Ankhtifi's Papyrus Read online

  The Egyptian Adventures of

  Kathryn Black

  ~

  Ankhtifi’s

  Papyrus

  Graham Warren

  Copyright © 2017 Graham Warren

  The author asserts the moral right under the

  Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

  to be identified as the author of this work.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  www.KathrynBlack.co.uk

  Dedication

  To Renate

  My Renée

  To my ancient friends

  and to red wine

  “We learn from history that man can never learn anything from history.”

  Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel

  “My mission in life

  is to prove Hegel wrong!”

  Alex Cumberpatch

  Contents

  Chapter 1 - The ADD

  Chapter 2 - The Phones

  Chapter 3 - Why are we doing this?

  Chapter 4 - The Burial Chamber

  Chapter 5 - A Benevolent Warlord!

  Chapter 6 - Reading Between the Lines

  Chapter 7 - No Time to Talk

  Chapter 8 - Lost for Words

  Chapter 9 - Too Much Trust?

  Chapter 10 - Alone in the Past

  Chapter 11 - A Time of Death

  Chapter 12 - Where is Hathor?

  Chapter 13 - Kate’s Frustration

  Chapter 14 - Connecting the Dots

  Chapter 15 - Never-Care!

  Chapter 16 - Priests and Kings

  Chapter 17 - Into the Past

  Chapter 18 - The Horror-Scope

  Chapter 19 - Burner Phone

  Chapter 20 - The Smell of Death

  Chapter 21 - Ready for Anything

  Chapter 22 - Optimistic or Delusionary?

  Chapter 23 - Nice Teeth!

  Chapter 24 - Face to Face

  Chapter 25 - Twenty-seventh of July

  Chronology

  Also from this Author

  Chapter 1

  -

  The ADD

  “Really! … Is that what you are going to spend the rest of your life doing?” Kate asked of Alex in her all too frequent acerbic style. She had entered stage-left as if she were some am-dram diva.

  “Probably,” came the laid-back reply. Being so accustomed to her outbursts, there was not even the slightest flicker of an eye in her direction. Alex, cushioned within a comfy old armchair, with his feet upon an equally well cushioned footstool, was immersed in the peace that reading the latest edition of Ancient Deity Digest offered. Affectionately known as The ADD, it was the ancients own glossy magazine. “All the quality of reporting and honest in-depth articles of Der Spiegel, entwined with the glorious pictures and historical narrative of National Geographic,” is how it had once been described to him. Alex desperately wanted his day to remain peaceful. A forlorn hope, but he was hoping none the less.

  “So, this is what we have come to, is it?” Kate said at volume as she paced about the library, their library, in a strop. She randomly dragged book after book from the shelves, if selecting only the largest and heaviest books was indeed random, though her choice of title most definitely was. One by one she thrust them to the floor, each making enough noise to wake the dead, which, considering their location – on the west bank of Luxor, amongst the tombs of the ancients – was probably not one of her wisest ideas. “Two tourists go missing, MISSING, and you just sit there and do nothing! Are you listening, are you going to do something, or are you going to carry on reading The ADD like a ninety-year-old?”

  Alex had been happily sitting in their library – the operative word was ‘had’. With the arrival of Kate, he knew that his peace, however much he tried to ignore her, had disappeared almost as quickly, though with just as much certainty, as an ice cube placed out in the desert. The way Kate had flung the door open as she arrived, then slammed it as she stormed into the library, had offered Alex a somewhat less than subtle clue as to her current state of mind. The last sandstorm, just a couple of months back, the one which had hit them full pelt, having picked up enough force to be able to funnel its anger at the sheer cliff face above Queen Hatshepsut’s temple, had been quieter as it had forced itself in. That had left a mess which had taken several days to clear up, even with the eager help of quite a few cleaning staff from the Winter Palace Hotel.

  Alex worried that Kate was about to make a much bigger mess, one that would take infinitely longer to clear up. “Stop,” he shouted as Kate was making out that she was about to throw a shabti across the room. “Okay, you have my attention. So, what’s wrong now?” Had he thought, he would neither have added the ‘so’ or the ‘now’.

  “What’s wrong now! Weren’t you listening? Two tourists have gone missing, two female vulnerable tourists, yet you do nothing.”

  “I heard about them, Kate. Holiday romances, they happen all the time. What is there to worry about?”

  “What’s there to worry about? Everything! Absolutely everything.” Kate was seriously agitated.

  “Why do you always start when Cairo and Emmy aren’t here?” Alex said in a resigned manner as he beckoned for Kate to sit down. Though she refused to sit, or release her tight grip on the shabti, it was no longer being waved in the air, which Alex took to be a good sign.

  “Haven’t you noticed? They are never here!”

  Actually, he had not noticed, not until now. It was indeed true that since the young adventurers had all agreed to move into their new home, built for them by Ramses – though obviously designed by his right-hand man Gadeem – Cairo and Emmy had been away rather a lot.

  The long single-story wooden building sat halfway up, and halfway into, a limestone mound to the south of Queen Hatshepsut’s temple. It was just behind, though a fare few metres above, a kilometre or so run of congested ancient tombs: collectively known as the Asasif. These tombs were intended to be the final resting place of the nobles, those fantastically rich ancients who had worked one to one with their Pharaoh, only they never had any chance of being allowed to rest in peace. The gold, the gems, the riches contained within each tomb, sealed their fate – or perhaps unsealed their fate!

  Whatever the penalty, whatever the risk, every known tomb was plundered in ancient times, mostly during the intervening years between the death of their Pharaoh and that same Pharaoh’s return in the afterlife. The plundered tombs were reused and resealed, only to be plundered again, used again, and plundered yet again. An ongoing sequence of events which spanned many hundreds of years. Finally, the message did indeed get through. The area then became a depository of mummified bodies, rather than of wealth.

  For little more than the last two hundred years, this area, along with great swathes of Egypt, had become a battle ground between treasure hunters and serious archaeologists, with each winter digging season bringing new finds, both legal and illegal. The pieces found and marvelled at today, were, for the most part, those discarded as of being of insignificant value, therefore not worth the risk of returning for, by the tomb robbers of three thousand years ago.

  Upon a first glance, the young adventurers home would have looked far less out of place in America’s wild west. Facing north, the roof, which extended over a wide veranda running along the front of the five rooms, offered shade, all day, every day. A pair of comfy seats, either side of a glass topped wooden coffee table, sat outside eac
h of the three bedrooms. Wooden steps up to the veranda, along with the wooden railings between, emphasised the spaghetti-western look. To complete the picture all that was needed were a couple of horses and a water trough, though they did actually have water troughs close to each table, which were always kept full. The release of moisture into the extremely hot dry air, made breathing just a little more comfortable when relaxing on the veranda. As for horses, there was no way anybody could arrive either by horse or by donkey. The gradient down to the Asasif alone would make any attempt virtually impossible. Add in the loose surface stones and it was a total impossibility.

  By being built deeply into the mound, it allowed the rooms to be considerably larger than they first appeared, though because of this, natural light could only reach in from the front. There were, however, compensations. The view was fantastic both by day and by night: when Queen Hatshepsut’s temple was floodlit. Each of the five windows was protected by sturdy wooden shutters. Because there were no adjoining doors between rooms, a door sat beside each window. Gadeem’s reasoning for this, as the young adventurers had found out in conversation some while ago, was to allow Helios – the massive ancient Greek who guarded them – knowledge of where they were at any given time. Being an ancient, his small home come guard hut had to be lower down: at ancient ground level.

  The three bedrooms, each with an en suite bathroom, were separated by a lounge and the library, where Kate and Alex were currently experiencing a somewhat tense standoff. She had no intention of either sitting when he asked or allowing him the peace he craved.

  “I shall get us some drinks,” Alex said positively. He was unable to take his eyes off the shabti as he yet again beckoned for Kate to sit. He did not have to move as there was no kitchen to move to, not even a kettle. All the cleaning, meals and laundry was taken care of by the Winter Palace. Even coffee and Kate’s favourite, tamar-hindi, were supplied at any time of day or night. They lived a privileged life. Alex squeaked and a bat immediately circled the room before leaving, through a very small hole in the back wall, at a crazy speed. They had all become so familiar with this bat ordering system that it was no longer a novelty.

  Finally, Kate did sit on the arm of a chair, though she almost growled as she did, “You kept on and on about how dull everything was in London” – Alex and Emmy had spent a year at the British Museum learning from Dr Margretti – “yet, what on earth could be duller than sitting here, reading that?” She jabbed the hand holding the shabti in his direction and extended her index finger as she did.

  “I’ll have you know that The ADD is anything except dull, and it most certainly is not boring.” Alex softened his tone. “It contains so much that we need to know about, that we must know about. Honestly, Kate, you really should make the time to read it. I really do wish that you would.”

  Kate did indeed read it, though this was one item, on a long list of items, that she never would confirm. It would make her appear as far too conformist. Alex had an inkling that she more than glanced at it, because all too often, especially when in heated conversation with ancients – and Kate’s conversations with ancients were all too often heated – she gave herself away, though he knew better than to say anything. This was Kate’s game and she needed to play it, she needed to be confrontational, to be the way she was … difficult!

  It was time for Alex to decide if he was going to play Kate’s game her way – long and protracted – or his way – short, though with the distinct possibility of him ending up in great pain! In a moment of rare rashness, he decided upon short. “Come on, Kate, I thought we were beyond this. I’m not your enemy, I’m your friend.” She gave him the pillar of salt look. “That’s not going to work on me, and you know that it isn’t.” Alex did not get to say another word before she exploded.

  He suffered a verbal onslaught, had to duck to avoid being hit by the flying shabti, which took out a small window pane as it left the room, and felt the whole building shake as Kate slammed the door behind her. Being so accustomed to her outbursts he felt relieved not to be in pain. His only regret was the shabti, it had been one of his favourites. Sekhmet, the lion headed goddess, standing with arms crossed, inlaid with lapis lazuli and with a rare gold glaze. Even rarer now that this piece was lost. He experienced a wry smile at the thought.

  Hearing voices below, Alex gently tipped a metre and a half high granite obelisk. The floor silently descended to reveal Ramses and his Thoth, and Nakhtifi and his Thoth, along with Gadeem. They had obviously thoroughly enjoyed listening to Kate’s outburst.

  The library and living room both worked in the same way. A simple pull on a floor standing obelisk, and the room descended to ancient ground level, however, it was only the living room which connected to the ancient underground tunnel system, making the library marginally more secure.

  “When I hear Kate go off like that, it makes me even more pleased to be dead!” said a youthful looking Ramses. He appeared both relaxed and casual as he swirled a glass of his beloved red wine.

  “I’ll drink to that!” Nakhtifi said in total agreement at his father’s words. Sharing the same sofa, Nakhtifi also appeared to be relaxed, actually very relaxed for him, though definitely not young! Due to ancients returning in the afterlife as they appeared at their most powerful, Nakhtifi looked to be considerably older than his father, having only obtained the status of pharaoh late on in life. Thoth R – Ramses’ Thoth – and Thoth N – Nakhtifi’s Thoth – stood behind them, their quills and papyrus recording all that was being said. These ancient gods were scribes. Each had the head of an ibis, with its long, narrow, downward curving beak, connected to the body of a tall, though very thin, man. Their only weapon, a quill and papyrus, their only protection, words.

  Gadeem filled an armchair and also appeared relaxed as he took a sip of wine, which Alex took as an extremely good sign. Had there been more than the usual day to day troubles going on in the afterlife, then the atmosphere would have been quite different. He was now even more convinced that Kate had overacted, though there was just one nagging doubt, brought about by his total mistrust of coincidences.

  After all the usual greetings, Ramses just had to ask what was eating Kate this time.

  “I hope it isn’t Sobek!” Nakhtifi delivered dryly.

  Alex waited until the laughter had subsided, and the coffee and tamar-hindi had been served, before replying. “You know Kate; you know how she is!”

  “What are you not telling us, Alex?”

  “Nothing,” he replied instantly to Ramses, but could see from the look on not only his face, but also the faces of Nakhtifi and Gadeem, that they were never going to accept ‘nothing’ as an answer, though he failed to understand why. Alex took his time to really take in each face. It was obvious they each knew of something which he did not, yet none of them appeared to be worried. “Okay, so it is not just by accident that you are all here at exactly the same time as Kate throws one of her wobblies.” There was no attempt to deny this. With his coffee being far too hot, Alex poured a glass of ice-cold tamar-hindi as he asked, “Would somebody care to explain?”

  “Absolutely nothing to explain, my boy,” Ramses said as he held out his now empty glass for Thoth to refill.

  “Nothing at all,” Nakhtifi confirmed as he also held out his glass for Ramses’ Thoth to refill, his own Thoth having apparently left.

  There was a short period of silence whilst Alex thought. He considered the disappearance of the two tourists, quickly deducing that if this did indeed have anything to do with ancients, then Ramses would, most definitely, be able to hide his worries. However, Nakhtifi would only have been able to hide his worries if he had remained silent, which he had not. That left Gadeem. He was Ramses’ right hand man, his planner, the strategist. Easy enough to talk to, and more than often quite open about things, though not here, not in front of Ramses. One to one - yes, here - no. In the end it was Nakhtifi’s demeanour alone that was enough to convince Alex. There was indeed nothing to be worried abo
ut, even though something was definitely going on.

  Unlike the living room the library remained unchanged, whether it was at modern ground level, or, as it was now, at ancient ground level. This had initially led to some confusion, mostly in the form of the door, because a door was a door, and a door had to lead somewhere – only, at ancient ground level, this one led nowhere, unless you were an ancient. Yes, of course, just after they had moved in, it had to be Kate who had exploded. Nobody who witnessed the outburst could now remember what had brought it about, though each clearly remembered seeing her swing the door open and storm out. She did not get far! Looking back, shouting as she left at a pace, she had hit the wall with force, before bouncing back into the library. There had been a period of shocked silence whilst Alex, Emmy and Cairo had looked down upon the prone Kate, during which time the visiting ancients had taken their leave. However, the silence was only momentary. What had then happened was not at all dissimilar to being stuck in a cage with a large wild cat. In panic, as well as in an act of self-preservation, Cairo had tipped the obelisk; Emmy had opened the real door; Kate, thankfully, had used it, though not before Alex had been left on the floor injured and in pain!

  As a result of that event Alex had asked Gadeem to help out with a little magic, so that there would never again be confusion over which level they were on. The pictures and quotations which hung on the library walls between the many bookcases – because Alex had developed a real passion for quotations – all now changed. The David Roberts print of Luxor Temple as a ruin, with the River Nile prominent in the foreground, the one bought by so many tourists, hung in a suitably aged frame at modern ground level. At ancient ground level the frame remained unchanged, though the picture now showed the temple as it appeared all those thousands of years ago. Similarly, the quotation Alex now fixed his eyes upon read at modern ground level: