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CHAPTER SEVEN

Hopi heard the hatch bang shut. He groped his way over to the stores of grain and flung himself down on the sacks. He was furious. Tutmose had betrayed him! After all that talk about the snake . . . Hopi couldn’t believe it. He thumped the sack of grain beneath him, reliving the look in the doctor’s eyes as he had lied outright. How could he! How could he?

Eventually he calmed down. It was very dark, but slowly his eyes adjusted. He could hear the footsteps on the deck above, the lapping of the Nile waters and the creaking of the wooden planks. And he could hear voices, but they were too muffled to understand. He soon found that he didn’t mind his punishment too much. It was actually quite peaceful. The warm air in the hold made him drowsy, and he drifted off to sleep.

When he woke, he was hungry. He could just about see, so he could tell that night had not yet fallen. He clambered over to the food caskets, opened one and felt inside. Dried figs! He stuffed one into his mouth before moving on to the next casket. That one was full of dates, and the next one packed with raisins. Hopi grinned. He wasn’t going to be hungry for long.

His stomach full, he began to feel bored. He decided to explore the hold more thoroughly, for something to do. He felt his way along the food stores – sacks of emmer wheat and barley, dried lentils and beans, a sealed pot of honey, rich pastries. There were all the mats, stakes and linens for the camp shelters. Then came a row of statues, carved in both wood and stone . . . and at the end of the hold, animal skins, cured and made into hangings and rugs.

The light was fading. His exploration complete, Hopi groped his way back along the sides of the hold, feeling the lining of thick grass that was supposed to soak up any leaks in the wooden planking. And then he stopped. His fingers touched something different. A leather pouch, buried in a thick tuft of grass. Hopi pulled it out. The pouch had a leather thong that tied it shut at the top. Fumbling in excitement, he undid the knot.

Inside, there were two little bottles, three smaller pouches and a tiny box. Hopi brought them out, one by one, feeling every last detail in the gloom. He sniffed them. Strange, unfamiliar scents reached his nostrils. Carefully, he tucked the big pouch under his arm and opened the box. He sniffed again. A powerful, pungent odour knocked him back. With one finger, he felt to see what sort of substance it was. Powder. It was foul-smelling powder.

.

The women and girls watched as Tutmose examined Hat-Neb, peering down his throat and pulling back his eyelids.

‘You will be perfectly well tomorrow,’ he said. ‘You are right. There must be something wrong with your wine.’

‘Thought so.’ Hat-Neb gave a satisfied grunt. ‘Well, I know how to deal with bad wine merchants. He’ll regret it. Now I’m going to sleep.’

The fat overseer rested his head on a pile of cushions and soon began to snore loudly. He didn’t seem the slightest bit sorry about Hopi. Isis felt distraught.

‘Don’t worry,’ whispered Sheri. ‘Hopi will be fine. We’re arriving tomorrow. It’s not for long.’

‘But Tutmose lied,’ Isis whispered back. ‘I know he did.’

Sheri squeezed her hand. ‘Isis, Hopi shouldn’t have brought a snake on to the boat. Whatever the doctor may have done, Hopi had to be punished. It will do him no harm.’

Isis didn’t think so. Hopi had nothing but rats and a viper for company. And if he said he hadn’t wanted to bring the snake on board, then he hadn’t. She got up and went out on to the deck. Perhaps she would be able to communicate with him somehow. But when she stepped outside, she saw at once that there were other problems on board. Kerem and Nebo were in the middle of a big argument.

‘Half the crew not working,’ Nebo was saying. ‘We do not pay lazy men.’

Kerem shook his head furiously. ‘We fight for you. We injured for you. Two men are very sick.’

Nebo towered over the captain. His face was ugly and menacing, and Isis was shocked. She had never seen him look like that before.

‘You do what I tell you,’ he growled.

But Kerem wasn’t intimidated. He folded his arms. ‘We are many,’ he said. ‘And you are few.’

Nebo drew himself up very tall. His eyes flashed, and he flexed his huge muscles. ‘I can snap you,’ he said. ‘You will see.’

He turned away, and for the first time, he saw Isis watching him. But his expression didn’t change. His eyes were cold. Isis felt as though he looked straight through her. Then he marched past her and into the cabin.

.

Hopi put everything back into the pouch. Menna had taught him about many powders and potions, which he combined with magic to treat scorpion stings and snake bites, but he didn’t recognise any of the smells and textures he’d found here. He knew there was only one man on the boat who was likely to have a secret supply of such things, and that was Tutmose.

Why had Tutmose hidden these supplies in the depths of the hold? He kept most of his medicines in the cabin, where they were easily reached. Hopi lay back on the sacks, thinking. Perhaps, after all, Isis was right – perhaps the doctor was up to something. Hopi remembered her story about Hat-Neb’s fan. It was a magical, powerful object, and deep down, Hopi knew that Tutmose had no business touching it . . . unless it was to tamper with its magic in some way.

And then there was his mysterious visit to the town that morning. A doctor could have found normal medical supplies easily enough, if he’d wanted to. He didn’t have to sneak around using a false name. Hopi’s hand drifted to the viper’s basket. Tutmose had taken an interest in Hopi’s skills from the word go. And he had felt so flattered by it! He had thought that the doctor held him in genuine respect. Hopi’s heart clouded with anger once more as he thought of how Tutmose had betrayed him. Now he could see that the doctor had his own agenda. And slowly Hopi was realising what it might be . . .

It was now very dark in the hold, and Hopi listened for signs that they were heading to shore. Someone would have to come down to the cabin for supplies before nightfall. Sure enough, there was a scraping of wood as the hatch opened, and feet climbed down the ladder. It was Kerem and two of the crew.

Kerem bowed to Hopi respectfully. ‘We need to take food and shelter to the deck,’ he said.

‘Of course,’ said Hopi. ‘Go ahead.’

The crew members began to hoist the linen camp shelters on to their backs, while Kerem stared at Hopi curiously. ‘This is strange place to sit. What are you doing down here?’

‘Don’t you know?’ Hopi shrugged. ‘Hat-Neb and Nebo are punishing me.’

‘Punishing you!’ Kerem looked shocked. ‘But you the priest. You still have the snake god?’

‘Yes, he’s still here,’ replied Hopi. ‘He’s safe.’ He indicated his bag.

‘Why do they punish you?’

Hopi gave a wry smile. ‘They don’t respect the snake god,’ he said. ‘They don’t want it on board.’

Kerem’s face darkened. ‘These men –’ he said. ‘We have had enough.’ He glanced back at the hatch to check that no one else was there. ‘They think we are stupid and desperate. They treat us very bad. Maybe you do not see this, but it is true.’

Hopi thought of the injured man crumpling to the ground as Nebo punched him. ‘I have seen it. I know how Nebo behaves. He and Hat-Neb are both evil.’

‘Yes. It is more than our honour will bear. We will not take it any more. And there is something else.’ Kerem’s eyes flashed. ‘We have no reason to serve him longer, because of what we heard on the riverbank. You remember the men that we fight? They laugh at us. They say we will never be paid in Djeba. And now we think they are right.’

Hopi did remember. He pictured the leader heading back to the tug, calling over his shoulder, ‘If that motley crew of yours think they’ll get a fortune in Djeba, they are even more foolish than they look . . .’

‘Whatever we do, we do it before we get to Djeba,’ Kerem carried on. ‘When we get to the town, it will be too late. There will be many others to protect him.’ His men were now loaded up with mats, rugs and stakes for building shelters. He nodded to them, and they began to climb to the deck. Then he turned back to Hopi. ‘You saved us once,’ he said. ‘Are you with us now?’

Hopi hesitated. He wasn’t sure what Kerem had planned, or if there was anything that he could do to help. But if the captain wanted support against Hat-Neb and Nebo, he should surely give it.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I’m with you.’

Kerem nodded, satisfied. ‘Good.’ He picked up a casket of figs, and headed out of the hold.

.

Isis was still on the deck. She had tried peering through the planks into the hold, but she couldn’t see a thing. When Kerem emerged, she ran to him.

‘Kerem,’ she asked, ‘is Hopi all right?’

The captain looked at her. ‘He is well enough. But this punishment is a great evil,’ he muttered darkly. ‘Hat-Neb thinks he is strong, but no one can fight the gods.’

His words frightened Isis. It was getting dark, and the men were not behaving as they usually did at this hour. They moved slowly, sullenly, and some were doing nothing at all.

Nebo appeared out of the cabin. ‘What is happening?’ demanded the fan-bearer. ‘Darkness is coming. Why are we not going to shore?’

The crew members looked at each other. They might not speak Egyptian, but they understood Nebo clearly enough. Before Kerem could answer, one of them stepped forward and made a rude gesture, right in the fan-bearer’s face.

Nebo’s response was like lightning. He grabbed the man’s arm and spun him around so that his arm was twisted at a terrible angle up his back. Then, with his other hand, Nebo wrenched the man’s elbow. There was a ghastly crunching, tearing sound. The man screamed. Nebo threw him down on the deck and watched him howl in agony.

‘I told you,’ he said, looking around at the men. ‘If you do not do what I say, there is easy answer for me.’

Isis stared at Nebo in disbelief. This was the man who had promised to protect her, but he had just done . . . that. It was terrible. She couldn’t move. Her throat felt dry. And now things were happening fast. The crew were gathering together, shoulder to shoulder. Silently, they drew weapons. Kerem spoke to one of them, and he disappeared into the hold. When he came back, he brought with him Hopi, carrying his basket in his arms.

Night had fallen. The moon had not yet risen, and the boat was drifting on the Nile. One of the men held a flaming torch in his hand, which cast eerie shadows across the deck.

‘You will not break us.’ Kerem faced the fan-bearer with a curved bronze dagger in his hand. ‘We suffer, yes. But we are strong, and the snake god is with us.’

Nebo sneered, but Isis saw that he was afraid. ‘The boy is nothing,’ he retorted. ‘And you are nothing. You mercenaries all the same. All you think of is gold. But if you touch me, there will be no gold.’

Kerem’s eyes filled with hatred. ‘This what you think,’ he said. ‘But you know nothing about us. The sick men my brothers.’ Then he pointed to the man that Nebo had injured. ‘This man my uncle’s son.’ He lifted the tip of his dagger so that it just touched the fan-bearer’s throat. ‘Some things more important than gold.’