get to the palace wharf quickly. He knew every palm-width of the palace better than any servant did because he had access to all the royal apartments. He knew the palace better than any official because as a child he’d wandered through the servants’ quarters and the kitchens. There was no one who knew the palace better than Ramose.
He ran through back corridors to the kitchens where he stole a sharp cutting stone. He crossed forgotten courtyards, scurried across roofs and reached the palace wharf before the guards and their prisoners. A boat was being prepared for sailing. Ramose managed to slip aboard while the boatman was attending to the sail. He hid at the stern beneath one of the rowers’ benches.
It wasn’t long before the guards arrived with their prisoners, swearing at them and pushing them to make them hurry. They seemed to take particular pleasure in pushing and prodding Karoya. Ramose wanted to jump out and attack the guards, but he knew that wouldn’t help. He had to work out a way to get Karoya free, but not end up tied to the chain of prisoners himself.
The captives were pushed on board and the guards undid the cords binding their wrists. The prisoners were to row themselves to whatever punishment awaited them. One guard stayed on board. The other returned to the riverbank and gave the order to cast off. The boatman untied the boat and took his position at the rudder. The guard gave another order and the prisoners began to row. Karoya was sitting on the last bench. Ramose touched her foot. She jumped up with a squeal.
“Sit down, slave girl,” shouted the boatman. “You’ll do your share of the rowing or I’ll toss you over the side.”
Karoya looked at Ramose with eyes like a rabbit about to have its neck broken. He gave her what he hoped was an encouraging signal, though he didn’t really have any idea what he was going to do.
Once they had drawn clear of Thebes, the guard sat down and pulled some bread and figs from a bag at his feet. Ramose leapt out. The boatman cried out in surprise and let go of the rudder. Ramose gave him a hefty push and the boatman pitched into the river.
The guard, with his mouth full of bread and a fig in each hand, moved clumsily to unsheathe his dagger. Ramose was quicker. He grasped the handle of the dagger and pulled it out. The guard made a grab for him and Ramose swung the dagger, cutting deep into the guard’s fleshy arm. As the guard cried out and grabbed his arm, Ramose elbowed him in the stomach as hard as he could. The guard tumbled into the fast-flowing waters with an enormous splash.
The prisoners were all staring in astonishment, their oars hanging motionless. The boatman was trying to clamber back over the side. The guard surfaced, spluttering and swearing, and started to splash back towards the boat.
“Row!” shouted Ramose, stamping on the boatman’s fingers so that he let go and fell back into the river. “Row!”
The startled prisoners rowed for all they were worth. When they were clear of the struggling guard and boatman, Ramose made them row to the shore. He cut Karoya free and handed the blade to the nearest captive. He and Karoya jumped ashore and the prisoners rowed off. Ramose hoped they found freedom.
“We have to get back to the palace,” Ramose told Karoya. “The coronation is taking place.”
Karoya didn’t understand what he meant.
“Pharaoh has died. They’re crowning my half-brother this morning—now.”
Ramose turned to run back to the palace and found himself face to face with the vizier.
10
FRIENDS AND ENEMIES
Vizier Wersu had his ceremonial sceptre in his hand. He raised it above his head ready to use it as a weapon. Ramose remembered the vision in the desert—the vizier hitting him with the Seth statue. Behind him Karoya screamed. The guard that they had pushed overboard had crawled ashore and grabbed her by the ankle. The vizier suddenly rushed forward. He moved fast, like a crocodile striking. The sceptre
He ran through back corridors to the kitchens where he stole a sharp cutting stone. He crossed forgotten courtyards, scurried across roofs and reached the palace wharf before the guards and their prisoners. A boat was being prepared for sailing. Ramose managed to slip aboard while the boatman was attending to the sail. He hid at the stern beneath one of the rowers’ benches.
It wasn’t long before the guards arrived with their prisoners, swearing at them and pushing them to make them hurry. They seemed to take particular pleasure in pushing and prodding Karoya. Ramose wanted to jump out and attack the guards, but he knew that wouldn’t help. He had to work out a way to get Karoya free, but not end up tied to the chain of prisoners himself.
The captives were pushed on board and the guards undid the cords binding their wrists. The prisoners were to row themselves to whatever punishment awaited them. One guard stayed on board. The other returned to the riverbank and gave the order to cast off. The boatman untied the boat and took his position at the rudder. The guard gave another order and the prisoners began to row. Karoya was sitting on the last bench. Ramose touched her foot. She jumped up with a squeal.
“Sit down, slave girl,” shouted the boatman. “You’ll do your share of the rowing or I’ll toss you over the side.”
Karoya looked at Ramose with eyes like a rabbit about to have its neck broken. He gave her what he hoped was an encouraging signal, though he didn’t really have any idea what he was going to do.
Once they had drawn clear of Thebes, the guard sat down and pulled some bread and figs from a bag at his feet. Ramose leapt out. The boatman cried out in surprise and let go of the rudder. Ramose gave him a hefty push and the boatman pitched into the river.
The guard, with his mouth full of bread and a fig in each hand, moved clumsily to unsheathe his dagger. Ramose was quicker. He grasped the handle of the dagger and pulled it out. The guard made a grab for him and Ramose swung the dagger, cutting deep into the guard’s fleshy arm. As the guard cried out and grabbed his arm, Ramose elbowed him in the stomach as hard as he could. The guard tumbled into the fast-flowing waters with an enormous splash.
The prisoners were all staring in astonishment, their oars hanging motionless. The boatman was trying to clamber back over the side. The guard surfaced, spluttering and swearing, and started to splash back towards the boat.
“Row!” shouted Ramose, stamping on the boatman’s fingers so that he let go and fell back into the river. “Row!”
The startled prisoners rowed for all they were worth. When they were clear of the struggling guard and boatman, Ramose made them row to the shore. He cut Karoya free and handed the blade to the nearest captive. He and Karoya jumped ashore and the prisoners rowed off. Ramose hoped they found freedom.
“We have to get back to the palace,” Ramose told Karoya. “The coronation is taking place.”
Karoya didn’t understand what he meant.
“Pharaoh has died. They’re crowning my half-brother this morning—now.”
Ramose turned to run back to the palace and found himself face to face with the vizier.
10
FRIENDS AND ENEMIES
Vizier Wersu had his ceremonial sceptre in his hand. He raised it above his head ready to use it as a weapon. Ramose remembered the vision in the desert—the vizier hitting him with the Seth statue. Behind him Karoya screamed. The guard that they had pushed overboard had crawled ashore and grabbed her by the ankle. The vizier suddenly rushed forward. He moved fast, like a crocodile striking. The sceptre
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