looks.

  Lateef took them back to the marketplace. He bought some fish and gave one to each of them. Beth held the slimy creature with two fingers.

  “We must go back to the temple,” Lateef said. “You will offer your sacrifice there.”

  “I won’t offer a sacrifice,” Patrick said. He handed the fish back to Lateef.

  “Why not?” Lateef asked.

  Beth glanced at Patrick. Patrick had better be careful here. This is the pharaoh’s son. He could get us in a lot of trouble!

  Patrick said, “We have our own God. We can’t sacrifice to yours.”

  Lateef stepped forward. He glared at Patrick. “You refuse to bow to our gods? Say so, and these will be the last words you ever speak.”

  5

  The Pharaoh

  Patrick looked into Lateef’s face. The pharaoh’s son meant business.

  What should I say? Patrick wondered. If I say the wrong thing, he’ll have me killed.

  But there was no way Patrick would sacrifice to the Egyptian gods. Then he had an idea.

  “Is it a crime to worship one God?” Patrick asked quickly. “Do you mean no one here worships just one God?” He could feel Lateef’s hot breath on his face.

  “The Habiru do,” Lateef said. “And my people don’t trust them because of that.”

  “But your friend Tabitha worships one God?” Beth asked.

  “Yes,” Lateef said. He seemed to relax.

  “Then you can consider us your friends, too,” Patrick said.

  Lateef took the fish from Beth. He said, “I will allow it for now. But a time will come when all will sacrifice to our gods. They must be made happy.”

  Lateef clenched his teeth and hurried around the cousins. They followed along behind him.

  Patrick whispered to Beth, “Why would anybody worship gods who are mad all the time?”

  “I don’t know,” Beth said. “It makes me glad that I have a God who loves me.”

  They went back to the temple. Lateef made his sacrifice. Then they passed back through the crowd.

  Lateef was treated like a king himself when they arrived at his home. Servants came from everywhere to ask if he needed anything. He raised his hand to quiet them. “Just tell me where my father is,” he said.

  “He is in the throne room,” one of the servants said. “But he is talking with his advisers.”

  “Talking about what?” Lateef asked.

  “The pharaoh is very busy protecting Egypt from its enemies,” the servant said.

  Lateef said, “Two men tried to force Tabitha out of her house. Is Tabitha’s family now our enemy?”

  The servant looked worried. “Perhaps you should ask your father. Of course, you must wait until he finishes his important meeting.”

  The servant bowed and left the cou
sins and Lateef alone in the huge, beautiful room. Patrick marveled at the colorful pictures on the walls. The air didn’t smell like sweat and dead fish. It smelled like perfume.

  Lateef waved a hand at them. “We’ll wait on the roof. It’s cooler there.”

  Lateef took them to a narrow stone staircase. They climbed up and came out on a flat roof.

  Patrick expected it to be hot. But the walls surrounding them actually caught a cool breeze. They sat under a cloth canopy.

  From here they could see much of the city. People scurried around. They all seemed upset and scared.

  Lateef looked worried too.

  After a few minutes, they heard a scuffle below them. Lateef stood up. He moved to the edge of the roof and looked down. Patrick and Beth joined him.

  Near the palace entrance, a muscular man shouted at a teenage boy. Patrick couldn’t understand the man’s words.

  The teenage boy dropped to his knees. He pleaded with the muscular man.

  “What’s going on?” Beth asked.

  Lateef said, “I don’t know. But I know that boy. It’s Tabitha’s older brother. He works—worked here as an errand boy.”

  Suddenly, the man pulled out a long, thin rope. He lashed the teenage boy’s back with it.

  “Aaahhh!” the boy screamed.

  Lateef leaned forward. Beth looked worried that he might fall off the roof.

  “What are you doing?” Lateef yelled. But the muscular man didn’t hear him.

  The boy raised his arm. The muscular man stopped the beating. The boy got up slowly. He could barely stand. The man raised the rope again.

  “Stop!” Lateef shouted.

  The muscular man looked up.

  “Let him go!” Lateef demanded.

  The man bowed and then walked away. The boy looked up at Lateef thankfully. Then the boy ran away on shaky legs.

  “I must talk to my father, now! I will use the secret stairs,” Lateef said.

  Lateef and the cousins left the roof. They went down the stairs to a different hall. They reached a section of a wall with paintings of flowers.

  Lateef pushed on one of the flowers. Click. A crack appeared in the wall. He pushed open the hidden door. It led to a secret staircase.

  The three children went down the stairs.

  They came to another wall. Lateef touched a stone, and a door opened. It led to a large room.

  The room looked empty. Voices echoed from somewhere.

  Hieroglyphics had been painted on the walls and columns. A few brightly colored rugs covered the polished stone floors.

  “Be silent,” Lateef said softly. “This is the throne room.”

  The children crept around a pillar to see what was happening.

  A thin man with a tall blue crown sat on a stone seat. The man held a golden scepter with a hook on the end. Patrick guessed the man was Lateef’s father, the pharaoh.

  The pharaoh was scolding a man. Patrick couldn’t hear the words clearly. The pharaoh sounded angry—and maybe even a little afraid.

  “I will have to speak,” Lateef whispered. He looked as if he might step forward.

  Suddenly a man appeared in front of him. The man was carrying a tray of half-eaten food and dirty plates.

  “Don’t interrupt your father right now,” the man said to Lateef.

  “Hasheput!” Lateef said softly. “What are you doing here?”

  “Serving your father, as I’ve always done,” the man said. “Now leave quickly before you find yourself in trouble.”

  “I want to know what’s happening,” Lateef said.

  “I’ll tell you what I can,” Hasheput said. “Follow me.”

  Hasheput led Lateef and the cousins through a back door to a courtyard. Past the courtyard was an area filled with workers. Some were washing clothes in basins.

  Hasheput called out to a man and held up the tray. The man came and took it away.

  “That’s my friend Hasheput,” Lateef said to Beth and Patrick. “He knows Tabitha’s father.”

  Hasheput turned to the young prince. He looked troubled. “How may I serve you?” he asked.

  “Why are there beatings?” asked Lateef. “Why is my father treating the Habiru like they’re our enemies? Even now Tabitha!”

  Hasheput looked around nervously. Then he seemed to be calm. “Your father doesn’t trust any Habiru. He believes the Habiru are having too many children.

  He’s afraid they’ll soon outnumber the Egyptians,” Hasheput said.

  “But it’s good to have many friends,” Lateef said.

  “Friends, yes,” Hasheput said. “But what if the Habiru realize their numbers and strength? What if they decide to attack? We couldn’t defend ourselves.”

  “They have been friends to us for generations. They live among us,” Lateef said. “What can my father do? Drive them all away? Destroy them?”

  “No,” Hasheput said. “His plan is to use them. Keep our power over them. Thousands have already been taken. They will be our slaves.”

  Lateef’s eyes widened.

  Beth gasped. “Slaves!”

  6

  The Slaves

  Lateef’s anger spilled out. “I cannot bear it! I won’t allow Tabitha to become a slave,” he said.

  Beth thought Lateef was in a difficult position. How could he help his friend without disobeying his father?

  “If you have no further need of me—” Hasheput said. He bowed and walked away.

  “How can we help?” Beth asked Lateef.

  “Find Tabitha or her father or her brother Ammon,” Lateef said.

  “Ammon was the young man being beaten?” Beth asked.

  “Yes. If you find them, they may come here. I’ll hide them in the palace,” Lateef said.

  “Where will we find them?” Patrick asked. “At home?”

  Lateef shook his head. “Their home is too dangerous. They may be among their own people.”

  “Where is that?” Beth asked.

  “Go to the workers digging the canal,”

  Lateef answered. “I will hope to speak with my father soon.”

  The three of them parted.

  Beth and Patrick followed a well-worn path away from the palace. They asked a merchant in the marketplace where they could find the Habiru. He pointed toward a spot far away, next to the Nile.

  “This won’t be easy,” Patrick said.

  He was right. The hot sun blazed down on them. It felt as if someone had placed a hot iron on Beth’s neck. The farther the cousins walked, the hotter they felt.

  Patrick and Beth walked keeping watch. They searched in all directions for Tabitha or her brother.

  Beth shook her feet. She had burning sand in her sandals.

  “Look!” Patrick said to Beth. A crowd of people was hard at work. Most of them were dressed in simple tunics. They didn’t have golden belts and necklaces like Beth and Patrick.

  Many dug with shovels. Beth and Patrick got closer. People were digging a long, deep hole.

  “What are they doing?” Patrick asked.

  “This must be the canal,” Beth said. “It will come from the Nile. Boats come down the river. Then the boats can follow the canal and travel into the city. The canal will also allow water to flow into the desert.”

  “So this is why the Egyptians want slaves,” Patrick said.

  Beth felt sorry for everyone who worked hard shoveling dirt. Sweat poured down their sunburned faces.

  A man near them doubled over and fell to his knees. Beth thought he must be suffering from the heat. She and Patrick ran toward him.

  Before they reached him, an Egyptian guard stepped forward. He held a long staff. He tapped it against the man’s shoulder.

  “Get up!” the guard shouted.

  The man struggled to stand. The Egyptian quickly grabbed him and yanked him to his feet. The man’s legs wobbled. He could barely stand.

  “Dig!” the Egyptian shouted. The man bent over to pick up the shovel. Then he fell back to his knees
. The Egyptian hit the man in the back with the staff.

  “Hey!” Patrick yelled and moved forward. Beth grabbed his arm to hold him back. She was afraid of what the Egyptian would do.

  The Egyptian guard scowled at Patrick. Then he turned back to the fallen man. “Get up!” the guard shouted.

  The man was on all fours. Then a girl hurried toward the man with a pot of water. It was Tabitha!

  Tabitha put the pot down. She tilted the pot. Water trickled out.

  The man cupped his hands to catch the water. He slurped the liquid. Some of the water dripped down his chin.

  “Be strong,” Tabitha said to the man.

  The Egyptian guard shoved Tabitha aside. “He’s lazy. Away with you!” he said.

  Tabitha backed away from the Egyptian. She looked sadly at the man on the ground. Beth and Patrick moved toward Tabitha.

  Beth asked, “They’ve made you into a slave?”

  “They caught me after you left my house,” Tabitha said.

  “Where is your family?” Beth asked.

  Tabitha shook her head sadly. “They’re digging,” she said.

  “Come with us,” Patrick said. “Lateef said he would hide you in the palace.”

  Tabitha glanced around at the Egyptian guards. Some of them had whips.

  “Meet me by the large water pots in those tents,” Tabitha explained. She pointed to a set of open-air tents. Beth saw four enormous pots that looked like vases.

  The cousins nodded. Tabitha took her small pot of water and raced away.

  “What can we do?” Beth asked Patrick.

  “I think I have a plan,” Patrick said.

  Beth and Patrick found Tabitha behind the tent. Patrick looked inside one of the large pots. “This one’s empty,” he said. “Can you fit in here?”

  “What?” Tabitha asked.

  “Get in the pot,” Patrick said. “Beth and I will carry you to the palace.”

  “What?” Beth and Tabitha said at the same time.

  Patrick picked up two poles lying nearby. He said, “We’ll put these poles through the handles of the pot. Beth and I will carry the poles on our shoulders.”

  “It’ll be hard,” Tabitha said.