"Oh, that beginning! Well, we were leaving the Cairo museum for our hotel, and we needed to hire some donkeys..." I told him of hiring Gadji as a donkey boy (although not about Sefu's masquerading as his hump and eliciting sympathy from me) and his following us to Luxor and my subsequent hiring of him. When I had finished, they all looked faintly shocked that I had hired their pharaoh to muck out our stable.
"Sir, I'm very sorry," I rushed to add. "But at no time did Gadji mention anything about being a pharaoh. He didn't even know himself, until your men told us. He never balked at performing his duties nor suggested they were beneath him. The first I—we—learned of this was at the Luxor Temple when one of your men called him a pharaoh. I meant no disrespect. I was only trying to help out someone who needed food and shelter."
The mudir said nothing, and his gaze hardened as he turned to Major Grindle. "And you, where do you come into all this?"
Standing at full attention as if being inspected by the king, Major Grindle explained how he had first learned of Gadji's existence when the boy had shown up on his doorstep, begging the major to come help the effendi miss because Gadji was afraid she would get herself in trouble. He finished with me showing up on his doorstep, asking for help in getting Gadji back from the Serpents of Chaos.
"And why did you not come to us?" asked one of the seated men.
Major Grindle looked at him blandly. "I did not know of your existence until four days ago, let alone how to get hold of you in the four hours we had to respond to the demands. It seemed best for the boy that we move as quickly as possible to secure his release."
Fenuku leaned forward. "And how do you come to know such powerful magic, to create a tablet such as the one that fooled those men?"
"Years of study," was his clipped response.
Fenuku opened his mouth to say something else—something unpleasant, by the look on his face—so I cleared my throat.
The mudir turned his attention from Grindle to me. "You may speak," he said.
"Sir, if you don't mind my asking, even if Gadji didn't go with your men that night, why didn't they put a guard on him as soon as they recognized him? I mean, with him being so valuable and all."
Fenuku looked as if he wanted to cut out my tongue for my impudence.
The mudir turned narrowed eyes to Khalfani. Oh dear. I hadn't meant to get anyone else in trouble, merely sought to shift the blame from us. But honestly, what had they been thinking? I'm just a child and I knew he should have been watched from the moment they first caught sight of him again. If they had, then the Serpents of Chaos would not have been able to nab him in the first place.
Khalfani shifted slightly in his chair. "We did, indeed, post guards, mudir, but they were attacked. We found them later, bound and gagged."
"I understand, sir," I said sympathetically. "The Serpents of Chaos have caught me off-guard a number of times."
"Yes, but how did you come to lose the boy in the first place?" Major Grindle asked. "If he was important to you, there should have been more than one old tutor to watch over him."
Fenuku's face flushed a dark, ugly red. "You know nothing about which you speak."
"But if you are going to judge us for not watching him more closely," I said, "it is only fair that we understand how you came to lose him in the first place."
The sem priest looked apoplectic, but the mudir inclined his head. "It is a fair question. And their knowing will not harm the Son of Re in any way.
"When our last native pharaoh, Nectanebo II, was driven from his rightful throne," the mudir began, "he took up refuge in the land of Macedonia. In hiding there, he realized his chances for reclaiming his birthright were meager. His only hope to reclaim the throne lay in any future heirs he might have. He could not risk having the blood of the pharaohs die with him, so he went forth and sired as many children as he could."
"Including Alexander the Great?" I asked. I had not quite believed Awi Bubu when he had first made that claim.
The mudir's eyes sharpened. "Yes, even so. But he was only one of many sons fathered by Nectanebo. The responsibility was given to us, the Eyes of Horus, to watch over these sons, these children in whom the last drops of pharaonic blood flowed. We were to keep them safe, help raise them in the old ways, teach them of their heritage.
"But there were many of these children, in seven different bloodlines, and then these children had children, and so on. At one time there were nearly two score separate descendants of Nectanebo and we looked after them all.
"But one can have only one pharaoh at a time. What to do with all these extras that would not incite feuds and infighting? And when one's country grows poor and weak, overrun by foreign overlords who would use it for their own purposes, of what good is it to be a pharaoh?
"So most of these children lived in obscurity, closely guarded, taught by learned men who ensured they had the knowledge necessary to be pharaoh should the need arise, but never knowing their own true identity until the line of succession indicated they would be needed. This system worked well for us for hundreds and hundreds of years."
"Like a ruddy bank account," I heard Major Grindle mumble under his breath. "Then you could collect them at your whim."
"We lost many during the Turkish occupation of our land, for they were harsh masters. We lost more when Napoleon came to our shores. At the turn of this century, we had eleven descendants of Nectanebo. But the past few years have been hard on our people. When Gadji was born, he was one of only five left, and last in the line of succession.
"Soon there were two in line before him, but when they died of a wasting sickness, he was the only one left. But before we could summon him here to take his place at Qerert Ihy, disaster struck and the boy's tutor came to us, shamefaced with the tale of having lost the boy."
I was incensed that Gadji had been valued so poorly until the others were dead. "So you didn't appreciate him while you had him," I said.
"It is more that his value increased while we were focused elsewhere."
"And what of his sister, Safiya?" I asked. "Doesn't she have the same royal blood?"
"Women cannot serve as pharaoh," Fenuku said curtly.
The mudir held up his hand, and we all fell silent.
"Have you launched a rescue party yet?" Major Grindle asked, drawing all eyes back to him.
The mudir and Khalfani exchanged glances, and then Khalfani spoke. "We left half our men behind to see if they could find traces of the boy. When we first arrived here at Qerert Ihy, we sent a second wave of scouts to see if they could find where those men had gone. As soon as they report back, we will launch a full assault and rescue our pharaoh." When he stopped speaking, he brusquely clapped his hands. We were dismissed.
Safiya appeared and escorted us back to our tent. Neither Grindle nor I spoke until Gadji's sister left us. "I can't believe they are trying to hold us responsible for Gadji's kidnapping!" I exploded.
"It is always easier to blame others rather than oneself," Major Grindle said. "Especially when they have made so many mistakes along the way." He began pacing, and at first I thought he was agitated, as I was. But after a moment, I realized he was practically quivering with excitement.
"What is it?" I asked. "Why are you so wound up?"
His face brightened, as if by mentioning it I had given him permission to speak. "Did you see those men?" he asked, his face glowing.
"I saw twelve men," I said dryly. "Which ones do you mean?"
He glanced around the tent, as if checking to be certain no one had slipped in while he hadn't been watching. "At least six of those men in that tent were Weret Hekau."