Remember, remember the fifth of November...
I haven’t done my writing yet for today, but I wanted to put up some of what I wrote yesterday. The writing is going well. I have named my engineer Pentawer and my priestess Ahtinanum. Maybe not great names, and “Ahtinamun” is not attested from Egypt so far as I know, but they are serviceable for a writing blitz. Without more ado, here it is; my version of Thutmose’s dream from the stele. Enjoy.
He made an apology to the elder priest and stepped out of the funerary complex. It was now noon and Ra was at his zenith. He had to get out into the open, away from the incense, but Thutmose wanted a place to sit down and rest. Across from the temple he had left was a huge stone head resting right on the desert sand. The overhang of the chin created a shadowed cleft. It would be the perfect spot to rest and recover himself. He quickly strode across the desert until he was right below the mammoth face. It was crowned with the nemes, the headdress of royalty. It was the face of a pharaoh. The Horus of his day, an Osiris for all time. It was a wide face with full cheeks. So unlike the ruling family of his own day. So unlike his own face. Thutmose touched his cheek impulsively. He knew well that even in the old days temples and statues were erected freely wherever there was available space. This monument might not be directly associated with the funerary temple behind him or the pyramids away on his left. Yet somehow he knew it was. This was the face of the man who had been so important there were still people worshipping his revered memory, if not quite his hallowed name, all these ages hence. Again he felt insignificant in the face of ancient days. He was nothing compared even to the memory of this man. How could he hope to make anything of himself worth remembering?
Thutmose was barely aware his companions had finally missed him and come across the sands to find him. Maatkure touched his arm. “Prince, let us go back to our chariots and return to the river. We can spend the heat of the day in the cool of the date palms.”
Thutmose pulled his arm roughly out of his friend’s grasp. “No, I will rest right here in the shadow of my ancestors.” He walked forward again and came to the edge of the huge head. He stooped below it and walked to the middle of the cleft below the statue. The shade was cool enough and being out of the direct light of Ra was a relief. Thutmose sat and crossed his legs one over the other. His companions joined him shortly. The three talked quietly about their hunting and they resolved between them the trip was over now they were in sight of the river again. They would wait until the heat of the day passed then head back to Men-Nefer. Thutmose’s plan to make they stay in the area of tombs for the night was forgotten as the childish and petty vengeance it was. Their conversation drifted off to nothing. Thutmose felt his eyes drooping. In his sadness he choose not to resist and soon his head fell to his chest and the price, the son of Horus, slept.
He started awake to find darkness had fallen. Shadow covered him but beyond moonlight bathed the desert in shimmering blues beyond the river the black body of Nut was studded with shimmering stars. Feeling he had forgotten something important he looked around for the others. They were gone. He was alone. He did not feel alone. He felt watched. He looked around to search the edge of the shadow again for anything he had not noticed at first but now he saw the shadow had disappeared. He was not sitting on the sand as he had been he was standing looking west into the Land of Death. He tried to remember what he had left behind, he tried to call to whomever had been with him, but his mind felt like a shallow stream and his voice was soundless in the oppressive night.
A wind struck him from the west and the abrasive sand struck him. He lifted his arm to shield his eyes and he felt the old weakness slowing his movements. A thumping filled his years over the roar of the wind. He carefully looked into the west and saw a shape moving against the horizon. It walked on four legs and it’s movements were sleek like a lion. He found he bow suddenly in his hands and he drew back an arrow as the creature in the night moved closer. Each footfall of the beast’s approach was a distant rumble of thunder. He lowered his useless bow as the beast looked higher. Higher than the pyramids he had seen earlier that day. A world-filling power. He stood helpless and mute as it closed the distance from the edge of the night to him in a few simple leaps. As it came closer he could see more than just and outline. Then suddenly, the whole massive creature was revealed to him in the sliver moonlight. He stared up from the massive lion paws to the thick limbs to the human head which rode above the animal body. He mouth gaped. A living sphinx! The largest he could imagine.
The sphinx looked down at him and he felt in looking into him. He felt it read in him every failing, all the weakness, all the resentment, everything. It began to speak and he assumed he would die, blown apart by the force of a god’s whim. Instead the voice was gentle. He heard it as if he were a sleepy child being comforted by a loving father. “Look at me, my beloved son. I am Khepri, Effective for Horus, Disperser of Chaos. I have seen your dreams and read your desires. So I shall make you the king of all the earth. You have a brow fit for the crowns of many kingdoms.” The huge beast knelt and he felt it exhale with pain. Hot breath with the smell of fresh kills passed by him. The beast put it paws before it in the classic guarding pose he had seen repeated hundreds of times before the doors of temples. Leaned forward, looming just above him, the sphinx spoke again, but now its voice was strained. “Look at my face, Thutmose. We have the same face. We share the same heart. You can feel it.” He did. He felt his heart within him straining at his chest. His ka was reaching out to the beast. He felt something was wrong and he wanted to help. They were looking at each other eye to eye. “You are my protector. I need you. The desert has come close upon me and cut off my limbs.” The wind was blowing again. He seemed to be looking down on the sphinx now. It was small and he towered over it’s helpless body. The sand was covering it, burring it as it spoke to him. Gusts blew stinging sand into his own eyes as well. He tried to act, he tried to reach out and comfort the mighty creature but his own body was being buried as well. He could only stare at the sphinx as the sands covered it to its neck. “Come to me, my son,” it begged. “Do what I desire. You are my protector.” Desperation was in its voice and he felt the same desperation as the sand reached his own neck. “Trust. I will lead you.” Then the sphinx was gone, swallowed by the desert and the gusts soon covered him in sand as well.
Right now my word count it 7,104 words.
By now I should have 8,335 words.
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