CHAPTER TEN Hopi gathered what was left of the herbs and placed them back in his bag. As he did so, he brushed his hand over his papyrus basket, and felt himself flush. What if these soldiers knew what he had inside? Hurriedly, he slung the bag over his shoulder. ‘Thank you, young priest,’ said an officer. ‘Tell me, how can we repay you?’ ‘Oh.’ Hopi hadn’t thought of that. It was usually Menna who dealt with such things. He thought for a moment, and remembered the young Libyan, terrified and tied to a stake in the centre of the pit. Perhaps he could do something for him. ‘You have a prisoner,’ he said. The officer smiled. ‘We have more than a hundred prisoners.’ ‘I mean, there’s one particular prisoner. He tried to escape and he was sent to the pit.’ The officer immediately looked suspicious. ‘How do you know about that?’ he demanded. He took a step towards Hopi. ‘Who told you about the pit?’ ‘No one.
