by Jo Franklin
His eyes lit up. He began to bargain with the skill of an experienced entrepreneur, although he couldn’t have been more than twelve or thirteen years old.
“I give your beautiful daughter here a sexy scarf with gold tassels,” he said enthusiastically, “if you buy ten.”
“Ten! Oh, go on then. It’s only because I’m feeling generous tonight, and it’s my holiday. But don’t come bothering me again.”
Jan was rewarded with a great white toothy grin as he took the notes, thrust the scarves into her hand and one into Aline’s, and then rushed off to find another customer.
“They have such a charm about them,” Aline murmured.
They had no sooner said farewell to the lad when another seller accosted them.
“You must buy sandals,” he said confidently. “You can’t wear silken scarves and not have diamonds and rubies twinkling in-between your toes. Come this way. I will take you to my shop. Also I have jewels to put round your ankles and on your arms. Come, come. My shop is here, just across the way. Here, here.” He took Aline’s arm, becoming very persuasive.
“I don’t think we should,” murmured Jan. “We haven’t really got time before we go on to meet the others.”
“We’ll come back, when we’ve looked round the temple,” Aline said to the man, with a smile.
“Ah, is that a promise?”
He walked with them down the street, still holding Aline’s arm, and then he spotted more tourists and quickly went over to them.
Relieved, they hurried on to the temple. They could see Achmed standing with their group just at the entrance. He was looking round for them. As they arrived, he gave them their tickets and started to lead the party away.
“Jan,” Aline said suddenly. “I did see a little ornament, a pyramid I wanted to buy on the last market stall. I’ll catch up with you all later.” And without waiting for her reply she slipped quietly into the shadows, before Achmed could spot her.
She hurried back towards the market stalls. She knew it was an excuse. She’d seen something she’d like to buy, but she could have got it any time. She didn’t want to go with the group. She wanted to explore the temple on her own in the twilight. Peter would have been proud of her, calling her a romantic or something similar.
She got to the stall she wanted. It sold bits and pieces of every size and description. She’d seen a small pyramid which would fit on the shelf in her bathroom at home. She didn’t bargain too much because she knew she was wasting precious time if she was to rejoin the group at the end of the session. Achmed would be very concerned if she didn’t turn up.
The crowds had started to thin as she made her way once more up the path towards the temple. She couldn’t see the others at that moment but she knew they couldn’t be far away. She went through into the crowded inner courtyard and could easily have joined any group to listen to the guide, as every single party seemed to be English this evening. It had become quite dark, and the lights on the walls shone down onto the ancient stone path in such a way that it was difficult to see where to walk to avoid the cracks and crevices. But the night was clear, and the remnants of the stone pillars towering above were still very impressive, and sometimes intimidating, making her feel very insignificant. She could imagine how people had felt coming to worship there in the cool of the evening, maybe holding the hand of a loved one, surrounded perhaps by family and friends, content in the knowledge someone was looking after them from the great beyond.
She felt a great surge of happiness, and sat for a while on one of the stone walls, using one of the lights to help her see to scribble her thoughts down. Notebook one or notebook two? Surely the two could merge together. The facts linked with a tinge of the romantic. Peter had put ideas into her head. She knew she was writing some of the best work she’d produced and the magazine would be pleased with the finished result. At least she hoped so.
She breathed in the air. It seemed so pure and so fresh. She dangled her feet, as if she was a little girl sitting over a river. She listened to the present-day chatter and laughter which went over and around her. She was a part of all this. Life was good. That must have been the teaching of the temple from the beginning of time. The ‘now’ was important. She must live this life given to her, and not waste a moment.
After some time she began to rejoin the world. She had enjoyed the freedom of being alone, albeit with hundreds of other people in the building. It was nice to be unknown, with no one hailing her. But now it was time to find the others. They couldn’t have gone far.
She soon spotted them. Gerald stood with the light on her strange ears. Cheng appeared to be thinking deeply, with his eyes half closed. Peter was listening intently to something Achmed was saying, and for once wasn’t puffing at his cigar. Mary was a little way from him, staring up at one of the carvings. Jan had somehow managed to intertwine her ten silk scarves round her neck, arms and waist, and looked as if she could at any moment do the dance of the seven veils. The others seemed mesmerised by the mini-lecture.
And then Aline stiffened. She was being enveloped by a strong pungent perfume. Of course it had to be her, that woman! And it was! She stood a little way distant from the main group. Her red silk trousers and top contrasted with all the cottons and cropped trousers of the others. Her long, gold armlet-type bracelets closely covered each arm from wrist to elbow. Her black hair glittered in the dim light.
Nephthys had rejoined the tour.
*
Aline felt devastated. It had been so peaceful without her. And now, she was sure, Nephthys would somehow disrupt the party.
She didn’t go to join the others immediately. It was obvious Nephthys would start talking to her and try to intimidate her in her usual fashion. She walked off slowly into the darkness going down a sandy path; she followed it towards the back of the temple. It was becoming quite cold as the evening descended, and a cool breeze had started. She pulled her shawl round her shoulders and wound the scarf Jan had given her round her hand, hiding the gold ring. The little pyramid she dropped into a pocket of her jeans.
She retraced her steps along one of the corridors into the section of small rooms which still had their walls. She’d listened earlier to one of the guides saying that until recently those rooms had been used by nomadic people, and she could even see the holes in the walls where they tied their animals at night to stop them from roaming.
She wandered into one such room. She tried to imagine what it would have been like living in it. She’d have found it small, perhaps unbearable, to sleep there, with humans and animals all in close proximity, with only a small hole in a very high ceiling for all odours, including smoke from the fire, to exit. She sat on a stone seat, waiting.
She didn’t hear the door close and didn’t see who’d come in, as she was facing away from it, but she knew immediately who it was.
“You mustn’t be afraid of me,” Nephthys said gently. “I followed you to make sure you’ve come to no harm. It isn’t safe to wander round the ruins on your own so late at night. Even this room is becoming dark with its one light. They might switch them off soon and then you’d be completely in the dark.”
“I was just going.”
“Not yet. Do stay. I have some perfume for you.” She drew a small phial from her pocket and before Aline had time to move she thrust it under her nose. “Do smell this, my dear. It’ll make you feel very beautiful. It’ll make you a bit sleepy and it’ll make you forget now and remember back. It’s very special.”
Aline tried to avoid it, but couldn’t. She only took one small whiff. That was sufficient. She began to feel light-headed.
“That’s it. Well done.” She slid the shawl off Aline’s shoulders and it fell to the ground.
“Ah, that’s better. I want to take you on a little journey but you don’t have to move. I have something else for you.”
Aline tried to speak but couldn’t. Her body began to feel stiff. All she could see was Nephthys.
“I gave you a nec
klace,” she went on. “You were quite right. It was rubbish. I have another one for you. It’s engraved with symbols and it’ll help you to dream.”
Aline tried to move. She tried to get her mind to function, as Nephthys wound ropes of coloured beads and pebbles many times round her neck, pulling it tight and knotting it at the back. The only thing she could remember was her ring, hidden under the scarf round her hand.
She felt sure Nephthys hadn’t noticed it.
“There, now. You mustn’t fear me. I’m your friend.”
As Aline started to drift into a deep slumber, her surroundings became unearthly, filled with strange shapes and shadowy figures from the distant past. Someone whispered ‘Soon, soon,’ and she was once again in the room near the Sphinx. Then she was in the inner sanctum of the Hatshepsut temple with him waiting for her. In her overwhelming desire to be with him once more she would accept anything. Whatever happened she had to find the Egyptian.
Chapter 3
Tadinanefer sprinted through the fields, trying to outrun the wind, which had increased in strength since the morning. As her brown hair flew out behind her, free from the black wig she was nearly always forced to wear, she felt the wind mischievously playing with it and tossing it hither and thither. The energy of youth surged through every bone in her body and she felt as if she could fly straight up into the sky. She had left the strict confines of family and servants far behind. No one could catch her. No one knew where she was. She had taken advantage of her own serving girl, knowing the girl was madly in love with one of the young men helping to build her father’s tomb and would do anything to slip out to meet him. She had told her she was unwell, and had pretended to take herbs to make her sleep, and had lain watching through half-closed eyes as the servant slipped out to meet her lover. She knew both she and her servant would be in trouble when her father found out, and they’d be punished, but right now she didn’t care. She was as free as a bird, for about the first time in her life.
Some of the men working in the fields stopped to look at her as she raced along. But she didn’t pause to acknowledge their surprised looks. She knew they’d never seen her before like this, with her hair wild and her white skin glowing in the sunshine, and completely on her own. She knew where the River Nile was and she was determined to reach it before anyone could stop her. She’d seen it on outings with her family but they’d always kept her well in the background, surrounded by her sisters, and hidden and veiled so she could scarcely see anything. She wanted not only to see it but to bathe in it if possible.
At last she was there. The sight of the vast expanse of water took her breath away. She stopped and watched the water being churned by the wind. There was a haunting and beautiful sound as the wind sighed round a boat moored on the bank; it was like strange singing.
Tadinanefer wandered along near the water’s edge. Some lads were fishing just offshore in small boats, happily ignoring the dangers of the surging waves which might capsize them. She knew they were forced to fish in any weather or their families would go hungry. She waved to them. They stared across at her but didn’t wave back. The wind blew stronger suddenly, making her feel apprehensive. Maybe she’d been foolish to venture so far on her own. She should return.
But it was too late. In the distance she could see two chariots racing along the track, sending up clouds of dust into the sky. She was dismayed. She’d been found out. They’d come to take her back, and she now had to face the consequences.
She stood waiting quietly. They couldn’t do much to her, could they? She was, after all, the daughter of Ptah, who owned the farm.
Then she saw who was in the first chariot. It was her father. His face was thunderous as he stopped his horse in front of her. He got out very slowly. He didn’t immediately say anything to her. Then he hit her hard across each cheek. She reeled in horror, both from the pain and from the surprise of his vicious attack. He’d never before shown any violence towards her.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured.
Ptah motioned to his servant, who threw him a thick black robe.
“I told you,” Ptah hissed at her, “never to leave the confines of the house without at least one servant, and never to expose any part of your skin. You’re always to be completely covered.”
“I’m sorry,” she said again. Her head was beginning to ache.
“I’ll deal with you when we get home,” he growled. He threw the robe over her; it covered her from head to foot and fell over her face. He hauled her into his chariot, tightly winding a rope round her, tying it securely, and winding the ends round his hands.
He didn’t say another word on the way back to the house. He drove his chariot in an easy, expert way – so used to using it as a means of transport to get round his farm. But although he drove it much slower than when he’d chased after her, she would have lost her balance if he hadn’t held her in his strong grip.
He dragged her into the house, where her mother stood waiting with fear and alarm on her face.
“Ptah,” she murmured.
“Silence, wife,” he stormed at her. He pushed Tadinanefer towards her.
Masika unwound the rope and pushed the heavy cloth back from her daughter’s face.
“Oh, Ptah,” she said when she noticed Tadinanefer’s cheeks. “You’ve hit her.”
“That’s not her punishment,” he growled. “That comes later. Go to your room, girl.”
“What of my maidservant?” Tadinanefer asked. “She was not to blame. We both fell asleep, and I awoke before her and slipped out.” She wasn’t going to say that the girl had gone to meet her lover.
“She’ll be severely beaten,” Ptah said coldly. “She’ll be yelling in pain. Then she’ll be dismissed.”
“Please don’t hurt her, it was my fault.”
Ptah grimaced. “You’ll have to learn how you end up hurting people if you do just what you want. Now do as you’re told and go to your room, and stay there until I call you.”
She crept off. She felt very distressed. But she was determined to help her servant if she could. To do that she needed to hear what her parents were saying. So when she thought they’d forgotten her, she crept back to a spot where she couldn’t be seen and yet could hear them quite clearly.
“You’re too hard on her,” Masika was saying. “You should let her lead her life in the normal way like her sisters. They’re all married. She’s fifteen and should have been married long before this.”
“She’ll never be married,” Ptah hissed. “I have different plans for her. She’s not ordinary. She was given to us by those travellers, you remember, given to me by that beautiful woman. She stays with me until I die. Do you understand, woman? She belongs to me, to do with as I like.”
“And what happens when you die,” Masika flamed. “What do we do with her then?”
“I have that all worked out,” Ptah said quietly. “You don’t go against my wishes. Now take the servant girl to be flogged and sent on her way with nothing apart from the clothes she wears. I will deal with Tadinanefer.”
Tadinanefer heard her mother prepare to leave and quickly returned to her room.
She started to think. She knew Ptah and Masika were not her true kin. She only had to look at the lightness of her skin and her brown hair to know she hadn’t been born into the family. But she’d only just learned that Ptah never intended to marry her off. That was why he’d always been over-possessive with her. He’d always hidden her from everyone, by shrouding her in many robes. She thought it was because of her skin colour but now she wasn’t so sure. She’d only ever been allowed to show her strange beauty to close family and personal servants.
She sat down and folded her hands in her lap with her head held low. She awaited her punishment – she hoped it wouldn’t be a flogging.
*
Ptah appeared. “Put your outer robe on,” he said abruptly, “and follow me.”
She did as she was told, following in his footsteps. The hood fell over her ey
es. She couldn’t really see where they were going, but it was out of the house and quite a long way towards the perimeter of the farm, near the cliffs.
After a while they stopped. Ptah took out a key and unlocked the door to something carved in the rock. At first she thought they’d come to visit someone, but she suddenly realised it was no ordinary place. It smelt of paint and was cold.
Ptah closed the door and lit one of the torches. He tore off her robe so she stood only in her thin shift.
She could at last see around her.
“Do you know where we are?” he asked.
“It’s a tomb,” she answered fearfully.
“It’s my tomb. I’m having it prepared for my afterlife. It has several rooms and in each room I’ll have something I’ve owned during my life which I’ll take with me. The men have just left and they won’t be back until I tell them. They’re doing work to the walls and making paintings of things I do in my leisure time, my work and my family. Come this way.”
He took the torch and led her towards some steps carved in the wall.
“We’ll go down these to where my tomb will lie. When I’m entombed the steps will be removed and there will be a sheer drop. No one will get in or out.”
He took her hand and guided her down to the bottom where there was a chair.
“Sometimes I sit here, making my servants work harder on my paintings.”
He pushed her into the chair. “Sit down, Tadinanefer.” He took out a rope and tied each of her wrists tightly to the arms.
She looked up at him fearfully, beginning to understand what he was doing.
He smiled. “Your punishment is for you to spend the night in my tomb, for you to think on what you’ve done.”
“Please don’t leave me,” she cried. “What if Anubis, the God of the Afterlife, comes to collect me? He may think I’m dead. Don’t leave me here, I beg you.”
“If your sins are that great then you’ll die.” He leant down and kissed her on her forehead and smoothed back her damp hair. “We shall see.”
