“You found out where Merenptah had gone from the ADD!” Alex smacked his hands down onto the arms of his chair out of frustration. The article had been written whilst he was in London, being taught by Dr Margretti.
“Yes, it is my monthly must-read. Especially now that it comes in the form of a quality glossy magazine. A great improvement on the old newspaper where the ink used to come off on my fingers. Anyway, after reading the article I decided that I must go and check this out for myself.”
“In the time of Cleopatra?”
“No, in the time of Psusennes.”
“Sorry, David, I think I’m missing something here.”
“Until I read the article I had only ever entered Tanis in the time of Cleopatra. Because of the article I hunted and eventually found the only way into Tanis in the time of Psusennes. All very enlightening!”
“Please enlighten me, because right now I am really confused.”
“Look at it this way. The ancient Greeks are hedonistic by nature: drinking, eating, touching. They are not into gambling, some are of course, but the ancient Egyptians are in a big way. Psusennes high-roller area, where he keeps the best of everything, only ever accepts silver as payment. It keeps the riffraff out, those who can only pay in gold.” David paused, so that Alex could laugh at his quip. Alex dutifully did. David continued, “So, in one way you are correct. All the silver in Luxor is being bought up by Merenptah, though all the other usual high-rollers still want their silver, hence the acute shortage throughout Egypt. Whatever silver Merenptah can get his hands on he is losing to Psusennes in Tanis. He is not buying gold with it, he is feeding his addiction.”
“Surely high-rollers would use gold, and why would Greeks let an Egyptian do what he is doing for silver, cheap silver?”
“Trust me, when you have been into Psusennes’, whatever you wish to call it, it is like nothing on earth.”
“But how does Cleopatra make anything out of this when silver is so cheap?”
“Because, as I found to my cost, her soldiers will only let you through to the time of Psusennes if you pay her extortionate taxes.”
“Taxes paid in gold?”
“Exactly! She is happy to keep Psusennes here because he works cheap and the gold collected runs her city.”
“But it was that cheap little silver box,” Alex pointed to tourist silver box David had placed on the table between them, “that got us in here, yet it is worthless.”
“On the contrary, the trading of silver is banned here upon Cleopatra’s royal orders, because she is worried that her people will like Tanis in Psusennes’ time more than in her time. So it becomes a very important commodity, on the black market, for those from her time who wish to avail themselves of Psusennes’ hospitality.”
“Nice way of putting it.”
David smirked. He really had had too much to drink. “To somebody like me who can bring trinkets like this in from our time undetected. A little silver goes a very long way.”
“How did I get it so wrong? Merenptah has a serious gambling addiction, and Psusennes still cannot get his hands on enough silver.”
“That’s easy to answer. Just ask your father.” David took more wine. Apart from the few sips Alex had taken, David had nearly finished the whole bottle and this was a large bottle. A litre and a half, or thereabouts.
Alex was confused, but David was now so much more interesting and relaxed. Wine or surroundings, he suspected the wine, but it was a great improvement. “Why ask my father?”
“Archaeologist! They always find what they want to find. That’s what you did.”
“Sorry, I don’t get it.”
“Archaeologists have theories before they ever think of going out on a dig. They never go digging to discover random ancient artefacts of unknown nobodies, they go digging to discover ancient artefacts which prove Cleopatra once sat here or the great Ramses dined there. When they unearth some potsherds–”
“Potsherds?”
“Fragments.”
“Oh, I see.”
“Anyway, they unearth these pot … fragments … and without any provenance the archaeologist shouts to the world that his theory is correct.”
“They make the find fit exactly what they want it to fit.”
“Exactly, Alex. And that is what you did. You had many pieces of a puzzle. Your failing was that you felt that you had to fit all the pieces into the same puzzle. Life is just not like that.”
“They all appeared to fit.”
“They didn’t, and you know that they didn’t. I could tell that from the way you told me of your theory. You made the pieces fit.” David’s mood instantly changed and he had raised his voice for the first time. “I lost my best friends because I made the pieces fit,” he said with his voice now shaking with anger. “You must learn quicker than I did if you are not going to get your friends killed.” His head dropped as rather despairingly he mumbled, “You must, you really must!”
“But they did appear to fit at the time.”
“Rubbish!”
Alex was rather taken aback by the response. David’s last glass of wine had tipped him over the edge.
“Don’t look at me like that, Alex, because you know you made them fit. Don’t you dare sit there and attempt to defend the indefensible, because that is what gets good people killed.” David’s voice trailed off as he said, “Good people, really good people,” but it was soon back at full volume. “Then you will not be able to live with yourself, it will ruin your life. Just as it has ruined mine!”
“Sorry,” Alex said, realising that David was projecting his own trauma.
“If you cannot make a solid link, one you are positive of, then do not use those pieces. I tell you, do not use those snippets of information to base any plan on. Keep them in mind until either you can positively fit them into place, or until you know enough to be able to discard them.” David was on a roll and Alex, like it or not, knew he was right. “You had serious doubts about your theory of ancient gold being bought with modern silver, yet you ran with it. How, Alex … just tell me how ancient gold could be made legal for export with cheap tourist silver?” David almost broke his empty glass as he banged it down on the table. As if to emphasise David’s point the little silver box jumped into the air. “It couldn’t be made legal. Deep inside you knew that, yet you stubbornly refused to take it out of your theory. I got my best friends killed by taking far too many random pieces and fitting them all into the same jigsaw. Just because the warlock is dead it doesn’t mean that there are not real dangers out there, extreme dangers out there, and Cleopatra is one of the most extreme dangers you will ever face.” David’s head slumped into his hands. He cried like a baby.
Chapter 23
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I Can’t Get Involved
Alex had initially protested at the thought of leaving David in the state he was in. Tara had assured him that David would be okay; an assurance which had been given with such caring confidence that Alex was now willingly following her. She had also stressed that David would soon be as ‘right as rain’ and would be re-joining him shortly. True or not, she spoke with confidence. Alex was just wondering how many times David had had to relive the horrors of his youth, when, as he followed Tara into the room she had guided him to, he heard a very familiar voice.
“I told them not to serve him that cheap wine.”
“But, my Pharaoh, it is not cheap wine,” Thoth said in his trill bird like voice as he flicked through his notes. “I have it quite clearly written here. The last time you bought that particular wine it cost you–”
“Shut up, Thoth.”
“But it does say quite clearly, and I would never make a mistake where money is concerned. In fact, if my memory serves me correctly, I have never made a mistake.”
“Well, you are making one now … Bird! I wonder if roast ibis is on the menu today? … Excellent timing, Tara. Could you find out for me if roast ibis is on the menu, because if not, it soon will be!”
>
“Shutting up, my Pharaoh, though feeling somewhat nervous right now.”
“Will it ever change between the two of you?” Alex asked as he raced over to give Ramses the biggest hug. This was not something he would normally have done, and had he thought about it he would not have done it now. However, it felt good, and Ramses, who had stood to welcome Alex, hugged him back. Upon separating, Alex greeted Thoth, the ancient god, the scribe which every pharaoh had. His head was that of an ibis with its distinctive long curved beak. When depicted in ancient temples and tombs Thoth was shown to have the body of a very thin, though reasonably tall, man, and this was also how Alex knew him, yet before him stood a 1.8-metre-tall ibis. Long thin legs with very knobbly knees sat below a small though plump body of feathers with stubby wings that were being used as arms. One holding a papyrus, a single sheet of papyrus, though Thoth was able to flick from papyrus to papyrus as if he was holding a book. The other wing held a quill, though it did not actually hold a quill, it guided a quill, because the tip of the wing and the quill failed to connect.
Ramses was Ramses. Once seen, never forgotten. He was dressed informally, though his status, brutality, and compassion, shone through. These were not contradictions, they combined to form the greatest pharaoh Egypt had ever known. Alex truly admired him. He thought as he sat that this precise moment was exactly how he would always want to picture Ramses: sitting – very slightly reclined – in a really comfy chair, holding a three quarter full glass of his beloved red wine, and with a look which registered his pleasure at seeing Alex. Beside Ramses the opened wine bottle sat on a slim ebony table. It glowed ruby red from the tall flame of a short stocky candle. This sat upon an ornate gold base, just to one side of, though slightly behind, the bottle.
The only thing wrong with this perfect picture was Thoth. Any picture of Ramses would have to have Thoth somewhere in the background, though not a feathered Thoth. Alex pointed back over his shoulder. “David is here, though he is rather upset. Anyway, what are you doing here? I was told that you couldn’t get involved.”
“Me … oh … I am not involved with anything. Just relaxing and enjoying my wine … and of course, now, the company.” He said this with a mischievous glint in his eye, though this only lasted a millisecond as there was obviously something troubling the great pharaoh.
Alex took in the room. It was identical to the one he had just left.
“Every room here is identical,” Ramses said after watching Alex’s eyes follow around the room. “They all have different names, yet the names do not appear anywhere. It is a very clever way of giving clientele the feeling of being important.”
“They always have ‘their’ room waiting for them.”
“Exactly!”
“What have you done to Thoth?” Alex was forced to ask. Even though his mind was full of far more important questions he was unable to concentrate. Partly because the overgrown feathered Thoth was such a strange sight, though mostly because Thoth was doing everything he could think of to draw Alex’s attention to his situation.
“Oh, him! Shall I tell Alex what you did, Thoth?”
“I would much rather you did not, my Pharaoh.”
“I bet you would!”
“Well, if the truth were to be told, it was neither my idea nor my fault. I did–”
Ramses raised a hand, and Thoth knew better than to continue speaking. “Forget him, Alex. It is only a short punishment. He will soon be back to the annoying scribe he used to be.”
“When exactly?” Alex had to ask.
“In fifty or a hundred years. I haven’t quite made up my mind.” Alex gasped. “As I said, it is only a short punishment this time.”
“You have made him dress like a bird before.”
“Of course. Though he is not dressed like a bird, he is a bird.”
“Please, Ramses, just for me, can you turn him back to how he should be?” Alex randomly gestured with his hands in the direction of Thoth. “I really cannot concentrate with him looking like this.”
“Okay, Thoth, thanks to Alex here your punishment is over,” Ramses said this without taking his eyes off of Alex.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Thoth repeated over and over again as he slowly returned to being a tall slim man with the head of an ibis.
“Now shut up, or I may change my mind.”
“Shutting up, my Pharaoh, shutting up right now.” Thoth’s quill continued to scribble away on the papyrus as his wings turned back into hands. At no point did the quill rest, yet, now only the middle finger of his static left hand remained in close proximity to the very end of it.
“That is better, thank you,” Alex said.
“You are most welcome.”
There was something about Ramses’ demeanour. Despite his attempt to look relaxed Alex could see that he was here for a purpose, so he tried the same question again. “I thought you were unable to get involved?”
Ramses swirled his glass of red wine with excessive force. Nothing more than sheer luck stopped the contents from being liberally sprayed around the room. “I hate to admit it, Alex, and it pains me to have to admit it, but I cannot get involved, though I am already involved!”
Alex felt somewhat confused. He wondered if it was the red wine. He had not taken much, just a few sips, but he was not used to drinking wine. “Is there any chance of having a coffee?”
Ramses turned to look behind. “Did you, Thoth?”
“Yes, my Pharaoh, Tara will be bringing coffee in after she has finished with David.”
“Not before you give her the signal, I trust!”
“Oh no, I have made her well aware that she must wait for the signal.” He flicked through a few pages of papyrus. “It says so quite clearly, right here.”
“Good, then, Alex, it is vital we talk about David right now.”
“Is he the reason why you are here?”
“Yes, one reason. The family are deeply concerned for him, for his mental wellbeing.”
“Kate?”
“Of course Kate. When is it not Kate!” He paused, then smirked. “That is what you expected me to say, so I said it. Only this time the problem started long before Kate was able to bring her attitude into the life of anyone. This is wholly about David, though,” Ramses shook his head, “his reunion with his daughter has been anything except a success. Dismal and failure are the two words which immediately spring to mind.” Alex went to speak, but Ramses gestured for him not to, before putting his glass down and leaning forward: elbows on knees, hands tented under his chin. “I know David is not your top priority, but let us clear this matter up once and for all.”
“Of course.”
“Thank you, Alex.”
Alex was rather taken aback by the appreciation, the level of feeling that Ramses had put into his ‘thank you’. Immediately he realised this was not only important to the family, on an extremely personal level it was of the utmost importance to the pharaoh. Alex decided there and then to agree with whatever Ramses asked of him. No questions asked.
“David and many others sacrificed so much in order to …” Unusually for Ramses he was lost for words. He was also showing every sign of trying to supress intense emotion.
Only now did Alex comprehend the true magnitude of the events which must have taken place, events which had left David the only survivor. He was sure that he could see tears welling up in the great pharaoh’s eyes. Here, sitting before him, was a pharaoh who had won major battles, had faced death many times, far too many times in life, yet here, in the afterlife, he was showing as much emotion for David as he did about unjustly sending his own daughter away. A daughter who lived her life at Amarna. Puzzle pieces started to fall into place. “Why don’t you tell me exactly what you wish me to do? Honestly, Ramses, I do not need to know the details. I totally trust your judgement and will do whatever you wish of me.”
“I wish … no … I want you, I need you to tell Kate that she will never see her father ever again.” This
was not at all what Alex had been expecting to hear, far from it! “I need you to get it through to her, make her really understand that there is no point looking for him, because where David is going she will not be able to follow. I know that I ask a great deal of one so young, but that is what I need you to do.”
Alex’s ancient memories were not helping him, though this was a puzzle where the pieces fitted. He did not have to juggle them, manipulate them, or cut them to fit … they fitted. He thought of Ramses’ banished daughter, Henuttawy. She had been banished – so very unfairly by Ramses, yet for the good of his people – from Egypt, but she had spent her natural life living at Amarna, thanks to Gadeem.
David, when he could have chosen anywhere, was drawn to Amarna as a place to be safe from the warlock. This was already starting to be too much of a coincidence. Alex then factored in Henuttawy and her closest living relative, Emmy. Nakhtifi and his closest living relative, Kate. David was Kate’s father. Alex had not seen it before, but he did now. Somewhere through the generations the lives of Henuttawy and David had become intertwined. Ancients, moderns, a few years ago or thousands of years ago, there was a connection, an intimate connection.
Alex suddenly became aware of Ramses looking to him for an answer. “I can do that,” he said rather hastily and without conviction.
“Are you sure, Alex, are you really sure?”
“Look … Kate will lose her temper with me, she will hit me, it is her way, but, YES, I will do this for you … for the family.”
A mighty weight lifted from Ramses. The tension in his body relaxed, he leaned back in his chair and actually took a gulp of his wine. He enjoyed it. “Thank you, Alex.” His glass soon emptied.
The door opened and in walked Tara with coffee especially for Alex. He opened his mouth to ask where David was, but closed it without uttering a word. He realised that with his agreement to tell Kate that she will never see her father again, none of them would. David was already in the process of being whisked away to wherever he was going.
Gold of the Ancients Page 19
