The Horned Viper (4 page)

Tutmose sat back again, and nodded. ‘Very wise.’

.

Isis poked her head out of the cabin. She was beginning to wonder what had become of Hopi; he hadn’t joined them once since boarding the boat. In fact, he’d looked gloomy ever since Hat-Neb had first come to visit. It was time to investigate. Outside on the deck, the afternoon sunlight was becoming golden and mellow. Isis found Hopi in the shelter at the front of the boat, deep in conversation with the ointment man. He looked up as she approached.

‘Isis, have you met Tutmose?’ he asked her. ‘He’s a doctor. A royal doctor. He has worked in the king’s court.’

‘I’ve just seen him treating Hat-Neb.’ Isis sat down next to her brother to study the doctor more closely. He was thin, with long, nervous hands; his small, beady eyes were set deep into their sockets, and darted to and fro as he spoke. ‘What were you putting on Hat-Neb’s back?’ she asked. ‘Is he sick?’

Tutmose smiled – a cold, humourless smile. ‘You might say that he brings sickness on himself,’ he said.

Isis was alarmed. ‘How? What’s wrong with him?’

The doctor shook his head. ‘This is not your concern,’ he said.

‘But it is! I mean – I’d hate to think he was sick! He’s being so kind to us,’ insisted Isis. ‘Can you cure him?’

The humourless smile appeared again. ‘Of course.’

Isis stared at him. Something told her that he didn’t care whether he cured Hat-Neb or not. It made her angry. ‘So, can you cure Hopi’s limp?’ she challenged him.

Tutmose looked affronted. ‘I do not give cures for wounds that have already healed,’ he said.

‘But it hasn’t healed. Not completely,’ Isis goaded him. ‘It still hurts sometimes, doesn’t it, Hopi? And you still limp.’

Hopi glared at her. ‘My leg’s as good as it will ever get. You know that, Isis.’

Isis shrugged. ‘I would have thought a royal doctor could cure anything.’

‘I’m sure he can cure most things,’ said Hopi.

Isis met his gaze, and saw that her brother’s eyes were flashing. He was annoyed with her and she felt indignant. Hopi was supposed to be on
her
side. She wanted to talk to him on his own, but Tutmose showed no sign of moving. Instead, the doctor leaned forward and smiled.

‘Is that the first time you have seen a doctor at work, Isis?’ he asked, placing a bony finger on her hand.

Isis snatched her hand away. ‘Of course it isn’t,’ she said. ‘Who do you think treated Hopi?’ She had been young at the time, but she had a very clear memory of the doctors who had tended Hopi’s leg. They had been kind to treat him at all, for there had been little inheritance to pay them with.

‘Not a good memory, perhaps,’ said Tutmose.

‘No, it isn’t,’ said Isis. She wished she’d never started talking about it.

‘It was a difficult time for us both. Isis has been terrified of crocodiles ever since,’ put in Hopi.

That smile curled the doctor’s lips again. ‘Ah, now there’s an ailment I’ve never had to treat!’ he exclaimed.

Isis glared at him and scrambled back to her feet. ‘Well, Hat-Neb
has
treated it!’ she snapped. ‘That makes him much more of a doctor than
you
are, doesn’t it?’ And she spun round and flounced along the deck.

.

Hopi was astonished. He had never seen Isis behave that way. He felt embarrassed. Of course, Tutmose could have been a little more sensitive; his sister’s fear of crocodiles had been very real before the offerings to Sobek. But Isis had been rude from the start.

Tutmose raised an eyebrow. ‘Quite fiery, your little sister,’ he remarked.

‘Well, she can be,’ Hopi admitted. ‘I’m sorry. I’ll make sure she apologises right away.’ He began to get up. ‘I’ll go after her –’

Tutmose placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘No, no, there’s no need,’ he said. ‘Girls are governed by strange impulses. I have seen worse cases than this.’

Hopi settled down again, feeling torn. He didn’t want to offend this man. There seemed to be so much that they could gain from each other.

‘Well, thank you for understanding,’ he said.

‘Not at all, not at all,’ said Tutmose. He got to his feet. ‘Now, I’m just going to check my list of supplies. We will be stopping at some useful villages – places where certain herbs grow, and so on. I hope to do some stocking up. You will excuse me.’

‘Of course.’

Hopi would have liked to see what supplies he was talking about, but he didn’t feel he could ask just yet. Still, there was time. In spite of Hat-Neb and Nebo, and in spite of this strange behaviour from Isis, he was enjoying himself. He had rarely met anyone who would talk to him the way Tutmose did – apart, of course, from Menna. Few people were interested in the lives and habits of desert creatures, yet this doctor seemed to have nothing but respect for his knowledge.

He thought for a moment about Isis. He really ought to try to talk to her about the way she had spoken to Tutmose. It was too bad. But now she was in the cabin with Hat-Neb, and Hopi was reluctant to draw attention to himself. He sighed and wandered down the boat to see what else was happening. Kerem the captain was shouting orders to the team of men in charge of the big, heavy rudder-paddles. The afternoon was now well advanced, and they were guiding the boat into the shallows. It was time to go ashore.

.

On the riverbank, Hat-Neb sent Kerem with members of the crew to buy fresh poultry and fish, along with vegetables, herbs and beans from the nearby village gardens. Mats were unrolled under palm trees, and a little camp was set up for the night.

‘Now, my daughters,’ said Hat-Neb, coming up to Isis and Mut. ‘It is almost time for you to show me how well you can perform. And just to make you dance that little bit better, I have something to give to you.’ From behind his back, he produced a little casket, and opened the lid. ‘Look.’

Isis and Mut peered inside and gasped. There lay two beautiful bead collars, each with a scarab amulet embedded in the middle.

‘Are these really for us?’ asked Mut.

‘Just for you. One each. Would you like to try them on?’

Hat-Neb reached into the casket himself, and gently lifted the first collar out. It had three rows of carnelian beads, and the scarab was finely carved out of turquoise. It was exquisite.

‘Come, Isis. This one is for you,’ said Hat-Neb. He placed the collar around her neck and fastened the clasp. Isis felt the unfamiliar beadwork with her fingers and smiled. She had never owned anything so lovely in her life.

Hat-Neb did the same for Mut, then sent them off to show Sheri and Kia. The two women exclaimed in admiration as the two girls twirled around.

‘Now you must take them off and keep them very safe,’ said Kia. ‘It’s time to get ready for dancing. You can put them on again later.’

The sun set over the palm trees to the west, on the other side of the river, and fires were lit in the camp. As the crew cook prepared the food, Sheri and Kia reached for their instruments, and Isis and Mut began to dance. Isis felt a thrill of happiness and freedom as she twirled around, stepping in perfect time with Mut. Most of the parties they worked at were in people’s houses and courtyards, where there was not very much space. Here, there was the whole riverbank. They performed their best acrobatics – frontflips and backflips, several in a row; cartwheels; somersaults. With every turn, Hat-Neb roared his approval. At last they stopped, and bowed to their employer.

‘Wonderful,’ he enthused. ‘Now, let us all eat. Later, you can dance again.’

Isis sat down next to Sheri.

‘No, no, come and sit here, my daughters,’ exclaimed Hat-Neb. ‘You and Mut must eat the choicest fish and meat. I will select it for you myself.’

As Isis accepted a tender piece of goose meat, she looked across the fire and saw that Hopi was still talking to that horrible doctor. It bothered her. Couldn’t her brother see what he was really like?

Perhaps he
would
see, after a few days. And meanwhile, she would try not to worry. Meeting Hat-Neb was one of the best things that had ever happened to her, almost like finding the father she had lost. Maybe Hopi would come to feel the same way, in time.

.

CHAPTER THREE

Isis woke up with a start. Something had disturbed her, outside the light fabric shelter where she and Mut lay with Sheri and Kia. She sat up and listened. Perhaps it was nothing, just the breeze in the palm trees. But she was about to lie down again when she saw a human shape, silhouetted against the fabric by the moonlight. There was definitely someone there.

Her heart thudding a little faster, Isis got to her feet and tiptoed outside. The palm trees rustled and swayed, and she slipped behind one of the straight, tall trunks.

The camp was silent, so quiet that Isis could hear the lap-lap of the River Nile against the banks. She peered out from around the tree. Next to their shelter were two smaller ones for Tutmose and Hopi, and then, slightly apart, was a bigger shelter for Hat-Neb. Some of the crew stood guard around it, dozing, while the solid form of Nebo lay across the entrance.

She began to think she must have imagined the shadow. The night air was cool, giving her goosepimples, and she decided to head back to bed. Then something caught her eye, down towards the river. Hurriedly, she ducked back behind the trunk and watched.

It was Tutmose, creeping stealthily from the direction of the boat.

Huh
, thought Isis. She wasn’t surprised. Who else would be creeping around suspiciously late at night? He was carrying something long and thin. Isis stared, trying to make out what it was. Tutmose turned it slightly, so that she saw it more fully. It was Hat-Neb’s ostrich-feather fan.

Silently, Tutmose stepped inside his shelter and disappeared. Isis stood rooted to the spot for a few seconds. Was Hopi awake? Did he know about the strange behaviour of his ‘friend’, the doctor? She pursed her lips. She’d known there was something slippery about him. She went back to bed, her mind made up. In the morning, she’d warn her brother – first thing.

Not long after dawn, Isis crept outside to see the boat crew already bustling about, preparing breakfast and carrying things back down to the riverside. Mut was still fast asleep. Now, she decided, was her chance to speak to Hopi. She pulled on her linen gown and ran to the back of her brother’s shelter. Peeping underneath the fabric, she saw that Hopi was still asleep. She wriggled inside.

‘Hopi!’ She shook her brother’s shoulder.

‘Wh-what?’ he mumbled sleepily.

‘Wake up. I need to speak to you.’

Hopi rolled over and opened his eyes. ‘Isis.’ He frowned, and closed his eyes again.

She sat down next to him. ‘Hopi, you have to listen to me,’ she said urgently. ‘You must be careful. I know Tutmose is up to something. I know he is . . . are you listening to me?’ She shook his shoulder again.

‘Stop it!’ Hopi shrugged her off irritably. He sat up and wiped his hand over his face. Isis waited for a moment, letting him get his bearings. ‘So. What is it?’ he asked eventually.

‘It’s Tutmose. He creeps around the camp at night, stealing things from the boat – things belonging to Hat-Neb. I saw him carrying his fan, you know, the one that Nebo carries! He’s horrible, Hopi –’

‘Don’t be stupid, Isis. You don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Hopi cut her short. He flung off his covers and stood up. ‘I don’t know what’s happened to you. Yesterday you were very rude to Tutmose. You didn’t apologise and then you didn’t speak to me all evening. So what’s going on?’

Isis felt a pang of shame. ‘I’m sorry about that,’ she said. ‘I was busy with Hat-Neb.’

‘Hat-Neb, Hat-Neb!’ exclaimed Hopi. ‘You think he’s wonderful, don’t you? All he does is flatter you and give you things, and try to make you believe he’s so very, very nice –’

‘Well, he
is
.’

‘No, he isn’t.’

Isis was shocked. How could her brother say such a thing? ‘He’s one of the nicest people I’ve ever met!’ she declared. ‘He says I’m just like a daughter to him.’

‘Isis!’ Hopi sounded really angry. ‘You’ve only just met this man. He is
not
your father. He is nothing like your father. Don’t you ever, ever dare say that again.’