of Horus was pouring in to the tent.
Neria shuddered when she saw the great god Anubis walk out of the sun and towards the body. He had the body of a man but the big-eared, sharp-nosed head of a monstrous jackal.
Neria had expected to see the dead here. But this was a shock. This was Anubis … the God of the Dead himself.
Chapter 3
The First Mummy
Anubis walked between the tables and stumbled. He caught his toe on the leg of a table. The leg cracked, the table fell and the mummy of a man rolled onto the floor.
“Ohhhh!” Anubis roared with pain and anger. He raised his hands, grasped his ears and pulled. Neria blinked as Anubis pulled his head off.
But the head of Anubis was just a mask. Under the mask was the red and angry face of her father. “I hate this mask,” he grumbled as the chanting of the priests became a jumble of noise and stuttered to an end. “Can’t see a blind thing.”
He threw the mask to the ground and limped to the table where the old man’s body lay. “Has someone scooped out the brain?”
A young priest held up a bowl of grey mush. “Yes, Lord.”
“We’re in a hurry,” Neria’s father said. He looked at the body. “Sorry, Nesumontu,” he sighed. “I’ll have to do you without the mask.”
A priest handed Neria’s father a pen made from a reed and a pot of ink. He marked a line about the length of his hand on the old man’s side then turned to the man in black. “Right, Thekel, get on with it!”
Thekel took a sharp stone knife from his belt and sliced along the line her father had just drawn. He plunged his hand into the body, wriggled it around and quickly pulled out the stomach. A priest took it and wrapped it in a cloth. He took it off to a stone jar and plopped it in.
They did the same with the liver, kidneys, lungs and guts. When Thekel was finished, the priests began to jeer at him.
Thekel grinned and said, “Thanks, lads. But can we cut it short? We’re in a hurry today.”
“Oh, all right,” they agreed and went back to their jobs.
Thekel turned to Neria. “Right mistress, I need to give you a quick lesson in making a mummy.”
“But why did they call you all those names?” she asked. “Didn’t you mind?”
“Nah!” he chuckled. “It’s an unclean job. I do it and they have to drive me out of the House of Death because I am an unclean man. Just a sort of game really. Now I’ll just wash the blood off my hands and I’ll show you round.”
By the end of the morning Neria knew most of the things that went on in the House of Death. The bodies that had been emptied, like old Nesumontu’s, were washed with palm wine – inside and out – then they were ready to be dried out.
“We cover the body in this salty stuff – Natron,” Thekel explained. “We leave it for forty days until it’s dry as a desert beetle’s back, then we wrap it in bandages to make a mummy.”
Neria nodded towards a boy who was writing on parchment pieces. “What’s he doing?”
“Writing the Book of the Dead – prayers that are wrapped in the bandages. They help the dead person in the next life. The gods must be clever enough to read them. I never learned to read or write.”
“Neither did I,” Neria said.
“Never mind,” Thekel shrugged. “You won’t have to. Here is your table. All you have to do is turn Bastet into a mummy.”
Neria was just about to ask, “Who’s Bastet?” when she heard a loud noise and it was getting louder. “What’s that sound?”
“Trumpets,” Thekel said. “The Pharaoh is coming. Here we go! Stand by your tables, lads!”
Chapter 4
Cruel for Cats
Soldiers marched into the tent carrying the Pharaoh in a cloth cradle slung between two poles.
Neria’s father met the men and led them to an empty table. The girl saw that a cat was marching with the soldiers, tail held high and proud as if it was the Pharaoh himself.
Suddenly Thekel swooped and picked up the startled cat. He carried it carefully over to
Neria shuddered when she saw the great god Anubis walk out of the sun and towards the body. He had the body of a man but the big-eared, sharp-nosed head of a monstrous jackal.
Neria had expected to see the dead here. But this was a shock. This was Anubis … the God of the Dead himself.
Chapter 3
The First Mummy
Anubis walked between the tables and stumbled. He caught his toe on the leg of a table. The leg cracked, the table fell and the mummy of a man rolled onto the floor.
“Ohhhh!” Anubis roared with pain and anger. He raised his hands, grasped his ears and pulled. Neria blinked as Anubis pulled his head off.
But the head of Anubis was just a mask. Under the mask was the red and angry face of her father. “I hate this mask,” he grumbled as the chanting of the priests became a jumble of noise and stuttered to an end. “Can’t see a blind thing.”
He threw the mask to the ground and limped to the table where the old man’s body lay. “Has someone scooped out the brain?”
A young priest held up a bowl of grey mush. “Yes, Lord.”
“We’re in a hurry,” Neria’s father said. He looked at the body. “Sorry, Nesumontu,” he sighed. “I’ll have to do you without the mask.”
A priest handed Neria’s father a pen made from a reed and a pot of ink. He marked a line about the length of his hand on the old man’s side then turned to the man in black. “Right, Thekel, get on with it!”
Thekel took a sharp stone knife from his belt and sliced along the line her father had just drawn. He plunged his hand into the body, wriggled it around and quickly pulled out the stomach. A priest took it and wrapped it in a cloth. He took it off to a stone jar and plopped it in.
They did the same with the liver, kidneys, lungs and guts. When Thekel was finished, the priests began to jeer at him.
Thekel grinned and said, “Thanks, lads. But can we cut it short? We’re in a hurry today.”
“Oh, all right,” they agreed and went back to their jobs.
Thekel turned to Neria. “Right mistress, I need to give you a quick lesson in making a mummy.”
“But why did they call you all those names?” she asked. “Didn’t you mind?”
“Nah!” he chuckled. “It’s an unclean job. I do it and they have to drive me out of the House of Death because I am an unclean man. Just a sort of game really. Now I’ll just wash the blood off my hands and I’ll show you round.”
By the end of the morning Neria knew most of the things that went on in the House of Death. The bodies that had been emptied, like old Nesumontu’s, were washed with palm wine – inside and out – then they were ready to be dried out.
“We cover the body in this salty stuff – Natron,” Thekel explained. “We leave it for forty days until it’s dry as a desert beetle’s back, then we wrap it in bandages to make a mummy.”
Neria nodded towards a boy who was writing on parchment pieces. “What’s he doing?”
“Writing the Book of the Dead – prayers that are wrapped in the bandages. They help the dead person in the next life. The gods must be clever enough to read them. I never learned to read or write.”
“Neither did I,” Neria said.
“Never mind,” Thekel shrugged. “You won’t have to. Here is your table. All you have to do is turn Bastet into a mummy.”
Neria was just about to ask, “Who’s Bastet?” when she heard a loud noise and it was getting louder. “What’s that sound?”
“Trumpets,” Thekel said. “The Pharaoh is coming. Here we go! Stand by your tables, lads!”
Chapter 4
Cruel for Cats
Soldiers marched into the tent carrying the Pharaoh in a cloth cradle slung between two poles.
Neria’s father met the men and led them to an empty table. The girl saw that a cat was marching with the soldiers, tail held high and proud as if it was the Pharaoh himself.
Suddenly Thekel swooped and picked up the startled cat. He carried it carefully over to
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