Ra the Mighty, page 10
“So what will happen?” I asked. “Who will be dismissed?”
“No one,” Khepri said. “It turned out Pharaoh didn’t know about the Overseer’s plans. When Pharaoh heard about them this morning, he said he sees no reason to dismiss loyal servants. He’s going to move two of the underservants to his mother’s household, and he’ll make the rest of the savings elsewhere.”
“And that’s not all Pharaoh had to say,” Miu added. “He ruled that his mother may keep the Eye of Horus. She’s also to be given a much better set of rooms.”
“But the new rooms will be in a different palace, farther down the Nile,” Khepri said. “That should help keep the peace between the Great Wife and the Royal Mother.”
“And what about Bebi?” I asked.
“Bebi is going with her, but Pharaoh said he had to be put on a chain,” Khepri said. “It’s not just because of the stealing. Pharaoh questioned Tedimut and examined her injuries, and he ruled that Bebi can’t be trusted around children.”
A chain was a terrible thing, but I understood Pharaoh’s decision. I was still angry that Bebi had thrown a stone at Tedimut and that he’d used Aat to hunt us down. What made it worse was that Bebi wasn’t sorry. He would do anything to help the Royal Mother. I was relieved he was powerless to harm anyone now.
We came out onto the broad steps that led down to the palace’s river landing.
“Look.” Miu pointed with her paw as Khepri hopped off my head. “They’re leaving.”
A boat was leaving the landing, its white sail blinding-bright in the morning sunshine. Under a canopy, in the position of honor, sat Pharaoh’s mother. Next to her was Bebi. I could just make out the thick golden chain that now twined through his fur.
I saluted him with my tail, for old friendship’s sake. He looked up, and I’m sure he saw me, but he turned his face away.
Being a Great Detective isn’t easy. It’s hard on the paws and the stomach. It can even cost you a friendship or two. But luckily, it can also teach you who your real friends are. I moved closer to Miu and Khepri, and together we watched the boat sail down the Nile.
When it vanished from sight, Miu turned to me. “Ra, you still haven’t told me how you solved the crime.”
“Oh, it was easy,” I said. “You tell her, Khepri.”
“Well, it was Ra who really cracked it,” Khepri said.
I had? How? I kept quiet, while trying to look wise.
“Ra was paying attention to exactly what Aat said,” Khepri went on. “Someone had freed Aat—that much was clear from her collar. But she gave the game away when she said it was someone who wanted Tedimut caught, who was tired of Ra nosing around and asking questions. That suggested someone was upset about our investigations—upset enough to unleash Aat on Ra. But who knew what we were up to? That’s what I asked myself.”
Oh! I started to see his point. “Our human suspects didn’t know we were doing detective work.”
“Right,” Khepri agreed. “They have no idea that we can talk to one another, and they didn’t suspect that we were trying to solve the crime. But Aat and Bebi and the doves knew we were on the case. So it had to be one of them, or some other animal they’d talked to.”
“How did you narrow it down to Bebi?” Miu asked.
“He was the only one with a motive,” Khepri said. “None of the other animals had any connection with the Eye of Horus, but it used to belong to Bebi’s mistress. And I remembered what Aat had said—that the other missing objects were old and not particularly valued by the Great Wife. It occurred to me that maybe they had belonged to Pharaoh’s mother, too—and that she and Bebi had wanted them back.”
Ah, I thought, so that’s how Khepri knew.
“I wondered how he got past the guards,” Khepri said, “but then I thought about how Aat had attacked us from the roof. Then I remembered the palm trees by the door in Pharaoh’s mother’s courtyard, and I realized Bebi probably could have used them to reach the roof.
“And there was an even stronger reason why it had to be Bebi,” Khepri went on. “Tedimut was attacked by someone who threw a rock at her head. To throw, you have to have hands. And to take Aat off her chain, you needed hands, too. Bebi is the only animal here who has them.”
“You see?” I said to Miu, satisfied. “It was obvious.”
“Well, I can’t say I saw it myself,” Miu said, “but then my mind was on Tedimut. I’m so relieved you managed to clear her name.” She looked happier than I’d ever seen her. “Hooray for the Great Detective and his sidekick!”
I looked down at Khepri. He didn’t seem as pleased with Miu’s cheer as you might expect. And I thought I knew why.
“Make that the two Great Detectives,” I said.
Khepri gave a delighted click. “Yes!”
And what about Miu? After all, she was the one who’d found Tedimut’s hiding place. “The three Great Detectives,” I amended.
Khepri fluttered his wings. “And the three great friends!”
“Hear, hear,” Miu meowed.
We all cheered.
Khepri hopped back up to my head. “So what’s our next case, Ra?”
“Next case?” I squinted. “You mean you want to do this again?”
“Of course!” Khepri said with a bounce. “I’ve never had so much fun in my life.”
Fun? Was he serious? I rolled my eyes.
Miu gave me a cat smile.
Hmmm…On the whole, I suppose it had been fun.
“Well, maybe we could do it again sometime,” I said as we turned to go. “But first—”
I stopped to yawn.
“First what?” Khepri asked.
“Yes, what?” Miu wanted to know.
“First, we have some snacks.” With Miu beside me and Khepri on my head, I padded back toward the pool. “And then a nice, long nap.”
Aat ( aht): A spotted beauty (at least in her own eyes). Watch out for the claws!
Bebi ( beb-ee): Wise companion of the Royal Mother. My father’s old friend (and mine).
Bastet ( bas-tet): My favorite goddess, paws down. Not to brag, but I’m a direct descendant.
Horus ( hor-us): Falcon god. Protector of Pharaoh. Owner of a famous eye.
Ibi ( ib-ee): Frequent flier. Top gossip. Willing to eat almost anything.
Ini ( in-ee): Also a frequent flier and top gossip, but more picky about food.
Khepri ( kep-ree): My scarab beetle buddy. As he likes to remind me, it’s also the name of a god of creation and renewal.
Ma’at ( mah-aht): The goddess of balance and justice and truth. All Great Detectives serve Ma’at.
Miu ( mew): A humble name for a determined cat.
Nefrubity ( nef-roo-bit-ee): One of the Great Wife’s ladies. Look for the one with the most kohl around her eyes.
Nekhbet ( neck-bet): Vulture goddess and protector of the Pharaoh.
Sebni ( seb-nee): A cook in Pharaoh’s superb kitchens. We’ve never met, but Miu is fond of him.
Shepenupet ( shep-eh-noo-pet): Head of the Great Wife’s ladies. Fond of Babycakes.
Tawerettenru ( tah-wah-ret-ten-roo): Another one of the Great Wife’s ladies. A real talker.
Tedimut ( ted-i-mut): Lowly assistant to the Great Wife’s ladies. A girl who treats cats with the respect they deserve.
Thebes ( theebs): Famous for the Temple of Amun, with its hall of enormous columns. Site of the best snacks in the kingdom.
Thoth ( thawth): God of learning and writing and scribes. In the schoolroom he’s shown with the head of a baboon, but sometimes he has the head of an ibis instead.
Wadjet ( wahd-jet): Snake goddess, usually shown as a cobra. She and Nekhbet often appear together, sometimes next to an Eye of Horus.
Wedjebten ( wed-jeb-ten): Yet another one of the Great Wife’s ladies. (Really, how many people does it take to get dressed in the morning?)
Yuya ( yoo-yah): Tutor to the royal sons and their companions. Nephew of Lady Nefrubity. No respecter of cats.
Note: No one knows for certain how ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics were pronounced. Even Egyptologists don’t know! For example, some pronounce the name Thoth as “thawth,” while others say “tawt”—and there are other possibilities, too.
Stories can start in the strangest places. This one started in the Egyptian Sculpture Gallery of the British Museum, where you can find a statue of Ra and Khepri. If you ever go there, walk toward the back and gaze to your right, and you’ll see it in a case all by itself. Just look for the cat wearing an Eye of Horus amulet. The museum calls the statue the Gayer-Anderson Cat, but if you look closely, you’ll notice a scarab beetle riding on top of the cat’s head. Who else could it be but Ra and Khepri?
Although this story comes from my imagination, it has roots in real history. Wherever possible, I’ve used actual facts about ancient Egypt to create Ra’s world.
Ra is right, for example, in thinking that cats had a special place in ancient Egyptian life. Most Egyptian gods had animal features or an animal form, and the goddess Bastet was almost always shown as a cat or a cat-headed woman. She was a protector of children, the family, and the home, and she could be both gentle and fierce, just like a real cat. A temple in the Egyptian city of Bubastis was devoted to her worship, and priests and pharaohs performed ceremonies to honor her.
The great sun god Ra was sometimes shown as a cat as well, although there was nothing gentle about him. Wielding a ferocious knife, he battled with a serpent that represented the forces of darkness and chaos.
Egyptians also loved ordinary cats. This was partly because cats kept rats from eating their food, but Egyptians seem to have liked cats for their own sake. Tomb builders sketched funny drawings of them on shards of pottery. Painters showed them hunting or curling up under chairs. Sometimes people were even named after cats—including the pharaoh Pa-miu, whose name meant “tomcat.”
As far as I can tell, there was no official position of “Pharaoh’s Cat” in ancient Egypt, but cats were certainly kept as pets by Pharaoh and his family. So were leopards, baboons, and turtledoves. Lions, monkeys, falcons, greyhounds, and horses were also popular royal pets. Pharaohs may sometimes have kept antelope, gazelles, ibexes, giraffes, and elephants as well.
No doubt there were scarab beetles at the palace, too. Ancient Egyptians were impressed by the way these beetles rolled dung into huge balls, and by the way the tiny beetle babies emerged from those balls. To Egyptians, scarabs propelling dung balls were like gods helping the sun cross the sky, giving life to all creation. This is why the Egyptian creator god Khepri was almost always depicted as a scarab beetle. Many Egyptians wore scarab-shaped amulets for luck and protection, and a scarab-shaped stone was often placed over a mummy’s heart.
What about Ra’s snacks? Do those have any basis in fact? Well, yes. Although Egyptians loved animals, they also liked to eat meat. From tomb paintings, grave goods, and written records, we know that pharaohs, their families, and other wealthy Egyptians ate beef, pork, venison, duck, goose, ibex, gazelle, and antelope. They liked their meat boiled, stewed, or roasted with butter and oil (and probably their cats liked it that way, too). They wouldn’t touch fish, however, which they considered unclean. Indeed, if you ate fish, you weren’t welcome in the palace.
Ordinary Egyptians rarely, if ever, ate meat. Most were poor farmers, and it was often hard for them to make a living, especially in times of drought and famine. They would have considered a girl like Tedimut very lucky. Because she had a job in one of Pharaoh’s palaces, she would always have a place to sleep and food to eat.
By modern standards, Tedimut’s life was hard, but most children in ancient Egypt were expected to work, either beside their parents or for others. Only the sons of noblemen and scribes were educated by tutors like Yuya. Children were much loved by their families, but most never learned to read or write, and instead learned skills from their parents or relatives. Farmers’ sons learned to farm, fishermen’s sons learned to fish, and potters’ sons learned to make pots. Daughters were usually taught how to run a household, but since some women later ran businesses of their own, they must have learned how to do essential arithmetic, too.
Our understanding of justice in ancient Egypt is patchy. We do know, however, that Ma’at—the ideal of justice and balance, as symbolized by the goddess of that name—was important. We also know it was against the law to steal. An ordinary case of theft would be investigated first by local police and officials, who were allowed to beat and torture suspects. If the case couldn’t be resolved, other officials became involved. Punishments could include beating, branding, forced labor, or mutilation. The ultimate judge in the land was the pharaoh, and stealing from the pharaoh himself (or from a temple or royal tomb) was an especially serious crime. It could be considered treason, and the thief could be punished by death.
Finally, I should note that there really was a Director of the Royal Loincloths. There was also a Director of Wigmakers, a Lord of the Royal Wardrobe, and a Chief of the Scented Oils and Pastes for Rubbing His Majesty’s Body. Egyptian palaces were full of people with remarkable—and often very long—titles.
There are many, many books about ancient Egypt. The ones that were most useful to me as I wrote this mystery were:
Anton Gill, Ancient Egyptians: The Kingdom of the Pharaohs Brought to Life (London: HarperCollins, 2003)
Jaromir Malek, The Cat in Ancient Egypt (London: British Museum Press, 1993)
Garry J. Shaw, The Pharaoh: Life at Court and on Campaign (London: Thames & Hudson, 2012)
Steven Snape, The Complete Cities of Ancient Egypt (London: Thames & Hudson, 2014)
Neal Spencer, The Gayer-Anderson Cat (London: British Museum Press, 2007)
Here are some recommended books about ancient Egypt for young readers:
Crispin Boyer, Everything Ancient Egypt (Washington, D.C.: National Geographic Children’s Books, 2012)
George Hart, Ancient Egypt (New York: DK Eyewitness Books, 2014)
Dominique Navarro, Egypt’s Wildlife: Past and Present (Cairo: American University in Cairo Press, 2016)
Lesley Sims, Visitors’ Guide to Ancient Egypt (Tulsa, Oklahoma: EDC Publishing, 2001)
Marcia Williams, Ancient Egypt: Tales of Gods and Pharaohs (Somerville, Massachusetts: Candlewick, 2013)
I’m a lucky author to have Sarah Horne illustrating this book. Her work is the cat’s meow. Thank you, Sarah!
I’m grateful to my jewel of an editor, Sally Morgridge, and to all the wonderful people at Holiday House, especially Mary Cash, Terry Borzumato-Greenberg, Amy Toth, Mora Couch, and Kelly Loughman. Big thanks also go to my lovely agent, Sara Crowe, and to everyone at Pippin.
A tip of the whiskers and warmest thanks to the writers and organizers of Charney 2015, where I first had the idea for this book. Special thanks to Paula Harrison and Kit Sturtevant, two terrific writers who critiqued an early draft. I’m grateful to Rachel Ridout for checking the initial submission and to Sylvia Atalla for guidance on pronunciation. I’d also like to thank copyeditor Barbara Perris, who handled Ra with marvelous care.
This book wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for the British Museum, source of inspiration and delight.
Thanks, hugs, and cat-kisses to my two most dedicated readers: my daughter and my husband. You are my purr-fect family!
A. B. Greenfield, Ra the Mighty
