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
Chapter 2. Peril at the Pyramid
Chapter 4. Peril at the Pyramid
Chapter 6. Beard Wigs and Earwigs
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 Nephoris’s 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.
“It’s Akhet,” she told him.
The little boy’s 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 it’s 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 weren’t 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.
She’d done it ever since she was as young as Pere. But not at Akhet.
“When Akhet comes we can’t 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 can’t 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.
