Eye of the Moon (7 page)

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Authors: Dianne Hofmeyr

BOOK: Eye of the Moon
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I held up the lamp. “What do you see?”

He was silent.

“Tuthmosis . . . ?”

“My father's tomb.”

“It can't be.”

He turned toward me. “It is! I played here while it was being built. I came when he inspected it with his chief vizier. I watched the vaults being carved into the mountain, the walls being smoothed, the sculptors at work, the artists as they painted, and the scribes writing holy spells on the walls. It took more than ten years. It's
his
tomb!”

I squinted through the lamplight at him. “How can you be so sure? It could be any king's tomb. They all look the same.”

He gave me a look. “Do you think I don't know the exact details of my own father's tomb? His sarcophagus is carved of red granite.”

I shook my head. “A sarcophagus is
always
carved from graphite.”

“His wasn't!”

“Let me see.” I pushed him aside and began squeezing through the narrow opening.

He grabbed hold of my tunic. “Stop! Don't dare enter.”

“Why not?”

“You'll destroy the tomb's sanctity. My father won't reach the afterlife.”

I turned fiercely. “It's our only escape. From the tomb there'll be a passageway back to Thebes, surely. We
have
to enter.”

Tuthmosis stared back. In the lamplight his blue eyes reflected like cold moonstones. For a moment I hesitated. Then I tossed my head. “You have to trust me,” I said, and as an afterthought I added, “And you might ask my name.”

He shrugged his shoulders impatiently. “What is it?”

“Isikara. And you should know—just because you're the son of a king doesn't make me your slave.”

Our eyes stayed locked. Then he said my name slowly. “Isikara . . . we both have to learn to trust each other.” He turned and went ahead.

I followed him through the opening, edging my way into the darkness, keeping one hand on the wall, feeling the sharp stone under my fingertips.

There in the lamplight stood the silent sarcophagus. My breath caught. The prince had been right. It was red. Red as oxblood.

I shuddered, thinking of what lay inside. The
golden mummy case, and within it another golden case, and another and another until in the final one, the mummy of King Amenhotep, wrapped in the finest of linens, decked with jewels, his arms across his chest holding the golden pharaoh's crook, his face covered with a golden mask, on his forehead the cobra ready to strike.

We were standing in the very heart of the burial vaults of Thebes. Beyond our tiny pool of light, the darkness stretched upward to a ceiling painted deep blue and scattered with stars. Around us, other vast, empty spaces disappeared into thick blackness.

Tuthmosis turned abruptly. His footsteps echoed against some stone steps that led between two huge square pillars into an area with more pillars. I jumped back as King Amenhotep loomed in front of us, staring straight into my eyes. He wore a magnificent girdle belt set with real lapis lazuli and turquoise. A shining gold and obsidian pectoral plate hung against his chest. On his brow was the striking cobra. Written above were these words:

Beware the cobra goddess who guards the royal king and his treasures. The cobra goddess anoints his head
with her flames. Through her, the terror that he inspires is made more. Such is her power!

She sat on the pharaoh's brow with her hood flaring, ready to spit poison at all his enemies. Ready to burn them with her fiery glare. But she was a fickle goddess. Not just the defender of the pharaoh. She could be
against
him as well. Her bite could cause the pharaoh's death.

As I stood there, I felt I was calling up her anger. I clasped my arms quickly across my chest and held my hands to my throat for protection against her deadly bite.

“Hurry, Isikara!”

On another wall Hathor was drawing Amenhotep along, wearing an exquisite dress of turquoise beads clinging in a cloudlike net to the curves of her body, carrying the moon on her head, a turquoise broad collar around her neck, flaring cobras with burning carnelian eyes dangling dangerously from her ears. I begged her for protection as I passed.

Beyond her, my eye caught a glimmer and sparkle of things in great heaps in some side chambers.

Tuthmosis saw my glance. “It's my father's treasure.
His gold chariot for his ride across the heavens. His gold bark to carry him along the river of the Underworld. His throne embellished with ivory, bloodstones, and lapis lazuli. His gilded cheetah bed. His servants are all there, too, sculpted in terra-cotta, and his gold hunting bow, along with a gold statue of his favorite hunting dog embedded with emerald eyes.”

“So much?” My whisper echoed into the dark spaces.

“Even more. Rolls of fine linen, leopard-skin cloaks, gold-bladed jewel-encrusted daggers, headrests made of glass, chests filled with golden goblets, scarabs, amulets, necklaces, bracelets, breastplates, rings set with stones of every shade of the rainbow, alabaster jars filled with the best wine and olive oil and caskets of ox and goose meat. Not just his favorite chariot. More than six chariots. All has been catered for.” Tuthmosis nodded toward some paintings of men bearing gifts. “The princes of Syria, Palestine, Babylon, and Nubia lavished him with turquoise, amethysts, perfumed oils, gold, ivory, and skins. And here it all is!” He swept his arm around the darkness.

We entered into a passageway and were prevented from going farther by a well shaft carved into a sharp right turn. The shaft was flush with the walls and wide enough to prevent anyone from jumping across it. Its sides fell straight down into the heart of the mountain. Deep below, I caught an oily black reflection of water. There were no footholds to give access to the opposite side.

“How'll we cross?”

“Stone slabs originally bridged the gap. They've been removed to prevent anyone from reaching my father's treasure. But there's another secret way out. My father sculpted a series of vaults, with sliding doors and secret passageways meant only for his trusted vizier so he could enter and inspect the well and ensure it collected and prevented water from running down the passages into the burial chamber.”

“It can't be so secret if workmen knew of it.”

“Each team of builders worked on only a section of the secret labyrinth. No one but my father's vizier knew the final plan.”

“No one but the vizier and
you
!”

Tuthmosis ducked behind a small pillar. A statue of Anubis glared at us from a niche. A metal collar
around Anubis's neck was linked by a heavy chain to a metal ring in the stone floor. The prince pushed against the niche and it swung open.

“A secret door?”

He nodded. “It swings back to rest in place again.” He was about to allow it to shut behind us.

“Wait! What about my father? How'll he know it's a secret door?”

Tuthmosis pulled off one of his sandals and wedged it in place so that a small gap showed.

I'd lost track of time. It was hard to tell how long we'd been in the passageways. Perhaps more than a day, even. “My father should've caught up with us by now.”

But Tuthmosis was already hurrying ahead. We were in a cavern of chambers with crypts and niches and winding passages leading into darkness in every direction. Our lamp had no way of casting light in such a vast space. Vaults and stairs and images of gods and statues receded into the gloom. Nothing moved. Just deathly silence.

I knew about labyrinths. They were complicated spaces planned to protect burial chambers. Passageways wound backward and forward in bewildering
patterns meant to confuse. Doorways showed the way ahead and at the same time tricked a thief to go back along the same passage. Once, Katep and I had secretly entered one but hadn't dared to go beyond the first chamber.

“Which way?” I whispered.

“Here.” Tuthmosis guided my hand across a stone wall. I felt three indentations on the corner of the wall.

“I carved these at every point where a decision has to be made. The passageway goes all the way to the Great River so my father's
ka
can escape into the afterlife.”

Tuthmosis edged forward and I followed close behind him, my heart thumping in my ears. It wasn't as easy as he made out. I had a moment of doubt each time he felt for the three marks. This wasn't the game he'd played as a child, where he could call out and his father's vizier would come. In the twists and turns of the labyrinth, we could be lost forever.

As we came through a doorway there was a terrifying rumble—as if the entire labyrinth was collapsing. It echoed through the passageways. I clutched Tuthmosis's arm. “What's that? Are we trapped?”

He shook his head and held up the lamp to show me some ropes. “It's a trick to scare thieves. I'd forgotten about it. The sound is made by rocks rolling in a stone jar that falls from a pulley. We triggered the pulley as we passed through the doorway.”

As we groped our way along, the air in the passageway suddenly seemed fresher. I knew we were near the end when a scent of papyrus mixed with the smell of sun-baked earth suddenly came wafting toward me. A glimmer of light ahead drew me on. I stumbled ahead of Tuthmosis and began running toward the brightness. It had to be our escape. We were free at last.

I stopped short. There was the opening that would lead us out of the labyrinth, but a metal grid barred the way. I rushed forward and gripped the shiny rods and shook as hard as I could. It felt as if someone were throttling me.

“It's useless!” I shouted over my shoulder.
Useless . . . useless . . .
I heard my voice echo back into the darkness. I sank to the ground. “We're locked in . . .
locked in
! We're here forever . . .
forever
!”

   
6
   
THE FESTIVAL
OF SOPHET

T
uthmosis came up behind me.

“Shh!” he hissed. “Are you trying to get us caught? Someone will hear you!” He felt along a hidden ledge and brought out a key in the shape of an ankh. “Only my father's vizier and I know about this.”

I spun around to face him. “But you couldn't have been
sure
it was there, could you? You took a risk! A curse of locusts on you, Tuthmosis! Why didn't
you warn me?” My voice was coming out in gasps. I wanted to shake him.

“I said we had to trust each other.” He fitted the key into a lock and turned. The grid swung open. “Now listen! This leads into the grounds of the palace near my father's mortuary temple. We can't stay in Thebes. If what you say about Wosret is true, it's too dangerous. We need a boat to travel upstream toward Nubia, beyond the borders of Egypt.”

I shot a look at him. “Nubia? That far?” Suddenly I was fearful. The passageway had been a link to my father. I'd listened for his footsteps, but I hadn't given a thought to what we would do afterward when we escaped. I glanced back into the darkness behind us. I was truly leaving him behind. He'd never find me in Nubia. “Do we have to go
that
far?”

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