The Amulet of Amon-Ra (9 page)

“Get whatever you need,” said Ramose.

Meryt-Re sighed. “I don't suppose the great Ka-Aper gave you a temple papyrus,” she said.

“Well, no,” said Ramose. “But I could hardly ask.”

“I guess not. I wish…”

“Mother! This is a wonderful opportunity,” said Mentmose. “The palace! If the Pharaoh takes note of father and his artistry…”

“I could possibly get a royal commission,” said Ramose. “The temple is good to me, but if I had royal attention? Think of it.”

“If you had royal favor,” said Meryt-Re, putting a hand to her lips, “we might be able to afford a villa in the country.”

“Yes! We could move. Have servants! A chariot and horses. Indoor plumbing. All manner of lovely things for you to enjoy,” said Ramose.

“Oh, Ramose,” said Meryt-Re. “What a wonderful thought. So. We will need two full outfits…”

“Four.”

“Four?”

“Yes, the children are invited, too,” said Ramose.

Mentmose whooped. “The palace! I get to go to the palace!”

“But Ramose…I don't know how we can possibly afford that,” said Meryt-Re. “I think the children will have to stay home.”

“Oh, mother, please!” said Mentmose. “I'll do anything. Only let me come.”

Meryt-Re pursed her lips.

“I'm afraid we have no choice,” said Ramose. “Ka-Aper specifically told me to bring them just before he left.”

“What? But why?” asked Meryt-Re.

Jennifer wondered that, too.

“I don't know,” said Ramose. “He didn't say.”

“Oh, very well,” said Meryt-Re. Mentmose whooped again. “But Ramose, you will have to be satisfied with what I can find. I will need your best work.”

“You shall have it,” he promised. He left the kitchen, returning only a few moments later with a handful of carvings. “I've been saving these.”

“Careful,” said Meryt-Re, taking them from him, one by one. “Oh, my. Ptah does guide your hand, Ramose. These are beautiful.”

She held a small blue hippopotamus up to the light. To Jennifer's eyes, the little animal seemed almost alive.

“That is one of my favorites,” said Ramose, smiling at the hippo.

“Sacred to Tawaret,” said Meryt-Re, narrowing her eyes. “I'll see if I can trade this to someone who is expecting a child.”

“That's a good idea,” said Ramose. “Mentmose, we have more work to do.”

“Come, Dje-Nefer,” said Meryt-Re. “We should start now.”

“I leave it in your capable hands,” said Ramose.

Meryt-Re rolled her eyes as he and Mentmose left. “Men,” she murmured. “They think things just happen.”

Jennifer couldn't help giggling. Meryt-Re sounded just like her own mother.

“Let us be off, then,” said Meryt-Re. “If it does further your father's career, it will have been worth it.”

Jennifer nodded. They were going to the palace!

Maybe she could figure out a way to get to the Pharaoh before Ka-Aper did.

The market was just as noisy and crowded as it had been the day before. Meryt-Re had set out from the house at a brisk pace, Jennifer trotting along behind her. As soon as they reached the rabbit warren of stalls and booths, Meryt-Re slowed to a saunter. Unlike yesterday's efficient trip, today she acted like she had all the time in the world.

First, she traded a few of her good barley cakes for some pieces of dried fruit. Jennifer frowned as they stopped at yet another food-seller's stall. Meryt-Re didn't seem in the least bit interested in the booths that displayed outfits or jewelry.

“Aren't we…?” she started to ask.

“Hush,” said Meryt-Re, with a little smile. “Patience.”

More fruit, some vegetables and a small chunk of that delicious white cheese steadily replaced the cakes in Meryt-Re's basket. While Jennifer waited outside, Meryt-Re slipped into a covered stall that smelled of pungent herbs and perfumes.

Right next to a vegetable vendor was a man selling musical instruments. He handed something that looked like an oversized metal wishbone to a white-clad woman. She shook it, jingling several bells that were strung across thin wires between its two metal arms.

Meryt-Re returned from the perfumery with a small, tightly-stoppered bottle which she carefully positioned in the bottom of the basket.

“I had to trade two of your father's amulets for that,” she confided to Jennifer. “The perfume merchant said he would present them to his mother, since she is preparing her tomb for her burial. But I think he might keep them.”

A little more wandering took them deeper into the market. But before they could get very far, a crowd formed, standing to watch something that was accompanied by the sounds of harps and bells and brass trumpeting.

“Oh!” said Meryt-Re. “A funeral procession. It sounds like an expensive one. Let's watch.”

She pulled Jennifer through the crowd, easing them closer to the front of the hundreds of people, where they could see better.

It was a glittering sight. First came an old woman and a younger one, both of them weeping loudly and throwing ash in their hair. They were followed by a sarcophagus on a wooden sledge, pulled by four huge horned oxen, straining at their harness. The sarcophagus wasn't solid gold, like Tutankhamen's coffin, but it had gold inlay, and the rest of it was painted with vivid reds, blues and oranges. Several people lent a hand to the ropes, keeping the oxen in line. Like the first two women, they were crying and waving their arms.

Behind them were eight women in long blue dresses, their hair wild and lines of black tears painted on their cheeks. They bawled and wailed, making more noise than all the others combined.

“My goodness!” said Meryt-Re. “Eight professional mourners! What an expense. I wanted to be a mourner when I was younger. Then I married your father, and I soon had other things on my mind.” She smiled down at Jennifer.

Following the mourners came other people, even children, all walking at a dignified pace; then several others, carrying clothing, food, racks of tiny statues, golden chests, and even pieces of furniture. Two of them pulled a sledge carrying four squat jars with stoppers shaped like heads of men and animals, which Jennifer realized must be the mummy's canopic jars. Last to come were the musicians, strumming hand-held harps, blowing horns, and shaking instruments like the one Jennifer had seen being sold earlier. Long-eared dogs yapped and ran after them. Finally, the procession was gone and all was quiet. The hum of the market started up again.

Meryt-Re bowed her head. “May Ma'at guard his ka,” she said.

“Did you know him?” asked Jennifer.

“No,” said Meryt-Re. “By the look of his procession, he was probably some noble from the court. I wonder if Ka-Aper will perform the Opening of the Mouth ceremony for him. I hope it goes well, or this fellow will not be able to partake of the food that gets buried with him.”

“I hope the tomb robbers don't get to him,” said Jennifer.

“Dje-Nefer, don't be so gloomy,” said someone from behind Jennifer.

She turned. Tetisheri beamed at her.

“What are you doing here?” Jennifer blurted.

“Same as you,” said Tetisheri. “Aren't funerals beautiful?”

“Beautiful? But he's dead,” said Jennifer.

Tetisheri looked puzzled. “Of course, but his mummy will soon be reborn to a new life and will be honored at the gods' side.”

“Hm,” said Jennifer. The mummy in the museum hadn't looked reborn at all. It was still pretty dead.

“Were you shopping?” asked Tetisheri.

“Yes, for clothing,” said Jennifer.

“Clothing? Why?” said Tetisheri. “Your mother usually makes your clothes, doesn't she? Are you going somewhere special? I know! You're having dinner with Ka-Aper again, aren't you?”

Meryt-Re put her hand on Jennifer's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. When she spoke, it was barely above a murmur. “Actually, we are going to the feast at the palace tonight.”

“Oh! So am I!” Tetisheri squealed.

“Your family has been invited as well?” asked Meryt-Re.

“Of course!” said Tetisheri. “My father is the second assistant official to the Curator of Monuments.”

“I had forgotten his new position. Of course he would be going.”

“This time, I get to go, too. Mother just told me. Do you think Mentmose would like to escort me?” Tetisheri asked, blushing slightly.

Jennifer stifled a snort.

“Perhaps we could all go together,” Meryt-Re suggested.

“What a good idea!” said Tetisheri, beaming. “I'll go tell my parents.” She dashed away, and melted into the crowd.

“What does a Curator of Monuments do?” asked Jennifer, hoping that Dje-Nefer wouldn't know that.

“I am not entirely sure,” said Meryt-Re, smiling, “but you can be certain that it is a very, very important job. At least, so Tetisheri's mother told me.” She sighed. “She also hinted that Tetisheri's betrothal to Mentmose may no longer be…appropriate.”

“That would make Mentmose happy,” said Jennifer.

Meryt-Re's smile tilted. “I know he is not pleased with our choice of a wife for him. Satyah and I were close friends when we were younger and pledged to match our children together. When you were all small and her husband not so exalted, it seemed no hardship for her. But now…well. Anyway, Mentmose should be grateful. Tetisheri is devoted to him, despite her mother's recent objections. He could do much worse.”

“She talks too much, but she's nice,” said Jennifer.

Meryt-Re laughed. “A fair assessment. Now let us be about our own business.”

“Will Tetisheri be shopping for new clothes, too?” asked Jennifer.

“Likely they already have outfits being custom-made for them. Satyah hired a seamstress as soon as Hekhanakhte was appointed to his new office.” Meryt-Re started walking again, steering Jennifer away from the market and down a narrow side street.

“I thought we were going to buy clothes,” said Jennifer.

“We are,” said Meryt-Re. “As you so aptly put it, Tetisheri talks too much. She has probably told several people by now that we are all going to the feast.”

“So?”

“So, clothing vendors in our market may hear it and would then know that we are in need of their wares. The price would go up because of that. It is always better to pretend that you are not interested in what they have to sell. We will go to a different market where they do not know us so well. And hope that no one there knows Tetisheri!”

“Will they have what we need?” asked Jennifer, trying to keep up with Meryt-Re's quickening pace.

“That is a chance we will have to take,” said Meryt-Re.

They emerged from the shaded, twisting road into a sunlit open area. Jennifer nearly bumped into Meryt-Re, as she slowed her rapid walk to a leisurely saunter. Jennifer strolled along beside her, trying to match her calm survey of the vendors.

Like the other market, this one was filled with a disordered jumble of booths, a path of beaten earth winding between them. They passed more sellers of pottery, brass items and vegetables, and even someone sitting under an umbrella, cross-legged on a mat. He was writing a letter that was being dictated to him by a well-dressed nobleman.

“A scribe,” murmured Meryt-Re. “This market must be frequented by some of the upper classes. We shall see what we can find.”

The scribe dipped his reed pen into an inkwell on a leather strap strapped across his bare chest, nodded to his customer, and continued writing. Jennifer tried to peek at the letter, but Meryt-Re wouldn't let her.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I just wanted to see the hieroglyphs,” said Jennifer.

Meryt-Re shook her head. “Why? Neither you nor I would be able to read them. That's a man's job. I don't know what's gotten into you. First asking about school, now this. Bad enough that your father lets you play at painting our walls.”

“Paint?” said Jennifer. Her mouth opened in surprise. So that's who the artist was. Dje-Nefer! “But they're good!”

“Don't go getting ideas above yourself, Dje-Nefer.” Meryt-Re frowned. “Your painting is just for fun. You'll have to give it up soon.”

“Why?”

“Because you'll be too busy with women's work. It is work, you know, no matter that you might not yet understand that.” Meryt-Re gave Jennifer a speculative look as they hurried on. “Perhaps we have already indulged your hobby for too long.”

Jennifer gulped. She hadn't meant to get Dje-Nefer in trouble.

“Here we are,” said Meryt-Re, with a swift glance at a nearby booth, where several men's kilts hung from poles. The seller also had piles of linen on his tables.

But instead of looking directly at the booth, Meryt-Re fingered a pile of dark woolen blankets stacked neatly under a nearby awning. The man selling them oozed up beside her and chattered away about how fine they were, and how useful they would be after the annual Nile flood, when it got so much colder. Jennifer could tell that Meryt-Re was only half-listening to him.

“Weren't we looking for…,” Jennifer began.

“Sh,” said Meryt-Re. Jennifer looked at her, confused. But Meryt-Re gave her a tiny nod, and the ghost of a wink. She left the blanket seller and sauntered past the one with the men's outfits. The man in the booth turned their way as they passed.

“Something for your husband, mistress?” he asked, showing a lot of teeth.

Meryt-Re pretended not to be interested, but eventually she let him talk her into looking at two. Bargaining for the kilts went slowly, with the man insisting that Meryt-Re was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen—barring the Pharaoh herself, of course—and that times were so hard, he needed her to be as generous as she was lovely. In the end, Meryt-Re reluctantly handed over an onyx sheep, a malachite horse, and two turquoise elephants for two fine linen shirts, two sheer linen tunics, and a pair of beaded pectorals.

Meryt-Re sighed when they left. “As I suspected, wares in this market are somewhat more expensive than where I usually shop. The quality is very good. Let us see if we can find some outfits for ourselves now. Or at least for me. We may not have enough for a new dress for you.”

“That's all right,” said Jennifer.

A little further away, they found a booth offering women's clothing, next to a cheese seller's booth. Stretched across the fabric of a large covered booth were several outfits, sparkling in the sun. Jennifer sucked in a breath at their opulence. The golden belt and collar on a long white dress shimmered in the sun as a breeze rippled the awning.

“Lovely, aren't they?” Meryt-Re murmured. “Shall we look at the cheese?” she said in a louder voice.

Jennifer obediently inspected cheeses with Meryt-Re, giving the clothing booth an occasional glance. In the shade of the canopy, a gray-haired woman was bargaining with a customer, who finally agreed to a price. With a handshake and a nod, the woman accepted something in exchange, passed across the table in front of her. A teenage boy stood close beside her. He wrapped the merchandise in a piece of fabric and handed it to the customer.

“Let's go,” said Meryt-Re. She shook her head at the man selling the cheeses. He was still trying to get her to buy one even as she walked away.

As they approached the clothing booth, the old woman came out of the shadow of her awning and smiled at them. Jennifer gasped.

“Grandma Jo?”