Another Days Work: Part 6

The Greeks

Just as we were about to break, Ptuto raised his hand.

Shiah saw this and nodded.

“Did he sign the letter?”

It was a great question. No one was legally allowed to print the Pharaoh’s name without him knowing about it.

Shiah hesitated for a moment. It was telling.

“I mean…. yes? Sure?”

This sent everyone into a state of disbelief. The workers were getting louder.

Shiah put an end to it. “Silence!! Hear me when I say this! Pharaoh himself handed me this copy AND said it was an EXACT copy of the one he gave his priest! When have I ever lied to you!?”

It was true. She’d always been very truthful and told us what was going on in the highest parts of the palace. Important given we would all most likely die in service to these pyramids. Or, as Ptomeses called them, “unnecessary gravesites for the rich.” I suspected he was sold off for a reason unlike myself. Maybe to avoid Pharaohs judgment? There were rumors.

“Should I just keep any further news to myself!?”

No one was able to answer. Disappointing Shaia was like disappointing the sky goddess Nut or worse, your mom. It was terrible.

“All right then! Let’s get to work!”

We went to Ptuto for our daily assignments. There was dissent in the air. I got the feeling some didn’t believe Shiah and maybe thought Ptuto’s question was agreed upon before the meeting. Actually, that second part was me. Best not to share that, I don’t even know why I thought it.

I blame the Greeks.

Nothing good happened whenever they were mentioned. My parents had once invited a merchant over for dinner.

He knew a man who knew a man who’d been to Memphis and had seen multiple pictures drawn on large pieces of papyrus of Greeks.

They were always laying down and eating grapes. They were fat too. No surprise there. If you’re just eating grapes all day.

What were grapes anyway? The man called them that, I just pictured whole cooked animals like rats. And laying down!?

Who lays down without sleeping?

Greeks.

I had no reason to believe these pictures weren’t true.

I almost bumped into the man ahead of me when he stopped.

I’m taller than most so I could see why he stopped.

One of Ptuto’s bodyguards drew a dagger and put his massive body in front of him. Ptuto held onto him trembling as they both looked at something in the sand.

Published by Cindy

For money, I’m what you call a banquet captain. That means I’m in charge of timing and staff at special events, weddings, benefits, movie premiere parties...ect. I’m also a filmmaker and freelance writer. I’m owned by two cats, Samantha and Harrison Chase who reluctantly allow me to travel, something I’m made to do.

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