The Book of the Dead

by Paul Davis

  ‘Fine,’ said Iola, ‘We can sit here then.’ She sat herself down on a stretch of low wall along the edge of the dock. ‘We’ll look after our health, and you can tell me how it was you realised it was Prokles who killed my father.’ She took out the bread and offered some to Kaires.

  He took the bread and a piece of cucumber. ‘I didn’t, for a long time. In fact I had pretty much excluded him from my reasoning, especially after the theft of the ring – if his injury was genuine, as I thought it was, there was no possibility that he could have managed it. I didn’t even suspect anything when I found the nail in his sandal – I didn’t know whose it was, and I thought it had just worn through the sole, as they do sometimes. It never occurred to me that it had been deliberately knocked through. It was only when you got the stone in your shoe, and started hopping about like a mad thing, that it suddenly clicked. And then everything else fell into place. I had wondered how anyone could conceal the sort of weapon that must have been used for both killings – I was thinking of a spear of some kind.’

  Kaires helped himself to a boiled egg.

  ‘When I realised it must have been Prokles, it followed that the reason he was faking his injury was so he would have an excuse to carry around his stick, and why would he do that unless it was concealing something? I knew I didn’t have to look any further.’

  ‘How did you know that was where he had hidden the map?’

  ‘Well, I didn’t, of course. But it was the best bet. I knew it must be hollow to hide the blade, and what better place to hide the papyrus as well? If it came down to a search of people’s belongings, as it might well have done after the theft, his stick would always be by his side. It would have been too risky to hide it anywhere else – it might easily have been discovered.’

  ‘Why didn’t you just have him arrested as soon as you knew it was him?’

  ‘In hindsight, I should have done. But I couldn’t resist the opportunity to make the others face a few home truths, as well. I’m sorry it got a bit out of hand. You were marvellous. I don’t suppose he’d have got far, but it would have been awkward if he’d got over the side and swum for it. How’s your neck?’

  ‘It’s fine. I don’t think he was really trying to hurt me. He was just angry that I stopped him. I wonder what he was going to say? ‘It’s all your fault?’ Something like that?’

  ‘Probably.’

  I can’t believe he would kill three people for a pile of gold, which may or may not even exist.’

  ‘That’s because you are young and innocent, and have yet to develop a healthy core of hard cynicism.’

  ‘I hope I never do,’ said Iola.

  ‘I hope you never do, as well,’ replied Kaires.

  -0-

  They finished their breakfast and continued on their way, passing by the Temple of Hathor without stopping, impressive though it was with its delicately carved low reliefs and brightly painted facade. Kaires would have liked to have paid his respects, but time was of the essence so they reluctantly went on with only the briefest of looks into the first courtyard.

  A few minutes’ walk further on brought them to the smaller but more ancient Temple of Renenutet. Here the reliefs and paintings were worn and faded, in need of restoration, but still impressive with their innate vitality. The cobra goddess reared up over her worshippers, powerful and terrible, but open to and accepting of propitiation. A pharaoh held up his offerings before her, and in return she granted him and his people her protection, and made the Nile flood, ensuring a good harvest for all.

  The Temple was very strict and formal, and Iola was denied entry even in to the first court. This did not go down well. Speaking so the two priests at the entrance to the first pylon could not help but overhear, she put on a very determined expression.

  ‘She’s a goddess, for goodness sake. Women should be welcomed into her sanctuary. How can the priests, who are all men, understand her? I bet they don’t know the first thing about –’

  ‘There are priestesses as well. And being a goddess means you can’t think of her as an ordinary woman.’

  ‘Why not? I mean, obviously not ordinary, but still a woman. With a woman’s thoughts and needs. She will understand my need right now to go with you and see what the healer has to say about snakebites. If those priests think they are going to stop me, they’ve got another think coming.’

  With that she made a feint to one side of the entrance, and then immediately slipped through past the priests on the other. They looked after her with disbelief, then all hell was let loose.

  Kaires folded his arms and sat on a bench until the hue and cry began to die down. A few moments later a dishevelled Iola was ejected forcefully from the Temple and deposited unceremoniously beside him.

  ‘Shall we try this my way?’ he asked. ‘In time, if the gods allow, you may become to be known as one of the great healers, and you will be able to command the respect of temples such as this. But at the moment you are a green student who has hardly had a single lesson. Wait here for a few minutes, and if you can manage to do so without starting a riot, so much the better. I’ll be back in a moment.’

  Kaires, to Iola’s annoyance, went unchallenged past the priests into the depths of the Temple and disappeared. She eased her temper a little by glaring at the priests, who glared back.

  After a short while Kaires came out again accompanied by a tall, slender man of about his same age. His head was shaven, and he was tanned a deep brown, with piercing black eyes. Iola thought he looked like a cobra himself.

  They came over to where Iola was sitting. ‘May I introduce Dr. Inti?’ said Kaires.

  ‘So this is the young woman who has been tormenting our guards,’ Inti said. He wrinkled his eyes when he smiled, looking very mischievous. ‘Even I can’t get you in to the Temple today. We have a very sacred ceremony in preparation. But another time, perhaps...’

  ‘We don’t have another time,’ said Iola. ‘In fact we only have an hour or two.’

  ‘That’s a shame. But if you like we could partake of some refreshment at my house. I live very close by.’

  Iola began to thaw. ‘We’ve just had breakfast. But perhaps something to drink? This heat makes me very thirsty.’

  ‘Of course. I have some pomegranate juice, unless you would prefer plain water?’

  Iola needed no further encouragement, and walked the short distance to Inti’s house in a better mood.

  They settled in his garden under a great old fig tree, whose large leaves cast a pool of shade over the small group of low stools that Inti placed by the side of a small pool in the centre.

  A servant brought them cups of pomegranate juice which they drank gratefully. Kaires and Inti discussed the various snakes of Egypt, starting with which were the most dangerous.

  ‘The cobra is the one with the strongest poison,’ said Inti. ‘It is often fatal, whatever we do, though we can save some if they are brought to us quickly enough.’

  ‘Didn’t Cleopatra choose to die by its bite?’ asked Iola.

  ‘So it is said. It would certainly been effective. And some believe the bite of the cobra grants immortality.’

  ‘What about other snakes? The horned viper?’

  ‘They are rarely fatal, unless the victim is weak and old, or a small child. The treatment is the same.’

  Kaires nodded. ‘What would you think is the best way of treating a snakebite, Iola?’ he asked.

  She considered for a moment. ‘I’ve heard that you should suck out the poison and bind the bite very tightly with a cord.’

  Inti shook his head. ‘Such an action may result in the bitten limb dying, in which case it has to be removed entirely, and in consequence the patient is likely to die anyway - regardless of whether or not the venom would have killed them.’

  ‘So what do you advise?’ asked Kaires.

  ‘The bitten limb should be bound between the bite and the rest of the body, but gently, not too tightly - just enough to slow the spread of the poison.
Then the patient must be made to rest, with the bitten area as low to the ground as possible, which also slows the spread. If the bite is on the lower leg, as it often is, the patient must be supported standing or sitting upright. Then the priests make prayers to the goddess, and if she is merciful, she allows the patient to live. If not, there is nothing else we can do.’

  ‘Thank goodness we don’t have many in Alexandria,’ said Iola.

  ‘There are snakes in all walks of life,’ said Kaires. ‘It’s just we don’t always recognise them.’

  -0-

  The sun was rising higher, and mindful of the time Kaires and Iola reluctantly took their leave and hurried back to the barge, to find Gallus pacing up and down the deck in a state of mild apoplexy.

  ‘Where have you been? We should have been on our way hours ago!’

  Kaires took a deep breath. ‘You said midday, sir, and as yet it is hardly mid-morning. Are we the last ones back?’

  ‘No you’re not. That wretched so-called friend of mine Strabo went out with the equally idiotic Chaeremon, and they haven’t been seen since. Call themselves geographers but they could get lost walking down the gangplank between the barge and the dock. If they’re not back soon we’ll leave without them. Serve them right. They can catch us up at the pyramids.’

  ‘I think you could give them another hour or two,’ said Kaires. ‘We’ll be at the pyramids tomorrow, whatever happens.’

  ‘Leaving a fortune lying about the place for anyone to help themselves? Why did we ever stop off here? I’m far too indulgent with these insane scholars. No wonder they lock them all up in the Museum. Keeping the general public safe. If I’d realised what a menace they all are, delaying important expeditions or murdering each other like those barbaric hordes rampaging across the land, leaving destruction and ruin –’

  ‘The gold, if it is there at all, has been hidden for well over ten years. No one is going to disturb it in the next twenty four hours. Why don’t you send out a couple of your men to find them? They can’t have gone far. They’re probably at the Temple of Hathor, or -’

  Iola shouted, ‘Look!’

  Both men turned to see what Iola was pointing at. Strabo and Chaeremon were hurrying – actually running - across the market place towards the barge. They glanced behind them at three or four Egyptians close on their heels, waving sticks and shouting. With a final spurt they shot up the gangplank, Strabo bolting downstairs to his cabin, and Chaeremon dodging behind the guard. The Egyptians came to a halt at the bottom of the gangplank, facing the guard at the top, shouting angrily after them.

  Gallus looked in astonishment at Kaires. ‘What are they saying?’ he asked.

  Kaires called down to them, and after a few words, the men started to calm down a little. After a few exchanges, they turned and went, though with much muttering and ill grace.

  Kaires shrugged. ‘Apparently one of our geographers insulted a sacred cat. They were rather put out. I said you were the Prefect of Egypt and would see a gift was made to the Temple. It’s only a small shrine, to Bastet.’

  ‘You mean they’ll make a gift to the Temple. The Roman Empire can’t afford to go showering gifts on everyone. Do they think we’re made of money?’ He called down. ‘Chaeremon, come here. Where’s Strabo gone?’

  Chaeremon struggled up the steps, still catching his breath. ‘He’s coming up, now he thinks it’s safe. Landed me right in it. Almost got us lynched.’

  Strabo appeared just behind, with a cautious look over the rails to make sure the coast was clear. ‘Nonsense,’ he said. ‘I was handling the matter very well until you intervened and upset them. If you hadn’t –’

  ‘What happened?’ said Gallus.

  ‘The idiot sat on a cat,’ replied Chaeremon. ‘Thought it was a cushion. Fortunately the cat wasn’t really hurt –’

  ‘The cat wasn’t hurt?’ interrupted an offended Strabo. ‘The cat? What about me? Damn thing near ripped me to shreds. Claws as sharp as knives, and it bit my –’

  ‘Serves you right. Anyway, it was some sort of sacred cat, and the keepers of the shrine got rather annoyed. I was calming them down quite successfully but this fool was dancing about, yelling and screaming, and he got everyone a bit worked up. Which is when they got the sticks and we thought we’d better leave. Excitable people, these Egyptians.’

  ‘You owe them a gift to their shrine,’ said Iola. ‘A bronze cat should do nicely.

  ‘Hear that, Strabo?’ said Chaeremon. ‘You can pick one up somewhere and give it to them on the way back, maybe get “A GIFT FROM STABO” inscribed on it.’

  ‘If you think I’m going to give those maniacs a present...’

  ‘You could put your proper name on it,’ suggested Iola.

  ‘I – mmm, well maybe,’ said a slightly mollified Strabo. ‘After all, it’s for the goddess, not them. Yes, perhaps I could find something.’

  ‘If you’ve all finished your squabbling,’ said Gallus, will one of you get the captain? Perhaps we can get moving after this intolerable delay.’

  -0-

  Iola and Kaires remained on deck once the others had gone down. The Gloria Aegyptae was once again under sail, making her way upstream with the aid of a good wind from the north. It was still not fast enough for Gallus, though, and he had gone below to give captain Nehesi the benefit of his advice and experience.

  They walked towards the stern and Iola made herself comfortable on one of the large cushions under the awning. Kaires seated himself on the next one a little way apart, and they just sat for a moment, letting the banks of the Nile slip by, listening to the sound of the wind in the sails and the wake behind them.

  ‘I wish I’d been there,’ said Iola.

  ‘Where?’ said Kaires, lost for a moment in his own thoughts.

  ‘When Strabo sat on the cat. Can you imagine?’ They both laughed, and Kaires felt his cushion give a little, tilting him towards Iola.

  ‘He can be very absent minded,’ she said, ‘especially when he’s involved with a subject that interests him. I wonder how his Geography will turn out. Chaeremon said he’s intending to write one now, because the world needs a balanced, considered, scientific study, not a collection of mindless ramblings of dubious provenance.’

  ‘Somehow I don’t see them taking any more long trips together. I wonder if Strabo will mention Chaeremon in his work? If so, I can’t wait to see what he says.’

  Was he imagining things, or had Iola leant more towards him as well? They were almost touching. He felt a strong impulse to take her hand, to kiss her, but stopped himself. He had been with girls before, had felt the need, but never like this. An ache that was real, physical, consuming him with fire and leaving him hollow with doubt at the same time. What if she sprang away, offended? He was older, four or five years – not unusual, certainly, but he had just agreed to be her teacher, and that bound him not to take any advantage of her. He could ruin everything by a rash move. Although it was Iola who had first approached him... Sooner or later he must think about a wife – his father had been dropping heavy hints for some time now - and for the last few days he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. A wife whom he could truly love, a helper, sharing his profession and his life. Always beside him, with him, sharing his thoughts, his hopes. He wondered what his sister would think of the situation. Would she talk sense to him, or encourage him? He was becoming maudlin.

  ‘Are you wondering what Hotepet would say?’ asked Iola, astonishing Kaires with her perception. Could she read minds?

  Kaires said nothing, just looked into her eyes. Her hand brushed his cheek, and then they were kissing, lips on lips, his arms around her, pulling her to him. He could feel the warmth of her through her linen shift, her soft breasts against his naked chest. He pressed her to him, all other thoughts vanishing; now there was only Iola, her hands stroking his hair, his caressing her back, kissing, kissing, losing themselves in each other, until they fell with a bump down between their two cushions, and Iola was laughing
again, as Kaires struggled to regain his composure.

  ‘I think I shall enjoy our lessons,’ said Iola.

  Kaires took one of the smaller cushions and hugged it to his lap to cover his embarrassment - his short kilt didn’t want to lie flat and he thought he had heard someone coming up the stairs to the deck.

  ‘Iola...’ Kaires didn’t know what to say. ‘I’m sorry –’

  ‘What for? I’ve been wanting to kiss you for ages. Since the first day you came to see my mother. I was ashamed at myself. My father was dead. But I had never seen such a handsome man in my life, and I couldn’t stop thinking about you. After my father’s funeral, I couldn’t bear the thought that I might never see you again. When I heard you would be on this trip, I knew I had to be on it as well somehow or other, whatever it took. So I told the captain I was your servant.’

  ‘And now it seems that I am yours.’

  ‘My teacher. Don’t think my interest in healing is just for your benefit. It is something I truly want to do. If it worries you, we can try and forget the last few minutes.’

  ‘Forget them? I want to remember them for the rest of my life.’

  Haemon and Aristeon appeared at the head of the stairs, chatting companionably together. They looked across at Kaires, flushed and clutching his cushion, and Iola, whose complexion had a healthy glow.

  ‘Not disturbing anything, are we?’ asked Haemon.

  ‘Mind if we join you?’ added Aristeon wickedly, sitting down on one of the chairs nearby.

  ‘This chair is rather uncomfortable,’ said Haemon innocently to Kaires. ‘Do you mind if I take your cushion?’

  Kaires, who no longer had any need of it, passed it across to the grinning pair, trying hard not to blush, but not succeeding.