The Eye of the Pharaoh

by Roger Hurn

  ‘All this is true, Ramenha, but do you think that if you built just a small pyramid, it would be so very sinful? I mean, it needn’t be anything pretentious - just a simple stone structure to house the earthly remains of our dear dead young Pharaoh.’

  This remark made Theoman blink and he said sharply, ‘Why do you say dead young Pharaoh? Ramenha is in excellent health and will live, the gods willing, for many years yet!’

  Ahketnan flung his hands up in a placatory gesture and a look of supplication suffused his plump features.

  ‘Of course he will. I don’t know why I said it, just a slip of the tongue, I suppose. Do forgive me, Lord.’

  Ramenha shook his head and grinned. ‘There is nothing to forgive, Uncle.’

  Then his face grew serious and business-like once again.

  ‘Now I want both of you to accompany me out to Rhazu Nabal and see the site of my first series of ditches.’

  At this both Ahketnan and Theoman blanched.

  ‘But Rhazu Nabal is half a day’s ride into the desert,’ croaked Theoman.

  Ramenha nodded. ‘Naturally. That is where the water is most needed.’

  Ahketnan smiled with patent insincerity. ‘My Lord, normally I would be delighted to go with you but, sadly, my chariot has a broken wheel and will not be ready until tomorrow at the earliest. You would just not believe the difficulty one has in finding a reliable repair shop these days.’ He shrugged apologetically.

  Before Ramenha could reply, Theoman spoke up. ‘This is no problem, Ahketnan for, although it grieves me deeply to miss an outing into the desert to see my Lord’s irrigation ditches, I will lend you my chariot.’

  A look of horror flashed across Ahketnan’s face. ‘No, I couldn’t possibly…’

  At this point, Ramenha intervened. ‘Gentlemen, gentlemen, there is no need for either of you to be disappointed, for we will make the journey by camel.’

  ‘Camel!’ Both Ahketnan and Theoman stared at Ramenha as if he had taken complete leave of his senses.

  ‘Yes, camels are far more economical to use than chariots and far less likely to break down.’ Ramenha smiled sweetly at them.

  ‘But they’re so bad-tempered,’ countered Theoman.

  ‘And they spit and bite in a most vicious manner,’ added Ahketnan.

  Theoman nodded. ‘And they’re uncomfortable.’

  ‘Very. And it’s impossible to look dignified and elegant on a camel.’ Ahketnan folded his arms as if this had clinched the argument. It hadn’t.

  ‘Oh, that’s all right,’ Ramenha answered. ‘We’re not going to look dignified and elegant – we’re going to look at irrigation ditches. Now come on, I want to get there before noon.’

  Theoman and Ahketnan had no choice but to agree. The other nobles, counsellors and courtiers were smirking at their obvious discomfort when Ramenha wiped the collective smile off their faces by announcing that he could no more deprive them of a chance to see the ditches than fly to the moon so, naturally, they were to accompany him as well. ‘And tell your servants to bring a picnic lunch,’ he said cheerfully. ‘It’s going to be a lovely day.’

  The Pharaoh strode out of the Throne room a great deal less popular than he had been a few minutes earlier. But only one person actually wanted to see him dead.

  Chapter Four

  Kaheb, Ramenha’s young secretary, was sitting at his desk in a small office. A pile of papyrus documents lay unread in front of him. Kaheb’s eyes were almost closed and his breathing was gentle and regular. Anyone who didn’t know better would have said he was nearly asleep. Actually, Kaheb was day dreaming. Ramenha had spared him the ordeal of the day trip to Rhazu Nabal so that Kaheb could catch up on some vital papyrus work that Kaheb had remembered needed doing about two minutes before the royal party set off. Now Kaheb was imagining the delights of the trip and congratulating himself on avoiding it. Sadly, his reverie was rudely interrupted by a servant who barged into the office without bothering to knock.

  The servant took one look at Kaheb, let out a groan then said in a tone that even his best friends would have described as sarcastic, ‘Kaheb …master.’

  Kaheb jerked back to full consciousness and made a grab for the pile of papyrus. He missed and sent it cascading to the floor. He glared at his servant who remained unmoved by the basilisk stare.

  ‘What is it, Kanah?’ he barked. ‘Can’t you see I’m busy?’

  Kanah raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips but when he spoke his voice held only the faintest trace of mockery.

  ‘Sorry to bother you master, but Ashkala and her priestesses of the moon are outside.’ He nodded towards the door. ‘Ashkala demands to see you.’

  Kaheb’s face fell and he looked desperately around the room as if hoping a convenient hiding place would suddenly appear. It didn’t.

  ‘Oh no, not them again.’ He put his head in his hands and groaned. ‘Can’t you say I’m not here or something? Tell them I’ve gone to Rhazu Nabal with the Pharaoh.’

  Kanah sighed. ‘You must be joking, master. You know those priestesses. They’d probably turn me into a frog if they thought I was telling fibs. And you know how I hate water.’

  Kaheb glared at him but he knew he was beaten. He slumped down on his stool like a slowly deflating pig’s bladder. ‘All right, Kanah. Just send them in will you?’

  Kanah smirked at the top of Kaheb’s head. ‘Your wish is my command, master.’

  He ambled to the door, opened it with a flourish and said,’ Come on in girls. His Nibbs will see you now.’

  He was brushed aside imperiously by a small woman with jet black hair and huge eyes the colour of midnight. She was followed by a collection of young women who, by the jut of their chins, seemed equally determined to stand no nonsense. In short, Ashkala and her band could have stopped a herd of hippopotami in mid charge by the force of personality alone. However, when she spoke, Ashkala sounded uneasy.

  ‘Oh, Kaheb, where is the Pharaoh? I must see him.’

  Kaheb tried out his brightest, most charming smile, but somehow it slipped off the side of his mouth and made his top lip curl under itself. He knew he looked more like a crazed rodent than the Pharaoh’s secretary but he was doing his best.

  ‘Ah, you’ve just missed him I’m afraid, Ashkala. He’s gone off to spend the day at Rhazu Nabal watching some ditches being dug. Though, if I know Ramenha he’ll probably end up digging them himself with, of course, a little unwilling assistance from poor old Theoman and Ahketnan. Still, the exercise will do them good.’

  Ashkala fixed him with a hard stare. ‘The same might be said of you.’

  Kaheb harrumphed. ‘Yes, well somebody’s got to stay behind and write up the records. This kingdom doesn’t run itself you know.’ He glanced pointedly at the water clock on his desk. ‘Anyway, can I help?’

  ‘No!’ she said curtly. ‘No, what I have to say is for Ramenha alone.’

  Kaheb decided it was time to try a different approach. ‘Oh I say – secrets!’

  Ashkala sighed. ‘No, this is serious, Kaheb.’

  ‘Well, tell me then. After all, I am Ramenha’s secretary. I get to know everything in the end.’

  Ashkala gave him the kind of look she probably reserved for men caught red handed in the act of murdering their mothers, but then she exhaled heavily and nodded. She turned to her fellow priestesses. ‘Leave us,’ she said. ‘And take the servant with you. Make him forget this meeting ever took place.’

  Kanah tried to protest, but the women advanced on him. He cowered back and then fled. Already he was imaging that his skin was taking on a greenish tinge.

  ‘They won’t hurt him will they?’ asked Kaleb. His servant was lazy and disrespectful but Kaheb didn’t think transforming him into a small green amphibian would necessarily be an improvement.

  ‘Of course not.’ Ashkala jabbed her finger at him impatiently. ‘Now, stop wittering and listen to me. You are aware that, as High Priestess of the Moon, I am given the right to cast lots and tell
the future?’

  Kaheb decided to assert himself. ‘No, what I know is that every now and then you and your loony ladies slaughter some poor unfortunateanimal and make weird and wonderful prophecies based on the state of its insides. Cruelty to dumb animals, I call it.’

  He sat back and smiled at Ashkala. He felt he had made his point. Ashkala fixed him with the kind of terrifying stare that they teach girls as standard in priestess school and snarled at him.

  ‘Do you, or do you not wish to hear what I have to say?’

  Kaheb, who had never been to priestess school, gulped nervously and agreed that he did.

  Ashkala turned the stare down a few notches from petrifying to a bit scary. ‘Then be dumb like the animals you sympathise with and listen,’ she advised coldly.

  Kaheb watched intently as the little priestess paced up and down his office telling her tale of Ramenha’s impending doom. But, after what seemed to him an age of tiresome babbling about signs and portends, he decided to call a halt.

  ‘I don’t know if Ramenha’s in danger or not, but I’ll tell you this, Ashkala. I am certainly losing the will to live. If you’ve got any proof to back up your wild accusations now would be a good time to share it.’

  Ashkala looked at him incredulously. ‘But I am sharing it. The signs cannot lie. Something evil is about to happen. A great disaster is going to befall Ramenha. I know it.’

  Kaheb had had enough. ‘Stuff and nonsense. Look here, Ashkala, if you can come up with some real evidence that Ramenha is in deadly danger then I’ll be prepared to act, but until then I’d stick to weather forecasting if I were you.’ He glanced at the water clock again. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m a busy man.’

  Ashkala gave him a look that could have peeled an orange at ten paces but Kaheb refused to be intimidated and started to shuffle the scrolls on his desk. Ashkala leaned forward and put her hand on them.

  ‘Please Kaheb, ride to Rhazu Nabal and warn the Pharaoh.’ She was as close to begging for his help as she was ever likely to come. Kaleb sat back and folded his arms.

  ‘Look here,’ he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. ‘The only danger Ramenha is in today is if he insists on digging the ditches himself and gets a nasty blister on his hand. And even if he does, it’s hardly likely to prove fatal now, is it? No, you take my advice, Ashkala. Lay off breathing in all those sacred fumes when you make a sacrifice, they’re addling your brain.’

  So saying he swept up all his scrolls and marched smartly out of his own office. It wasn’t until he was in the corridor outside and saw the priestesses standing by his sleeping servant that he realised it was Ashkala, not he, who should have left. Still, it was too late to go back now. He smiled wanly at the women who stared at him expectantly and with a cheery, ‘Good morning ladies,’ he hurried on down the corridor and out of sight.

  Meanwhile, Ashkala was still in Kaheb’s office. She shook her head in sorrow and muttered aloud, ‘You will see, Kaheb. You will have cause to regret those words.’ She chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully. ‘But perhaps there is still time to do something. Oh, if only I knew the exact nature of the disaster and when it’s going to strike.’ Then she narrowed her eyes. ‘Lay off the sacred fumes indeed! I’ll show him. I’ll go and sacrifice to the goddess again and perhaps this time the signs will be clearer.’

  Chapter Five

  A big yellow moon that seemed too fat and heavy to hang suspended from the purple sky sent a shaft of pale light in through the window of a sumptuous apartment in the wing of the palace reserved for relatives of the Pharaoh. A lone figure paced up and down the room so furiously that it seemed he would wear out the expensive and richly woven carpet - but only if his leather sandals didn’t wear out first. In short, he appeared as relaxed as a man with toothache waiting for the surgeon to arrive.

  The frantic walker was Salen and the apartment Ahketnan’s. However, relief was at hand for, at that moment, a door burst open and in strode a very disgruntled Ahketnan followed by a fawning, yet frightened, group of servants.

  ‘Shall we prepare your bath, Master?’ asked one.

  ‘No. Just go away and leave me alone,’ snarled Ahketnan. I’ll send for you when I’m ready.’

  The servants bowed but, before they could make their escape, Ahketnan spoke again. ‘Actually, on second thoughts, take the night off. I’ll manage without you for once.’

  The servants scuttled away hardly daring to believe their luck. Salen however was unable to contain himself any longer. ‘Where have you been? I’ve been waiting here for hours?’

  Ahketnan pulled a face that seemed to say there was an unpleasant smell in the room and that he personally held Salen responsible for making it. He cleared his throat delicately and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again he appeared to have himself under complete control. He wore an expression much favoured by those who have to suffer fools gladly because they have no other choice. Then he spoke in a voice as cold and dangerous as a dagger at the throat. ‘In answer to your question, Salen, I have spent a delightful day out in the scorching sun, watching men shovel sand from one pile to another and then back again. I have risked serious injury by riding on a camel whose feelings for humanity in general, and me in particular, can best be described as warmly homicidal. Then, if I hadn’t feigned an injury to my back, that idiot nephew of mine would have had me down in the ditches digging alongside common labourers. In short, I haven’t had so much fun since the day a scorpion bit my foot. No, I’m afraid that after today’s little episode, I feel as friendly towards Ramenha as I would to a conger eel in my bath tub. From now on, he deserves everything that’s coming to him.’

  Crocodiles swam in the depths of Salen’s dark eyes when he replied, ‘Yes, but you were going to kill him anyway.’

  Ahketnan breathed out softly. ‘Oh yes, but now I’ll enjoy doing it.’

  For a moment both men were silent as they considered the delicious prospect of Ramenha’s death. Then Salen spoke. ‘Was Theoman with you?’

  Ahketnan looked grim. ‘He was, and if I may say so, he was about as much use as shaving with a wet lettuce. He actually waxed lyrical to Ramenha about the nobility and splendour of his vision. Can you believe it?’ His voice was incredulous. ‘And there was no shade. My goodness, I think I risked permanent disfigurement out in that sun. I daren’t think of the damage it’s done to my skin.’

  Salen shrugged. ‘Well, when you’re Pharaoh, you won’t have to worry about things like that will you?’

  Ahketnan gave Salen a long look. ‘True,’ he said at last. ‘And while we’re on the subject, the time has come to act.’

  Salen became as still as a fly trapped in amber.

  Ahketnan smiled. ‘I have invited Theoman here for a well earned drink after the day’s exertions. Bring me that pitcher of wine and two goblets, will you?’

  Salen stared at him suspiciously. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because,’ said Ahketnan producing a small packet from the pouch that he wore hanging from the belt at his waist, ‘I’m going to put a little of this powder into one of these goblets and Theoman is going to drink from it.’

  He tore open the packet and emptied its contents into one of the goblets. ‘When he is under the influence of the potion we will find out the exact hiding-place of the Eye of the Pharaoh, and then all we have to do is go and steal the jewel while he remains here, sleeping like a baby. Simple, eh?’

  With an expansive flourish, he filled all three goblets with wine. However, if he was expecting applause from Salen in acknowledgement of his cunning he was to be disappointed.

  ‘Wonderfully simple,’ sneered Salen, ‘but which goblet did you put the powder in?

  A shadow of doubt passed across Ahketnan’s face and his hand hovered indecisively over the goblets. Then he smiled. ‘It’s this one!’

  ‘Are you sure? I thought it was that one.’

  Ahketnan glared at his accomplice. ‘Of course I’m sure. It definitely was this one…I think.’<
br />
  Salen grinned an unpleasant little grin. ‘Why don’t you try it to make sure?’

  Ahketnan put his pudgy fists on his hips. ‘Oh, I see your little game. You want me drugged and out of the way so that you can get the jewel for yourself.’

  Salen shrugged. ‘Not at all. I just don’t want any slip-ups.’ He looked as if he’d just bitten into a particularly sour lemon. ‘What’s the matter, Ahketnan, don’t you trust me?’

  Ahketnan’s hard little eyes glinted like sun on ice. ‘Of course I do, my dear chap - just as much as you trust me.’

  For a moment they stared at each other like bare-knuckle fighters in a fairground booth. Then Ahketnan held up his hands palm up in a gesture of conciliation. ‘This is silly. Look, we need each other and that will be enough to keep us honest.’ He giggled. ‘Well, you know what I mean.’

  Salen nodded. ‘Oh don’t worry, Ahketnan, I know what you mean.’

  The two men relaxed, each convinced he had the measure of the other.

  ‘Now remember, this drug has the effect of making whoever drinks it act like a small child.’

  Salen frowned. ‘We want him telling us the truth so why are you giving him a drug that will make him act like a little kid?’

  Ahketnan tapped the side of his nose and winked at Salen. ‘Well, you know the proverb “out of the mouths of babes and sucklings”. And the beauty of it is, when he’s told us what we want to know, he’ll pass out and when he wakes up he’ll have forgotten everything he said here tonight.’ He beamed at Salen. ‘Feel free to express your admiration of my genius but be quick about it because Theoman should be here at any moment.’

  As the words left his mouth someone knocked discreetly on the door. Ahketnan held up one finger. ‘Ah, speak of an angel and you hear the fluttering of their wings.’

  He glided across the floor like an elegant but deadly reptile ready to welcome his new found drinking companion to the party.

  Chapter Six