The Mummifier's Daughter by @burns_writer is #free November 1st - 5th #historical
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The Mummifier´s Daughter
by Nathaniel Burns
FREE on Amazon November 1st - 5th
Ancient Egypt, 1233 BC
This is Young Neti-Kerty‘s dream: To follow in her father’s footsteps and become the first femalemummifier in Thebes. Shabaka, the secretive Prefect, the Pharaoh’s special envoy charged with combating crime in the capital of the Pharaoh’s empire, also often makes use of Neti Kerty’s special talents. With her powers of deduction and knowledge of the dead, she has already helped solve many crimes.
But then the unimaginable happens. Her parents are cruelly murdered, and Neti-Kerty’s small, idyllic world shatters. Together with Shabaka the Prefect, she embarks on the search for her parents‘ murderer. Surviving many shared adventures, they stumble upon a monstrous conspiracy...
An excerpt from
The Mummifier´s Daughter
Click here to read more of this excerpt.
The young boy almost seemed to be skipping in front of her, his tanned skin glowing in the twilight, his movements rattling the bracelets and necklaces he wore. Their bulk indicated that he was the eldest son in his family. His hair was shorn with the usual side-lock to the right, and his bare feet hardly seemed to touch the still hot road as he proceeded along it.
Neti-Kerty could feel the heat of the road through the soles of her reed-woven sandals, as she followed him up another pathway and into the more affluent neighborhoods of Thebes. The heat released by the mud-brick buildings, along with that from the roads, became oppressive on most days, even for those acclimatized to the searing Egyptian sun. Even after sunset, it would take a while before the air cooled to more pleasant temperatures.
The scents of coriander flavored flatbread, beer and fried meat permeated the air around her as she made her way through the area where most of Thebes’ merchants and traders lived. They would be entertaining guests, or possibly courting, unlike her, who had to tend to yet another of Shabaka’s requests. Not that she minded. It just seemed that he was calling upon her more often of late.
She hastened to follow the boy, having lost her train of thought for a minute to the alluring scents surrounding her. She had not yet had time to eat, as she had spent most of the day assisting her father, who was aging and no longer as agile as he used to be, with the wadding of two bodies.
The work had rendered her skull itchy under her wig and her slip seemed stuck to her body as she moved. She had earlier excused herself from her parents’ company and had been on her way to the river to bathe, wanting to wash away the stench of the dead and the salts they used, when the young boy had found her. And although she had not wished to present herself in such a fashion, the boy had stressed the urgency of the summons and beckoned for her immediate departure.
The closer they came to the home of the deceased man, the more crowded the street became. —Do these people not have homes to go to?— she thought as the boy started to move into the crowd of onlookers, all shuffling to get a better view. The scent of sweat, beer and dust filled the air, and had it not been for the fact that Neti was used to far more pungent human odors, and that her presence had been requested, she would have definitely turned away and returned home. The acidic scent lingered in her nose, as hot bodies brushed against her own.
A low and familiar murmur started up in the crowd as she moved through it, and soon enough those closest to her started pushing back. Many looked disdainfully at her and some even spat on the road as she passed them, ensuring they remained well clear as she continued unhindered through the remainder of the crowd.
The boy, without looking back, continued through the group and came to a halt at a doorway, where moments later Shabaka appeared to address him. The boy pointed in Neti’s direction, and Shabaka turned his head to follow his indication, smiling slightly in greeting before turning his attention back to the boy and dismissing him.
Neti-Kerty smiled in return, and moved closer to the dark skinned Nubian. He had a better physique than other men his age, and had worked tirelessly to secure his position as Prefect of Thebes, a position authorized by their pharaoh Ramesses II himself.
Neti-Kerty and Shabaka shared a kinship, in that no-one in the town really held much regard for either of them.
“Evening Neti-Kerty,” he greeted her as she arrived at the doorway, nodding his head and smiling warmly at her. ‘Thank you for coming.”
“Prefect Shabaka,” she respectfully replied, lowering her gaze slightly. Her heart sped up at his smile. He was one of the few who treated her as an equal.
“He has been dead for a while I am afraid – his body has swollen already,” Shabaka said as they turned to enter the house. “And he stinks,” he added as Neti-Kerty stepped past him and into the home.
The prevailing low hum in the crowd suddenly erupted, with an elderly woman shouting, “She should not be allowed in there. She will banish his soul to the underworld. The witch of the dead she is.” Many of the onlookers around her nodded in agreement, adding their voices to the accusation. “She is cursed, we do not want her here.”
Shabaka looked out over the rowdy crowd before lifting his hand to silence them and asserting, “She is here by my request, and that is as we will leave it.”
“You cursed Nubian, my father used to kill the likes of you. And he was right. No good comes from your kind,” a man not far from the woman spoke up. “The pharaoh is crazy if he thinks your people would have any respect for our dead,” the man concluded, looking around him for support.
“Your kind will let that witch curse the soul of a trader,” an elderly man shouted from the back.
Shabaka glanced out over the crowd before shaking his head slightly, and then turned from them to enter the house, steeling himself against the stench of rotting flesh.
Inside, Neti-Kerty walked about the room. She glanced around before finally coming to a standstill next to the body. Her breathing was distanced and shallow to avoid drawing in too much of the stench.
Shabaka watched as she made her way around the room again, her eyes scanning certain objects, before he spoke up. “There’s no indication of blood having run from his body, and he is still young,” he said, causing Neti to turn and look at him. “I don’t know why he is dead.”
Neti turned her attention back to the corpse, “His name is Nembetsen, the fourth son of Mindef the trader. He was one of the children that used to call me names,” she added, addressing the man who was but a few years older than herself.
“You knew him then?” Shabaka asked her pointedly.
“Everyone knew him. He was one of the clever boys. He could outsmart anyone,” she said as she crouched next to the body.
“Any idea what could have caused this?’ Shabaka asked, drawing her attention to the room that was in slight disarray.
“He is too young to have died from problems with his body,” Neti started as she looked more closely at the man’s face, before reaching out to pull his wig from his head. Then turning her head to look at Shabaka, she continued, “But you knew that already, or you would not have sent for me.”
“You have any idea what could have caused his death, or if he was even killed by someone?” Shabaka asked as he came to stand next to her.
Neti rose up from where she was crouched. “There’s nothing on the table any more, but it could have been removed or taken by a poor person. He is alone, not yet married, which would have made any meal he ate simple – bread, beer, with some meat.” Neti’s eyes swept about the room. “There is a dark mark on the floor, where he could have spilt his beer.” She thrust out an arm, indicating a darkened patch on the floor next to the table. “However, he has been dead for a while.”
Neti then glanced at Shabaka. “I need to turn him over to have a look at his front.”
“I’ll help you with that,” Shabaka said, stepping closer, moving into position so that he could help her turn over the swollen body. After completing this, he rose, grimacing, visibly put off by the stench and the appearance.
Neti looked the body over, taking note of the slight amount of blood having run from his mouth, checking the man’s eyes.
Just then, Pa-Nasi, the Mayor of Thebes came into the room, demanding in a booming voice, “What is she doing here?” pointing at Neti. “The citizens outside are in an uproar!”
Shabaka looked at the man and calmly replied, “I sent for her. I wanted her to have a look at the body. There is no wound and not enough blood loss for him to have died.”
“But you cannot have a woman in here, especially not her!” the mayor boomed, gesticulating wildly. “It is unheard of!” he screamed before covering his mouth, noticeably gagging at the stench.
“Neti works with bodies every day. There is very little she has not seen,” Shabaka replied calmly.
“You think I do not know who she is?” the mayor countered loudly, his arms once again flying. “Or the old fool who is her father. He angers the gods with his actions.” The mayor took a step towards Neti but then stepped back because of the odor, opting to remain near the doorway. “Who has ever heard of a female embalmer? She does not have the strength or purity to be considered as such,” he continued, waving his hand dismissively at her.
Neti simply ignored Pa-Nasi, and continued with her assessment.
“Look at the body. Already he is cursed,” the mayor once again remonstrated, “with his belly swollen like a rotting goat. He cannot be buried like that.”
“What brings you here, mayor,” Shabaka asked, stepping between the mayor and Neti, effectively blocking the man’s vision of her. “You do not usually concern yourself with the death of a trader.”
“I heard of the death of Mindef the trader’s son from one of my footmen. Mindef is a good friend of mine,” the mayor professed, trying to see past Shabaka to what Neti was doing.
—Good source of bribes you mean — Neti thought as she continued to assess the body.
“His father will be livid that you have a woman in here, especially her,” the mayor scowled, before bitingly adding, “The witch of the dead.”
“Just because you do not understand what she does, does not mean that it is sorcery,” Shabaka countered the man.
“What else could it be? None of the other embalmers claim to have this skill,” the mayor loudly decreed.
His words caused Neti to take a deep breath, before quietly replying, “Because their only concern is the money they receive for the body to be embalmed. They have no interest in what may have caused the death.”
“And she dares to talk back!” Pa-Nasi exclaimed. “You will not address me unless you are first addressed. Is that understood, woman?”
“It is understood, O Mayor. So I won’t tell you what happened,” Neti said, rising from her position next to the body.
“And just what does your sorcery say happened?” the mayor challenged her. Neti regarded him for a moment before turning her attention to Shabaka.
“What I can tell you is that he was dead long before sunrise today. The stiffness that comes after death has worn off and his body has swollen in the heat,” Neti began before turning toward the body. “From these marks here I can tell you he died with his face to the ground. All the blood lies on this side, meaning that when his heart stopped beating, everything sank down.” She drew a finger close to the surface of the skin, indicating the marks on the body.
“You still have not told us how he died,” the mayor challenged her.
Neti looked at Pa-Nasi for a moment before stepping slightly back from the body. “He was poisoned,” she flatly stated, glaring at the man. “And I suspect it was in his food.”
“There is no food here!” the mayor remonstrated once again, using wide gestures to demonstrate the absence of food in the room. “Do you see any?”
“It could have been removed,” she calmly replied, turning her attention to Shabaka instead.
“From his position on the floor, it is safe to say that he was seated at the table, possibly eating. The poison in his food then took hold causing him to get up, but he stumbled and fell, knocking his beer to the floor...”
“Now there is beer too,” the mayor inserted, cutting Neti short.
Neti took a deep breath to steady her temper before continuing. “When he fell to the ground, he bumped his head. There is a mark on his forehead. He also bit his tongue. See the blood from his mouth,” she continued. “He then shook, as we can see from the ground around him. His Ba was fighting against his body dying,” she concluded as she glanced at Shabaka.
“And just what poison would have been used?” Pa-Nasi asked with a scowl. “For there is none I know of that can cause this.”
Neti regarded the mayor for a moment, not happy with his tone or his sudden change of attitude. Then, looking at Shabaka, who nodded his head slightly, she continued, “The dark areas of his eyes are enlarged, and the smell from him indicates that he has consumed either the purple death berry, or leaves of the plant.”
“Ha!” the mayor snorted in response, before muttering, “No adult would consume those.”
“That is why he has been murdered,” Neti said, looking at Shabaka. “No man would willingly consume the purple death berry. It would have been put in his food or pressed and added to his beer. He would not risk damnation in the afterlife.”
“And you claim to know this by looking at him?” the mayor returned disbelievingly, adding, “You are a witch.”
Just then, another man entered the house, halting in his tracks as he looked at those in the room. “What is that witch doing here?” he demanded, pointing at Neti. “It is enough that Nembetsen played around her as a child. I do not want her here. She must leave now, before she taints my brother’s Ba,” the man angrily spoke.
“She is here by my request,” Shabaka firmly returned.
“She will curse him and my entire family in the afterlife. I want her out of here and another embalmer to take care of his body,” the man insisted.
“She is not here to collect him for embalmment,” Shabaka replied angrily.
“I do not care. The witch of the dead is not welcome in this house,” the man shouted, pointing towards the door. “She will either leave now, or I shall throw her out.”
“This is your brother’s house. You cannot speak for the dead,” Shabaka replied quietly.
“It is all right Shabaka. I am done here. He was murdered,” Neti said, marching across to stand next to Shabaka.
“Ha! Murder! There are no signs of injury,” Nembetsen’s brother proclaimed.
Neti regarded the newcomer pointedly before calmly answering, “Your brother was a young man of good health. He has no wounds that are angered. He has no part that is broken or bruised. His face is not blue from something stuck in his throat, yet he is dead.” Noting how the man’s eyes were enlarged, she continued, “His eyes are all seeing, wide open. It is one of the things the purple death berries do.” Nembetsen’s brother was about to speak when she continued, “The berries caused his Ba to leave his body. But he would not have chosen such a path himself, for he knew that his Ka would remain trapped, and, that at the weighing of the heart, he would be judged unworthy and his heart eaten by Ammit. No, he would not have wanted that,” Neti said, shaking her head slightly. “There is no other cause that I can see. His skull is not fractured either,” she finished, watching as the brother gathered his thoughts.
“I do not believe you,” he countered. “Nembetsen had no enemies, none that wished him ill.”
“I cannot tell you why he was murdered, only that he has been,” said Neti. “Shabaka is charged with discovering why it was done.”
Just then, the embalmer Marelep entered the room and noticed Neti with the others. “Is he one of yours?” the man asked Neti as he pointed at the corpse. “I was told that I should collect the body.”
“No, Marelep, he is not one of ours,” Neti addressed the embalmer. “Shabaka summoned me to look at the body, but you can take him. The family has already stated that I am not to touch him.”
Marelep nodded his head in response and stepped closer to the body.
“You have no problem with her being close to the body?” the mayor disbelievingly asked the embalmer. “Surely Anubis, the God of the dead souls, will be offended at her presence.”
“She is as good as the most seasoned of embalmers,” Marelep said, stepping up to the body. “Her father has taught her everything he knows since her childhood. She understands the dead, knows their bodies, and respects them more than others who practice the trade.” He quietly added, “He has been dead for a while already.”
Neti simply nodded at that.
“Ha!” the mayor said as he moved next to Nembetsen’s brother, who was overseeing his brother’s body. “You embalmers charge too much for your work.”
Maralep glanced towards the mayor, before speaking. “Each body takes two moons to prepare. Embalming it is not done overnight. You have no respect for a craft that ensures a serene afterlife,” he bitingly responded, before stressing, “Our careful preparations ensure that your arm is not broken off in the process, and that you do not look like this man,” he said pointing to the body before him. “Let’s hope that the priests’ prayers succeed in releasing his Ka,” he concluded.
The mayor huffed in response, then waved a dismissive hand before turning and taking his leave, mumbling slightly under his breath.
Shabaka looked at Neti for a moment, before speaking. “Come. I will walk home with you. I cannot have anyone harm you for coming at my request.” Neti smiled at him and nodded her head slightly, before turning and stepping out of the house.
Most of the crowd had dispersed when they reappeared, but some still remained and regarded her with disgust as she passed them. Neti and Shabaka quietly walked side by side through the streets, the heat slowly dissipating from the buildings as the darkness came to settle about them.
As they approached her parents’ home, Neti spoke up. “I should invite you in for dinner, for I am certain you have not eaten.”
Shabaka smiled sheepishly at that. “Your parents will not mind having me in their home?” he carefully asked.
“My parents are not like many of the others. To us all men are the same. The color of your skin does not determine the person you are, or how you should be treated.”
“This from the only other person in Thebes who knows what it is like to be discriminated against,” Shabaka quietly replied.
“I try not to let it bother me,” Neti sincerely responded.
“It will not help you with finding a husband one day,” Shabaka uncertainly returned.
“If he cannot accept me for who I am, then I do not want him,” she firmly replied as they arrived at the house. “So you will break bread with us?” she asked as they halted at the door.
“If your parents will allow, then yes, I would like to break bread with you,” he replied, indicating for her to proceed.
Neti loosened her shawl as she opened the door, immediately coming to a standstill on recognizing the copper tang of fresh blood in the air.
—There is no reason for there to be blood in the house, and so much that I can smell it so strongly — Neti thought as she stepped into the room. “Shabaka,” she called quietly and heard the door creak behind her. “Something is wrong,” she stated as she moved into the house. “Mother? Father? Where are you?” she called as she made her way to their room. Shabaka followed not far behind her.
She halted with a gasp as she came to her parents’ door, the smell overwhelmingly strong. Her hands flew to cover her mouth as she gaped at the sight before her. Her heart pounded in her chest, her chest constricting, limiting her ability to breathe freely. She repeatedly gasped for air, at first unable to make a sound, as the tears started streaming down her cheeks. “No!” She finally managed to get the bewildering wail out.
Her wail brought Shabaka to the room, as Neti moved toward her parents lying in their blood-soaked bed. Noting the cruel and crude way their hearts had been cut from their bodies, she grasped her mother’s shoulders, pulling her closer. “No, Mamma, no! You can’t go!” she cried, shaking her head and swaying back and forth while holding her mother. As the sobs escaped her she looked around the room, noticing the blood patterns all over the walls.
“I will find those who did this to you,” she gasped between her sobs, “the ones who condemned you. I will find them.” Looking toward her father, she promised, more calmly, “I will make sure you receive your Akh.”
Shabaka stood in the doorway, stunned, bearing witness to the scene before him, the young woman he had come to know so well over the past two seasons, holding on to her mother, tears streaming down her cheeks, as she vowed to find the ones who had done this to her parents.
In all his time as a prefect, he had never seen as much blood, never seen two bodies emptied of their hearts. Just then, he turned from the room, heading for the door, barely making it to the street before gagging dryly, thankful that he had not yet eaten. —I will help her fulfill that promise to her parents— he told himself. —The ones responsible will be found.
Neti-Kerty could feel the heat of the road through the soles of her reed-woven sandals, as she followed him up another pathway and into the more affluent neighborhoods of Thebes. The heat released by the mud-brick buildings, along with that from the roads, became oppressive on most days, even for those acclimatized to the searing Egyptian sun. Even after sunset, it would take a while before the air cooled to more pleasant temperatures.
The scents of coriander flavored flatbread, beer and fried meat permeated the air around her as she made her way through the area where most of Thebes’ merchants and traders lived. They would be entertaining guests, or possibly courting, unlike her, who had to tend to yet another of Shabaka’s requests. Not that she minded. It just seemed that he was calling upon her more often of late.
She hastened to follow the boy, having lost her train of thought for a minute to the alluring scents surrounding her. She had not yet had time to eat, as she had spent most of the day assisting her father, who was aging and no longer as agile as he used to be, with the wadding of two bodies.
The work had rendered her skull itchy under her wig and her slip seemed stuck to her body as she moved. She had earlier excused herself from her parents’ company and had been on her way to the river to bathe, wanting to wash away the stench of the dead and the salts they used, when the young boy had found her. And although she had not wished to present herself in such a fashion, the boy had stressed the urgency of the summons and beckoned for her immediate departure.
The closer they came to the home of the deceased man, the more crowded the street became. —Do these people not have homes to go to?— she thought as the boy started to move into the crowd of onlookers, all shuffling to get a better view. The scent of sweat, beer and dust filled the air, and had it not been for the fact that Neti was used to far more pungent human odors, and that her presence had been requested, she would have definitely turned away and returned home. The acidic scent lingered in her nose, as hot bodies brushed against her own.
A low and familiar murmur started up in the crowd as she moved through it, and soon enough those closest to her started pushing back. Many looked disdainfully at her and some even spat on the road as she passed them, ensuring they remained well clear as she continued unhindered through the remainder of the crowd.
The boy, without looking back, continued through the group and came to a halt at a doorway, where moments later Shabaka appeared to address him. The boy pointed in Neti’s direction, and Shabaka turned his head to follow his indication, smiling slightly in greeting before turning his attention back to the boy and dismissing him.
Neti-Kerty smiled in return, and moved closer to the dark skinned Nubian. He had a better physique than other men his age, and had worked tirelessly to secure his position as Prefect of Thebes, a position authorized by their pharaoh Ramesses II himself.
Neti-Kerty and Shabaka shared a kinship, in that no-one in the town really held much regard for either of them.
“Evening Neti-Kerty,” he greeted her as she arrived at the doorway, nodding his head and smiling warmly at her. ‘Thank you for coming.”
“Prefect Shabaka,” she respectfully replied, lowering her gaze slightly. Her heart sped up at his smile. He was one of the few who treated her as an equal.
“He has been dead for a while I am afraid – his body has swollen already,” Shabaka said as they turned to enter the house. “And he stinks,” he added as Neti-Kerty stepped past him and into the home.
The prevailing low hum in the crowd suddenly erupted, with an elderly woman shouting, “She should not be allowed in there. She will banish his soul to the underworld. The witch of the dead she is.” Many of the onlookers around her nodded in agreement, adding their voices to the accusation. “She is cursed, we do not want her here.”
Shabaka looked out over the rowdy crowd before lifting his hand to silence them and asserting, “She is here by my request, and that is as we will leave it.”
“You cursed Nubian, my father used to kill the likes of you. And he was right. No good comes from your kind,” a man not far from the woman spoke up. “The pharaoh is crazy if he thinks your people would have any respect for our dead,” the man concluded, looking around him for support.
“Your kind will let that witch curse the soul of a trader,” an elderly man shouted from the back.
Shabaka glanced out over the crowd before shaking his head slightly, and then turned from them to enter the house, steeling himself against the stench of rotting flesh.
Inside, Neti-Kerty walked about the room. She glanced around before finally coming to a standstill next to the body. Her breathing was distanced and shallow to avoid drawing in too much of the stench.
Shabaka watched as she made her way around the room again, her eyes scanning certain objects, before he spoke up. “There’s no indication of blood having run from his body, and he is still young,” he said, causing Neti to turn and look at him. “I don’t know why he is dead.”
Neti turned her attention back to the corpse, “His name is Nembetsen, the fourth son of Mindef the trader. He was one of the children that used to call me names,” she added, addressing the man who was but a few years older than herself.
“You knew him then?” Shabaka asked her pointedly.
“Everyone knew him. He was one of the clever boys. He could outsmart anyone,” she said as she crouched next to the body.
“Any idea what could have caused this?’ Shabaka asked, drawing her attention to the room that was in slight disarray.
“He is too young to have died from problems with his body,” Neti started as she looked more closely at the man’s face, before reaching out to pull his wig from his head. Then turning her head to look at Shabaka, she continued, “But you knew that already, or you would not have sent for me.”
“You have any idea what could have caused his death, or if he was even killed by someone?” Shabaka asked as he came to stand next to her.
Neti rose up from where she was crouched. “There’s nothing on the table any more, but it could have been removed or taken by a poor person. He is alone, not yet married, which would have made any meal he ate simple – bread, beer, with some meat.” Neti’s eyes swept about the room. “There is a dark mark on the floor, where he could have spilt his beer.” She thrust out an arm, indicating a darkened patch on the floor next to the table. “However, he has been dead for a while.”
Neti then glanced at Shabaka. “I need to turn him over to have a look at his front.”
“I’ll help you with that,” Shabaka said, stepping closer, moving into position so that he could help her turn over the swollen body. After completing this, he rose, grimacing, visibly put off by the stench and the appearance.
Neti looked the body over, taking note of the slight amount of blood having run from his mouth, checking the man’s eyes.
Just then, Pa-Nasi, the Mayor of Thebes came into the room, demanding in a booming voice, “What is she doing here?” pointing at Neti. “The citizens outside are in an uproar!”
Shabaka looked at the man and calmly replied, “I sent for her. I wanted her to have a look at the body. There is no wound and not enough blood loss for him to have died.”
“But you cannot have a woman in here, especially not her!” the mayor boomed, gesticulating wildly. “It is unheard of!” he screamed before covering his mouth, noticeably gagging at the stench.
“Neti works with bodies every day. There is very little she has not seen,” Shabaka replied calmly.
“You think I do not know who she is?” the mayor countered loudly, his arms once again flying. “Or the old fool who is her father. He angers the gods with his actions.” The mayor took a step towards Neti but then stepped back because of the odor, opting to remain near the doorway. “Who has ever heard of a female embalmer? She does not have the strength or purity to be considered as such,” he continued, waving his hand dismissively at her.
Neti simply ignored Pa-Nasi, and continued with her assessment.
“Look at the body. Already he is cursed,” the mayor once again remonstrated, “with his belly swollen like a rotting goat. He cannot be buried like that.”
“What brings you here, mayor,” Shabaka asked, stepping between the mayor and Neti, effectively blocking the man’s vision of her. “You do not usually concern yourself with the death of a trader.”
“I heard of the death of Mindef the trader’s son from one of my footmen. Mindef is a good friend of mine,” the mayor professed, trying to see past Shabaka to what Neti was doing.
—Good source of bribes you mean — Neti thought as she continued to assess the body.
“His father will be livid that you have a woman in here, especially her,” the mayor scowled, before bitingly adding, “The witch of the dead.”
“Just because you do not understand what she does, does not mean that it is sorcery,” Shabaka countered the man.
“What else could it be? None of the other embalmers claim to have this skill,” the mayor loudly decreed.
His words caused Neti to take a deep breath, before quietly replying, “Because their only concern is the money they receive for the body to be embalmed. They have no interest in what may have caused the death.”
“And she dares to talk back!” Pa-Nasi exclaimed. “You will not address me unless you are first addressed. Is that understood, woman?”
“It is understood, O Mayor. So I won’t tell you what happened,” Neti said, rising from her position next to the body.
“And just what does your sorcery say happened?” the mayor challenged her. Neti regarded him for a moment before turning her attention to Shabaka.
“What I can tell you is that he was dead long before sunrise today. The stiffness that comes after death has worn off and his body has swollen in the heat,” Neti began before turning toward the body. “From these marks here I can tell you he died with his face to the ground. All the blood lies on this side, meaning that when his heart stopped beating, everything sank down.” She drew a finger close to the surface of the skin, indicating the marks on the body.
“You still have not told us how he died,” the mayor challenged her.
Neti looked at Pa-Nasi for a moment before stepping slightly back from the body. “He was poisoned,” she flatly stated, glaring at the man. “And I suspect it was in his food.”
“There is no food here!” the mayor remonstrated once again, using wide gestures to demonstrate the absence of food in the room. “Do you see any?”
“It could have been removed,” she calmly replied, turning her attention to Shabaka instead.
“From his position on the floor, it is safe to say that he was seated at the table, possibly eating. The poison in his food then took hold causing him to get up, but he stumbled and fell, knocking his beer to the floor...”
“Now there is beer too,” the mayor inserted, cutting Neti short.
Neti took a deep breath to steady her temper before continuing. “When he fell to the ground, he bumped his head. There is a mark on his forehead. He also bit his tongue. See the blood from his mouth,” she continued. “He then shook, as we can see from the ground around him. His Ba was fighting against his body dying,” she concluded as she glanced at Shabaka.
“And just what poison would have been used?” Pa-Nasi asked with a scowl. “For there is none I know of that can cause this.”
Neti regarded the mayor for a moment, not happy with his tone or his sudden change of attitude. Then, looking at Shabaka, who nodded his head slightly, she continued, “The dark areas of his eyes are enlarged, and the smell from him indicates that he has consumed either the purple death berry, or leaves of the plant.”
“Ha!” the mayor snorted in response, before muttering, “No adult would consume those.”
“That is why he has been murdered,” Neti said, looking at Shabaka. “No man would willingly consume the purple death berry. It would have been put in his food or pressed and added to his beer. He would not risk damnation in the afterlife.”
“And you claim to know this by looking at him?” the mayor returned disbelievingly, adding, “You are a witch.”
Just then, another man entered the house, halting in his tracks as he looked at those in the room. “What is that witch doing here?” he demanded, pointing at Neti. “It is enough that Nembetsen played around her as a child. I do not want her here. She must leave now, before she taints my brother’s Ba,” the man angrily spoke.
“She is here by my request,” Shabaka firmly returned.
“She will curse him and my entire family in the afterlife. I want her out of here and another embalmer to take care of his body,” the man insisted.
“She is not here to collect him for embalmment,” Shabaka replied angrily.
“I do not care. The witch of the dead is not welcome in this house,” the man shouted, pointing towards the door. “She will either leave now, or I shall throw her out.”
“This is your brother’s house. You cannot speak for the dead,” Shabaka replied quietly.
“It is all right Shabaka. I am done here. He was murdered,” Neti said, marching across to stand next to Shabaka.
“Ha! Murder! There are no signs of injury,” Nembetsen’s brother proclaimed.
Neti regarded the newcomer pointedly before calmly answering, “Your brother was a young man of good health. He has no wounds that are angered. He has no part that is broken or bruised. His face is not blue from something stuck in his throat, yet he is dead.” Noting how the man’s eyes were enlarged, she continued, “His eyes are all seeing, wide open. It is one of the things the purple death berries do.” Nembetsen’s brother was about to speak when she continued, “The berries caused his Ba to leave his body. But he would not have chosen such a path himself, for he knew that his Ka would remain trapped, and, that at the weighing of the heart, he would be judged unworthy and his heart eaten by Ammit. No, he would not have wanted that,” Neti said, shaking her head slightly. “There is no other cause that I can see. His skull is not fractured either,” she finished, watching as the brother gathered his thoughts.
“I do not believe you,” he countered. “Nembetsen had no enemies, none that wished him ill.”
“I cannot tell you why he was murdered, only that he has been,” said Neti. “Shabaka is charged with discovering why it was done.”
Just then, the embalmer Marelep entered the room and noticed Neti with the others. “Is he one of yours?” the man asked Neti as he pointed at the corpse. “I was told that I should collect the body.”
“No, Marelep, he is not one of ours,” Neti addressed the embalmer. “Shabaka summoned me to look at the body, but you can take him. The family has already stated that I am not to touch him.”
Marelep nodded his head in response and stepped closer to the body.
“You have no problem with her being close to the body?” the mayor disbelievingly asked the embalmer. “Surely Anubis, the God of the dead souls, will be offended at her presence.”
“She is as good as the most seasoned of embalmers,” Marelep said, stepping up to the body. “Her father has taught her everything he knows since her childhood. She understands the dead, knows their bodies, and respects them more than others who practice the trade.” He quietly added, “He has been dead for a while already.”
Neti simply nodded at that.
“Ha!” the mayor said as he moved next to Nembetsen’s brother, who was overseeing his brother’s body. “You embalmers charge too much for your work.”
Maralep glanced towards the mayor, before speaking. “Each body takes two moons to prepare. Embalming it is not done overnight. You have no respect for a craft that ensures a serene afterlife,” he bitingly responded, before stressing, “Our careful preparations ensure that your arm is not broken off in the process, and that you do not look like this man,” he said pointing to the body before him. “Let’s hope that the priests’ prayers succeed in releasing his Ka,” he concluded.
The mayor huffed in response, then waved a dismissive hand before turning and taking his leave, mumbling slightly under his breath.
Shabaka looked at Neti for a moment, before speaking. “Come. I will walk home with you. I cannot have anyone harm you for coming at my request.” Neti smiled at him and nodded her head slightly, before turning and stepping out of the house.
Most of the crowd had dispersed when they reappeared, but some still remained and regarded her with disgust as she passed them. Neti and Shabaka quietly walked side by side through the streets, the heat slowly dissipating from the buildings as the darkness came to settle about them.
As they approached her parents’ home, Neti spoke up. “I should invite you in for dinner, for I am certain you have not eaten.”
Shabaka smiled sheepishly at that. “Your parents will not mind having me in their home?” he carefully asked.
“My parents are not like many of the others. To us all men are the same. The color of your skin does not determine the person you are, or how you should be treated.”
“This from the only other person in Thebes who knows what it is like to be discriminated against,” Shabaka quietly replied.
“I try not to let it bother me,” Neti sincerely responded.
“It will not help you with finding a husband one day,” Shabaka uncertainly returned.
“If he cannot accept me for who I am, then I do not want him,” she firmly replied as they arrived at the house. “So you will break bread with us?” she asked as they halted at the door.
“If your parents will allow, then yes, I would like to break bread with you,” he replied, indicating for her to proceed.
Neti loosened her shawl as she opened the door, immediately coming to a standstill on recognizing the copper tang of fresh blood in the air.
—There is no reason for there to be blood in the house, and so much that I can smell it so strongly — Neti thought as she stepped into the room. “Shabaka,” she called quietly and heard the door creak behind her. “Something is wrong,” she stated as she moved into the house. “Mother? Father? Where are you?” she called as she made her way to their room. Shabaka followed not far behind her.
She halted with a gasp as she came to her parents’ door, the smell overwhelmingly strong. Her hands flew to cover her mouth as she gaped at the sight before her. Her heart pounded in her chest, her chest constricting, limiting her ability to breathe freely. She repeatedly gasped for air, at first unable to make a sound, as the tears started streaming down her cheeks. “No!” She finally managed to get the bewildering wail out.
Her wail brought Shabaka to the room, as Neti moved toward her parents lying in their blood-soaked bed. Noting the cruel and crude way their hearts had been cut from their bodies, she grasped her mother’s shoulders, pulling her closer. “No, Mamma, no! You can’t go!” she cried, shaking her head and swaying back and forth while holding her mother. As the sobs escaped her she looked around the room, noticing the blood patterns all over the walls.
“I will find those who did this to you,” she gasped between her sobs, “the ones who condemned you. I will find them.” Looking toward her father, she promised, more calmly, “I will make sure you receive your Akh.”
Shabaka stood in the doorway, stunned, bearing witness to the scene before him, the young woman he had come to know so well over the past two seasons, holding on to her mother, tears streaming down her cheeks, as she vowed to find the ones who had done this to her parents.
In all his time as a prefect, he had never seen as much blood, never seen two bodies emptied of their hearts. Just then, he turned from the room, heading for the door, barely making it to the street before gagging dryly, thankful that he had not yet eaten. —I will help her fulfill that promise to her parents— he told himself. —The ones responsible will be found.
What fans are saying
"CSI: Ancient Egypt! Neti was a strong character that I quickly came to care about."
—Wendy Scott,
Fantasy Author of
The Windflowers
Trilogy Golden Scarab
Fantasy Author of
The Windflowers
Trilogy Golden Scarab
"Burns uses a thrilling hunt for a murderer to skillfully reveal the secret practices of ancient Egypt's embalmers and other of its mysteries."
—Patricia De Hemricourt,
Author of The Divided Island
Author of The Divided Island
"I enjoyed this book immensely. Snappy, action filled plot."
—Edna Lucretia Williams
"This Book will take you on a journey like none you've ever experienced before."
—Jay V.
