Chapter 8 The Mysterious Papyri
The Mysterious Papyri
Zahra studied the chariots coming up the hill as she awaited the King’s return. Namir had told her to wait on a small hill near the pr-aa, and she had done so, expecting him to return soon after. The obelisk rang two Atum, marking two hours since he had left.
She did not mind the King taking his time. It gave her more time to plan. She had missed her father at the temple, but she knew where he would be. All she had to do was convince him of her plan, and they would be free.
Zahra thought of Katerina’s words, and she shook the memory from her mind. If she stayed in the moonlight, the keres couldn’t reach her. She would have to find somewhere to hide before the eclipse began.
“Have you seen anything?”
Zahra turned around, shocked out of her thoughts.
Namir stood behind her. He had abandoned his plain clothes and had opted to wear a white schenti and gold jewelry.
Zahra’s eyes lingered on his muscular bare chest, drifting up to the usekh collar necklace that covered the Thoth’s mark.
It must have been burdensome to wear the same ornate clothing night after night, but he did not seem to mind it.
Namir raised his eyebrows at her when she did not respond, and Zahra turned away with flushed cheeks.
“I have seen no maidens leave. Without more information, I can’t look for much else. Are you sure you don’t recall anything about her? Her color of dress, even?”
“All I know is that she is one of the women here.” He gazed out at the crowd of thousands.
The sheer challenge that sat before him would have made anyone rethink this endeavor, but Namir only watched the scene with tiredness.
The way he had guided her to this very hill as a place to watch incoming chariots told her all she needed—he had sat where she sat many times before.
“If she is here, she has left early every night. Most of the maidens stay until six Atum.”
For a chance to dance with their King. Zahra studied Namir out of the corner of her eye.
While she did not know the details of Namir’s forgetfulness, the Hem-netjer had insinuated that Namir had entered into a drunken stupor the night he chose his bride.
For all she knew, his bride was never at the Feast to begin with.
She wouldn’t be surprised if he had wandered away, as he so often seemed to do, and chosen a random woman in his drunken state.
The challenge of finding the King’s bride in a kingdom full of women was overwhelming, but she reminded herself of what was at stake.
If she wished to live, she had to face this challenge with him.
“She could have also arrived late.” The number of chariots dwindled.
“How late have you watched the chariots arrive?”
Namir hesitated. “Not long enough.”
“Then you should rest here and wait for any latecomers.” Zahra stood. “You would recognize her better than I would.”
“I would,” Namir agreed. “Then you will watch those at the Feast. If anyone leaves early, you will notify a medjay or return to me.”
Zahra hesitated. Namir had said he would inform his medjay that anyone taken prisoner wouldn’t receive a sentence without his approval, but she did not know if he had done it. “My King—”
“My personal guard is sending the word out as we speak.” Namir took a seat in the dirt. “I said I would ensure you did not die tonight.”
“I did not doubt your word,” Zahra said. “Thank you, my King.”
He nodded, glancing back. He smiled at something behind her. “In fact, it seems he is already done.”
Zahra spun around. A young man was walking toward them, one wearing embroidered leather armor glistening with gold.
As he approached, the light revealed thin dreadlocks that fell down his back.
He lifted his hand with a smile, but he did not wave.
Instead, he moved his hands in fluid motions, and Zahra recognized his motions as Auran sign language.
She had seen it on occasion, but there were not many people that used it in Illahun.
Namir stood with a grin, signing in reply before gesturing to Zahra.
The guard’s smile faded, and an inquisitive expression crossed his face.
Zahra stood awkwardly, watching the two converse.
Finally, the guard settled on regarding her with apprehension.
He nodded to her and spoke. “I am Ramses. I will accompany you in your search.”
All plans of finding her father were dashed from Zahra’s mind. “But I don’t need—”
“If you find anything, tell Ramses. He will report back to me.” Namir gestured to Ramses. “He can hear you better in the light.”
Zahra glanced hesitantly at Ramses. She bowed her head to him. “Thank you, Ramses.”
Namir translated her gratitude before turning back to her. “I expect to see you again before the end of the night. Ramses will bring you back here close to six Atum if you find nothing.”
Zahra clenched her jaw, but she bowed with a grateful expression on her face. “Thank you, my King.”
Ramses nodded to her, gesturing with his hand as he spoke. “I will follow you.”
Zahra led the way down the hill, avoiding where Bahiti and her daughters would be.
Despite the crowds, Ramses stayed right behind her.
She wandered around the edge of the Feast, keeping an eye out for anyone leaving early or an opportunity to escape Ramses.
She felt bad for wanting him gone, but it was obvious that Namir had tasked Ramses with keeping an eye on her because he did not trust her.
It was not until after three Atum that an opportunity presented itself. Two maidens dressed in brilliant colors and wearing jewels were clawing at each other’s throats and pulling on each other’s hair.
Ramses moved to intervene. Zahra froze as he threw himself between the two maidens. The maidens began yelling at each other, and they turned and yelled at Ramses. He held them back from attacking each other, yelling at some nearby medjay to assist him.
Zahra broke free of her stupor and stumbled away from the pr-aa, hiding herself behind a tree. After a few minutes, Ramses emerged, looking around in bewilderment. He followed the edge of the building, walking out of sight.
Zahra let out a breath of relief and began to run toward the temple stable house. She would have to tell Namir that she had thought she saw someone leaving and was unable to find Ramses. She hoped he would believe her.
Zahra passed by the temple housing, pausing when she recognized Kamil coming down the stairs. She glanced at the stable house. Her father wouldn’t show for some time. Perhaps she could find something that would reveal her father’s motive for stealing the Thoth.
Zahra waited until Kamil had disappeared into the crowd before making her way up the stairs to the second floor. She knocked on the door to her father’s apartment as a precaution. When no one answered, she slipped inside.
The room was exactly as it was yesterday, with a desk and two hammocks.
Zahra turned her attention to the desk. Pieces of papyrus were crumbled up everywhere.
She picked them up and straightened them out.
Some had ink purposefully spilled across them to prevent readers from knowing the contents.
A letter of her name had been missed by the ink spills.
These were all prior versions of the letter her father had sent to her this morning.
What other information was he not telling her?
Zahra walked around the room, finding Omar’s cleaning schedule posted on the wall. Indeed, he had left early. He was supposed to stay until the hour of Atum.
This was why the medjay had investigated him. More people than Kamil knew he had left early. Did the Hem-netjer know as well?
Zahra pushed the thought away. She couldn’t think of the consequences of Omar’s actions now. She had to find proof of something—anything. She refused to believe he was stealing for selfish reasons.
Zahra turned her attention to Omar’s hammock, which bore the blanket she had made for him years ago.
Beneath the blanket stuck out the corner of a papyrus.
Zahra plucked it from its hiding place and opened it.
She paled. Upon the papyrus were scribbles and drawings depicting the Thoth.
The writing was in the Badari language, and the papyrus itself appeared to be as ancient as the scrolls from the hidden library.
There were newer papyri folded with it, detailing the rotations of the medjay within the temple.
Her hands trembled. Why would her father have these?
The realization hit her, and she stumbled back into one of the walls.
It had always been Omar’s plan to take the Thoth.
But why? She knew his debt with Darius was substantial, but she did not think he would steal the most valued artifact of the kingdom to escape it.
Omar was a good man—Zahra knew that. Yet, reality insisted otherwise.
“Get out of my home.” Kamil stood in the doorway, his arms filled with sweets and his brow lowered in anger.
Zahra spun toward him and waved the papyrus. “What are these? Where did you get them?”
Kamil stepped forward. “You have no right to question me, girl. Leave!”
“Omar is my father,” she shouted, “and these were placed in his things. Tell me, where did you get these?”
“I have never seen them before.” He stepped to the side. “Now, leave!”
Zahra gritted her teeth. She folded the papyrus, keeping it close to her side as she passed by the grumpy priest. Though she wanted to believe otherwise, she couldn’t help but feel he was telling the truth. Kamil had not placed them there. Were they truly her father’s?
Zahra sat outside the temple housing for some time.
The more she mulled over this new information, the more it made sense.
Angry tears sat in her eyes as the obelisk chimed four times, and she made her way to the stable house.
Omar was there when she arrived. He raised his knife and stalked toward her.