‘You mean Tallus, the renegade priest?’

  ‘You might call him a renegade. I would say that the high priest and his followers were envious of Tallus. His spells and potions brought him closer to Seth than Mut-Bisir had ever managed to come. But I paid Tallus little attention. To be honest with you, Egyptian, he made my skin crawl. He stared too long, too hard. There is a reason people called him “the Cobra”. He was poisonous.’

  ‘Do you think Tallus and Akkan are still allies? If the Cobra is as much of a sorcerer as people say, a man who was searching for the answer to a magical riddle might consider him a useful ally.’

  ‘He might, yes, that is true.’

  ‘And where do you think this sorcerer might tell Akkan to go to find the answer?’

  ‘How would I know?’

  ‘Stop playing games,’ said Hannu, his hand hovering over the hilt of his sword.

  Shamshi looked back at him without fear, and once again Piay was struck by the thought that the priest was tougher and sharper than he liked to let on.

  ‘In every marketplace there is always a man with a monkey,’ Shamshi said. ‘The monkey does tricks, the people laugh, and then, if the man is lucky, they throw him a few coins. And here, too, we have a man with a monkey. But the monkey has to hop because he only has one leg. His tricks are feeble and when people laugh, it is with pity and contempt.’

  Hannu sprang to his feet, his sword now drawn. Piay had to put himself between the furious soldier and Shamshi, who had not moved a muscle, nor shown any sign of alarm.

  ‘Sit down,’ Piay ordered Hannu, who did as he was told, still muttering.

  Piay turned his attention to the priest. ‘Now, you do what he said. Stop playing games. Tell us what you honestly know about the riddle and the men who are chasing it.’

  ‘I know that everyone is playing games, you included,’ Shamshi said. ‘The game we are playing, you and I, is to try and discover what the other one knows, without revealing our own secrets. But I am bored of the game, so I will be straight with you.

  ‘Everyone involved in this quest, this contest – whatever you wish to call it – knows that the riddle we seek to answer was devised by Imhotep, the Great Architect. We all know that he lived and worked in Memphis. We know he built his first pyramid for the Pharaoh Djoser. And we surely all suspect that he was buried there, though we do not know exactly where. What do we conclude from this? Simple . . . Imhotep is likely to have left his clues in the places that mattered most to him – his tomb and his pyramid. You know this, Egyptian, with your pet monkey and your ebony concubine.’

  Now it was Piay who wanted to leap up, brandishing his sword, and Hannu who had to lay a hand on his arm to restrain him.

  ‘He’s just playing with us,’ Hannu said. ‘Don’t give him the satisfaction.’

  ‘Oh, I am not playing,’ Shamshi said. ‘I am simply observing the group of people who have in their possession the one thing that might help solve the riddle – the Eye of Horus. And I am comparing them with Khin and Akkan, and thinking that they are just children beside those two brothers. And so I pity them, knowing the lengths to which my countrymen will go to take back the Eye.

  ‘And there is one other thing that I consider as I watch you blundering towards Memphis. The riddle was set by a dead man. So, if you wish to discover Imhotep’s secret, surely you must travel to the kingdom of the dead.’

  T

  he searing sun spun the river into a shimmering cascade of reflected light. The wind dropped in the verdant valley and the date palms stilled their rustling until the only sound was the gentle lap of the oars as the ship cruised on.

  In the prow, they caught their breath and stared in awe.

  Out of the wavering heat haze, the Great Pyramid of Giza rose up in the distance, a dazzling white beacon, topped in gold, its presence as mighty as the gods themselves and a testament to the glory that was Egypt.

  Piay breathed in the dank river scents and the sweet aroma of the ship’s cedarwood heated by the midday sun. He felt the sweat trickle down his brow, but he did not move – he was as bewitched as all those who travelled with him. This was a moment he had never dared to imagine – the Great Pyramid was once again in the hands of Egyptians.

  In that moment Piay felt like a child again, caught in stories of the grandeur of days long gone, of mysteries and whispered secrets. Ahead of him, Harrar was silhouetted against the silver sky. He was rigid, his weak shoulders pulled back, his chin slightly raised as even he greeted this marvel with respect.

  Piay stepped up to join Harrar as two more pyramids emerged from the haze.

  ‘For all the tales that were told, all the elaborate descriptions of their majesty, no words did them justice,’ Piay breathed.

  ‘Here is the beating heart of Egypt.’ Harrar’s voice cracked with emotion, something Piay had never expected to hear. ‘Once our work is done, the lifeblood will again course through this land of ours. Egypt will rise up once more, reborn in shining glory as Osiris himself was resurrected after Set, his brother, had murdered him.’

  Piay glanced back and saw the seasoned soldiers of the Blue Crocodile Guards massed on deck, standing in silence, all gripped by the same sense of wonder. They, like him, were seeing this land and these monuments for the first time, and they all knew what this moment of reunification between Upper and Lower Egypt meant.

  ‘We have much work to do if we are to meet Pharaoh’s expectations,’ Harrar said, still gripped by the pyramids.

  ‘The people here will welcome their liberators,’ Piay replied. ‘They’ll want to do all they can to help. Now that the siege is over and the Hyksos have fled, they must long to see some order brought to their lives.’

  ‘Perhaps.’ Harrar turned to look at him and behind those cold eyes, Piay sensed something squirming.

  ‘You see problems ahead?’

  ‘There are always problems ahead,’ Harrar replied with a waft of his hand. ‘They wait like jackals hiding behind the next dune. I received a messenger, sent upriver by Lord Taita, while you were busy trying to defeat a gang of criminals single-handed.’

  ‘Did he have any word for me?’ Piay asked, feeling annoyed but hardly surprised by the fact that Harrar had chosen not to inform him of the messenger’s appearance.

  ‘I have no idea,’ Harrar replied. ‘Why would he?’

  ‘Because I—’ Piay stopped himself. Harrar knew perfectly well that Taita was his master. This was just his way of letting Piay know that he did not care who he worked for, or how important his job might be.

  ‘What news did the messenger bring?’ Piay asked, wondering why Myssa, Hannu or Gatas hadn’t mentioned anything, and then, in his mind, answering his own question: Because Harrar regards them as even more lowly than me.

  Harrar looked at him. ‘His information was confidential. Taita would surely not have wished anyone but me to hear it.’ Harrar looked at Piay, letting his contempt sink in, but then shrugged and said, ‘Still, I suppose I can give you a rough idea of the situation. When Memphis fell, our forces behaved in the manner appropriate to a victorious army. They sacked the city. Apparently the looting and pillaging went on for days.’

  ‘But how could they do that to fellow Egyptians?’

  ‘Because many of the looters were not Egyptians, but Spartans – I believe you had some hand in bringing them here. Evidently, neither you nor your master had the foresight to see what they might do.’

  ‘Was King Khamudi in the city?’

  ‘Yes, the king of the Hyksos, his wives and his children were found hiding in the dungeons beneath the former palace of the pharaohs. His children and wives were drowned in the river, then Khamudi was skinned alive in front of the city walls. Lord Taita is now heading back to Thebes to receive his orders from our new Pharaoh, and, no doubt, to make preparation for the reunification of the Upper and Lower Kingdoms.’

  Piay felt a pang of sadness that he had not had the opportunity to see his master before Taita left Memphis, but his greater concern was the effect that the death of Khamudi would have on the quest for the Riddle of the Stars. Whatever oaths Khin and Akkan had sworn to their king, they would now be acting for no one but themselves – any constraints upon their behaviour had been ripped away.

  Piay was jolted from his thoughts by Harrar sighing. His immediate assumption was that Harrar was reacting to the sight of the pyramids, which were even closer now, but when Piay followed Harrar’s eyes, he saw that the nobleman was looking at a much more humble sight, right in front of them on the riverbank: a shattered shadoof; crops dried to a sea of brown by the sun; ragged bands of men and women in filthy tunics, who called out to the passing river vessels for aid, food, passage to Memphis.

  ‘They look so poor,’ Piay said.

  ‘Mm . . .’ Harrar agreed, his noise wrinkling in distaste. ‘When the Hyksos invaded, they let the Egyptians rule themselves while they stood in the shadows and guided the hands of those who showed their faces to the people.’

  Piay’s nostrils flared. Now he could smell more burning and the odour of human waste on the breeze.

  ‘I had hoped that the governors the Hyksos appointed would keep Lower Egypt functioning once their masters had departed, at least until we could tie the two parts of our land together. I now see that I was mistaken. Plainly there is no rule of law here. Bandits are attacking with impunity. Crops are failing and people starving. If the trade along the river is in a parlous state, too, then the entire Lower Kingdom may be close to collapse.’

  Piay had thought for a moment that Harrar’s concern might at last be that of a great nobleman for his people, but he was soon reminded that this particular nobleman only ever had one priority.

  ‘In a place like this, where enemies lie around every corner, I will require protection,’ Harrar said. ‘The Blue Crocodile Guards will therefore accompany me at all times. Egypt cannot afford to lose a man of my value, not at this time of great potential.’

  And what about us? Piay wondered. Can our lives be thrown away without a second thought?

  His fears were proving well founded. Lord Azref would have protected them, as Taita intended. Now they were on their own.

  ‘Then we have work to do,’ Piay said, adopting a light tone. ‘More than we thought, perhaps. But if anyone can bring the Lower Kingdom back to full health, it is you, my lord.’ He hoped his sardonic tone did not ring clearly in Harrar’s ears.

  Harrar did not reply. His gaze skittered across the landscape, the great monuments in front of him forgotten in the face of his fear. And Piay knew full well that frightened men could not be trusted, particularly when they were as powerful as Harrar.

  P

  iay stood on the deck of the ship, looking towards Memphis, the ancient capital of all Egypt, which sprawled across the landscape on the west bank of the Nile.

  ‘It’s even larger than Thebes,’ he marvelled.

  He could just make out the rooflines of the city’s great buildings, including Hout-ka-Ptah, which was the greatest of all Egypt’s temples to Ptah, the Master of Truth – and the father of Imhotep.

  Myssa walked along the deck to join him, but stopped a few feet away and looked him up and down appraisingly.

  ‘I like your new kilt,’ she said.

  ‘Taita gave it to me. He said I should wear it when I get to Memphis.’

  ‘Well, it’s very smart, and it makes you look more important. People will take you more seriously.’

  ‘I think that was Taita’s intention. And there’s something else.’ He gave her a cheeky, flirtatious grin, held out his arms and said, ‘Come here.’

  Myssa went to him. She let him wrap his arms around her and pull her close. Then her eyes widened, she giggled and exclaimed, ‘Oh my!’

  ‘It’s not what you think,’ Piay said, laughing.

  ‘Oh . . . that’s a disappointment.’ Myssa sighed. ‘So what is it?’

  ‘I’ll show you later.’ Then something caught Piay’s eyes. He turned his head back towards the city and said, ‘By all the gods . . . Look at that!’

  Up ahead, they could see where the eastern ramparts of the great walls that encircled Memphis had collapsed during the siege, and the breaches through which Taita’s army had poured. Black sooty stains scarred the creamy stone. For the first time, Piay fully understood the scale and savagery of the final blow that had sent the Hyksos reeling from the city.

  The twin dominions of Upper and Lower Egypt had been reunited. But at what cost?

  The captain bellowed the order to bring the ship in to the wharf. The crew furled the great sail to cut their speed as the steersman guided them out of the deeper water.

  As their destination loomed ever closer, the air was sour with the oppressive reek of charred wood. Beyond the prow, Piay could see the blackened bones of the ships that Khamudi had ordered put to the torch while they had been moored along the stone jetties.

  But this was the great port of Peru-nefer, and the siege was over. There should have been trading vessels crowding the river as far as the eye could see. Instead, only a few small boats bobbed up and down on the swell of the water.

  Piay jolted as the hull thudded against the stone wall of the wharf. Four sailors jumped over the side to tie the galley up.

  There was absolutely no one to greet Harrar and the ship’s other passengers and crew as they stepped ashore.

  ‘They knew we were coming.’ Harrar sniffed, trying to hide his irritation. ‘Messengers were sent ahead. The governor was pleased to hear of the Pharaoh’s plans to bring the Upper and Lower Kingdoms together, or so he said. Since I am the Pharaoh’s representative, he should have been here to welcome me.’

  ‘Where is everyone?’ Myssa asked as she and Piay followed Harrar down the gangplank. For it was not just that there was no welcome for their party: there was barely anyone at all.

  The workshops and factories beyond the harbourside, that should have been thundering with the sounds of labour, stood idle and deserted. There were no dockers loading und unloading vessels. No crews, each from a different corner of the earth, speaking countless different tongues, coming ashore or setting off again on their travels. No merchants strolling the quay, enjoying their new-found freedom now that the Hyksos had been driven out.

  There was just an eerie silence that set Piay on edge.

  Hannu limped up. ‘Can you feel it – the hostility?’ he growled. Sweat matted the black hair across his chest and pooled in his navel. ‘I don’t care if this used to be our capital city. It’s enemy territory now.’

  Myssa allowed herself a sly smile. ‘Who’d have thought these people wouldn’t take kindly to their city being looted?’

  ‘But at least they are free from Hyksos rule,’ Piay said. ‘That has to count for something, surely.’

  ‘Yes, but now they have the rule of the new Pharaoh of the Upper Kingdom,’ Myssa noted, ‘and they don’t yet know if that will be any better.’

  Hannu grunted. ‘Better sharpen my sword tonight, then. No doubt it’ll soon be needed.’

  Harrar plainly felt the same sense of danger as Hannu. His response, however, was not to reach for a sword of his own – Piay would have bet all his worldly possessions that Harrar had never in his life used one in combat – but to order the Blue Crocodile Guards to surround him on all sides as he walked towards the city.

  Soon they were marching out of the sprawl of the port and into a cool open space of verdant grassland dotted with date palms that stretched all the way to the city walls. The fabled Gate of a Thousand Stars loomed in front of them. In days gone by, all who found their way to Memphis were expected to fall to their knees and kiss the ground in front of it. Piay wondered if Harrar would revive this ritual, but the nobleman strode on, his expression sour.

  Piay craned his neck up as he passed through the towering gate, which was surely the height of at least six men. Two sullen guards stood there, leaning on their spears as they eyed the new arrivals. They looked thin, their cheeks gaunt, compared to the strong, well-fed soldiers of the Blue Crocodile Guards, and they made no move to stop or question the column.

  Once the shadow of the gate fell behind them, Piay breathed in the scents of the city: the aroma of baking flatbread, the tang of fish oil and the reek of human waste. There was more life here, too. Children chased each other, laughing and rolling in the dust just as they did in Thebes. Groups of women chattered as they collected the provisions for the day’s meal. Builders boomed at their apprentices and travelling merchants called to passers-by to stop and buy their wares.

  Piay felt relief creep over him at the familiar sights and sounds. The tension in Harrar’s face eased, too. Yet even now, wherever he looked Piay could see the scars of the Hyksos occupation. Monuments had been dismantled, the bones of their foundations still poking up from the earth, their stones perhaps transported north to add grandeur to Avaris. Statues had been damaged, struck with axes and defaced with paint, or simply removed, leaving empty plinths littering courtyards and thoroughfares.

  Much of the city had fallen into disrepair, but the palace was resplendent. It was painted white so that it glowed like the sun itself in the afternoon light. And it was huge, with annexes stretching out on all sides, larger even than the pharaoh’s residence in Thebes.

  The perimeter wall was high, and both the appearance and alertness of the guards at the gate showed that they, at least, were not going hungry.

  Behind the wall lay a parkland of lush gardens and still pools. The air was filled with the scent of jasmine. Pink flowers bloomed on the tamarisk and shade fell beneath gnarled grapevines strung between stone columns.

  ‘This used to be the home of the pharaoh,’ Myssa whispered as they were ushered along an avenue of sycamore that led to the palace. ‘It looks like the governor has now claimed it for himself.’

  The entrance hall was cool after the heat of the day and perfumed from the bowls of rose water set around the walls. Here and there stood pieces of fine wooden furniture, imported from the East. The whole place looked entirely untouched by the looting and destruction that had scarred the rest of the city.