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onions they could, they laid out their reed mats on the sandy shore beneath a grove of date palms.
    “It’s good to be away from that awful town,” said Karoya looking up at the stars through the palm fronds.
    “Maybe our luck’s changed,” said Hapu.
    Ramose listened to the stillness of the night and hoped he was right.

    Their new friend was called Hori. He was travelling with two other men. One was a big man called Intef, who seemed to have an excess of muscles, but a shortage of brains. The other was called Seth. He had a mean mouth and a scar on his neck as if someone had unsuccessfully tried to chop off his head.
    “We’re going to Memphis to join the navy,” Hori told them over breakfast. “The captain is my sister’s husband’s brother.”
    Ramose couldn’t help wondering if a man who was cross-eyed would make a good soldier, but he kept his thoughts to himself.
    “We’re joining a unit that is going to sail over the Great Green to conquer the eastern lands.”
    Karoya was horrified at the thought of sailing on the sea.
    “I’ve heard that sometimes the boat goes so far out to sea that you can’t see the shore.” Karoya’s eyes were wide. “That can’t be true, can it?” she asked.
    “It’s true,” said Hori. “And sometimes the waves rise up to the height of three men.”
    “Why are you going to do this?” said Karoya. “Why don’t you stay on land where it’s safe?”
    “We were working in the alabaster quarries in the south. It’s hard work. I heard that Pharaoh, may he have long life and health, was recruiting for the navy. My friends and I thought we’d give it a try.”
    Ramose couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there was something he didn’t like about Hori and his friends. Perhaps it was the way one of Hori’s eyes always seemed to be on him.

    They made good progress. “At this rate we’ll be in Memphis in two days,” said Hapu the next day.
    Hapu had been in a very cheerful mood ever since they’d come on board. He chatted happily to Hori, telling them all about the work on Pharaoh’s tomb.
    “It’s supposed to be a secret, Hapu,” said Ramose wishing his friend was grumpy and silent again, instead of happy and talkative.
    “I haven’t said where the tomb is,” said Hapu. “And anyway it’s destroyed now.”
    Ramose was starting to get nervous about arriving in Memphis. He had begun to think that he would never regain his place as heir to Egypt’s throne, never see his father, never become pharaoh. Suddenly, in two days, he would be able to contact his sister again and see his sick father.
    Now that the wait was over, the thought of arriving in Memphis quite scared him. His plan for actually getting inside the palace there was rather vague. He decided that the best thing to do was to find his sister first, but how he would get to her without the vizier knowing he hadn’t yet worked out.
    Hori came and sat beside him.
    “You are a scribe, I see,” said Hori looking with one eye at the palette and pen box in Ramose’s bag.
    “An apprentice scribe,” said Ramose.
    “That’s a nice set of scribal tools,” said Hori.
    “I inherited it from my previous master, who died in the flood,” lied Ramose closing his bag. He was conscious that the ebony palette inlaid with gold, ivory and turquoise was far too rich for an apprentice scribe to own.
    “Tell me what you make of this,” Hori said pulling a very old-looking piece of papyrus from his own bag.
    Ramose noticed that it had a royal seal, though the blob of wax was cracking with age. He unrolled the papyrus and read the flowing script.
    “It’s instructions,” he said.
    “Instructions on how to get inside a pyramid?” asked Intef.
    Seth thumped him in the chest to silence him.
    “No,” replied Ramose. “Instructions on how to lead a good life and attain knowledge. I’ve read many texts like this. My tutor made me copy them out endlessly.”
    He turned over the scroll. “There is mention