Scroll of Saqqara(28)
Nubnofret had, as always, forgotten her ire. Khaemwaset saw little of her and Hori until the day when they embarked for Memphis and home. He himself seemed fully recovered from the strange fit that had overtaken him on the night he lost the scroll. To his chagrin, it had not been recovered. He did not think that it would. Deeply hidden was the growing conviction that spirits had been abroad, that for some reason of their own they had for a moment dissolved the barrier between the living and themselves, and he had been the point at which the wall wavered. The old man was either a great magician in communication with unseen powers, which Khaemwaset doubted, or he was a spirit himself and his scroll a thing of smoke and air that had faded into nothing with the approach of dawn.
The warnings of his horoscope, the vivid memory of the edge of the scroll curling and blackening under the torch, the old man’s urgent plea, were thrust to the back of Khaemwaset’s mind. He would go home, look at the plans for the Apis burials, begin digging again at Saqqara, and recover his strong sense of self. Only the dream truly continued to haunt him. He forgot none of its details, and for a long time a woman’s bare feet in the dust could give him an inadvertent pang of fatigue and lust.
He and the rest of the family sailed home laden with purchases for the house and gifts for Sheritra and friends in Memphis. The river had shrunk even further in the time they had been away, and now was flowing with a turgid slowness. The return journey took longer in spite of a steady breeze from the north because the current was against the craft and the oars had to be used.
Khaemwaset, impatient as always to see the calm forest of palms set against their backdrop of pyramids and desert that heralded his city, sat under a canopy on the deck of Amun-is-Lord, his thoughts already on his next project. Nubnofret dozed, lay in the seclusion of the cabin with nourishing creams on her face to help ease her skin’s transition back to the dry desert air, or played board games with Wernuro. Hori and Antef strewed the sun-baked planks with the puzzles and toys they had picked up in the markets for dissection. Surely, Khaemwaset thought, as the oars splashed and the canopy slapped in the wind, we are the most blessed, harmonious and fortunate family in Egypt.
4
Death calls every one to him,
they come to him with quaking heart,
and are terrified through fear of him.
THEY DOCKED at the watersteps of Khaemwaset’s estate shortly after breakfast, the servants scattering immediately to their duties. Sheritra, hearing the confusion, came running to greet them, and there were hugs and reassurances before they retired to the garden. Already the boats were being unloaded, and Khaemwaset knew that later they would be dragged from the water and inspected for repairs. He sank onto the grass in the shade of his sycamores, Sheritra beside him, with a gust of pure pleasure. His fountain still tinkled crystal into its stone basin. His monkeys watched the arrival with lofty boredom and went back to lolling beside the path. His comfortable old house still welcomed him with sun-drenched walls and orderly flowers. He heard the bustle of brisk activity begin inside. In a while Ib would ask him if he wanted the noon meal in the garden or in the cool of his small dining room, and Penbuy, freshly washed, would be waiting for him in his office. He watched his daughter exclaim over her gifts, her plain face flushed with excitement, and for once Nubnofret did not keep up a steady barrage of admonition and advice as the girl hunched over the bright jewels and cascading linens and knick-knacks in her lap.
Presently Ib could be seen, approaching with his dignified, unhurried walk from the back of the house. Penbuy was with him, and even at this distance Khaemwaset sensed that the man was barely containing some violent emotion. Nubnofret, usually indifferent to such things, also looked up, and Hori scrambled to his feet.
“Highness, will the family be eating here or in the dining mom?” Ib asked. Khaemwaset did not answer, indeed, he barely heard the question. All his attention was fixed on his scribe. Penbuy was trembling, his eyes glowing.
“Speak!” Khaemwaset said. Penbuy needed no further invitation.
“Highness, a new tomb has been found on the Saqqara plain!” he blurted “The workmen had begun to clear the site of Osiris Neuser-Ra’s sun temple in preparation for your orders on its restoration, and behold! a rock of large size emerged. It took the Overseer three days to remove it and lo! beneath it was a flight of steps.”
Khaemwaset, in spite of his quickening pulse, smiled at Penbuy’s uncharacteristic loss of aplomb. “Have the steps been cleared?” he snapped.
“Yes. And at their foot …” He paused for effect and Hori exclaimed, “Well get on with it, Penbuy! You already have our attention. We are your captives!”