Ramose and the Tomb Robbers (9 page)

“Look!”

Hapu had moved down the passage holding his lamp high. The light from it reflected on something further ahead.

Seth let go of Ramose, held up his own lamp and followed Hapu. In a niche halfway along the passage was a beautiful golden statue of the god Amun with a ram’s head. It was studded with jewels and shone in the lamplight.

“That must be solid gold,” said Seth pushing past Hapu.

“I can’t believe it’s been here for hundreds of years,” Hapu said gazing at the statue. “It looks like it’s just been polished.”

Ramose was reading the papyrus.

“Does it say anything about this tomb on there?” Hapu asked quietly.

“Yes,” whispered Ramose. “It refers to several other tombs. I just didn’t want the tomb robbers to find them.”

Ramose read on. He had an uneasy feeling. “Don’t touch the statue, Seth,” he called out to the robber. “It says here:

He who offends Amun will feel the breath from the lord of eternity’s nostrils. The fist of Osiris will descend to end his hour
.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Seth said. He snatched the papyrus from Ramose and moved closer to the statue. His eyes were sparkling with the light reflected from the statue. “That will melt down into enough gold ingots to last a lifetime.”

Seth was so entranced by the shining object that he’d forgotten that Ramose had said there was nothing about the tomb on the papyrus.

Ramose looked anxiously around the passage. He noticed a dark patch on the ceiling. He realised it was a hole, a black slot about four palm-widths wide cut in the smooth limestone from one side of the passage to the other. Seth dropped his bag and reached out for the statue with both hands. Hapu leaned closer to look at the beautiful patterns made with inlaid jewels.

“Don’t!” yelled Ramose.

Seth grasped the statue. There was a sudden rush of air from above. Seth and Hapu stood frozen.

Seth looked up. A huge slab of stone thundered from out of the slot above him. Ramose grabbed Hapu and pulled him aside. He closed his eyes as the slab crashed to the floor with a deafening thud. Seth didn’t even have time to scream.

Ramose opened his eyes. Hapu was sprawled on the floor. His foot was a finger-width from where the huge stone had fallen. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

Ramose gasped in horror.

A dismembered arm lay on the floor. Blood was trickling from it. That was all that was left of Seth.

“The fist of Osiris,” whispered Ramose.

Clutched in the dead hand was the crumpled papyrus. Ramose reached over, prised open the warm fingers and took the scroll. All three lamps were lying broken on the passage floor. One wick was still burning with a spluttering light in a pool of oil.

Ramose picked up one of the lamps, which still had some of the bowl intact. He reached for Seth’s bag and took out the flask of oil and filled the lamp as far as he could. He then carefully lifted the burning wick from the floor and put it in the broken lamp. Hapu was shaking uncontrollably. Ramose helped his friend up and together they made their way back to the bottom of the shaft.

“What’s taking you so long down there?” said Hori as soon as he could see them.

“There’s been an accident,” said Ramose.

“Where’s Seth?”

“He…he’s dead.”

The boys looked up. It was still dark outside. All they could see were two specks of light coming from Hori and Intef’s lamps.

“What did you do to him?”

“We didn’t do anything,” said Hapu, close to tears.

“Where’s the papyrus?”

“Seth had it. It’s under the stone with him.” Ramose folded the papyrus and stuffed it into his kilt.

“What stone?”

“It was the fist of Osiris. It crushed him.”

“More like you’ve killed him and hidden the papyrus so you can come back later.”

“We didn’t! Come down and see for yourself. Seth has been crushed by a stone slab. It was a trap.”

“Put the papyrus in the bucket.”

“I can’t, I haven’t got it any more.”

“Pull up the rope, Intef.”

“Don’t leave us down here,” Hapu cried out.

“You were only useful while we had the papyrus. We would have had to get rid of you eventually anyway.”

The rope was hauled up.

“No!” yelled Hapu. “Don’t leave us here.”

Ramose grabbed at the rope but he was too late. It disappeared up the shaft. There was a dull thud as the slab above was lowered into place.

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.