.

PROLOGUE

Sweat ran down the men’s backs. It trickled down their foreheads and into their eyes. The ropes chafed their shoulders and hands, cutting into their flesh, so that blood mingled with the sweat.

‘Heave!’ shouted Hat-Neb, the overseer.

The men heaved, and the huge block of stone inched up the ramp.

‘Useless! It’s hardly moved! Heave!’ yelled Hat-Neb. He turned to his deputy. ‘What’s that you’ve got in your hand?’

‘A whip, sir.’ The deputy looked troubled.

‘Then why aren’t you using it?’ Hat-Neb’s face was twisted with fury. ‘These men are useless, lazy good-for-nothings. Whip them!’

The deputy looked uneasy. ‘Sir, they’re doing their best. Five men fell sick yesterday and cannot work. Those that are here haven’t rested since dawn.’

Hat-Neb narrowed his eyes. ‘Are you disobeying me?’

The deputy said nothing. He wiped a hand across his forehead, then, reluctantly, he raised his whip and turned towards the men. The whip whistled through the air, and the men cried out in pain. The block of stone shifted a tiny bit further up the ramp.

The temple was half built. It would be beautiful when it was finished, glistening with white paint overlaid with brilliant colours. Its images and hieroglyphs would all speak of the glory of Horus, the king of the gods.

But the building process wasn’t such a beautiful sight. Things were falling behind, because a nasty sickness was spreading among the men. It made them vomit and sweat, and it left them weak and shaking. They needed to rest for several days before they could work again. But Hat-Neb was cruel and merciless. He had no sympathy. He just worked the other men harder and harder until some of them thought they would die of exhaustion.

The deputy raised his whip again, but he didn’t crack it. He could see that the men were close to breaking. In fact, they were so exhausted that there was a risk they would let go of the rope altogether.

‘Steady, men!’ he shouted. ‘Hold it there!’ He turned to Hat-Neb and spoke urgently, ‘Sir, we need to give them a rest. The stone is unstable – we must secure it –’

He spoke too late. The men had lost control of the rope. Their muscles were too tired to hold on any longer and the massive stone was beginning to slip. They cried out in agony as the rope ripped through their hands, tearing their skin. And the stone moved faster, faster, faster down the slope.

The next few seconds passed in a blur. The stone continued to plummet. The men at the top of the ramp looked down in horror. Meanwhile Ipuy, a young scribe, hurried towards the overseer to deliver a report, his head bent with busy thoughts. He didn’t see the stone. The deputy opened his mouth to shout.

‘Ipuy!’

Ipuy glanced up at the ramp. It was the last thing he would ever see – the ramp, and the massive block of limestone that was about to snuff out his life. He gave a short, final scream. And then he was dead.

For one instant, silence fell as dust settled and the men stood still in shock. It was the deputy who moved first, hurtling towards the great stone and the young man who lay beneath it. His heart was already bursting with grief.

‘No! No, no!’ he cried. ‘Not Ipuy. Please, please not Ipuy . . .’

But all that could be seen of Ipuy was one leg, jutting out from beneath the stone. There was no hope, no hope at all. The deputy sank to the ground, and clutched that one foot and leg, soaking it in tears. Ipuy had been his best friend.

It was some time before the men could tear him away. But the stone had to be lifted, and the body pulled out. The deputy looked up to see Hat-Neb shouting orders.

‘Stop gawping!’ he barked. ‘Anyone would think you’d never seen a corpse before! Form two lines and start lifting!’

The deputy gazed at him through his watery eyes. I hate you, he thought. You have brought nothing but hardship and misery to me and my men. Now you have killed my best friend. I hate you. And if it’s the last thing I do, I will get my revenge.