Secret of the 7th Scarab (The Mummifier's Daughter Series Book 4) Page 12

  The man made to say something but stilled when Ramesses continued, "We will filter in the guards from this side, let them casually walk in small groups, not a full march, because that would put out an alert. Tell the men that if anyone asks them what is happening, they are to report that there is combat training outside the city walls. We will first surround the area before entering. I want to trap these people, and if they try to escape through other exits, the guards will capture them—all of them."

  * * *

  The sun lowered over the western bank as the guards moved along the streets. Several of the onlookers watched their passing with marginal interest. Although there had been rumors, the people of Thebes had seen several battles during the pharaoh's reign and knew it took time to prepare for war, and with mere sideways glances they continued to their homes. The heat of the day was slowly dissipating, with a slight breeze blowing through the streets, carrying the scent of grilling meat and baking flatbreads, while children called to one another from the kitchen rooftops, pointing to the guards, and having air battles with one another while their mothers prepared their meals.

  The guards steadily encircled the entire block of homes, righting their short spears as they awaited instructions.

  A hum started above them as people looked over the edges of their roof kitchens, mumbling to one another, questioning their actions. A young girl ran toward one of the homes only to be halted by a guard. Her hysterical pleading and explanations that she was responsible for her brothers, who were within the home, was quickly followed with apologies for leaving them unattended in order to speak with a friend. The guard looked toward the house and then allowed her through to collect a young baby and a smaller boy, and then return to the home of her friend.

  From one side of the doorway of Apisit Ripisit, the first guard reached out and touched the spear of the guard next to him with his own, the guard in turn turned to the one next to him, repeating the procedure, while the others quietly watched as a larger group of guards assembled at the doorway. Behind them another group of men stood, equipped with shackles and ropes, their duty to secure and oversee those removed. Between them were two of Thebes's best whip wielders who had been given the instruction to lash anyone who tried to escape. To the side of them were several healers, assigned to the guards.

  The touching of the spears retuned from the other end, confirming that everyone was in position. It was shortly followed by the clatter of hooves on the dirt-packed road. Those nearby turned to watch Ramesses approach on his chariot, in full regalia. The citizens still on the road bent to one knee as he passed, lowering their gazes.

  Ramesses reined in his horses just to the side of the entrance to Apisit Ripisit and turned to his onlookers, "In my youth, I fought kingdoms to ensure the prosperity of Egypt. But today I find myself having to attack my own people to weed out those who threaten the well-being of Egypt and its people. Today we will rid Thebes of its villains."

  There was loud scurrying behind the wooden door when Ramesses indicated that the guards should proceed, drawing their daggers as they forced down the door. The first group exclaimed loudly as they stepped into the resistance. The clanking of blades and exclamations of pain quickly filled the approaching night. Oil lamps were thrown at those trying to enter, their contents spilling to the floor and splashing some of the nearby guards, who quickly covered the areas with rags, cussing and hissing from the pain, the events only serving to feed their wrath. Their actions became more violent as they slammed those they could get hold of against the walls, often banging their heads hard and tossing them out to the others in a dazed state.

  * * *

  In the depths of Apisit Ripisit, exclamations and shouts ran through the narrow passages, with many moving deeper into its bowels in hope of escape. Warnings of the guards' progress were quickly followed with calls to action, although the shutties and traders focused their attentions on gathering and securing their goods. The confusion and shouts saw some take the opportunity to turn on one another, drawing knives, stealing goods and gold, and gathering it before working their way to an exit.

  Ma-Nefer uneasily moved within one of the chambers. He had sought out this place because he knew that the guards and the pharaoh had no knowledge of it. However he now cursed himself for his lack of foresight. Khabo knew of this place, and he had been in their custody and would have willingly spoken against him, even with the knowledge that those who traded here would kill him if ever spoke. Although it could not be proven that he had spoken, for Ma-Nefer's informants had confirmed Khabo's presence in the group of men that had left with the other male prefect, Moses. He also suspected that the woman who had left with them was Neti, and, if so, he wanted to know who was with Yani.

  The shouts and screams around him became irritating, and he knew there would be little point in fleeing. The guards would probably be looking for him and would have the possibly covered all the available exits. Glancing around him he slipped into one of the smaller rooms, one he knew could easily be overlooked, the stench alone would be off-putting, and doused the oil lamp.

  * * *

  The guards steadily brought out those captured from within the complex, and on their appearance they were sorted into several groups. Slaves were grouped on one side, regardless of their gender or age, with most of the guards keeping a good distance from them as they reeked of old sweat and stale urine. The shutties were sorted into another group, and loudly protested their treatment, while those falling within neither group were moved to one side and shackled. Several youngsters found themselves shackled, with the whip wielders threateningly swishing their whips. The captain of the guard walked through their ranks, trying to identify those who had assisted Ma-Nefer's escape. Those injured were left to one side, with the healers first tending to injured guards.

  Ramesses looked on as the number of people being brought through the doorway lessened, only to have his attention drawn to the side, where a group of guards was conveying more people from the other side.

  "I want a scribe!" Ramesses called, "I want every man and trader's name noted, as they will be punished for evading taxes."

  The shutties all became quiet on hearing his voice, many for the first time only taking notice of his presence.

  "I also want all of the goods removed and logged, whatever is of use to me I will take as partial payment of taxes owing."

  Those from the rooftops murmured and nodded, watching the scene below them unfold.

  It took most of the remaining daylight for the guards to clear the various chambers and passageways of occupants, while those charged with shackling them not having sufficient supplies, having to resort to crude shackles fashioned from rope.

  Ramesses turned to look at the group of piteous slaves, all of them streaked in dirt, wearing minimal clothing. His stomach turned at the thought that Shabaka had been subjected to similar circumstances. Even though the use of slaves was common practice, it was expected of the owners to provide basic care, food, and shelter. "Take those slaves down to the river so that they might clean themselves." He instructed, pointing to the group of guards surrounding them. He then turned to those living within the area and requested, "My faithful servants of Thebes, please spare us a piece of bread or an old piece of clothing, so that we can feed and clothe these people in a respectable manner. They were denied the festivities of the festival you have recently enjoyed."

  He looked around him as several of the citizens moved on their rooftops. For several moments nothing happened, but eventually a young boy stepped from a home carrying a few flatbreads. He hesitantly walked up to Ramesses and bowed, "We do not have much, my lord," and held out the flatbread for Ramesses to take. Instead, Ramesses' hand landed on the young boy's shoulder, "Your family will be blessed by the gods for your contribution. When you come of age, there will be a place for you at my palace," Ramesses said, then took from him the few pieces of flatbread and dismissed the boy with a nod. Not long after, more contributions came, and Ramesses i
ndicated that some of the guards would receive the clothing and the food. Once done, they were instructed to take the clothing to the river and the food to one of Luxor servant halls.

  The sky was darkening by the time the guards started removing the numerous crates. Scribes busily noted the names of the shutties and traders before they too were taken to holding yards. It soon enough became evident that it would take most of the evening before all of the goods and people could be processed and Ramesses wondered at the wisdom of having attempted a seizure so late into the afternoon. Although he had not thought it would be such a sizeable operation, which only excluded a handful of homes in the area.

  Lamps were brought out to allow the men to continue their work, the scribes hastily trying to capture and list all the goods, although none of the crates were opened to reveal their contents. There was a clatter of hooves and the guards stepped aside to allow the first of the oxen-drawn drays access to the area. The guards steadily started loading the wares onto the drays, as others performed a final sweep of the facility before securing it for the evening.

  Then, two guards emerged in the doorway, escorting a bent figure. Those in the immediate area made way and as the breeze shifted, Ramesses could understand why—the man reeked of decay.

  "We found him in one of the small alcoves," one of the guards said, turning to look at the captain of the guard, "at first we thought he was dead."

  The captain of the guard looked at the man, cloth rags covering his whole body and face. Using his short spear he tapped the man's side, uncertain whether the man would remain on his feet if he pressed too hard. The advancement of the spear tip was quickly halted as it came into contact with the man's body.

  "Careful, he might be a leper," one of the onlookers called from above.

  "I've never known a leper to have a filled body," the captain loudly replied. "Show your face!" he commanded the man, who remained as he stood.

  "I said, show your face!" this time the captain reached up with his spear hooking it under the rags that formed a makeshift hood. Several guards stood closer, lowering their spears. Pushing back the hood, the man moved away, only to come in contact with one of the guard's spears and immediately halted his movement.

  "Ma-Nefer," the captain of the guard said, as the hood was finally pushed back. On the mention of the name, the two guards closest moved to grab Ma-Nefer's arms. "Twice in one day—seems like today is not your day," the captain said, and then turned toward one of the guards, commanding, "Cut off the stinking clothes he's wearing and shackle him."

  "What if he has no clothes on underneath?" one of the guards hesitantly asked.

  "Then he can disgrace himself by walking to the whipping post naked," the captain of the guard nonchalantly replied. "He has inflicted enough indignity on others, he might as well know what it feels like."

  Just then Ramesses sided up to the captain and looked Ma-Nefer over. The guards kept a firm hold of his arms as another guard was cutting off the rancid outer layer of clothing.

  "So this is the man?" Ramesses asked, his gaze hard.

  Ma-Nefer hawked at the back of his throat and spat at Ramesses.

  "I can see you have similar manners as your thieving accomplice." Ramesses calmly spoke, seemingly unperturbed by Ma-Nefer's action. "Yet, I assure you he received his punishment." Ramesses stepped forward, as he demanded, "What have you done with my prefect?"

  Ma-Nefer ignored him, which resulted in one of the guards hitting him in the face, adding, "The pharaoh addressed you."

  Again Ma-Nefer remained silent, however Ramesses lifted his hand to halt the guard from inflicting another blow, "I will take his silence as acknowledgment of his guilt."

  His words jolted Ma-Nefer into a response, "You cannot do that!"

  "I am pharaoh, I can do as I like," Ramesses replied, "Your past actions give me no reason to be lenient. The charges listed against you are large and numerous. Although I might consider a less-tormenting punishment if you tell me where my prefect, Shabaka, is."

  "Prefect, he is no prefect! He is an adulterer who seduced my young bride!"

  "And by young bride you mean my prefect, Neti?" Ramesses asked.

  "Yes, the little whore. I suspect their bastard child remained at the palace?"

  Ramesses frowned at that, "I know nothing of any child, as you claim. And as to your claim of her being your wife, there is no record thereof, only of an intended betrothal should her parents fail to settle a debt."

  "Which they did not settle!" Ma-Nefer countered. "She was mine to have."

  "Your involvement with the circumstances surrounding her parents' deaths voided such an agreement. While I am a fair man in that all debts should be paid, I will not hold someone to a debt if the party owed the debt made it impossible for them to repay it in good time."

  "You cannot do that! Debts owed are debts owed." Ma-Nefer countered.

  "Yes they are, the same as the crimes you have committed are also due. And considering their multitude, they far exceed the severity of any claim you could make against either of the prefects."

  "Well then the punishment that awaits your Nubian prefect is only fitting," Ma-Nefer remarked.

  "Should anything happen to him, I will hand you over to his father, who I can assure you will make you suffer a drawn-out and painful death," Ramesses replied, waving to the guards, "Take him to the whipping post. Tie him there. He is only to receive a piece of bread and water until I receive word from the prefect."

  Ma-Nefer made to object, however, one of the guards again struck him in the face before the others jerked him hard to follow.

  "My lord, what are we to do with all these men, we do not have enough space or provisions to see to all of them." the captain of the guard spoke up.

  "In the morning the slaves can be given the option to go free. I have no use for more slaves in Thebes, and most of them are not strong enough to handle the building work in Pi-Ramesses. Those who have nowhere to go can be sent to the fields of Karnak or Deir-el-Bahari. The others we will starve until I have passed judgment on them, or we have extracted the information I seek."

  "You want me to notify the whip wielders?"

  "No, tomorrow we will go through this place. I want those men to suffer what they put others through and make them understand that one should not raise the wrath of Ramesses."

  "And the prefect?"

  Ramesses looked at the captain of the guard as he spoke, "No one was to know about that, however, now that it is known, I hope the others find him."

  * * *

  The evening air had already cooled substantially when Shabaka neared the oasis. Earlier in the day he had felt the difference in the air, it was moist, and indicative that he was approaching water. He had pushed on, intent on getting as far as possible, but it was only by chance that he encountered the oasis, for he had not sought one after having filled his water skin and burying the crate at a small well before he began walking.

  He slowed his pace as he looked over the area, trying to determine how many families were present. He knew it would be safer for him to approach if there were several families camping there. Although in his current state he would be seen as a slave who had escaped his master, which in itself could see him handled roughly by the men if they thought him a threat.

  He carefully approached, having seen several different tents. There were some date palms near the oasis, and he hoped that they had some fruit he could eat. Even though he disliked the taste, they would at last make it easier for him to sleep.

  He progressed past the first tent and lifted his hand in greeting to the man as he continued to walk to the water's edge. He passed another and again lifted his hand, thankful to notice the presence of children. At the water's edge he took the stopper out of his water skin and lowered the skin into the water, allowing it to fill as he looked around.

  "You had better not be looking for trouble," a harsh voice spoke next to him, causing him to turn and look at the man. His voice made Shabaka belie
ve him to be a large man, however, he was not as large as Moses. But like Moses, the man was a Hebrew.

  "I seek no trouble, only some water," and he pointed to the tree, "some dates, and a place to rest for the evening."

  "You do not speak like a slave, yet you are marked like one," the man said, as Shabaka retrieved his water skin. He looked at Shabaka's hands and nodded, "You are also not a thief."

  Shabaka looked at the man, for a moment considering just how much he should divulge, but decided to go with the truth. "It is my first time on this path, and I was separated from the others during a sandstorm yesterday."

  The man looked him over for several moments, although Shabaka was well accustomed to other's scrutiny, before the man finally spoke. "You would not be the first to be taken this way against your will, but your marks tell me a different story."

  "It is not one for me to tell. I seek only to find my group."

  "Why? You are free. There is nothing but trouble for one such as you on this side."

  Shabaka, misunderstanding the man's words, asked, "They do not welcome Nubians?"

  "They have no trouble with Nubians, but you will be taken for a slave and will be recaptured and sold."

  Shabaka reminded himself that he had little more than a loin cloth on.

  "I will have to find different clothing," he finally acknowledged, "but first I must get some dates for my meal."

  "There are hardly any worth eating," the man cautioned.

  "It will have to suffice."

  The man shook his head as he spoke, "For one of rank you are very unassuming."

  "What does that mean?" Shabaka was quick to reply.

  "I have watched many people in my years. A person of rank not only speaks well but has a certain way of holding himself. It is something that is not easily copied. Come, you can share my bread, and tell me what it is you seek in the city near the water, for that is where I assume you are going. I might be able to help you."