The two boys stood looking up the dark shaft. “They’ll come back for us, won’t they?” asked Hapu. “They won’t leave us to die here.”
“Yes they will.”
Hapu turned angrily to Ramose. “Why didn’t you give them the papyrus?”
“It wouldn’t have made any difference,” said Ramose grimly. “You heard what Hori said. They were planning to kill us anyway. He didn’t want to risk us telling someone about their theft. They’re tomb robbers, Hapu. There’s no worse crime. Leaving a couple of apprentices to die is nothing compared to stealing gold from the body of a pharaoh.” Ramose shuddered at the memory of the old pharaoh’s black, leathery skin and his claw-like fingers.
Hapu slumped to the floor. “I don’t want to die.”
“Neither do I,” replied Ramose. “Perhaps there’s another way out.”
“There was, but it’s blocked with a slab of stone that twenty men couldn’t lift.”
“We’ll have to look for another.”
“You’ve still got the papyrus, did it say there was another entrance?”
“The papyrus isn’t that clear.”
“So what was the point of writing it if it doesn’t make sense?”
“It’s a puzzle. Whoever wrote it was giving directions for breaking into the pharaoh’s tomb, but it’s as if he knew it was wrong and he wanted to make it as difficult as possible.”
“We’re going to die,” Hapu said, his voice getting higher. “We’re going to slowly starve to death.” He turned to Ramose with a panicked look in his eyes. “And it’s your fault. You should have given them the papyrus. They might have pulled us up. You could have made up a story about another tomb full of treasure.”
Ramose ignored his friend’s accusations.
“The papyrus mentions other tombs. There might be a connecting passage.”
“Does it say there’s a connecting passage?”
“No,” said Ramose. “We just have to hope there is. Come on, we’re wasting lamp oil sitting here feeling sorry for ourselves. Let’s start searching.”
Ramose picked up the broken lamp and headed down the passage towards the princess’s tomb. As he walked along the passage, he examined the walls, the ceiling and the floor in the lamplight. Hapu walked behind him snivelling.
They reached the burial chamber. Ramose stepped over the pile of broken furniture that Seth had left behind and examined the walls of the recess where he had hidden the princess’s jewellery casket. There were no openings. He went to the other recess and held up the lamp so that it lit the dark corners. There was nothing there either.
“That’s it. We’re stuck here,” said Hapu leaning against the stone wall. “There’s no other possible way out. Perhaps we were meant to die in the flood,” he said. “You can’t avoid death if that’s what the gods want.”
Hapu sounded calmer, as if he had accepted his fate.
Ramose thought of all the times he’d cheated death in the last year: the attempt to poison him back at the palace, his fall from the mountain, the flash flood. He wasn’t about to surrender to death now. Ramose looked at the papyrus.
When day comes, how will tomorrow be?
Life or death we do not know what awaits us.
No man can alter the lifetime that has been granted to him.
The papyrus seemed to be agreeing with Hapu. He read the words over and over again until they lost their meaning and just looked like squiggles on the scroll. He looked into the flickering flame of the oil lamp. Ramose’s mind went blank. He couldn’t create thoughts in his head. The two boys sat for nearly an hour in silence.
Suddenly some words that he’d read earlier popped into the blank space in Ramose’s head. The good servant stands behind her mistress. He jumped to his feet.
“We didn’t look behind the sarcophagus,” he said to Hapu. “I think the tomb of the princess’s servant might be behind this tomb.”
Hapu looked up at Ramose without understanding. The sarcophagus looked as if it was pushed up against the back wall of the chamber, but there was actually a space of about three palm-widths behind. Ramose held the lamp up and peered behind the sarcophagus. All he could see was solid stone wall. Then he noticed a small piece of linen caught under the bottom edge of the sarcophagus. Some unfortunate tomb worker must have got his kilt caught under it as it was lowered into place four hundred years ago.
Ramose held the lamp closer to the scrap of material. It was gently rising and falling as if a soft breeze was lifting it. Ramose got down on his knees and held his hand in front of the fragment of linen. There was a faint breath of air. He squeezed in behind the sarcophagus. He felt around with the toe of his sandal. Down at floor level there was an opening no higher than a stool. There was no room to bend down. Ramose placed his back to the sarcophagus and slid down. He could just get his knees into the hole. He stretched out his feet. It was a small tunnel, but the slight movement of air told him it had to lead somewhere.
“Hapu, come on. I’ve found a tunnel.”
Hapu got up, still in a trance. He peered behind the sarcophagus and saw Ramose disappearing feet first into the wall. He came to life and was soon squeezing in after his friend.
The tunnel was very low. The boys had to wriggle along on their backs pushing themselves along on their elbows. It wasn’t easy. The tunnel was only a few cubits long though. Ramose soon found himself in another chamber. He scrambled to his feet and held up the lamp.
“There are two passages,” he yelled. “One of them must lead somewhere.”
Hapu wriggled out of the passage and got to his feet as well. The boys smiled at each other. Ramose could see his friend’s teeth flash in the lamplight. There was still a hope. Then the lamp flickered and went out and they were plunged into darkness.
“There’s more oil isn’t there?” said Hapu, his voice starting to sound panicky again.
“Yes, there’s oil, but we haven’t got any way of making a flame.”
“Where did the papyrus say this passage leads?”
“It didn’t say anything. The rest of the scroll was torn off.”
“What will we do?” Hapu seemed to think that Ramose could always come up with something.
“I don’t know,” said Ramose.
They stood in silence for a moment while the truth of their situation sunk in.
“We don’t have a choice then,” said Hapu. “We have to see where the passages lead.”
Ramose nodded in the darkness even though he knew Hapu couldn’t see him. But the truth was he was beginning to lose hope. With the darkness all around him he suddenly felt the weight of the earth and stone above him. He felt as if it was crushing him. He gasped for breath, but he could not seem to get any air into his lungs. His legs crumpled underneath him.
“Ramose, what’s wrong?”
Ramose sucked in quick, short breaths, but it didn’t make any difference, he still felt like he was suffocating.
“Come on, Ramose,” Hapu said, trying to pull his friend to his feet. “We have to feel our way along the passages. One of them has to lead somewhere. We can’t give up.”
Ramose didn’t say anything, but his head was filled with thoughts of death. He’d been wrong before. He hadn’t cheated death, he’d just postponed it. The gods wanted him in the underworld and nothing he could do could change that. He didn’t have the power to defy the gods. He felt Hapu’s hand grab his and pull him along the dark passage.
The right-hand passage was high enough for them to walk upright. With his free hand Hapu felt along the walls. It was a roughly carved passage and he tripped more than once on the uneven floor. Ramose allowed himself to be pulled along in a daze.
A change in the air around them told them that the passage had opened out into a larger chamber, but Hapu immediately bumped into something. He felt it with his hands.
“It’s another sarcophagus,” he said. “Just a rough stone one. It must be the tomb of the good servant you mentioned.”
Hapu left Ramose by the sarcophagus and felt his way around the chamber.
“The tomb makers didn’t waste too much time on the servant’s tomb,” he said. “The burial chamber’s only just big enough to fit the sarcophagus. There’s no space around it.”
Ramose heard the sounds of Hapu feeling around the sarcophagus.
“There’s nothing else here,” Hapu said. “We’ll have to go back and try the other passage.”
He took Ramose’s limp hand and led him back down the passage. The other passage was lower, forcing them to stoop.
“It has to lead somewhere,” Hapu kept saying over and over, but Ramose could hear that his confidence was fading with every step.
Hapu stopped suddenly.
“There’s a pile of stones,” he said.
Ramose put out his hands in front of him. He felt the rough surfaces of large boulders piled on top of one another.
“The passage is blocked,” said Hapu.
Ramose could hear the last of the hope drain from his voice.
Ramose reached up to the ceiling of the passageway. The boulders were stacked right to the top and jammed in so tightly that none of them would move. Ramose sat down on the cold stone floor. He was tired. He was hungry. He was thirsty. He could hear Hapu next to him swallowing tears. Ramose was beyond tears. He closed his eyes even though it was dark. Behind his eyelids he could see little flashes of light and swirls of colour. He had forgotten what daylight was like. It was only three days since he’d been bathed in the heat and light of the sun by the river, but it seemed like a dim and distant memory.
He knew now that he would never see daylight again. It was the will of the gods. He would never see his sister Hatshepsut glide into a room like a young goddess. He would never see the flash of Karoya’s smile or hear her ringing laughter. His father would die—he may already be dead. Ramose would never be able to say goodbye. He would never take his father’s place as pharaoh. He would never again see the slow, silent Nile and its rich, fertile valley.
Hapu had stopped crying. They were both waiting for death. Ramose remembered a passage from the papyrus.
Do not give in to the terror of thick darkness. The heart is not made strong if it is not tested. The light that guides you may be invisible.
It was as if whoever wrote the papyrus had known what would happen to them. But Ramose couldn’t help but give in to the darkness. What choice did he have? Perhaps the invisible light would lead him to the afterlife.
Ramose opened his eyes. There was no difference whether his eyes were open or closed. He’d been sleeping. He had no idea for how long. It could have been a few minutes. It could have been many hours. He wondered how long it would take him to die, if it would be painful or if he’d just go to sleep again and never wake up. He was cold. He wished he had his cloak so he could at least die warm. He sat closer to Hapu, so that they could share what little body warmth they had.
Ramose woke suddenly. He’d dreamt that something soft and warm had brushed against his leg. A noise had awoken him. A loud animal sound.
He was definitely awake now, but he felt the sensation again on his chest. It took his breath away. He felt it brushing his face. He could smell something too. A fishy smell. There was another noise, a soft rumbling in his ear. Then he felt sharp teeth sink into his nose. Ramose sat up and reached out. His hands touched something warm, soft and mobile.
“Hapu,” he said. His voice was hoarse. “Hapu, it’s Mery.”
Hapu stirred beside him.
Ramose stroked the cat from its nose to the tip of its long tail. He felt the earring in its left ear and the ceramic Horus eye amulet around its neck.
“It’s not a dream, Hapu. She’s real.”
Ramose reached out and found his friend’s hand and touched it on the cat’s head. Hapu pulled his hand away as if he’d just dipped it in a pot of boiling water. He sat up. Ramose felt him tentatively reach out and touch the cat again.
“Are you sure we’re not imagining her?” said Hapu croakily.
Mery miaowed.
“I’m sure,” said Ramose feeling his mouth shape into a smile. “She bit me on the nose.”
“How did she get here?”
“I don’t know. We have to follow her.”
“How can we do that in the dark?”
“She’s the invisible light.”
Ramose felt for the hem of his kilt. There was a small rip where he’d caught it on a sharp rock as he was lowered into the tomb. He tore it further until he had ripped a strip off the bottom of his kilt. He tied one end to the cat’s collar.
“Okay, Mery,” he said. “Where’s Karoya?”
The cat started to clamber up the rocks blocking the passageway. Hapu held on to the end of the strip of linen. Ramose felt along the length of it.
“Where’s she gone?” he said. “Has the knot come undone?”
“No,” said Hapu. “I can still feel her tugging on it.”
Ramose moved his fingers along the length of linen. He rested his foot on one of the lower rocks so that he could lift himself up. The strip of linen disappeared through the stone barrier.
“Up here,” he shouted, his fingers feeling the rocks in the top corner of the blocked passage. “There’s a hole. It’s tiny. Just small enough for Mery to fit through.”
“That’s no good for us.”
“I can fit my hand through though.” Ramose reached his hand through the small hole. From behind he could loosen a few small stones. They heard the sound of them clattering to the floor on the other side. Ramose strained, his feet were slipping off the smooth surface of the boulders.
“Help me up,” he said.
Hapu knelt down so that Ramose could climb on his back. He reached his arm into the hole up to his armpit. He loosened more small stones, then a larger one about the size of a pomegranate fell away.
“The passage was blocked from the other side,” said Ramose, his breath coming in gasps. “I should be able to…” He strained and grunted. “Get out of the way!”
Ramose pushed a larger rock. It moved only slightly. Ramose pushed again, the exertion was making him feel faint. He gave the rock one final shove and it tumbled into their side of the passageway. Hapu reached up and pulled down more rocks until there was a hole big enough for them to wriggle through. They tumbled into the passage on the other side.
“I’ve lost the linen strip,” Hapu cried out. “I don’t know where Mery is.”
Ramose was lying on the floor where he had landed. He felt the cat nudge his arm. “She’s here!” He reached out and grabbed the linen strip. “She’s leading us. Come on!”
Ramose tried to get to his feet and bumped his head on the passage ceiling. “This passage is very low,” he said. “We’ll have to crawl.”
He felt Mery tug on the linen strip and he followed the cat on his hands and knees.
The passage continued on. Ramose’s knees grew sore. Then his knees bumped into something. His hands were resting on a higher level. He felt angular shapes. He knew this meant something, but he’d been so long in the dark, he couldn’t picture what it was he was feeling.
Slowly an image formed in his mind.
“Steps!” he called out to Hapu. “There are steps leading up.”
He raised his head and above him he could see something bright, something glaringly white. His eyes took a while to make sense of it.
“Daylight!” he said.
It was only a chink of light, but it was dazzling. Ramose stumbled up the steps. Hapu followed him. At the top, Mery disappeared through a small hole. There was a rectangular slab covering the shaft. Ramose and Hapu pushed at the slab. It didn’t move. They could hear noises on the other side. The sound of someone moving rocks off the slab. The boys pushed again. The slab lifted a little, less than a finger-width. Someone pushed a stout piece of wood through the gap. With the help from above, the boys managed to lift the slab far enough so they could clamber out.
The light was blinding. Ramose couldn’t open his eyes. A hand grabbed him and pulled him along. He stumbled forward. The ground began to slope down steeply. Ramose could hear the faint trickle of water. The glare softened and his skin grew cool. He knew they were somewhere shaded from the sun. He could see an image swimming in front of his eyes: a dark circle framed with red and green, and in the middle of it a bright white curve. It was Karoya’s smiling face.