The Divine Light: Prelude to the Giza Trilogy

A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

The reader will find this book a vastly different reading experience from the three fictional Giza Trilogy books as well as their supplement, Eternal Egypt. The Divine Light is an historical novel examining the pyramid age in its very beginnings, attempting to help answer the important question of why? Why did the Ancient Egyptians change from constructing modest tombs known as mastabas for their pharaohs to something far more complex and far more spectacular? What was their reason or reasons in doing this? And why did they choose a pyramid design for their House of Eternity, a design not only challenging their way of thinking, but also their engineering capabilities? Was there a religious significance for doing this or was it simply the vanity of the pharaohs, already god-kings into becoming something far greater? The Divine Light examines some of these questions and tries to provide possible answers...

Though The Divine Light, which covers the period from 2651 — 2586 B.C. is a prelude to the Giza Trilogy books, like all the books in the Trilogy it can stand alone. The Divine Light can be read either before the other three books or after, (as an epilogue). It should be noted that the Royal Architect, Quom who is the main character in the book is a fictional character. We know very little of this period in history, with the exception of the magnificent monuments that still exist today.

Writing the Giza Trilogy, along with its prelude and supplement was in itself a monumental effort. I enjoyed greatly my time spent in the 4th Dynasty, watching this wonderful civilization develop before my very eyes (and fingertips). Often, I could not type fast enough on the keyboard of my PC, with events spiraling all round me at a furious pace. This is because of the monumental events that were crammed into the 4th Dynasty, the Age of the Pyramid Builders, which covered only a short period from 2613 — 2504 B.C. And yet, this 109 years has left behind a legacy, one which will last forever!

MAIN AND SUPPORTING CHARACTERS

AHMES - High priest of Horus, the hawk god who protects and watches over the pharaohs.

DEN - Senior priest of Horus who succeeds Ahmes.

DJOSER* - Pharaoh who built the step pyramid at Saqqara, believed to be the oldest monumental building made of stone. Djoser ruled from 2668 B.C. to 2649 B.C.

HUNI* - Pharaoh who preceded Pharaoh Snefru. Huni reigned from 2637 B.C. to 2613 B.C. He was the last pharaoh of the 3rd Dynasty.

KHUFU* - Pharaoh who built the first and largest pyramid on the Giza Plateau. Khufu was the son of Pharaoh Snefru and reigned from 2589 B.C. to 2566 B.C.

MENKAH - Royal Scribe to Pharaoh Snefru and to the Co-Regent Pharaoh Khufu.

MENTUHOTEP - Royal Architect to Pharaoh Huni.

PHENDU - A scribe who is the nephew of Wadhjeke and grandson of Quom.

QUOM - Royal Architect to Pharaoh Snefru.

SHESHI - Daughter of Mentuhotep and second wife of Quom.

SNEFRU* - Pharaoh who built the first true pyramid at Dahshur, the Red or Shining Pyramid. Snefru reigned from 2613 B.C. to 2589 B.C. and was the first pharaoh of the 4th Dynasty.

TUYA - First wife of Quom.

WADHJEKE - Priest of the mortuary temple of the deceased Quom. He, along with his twin brother, Wathe are the step sons of Quom and the children of Sheshi (from a previous marriage). Wadhjeke also acts as Assistant to Quom when he is Royal Architect.

* Denotes non-fictional character.

TWO GODS – HORUS and RA

The Divine Light is the story of an idea as well as the conception of the pyramid design and symbol. It is also the story of two gods, both of them inspired by birds, for a bird knows no limits and can soar high up into the sky, giving it a boundless freedom. Many of the other Ancient Egyptian gods were also inspired by animals such as crocodiles, ibis, lions, and even cows. Few, however, were considered as powerful as Horus, the hawk god or Ra, the falcon god.

HORUS. Horus was always considered the protector of the pharaohs and these pharaohs carried the royal title: Son of Horus. Horus in turn was the son of Osiris, God of Death and Resurrection, carrying out revenge for his father’s death at the hands of Seth, God of Chaos. He was also the protector of Pharaoh in the mortal life. The all-seeing Eye of Horus was the symbol of this protection, protecting Pharaoh from any evil in the After Life.

RA. The Sun God had the body of a man but the head of a falcon. He wore a sun orb headdress. Ra rose to importance during the pyramid age and his name was also later incorporated into the official title of Pharaoh: Son of Ra. At the end of each day when night came, Ra would sail the solar boat through the Nether or (Under World), emerging each day to sail it across the sky. If Ra did not make his morning appearance, then there would be no light (sun) and only darkness would rule the day.

The light touches my eyes.

I can see!

I am inspired!

from the tomb of Quom,

Royal Architect to Pharaoh Snefru.

1. THE ANGRY PRIEST

2588 B.C., Year 2 of Pharaoh Khufu.

The messenger appeared in the middle of the night. Wadhjeke was sitting alone in the small mortuary temple at the base of the mud-brick pyramid of Quom, Royal Architect to Pharaoh Snefru, quietly offering up prayers to its occupant. They are coming! the messenger suddenly called to him from the entrance to the temple standing in front of the pyramid. They are coming from the direction of the river. They will be here within the hour. The messenger, his work done, then quickly disappeared into the darkness of the night. It would be far too dangerous to linger in the shadows of the pyramid and its temple.

Wadhjeke, the priest made his way to the open wooden gate. The pyramid was protected by a small mud-brick wall but it would be useless to lock the gate. He now quickly turned his attention to the east in the direction of the river, hidden completely by the darkness of the night. A line of light illuminated this desert — a line of light Wadhjeke had been expecting. He had, however, hoped for more time to complete his work within the pyramid. Now, there was no more time.

Where can he be? the priest whispered quietly to himself. He had earlier sent the messenger the day before to summon Wadhjeke’s nephew, Phendu, but the messenger had returned alone to the pyramid saying only that Phendu was on his way. The messenger had then been despatched to watch the river. Wadhjeke returned to his prayers inside the mortuary temple. A short time later, he heard the noise of hurried movement outside.

We came from the river and arrived there the same time as the others, said Phendu gasping for breath. Two men stood beside him. The boat trip was a slow one.

Did the others see you? enquired the fearful priest.

We landed in the darkness slightly to the south. I am sure they did not see us. There are only ten of them. I sent the messenger ahead to alert you of their arrival. There was a slight pause. "We can fight them. We can stop them." Wadhjeke did not reply to the foolish words but instead, turned toward the desert and the approaching light from several torches. These others were not too far away and would soon be arriving at the temple.

I do not think so, Wadhjeke finally replied. If we stop these ten vagabonds, then another twenty, perhaps thirty or more will return. They are determined to do their job. I do not want any blood spilled. I am sure Quom would have wished for this too. Wadhjeke was standing at the entrance to the temple. Beside him was a large and very decorative wooden box, skillfully adorned with beautifully painted images of the gods. Without further word, the priest motioned to the box. The two men accompanying his nephew quickly struggled to picked it up.

It is the only thing of value in the pyramid, Wadhjeke told them.

What of the mummy of Quom? Phendu enquired.

We cannot save his mortal remains, replied Wadhjeke, glancing at the box protected by its painted gods. "Nonetheless, we can save his soul, his ka. The box contains the written life of Quom. The gods will read these scrolls and I am sure they will then allow him to stand beside them in the After Life. I am convinced of this." Without further word, the four men quietly made their way from the pyramid and its temple, out into the safety of the desert and its darkness. Beyond and in the direction of the river, the line of torches was fast approaching.



The ten men cautiously examined the open gate leading into the temple courtyard. One of them was dressed in the clothes of a senior priest, with the leopard skin draped over his shoulders and wearing a white kilt decorated with gold thread, his wrist and ankles adorned in silver and gold, whilst on his feet he wore leather sandals. The others were dressed only in short and dirty kilts, their feet bare and wearing not even the simplest of copper jewellery. They were obviously vagabonds employed from a nearby town by the priest, employed to do the work intended of them in the now empty temple and its nearby mud-brick pyramid.

Do your work quickly, ordered the priest whose name was Den. "We must be gone from here before daylight. You can take whatever you wish. I want only the wooden box decorated with the images of the gods — everything else is yours."

What if we are stopped? asked one of the robbers.

There is only one who will try to stop you. He is the priest of the mortuary temple. The name of this priest is Wadhjeke. The robbers suddenly appeared nervous at the mention of the priest. They had no intention of angering the gods.

What do we do if this Wadhjeke tries to stop us?

"Kill him!"

The nine robbers now hurried inside the temple grabbing up anything they could find, which was very little. The bowls of incense and perfumes were of little use to them as were the small wooden statues of the gods. They were after gold! They quickly hurried through the mortuary temple and along a short corridor leading to the mud-brick pyramid, finding their way suddenly blocked by a heavy wooden door. Grab up one of the statues! one of the robbers cried out. Three of the men hurried back inside the temple and quickly returned with a large wooden statue of Thoth, the God of Scribes. Within seconds, the head of the ibis god was smashing hard against the heavy door. One cannot stop a god! The door splintered and fell from its copper hinges. The desperate and greedy men now hurried inside the pyramid, one of them holding a torch taken from the temple.

Den waited patiently for them to return...

Beyond the broken doorway leading inside the pyramid was a longer corridor with a deep shaft separating a small room on the other side. The man with the torch carefully leaned across the shaft and while some of his companions held his other arm, he reached out with the torch and waved it so that the light would illuminate the small room beyond. The room was completely empty!

The men now quickly turned their attention to the shaft itself. It must lead down into the burial chamber, one of them said to the others. A rope was produced and the man with the torch, now gripping its wood handle between his teeth climbed down the shaft. There was a lengthy silence that lasted several long minutes.

What did you find? his companions finally called down to him. They had sat patiently at the top of the shaft, listening to the hurried sounds of movement and the noise of splintering wood in the darkness below.

There is nothing! came the unexpected reply.

Nothing!

Only two sarcophagi. They are undecorated and made of plain wood — not scented wood. I force the lids of both and found only mummies inside, tightly wrapped and without any ornaments.

"Nothing!"

A short time later, the nine men returned to where Den was waiting patiently for them in the courtyard. They were not happy. Den, however, did not notice this. He was eager to have the wooden box beautifully decorated with the gods in his possession. He was surprised when they returned without the box.

Where is it? he enquired anxiously.

We could ask you the same question, said one of the men, the man holding the torch, which he was waiving at Den as if it was a dagger. "You promised us gold — there is nothing! The pyramid is empty with the exception of its two poor occupants. We came here to rob but instead, we have been robbed." Den cursed loudly under his breath. In life the owner of the pyramid, Quom had always been one step ahead of him and now, this situation had not changed with Quom’s death. A bitter smile came to the lips of the priest.

He eyed the angry men standing before him. There were two buried in the tomb and he had no wish to make this number three. The priest slowly removed the gold and silver jewellery from his wrists and fingers. He then offered it to the men with a final demand.

Where is the wooden box?

We have already told you. The pyramid was searched. There is nothing!

Den felt a sudden uneasiness in his mind. He had to get hold of the box. It was the only way he could destroy Quom — to deny him his rightful entry into the After Life. The anger swelled inside of the priest and his body was trembling with this growing rage. He took one last piece of jewellery from his body, a large anklet made of gold and decorated with red and green gemstones. He handed it to the man still holding the torch. The man was surprised by the look on the face of the priest. Den’s eyes were bulging with an anger tinged with fear, while a white froth had appeared round the corners of his now twisted mouth. The words were spoken as a curse.

"Go back inside the burial chamber — burn the two mummies so that they will be reduced to ashes. The resin used to seal the bandages of the mummies will ensure this. I want them destroyed, completely!"

2. THE TEMPLE OF GEB

It was a dangerous situation for both men, Wadhjeke and Den, one that could only end in the deaths of either or both of them. The angry priest and his men returned to the Nile, with Den sailing north to the royal city of Ineb-hedj. When he arrived there, the frustrated priest continued with his failed plan. In the temple of Horus, the Hawk God who watched over and protected the pharaohs, Den confided to one of his fellow priests what had happened, for in this temple of the god whom he so faithfully served Den felt inspired. The two men were standing beneath the enormous granite statue of the hawk god in the empty courtyard; it was still early morning and the other priests were asleep.

Wadhjeke escaped from me, complained Den. I intended on killing him and then disposing of his body in the desert where it would feed the jackals. He must have somehow been warned. The priest was looking into the darkness of the courtyard as if his angry eyes were still searching for the man who had escaped him.

What of the box of scrolls? the other priest enquired.

They were not inside the pyramid. He must have taken them with him, replied Den. He reached out with his hand and caressed the cold stone statue of the god. Wadhjeke will not escape the wrath of Horus. He has offended the god and the god will have his revenge. The scrolls must be found and Wadhjeke punished severely for what he has done.

I am intrigued, said the other priest. You have often talked to me about this missing box of scrolls, but you have not told me what is written in the scrolls. Are they prayers to the gods?

They are much more than simple prayers.

What could be more important than prayers to the gods? replied the priest. "The gods control all and everything. The balance of life is controlled by these simple prayers." Den was hesitant. He quickly glanced around the courtyard to make sure they were still alone.

"You ask the question of what is more important than simple prayers? I will tell you. The scrolls contain the life of Quom, the one who so faithfully served in the position of Royal Architect to Pharaoh Snefru, father of Pharaoh Khufu who now rules the land of Kemet. They tell in great detail of Quom’s service to Snefru." The other priest suddenly interrupted the man who was telling the story.

Pharaoh Snefru has been dead for more than two years. Why would the scrolls be so important? I remember Quom clearly and he was a man respected by all. Why would you wish to rob from him? The deceased should be allowed to enjoy the tranquility of the After Life. Surely, they deserve this.

This is true for the common man but Quom was far more than a common man, Den was quick to reply. "The gods seemed to always favour him, even though he was neither pharaoh nor priest. The gods were always close to him and I am sure he knew their secrets. I am convinced the gods and in particular, Horus spoke to him often. Let me tell you a story, one which happened more than fifteen years ago. I was a witness to what happened and remember it clearly...



The chant of the priests rose high above the streets and houses of the royal city. There were a hundred of these priests representing the many gods of Kemet. The procession began at the river where the devout priests had gathered up the water from the Nile in jugs made of gold. Each of the priests carried a jug of this precious water, the life-blood of Kemet, for without the Nile, Kemet and its gods could not exist.

The long procession then twisted its way through the city streets and out in the direction of the desert. The excited people watched from their houses in silence — for the Festival of the Rebirth was the most important religious festival in the year, at least for the common people. The festival celebrated the inundation of the Nile, the time when the river flooded the land and the rich silt from its source far to the south was deposited along the banks of the river, enriching the soil and enabling new and plentiful crops to be grown to feed the bellies of the masses.

When the procession finally reached the edge of the desert, the long line of chanting priests suddenly stopped. The splash of river water was then spilled from each of the jugs onto the dry desert sand. We pray to the gods to keep the sand from our door; to keep us protected from the desert storms, said the high priest of Horus, a position soon to be filled by Den himself. (However, at the time of the story, Den was a common priest, one of twenty priests serving in the temple of Horus in Ineb-hedj).

After the hundred priests had rested, they then gathered up their empty gold jugs and continued further into the desert and far beyond the city. They walked in silence with their heads bowed and to anyone following, the scene now seemed a strange and even a comical one.

The sun had risen above the river and the day was quickly growing hotter and hotter. Yet, all of the priests were cloaked in heavy linen shrouds that completely obscured both their faces and their bodies. The long line of white formless blobs continued on its way murmuring a low chant or prayer to the gods. They walked in the direction of a small oasis located more than five kilometres from the river — in this oasis were several palm trees and a pool of water mysteriously rising up from the empty desert sand. There was also a temple: the temple of Geb, the God of the Earth.

Geb represented both the fertile land beside the river and the empty desert beyond the river. The god was a unifier of the land just as much as the pharaohs. No one knew how old the temple was, because it had sat beside the oasis since the very beginnings of time, more than three hundred years before. This was when the nearby city of Ineb-hedj had been founded. However, in truth the temple was not really a temple at all — it was more a shrine than a temple.

It consisted only of a simple stone altar housed beneath four stone columns. There was no roof, because this roof had collapsed sometime in the distant past. A rough stone statue of the god, recreated from the stones of the collapsed roof stood on a pedestal next to the temple. This was a life-size statue of a man wearing a simple kilt, with a snake wrapped round his neck as well as snakes slithering along his arms and up his legs. Geb was considered the father of snakes, so snakes were appropriate for his image. It was, therefore, not surprising also that the oasis was filled with many of these snakes.

However, on the particular day of the Festival of Rebirth, there was something more than snakes in the oasis. The high priest leading the procession spotted the creature first: a lion. The lion was standing beside the temple and as the priest studied the scene more closely with his curious eyes, he saw something else which surprised him even more. A man was kneeling in front of the shrine temple, completely unaware of the presence of the nearby lion as he blindly and foolishly offered his prayers to Geb.

What should we do? one of the priests asked.

We must wait for the lion to go away, replied the high priest whose name was Ahmes. The other priest seemed concerned.

It will eat the man praying in the temple.

We will wait and see, insisted Ahmes.

The priestly procession now sat down on a sand dune above the oasis, watching and waiting for what was going to happen next. They were thinking that if the lion ate the praying man, then the lion would be satisfied with its meal and would not eat them. The sun was growing higher in the sky and the day was becoming hotter. Many of the priests drifted off into a drowsy sleep, protected only from the glaring sun by the scant shade of their linen sheets. The high priest continued watching the lion closely and in his thinking mind he was wondering about its godly significance.

It was a full-grown male lion with a magnificent golden mane, a strong beast much larger than any other lion the high priest had ever seen although in truth, he had seen very few lions. The golden maned lion seemed to be closely watching the praying man — no doubt summing him up for a meal. What was the lion waiting for? Why did it delay? And then something still stranger happened, if this was possible.

The lion moved forward for the kill but instead of savagely attacking and then eating the foolish pilgrim who still seemed unaware of its presence, the lion stood beside the kneeling man. Why does the man not run? the high priest was thinking quietly to himself. For several long minutes the patient lion stood beside the praying figure, its attention directed not at the man but at the statue of the god to which the man was praying. Finally, the lion turned and quietly ambled away into the surrounding desert.

The high priest and his companions hurried forward. The man must be a god they were all thinking. The man was still praying when the high priest Ahmes finally stood beside him, standing in the same spot where the lion had stood only a few short moments before.

What is your name? the high priest demanded. The god was not a god at all, only a mere man. The mere man whose face was downcast and hidden now looked up, surprised by those standing around and over him. He had believed he was alone in the oasis.

My name is Quom.

Ahmes, high priest of Horus let out a cry of surprise. He knew the man and feared him — now he feared him even more for his control over the lion, the royal symbol of the pharaohs. You are the Royal Architect to Pharaoh, said Ahmes. Quom nodded but remained silent.



The story was now finished. Den was thinking deeply about this time fifteen years before when he had first met Quom. There would, of course, be many other times when they would meet again in the years to follow.

The high priest in the story was my father, Den told the other priest in the courtyard. I was standing with him and was also closely observing the strange actions of the lion. It would appear that this Quom was indeed blessed by the gods. He sighed deeply and his face was a troubled one. I have worked hard for this blessing over the years but always, it has been denied to me. I have shown greater loyalty to the gods than Quom. Why did the gods ignore me? Why did they choose to bless this Quom? The other priest thought carefully.

Perhaps the gods are testing you?

Testing me for what!

The blessings will come. I am sure of this, comforted the other priest. "You must be patient, Den. You already fill the important position of high priest of Horus, a position once filled by your father. When you finally stand in the Hall of Truth, the gods will look kindly on you for your years of faithful devotion to them."

Perhaps? However, there is one thing I am sure of. I am sure that Quom will not have this opportunity. I have already denied him his place in the Hall of Truth. I have destroyed his mummy and also the mummy of his wife so that she cannot speak on his behalf. The listening priest was shocked by this sacrilege.

What of his written name? the other priest quickly asked. A smile of complete triumph came over Den. He had planned everything well, even before the death of his enemy.

"We have always been rivals, Quom and myself, but now I have finally beaten him, paying him back for those years of humiliation. I have erased his written name from the many public monuments that bear his name. This was easily done. Pharaoh Snefru thought highly of Quom but Snefru’s son, Khufu has other more important matters to attend to. He does not care that the faithful Quom, faithful to his father will now be denied a place in the After Life. If the name cannot be written or spoken, then the person who carries this name will not exist!" Den was suddenly silent. There was something troubling him in his moment of supposed triumph.

I must destroy the wooden box, he said finally. "It contains the scrolls written by Quom and these scrolls will surely carry his name on them. I will find this wooden box. I will destroy the scrolls. Quom will then be banished to the Nether World, a place inhabited only by ghosts and wandering spirits — he will be no more! If I must destroy Wadhjeke, the priest who is protecting Quom’s place in the After Life then I will do this too."

3. DESPERATE GAME OF HIDE AND SEEK

Phendu, Wadhjeke’s nephew eyed the men with growing suspicion. They had been watching and following him the whole morning. To add even more to his concerns, the men seemed unafraid to keep their presence hidden. There were three of them.

Phendu was a junior scribe, employed in the service of the new pharaoh, Khufu. He worked in a mud-brick, single storey warehouse beside the river in the royal capital of Ineb-hedj, where the taxes from the towns and cities along the river were counted. These taxes were brought to the royal city every three months and in truth, they were not really taxes at all but gifts, or to be more precise bribes. The governors and mayors of the cities and towns up and down the Nile were desperate to catch the attention of the young pharaoh. There were great rewards to be had in doing this.

On this particular morning, two days after he had assisted his uncle, Wadhjeke, in rescuing the wooden box and its precious scrolls from the pyramid of Quom, Phendu was down by the wharf that ran the length of the warehouse. Two boats had arrived that very morning — one from the Nile Delta and the other from the nomarchs (provinces) to the south. Phendu had just boarded the Nile Delta boat and was talking to the court scribe who had accompanied the boat. He failed to see the three men following him up the gangway until one of them placed his hand on Phendu’s shoulder. The grip was a tight one, which intimidated the young Phendu.

I wish to speak with you. The man released his grip when Phendu turned to face him.

I have work to do, the junior scribe insisted. If you wish to speak with me, then this can be done in the early evening when my daily work for Pharaoh Khufu is completed.

Do you believe in the gods? The words were spoken more as a demand than a question.

Of course I believe in the gods. Why do you ask me this?

The gods can be very unforgiving if they are wronged, said the man. One can even be denied entry into the After Life. Do you wish to suffer this horrible fate?

I have always shown respect to the gods, Phendu defended. I pray to the gods every day and give offerings in the temples. Why then would the gods deny me entry into the After life? When my time comes, I will stand before them in the Hall of Truth. I will be unafraid of their final judgement of me. He studied the man more closely. Are you a priest? You do not look like a priest.

I am in the service of a priest, replied the man. The name of this priest is Den. He is high priest in the temple of Horus. The two companions of the man moved closer and stood behind Phendu who now felt even more intimidated.

What is it that you want from me?

"We wish to speak with Wadhjeke. He has something of great interest to Den, who is the high priest of Horus — one of the most powerful men in Ineb-hedj. He has something that belongs to Den and to Horus. Do you know where we can find Wadhjeke?" Phendu immediately knew it was the wooden scroll box the men were after. Wadhjeke had warned him of Den’s desperation to find it, although he had failed to informed his nephew of the reasons for this urgency.

I have not seen my uncle for two weeks, Phendu lied. He spends much of this time praying in the mortuary temple beside the pyramid of Quom. Quom was his father. Quom is my grandfather. If you are searching for Wadhjeke, then I am sure you will find him there. The man remained silent; it was obvious he knew Phendu was lying. Finally, the man motioned to his two companions and they quietly departed down the gangway of the boat. Nevertheless, the young scribe was sure he had not seen the last of them and that more questions would be asked of him and more answers demanded, perhaps with much more force. Wadhjeke, with the exception of Phendu had no living family to help him with his obscure and strange reasons for hiding the scroll box that Den wanted so badly to find...



Wadhjeke was struggling with the heavy wooden box painted with the images of the gods. He had paid two men down by the river to help him carry it through the city to the line of hills beyond Ineb-hedj. He knew the men were suspicious of his reasons in asking them; it was night and the streets of the sleeping city were empty! When the three men reached the hills where the tombs were located, Wadhjeke ordered them to place the box on the ground. He took two copper rings from his fingers.

Here is your payment. I request you tell no one about the box. The two men, however, eyed the box with suspicion.

It is night, said one of them. Why are you so secret about all of this? It is only a wooden box. He glanced at his companion who had now knelt down beside the box.

Only a man who wishes to hide something of value would request our silence. What is inside it? I am thinking there must be something of much value. Wadhjeke was also eyeing the box.

Open it! he demanded. The men quickly obeyed.

They had expected to find something of great value, something they could steal but instead they were greatly disappointed. "Papyrus! The box is filled only with scrolls we cannot read," cursed the man. Wadhjeke handed him a gold bracelet, the only jewellery he now had.

Return to the city! he ordered. I have given you everything I have. The man snatched the gold bracelet and his companion moved forward to examine it. However, they had still not finished with Wadhjeke.

The scrolls must contain something of value, something of far greater value than this gold bracelet. The man glanced at his companion. We will steal the scrolls and sell them! If you try to stop us, then we will kill you! Wadhjeke smiled and seemed unconcerned.

If you kill me, then what will you tell the gods?

This does not concern the gods, the man replied. It is nothing more than a simple business transaction — your life for the scrolls. Wadhjeke laughed loudly.

"The scrolls contain the spoken words of the gods. What will Horus say when you desecrate his words with blood? What will Isis say? What will Osiris say? What will Seth say?" At the mention of this last god, the two men began to move quickly away into the nearby shadows of the night. Seth was God of Chaos, a far darker god than the others and one capable of creating great mischief. Within seconds, Wadhjeke found himself standing alone beneath the line of hills. He glanced towards the east. There were now faint touches of light on the horizon. The new day could not be too far away.

It was difficult work dragging the heavy wooden box up the trail leading into the hills. Wadhjeke was no longer a young man and at frequent intervals he had to stop to rest from exhaustion. Finally, after two hours had passed he finally reached his destination — a small rock-cut tomb with a magnificent view of the city and the river far below.

Wadhjeke knew the tomb well, every little detail of it. This was because he had designed and supervised its construction. The rock-cut tomb was the place where Wadhjeke himself would spend his days of peace, his eternity in the After Life. He positioned the box in front of the tomb entrance and sat down on it to once more catch his breath. His eyes were on the nearby tomb, examining every little detail of its entrance. There was great pride in what he was seeing, for Wadhjeke had spent a small fortune on the tomb — indeed, no expense had been spared. It was important, most important, to live in comfort in the After Life, sparing one’s self the ongoing hardships endured in the present life.

The tomb of Wadhjeke had been cut from the solid rock of the cliff rising high above the city. This had taken a team of five stonemasons more than a year to complete. The work was difficult but had been done well. The entrance to Wadhjeke’s tomb was a plain one, which after the priest’s burial would be concealed with a carefully cut stone — the doorway into the After Life. The stone doorway would be decorated with carved images of the gods Wadhjeke had so faithfully served in his mortal life. To ensure his name would not be forgotten, the following was already carved into the lintel above the entrance: He is humble in his work. He is honest in his devotion. He is dedicated to his pharaoh. His name is Wadhjeke. It was a simple inscription, but one that would help him when the time came for Wadhjeke to stand before the gods in the Hall of Truth. Here, his heart would be weighed on the Scales of Justice, balanced against the wrongs Wadhjeke had committed in his mortal life. The simple inscription on the entrance to his tomb would show the humbleness of the one standing before them and perhaps the gods would show sympathy for Wadhjeke if the scales weighed slightly against him.

A doorway must of course lead somewhere and this somewhere was a short and narrow corridor, with undecorated and unpainted walls and a ceiling barely the height of a man. This plain corridor of twenty paces opened up into a storage room where Wadhjeke’s belongings in his mortal life would be stacked inside wooden boxes round the sides of the walls. A brief five pace corridor led to steps and the burial chamber itself. The chamber already contained Wadhjeke’s empty sarcophagus made of expensive and perfumed wood, decorated with painted images of the gods as well as images of Wadhjeke himself. The tomb was very much like any other tomb in the nearby hills with but one important exception.

At the far end of the burial chamber, a small hole had been dug leading to a shaft and a narrow room at the bottom of the shaft. The shaft room had been included after the tomb was completed and for one purpose only — to hide the wooden scroll box now removed from the pyramid of Quom far away to the south...

Wadhjeke had just dragged the scroll box into the corridor of his tomb when he noticed faint movement outside in the early morning light. The two men had returned! They had obviously followed him to the tomb. Wadhjeke quickly hurried forward to face them.

I have already paid you generously for your services, he told them. I have nothing more to give. He opened up his hands and wrists to show he was not wearing any more rings or armbands.

You paid us well to carry the wooden box, said one of the men, their courage now increased by the approaching daylight. "The scrolls must be worth something — they must be valuable to someone. Perhaps we can get a good price for them?" Wadhjeke stepped forward to confront the two men but was quickly pushed away. One of the men now knelt down and opened up the box, before removing a bundle of scrolls. The priest staggered to his feet and hurried forward once more, attempting to grab the scrolls from the would-be robber. There was a brief and awkward scuffle.

What is going on? The voice came suddenly from the fading darkness of the nearby cliff face. The two men quickly glanced in the direction of the invisible voice but could see nothing. A sudden fear overcame them. Wadhjeke had earlier warned of the anger of the gods if the men interfered with the scrolls — none wished to anger the gods. Within an instant, the two men were hurrying down the trail to the safety of the nearby city far below. A figure suddenly knelt down beside the fallen Wadhjeke.

Uncle, are you hurt? It was the voice of Phendu. He had come to warn Wadhjeke about the men asking him questions when he had been counting Pharaoh’s taxes down by the river. Wadhjeke moaned and held his side. When he was struggling with the man, Wadhjeke had been unaware of the knife that was thrust deeply into his stomach. The blood was now flowing freely.

Did they take the box? The weakened words struggled from his mouth before fading into low moans. He was looking into the eyes of his nephew, his own eyes filled with fear and desperation — perhaps a sense of failure.

No, Uncle. The box is safe.

Wadhjeke struggled to turn his head to see the box for himself. When he saw it he became slightly more relaxed. His hand clutched tightly the arm of his nephew.

You must hide it, he whispered. "You must hide it immediately! They will come for it."

Who will come, Uncle? The robbers have fled.

Den and the others.

Others?

Wadhjeke ignore the question. He could feel the life quickly draining from his body, draining into the blood flowing on the ground outside his tomb, a tomb he knew he would soon be occupying. Words struggled from his lips.

"There is a narrow shaft at the back of the tomb. Go to Semerkhet, the stonemason. He is the builder of the tomb. He can be trusted... (a pause). Ask him to come here with some of his workers... Have them lower the wooden box into the shaft at the back of the