Going for Gold (10 page)

“Hurry if you’re coming, Miss!” the watchman called hoarsely to Khamsin, obviously terrified someone would shop him to the Romans.

The gates were closing behind us when someone shrieked “WAIT!” A girl squeezed through an almost non-existent gap.

“Amisi!” gasped Khamsin.

It was too dark to see Amisi clearly, but I knew immediately what had happened. Violence doesn’t only leave bruises and broken bones, it leaves a really ugly vibe.

Seeing her grand plan going out the window, Khamsin was too freaked to notice. She dragged Amisi out of earshot. “This isn’t going to work,” she hissed. “They won’t take two perfume blenders from one town.”

Amisi sounded pitiful. “I know, I wouldn’t have come. I just thought, with your dad—”

“He’s dead,” Khamsin told her bleakly. “I’m supposed to be next.”

Amisi gave a gasp. “Oh Khamsin.”

Suddenly both girls were holding on to each other, weeping.

At last Amisi let her go, giving her a little push. “Hurry or they’ll leave you behind. I’ll pray to Isis to keep you safe.”

Khamsin hovered, clearly unsure about leaving Amisi outside the city walls. “But they won’t let you back in now till morning.”

“I don’t mind. It’s peaceful out here. Have a good life, Khamsin.” Amisi couldn’t quite manage to hide her tears.

Khamsin suddenly peered into her face. I heard her suck in her breath. “Who’s been hitting you?”

“My uncle.” Amisi whispered, instinctively covering her damaged eye. “I can’t go back there, Khamsin, I can’t!”

“No, because I won’t let you,” said Khamsin grimly. “What else can you do apart from blend perfumes?”

“I can charm snakes,” offered Amisi. She managed a wan smile. “It’s a family thing. My granny could do it.”

Khamsin frowned. “Snake charmers weren’t on the list.” I could feel her mind working overtime. “They need dancers. Can you dance?”

Amisi sounded ashamed. “Like a hippo my uncle says. Perfume and snakes - that’s all I know.”

Khamsin took a deep breath. “Perfume blending it is then.”

“But you said they wouldn’t take—?”

Khamsin just linked arms with Amisi as if everything was settled. “I’m assuming we won’t have to walk all the way to Alexandria to find out what our queen is up to?” she said with a tired grin. “I left before her messenger got to the travel arrangements part.”

Visibly stunned by Khamsin’s turn around, Amisi was trying not to cry.

“A mule caravan leaves tonight,” she gulped. “But we have to see someone called Mardian first. If he doesn’t choose us, we’ll have to go back.”

“He’ll choose us, don’t worry,” said Khamsin fiercely.

Maia made a rude noise. “How random is this girl? Weighing herself down with stray kittens and lame ducks. She’d better not be planning to share Nefertiti’s secret recipe with Amisi, that’s all I can say!”

I’d had to stop to blow my nose. I couldn’t believe how lovely Khamsin was being, on what surely must seem like the worst night of her life. “Why would that be so wrong?” I sniffled.

“Hello! This is Khamsin’s chance to make it big! Not too sensible to just hand it all over to the first human with a hard luck story!”

I opened my mouth and immediately shut it again.

Maia gave a deep sigh. “Oh bum! Is this one of those love ‘n light things that a rubbish angel like me couldn’t possibly understand?”

I gave a splutter of surprised laughter through my tears. “Kind of,” I admitted.

On second thoughts I decided Maia wasn’t doing so badly. Brice was back from the Hell dimensions ages before he could crack dark angel jokes.

We’d arrived back at Cleopatra’s barge.

Adjo was ushering people on to the boat in ones and twos. The rest waited their turn, talking quietly.

“She’s not like those other Ptolemies,” said a young silversmith. “Couldn’t be bothered to learn two words of our language most of them. Never set foot outside that big white palace, so I heard!”

“Imagine that sweet young girl growing up in that nest of vipers,” tisked someone. “Didn’t one of her brothers try to have her killed?”

“Her own sister plotted against her,” said the silversmith grimly. “But she was a match for all of them. I don’t care if her ancestors were from Macedonia or they came from the moon, Cleopatra has an Egyptian heart. If anyone can make Egypt great again, she can!”

At last it was Khamsin and Amisi’s turn to follow Adjo across the plank. He led them into the circle of torch-light where Mardian waited to meet them. Neither of them looked much like potential royal perfumers, I have to say.

Mardian wore an immense gold collar with his gorgeous robes, a sign of his v. important status at Cleopatra’s court, I found out later. He sat smiling and patient in his high-backed chair, also made of solid gold, even though I could tell he was secretly longing for his bed.

Beside him sat one of the most elegant young women I’d ever seen. Except that it was long and flowing, I don’t remember what she was wearing I just remember her jewels, a simple circle of pearls fastened around her brow, glimmering softly against her ebony skin.

Baraka introduced her as Lady Iras, the queen’s lady in waiting. Amisi looked ready to faint. If these godlike beings just worked for Cleopatra, what must the queen be like!!

When Mardian asked what two such young girls were doing on the wrong side of the city wall in the middle of the night, Khamsin flashed, “On the queen’s business same as you, sir. My friend and I risked our lives to bring her majesty something of great importance and - antiquity,” she pronounced carefully.

“Very well,” he sighed. “Show me your ancient relic.”

Khamsin backed out of reach. “I can’t do that sir.”

He looked astounded. “Dear child, do you think I would steal it?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” she said firmly. “This is all I - we have - to make our way in the world. It’s for the queen’s eyes only, sir.”

Mardian’s eyebrows shot up. “You do think I’d

steal it!”

“Child, you go too far,” Adjo said through clenched teeth.

“I’m sorry sir, but it does happen, sir,” Khamsin

said stubbornly.

Lady Iras leaned forward. “This offering must be something very precious. May we at least know what it is?”

Khamsin nodded, relieved. “Oh yes please, madam.”

She explained as quickly as possible about the royal perfume recipe passed from mother to daughter for over a thousand years.

Mardian gave an involuntary glance into the darkness, where volunteers still waited to be interviewed. “An intriguing tale,” he said politely. “And I sympathise with your dilemma, but if you won’t show us, how do we know you’re telling the truth?”

“Ho-ho, a stand-off,” Maia giggled in my ear.

Amisi whispered, “Show them, Khamsin, just don’t let them touch it.”

“They could just grab it!” Khamsin hissed.

“They won’t. They work for her,” Amisi whispered back.

“All right,” Khamsin agreed unhappily. She untied her belt, and after a short struggle managed to extract the scrolls, while the VIPs politely looked away. Khamsin unrolled a few inches of papyrus and nervously held it up.

Mardian glanced, not too hopefully, at the scroll then I saw his expression change. “More light!” he bellowed.

A slave hurried over with a fresh torch.

Mardian abruptly switched from Egyptian to Greek. “I actually believe it’s genuine. This is definitely Nefertiti’s cartouche!” He gave a dubious glance at the girls. “Do you think they stole it?”

Khamsin suddenly interrupted, also in Greek, to their obvious surprise. “I speak six languages and I can understand every word you say.”

Mardian tried to interrupt but she rushed on.

“I am not some little girl making flower petal perfume for her dollies. All my ancestors were perfume blenders. Perfume making runs in my blood. I can identify six different varieties of rose absolute blindfolded. I know how to use essences to lift a mood or calm a racing mind. While my father lay ill, I haggled with his traders for him, and I took over blending the incense for the temple. THREE different kinds, sir, for three different times of day -and nobody guessed I did it and not my father.”

“I’m not quite sure what you’re saying,” said Mardian, obviously taken aback.

“I am saying we did not steal it sir,” said Khamsin bravely. “It was my mother’s wish that I should inherit it.”

Mardian and Iras had a murmured conversation. Lady Iras turned to Khamsin. “How is your father now?’

“He died just tonight, madam.” Khamsin only just managed to keep her voice from shaking.

“And how old are you, my dears?’ asked Lady Iras.

“I am thirteen,” said Khamsin.

“Twelve and a half,” whispered Amisi, twisting her hands in her skirt.

“And is perfume blending in your blood too?” Lady Iras asked Amisi.

“Yes, madam.” Her voice was almost inaudible.

Mardian and Lady Iras briefly conferred again.

“If we take you, will you both do your utmost to recreate this perfume for the queen?” Mardian asked them in his dry tone.

They nodded eagerly.

“And no one will come after us accusing us of child-stealing?”

Khamsin’s face was stony. “My step-mother and her boyfriend will be happy to see me go.”

“And will your unusually silent friend’s family be happy to see her go?”

That little kitty had the best cosmic timing! She suddenly poked her head out of Khamsin’s basket with a friendly ‘Pirrip!’, like, “Hi, you starry VIPs!”

Lady Iras burst into delighted laughter.

Mardian beckoned to Baraka. “We will take a gamble on these young criminals,” he said, chuckling. “I’m not so sure about their accomplice! From the way she is scratching, I suspect she has fleas.”

Khamsin shook her head. “She has to come. The gods sent her to me.”

Mardian and Lady Iras seemed to think this was a perfectly normal thing to say. “When the gods send gifts, only a fool turns them away,” Lady Iras agreed.

“Find somewhere for them to sleep,” Mardian told Baraka. “Clear a storeroom if need be.”

Baraka seemed startled. “You intend them to travel with us, my lord?”

Mardian stifled a yawn. “The papyrus has survived for over one thousand eight hundred years. It would be a shame to lose it to bandits now, don’t you think?”

“He’s such a sweetie,” I whispered to Maia. “He feels genuinely protective towards those girls.”

“I doubt it. Humans usually turn out to have a secret agenda.”

“Maia!” I protested.

She giggled. “Oops - was my dark side showing again!”

“Just a bit!”

I couldn’t help laughing. Maia was outrageous sometimes.

I heard Baraka teasing the girls as they stumbled sleepily below decks. “It’s ten days or more to Alexandria by river. If you haven’t come up with the goods by then we’ll just have to throw you to the crocodiles.”

“Do you see how the Universe works!” I wanted to tell Maia. “We went with the flow, and it still panned out!” Not only were we still on track for saving Egypt, we were going to do it in luxury!

But no one likes to hear, “I told you so.” Plus if we were going to be stuck on the same boat for ten days, we had heaps of time to work on Maia’s attitude.

Chapter Fourteen

I
could feel the river flying past in my sleep as Cleopatra’s barge travelled through what was left of the night. Tomorrow we’d stop at Abydos, the next town along the Nile, where Mardian and his team would rope in another batch of gifted humans for the queen’s mystery project. Before he left the girls to settle for the night, Baraka had reeled off the names of the other towns where we’d be stopping over on our journey; Hermopolis, Heliopolis, Memphis, Saqqara, Giza with its famous pyramids…

I vaguely heard Maia leave the cabin in the early hours, muttering about a headache and fresh air.

The next thing I knew, I felt a light dab on my cheek. I opened my eyes to see Khamsin’s cat gazing intensely into my face. When she saw I was awake she started washing, tail-tip twitching, obviously alert to every tiny sound, like, Don’t let your guard down, angel girl. You lucked out with the royal barge, but these are dangerous times.

“I don’t know, kitty!” I teased her. “Divine cats are soo bossy!”

I was just playing. I knew the cat wasn’t really talking to me.

A woman slave softly entered the cabin with a jug of scented hot water. Another slave followed with an armful of freshly ironed clothes. The slaves left as silently as they came, but they had somehow changed the vibe in the cabin and Khamsin and Amisi sleepily opened their eyes.

I wish you’d seen their faces as they took in the full gorgeousness of their accommodation for the first time - the carved furniture made from exotic scented wood, the richly coloured rugs and hangings.

Amisi pulled the sheet over her head and I heard a muffled wail. “I want to stay in this dream forever!”

A male slave stole in with a tray laden with fruits and preserves, and a stack of warm flat bread wrapped in a snowy cloth.

When he’d gone, Amisi slipped out of bed and tiptoed to the tray. I heard her stomach growl. “Khamsin,” she hissed. “This tray is made of go/d!”