Storms and Scarabs

by H. R. Hobbs

  Brock seemed to feel the same. He kept giving Mitch worried glances every second or so.

  As Mitch lay wide awake later that night, Brock snored beside him. The prince’s death and Ammon’s invitation to the palace occupied his thoughts. A number of strange coincidences seemed to be happening, and they all had to do with Ammon. Jabari’s shop becoming the royal embalmers . . . and then the death of the prince right after . . . and now this invitation to the palace? Were they all connected?

  Did Ammon have something to do with the prince’s death?

  Was the high priest capable of murder?

  The invitation to the palace seemed more ominous than before now. Were they putting themselves at risk by going?

  Thankful Jabari would be there, Mitch fell into a troubled sleep.

  Chapter 18

  The next day, Jabari and the boys arrived at the shop earlier than usual. Jabari checked on the pharaoh’s son in the body room. Today, he would begin the embalming process. That would mean the removal of the stomach, liver, intestines, and lungs. After removal, they were placed in the canopic jars Mitch and Brock had unloaded yesterday. The body was then washed and prepared for the drying. The heart remained in the body.

  Mitch was beginning to understand the importance of the steps they went through to ensure a safe journey for their loved ones to the afterlife. But it still made him queasy. Thankfully, Jabari sent Mitch and Brock to the workroom almost immediately. They tore linens as the men worked in the next room.

  A couple hours later, Jabari came into the room.

  “A messenger arrived to say the high priest’s litter will be here shortly. Clean up your area and then go and wash before it arrives.”

  The boys were waiting at the door when the litter arrived. It wasn’t the same one that delivered Ammon to the shop yesterday. This one had no gold decorations or curtains at all. It was a simple wooden box, with two seats inside and six poles for the men to carry them.

  Jabari crawled inside the litter. The boys followed him. Mitch and Brock squeezed together on one side and Jabari sat on the other side, facing them. The litter rose and they began their journey through the streets of Men-nefer.

  It didn’t take long to reach the palace. People, seeing the litter and those who were carrying it, quickly got out of the way as it moved through the streets.

  High Priest Ammon was waiting at the bottom of the stairs at the entrance to the palace when the litter stopped. His face was devoid of expression, but his eyes flared as Jabari was the first to get out. Ammon spoke to Jabari in clipped tones, his displeasure evident. Jabari bowed and spoke quietly to the priest. The priest ignored his words and motioned for the boys to get out. When they were all standing on the steps, Ammon turned, and Jabari and the boys followed him.

  Even with Jabari telling them on the way over what to expect, it was all so overwhelming. Mitch stared in awe at the columns that rose up before them. Able to study them more closely than the day Jabari had showed it to them, Mitch could see each column was adorned with carvings. Figures of what he assumed were pharaohs, interspersed with images of Ra and Anubis. He wanted to stop and inspect the carvings more closely, but Ammon walked farther into the palace.

  “Where are we going?” Brock asked.

  Jabari spoke to the priest, then translated Ammon’s words as they hurried down a long hallway lined with columns. “He wants to show us a view of the city from one of the palace balconies. This is the great room.”

  Large bowls with fires burning inside sat at the base of each column. As the only light source, it cast the area beyond the columns in deep, dancing shadow. Mitch shivered at the eerie glow. Brock and Jabari must have been feeling the same, as they cast furtive glances from side to side.

  Finally, they came to a shorter set of stairs. Mitch strained to see what was before them, but there were no fires burning to light their way. Ammon led them up the stairs and then turned to the right. Faced with another long corridor, Mitch groaned inwardly. But, instead, Ammon turned and walked between two columns on the left.

  They came out into a balcony. A low table with pillows around it was set up in the shade of the building. Gold goblets and a pitcher sat on the table.

  Ammon went to the edge of the balcony and swept his arm out.

  Jabari translated the priest’s words: “From here you can see the city of Men-nefer in all its glory.”

  Mitch stepped to the balcony railing and peered out. Ammon was right: the view of the city went on for miles. He could see smoke rising from the homes, dust billowing in the air from carts, and people moving through the streets.

  “What a view!” Brock said, taking it all in next to Mitch.

  Jabari translated what Brock had said. Ammon looked pleased by the comment. He began to speak as Jabari translated.

  “It is most beautiful. But the palace is in mourning. The death of the prince has come as a shock to everyone. Pharaoh and his Queen will not be seen for some time, as they mourn the loss of their son. That leaves High Priest Ammon to the running of the kingdom as director of the throne.”

  Ammon watched closely for their reaction to the news. When they didn’t seem to understand what he was implying, he continued, Jabari hurrying to keep up with his translation.

  “There is some evidence that the prince’s death was not due to natural causes.”

  Jabari gave the boys a worried look, still translating as Ammon went on.

  “It is not a widely known fact that the prince was not in the best of health, but it appears that he may have been given something that caused his death much faster than we had believed.”

  The boys weren’t sure why Ammon was telling them this. Especially if only a few people knew about the prince’s health.

  “So, why is he telling us?”

  “I’m not sure, Brock,” Jabari answered, giving Ammon an uneasy look.

  Mitch could see that Ammon wanted to know what Brock had said. Not wanting to insult the priest, Jabari said something that seemed to appease Ammon. He spoke to Jabari again. A horrified look came over Jabari’s face. Mitch’s stomach dropped. Ammon spoke and gestured at the boys. Finally, Jabari spoke.

  “Because this is such a difficult time for Pharaoh and his family, High Priest Ammon”—he looked at the priest, who nodded his head—“would like to invite one of you to spend some time at the palace.”

  Both boys burst out:

  “What?”

  “No way!”

  Mitch had a bad feeling about this. How could two apprentices be of any help to the pharaoh?

  Ammon spoke again.

  “It is not actually an invitation . . .” Jabari swallowed. “It is an order. It is his hope that you will be a distraction for Pharaoh as he mourns the loss of his son over the next two months.”

  The boys were speechless.

  Jabari added quietly, “He has asked that it be you, Mitch.”

  Brock stepped forward. “We’re both going.”

  Mitch heard the determination in Brock’s voice. He appreciated him standing up for him, but from the look on Ammon’s face, he wouldn’t agree. Sure enough, Ammon, understanding his meaning, shook his head and pointed one long finger at Mitch.

  Jabari drew the boys closer and spoke so only they could hear. “I know this is upsetting . . . but I think it would be for the best for Mitch to do as the high priest wishes.”

  Mitch knew there was no way that Brock was going to leave him here with the priest.

  “We can’t be separated, Jabari. We need to find a way home and we need to go together.”

  “It will be okay, Brock.” Mitch glanced over Jabari’s shoulder to where Ammon stood with a confident smirk on his face.

  “I don’t like this. There’s something not right about that guy.” Ammon’s face remained the same as Brock gave him a death glare.

  “I agree, but what choice do we have? Besides, what better place for me to be than the palace?” Mitch
was trying to make Brock feel better. Or maybe he was trying to make himself feel better. “You never know. There could be lapis lazuli lying around all over this place.”

  Not that I know where to look, he thought but didn’t say.

  Brock thought for a moment. “Okay . . . but if you’re staying for two months, he has to agree that we get to see each other once a week. That way we can update each other on our plan for getting out of here.”

  Jabari looked unsure, but he said, “I will ask.”

  “No asking. That’s the way it is, or they can throw us in the dungeon or whatever they have here.”

  Sighing, Jabari turned and relayed their demands to Ammon. After a tense moment, he turned back to the boys. “He agrees. One day a week, the litter will come and get you from the shop, Brock, and bring you to the palace to visit Mitch.”

  Now that they had an agreement, the reality of the situation washed over Mitch. He was going to be on his own, without Brock and Jabari to protect him. He wasn’t sure he could navigate royal protocol without them. His intuition told him that whatever Ammon wanted, it wasn’t going to be good for him.

  Ammon led them to the table, where they drank beer. Mitch and Brock grimaced, hating the drink but too afraid to say so. As they choked it down, Ammon told them more about the city. Mitch only half listened to Jabari’s translations. His thoughts were consumed with his monumental task: two months with the high priest . . . two months of being separated from Brock . . . two months to find the lapis lazuli so they could get home.

  You can do it, he told himself. Do it for Brock. Do it for your family.

  After everyone finished their drinks, Ammon stood. Figuring the visit was over, Mitch and Brock slowly got to their feet. They followed Ammon back down the corridor, through the room of columns, to the entrance to the palace.

  As they made their way down the steps, Brock whispered to Mitch, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  Mitch wasn’t, but he replied, “Yes. This might be the only way to get back home.”

  Brock sighed. “I still think it should be both of us.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. But I think you should take this. At least for now. I don’t want to take any chances of Ammon finding it.” Without drawing attention to what they were doing, he slipped the spyglass to Brock. “At least if it’s with you, I know it’s safe.”

  Brock hid the spyglass under his robes.

  Ammon and Jabari waited for the boys at the bottom of the steps.

  “I’ll see you in seven days,” Mitch told Brock.

  “Seven days.” Brock’s voice made it sound like a lifetime.

  They clasped hands and Brock pulled Mitch in for an awkward one-armed hug. Mitch felt his eyes tear up. He’d tried to put up a good front, but he knew he was going to miss Brock. Brock let him go and then climbed into the litter with Jabari.

  Mitch watched as the men picked up the litter and started towards the entrance to the street. He continued to watch until the litter was out of sight. When the litter was no longer visible, Ammon motioned for Mitch to climb the steps again.

  It was then that Mitch realized that not only was his friend gone, but without Jabari, he only had the few words and phrases Rehema had taught him. He knew how to ask where the bathroom was, and how to say “hello,” and the word for “gentle” thanks to Metjen . . . but not much more.

  It was then that he felt the full weight of what he’d gotten himself into.

  After Brock and Jabari left, Ammon showed him to his room. Despite feeling sorry for himself, the sight of it took his breath away. Located in the opposite direction of the balcony, his room was on the left wing of the palace. When Ammon led him through the doorway, all Mitch could see was gold.

  Ammon watched as Mitch stood in the center of the room and slowly turned in a circle. The room had to be the size of his entire house in Fairview. There was a huge bed with curtains. There were chairs and couches. Wooden cupboards with carved panels lined the walls. Light flickered from fires burning in small sconces on the walls, catching the gold on various items and giving the room a warm glow. Incense burned on a table next to his bed. A doorway to the right led to what appeared to be another balcony.

  Mitch was speechless. He felt like King Midas.

  After surveying the room, he turned to Ammon, who was smiling.

  “This is my room?” he asked. It was obvious that Ammon didn’t know what he was saying, so he pointed to himself. “Mih-tuh-chuh’s room?” he said more simply.

  The priest nodded and said something that Mitch didn’t understand. He really should have paid more attention when Rehema was trying to teach them the language. Would Ammon be insulted if he asked him to say it slower and louder?

  Before Mitch could ask him to repeat himself, the priest turned to leave, and Mitch realized he was going to be all alone.

  At the entrance to the room, the priest stopped. He gestured to the doorway. He seemed to be giving Mitch a warning. Was he not allowed to leave? That’s what the priest appeared to be saying.

  Assured that Mitch understood him, Ammon left.

  Mitch flopped on the bed. He may not be in a dungeon, but Mitch was pretty sure he was a prisoner. He never thought he’d wish he was back at Jabari’s, lying on the thin mat, but he did. At least there he wouldn’t feel so alone. He’d have Brock to keep him company. This gave him more things to add to his list of things he missed. He was too sad to get up and look for writing tools, so he made the list in his head:

  Brock

  Jabari

  Rehema

  Sara

  and even Metjen

  The silence of the palace was suffocating. Mitch couldn’t sleep. He rolled over and stared at his new surroundings and, not for the last time, wished he was home.

  Chapter 19

  The next day, Mitch spent some time looking around his new room. Despite getting next to zero sleep, he had to admit it was much softer than the one at Jabari’s. The blankets were like a cloud. It was tempting to lay on the bed and close his eyes and forget about the mess he was in. But, instead, he went out to the balcony. It was set up exactly like the one Ammon had taken them to yesterday. Cushions surrounded a low table. Even though it was on the other side of the palace, Mitch still had a majestic view of the city.

  With nothing to do, Mitch watched the hustle and bustle of the city below. The marketplace was busy with vendors shouting their wares and customers bartering for the best price. Carts of vegetables pulled by people or animals wove through the streets. In the distance, slabs of limestone moved like snails up the side of an unfinished pyramid. That was one thing to be thankful for: at least they weren’t hauling slabs of limestone up a huge ramp. As Mitch took in his surroundings, he wished that Brock were here to share it with him. He didn’t know how he was going to get through the next seven days by himself.

  Someone cleared their throat behind him, jolting Mitch out of his daydream.

  A man he assumed to be a servant stood in the doorway to the balcony. In his hands was a tray with a number of bowls on it. The man said something. At Mitch’s confused look, he gestured with his chin to the table. Realizing the food was for him, Mitch nodded. The man placed the food on the table and left without another word.

  There was enough food on the tray laid out before him to feed Jabari’s entire family. You’d never know that the kingdom was suffering from a drought. Mitch was thankful he recognized some of the food on the tray. Some of the bowls contained food he didn’t recognize, so he avoided them. One looked like it contained some dried-up fruit. Picking up some thin bread, he added some cheese and olives, putting another piece of bread on top. He looked at his sandwich and immediately his feelings of loneliness came back. As he bit into the sandwich, he imagined it to be the gooey sweetness of peanut butter and honey, not the sharp tang of olives and cheese. He washed it down with the juice in the small pitcher on the tray.

  At least it�
��s not beer, he thought.

  Finished with his meal, he went back into his room and looked around more closely. He sat on the couch. The hardness was nothing like his couch at home. He looked in the cabinets, but they contained nothing. Bored, Mitch went to the doorway of his room.

  There was no one in the hallway. Mitch thought about the warning that Ammon had given him before he left. At least, he was pretty sure it had been a warning. If he was a guest here, why did he have to remain in his room? What would it hurt if he did a little exploring? Unless Ammon didn’t want anyone to know he was here? But that didn’t make sense—the pharaoh had invited him. The pharaoh wouldn’t mind if he wandered around a little. Having convinced himself that a quick look around the palace wouldn’t hurt, he slipped out into the corridor.

  When Ammon had brought him to his room, he’d been so shocked he hadn’t had time to check his surroundings. The corridor was dimly lit with wall sconces every few feet. Between the sconces, murals like the ones in the great room decorated the walls. He stopped and tried to make sense of the symbols and images carved in the wall.

  He’d picked up enough during his time here to recognize the eye of Ra, Anubis the dog, and Horus the falcon. The eye of Ra was one of the symbols on the spyglass. Trying to remember some of the others, he studied the wall. It was hard to make out the symbols in the flickering shadows. Mitch wished he had a flashlight.

  He was about to move on to the next section of symbols when he heard voices coming from the end of the corridor. He dashed back to the doorway of his room. The voices appeared to have stopped. Curious, he peered around the corner.

  Ammon stood at the end, talking with two guards. Mitch knew they were guards because they were outfitted in armour. Each carried a shield and a spear. Long swords hung at their waists. Ammon pointed down the corridor. Mitch tucked his head back, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping.