Each limb received at his hand the anointing that rendered it incorruptible and the magical charms and incantations that should sustain the spark of life.
This done, Kathi placed a heavy amulet in the cavity whence he had extracted the heart, a great emerald beetle, inscribed beneath with a prayer for justification and absolution addressed to the Judge of the Dead, Osiris.
It did not enter Kathi’s head that he was trying to dupe Osiris by thus inserting a heavy stone heart in place of the real organ. Kathi merely wished to be sure that the heart would tip the scales against the great God’s “Feather of Truth,” when the deceased was led into the Hall of the Underworld for Judgment.
Having placed the emerald heart in position, the Embalmer set a long oval plaque of gold immediately above it, drew together the clean-cut flesh and sewed up the wound.
A small iron amulet, the Two Fingers of Horus, he placed in the hand, and the delicate jewels of the deceased, chains of minute carnelian emerald, garnet and amethyst pendants, he strung about the throat. Low upon the breast he placed a beaded _wesekh_, a broad jeweled pectoral ornament which, more than a thousand years before his time, King Kufu had called _the national ornament_ of his people. Upon the head he set one of the huge pleated wigs of the day, confining it with a diadem of gold decorated at intervals with gold lotus flowers in high relief. Gold earrings of rosette form were set in the ears, broad jeweled bands slipped upon the arms, wrists and ankles, and Kathi, the Embalmer, commenced to wrap the body in the first few score feet of aromatic linen bandages.
The Embalmer rested a moment, hand on hip. Humming absently to himself he turned to trim the spluttering lamp. It was an occupation which consumed altogether too much of his time.
Kathi’s back being turned for a moment, he failed to see the bent figure of Enana, the Magician, who glided into the dimly lit room.
At his repressed but high-pitched voice, Kathi, son of Kathi, swung about, startled for an instant out of his wonted calm and immobility. He turned to close the door before replying. “As thou sayest, Holiness, I have succeeded. ’Tis but a few short minutes since Thi and Menna stood where thou standest at this very moment. The Syrian shed real tears above the body of that poor wench there. To her ’twas Hanit, doubt not.” Kathi smiled somewhat sadly as he gazed down upon the figure at his feet: “In death the Lady Meryt’s striking resemblance to Hanit, our beloved Queen, was most pronounced. And, following my work upon the head, the Lady Meryt’s own mother could hardly have chosen between them.