CHAPTER FIVE ‘Hurry up, Hopi. You can walk faster than that.’ Nefert’s voice was sharp, and Hopi bristled. It wasn’t his fault that he had a limp. Isis shot him a nervous, sympathetic smile. ‘We’re almost there,’ she whispered, and pointed out the large, imposing gateway that led to Abana’s mansion. Nefert knocked, and a guard opened the gate just a crack, holding an oil lamp. ‘Who are you?’ he demanded. ‘We’re Abana’s performers,’ responded Nefert. ‘He’s expecting us.’ The guard peered at them, moving his lamp around to give them a good once-over. ‘I was told one girl was coming,’ he said. ‘No one else has been authorised.’ ‘Oh, but that’s absurd!’ exclaimed Nefert. ‘She’s young. I can’t possibly allow her in alone. Besides, she needs some music. I play the lute.’ And she showed her instrument, which was slung over her shoulder. The guard looked dubious.
