Mystery of the Temple

by Nathaniel Burns

  “And what was that?”

  “Their bodies were reduced to bones within a day of their passing.”

  “Yes, well, that does sound concerning. How did this happen?”

  “The bodies rotted. The flesh actually looked as if it were disappearing into the air.” Neti stopped for several moments to allow the elder to think over what she had said before adding, “I was hoping you knew something and could possibly help us.”

  “Have you thought of what it could possibly be?” the Keeper asked.

  Neti lowered her voice before she spoke, “Not to sound as if I have lost my mind, but I think they are the walking dead.”

  The keeper looked at her for several moments. Neti had expected him to ridicule her, but he did not seem shocked. This caused her to ask, “Is there such a thing?”

  “My dear child, as the Keeper of Scrolls I have heard of many secrets, and I will say that the thought of the walking dead is not new. It may be difficult for everyday people to comprehend, but there are some who believe it to be fact.”

  “Who?” Neti asked.

  The elder rubbed his face, “I think the desert nomads were the first people who had tales of dead men who walked the desert. I will have to see if I can find such a scroll.”

  “Then it is possible?” Neti asked. “These men could have been such?”

  The Keeper shook his head. “I have never heard of such here in Thebes and I would not be too quick to consider anyone as such. You know how quick people are to take action against things they do not understand, or fear. I can only imagine what the High Priest of Amun would call for under such a circumstance.”

  “More burning of bodies,” Neti murmured.

  “Live people,” the Keeper said, causing Neti to look at him in astonishment. “The thought of the walking dead, my dear, is not all that uncommon. But the fear such an announcement will bring will cause our entire religious system to be called into question. We already have enough trouble with the Hebrews challenging it with their god.”

  “People would question the existence of an afterlife,” Neti said, nodding.

  “Let me see if I can find one of those scrolls.” He got up from his stool. “Wait here a moment.”

  Neti looked about the room, her attention drawn to a cracked cup containing several different feathers. Some were extravagant with patterns and different colors, very different from the geese and dove feathers one would find in the city. Sheets of high quality, fine-fiber papyrus lay on a heap next to an old scroll.

  A young woman entered the room, carrying a cup and a plate. She placed it on the small table to the side of Neti. “The master requested I bring you some wine and sweetmeats while you wait. He will be with you shortly.”

  Neti smiled and tried not to think of her grumbling stomach. She had not eaten anything since that morning and looked at the sweetmeats. The last time she had seen similar ones had been in the palace, where she quickly discovered their indulgence. She selected one she recognized as containing honey, then gathered up the cup of wine and tentatively sniffed the contents before taking a small sip. It was not as sweet as the wine she kept at her per-nefer but it was not as bitter as palm wine either.

  She bit into the small treat, fighting the urge eat it too quickly. Savoring its delicacy as she thought back to her visit at the palace. She had meant to ask the head cook if she could have the recipe, since there was always a need for sweet things. She was certain Yani could make them, possibly even barter them during festivals. The citizens enjoyed such a treats.

  She had consumed three of the treats before the Keeper returned. He was somewhat dusty but proudly held the scroll. “My apologies. It took longer to find than I had anticipated,” he said as he came to sit again on the other stool. He placed the papyrus on the floor, carefully rolling it out. “It is better to leave it on the ground. The papyrus produced when this was written becomes quite brittle with age.”

  Neti sat forward and looked at the symbols. Many were different from the ones she had learned, so she patiently waited for the Keeper to find what he was looking for.

  The Keeper perused the document for some time before he exclaiming, “Here it is! The walking dead.”

  “What does it say?”

  “The walking dead tales do come from the desert people.” His finger moved over several more symbols. “The belief originates…it does not really say. But it does mention that the desert people consider the walking dead to come from bad or impure Ba the gods have cast from the heavens for their behavior. It is said that their hearts are so unclean that they could taint a god if they dared to touched one.”

  Neti shook her head. “That is difficult to believe.”

  “As I said, our beliefs are different.” The keeper then returned to the scroll, “Because of this, the gods cast them out and banished them to the desert where they roam.”

  “Possibly like the desert-wandering Ba of the dead.”

  “That is possible,” he said, looking up for a moment. “There are tales of Ba attacking travelers.”

  “But they do not have bodies.”

  “That is also true,” the Keeper said, again looking at the papyrus.

  “Does it say there what they do, or how they survive?”

  The Keeper again went through the symbols. “Here their characteristics…well they are not endearing in the least.”

  “Why?”

  “It says here that the walking dead consume the flesh of the dead, that is why they have a body, and they drink the blood of their victims while still alive.”

  Neti felt a nauseating sensation start in the pit of her stomach, for she knew how badly the flesh of the dead could reek. But drinking blood…

  “They prey on those who dare to enter the desert on their own – it could be the reason why even our people believe it is not safe to enter the desert on your own.”

  “Anything else?”

  “It does mention here that they are considered to be grave robbers. But then all these spiritual creatures are accused of being grave robbers.”

  “It gives real robbers an excuse.”

  The elder shrugged but continued his perusal of the scroll. “It could also be why some survive the curses placed on tombs – because they are already dead.”

  Neti looked at him in astonishment. “I had never thought of that. We go through such trouble to bury the dead, to provide for them, but most of the tombs are looted.”

  “It also says here that if you are bitten by one, you become one…if they do not fully kill you first.”

  “You mean one could be half-dead?” Neti asked, confused.

  The Keeper shook his head. “I think it means they only weaken you, not kill you.”

  Neti thought it over for several moments.

  “I do not know if that helps you with your investigation.”

  Neti at first nodded and then shook her head. “It only makes for more questions.”

  “Such as?”

  Neti looked at him, hesitated, but then continued, “You may think that what I’m going to tell you is strange or that I have lost my mind but…”

  “I won’t think that,” the Keeper cut her short. He then added, “With what you have seen you are remarkably relaxed.”

  Neti breathed a sigh of relief and then started. “When I was at the Deir-el-Bahari yesterday…” She hesitated for a moment before continuing, “Someone mentioned to me that I will find the answers I seek outside Memphis. But I have never been to the city, or outside it, so I don’t know what they mean. I think that somehow it has something to do with these deaths.”

  “Memphis?” the Keeper said, sitting upright. “There are many myths surrounding that city, but it is most known for being the closest city to the pyramids of the pharaohs Khufu, Khafre and Menkaure, as well as to the great Sphinx. I recall that there were several complications during the construction of Khufu’s Pyramid, and many of the Pharaoh’s advisors even suggested a different site. However, the Pharaoh was d
etermined that it would stand there and that it was to be built to the measurements he provided.”

  “What happened?”

  The elder scratched his head, then looked at the scroll in front of him. “You are going to think this strange, but I decided a few days ago to have those records restored.” He stood and moved to his work area, collecting up the old scroll. “But I have not yet decided which of the scribes to assign it to.”

  He returned to his seat and sat forward, rolling up the first scroll before opening the second. The symbols on the second were similar in appearance to those of the first. “From appearances, both papyri were written around the same time,” the Keeper said.

  “Possibly the same scribe?” Neti asked hopefully.

  “I do not think so. This one used simpler symbols. It tells of the building of the pyramid and the Sphinx. That is odd,” the elder said as he progressed down the symbols.

  “What is?”

  The elder looked at Neti for a moment, inclining his head only a mere fraction before saying, “As one of the Pharaoh’s finest I trust you with this information. In the wrong hands it could have devastating consequences. I think this papyrus should also be moved to the forbidden section.”

  Neti nodded. “I understand.”

  The elder again followed the symbols. “What many do not know is that the Pyramid of Khufu is built on a spiritual energy line. The scribe here noted that it was because of its location that the builders and slaves suffered such problems. Blocks would break, ropes tore. Many men died.”

  “But this still happens today?” Neti asked.

  “They may still, but the figures this scribe noted are far more than usual. He even noted that at night the built part of the pyramid would glow.”

  “Possibly lamps used for inspection.”

  “I wouldn’t know, but it does mention a plague. One which appeared strangely similar to what you described.”

  “What does it say?” Neti asked eagerly.

  “Well, it mentions here that their flesh would turn pink and the next day would start falling from their bones. They intended to send them to the leper colony but the healers were adamant it was not leprosy. More were affected and the Pharaoh addressed the gods. By the time the message from the Pharaoh arrived, almost half of the slaves had the condition. Not knowing what to do, the foreman had the slaves dig a large pit. After doing so, the exhausted slaves did not have the energy to pull themselves from the pit and that night they were all killed.”

  “By whom?”

  “It does not say. It only says that the foreman the next morning ordered for the bodies to be covered. The one foot of the Sphinx it is said was eventually built over this area. Many believe the pit was to be a chamber. There are still beliefs today that there is a passage that leads to the chamber and that it holds riches unimaginable.”

  “But it does not?” Neti asked.

  The Keeper shook his head. “But there are those who are convinced it is true.”

  “What about the slaves’ families?”

  The elder again looked at the papyrus. “It does not mention anything here. Only that the temple at the base of the Sphinx was build to ask the gods for forgiveness. But none of the gods would accept it.”

  Neti thought things over for several moments. “Could it have been a curse of some kind?”

  The Keeper looked at her, his head tilting. “How so?”

  “Yesterday…Sutten prepared Dalva’s Book of the Dead. In it he placed spells that I have no knowledge of. You mentioned that the pyramid was built on a spiritual energy line and that it had to be built to the Pharaoh’s specifications. What if where they planned to build was protected by a curse? And this curse caused these conditions…”

  The elder shrugged. “It is possible. Anything is possible. But a curse would remain active. And if so, Ramesses and the others would have been exposed to it, and nothing has happened to him or the servants that live close by.”

  “Could it be that it only affects intruders – those who disturb the place?”

  The Keeper remained silent for several moments before nodding. “It could be, but there are no records for us to understand it. We do not even know what curses protect Pharaoh Khufu’s tomb.”

  “There are no records?” Neti asked.

  “The only ones are those inscribed within the pyramid. And even if these two men disturbed the tomb, I don’t think it would be a very powerful curse, since they would have moved through the desert and somehow reached Thebes.”

  “Such a trip would also not have been recent, for they both were laborers. That leaves me with a great number of ifs. Especially since I do not think there are any family curses that could cause the flesh to fall from one’s body.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I think we will have travel to Memphis and the pyramids to determine if it is true.”

  “If you are going there, could I ask you to copy the texts on the legs of the Sphinx and its temple? Our papyrus concerning it appears to have gone missing.”

  “I will gladly do that,” Neti said, before taking her leave and thanking the woman for the sweetmeats.

  Shabaka and Moses settled on the stone seats of the beerhouse. Moses carefully poured them each a cup of beer before taking the flatbread from Shabaka. “Strange, I would have expected Neti to be here already, considering how far we had to walk.”

  “I think the Keeper of the Truth has her captivated by some tale. You know how much he loves to tell them to a willing listener.”

  “I’m certain she will be here soon enough. Just relax,” Moses said.

  “Do you think it was this beerhouse she meant for us to greet?” Shabaka asked.

  “It’s the one we usually meet at,” Moses said, before dipping his flatbread in his beer. “This stuff is as hard as a stone,” he said as he took a bite from his bread.

  “So why not ask Yani for some? You are always going on about how good hers is.”

  Moses shook his head, “Not talking about it.”

  “So there is trouble.”

  “She’s…she’s…let’s just leave it at that.”

  “That bad?”

  “Look, let’s just enjoy our stone-hard bread and beer,” Moses said.

  “Fine by me,” Shabaka replied.

  Just as they finished their bread, a large robust man walked into the beerhouse. All of the patrons fell silent as he passed them. His anger was evident – even at a distance.

  “Looks like we’re in for a fight,” Moses said, as the man looked over the room. He finally looked their way and started to make his way over.

  “Why do you always have to invite trouble?” Shabaka asked, as he remained sitting. He had watched the Pharaoh win numerous arguments by remaining calm and seated, which was what he intended on doing, especially since he was not in the mood for a fight.

  The man came to stand before them and Shabaka noted that although he was stoutly built, he was smaller in size. Neither Shabaka nor Moses had decided who would address the man, but his gaze locked with Shabaka’s. His glare meant to intimidate.

  “Can we help you?” Moses calmly asked, causing the man to shift his gaze from Shabaka to Moses.

  When it became evident that neither would be intimidated, the man outright demanded, “Yes. You can tell me why you were at my home earlier, and why you demanded to speak with my wife.”

  Moses looked at Shabaka and held up his hands, “This one is yours. I’m not getting involved in any fights.”

  The man shifted his gaze back to Shabaka, who gestured for the man to sit down.

  “I’ll stand,” the man said.

  Shabaka then calmly asked, “Where is your wife, Isha?”

  At the sound of his wife’s name the man stiffened, demanding, “How do you know her name?”

  “That is not important. Her welfare, on the other had, is,” Shabaka said, watching the man’s hands.

  “Her welfare?” the man asked with confusion, however h
is stance did not change. “That is why you chose to visit there during my absence? And don’t try to deny it, my son told me you were there and that you would be returning to the beerhouse.” He emphasized the last, which left neither of them in any doubt as to his sentiment about places like that.

  Shabaka appeared to look into his mug, however his attention was fully focused on the man as he replied, “We wanted to ask her some questions about her brothers.”

  “They are the scum of the earth. What more do you need to know?”

  “Even if they were the scum of the earth, as you claim, they have both died mysteriously.”

  “And what would my wife have to do with that?” the man quickly demanded, even before Shabaka’s words had sunk in. Once they had he said, “Wait, they’re dead?”

  “The two bodies have been identified as Kaliph and Xaron. We believe them to be her brothers.”

  “Well heavens above, the gods are merciful in the end,” the man said, his tone easing some.

  “I take it you did not get along with them?” Shabaka calmly asked.

  “What? Those two oafs? Laziest men ever born. You get them good, honest work and they still make trouble.”

  “Excuse me,” a familiar voice said. It caused the man to turn towards Neti, demanding, “What do you want, whore? You have nothing that could tempt me to part with my hard-earned money.”

  Neti lifted an eyebrow and then looked at Shabaka, who had both his fists clenched. “Charming company you keep.”

  The man looked at Neti, noticing her colors, but said noting.

  “If you don’t mind, I would like to join my friends.” Neti said calmly, stepping past him and moving to sit down next to Moses asking, “What have the two of you gotten up to now?”

  “Nothing. We only did as you suggested.”

  “A woman should not speak outside the home,” the man firmly decreed.

  Neti looked at him, a frown marring her forehead. “We all have a right to our own thoughts and beliefs. I will therefore not interfere with yours,” she said dismissively. She then turned towards Shabaka and asked, “Did you manage to find out anything on the two men?”

  Shabaka shook his head. “All we managed to determine was that their sister is still alive.”