Vengeance of Orion Part 34

"You know him?"

"Nekoptah told me his name. I was to bring him back to Wast with me, if I survived his trap with Menalaos."

Impulsively, Aramset jumped to his feet and went to the chest on the other side of the tiny cabin. He flung open its lid and pawed through piles of clothes until he found a small, plain bronze box. Opening it, he lifted out a gold medallion on a long chain.

"This bears the Eye of Amon," he told me. I saw the emblem etched into the bright gold. "My father gave me this before... before he became devoted to Ptah."

Before he became hooked on the drugs that Nekoptah administered, I translated to myself.

"Show this to Hetepamon," said the prince, "and he will recognize it as coming from the king. He cannot refuse you then."

Our mighty armada unfurled their sails and started up the Nile two days later. The army that the Egyptians had gathered was now augmented by Menalaos and a picked complement of Achaian warriors, bound by oath to Aramset. The main strength of the Achaians remained on the coast, with Egyptian administrators to help settle them in the towns they would henceforth protect. The prince headed back for the capital, with his bloodless victory over the Peoples of the Sea.

I paced the deck each day, or gripped the rail up at the bow, trying to make the wind blow harder and the boat move faster against the current on the strength of sheer willpower. Each morning I strained my eyes for the first glimpse of the gleaming crown of Khufu's great pyramid.

Each night I tried to reach inside that ancient tomb by translocating my body. To no avail. The Golden One had shielded the pyramid too well. Mental exertion could not penetrate his fortress. My only hope was that the high priest of Amon could lead me physically through an actual door or pa.s.sage into that vast pile of stones.

That would be the ultimate irony, I thought, as I lay on my bunk sheathed in the sweat of useless exertion, night after night. The Golden One may be able to prevent his fellow Creators from entering his fortress, but could he stop a pair of ordinary humans from merely walking walking in? in?

The day finally came when we sailed past the outskirts of Menefer, and the great pyramid's polished white grandeur rose before our eyes.

I summoned Lukka to my cabin and told him, "No matter what happens at the capital, protect the prince. He is your master now. You may never see me again."

His fierce eyes softened; his hawk's face looked sad. "My lord Orion, I've never thought of a superior of mine as a... a friend..." His voice faltered.

I clapped him on the shoulder. "Lukka, it takes two to make a friendship. And a man with a heart as strong and faithful as yours is a rare treasure. I wish I had some token, some remembrance to give you."

He broke into a rueful grin. "I have memories enough of you, sir. You have raised us from dirt to gold. None of us will ever forget you."

A lad from the boat's crew stuck his head through the open cabin door to tell me a punt had tied up alongside and was waiting to take me to the city. I was glad of the interruption, and so was Lukka. Otherwise we might have fallen into each other's arms and started crying like children.

Aramset was waiting for me at the ship's rail.

"Return to me at Wast, Orion," he said.

"I will if I can, your highness."

Despite his newfound dignity at being a true prince with an army at his command, his youthful face was filled with curiosity. "You have never told me why you seek to enter Khufu's tomb."

I made myself smile. "It is the greatest wonder in the world. I want to see all its marvels."

But he was not to be put off so easily. "You're not a thief seeking to despoil the royal treasures buried with great Khufu. The marvel you seek must be other than gold or jewels."

"I seek a G.o.d," I replied honestly. "And a G.o.ddess."

His eyes flashed. "Amon?"

"Perhaps that is how he is known here. In other lands he has other names."

"And the G.o.ddess?"

"She has many names too. I don't know how she would be called in Egypt."

Aramset grinned eagerly, the youngster in him showing clearly through a prince's seriousness. "By the G.o.ds! I'm half tempted to come with you! I'd like to see what you're after."

"Your highness has more important business in the capital," I said gently.

"Yes, that's true enough," he said, with a disappointed frown.

"Being the heir to the throne is a heavy responsibility," I said. "Only a penniless wanderer is free to have adventures."

Aramset shook his head in mock sorrow. "Orion, what have you done to me?" The sorrow was not entirely feigned, I saw.

"Your father needs you. This great kingdom needs you."

He agreed, reluctantly, and we parted. I saw Menalaos peering over the gunwale as I clambered down the rope ladder to the waiting punt. I waved to him as cheerfully as I could. He nodded somberly back.

One advantage of a mammoth bureaucracy such as administered Egypt is that, once you have it working for you, it can whisk you to your goal with the speed of a well-oiled machine. The bureaucrats of Menefer had been given orders by the crown prince: convey this man Orion to Hetepamon, high priest of Amon. That they did, with uncommon efficiency.

I was met at the pier by a committee of four men, each of them in the long stiff skirt and copper medallion of minor officials. They showed me to a horse-drawn carriage and we clattered across the cobblestoned highway from the riverfront to the temple district in the heart of the vast city.

I was ushered by the four of them, who hardly said a word to me or to each other all that time, through a maze of courtyards and corridors until finally they showed me through a small doorway and into a modest-sized, cheerfully sunlit room.

"The high priest will be with you shortly," one of them said. Then they left me alone in the room, shutting the door behind them.

I stood fidgeting for a few moments. There were no other doors to the room. Three smallish windows lined one wall. I leaned over the sill of the center one, and saw a forty-foot drop to a garden courtyard below. The walls were painted with what I guessed to be religious themes: animal-headed human figures accepting offerings of grain and beasts from smaller mortal men. The colors were bright and cheerful, as if the paintings were new or recently redone. Several chairs were grouped around a large bare table that appeared to be made of polished cedar. Other than that, the room was empty.

The door finally opened, and I gasped with shock as the hugely obese man waddled in. Nekoptah! I had been led into a trap! My pulse thundered in my ears. I had left my sword, even my dagger, on the ship in Lukka's care. All that I carried with me was the medallion of Amon around my neck and Nekoptah's carnelian ring, tucked inside my belt.

He smiled at me. A pleasant, honest-seeming smile. Then I noticed that he wore no rings, no necklaces, no jewelry at all. His face was unpainted. His expression seemed friendly, open, and curious-as though he was meeting me for the first time, a stranger.

"I am Hetepamon, high priest of Amon," he said. Even his voice sounded almost the same. But not quite.

"I am Orion," I said, feeling almost numb with surprise and puzzlement. "I bring you greetings from Crown Prince Aramset."

He was as fat as Nekoptah. He looked so much like the high priest of Ptah that they might be...

"Please make yourself comfortable," said Hetepamon. "This is an informal meeting. No need for ceremony."

"You..." I did not know how to say it without sounding foolish. "You resemble..."

"The high priest of Ptah. Yes, I know. I should. We are twins. I am the elder, by a few heartbeats."

"Brothers?" And I saw the truth of it. The same face, the same features, the same hugely overweight body. But where Nekoptah exuded dark scheming evil, Hetepamon seemed at peace with himself, innocent, happy, almost jovial.

Hetepamon was smiling at me. But as I stepped closer to him, he peered at my face, squinting hard. His pleasant expression faded. He looked suddenly troubled, anxious.

"Please, move away from the sun so that I can see you better." His voice trembled slightly.

I moved, and he came close to me. His eyes went round, and a single word sighed from his slack mouth.

"Osiris!"

Chapter 42.

HETEPAMON dropped to his knees and pressed his forehead on the tiles of the floor. "Forgive me, great lord, for not recognizing you sooner. Your size alone should have been clue enough, but my eyes are failing me and I am not worthy to be in your divine presence..."

He babbled on for several minutes before I could get him to rise and take a chair. He looked faint: His face was ashen, his hands shaking.

"I am Orion, a traveler from a distant land. I serve the crown prince. I know nothing of a man named Osiris."

"Osiris is a G.o.d," Hetepamon panted, his chubby hands clutched to his heaving chest. "I have seen his likeness in the ancient carvings within Khufu's tomb. It is your face!"

Gradually I calmed him down and made him realize that I was a human being, not a G.o.d come to punish him for some self-imagined shortcomings. His fear abated, little by little, as I insisted that if I resembled the portrait of Osiris, it was a sign from the G.o.ds that he should help me.

But he talked to me, too, and explained that Osiris is a G.o.d who takes human form, the personification of life, death, and renewal.

Osiris was the first king of humankind, Hetepamon told me, the one who raised humans from barbarism and taught them the arts of fire and agriculture. I felt old memories stirring and resonating within me: I saw a pitiful handful of men and women struggling against the perpetual cold of an age of ice; I saw a band of neolithic hunters painfully learning to plant crops. I had been there. I had given them fire and agriculture.

"Osiris, born of Earth and Sky, was treacherously murdered by Typhon, the lord of evil," said Hetepamon, his voice flat and softly whispering, almost as if he were in a trance. "His wife Aset, who loved him beyond all measure, helped to bring him back to life." Had I lived here in an earlier age? I had no memory of it, yet it might have happened.

Forcing myself to appear calm, I said to Hetepamon, "I serve the G.o.ds of my far-distant land, who may be the same G.o.ds you worship here in Egypt, under different names."

The fat high priest closed his eyes, as if still afraid to look at my face. "The G.o.ds have powers and hold sway far beyond our ability to comprehend."

"True enough," I agreed, silently adding that I would one day comprehend them in their entirety-or die the final death.

Hetepamon opened his eyes and took a great, deep, ma.s.sively sighing breath. "How may I help you, my lord?"

I looked into his dark, dark eyes and saw honest fear, real awe. He would not argue when I told him that I was mortal, but he remained convinced that he was being visited by the G.o.d Osiris.

Maybe he was.

"I must go into the great pyramid. I seek..." I hesitated. No sense giving him a heart attack, I thought. "I seek my destiny there."

"Yes," he said, acceptingly. "The pyramid is truly placed at the exact center of the world. It is the site of destiny for us all."

"When can we enter the pyramid?"

He gnawed on his lower lip for a moment. His resemblance to Nekoptah still unsettled me, slightly.

"To go to the great pyramid would mean a formal ceremony, a procession, prayers and sacrifices that would take days or weeks to prepare."

"Isn't there a way we could get inside without such ceremony?"

He nodded slowly. "Yes, if you wish it."

"I do wish it."

Hetepamon bowed his head in acquiescence. "We will have to wait until after the sun sets," he said.

We spent the day slowly gaining confidence in one another. I gradually got over the feeling that he was Nekoptah in disguise and, bit by bit, Hetepamon grew easier in the presence of a person whom he still suspected might be a G.o.d in disguise. He showed me through the vast temple of Amon, where the great columned halls soared higher than trees and the stories of creation and flood and the relationships between G.o.ds and men were carved on the walls in pictures and elaborate hieroglyphs.

One of the things that convinced me he actually was a twin of Nekoptah was his foolish habit of chewing on small dark nuts. He carried a small pouch on a belt around his ample waist and constantly dug his hamlike fists into it to feed himself. His teeth were badly stained by them. Nekoptah, despite his other shortcomings, was not a nibbler.

From Hetepamon I learned the history of Osiris and his beloved wife/sister Aset, whom the Achaians called Isis. Osiris had descended into the netherworld and returned from death itself to be with her, such was the love between them. Now the Egyptians saw Osiris in the disappearance of the sun at the end of each day and the turning of the seasons each year: the death that is followed inevitably by new life.

I had died many times, only to return to new life. Could I bring my Athene back to life? The legend said nothing about her death.

"These representations are not accurate portraits of the G.o.ds," Hetepamon told me as we stood before a mammoth stone relief, carved into one entire wall of the main temple. His voice echoed through the vast shadows. "The human faces of the G.o.ds are merely idealized forms, not true portraits."

I nodded as I gazed at the serene features of G.o.ds and-smaller-kings long dead.

Leaning close enough for me to smell the nuts on his breath, he whispered confidentially, "Some of the G.o.ds' faces were actually drawn from the faces of kings. Today we would consider that blasphemy, but in the old days people believed the kings were themselves G.o.ds."

"They don't believe that now?" I asked.

He shook his fat wattles. "The king is the G.o.ds' representative on Earth, the mediator between the G.o.ds and men. He becomes a G.o.d when he dies and enters the next world."

"Why does your brother want you under his power?" I asked suddenly, sharply, without preamble.

"My brother...? What are you saying?"

Taking Nekoptah's carnelian ring from my waistband and showing it to him, I said, "He commanded me to bring you to the capital. I doubt that it was for a brotherly visit."

Hetepamon's face paled. His voice almost broke. "He... commanded you..."

I added, "He is telling the king that you are trying to bring back Akhenaten's heresy."

I thought the priest would collapse in a fat heap, right there on the stone floor of the temple.

"But that's not true! I am faithful to Amon and all the G.o.ds!"

"Nekoptah sees you as a threat," I said.

"He wants to establish the worship of Ptah as supreme in the land, and himself as the most powerful man in the kingdom."

"Yes, I believe so." I said nothing about Prince Aramset.