The Sacred Scarab Read Online Free PDF

going. He followed a couple of them and found that they had burrows. Somehow, they shoved their precious balls inside, down into the earth, and covered them up.
    ‘Hey!’
    The voice made Hopi jump. He looked around. A peasant farmer was marching over the field, waving his stick.
    ‘What are you doing here?’ the man demanded. ‘You’re trespassing.’
    ‘Oh, I’m sorry.’ Hopi pointed at the ground. ‘I was just watching some scarabs.’
    ‘Very likely. Where are you from?’
    ‘Just from Waset. My tutor sent me to study here – I’m training to be a priest,’ Hopi told him hurriedly. ‘A priest of Serqet.’
    The farmer rubbed his chin. He looked doubtful, but didn’t dare question Hopi’s words. ‘A priest, eh? Can’t see why a priest needs to poke around in the bare earth.’
    Hopi tended to agree with him, but he had no other explanation for being there. It would be safer to change the subject. ‘Did you have a good harvest?’ he asked. ‘Looks like you managed to bring it all in.’
    The farmer grunted and folded his arms. ‘Harvest was fair enough. Rotten, cheating tax collectors, that’s our problem.’
    Hopi’s ears pricked up. ‘Really? What happened?’
    ‘You see those markers there.’ The farmer pointed to some little white stones that stretched across the field. ‘Well, beyond those stones it’s my neighbour’s land. We’ve kept track of that boundary as far back as I can remember, never had a problem. Now, when that new tax collector Abana came along last week, he said they’d been moved. “According to our records.” That’s what he said. Showed us this big papyrus scroll all covered in marks.’
    Abana. That name was cropping up a lot lately.
    ‘And were the records correct?’ asked Hopi.
    The farmer shrugged. ‘How should I know? The likes of us can’t read.’
    Of course. It was all too easy to fool someone uneducated. ‘But didn’t you protest?’ asked Hopi.
    ‘Didn’t have a chance,’ growled the farmer. ‘He and his men loaded up the extra taxes and moved on. When I spoke to my neighbour, it turned out they’d played exactly the same trick on him. Dirty scoundrels.’
    Hopi felt himself growing hot with indignation. Abana was the man who had cheated Sinuhe, too. ‘But that’s so wrong!’ he exclaimed. ‘These men are servants of the gods and king. They should be brought to account!’
    The farmer threw him a cynical look. ‘Yes, well, you’re young, lad. You would say that.’
    .
    ‘Take this bowl of food to our cousin Sinuhe, Isis,’ said Sheri. ‘Then hurry upstairs and get yourself ready. It’s almost time to leave.’
    Isis took the fish stew and bread through to the front room, peering inside before entering. Sinuhe was lying down, staring blankly at the wall, and the room was full of his earthy odour. Isis felt it catch in her throat. She placed the bowl before him. Sinuhe said nothing. Isis watched as he sat upright and reached for the bread. He tore it in two with his big, rough hands, and dipped one half in the stew. He didn’t even look at Isis.
    ‘Isis!’ Kia’s voice drifted down the stairs. ‘Hurry up!’
    She turned and skipped away, but the image of those gnarled, grubby hands stuck in her mind as she prepared her own smooth body for the evening’s dancing. Kia covered her in sweet-smelling oils and placed a short, neat wig on her head. Isis adjusted it, peering into the bronze mirror that Sheri held for her. Then she reached for a band of beads that fitted over the wig, adding a splash of colour, and for another band to sling around her waist.
    ‘Just your make-up and you’ll be done,’ said Sheri. ‘We need to hurry. We’re going to be late.’
    Isis turned to Mut, who was sitting with the pots of kohl and red ochre. The two girls always did each other’s make-up, so it felt very strange not to be doing Mut’s. Mut wasn’t even coming; she was going to stay behind with Hopi, Ramose and Kha – and Sinuhe, of course.