Sting of the Scorpion (12 page)

“Come, Highness.” Ramose felt the vizier’s insect fingers clutch at his arm. Ramose hesitated, unable to believe that the man he had feared all his life was now on his side. Then he remembered the oracle’s words—trust the crocodile. Karoya pushed him from behind.

“Hurry, Ramose.”

Ramose ran, spurred on by the vizier in front and Karoya behind. Three palace guards marched towards them at one stage, but the vizier ordered them to search the river for the missing slaves. Ramose’s head was spinning. There had to be another explanation for this. It had to be a trap. It wasn’t possible that the vizier was helping him.

They reached the hall. Tuthmosis was seated on the throne. He now had a deep collar made of gold and turquoise resting on his shoulders. His arms were crossed over his chest. In one hand he held the royal crook, in the other the flail. The falcon-headed priest placed the white crown on his head. The Seth-beast priest placed the red crown on top of it. Together they formed the double crown of all Egypt. Ramose opened his mouth to shout out an objection. At that moment a ray of sunlight shot down from one of the high windows. The light illuminated the dust and incense smoke in its path, turning them into beautiful golden specks and swirls. The golden ray fell on Tuthmosis’s head.

“Hail Tuthmosis,” said the high priest. “King of Upper Egypt, King of Lower Egypt, Chosen of Ra, Beloved of Amun, strong in truth, protector of Egypt, subduer of her enemies.”

Everyone in the hall responded. “Hail Tuthmosis.”

Ramose walked up towards the platform. Like everyone else, his eyes were on Tuthmosis. The boy seemed to have grown in the short time Ramose had been out of the hall. The sunlight reflected on the gold of the crook and the flail and the snakehead on the double crown. It turned Tuthmosis’s skin to gold as well. He no longer looked frightened.

Ramose realised he was too late. The gods had selected their pharaoh. It was stupid of him to think that he could have influenced the will of the gods. He kept walking until he was at the foot of the platform. Priests started forward to grab him. Tuthmosis stood up.

“Leave him alone,” he said. Even his voice was stronger.

The priests obeyed their pharaoh and let Ramose approach the platform. Tuthmosis held out the crook to Ramose, offering it to him. Ramose walked up the two steps.

“Hail Tuthmosis,” he said so that everyone could hear him. “Pharaoh of all Egypt.”

He knelt at his brother’s feet. The oracle’s final words echoed in his mind—bow down before the frog.

“You are Pharaoh, Pegget,” Ramose said in a quieter voice so that only his brother could hear him. “It is the will of the gods. I am here to serve you.”

“Are you sure, Ramose?” asked Tuthmosis. “Is this what you want?”

Ramose nodded.

“But what will become of you? What will you do?”

“Might I suggest, Highness, that Prince Ramose be proclaimed as your adviser?”

Ramose and Tuthmosis turned. It was the vizier, who had slipped back into his position on the platform. There was a murmur of surprise in the hall as people realised who Ramose was.

Both boys nodded.

“Swear him in immediately, Vizier Wersu,” said Tuthmosis.

The high priest opened his mouth to object.

“High Priest,” said Tuthmosis in his new commanding voice. “Say a prayer to bless my adviser.”

The high priest bowed in obedience. The vizier muttered a few important sounding words. The high priest said a blessing. Tuthmosis raised Ramose to his feet.

“Hail Ramose, Fan-bearer on the Right of the Pharaoh,” said the vizier.

The crowd responded. “Hail Ramose.”

Not everyone joined in the response this time. Ramose could see his sister and Queen Mutnofret staring at him with tightly closed mouths.

Tuthmosis climbed back onto the chair and was carried out into the sunlight. Four geese were released symbolising that news of the new pharaoh was to be carried to the four quarters of heaven. The pharaoh himself was to be taken across the river and carried around the walls of the Temple of Amun, so that the people of Thebes could honour him. After that he would have to travel throughout the land so that all Egyptians would know that chaos and disaster had been averted. Egypt had a new pharaoh.

Ramose lay on the bed in a guestroom in the palace, trying to make sense of everything that had happened. After months of endless waiting, after weeks of wandering about Egypt at a snail’s pace, his world had changed in a matter of hours. He stared up at the bulls’ heads painted on the ceiling. His dream of becoming the pharaoh was over. His half-brother was now king of all Egypt. Keneben, the tutor who had risked his life for him before, now served his sister. He still hadn’t spoken to Hatshepsut, and now he wasn’t sure if he wanted to.

There was a knock at the door and Vizier Wersu entered. That was another thing he’d been trying to come to terms with. This man, who, since his childhood, Ramose had considered to be his worst enemy, had turned out to be a friend.

“I have been unable to arrange a meeting with your sister, Your Excellency,” he said, bowing.

Ramose sat up. “Where is she?”

“She has left for the women’s palace again. She won’t return until your father’s funeral.”

“Sit down, Vizier. There are some questions I’d like to ask you.”

The vizier gathered his robes over one arm and sat down on a stool.

“What is it you want to know, Highness?”

“How exactly did you discover that I was still alive?”

The vizier smiled his crocodile smile. “I have spies all over Egypt. A little gold can be very persuasive. I heard that Keneben had hidden someone in a temple and then I learned that he was secretly arranging a position for an apprentice scribe in the Great Place.”

“Why didn’t you come and get me back then?”

“I believed Keneben’s plan was a sound one. You were far safer there than in the palace. I had tried to keep an eye on you, but I did not know that Queen Mutnofret would stoop to murder. If Keneben and your nanny had not taken the precautions they did, you would have been poisoned.”

“What about when I left the Great Place?”

“I lost track of you, I am afraid. I had people searching the country, but they couldn’t find you. It wasn’t until I heard news of tomb robbers in Lahun that my spies tracked you down. And then you slipped through their fingers again. Your skills at staying hidden are very impressive.”

Ramose laughed. “There was no skill involved. I was just blundering around the country getting into trouble at every turn.”

“Praise Amun, you are safe now.”

Ramose looked at the vizier. “Why did you go to so much trouble to help me?”

“I serve the royal family,” said the vizier. “You were the future pharaoh. It was my job to tend to your welfare.”

“Did you suspect Queen Mutnofret?”

“No, Highness. I underestimated her. I wasn’t concerned for your life, just your happiness. When your mother died and then your brothers, I could see that these losses affected you more than your sister. I did what I could to make them easier to bear.”

“I had no idea.”

“I convinced Pharaoh to delay your military training. I stopped him from taking Keneben to Punt with him. I saw to it that Heria, your nanny, stayed in the palace long after her duties were finished.”

“It’s hard for me to believe you have been looking out for me all this time. I thought you were my enemy.”

“It was necessary to be stern. I knew you had a difficult path ahead of you.” The vizier shook his head. “I didn’t know just how difficult.” Wersu stood up with a sigh. He looked old and tired.

“I’m sorry I didn’t recognise your concern, Vizier. I was a selfish boy then.”

“In the end I failed you. You were exposed to great danger. You did not take your rightful place on the throne.”

“It is the will of the gods, Vizier.”

“Aren’t you disappointed, Ramose?” asked Karoya, as she walked down to the palace wharf with Ramose two days later.

“No,” replied Ramose. “This is what was meant to be.”

“But all the time I’ve known you, you’ve been working towards taking your place as the pharaoh. It’s what you lived for.” She stopped and looked at Ramose. “If you hadn’t rescued me, you would be the pharaoh now.”

Ramose shook his head. “The gods decide who will be the pharaoh, not lesser queens, not even royal princes.”

“And you’re not unhappy?”

“No,” said Ramose, smiling at Karoya. She was wearing a beautiful gown and shawl made of blue cloth. It wasn’t in the style of Egyptian clothing. It had been especially made for her in the style of the people of Kush.

“The only thing I regret is that my sister has become a stranger to me.”

“I don’t understand what happened to her. When I met her, back at the tomb makers’ village, she seemed kind. And she seemed to love you.”

“She became greedy for power.”

“But she can never be the pharaoh.”

“No, but she sees Tuthmosis as being a weak boy she can control.”

Karoya shook her head. “I don’t understand these things.”

“Neither do I. That’s why I’m leaving Thebes. I don’t want to spend my life among such people.”

“The oracle was wrong,” said Karoya. “She told us that you would be the pharaoh.”

“No. She said I would achieve my goal. My goal was to see my father before he died. I achieved that. I also wanted happiness. I would never have been happy as the pharaoh, constantly at war with my sister, afraid for my life.”

“But you suffered so much.”

“And I learnt a lot, Karoya—about Egypt and about myself. I’ve realised that I’m an odd sort of Egyptian. I have a liking for travel and a desire to get to know barbarians. I would never have found that out about myself if I had stayed in the palace.”

“But being a fan-bearer sounds very dull,” said Karoya.

Ramose laughed. “I don’t actually have to sit at Pharaoh’s side waving a fan, Karoya. Fan-bearer on the Right of the Pharaoh is a title. It’s one of the highest positions in Egypt, next to the vizier. And Tuthmosis is happy to let me wander around Egypt and report on the situation at its borders. So he’s given me another title—Superintendent of Foreign Lands.”

“I’m glad you’re coming with me,” said Karoya.

“My first duty will be to deliver you back safely to your people.”

Vizier Wersu was waiting for them at the wharf. He smiled as they approached. Ramose still thought he looked like a crocodile, but he had learned to like the vizier.

“I have carried out your wishes,” the vizier told him. “Keneben will not be banished, but he is no longer the royal tutor. He will be posted in a lesser temple.”

“And Queen Mutnofret?”

“She will be confined in a remote palace,” the vizier replied. “It is more than she deserves.”

Ramose nodded. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to demand the death sentence she deserved. She was after all Tuthmosis’s mother.

“There is someone who wishes to speak to you, Your Excellency,” the vizier said.

A small figure with his head hung low came from behind the vizier. It was Hapu. The boy fell to his knees.

“I’m sorry, Your Excellency,” he said, with tears streaming down his face. “I let you down. I could not do anything to stop the coronation.”

“Get up, Hapu,” said Ramose. “And for Amun’s sake call me Ramose. There was nothing you could have done.”

“I could have tried at least. I was afraid of Princess Hatshepsut,” said Hapu, miserably.

“You were wise to fear her, Hapu. She is dangerous.”

“Why don’t you come to Kush with Ramose and me?” asked Karoya.

Hapu shook his head. “I don’t want any more adventures. I just wish I could go back to the Great Place and be an apprentice painter again.”

“I think that can be arranged.” Ramose glanced at the vizier. The vizier nodded. “It will be good to have you working on my father’s tomb. You can make sure the tomb makers do the job properly.”

“Thank you, Ramose.”

Ramose hugged his friend and then stepped aboard the boat. Karoya followed. The vizier, who was going with them as far as the first cataract, helped her aboard.

The boat pulled away from the wharf. Ramose waved goodbye to Hapu. Earlier, he had taken leave of his brother who had hugged him and told him he would miss him. He hadn’t spoken to Hatshepsut. He had glimpsed her in a corridor, but she had turned away from him.