Chapter 13: The Veil of Isis

Angela was sitting at her desk. She had taken off the ring and it sat back, in its box, on her desk. She was more than a little shocked by what she had done and not entirely certain of whether or not it had really had the effect she had hoped. She took comfort from the fact that the shabtis on her desk appeared to be regarding her with a benign expression. Perhaps all would be well.

She repacked the shabtis from the tomb of Nofret in their box. The cool of their faience coating contrasted with the heat that seemed to have emanated from the ring.

She tried to distract herself from the questions asked by the events in the conference room. She went back to cataloguing the shabti inscriptions, trying to see if she could learn anything from the changes in different inscription types over time. Some carried little more than the name of the deceased and that of Osiris, other might carry an entire statement of offering; commending the deceased to Osiris with offerings of bread and beer. She felt perhaps she was retreating from her actions into the comfort of the work she knew well but she felt unable to confront the implications of the power of the ring, if that was indeed what it was.

She told herself that she could control it; that she could choose when to take advantage of its power. She said to herself that it was ridiculous to imagine that is was anything other than an attractive gold Egyptian ring from around the time of Cleopatra.

Dr. Barbara Hollis came in. Angela looked up. She felt embarrassed by how she had behaved in governor’s meeting and she felt worse because Barbara had evidently been completely unaffected. Barbara seemed completely unconcerned, however. “You’ll be pleased to hear that the Trustees decided to change their mind regarding the shabtis.”

Angela was pleased and more than a little surprised that the effect had been so immediate.

“And, is that the ring that we can thank for convincing them?” she said.

“Err, yes. I guess so. I don’t really understand what is going on with it.”

Barbara smiled. She picked up the ring and turned it over in her hand, peering at the inscription. “That’s the thing with magic – or science for that matter – you don’t need to understand for it to work. It’s hard to know which cultures were more obsessed with it, the Egyptians or those further north in the Levant. In any respect it was central to all those societies. Maybe there was something in it. Or maybe it was all a coincidence.”

“I seem to be experiencing a lot of coincidences at the moment.”

“Well, I would recommend ignoring them unless they are to your disadvantage.” Barbara smiled and put her battered leather satchel on the desk. “Still that wasn’t really why I wanted to see you.” Barbara opened case and pulled out a sheath of notes. “I came across something that might be relevant to your research. How is your Greek?”

“Not as good as my hieroglyphic.”

“Well, let me summarise it. This is the transcription of a papyrus. Part of the Oxyrhncus collection. It’s fragmentary – so many of them are – but it seems to be a court record; mid-first Century BCE from context. I came across it because it relates to a prince, Ba’al Haddu. He was from Peleset, what we now call Palestine. He’s very much in my patch but we don’t know much about him; that’s why I noticed this. It seems that a woman outside the court was accused of using magic against this prince to enslave him.”

Angela furrowed her brow, disturbed by the implications of the papyrus. “Surely its not an uncommon claim from someone that finds themselves in a relationship that might not be approved of by others,” she said hoping to find a more rational explanation.