The Horned Viper (11 page)

Hopi breathed a sigh of relief. So Isis was safe – from Kerem at least.

But Kerem’s next words were not so reassuring.

‘We will find a way to kill him,’ said the captain. ‘This man and his guard. You see. We will find a way. Before the morning they both dead.’ He made a gesture with his finger across his throat.

‘No. No. You can’t.’ Hopi shook his head. He felt desperate. ‘That’s the whole point. They will kill Isis before you kill them. And they will kill many of you, too. Please, please . . .’

Kerem’s eyes glittered. He laid a hand on Hopi’s shoulder. ‘There is always a way.’

‘But not
this
way!’ Hopi was dismayed.

The captain gave a cynical smile.

Hopi was silent, but he was thinking furiously. There had to be a way out of this . . . He got up slowly, and wandered out along the deck, into the darkness. He gazed up at the stars, thinking over everything he knew. Time was running out. Even now, Kerem had called his crew to start plotting . . . plotting to take Nebo by surprise. But the Nubian was so strong and vigilant; Isis was surely doomed.

A shooting star blazed across the sky, falling to nothingness near the horizon. And suddenly, Hopi saw a chink of light. Of course: the pouch of potions . . . He hurried back to the prow, where Kerem sat crouched with his men.

‘What did Hat-Neb say he would pay you?’

Kerem looked up. ‘What?’

‘He promised you a big payment,’ said Hopi, ‘didn’t he?’

The captain frowned. ‘He promised each of us gold, to the value of twenty
debens
of copper,’ he said eventually.

It was a huge sum for a few days’ work. Hopi almost gasped. ‘I see,’ he managed to say.

‘Why do you ask?’ Kerem looked curious.

Hopi controlled himself. He took a deep breath. ‘I can get you this gold,’ he said calmly.

Kerem laughed. ‘
You!
’

‘You think that you want revenge,’ said Hopi. He crouched down with the men, and looked around at their rugged faces. ‘But gold is much more useful.’

The captain shrugged. ‘Yes, but you think we get the gold now?’ Kerem shook his head. ‘Hat-Neb would kill a little girl. Whatever you think you can say to him, we will never see this gold.’

Hopi leaned closer. ‘There is something you do not know.’

‘And what is that?’

‘I can’t tell you yet.’ Hopi’s heart was beating fast. ‘It is knowledge that only I can use. It has been given to me by the gods. But I promise you, on my own life, that if you deliver us all to Djeba safely, you will receive your gold.’

The captain clearly thought Hopi was mad. ‘You are trying to protect your sister.’

‘Of course.’ Hopi couldn’t deny it. ‘But think. If you try to kill Hat-Neb, you will lose many things. You will lose your gold. If Isis is killed, you will lose the goodwill of the gods. You may also lose your freedom – and even your life.’

‘True,’ said Kerem. ‘But if we do as you say, we shall lose both the gold and our honour.’

‘No,’ said Hopi. ‘I have already told you. I promise this gold with my life. And your honour . . .’ He paused, searching for the right words. ‘If it depends upon a man like Hat-Neb, then honour does not count for very much.’

‘Brave words!’ exclaimed Kerem.

‘Trust me,’ said Hopi fervently. ‘You will see.’

.

Isis couldn’t sleep. Hat-Neb’s snores filled the cabin, while Nebo sat still and silent beside her. She heard drifting murmurs from the crew, talking in low voices to each other on the deck. The darkness was fearful, but Isis dreaded the dawn. What would happen then? Would there be a battle? Would she survive if there was?

Halfway through the night, Hat-Neb’s snores suddenly stopped. Isis listened. He seemed to have stopped breathing altogether. Then, with a choking sound, he woke and jerked himself upright. Isis watched in the gloom. Hat-Neb coughed and retched. Everyone was sitting up now. Tutmose lit an oil lamp, and crept to the overseer’s side.

‘Drink this,’ he said, handing Hat-Neb a beaker.

Hat-Neb took it, and glugged the liquid noisily. ‘Urgh,’ he moaned when it was finished, clutching his stomach.

‘You will sleep again now,’ said the doctor.

Isis thought of their trip to the marshes that morning, and the way Hat-Neb had collapsed. How differently she felt now. After all that had happened, she almost wished Hat-Neb were dead. She looked over at Sheri and Kia. Mut was tucked securely between them and Isis envied her.

‘Are you all right?’ Sheri mouthed at her.

Isis nodded dumbly. She lay back down again, staring at the roof of the cabin.

Tutmose put out the lamp, but the atmosphere in the cabin remained thick and heavy. Isis was sure that no one else was asleep, or even sleepy. There were just six tense people, and one sick one. Killer padded through the cabin with a soft yowl, but everyone ignored him.

.

Dawn broke at last. The crew were huddled, dozing, on the deck. There had been no more plotting, and no attack. Now they woke and stretched. Kerem placed two guards by the cabin door, and ordered the others to set sail. Hopi breathed a sigh of relief. It looked as though they would carry on to Djeba after all.

The first person to appear from the cabin was Tutmose. He looked haggard, his thin face even more drawn than usual.

‘I need to go down to the hold,’ he said, pointing to the hatch.

Kerem wasn’t taking any chances. He called another crew member to accompany the doctor. Hopi watched them disappear, and felt his heart beat a little faster. He could guess exactly what the doctor was after.

Tutmose re-emerged a few minutes later, his eyes wild. He looked around the members of the crew, then fixed his gaze on Hopi. Hopi leaned on the rail of the boat, determined to look casual.

‘Hopi!’ The doctor’s voice was desperate. ‘I’ve lost something. Something important. You haven’t . . . ?’ He trailed off.

‘What sort of thing?’ Hopi kept his voice very innocent.

The doctor stamped his foot in frustration. ‘You were down there! You –’ Again he broke off. ‘You must help me,’ he finished, lowering his voice.

Hopi stared at him coldly, remembering how the doctor had betrayed him. ‘I don’t even know what you’re talking about.’

Tutmose stared hard at Hopi’s bag. ‘The thing I’m looking for . . . it could help you. It could help all of us. Even the crew. Tell the crew. Let them know that I can solve everything.’

‘I’ve told you,’ said Hopi. ‘If you’ve lost something, it has nothing to do with me.’

.

CHAPTER NINE

‘We approach Djeba,’ announced Nebo, standing at the entrance to the cabin.

Hat-Neb sat up. He looked tired and ill, with big circles under his eyes. He looked blearily around the cabin. ‘We are all alive, I see,’ he commented.

‘The danger has passed. The crew can do nothing. Too many people here.’

Isis could hear them – children’s voices calling from the riverbank, men shouting, someone’s donkey braying. She realised she had survived, and felt weak with relief.

Hat-Neb staggered to his feet, donned a clean linen kilt and went out on to the deck.

Nebo nodded to Isis, Mut and the women. ‘You may come,’ he said.

The riverbank swarmed with people. Children pointed at the beautiful vessel, shouting, and a flotilla of little fishing boats bobbed on the water around them. Hat-Neb went to the rail of the boat to let himself be seen, and waved to the crowd that had gathered to watch.

‘It is Hat-Neb! The overseer of works has returned!’

‘Behold his fine new boat!’

Willing hands reached out for ropes as the boat was manoeuvred into position, and a wide plank ladder was winched up to the deck. Hat-Neb called to Killer, and picked up the hunting cat. Then, with great dignity, he began to disembark. But halfway down, he stopped and swayed. Isis heard a murmur ripple through the crowd. He righted himself, and clutched the cat to his chest. One slow step at a time, he reached the docks.

The sound of a whip cracked through the air, and horses’ hooves thudded on the hard earth of the riverside. A gilded chariot came into view, pulled by two cantering horses, each with an ostrich plume attached to its head. The crowd parted, and the chariot came to a halt by Hat-Neb’s side. He looked back up at the boat.

‘Come, Tutmose!’ he called.

The doctor descended to join the overseer, raising a hand to the crowd as he made his way to the chariot. The two men climbed on board behind the driver, and Isis stared down at them. Was Hat-Neb going to leave them, just like that? It seemed that he was. The overseer waved up to Nebo.

‘Stand guard!’ he called. ‘I will send men to help you unload!’

The chariot driver cracked his whip, and the horses set off through the crowd in a cloud of dust. There were just the crew, the dance troupe and Nebo left on board.

Nebo turned to Kerem. ‘You take the sick men off,’ he said, jerking his head in the direction of the injured crew. ‘And then you follow.’

Kerem did not protest. The crowd ogled eagerly as the injured men were helped down the plank, their bandages still bloody and one man’s arm dangling uselessly. Kerem was the last to go.

Sheri and Kia looked at Nebo, clearly confused.

‘Now what?’ exclaimed Kia. ‘Who is going to carry our belongings off the boat? And what about our payment?’

‘You go free when the boat unloaded. Your pay-ment . . .’ Nebo shrugged. ‘This nothing to do with me.’

Kia’s mouth dropped open. ‘What do you mean, nothing?’ She folded her arms. ‘You’ve no authority to pay us what we’re owed?’

‘No.’ The Nubian’s voice was remote.

‘And that’s it? You are not going to help us?’

Another shrug. Sheri and Kia exchanged furious glances. Then a shout came from below, and six strong servants appeared up the ladder. They set to work diligently, running up and down the plank to unload Hat-Neb’s sacks of grain, his caskets and his statues. In no time at all, the hold was empty. The men moved on to the cabin.

‘What do we do with these?’ asked one of them, pointing to the troupe’s belongings.

Nebo nodded his head towards the shore. ‘Take them down and leave them on the harbour.’

‘Be careful with them!’ cried Sheri, as the men grabbed their fragile lyres and lutes. The men grinned at each other, and carried on as before.

It was then that Isis realised the truth. They had survived this dreadful journey, but now they were stuck. They would be left at the riverside, with no payment, and no means of returning to Waset.

.

Hopi watched as the last of Hat-Neb’s pack donkeys disappeared up the road. Sheri and Kia were enraged. Hopi had never seen them so angry. The five of them stood on the harbour with their little pile of belongings. Locals stared at them curiously – a dance and music troupe with nowhere to go.

‘I can’t believe it. I simply can’t believe it. In all my years of performing I have never, ever been treated like this.’ Kia began striding up and down, her arms folded. ‘There must be something we can do.
Something
–’

‘Such men are above the law,’ said Sheri bitterly.

‘This is not the way of Egypt. This is not the way of
ma’at
,’ fumed Kia.

But Hopi had one eye on the crew. ‘There
is
something we can do,’ he announced. ‘And I must do it, for I have given my word, and there will be big trouble if I do not.’

The two musicians swung around to stare at him. ‘Hopi! You have caused enough trouble on this trip,’ began Kia. ‘I suppose you will produce some kind of –’

‘Wait, sister. Calm yourself,’ said Sheri. ‘Let us hear what he has to say.’

The crew were watching them. What Hopi knew, and the women did not, was that their danger was far from over. They might have escaped Hat-Neb and Nebo, but now Kerem and his men wanted results. It was noon, and the sun was beating down harshly. Hopi pointed towards a large, shady fig tree close by.