Free Sting of the Scorpion by Carole Wilkinson Page B

Hatshepsut is not in the palace.” Keneben’s voice softened when he spoke of the princess.
    “Where is she?”
    “She is at the women’s palace.”
    “Why isn’t she at father’s side?”
    “Queen Mutnofret found it too distressing to be near the pharaoh in his illness. She insisted that the princess go with her.”
    The women’s palace was an hour’s journey by boat south of Thebes. Ramose’s sadness was replaced by anger at the mention of the hated queen’s name.
    “I have to go to Hatshepsut,” he said, rushing to the door.
    “Wait, Highness,” said Keneben, holding out a hand to stop him. “I will send a message to her. She will return immediately.”
    “But the new pharaoh must be proclaimed tomorrow at dawn. I have to reveal myself.”
    “It is a long time till dawn. We have to keep you safe till then.”
    Ramose hesitated at the door.
    “Wait until Princess Hatshepsut returns. With her support you will be safe.”
    Ramose sighed.
    “You must go back to my mother’s house, Highness,” said Keneben. “Your friends are concerned about you.”
    The thought of seeing his friends again warmed Ramose’s chilled heart. He turned to his father’s body.
    “I don’t want to leave Father alone though. Will you stay with him until the priests return?”
    Keneben seemed reluctant to let his young master out of his sight, but eventually agreed to meet Ramose back at his mother’s house.
    Ramose walked cautiously through the corridors of the palace. He didn’t want to run into the priests or the vizier. The palace was massive, bigger than many of the towns he had passed through on his travels. He chose a different route to reach the servants’ quarters.
    First, he went through a side door in the pharaoh’s audience hall that led to a private courtyard. Then he walked down the narrow path that the gardeners used to reach the courtyard because they were not permitted to walk through the pharaoh’s quarters.
    He climbed over a low wall into an open area where the pharaoh’s horses were kept. Beyond the stables was the wing of the palace that used to be known as the princes’ palace. That was where his own room was and where his older brothers’ quarters had been before they died. It was also where the schoolroom was. As Ramose passed the familiar door, he couldn’t resist peering in.
    The schoolroom hadn’t changed at all. There were no bright wall paintings there, just plain, whitewashed walls. On one wall, some hieroglyphs had been hastily drawn in charcoal. Ramose recognised Keneben’s handwriting. He often used the walls to demonstrate the correct way to draw a particular hieroglyph. A papyrus was pinned to another wall. Ramose looked closer. It was the one about the benefits of being a scribe, Keneben’s favourite text. There were reed mats on the floor for students to sit on. The only furniture was the graceful chair where Hatshepsut sat. He was pleased to think that his sister had kept up her studies. He was sure that she would be a valuable adviser to him when he became pharaoh.
    Ramose was suddenly aware that he wasn’t the only one in the room. He spun round. A young boy was standing in the doorway with an elegant ebony palette and pen box under his arm. When the boy saw Ramose’s face, he dropped the palette and it shattered on the floor.
    “Ramose?” said the boy in a faltering voice. “Is that you, Ramose?”
    It was Tuthmosis, Ramose’s half-brother, the snivelling son of Queen Mutnofret.
    “Are you a ghost?” he said in a frightened voice.
    “No,” replied Ramose coldly. “I’m real.”
    The boy rushed towards Ramose who stood ready to defend himself. But the boy didn’t attack him, instead he flung his arms around Ramose’s neck.
    “You’re still alive!” Tuthmosis said. “I can’t believe it.”
    “That’s right.” Ramose pulled the boy away. He was surprised to see a smile on his face. “That’s the end of your scheme.”
    “What scheme?” The boy’s