An Evil Spirit Out of the West (Ancient Egyptian Mysteries) by Paul Doherty Read Free Book Online

didn’t know what he meant but two days later I found out. Weni had a goose called ‘Semou’, sacred to Amun: a noisy aggressive bird always dropping dung and pecking the nearest piece of soft flesh. I never discovered the full story but the goose disappeared and, from the smug smile on Horemheb’s and Rameses’ faces, I gathered they were the culprits. The dwarf also, a miniature grotesque with his flowing beard and sunken features, looked remarkably happy. Weni was furious and naturally suspected the Horus unit.
    By now we had been joined by Sobeck, the son of a powerful merchant prince of Thebes who imported incense from Punt and cedar from Lebanon. ‘Sobeck the Sexual’ I called him; even as a youth he was always hungry for girls. He’d managed to weave his way into Horemheb’s affection and I suspected he was part of the coup against the goose. Nevertheless, we were all to blame. At midday, in the baking heat of the sun, Weni decided to hold court. Crown Prince Tuthmosis, as leader of the Kap, was present, dressed in a short tunic and holding an embroidered fan which bore the insignia of the Kap. He would act as Weni’s official witness. We were all stripped naked, the dwarf included. Weni rigorously inspected us, sniffing at our mouths and hands for any sign of grease or cooking but the ‘criminals’ as Weni called them were cunning; they had washed themselves thoroughly, though they had forgotten about the dwarf’s tousled hair and beard. Weni fell on him like a hungry vulture. He sniffed the little man’s hair and beard and slapped him harshly across the face.
    ‘Criminal! Thief! Murderer!’ Weni bellowed.
    He dragged the dwarf from the line, pushing him forward for Tuthmosis to inspect. The Crown Prince confirmed his judgement: the dwarf smelled of goose.
    ‘Give us the names of your accomplices,’ Weni demanded.
    The dwarf, trembling with fear, shook his head and made matters worse by urinating over Weni’s feet. The overseer grabbed him by the hair and dragged him across to a bench. He was forced to lie face down. Weni grasped a rod. Horemheb made to protest but Tuthmosis pushed him back in line. Weni turned threateningly. The dwarf’s wrists and ankles were seized by Weni’s assistants. The rod came back.
    ‘Master?’ I stepped forward.
    Weni paused and turned. ‘Yes, Mahu? Are you the culprit?’
    This was the one time I could tell the truth.
    ‘No, Master.’
    ‘Then why are you speaking?’
    I went down on my knees and knelt in the dust.
    ‘Master, the dwarf is innocent.’
    ‘What!’
    ‘I gave him the goose grease.’
    Weni forgot the dwarf and, striding over, dragged me to my feet.
    ‘I did not eat the goose,’ I stammered. ‘Nor did the dwarf. As you know, my Aunt Isithia distils potions and unguents. She gave me a pot of goose grease.’ I caressed my sidelock, the mark of my youth as well as membership of the Kap. ‘It is good for the hair.’ I gestured at the dwarf. ‘I gave some to him.’
    Weni stared narrow-eyed. ‘And where is this goose grease?’
    ‘In a pot in my chest.’
    Weni gestured with his head and one of his assistants hurried away to discover the truth. Aware of the others standing next to me, I closed my eyes. The dwarf was moaning. Tuthmosis was sucking on his lips as if to control his smirk. I just prayed that the pot of goose fat would be found, and whispered a prayer against ill luck: ‘Perish you who come in from the dark. You who creep in with your nose reversed and your face turned back.’
    ‘Master, he has told the truth.’
    I opened my eyes. Weni was holding the small pottery jar, sniffing at it suspiciously.
    ‘Did you use this?’ He pulled the dwarf up and made him stand on the bench. The dwarf looked quickly at me, nodded and muttered something Weni couldn’t understand.
    ‘He uses it on his hair and beard,’ Horemheb shouted. ‘It keeps away the flies.’
    Weni strode across and slapped Horemheb on the face. ‘Speak when you are