As I go down the stairs, I step on something soft, a small bundle wrapped with strips of linen. It smells sweet and spicy. Food?
My claws quickly unravel the linen strips, and I examine my prize-
For the love of Bastet, mummified intestines!
As I go further down the stairs, I come across three more bundles and give them a wide berth.
The pharaoh's mummified head is lying on the last few steps. The rest of his mummy is scattered on the floor near the sarcophagus.
Not content with taking the jewelry that adorned the mummy, the tomb-robbers hacked it up to get to the amulets placed in the linen wraps.
Most of the bandages around the head have become undone, revealing a sunken mouth and two rows of brown teeth, and, worse, two glass eyes.
One is still in the eye socket where the embalmer put it, and the other, caught between the linen wraps, is resting on the mummy's cheek and staring at me.
I be-piss myself!
The stream of urine hits a stone, and the ricochet almost puts out an oil lamp. I watch the trickle run past the bottom half of the mummy to a gilded wooden chest with the lid torn off.
Even though they're badly damaged, I recognize the four carved female figures each hugging a corner of the chest-the goddesses Eset, Neb-hut, Neit, and Selket. The Protectors of the Dead.
Protectors of the Dead, my rump! They couldn't even protect their own effigies.
I explore further and prick my paw. I give it a soothing lick and look at what I've stepped on-a gold cat amulet!
I pick it up with my teeth and put it in my mouth. What if I were to take the amulet to the temple of Bastet in Bast?
I close my eyes and imagine my journey through the desert where I'm faced with all sorts of dangers. I imagine arriving at the temple gate, exhausted, perhaps close to death, and letting the amulet drop from my tired mouth to the feet of the priests.
"Look at the poor creature," I can almost hear them say. "The gods only know what he has been through to bring us this gift." I can almost taste the delicacies that the temple cooks, under orders from the priests, will prepare for me. I can almost feel the softness of the feather pillows put under my rump by a pretty maiden, to sooth my aching body-
My daydreams of pleasure are ended by a hard kick in the ass. I'm sent flying, and I land inside the sarcophagus, my head between my hind legs.
The Protectors of the Dead are finally on the job?
But there's nothing remotely divine or feminine about the angry bald man who's looking down at me and shaking a staff.
I spit the cat amulet at him, hitting him on the forehead.
"You accursed cat!" he shouts. "I'll have your life!"
He bends over the sarcophagus, grabs me by the scruff of the neck, and pulls me out.
He's wearing a long white skirt that reaches to his underarms and is held up by two thin shoulder straps.
So much exposed skin. I unsheathe my claws and try to scratch him.
He's so preoccupied with keeping me at arm's length he doesn't see another man approaching.
He's also bald and dressed in white. His semitransparent robe covers a skirt falling from his waist to his knees.
He wears a thick necklace made of strings of colored beads. Hanging from it is a gold medallion bearing the sacred insignia worn by the High Priest of Amun-Ra.
He's frowning, but the look in his eyes is benevolent.
"Caca-Mut," the High Priest says as he reaches his side.
Caca-Mut is so startled he drops me.
"Damn beast," he hisses.
I take cover behind the sarcophagus, sticking my head out to keep track of his movements.
I find him staring at me.
"Caca-Mut!"
Reluctantly, Caca-Mut turns his head to the High Priest, watching me out of the corner of his eye.
"I saw you leaving us," the High Priest says. "You looked upset, so I followed you."
"While you and the Pharaoh were busy discussing the progress being made on his tomb," Caca-Mut explains, "one of the cemetery guards informed me that his patrol had discovered this tomb was broken into. His captain had told him not to report it."
So one of the imbeciles ratted after all! I shiver to think what Caca-Mut will do to the captain.
"I came in to investigate, and that's when-"
He starts coughing, like someone choking on his own saliva.
The High Priest gives him a slap in the back-unfortunately, it works.
"That's when that creature assaulted me! For this affront against me, the Vizier," he says, shaking his fist in the air, "I want it killed!"
I'm not an "it." I'm a "he," and if prudence didn't dictate that I stay put behind the sarcophagus, I'd show him the proof.
"Caca-Mut," the High Priest interjects. "Perhaps it was an accident. Let us give the poor beast the benefit of the doubt . . ."
To my astonishment, I find myself suddenly getting up on my hind legs and walking erect out into the open.
I go over to the Vizier and hear myself say, "You kicked me! You threatened me with your staff! I fought back!"
"You walk and talk like a human being!" he says, incredulous. "I am speechless!"
"Speechless? I know how you feel. Till a moment ago I couldn't talk."
"You insolent freak! Quiet!"
"I thought you were speechless."
A burst of laughter resonates in the chamber. A tall young man descends the stairs. He's bare-chested, his short skirt held to his waist by a golden sash. He wears a headdress of striped cloth encircled by a gold band with a gold vulture head and a flaring gold cobra jutting from the front.
He's still laughing as he approaches the sarcophagus.
"For the love of all the gods," exclaims the High Priest, "you, you are laughing! You have not laughed since . . ."
"Well, my dear Gato-Hamen, I have never encountered a cat like him before," says the newcomer, who now stands in front of me.
I'm about to ask him his name when the Vizier yells, "Insolent cat! Kneel in the presence of Pharaoh Maat-Ba."
"Kneel?! For the first time in my life, I'm upright, and you want me to go back down on the ground?!"
"Kneel!" he commands again. When he sees I'm not moving, he steps behind me. Using his long staff, he pushes my head down into the ground, and my eyes meet the Pharaoh's feet.
"What big feet you have, Pharaoh," I say, just before the staff strikes my head.
