Deary Terry - The Plot on the Pyramid

THE PLOT ON
THE PYRAMID

Illustrated by Helen Flook

A&C Black London

Reprinted 2009
First published 2004 by
A & C Black Publishers Ltd
36 Soho Square, London W1D 3QY
www.acblack.com

Text copyright 2004 Terry Deary
Illustrations copyright 2004 Helen Flook

The rights of Terry Deary and Helen Flook to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work respectively have been asserted by them in accordance with the Copyrights, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

eISBN 978-1-40811-577-0

A CIP catalogue for this book is available from the British Library.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means graphic, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or information storage and retrieval systems without the prior permission in writing of the publishers.

This book is produced using paper made from wood grown in managed, sustainable forests. It is natural, renewable and recyclable. The logging and manufacturing processes conform to the environmental regulations of the country of origin.

Printed and bound in Great Britain
by CPI Cox & Wyman, Reading, RG1 8EX.

Table of Contents

Nephoris sat by the edge of the mud-brown river and threw a stone into it. She was a tall girl and made her little brother Pere look tiny..

A light wind kept her cool and the rustling reeds seemed the only sound in the world. Perfect, she said.

Of course that was before her mother called her home.

River, Pere said. He picked up a stone and tried to copy Nephoriss throwing. But he forgot to let go and threw himself into the dirty water.

Nephoris shook her head, paddled into the cool water and pulled him out.

Its Akhet, she told him.

The little boys round face crinkled into a frown. No Akhet. River.

She sat beside him and watched the graceful ibis birds land and stalk through the shallows, looking for food.

I mean its the time of the year Akhet. The time when the river rises. It floods our fields and makes the corn grow. Akhet brings us food.

Food, Pere repeated. Pere liked food.

Nephoris smiled. There werent many restful days like this. Days when she could sit in the sun and play with Pere.

She had to weed the fields ...

... fetch water ...

... grind corn or bake bread.

Shed done it ever since she was as young as Pere. But not at Akhet.

When Akhet comes we cant work in the fields. So we get days like today. Peaceful days, she sighed.

Of course that was before her mother called her home. In the years to come Nephoris would never think of Akhet as the peaceful time again.

Pere took a fistful of mud and made it into a little pile. Pyramid, he said.

Nephoris nodded. Yes, Daddy is working on the pyramid for the King. Most of the men of Lisht are helping to build it because they cant work in the fields at Akhet. Poor Dad. We have idle days and he works harder than ever.

Pere made his chubby hand into a fist and smashed it down on top of his mud pile. Pyramid! he giggled.

Poor pyramid, Nephoris said. King Amenemhat is our god, you know. He makes the river flood the fields and makes the corn grow. Thats why we are building Amenemhat a huge pyramid. Build Amenemhat another pyramid, she said.

As Pere piled up the mud, a ripple from the river washed it away. The river was rising fast now. Amenemhat was doing his magic.

Pere frowned at the river and his ruined pyramid. Naughty! he said and slapped the water. It splashed up and soaked his angry face. Nephoris laughed. Life was good.

Then her mother called her home.

Her shrill voice carried over the quiet fields. Da-fi-aaaa!

Mama! Pere said and struggled to his feet. He had sharp ears and heard her first. Nephoris quickly washed his muddy legs and hands, scooped him up and ran along the dusty path towards their small mud house.

At the Pyramid of Lisht their father, Yenini was getting more and more angry

Yeninis face was red. Red with the heat of the midday sun. Red with the strain of pulling a pyramid block almost to the top of Amenemhats pyramid. But, most of all, red with rage. Rage at the fat little bully, Antef.

Thirty men from Lisht made up a team of workers the Boat Gang, they called themselves. They were proud of being the best of the hundred gangs that worked on the pyramid.

But the Pharaoh had put Antef in charge Antef with his perfumed wig and beard-wig, pot belly and wicked tongue.

The Boat Gang were free men. They worked for the love of King Amenemhat. Antef treated them like slaves like the prisoners of war who were forced to work and beaten.

The day had started badly. Their massive stone, big as a house, had slipped off the barge that carried it over the Nile. They had to fasten ropes around it and drag it through the mud and onto the shore.

Yenini was a little worried that they would not get it up the pyramid before sunset. He didnt like the Boat Gang to fail. They never had before.