‘That was a good idea,’ Hannu said. He looked along the length of the camp, taking in the babble of voices rising from the large workforce. ‘Myssa and her men will have a hard time sneaking past this lot without being spotted. And there are too many here for the Hyksos to fight their way through.’

  ‘That won’t deter Myssa,’ Piay said. ‘She’ll find some other way to get what she wants, you know that. I’m counting on it.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Ankhu asked.

  ‘This Myssa – the new one – holds me in contempt. In fact, she feels that way about men in general. She’ll never believe that I can possibly set a trap for her—’

  ‘Not one that works,’ Hannu said.

  ‘Exactly. But that’s her weakness, because she’ll be just that little bit less careful than she would be if she did respect me. So now, we have to work out a way of taking advantage of that.’

  ‘I wish you luck, friend,’ Hannu said. ‘Because I’m damned if I can think of anything.’

  The three men edged into the camp, enjoying the warmth from the fires and the sounds of men whose spirits were good. Hannu paused by one fire and, after engaging the men around it in conversation, was offered three bowls of fish stew which the new arrivals placed to their lips and swilled down with joy.

  Once they had all slaked their thirst from a water hide, Ankhu strode off ahead. Puzzled by his determination, Piay and Hannu followed the old sage as he made his way through the camp, between the tents, until he reached the foot of the great monument itself.

  Piay watched, curious, as Ankhu rested one hand on the crumbling stones, bowing his head almost as if he were praying.

  When he was done, he turned back to the two men and said in a low voice filled with awe, ‘Here we stand on the brink of the afterlife. If you allow yourself, you can feel the presence of the gods themselves.’

  Piay shivered. He craned his neck, letting his eyes find their way up the soaring wall of stone to the summit. A shooting star flashed across the vault of the heavens.

  An omen, Piay thought, but for good or ill, he could not tell.

  Ankhu was right – Khonsu is here.

  The god’s gaze weighed upon Piay, and he felt a sense of apprehension rise inside him – they were approaching the most dangerous time.

  ‘The men told me you had arrived.’

  Piay and Hannu turned to see Adon, the taskmaster, standing behind them. His right hand rested against the coil of the whip at his side, the telltale sign of a master who was ready to use it at the slightest provocation.

  ‘Final arrangements had to be made,’ Piay replied. ‘The excavation will be long and arduous. It’s vital to make sure the work is carried out in the right place.’

  ‘I was not told what we were digging for, only that it was of the greatest importance.’

  It was not a question, but Piay knew the taskmaster was probing for information.

  ‘All will be revealed, in time, as the sand and the rocks give up their secrets,’ Piay said.

  Adon nodded. ‘We begin work at first light. Show me where the ground must be broken.’

  Piay, Hannu and Ankhu followed the taskmaster back through the camp, with Bast trotting at their side. On the edge of the tents, Piay looked out across the moonlit wasteland and searched for an area scattered with rocks where the digging would be hardest. The longer he could draw out this work, the longer these men and their families could benefit from the food released from Zahur’s stores.

  He made a great play of looking up at the stars and gauging the position of the Pyramid of Khufu and the two smaller monuments that stood nearby and then pointed.

  ‘There,’ Piay said, pointing towards a randomly selected patch of sand. ‘Though I warn you now that the knowledge we have is not precise. We will continue to study the heavens, and if there is need to extend the work, we will tell you.’

  Adon grunted. ‘I will make the arrangements.’

  ‘One more thing,’ Piay said. ‘Guards should be positioned around the camp every night.’

  ‘Guards? What is there here to be guarded?’

  ‘Shrikes roam the wastes. They will take anything they can find.’

  Adon twitched his nose, unconvinced, but he nodded in agreement. Piay watched a cunning expression creep across his face. He was no doubt calculating that what the work band had been sent to find was of great value.

  ‘But have your guards on the western approach pretend they are asleep,’ Piay said.

  Adon frowned. ‘They should challenge no one who approaches?’

  ‘No one.’

  ‘Why protect the camp, but leave a path in for those Shrikes?’

  ‘I have my reasons.’

  The taskmaster shook his head in incomprehension and stalked away.

  Ankhu pursed his lips. ‘You are setting your trap.’

  Piay looked back to the looming monument. ‘Now we wait to see if it works.’

  P

  iay and Hannu took it in turns to keep watch on the unguarded section for the rest of the night. Piay thought – hoped – he still knew a little about the way Myssa’s mind worked. He anticipated she would make no attempt to enter the monument for a night or two. She was cautious. She would be watching, weighing up her options before she made her decision.

  The next morning, the sun painted the dusty land crimson as it edged the horizon. The men crawled out of their shelters, stretching and hawking up phlegm. Adon moved among them, his voice like the crack of his whip as he barked orders.

  With Bast beside him, Piay perched on the stones of the great monument, as the wilderness glowed rose pink in the first light. Soon the furnace blast of the sun would roast these labourers. The work would be hard, relentless, but at least they would be rewarded with food by day’s end.

  Adon paced back and forth as the men lined up to collect their tools. Some received shovels to shift the sand, others wooden mallets and chisels to split the rocks that lay just beneath the surface. Axes and copper bow drills were available for the more difficult terrain.

  In no time the labourers were sweating as they broke the ground. Their tools thumped in a steady beat, and voices joined in song as they caught the rhythm of their labours.

  Piay thought that the men seemed happy after the privations of Memphis. The knowledge that they would not be starving that night, and nor would their loved ones, had sparked a fire in their spirit. Though their task was a futile one, he felt pleased that some good would come of it.

  Hannu limped up and waved a water hide at him to moisten his lips.

  ‘I bet Myssa sent her men in the night to scout the camp,’ he said. ‘The Hyksos have sharp eyes. They wouldn’t have needed to come close, not with the moon so bright.’

  Ankhu wandered along the edge of the monument, trailing the fingertips of his left hand across the aged stones. Halting in front of Piay and Hannu, he shielded his eyes to look up at them and said, ‘The Pyramid of Khufu calls to you. Can you hear it?’

  ‘I hear nothing but the whine of the wind across the wastes,’ Piay replied.

  ‘These old stones speak if only you have the ears to listen.’ He wagged the tip of his staff towards the top of the monument. ‘Wise men built this. Wisdom is set deep in all parts of it. Why stone? Why so large?’

  Piay shrugged. ‘A king would want his name to be remembered.’

  ‘The Pyramid of Khufu is different,’ Ankhu said. ‘In the age before this monument was raised, the pyramids of old sat above the burial chamber. They were the greatest of all tombstones, protecting the king and his possessions hidden beneath them. But not here. Khufu’s burial chamber and a smaller one for his queen are suspended in that stone high above the ground. Why is that?’

  Piay craned his neck around and looked up the soaring pyramid.

  ‘How would I know?’

  ‘You wouldn’t. No one alive today does. But if the Pyramid of Khufu was indeed the vision of Imhotep, then he chose to go against the old traditions for a reason.’

  Hannu shivered despite the heat. ‘I don’t like all this talk of tombs. Talk too much about death and you’re just asking it to pay you a visit.’

  Ankhu waved away his concerns. ‘There is more here that puzzles the mind. The monument is empty.’

  ‘Grave robbers,’ Hannu said.

  ‘That may well be. The royal treasures would certainly have been looted. But nothing remains. No canonic jars, No mummy. No shards of pot. The chambers within the monument were never completed. There are some who say that Khufu was never interred here.’

  Piay thought back to the Pyramid of Djoser and how much remained within it, even though the grave robbers had broken into the very heart of it.

  ‘Why go to all this trouble, then?’ he asked, taking in the vastness of the pyramid. ‘Why build all this and not even lay a pharaoh to rest here? That can’t be true.’

  ‘We are but ants before this magnificence and the men who made it,’ Ankhu said. ‘We can only wonder why.’

  ‘Have you been inside?’ Piay asked.

  ‘I told you, I would not venture inside, not for all the riches this world can offer. But others have been inside and their accounts have been recorded.’

  ‘So, how did they get in?’ Piay asked.

  ‘I have seen references to a hidden entrance, broken open by grave robbers, perhaps, or left there by the original builders. I do not know its exact location, but I’m hopeful that we could find it. But only when you are ready, and who knows now when that will be?’

  T

  wo more days passed. The labourers sweltered in the seething heat, their shovels biting into the sand, their chisels cracking stone. The music of the work filled the hot air from dawn to dusk.

  Gradually the trenches deepened. From time to time Adon strode up to Piay, asking his opinion on the progress of the expanding trenches.

  ‘You are certain this is the correct place?’ the taskmaster asked.

  ‘As much as I can be.’

  ‘There is no more information you can bring to me?’

  ‘None.’

  ‘And if nothing is discovered in this place?’

  ‘Then the work should be moved a step over, and so on. Something will arise out of the ground sooner or later.’

  Adon nodded at this, looking across the dusty plain in the lee of the monument.

  ‘Then your work here is done.’

  ‘I will stay until you have found what is buried.’

  Or at least until the secrets of the Pyramid of Khufu have been given up, Piay thought.

  Once he’d solved the Riddle of the Stars, no one would care that the search for Imhotep’s tomb had been in vain. And in the meantime, Piay hoped, men were being fed and the city was becoming calmer.

  When darkness fell, he and Hannu took it in turns to keep watch on the unguarded approach. The night was still, the only sound the faint strains of the wind singing across the wastes. No noise of interlopers reached their ears, nor did Hannu catch any scent on the breeze. Would Myssa even try to reach the Pyramid of Khufu while so many people were there? Had his calculations been wrong?

  T

  hat night Piay was jerked out of a deep sleep. Hannu had crawled under his shelter and was shaking him roughly.

  ‘Get up!’ Hannu said. ‘That attack has come!’

  ‘Attack?’ Piay slurred.

  ‘The Hyksos have struck from the east.’

  ‘Not the west?’

  ‘Hear me! They are attacking from the east – and there are more of them than Akkan had at his camp. A lot more. They’re trying to drive all the diggers away, to take the monument for themselves.’

  Piay levered himself up on his elbows and wiped the sleep from his eyes.

  ‘On my way.’

  ‘Bring your sword. We have too few fighting men.’

  Hannu scrambled out of the shelter on his hands and knees. Piay followed him just seconds later.

  A fire was raging on the eastern edge of the camp. Flames leaped up high from tents and painted the stones of the monument amber.

  As Piay stared in incredulity at the blazing encampment, more streaks of fire blazed across the sable sky – burning arrows loosed from powerful Hyksos bows that could reach three times the distance of any Egyptian bow.

  The shafts plunged down into the camp, setting fire to more tents. The terrified yells of the labourers rang out as they raced to stop the blaze spreading.

  Piay dashed towards the fire, cursing himself for even thinking he could lure Myssa into a trap, or believing that a crowd of unarmed labourers would be any kind of deterrent. She hadn’t bothered with trickery. She was making a direct assault.

  Once the flames had panicked the occupants of the camp, the Hyksos would ride in on their warhorses, cutting down everyone before them. These labourers had no swords, few weapons that could be used to defend themselves beyond the tools they worked with every day. They could not be expected to fight.

  Beyond the roar of the fire, Piay thought he could make out the thunder of approaching hooves to the east. He unsheathed his sword and was about to run towards the sound of the charge, when a thought struck him. What if Myssa’s trick was precisely that she seemed to be attacking without one?

  Skidding to a halt, Piay glanced back to the unguarded western approach. His sword and his ability to use it were essential for the defence of the camp. The Egyptian labourers had little hope under any circumstances, but without him and Hannu they would not stand a chance. He knew that.

  And Myssa did, too. She had never believed in brute force to solve a problem. She’d always been cleverer than that. Why would she not be still? Why not use the attack from the east as a distraction to allow her to get to the pyramid from the west?

  Unsure of what to do, Piay turned back and forth. There was no right answer here, just one that might cause less harm than the other. But which was it?

  Finally, Piay made his choice, knowing full well he could come to regret it. Turning away from where the fighting was about to break out, he raced back the way he had come, passing the men scrambling to safety. When he came to the edge of the camp, he ducked down behind a tent and peered into the night.

  The clamour at his back was as loud as thunder, and after a while he wondered if he had made the right decision.

  Just at the point when he had all but decided to abandon his post and race back to the fray, he glimpsed movement in the dark.

  Crouching lower, so he would not be seen, Piay watched a figure emerge from the gloom. It was a woman, slender, stooping to avoid drawing attention to herself, a cloak wrapped around her and a hood pulled low over her head so that her features were lost to shadow.

  As she crept towards the monument and into the brighter light, Piay nodded. The dress she was wearing, visible when the cloak flapped open, was yellow. It was Myssa.

  Piay slithered on his belly from his hiding place to a point where he could sprint to intercept her. Already he could feel his mind leaping ahead. She had separated herself from the Cobra and the Hyksos warriors. Alone. Undefended. That made it easier to capture her. And once she was in his grasp, he could begin the work of returning her to the woman he knew.

  As Myssa neared the great monument, Piay launched himself out of his hiding place and raced forward. Using all the stealth he had learned as a spy, he arced around the rear of her, so that he would not catch her eye until it was too late. Myssa always carried her short-bladed knife for protection. He would have to be wary of that. She’d made short work of the palace guards, after all.

  His feet barely whispered on the dust and the rocks. Yet as he closed on her, she jerked alert, sensing his presence. With barely a backward glance, she whirled away along the side of the pyramid into the gloom, her cloak billowing out behind her.

  Myssa was leaving the camp, leaving the warriors who would be able to protect her, but she was strong and fit, and her long muscular legs made her fast. Piay had seen her run through the forests, far to the south, and he had marvelled at her speed.

  But the fire in his chest gave him an advantage. He would not let her escape now that he was so close to bringing her back into his life. Piay hurled himself on, pushing himself to the limits of his strength, and the distance between them began to close.

  At the far corner of the great monument, her steps slowed as her strength drained and she seemed to sense that she would not be able to outrun him. Piay braced himself for a struggle and that flashing knife.

  ‘Run no more,’ Piay called. ‘Do not fight me. I am here to help.’

  Myssa spun around in a swirl of her cloak.

  Piay choked on his words.

  The face that peered back at him out of the hood was that of a young man with round cheeks and sparkling eyes. He was chuckling with glee. Piay recognised him – one of Akkan’s acolytes.

  Before Piay could move, the acolyte whipped out his hand, unfurling his fingers as he did. A cloud of white dust swept out. Piay felt it fill his nose and his mouth as he drew breath, prickling his throat as if he was being stabbed by copper needles.

  An instant later, he felt the world around him twist and he realised he was falling back. The stars and that orb of Khonsu filled his entire vision.

  M

  yssa dug her toes into the shifting sand. She shivered as the chill night wind curled around her simple dress of plain grey, undyed linen, turning her skin to gooseflesh. On her tongue she tasted the acrid smoke from the burning tents, and she could hear the cries of the terrified labourers.

  Her command had been to keep casualties to a minimum. The Hyksos warriors would move forward on their powerful horses, driving out the labourers with the flats of their blades. Some men might fall beneath the onrushing hooves – that could not be avoided – but none were to be cut down. She saw no purpose in a massacre.

  All had gone as planned.

  Myssa looked to where Piay lay prone on the sand. She told herself she felt nothing. That was not entirely true, though. That strange emotion which she couldn’t quite identify lurked in the very depths of her.

  There was no reason why she should feel anything at all. Piay had been her captor, her oppressor. She heard the Cobra’s whispers rustle through her head. Piay could not be trusted. He cared nothing for her. If she ever dared voice her fears, Piay would whip her and beat her until she understood her lowly position. She could never let that happen again.