The Sacred Scarab (12 page)

‘Enter!’

She burst through the door and saw Hopi sitting with his tutor on the mats.

‘Abana’s guard has come looking for me!’ she managed to say, gasping for breath.

Hopi stared at her. ‘To dance again, you mean?’

‘No!’ She gulped for air, then ran and flung herself down next to her brother. ‘I think it’s because of what I told him.’

‘What you
told
him? Who, the guard?’

‘No, no, Abana,’ cried Isis. ‘I told him we knew about his grain store and how he steals from all the peasants, and he said I had to be silenced. He said he would deal with me, Hopi. Deal with me
some other way
.’ She began to sob.

‘Hush, Isis. Calm down.’ Hopi put an arm around her. ‘Don’t panic.’

Isis hiccuped and dried her eyes. ‘But we have to
do
something.’

‘What’s all this, Hopi?’ asked Menna. ‘Is she speaking of Abana the tax collector?’

Hopi nodded. ‘Yes. You’ve heard of him?’

‘Of course.’ Menna looked grave. ‘What is this about his grain store?’

‘Hopi found it when I went to perform,’ said Isis. ‘Then last night we had to go back. Abana nearly caught me and I told him everything we know . . .’

Menna looked to Hopi for explanation. ‘And what
do
you know?’

‘The grain store in his grounds is vast,’ said Hopi. ‘I mean, really vast. Much too big to house his personal supply. We think it holds grain that he has stolen.’

‘Such is the way of tax collectors,’ said Menna. ‘But I had heard that Abana is worse than most. Now I know it’s true. What else have you discovered?’

‘The rest isn’t clear,’ said Hopi. ‘I saw a man near Abana’s grain store, and I heard him say something about shipments. Then I saw him again at the embalmers’ workshops. Weni told me who he is. Menna, he’s the supplier of natron. He’s the one who’s letting them down!’

.

CHAPTER NINE

Menna began to pace slowly up and down the courtyard.

‘Very interesting,’ he said. ‘Well, it’s clear enough what’s happening. This man you’ve seen is a trader. He takes Abana’s grain north and brings the natron south. That way, he profits from both.’

Hopi thought it over carefully. It was all beginning to make sense. ‘So he sells the grain, then collects natron for the embalmers,’ he said. ‘So why are the embalmers going short?’

‘Trading grain – especially stolen grain – must take time,’ replied Menna. ‘To cover his tracks, Abana probably sells it in small batches. It could take several days to get rid of a whole cargo.’

Hopi frowned. ‘But if it takes so long, why doesn’t the trader hurry up? He told Weni that he wasn’t leaving until tomorrow.’

‘Tomorrow? But that’s the day of the festival!’ cried Isis. ‘Everyone will be celebrating!’

‘Of course!’ exclaimed Hopi. ‘Moving a cargo of grain down to the river is a big job. But tomorrow everyone will be on the other side, on the west bank. No one will notice the grain being loaded.’

Silence fell for a moment.

‘But, Hopi, what are we going to
do
?’ demanded Isis. ‘Abana’s guard is looking for us right now. It won’t take him long to come back. What do you think he wants? What will he do to us?’

Hopi didn’t know what to say. Abana was powerful enough to do anything, but would he really chase after a dance troupe because they knew about his stolen grain?

‘Abana’s powerful, but he’s not stupid,’ said Menna quietly. ‘He won’t want to draw too much attention to himself. Today the king will be arriving from his palace in the north.’

‘So what did the guard come for?’ asked Hopi.

‘I imagine the plan is to buy your silence. That, at least, will be his first resort,’ said Menna. ‘He will no doubt combine it with threats.’

‘But we’d never let him bribe us!’ exclaimed Hopi.

‘Paneb might do it for Sinuhe,’ said Isis.

Hopi was horrified. ‘He couldn’t! That would mean protecting the man who’s stolen Sinuhe’s grain!’ he said.

‘Yes, but Sinuhe wants repayment,’ said Isis. ‘This could be Paneb’s way of getting it for him.’

‘We need time,’ said Menna, breaking through their discussion. ‘We must consider the best way to deal with this. Isis, you should go and give your family warning. Persuade them to resist Abana, if they can.’ He turned to Hopi. ‘Meanwhile, you and I have thinking to do.’

.

Isis ran back through the busy streets, where anticipation about the festival was growing. Women were busy trading the garlands that everyone would wear; boys were dragging great bundles of palm fronds to hand out for people to wave; girls were carrying baskets of lotus flowers and sweet-smelling herbs. The excitement was infectious, in spite of all that was happening.

We’re going to see the king
, Isis thought as she ran.
We’re going to see the king
. . .

She arrived back at her own street and scanned it carefully for Abana’s guard. There was no sign of him as yet, so Isis dived into the house.

‘Nefert! Paneb!’ she called, heading straight for the courtyard.

There was no one there but the two young boys, playing with their toys as usual. Music floated down the stairs; practice had begun. Isis ran to the practice room on the first floor and found the three women in the middle of a melody, while Mut sat on the floor carefully unwrapping the bandage around her ankle.

‘Mut! Have you tried walking yet?’ For a second, Isis forgot what she had come for.

Mut grinned. ‘Yes, I can put my weight on it, I think,’ she said. ‘But I haven’t tried dancing yet. I want to get this thing off first.’

Isis crouched down at once to help her dance partner take off the bandage. Then she helped Mut to her feet as the three women came to the end of their piece.

Nefert looked stern. ‘Wherever have you been, Isis?’ she demanded crossly. ‘You know it’s the festival tomorrow. We’re very behind as it is.’

Suddenly, Isis realised that if anyone would stand up to Abana, Nefert would.

‘Nefert, please don’t be angry,’ she pleaded. ‘I had to go and find Hopi. One of Abana’s guards came looking for me – I saw him on the street.’

At the mention of the tax collector, Nefert’s lips tightened. ‘What did he want?’

Isis bit her lip. ‘Well, I can’t be sure. I got Yuya to send him in the wrong direction.’ She took a deep breath. ‘But Hopi found Abana’s stolen grain and . . . and I told Abana that we knew about it.’

‘Stolen grain?
You
told Abana – but how . . .’

‘Hopi found a big storehouse in the grounds of his mansion. And then we had to go back to look for something,’ Isis explained desperately. ‘Abana nearly caught me, and I blurted out what I knew. Please, Nefert, we have to do something – Menna thinks he’ll try to buy our silence with a bribe but that he might threaten us, too.’

Nefert took a deep breath. ‘I’ve seen how this man behaves,’ she said. ‘He won’t try to
buy
anything. He’s too greedy and cruel for that. Well, Isis, it seems that you and Hopi have brought everything nicely to a head. Who knows, it may even be for the best. We must act quickly. Tell both Paneb and Sinuhe that I want to speak with them at once.’

.

‘The first thing to find out is where the loading will take place,’ said Menna. ‘That’s too active a task for me, I’m afraid. It’s up to you, Hopi.’

Hopi nodded. ‘I’ll start at the embalmers’ workshops. They may be able to point me in the right direction.’ He was still holding the heart scarab. He reached for his linen bag and knotted the precious amulet into one corner. ‘I’ll take this to them at the same time.’

‘Very well,’ said Menna. ‘But be careful. If you must ask for help, choose who you speak to wisely.’

‘I will.’ Hopi shouldered his bag and set off.

His leg felt a little better today, and he made his way quickly through the people milling in the streets. At the workshops, he found Weni watching his assistant at work in the second tent, pulling the brain through the nostrils of a new arrival. The stench was worse than ever. It made Hopi feel sick.

‘Weni,’ he called from the entrance.

The embalmer looked up. ‘Good day to you, Hopi. You got my message, then,’ he said, coming over.

‘Yes, I’ve brought the missing scarab,’ said Hopi.

‘Good. Follow me.’ Weni led the way to the third tent, where Hopi handed over the amulet. Weni summoned Hetep, and they went through the same ritual as before.

‘I wonder if you can help me,’ said Hopi, once the transaction was done. ‘It may be of great help to you, too. I need to find the boat belonging to your supplier of natron.’

‘Really?’ Weni looked surprised. ‘What is it to you, young apprentice?’

‘We suspect him of more than delaying your natron,’ said Hopi. ‘If we track him down, we may uncover a great injustice. But first, I must find his boat.’

‘Very interesting,’ said Weni. ‘It would be a great relief to have this problem solved. Come.’ He led Hopi outside and pointed to the jetty. ‘The boat moors there when it brings us the natron. When it leaves, it goes downriver, towards the north. Perhaps that’s where you’ll find it.’

‘Thank you,’ said Hopi. ‘I hope I’ll soon have good news.’

He followed the little path that led down to the wooden jetty, which jutted out well into the river so that a heavy boat could moor. But there was no sign of the boat now. Hopi set off downstream along the shore, thinking. Abana’s house must be further towards the temples of Ipet-Isut – and, of course, away from the river towards the desert. The most direct route from the tax collector’s grain store to the river would surely end close to here.

The riverbank undulated, and Hopi had to wade through a marshy area where reeds and lotus flowers grew in the shallow water. It was difficult to see ahead through the reeds and Hopi made slow progress, parting them carefully as he went. When he emerged on the other side, he immediately knew he had found what he was looking for. There, up ahead, was a flat cargo boat, pulled in to the side of the river.

The boat seemed to be deserted. Its sails were furled on the two big masts, and there was no one on deck. Hopi stepped back among the reeds again, then followed the marshy area inland up a disused irrigation channel. On the bank, a clump of date palms grew, offering shelter both from the sun and prying eyes. But Hopi could see just enough. Standing in the shade were five donkeys tethered together. And piled in a heap next to them were panniers, perfect for carrying sacks of grain.

Hopi wondered what to do. This could be any cargo boat, any group of donkeys, but that was very unlikely. This was a secret, sheltered mooring and it was in the right place. Eventually, he made his decision, and clambered out of the irrigation channel to take a closer look.

‘Hey!’

Hopi was expecting the shout, and stopped. A man had been lying under the palm trees, and now he got up. He brushed himself down and walked over. To Hopi’s relief, it wasn’t the trader himself, but a rough-looking peasant with rotting teeth.

‘What are you doing here?’ demanded the man.

‘I thought it would be a good place for lotus,’ said Hopi. ‘It’s all been picked further down the river, because of the festival.’

The man grinned. ‘That’s girls’ work.’

Hopi pointed to the scars on his leg. ‘Girls’ work is all I can do,’ he said in a humble voice. Keeping his eyes lowered, he nodded towards the donkeys. ‘I expect they’ll be going to the festival, too, won’t they, sir?’

‘What, my donkeys? Nah.’ The man shook his head. ‘I’ve been given a big job for them here. Pays better than I’ve been paid all year.’

‘Really? Your employer must be rich.’

‘Must be, I suppose. No one in their right mind pays extra to have grain shifted on the day of the festival. Suits me, though.’ The man laughed, exposing his blackened teeth.

‘I wish you luck,’ said Hopi, turning back towards the river.

‘And you, you little lotus-picker!’