Part 1, Chapter 3

ch. 3 - Year 875





The following morning dawned clear and bright. A warm, lazy breeze caressed them as Khaemwaset walked Amon-hotep down to the quay where the royal barge of the Aten lay at anchor. Ahead of them, Thoth had already raced on board, plying the attendants with eager questions, and getting himself involved in the chores preparatory to the voyage. His youthful zest and enthusiasm lent new energy to the sailors' usually routine tasks, and the laughter of both echoed up and down the tiny inlet, settling lightly on the ears of the two Kheri-Hebs as they approached.

"So, my friend," spoke Khaemwaset, "do not let such a long stretch of time separate us again. I enjoy your company, you know."

The seer merely nodded, gazing mentally at his six-year-old charge. Already he could feel the tremendous weight of the responsibility he had taken on, heartily disliking feeling so weary so early in the day. "Why me?" he murmured. "Why should I have been chosen to perform this task, one whose purpose and outcome none of us truly understand? Who am I?"

Khaemwaset bent down and picked up a flat stone. He hefted it for a moment, then hurled it into the water, trying to skip it across the lazy waves but with little success. "I do not know the answer to that question." he said. "I do not know the answers to many questions. But the higher self does, of this I am sure. Direct your question inward, not outward. Expect to receive an answer. And when you have found it, come back and tell me, for I would learn that answer, too." He turned back to his friend. "Good-bye, Amon-hotep." he said simply. "May good fortune always go with you."

They embraced in a short, fierce hug, then the blind seer went quickly up the gangway and onto the barge. Drawing Thoth to his side, he gave orders to get under way. The hawsers were cast off and sweating, bare-skinned sailors, groaning under the effort, slowly poled the cumbersome craft away from the dock and out into deeper water. As it pulled away, Khaemwaset stepped to the edge of the quay and, smiling, waved to his two friends at the stern rail, who shouted and waved back at him, the younger more demonstratively and vociferously than the older. The High Priest of Heliopolis watched until the barge had disappeared around the bend, heading up one of the larger branches of the Nile Delta which would lead it to the city of Mennof-Ra (Memphis) and thence upriver to Thebes, then turned away as the smile faded from his face, his heart heavy with misgivings. He had not told his friend everything about the "operation" he and Hapu had stumbled upon, and he wondered now if he should have. It seemed incredible that a soul from the beyond, who would reincarnate as the next Crown Prince, would deliberately use a soul in this world to further provoke a century-old dispute. And to what end? Some vague hints of fulfillment of an equally vague destiny for himself and his companions? What would Amon-hotep have done if he had known? It was impossible to know for certain. As pragmatic as he was, the blind seer was still devoted to the esoteric principles of the Order, one of which was faith in the messages which came from the Divine Source. Khaemwaset, for the first time, began to question those principles. /Such blind faith could be dangerous/ he thought. /Where will this all lead us?/ He turned and began the long walk back to the temple complex. He would sit in meditation for a long time, praying for an explanation, but he did not feel confident that he would receive one.



The voyage upriver took several days longer than the one downstream and it gave Amon-hotep and Thoth time to get to know one another. Very quickly they discovered a bond of deep friendship despite the vast differences in their years, and Amon-hotep found himself reflecting often on Khaemwaset's words: "His fate is inexorably linked to yours". Further, there grew within him the strong realization that he had known the lad from previous lives and he recalled with grim amusement how he had felt the same way upon seeing the child for the first time in the palace but had ascribed the feeling to an overactive imagination. Now he was certain that his perception was correct and he fervently hoped that he would be able to find time enough to adequately explore his past lives. He had never done so, though he had mastered the technique as part of his Brotherhood training, but until now had lacked the incentive to go further with lt.

The extra time on the river also gave Amon-hotep ample opportunity to impart his knowledge to Thoth in a leisurely fashion. The former prince was curious about everything, asking questions almost as fast as the seer could answer them. They spent many hours discussing the flooding season, when the Nile would majestically overflow its banks, depositing the rich, black mud that it carried downstream from Nubia, and then recede, allowing the farmers to reclaim the freshly-fertilized land for the planting. They discussed, too, the generally difficult life of all the people - people who often spent their entire lives toiling interminable hours under a broiling sun but who never seemed to complain, at least publicly, knowing that Pharaoh would take care of them, and that the gods would reward them in the afterlife for their labors. When Amon-hotep spoke ln this manner, Thoth threw his head back in immense laughter. "But there are no 'gods', Amon-hotep, just One Creative Principle! The 'gods' are just the superstitions of the people!"

"Ah, but as long as the people find comfort in them," the sage rejoined, "what harm is there in their beliefs?"

"But they believe what is untrue and know not what IS true!"

"Perhaps. But their time will come. If not in this life, then in another. When the time is right, they will come to the truth. You did, I did. We all do."

Thoth fell silent. He had heard the same concept expressed many times before but never had it made much sense until now. He wondered just how much the seer knew. Pointing to a stone structure situated about a mile from shore, he asked, "Amon-hotep, that is a pyramid, is it not?"

The seer smiled to himself. Apparently, no one had told the boy that he was blind. Leaning on his staff, he made a show of shading his eyes with his hand. "Yes, it is, Thoth, and a large one, too. We are passing Dashûr, I believe."

"Tell me about them, Amon-hotep. How were they made? And for what purpose?"

"What have you been told?"

"Only what is commonly known." the boy shrugged. "That they were built as burial monuments for the ancient kings - in some cases they were the actual tombs. The shape of the pyramid symbolizes the path Pharaoh must take to return to the eternal gods."

"Who are naught but superstitions in the minds of the people, as you have said."

"And apparently kings' as well." Thoth countered, not noticing the seer's approving glance. "Are you saying, then, that all these pyramids were built due to an erroneous belief in the afterlife?"

"Not at all. First, as you should be aware from your studies, the so-called 'after-life' is more correctly called 'The Chamber of the Interlude'. Second, not all the pyramids were built according to superstition."

"Which ones were dedicated to truth?"

"The ones at Gîza, guarded by the Sphinx. And they were dedicated not so much to truth, as to the attainment of truth - to the belief that man could one day become like the so-called ‘gods’ - and to the healing arts." Amon-hotep leaned against the rail and assumed a far-away look. "We actually know very little about them, beyond the fact that they were not built by the pharaohs whose names they bear. They were ancient even then and these kings merely appropriated them for their own use - as monuments to mark their burial sites. The actual date of their construction is lost to us and our scant knowledge of their purpose has come down to us only in stories that have very probably been adultered in the telling. There are even rumors and tales about a great Avatar, a mystic teacher, who is supposed to come one day and unlock all the secrets of the pyramids and usher in a Golden Age. Very few believe that, however."

Thoth stared wistfully at the receding pyramid, the stories the seer had related tugging at his consciousness. "I believe it, Amon-hotep. Or, rather, I'd like to"

Amon-hotep, reminded of Khaemwaset's prediction of greatness for the boy, rested a fatherly hand on the youngster's shoulder. "Perhaps, Thoth, the truth of this matter will come to light in your lifetime. The Divine Ones willing, we shall see."



The remainder of the voyage was uneventful and upon disembarking at Thebes, Amon-hotep dispatched a messenger to the Residence requesting an immediate audience with the king. Thoth's eyes gaped at the wonder of the city - nothing in his young life had prepared him for the glory and magnificence of Thebes the Gleaming. Such was what he had been led to expect. But as he and the blind seer were borne through the city's streets in their sedan chair of gilded cedarwood, being held aloft by sweating Nubian slaves, he remarked to himself that the chief greatness of Thebes lay in its contrasts. Here in the waterfront were few buildings of stone and mud-brick - these were chiefly the homes of the overseers of the docks, as well as places of business for the merchant class. The common laborers, however, lived huddled together in flimsy wooden huts - more often a simple frame upon which were stretched cattle hides - crammed in upon one another alongside the stone houses, or set just inside the city's thick walls. He could not believe the stench. Dung and dust flew everywhere whenever someone ran by, and once, when a half-naked slave whipped a small group of loudly-braying asses past them with horrific cries, he quickly covered his ears at the noise. The seer chuckled softly. "Hardly like the temple back at Heliopolis, is it?" Though not spoken very loudly, the words carried to Thoth's ears despite the din.

"No, not at all." Thoth admitted, clutching at the sides of the swaying sedan chair as the slaves rounded a bend. He appeared about to retch but gamely held control of himself. "Has the capital always been like this?"

Amon-hotep nodded and breathed deeply. His keen nostrils had caught the last of the sweet Nile breeze over the odors immediately around them. "Ever since I was a boy, the riverfront quarter has been this way. But there is a beauty and harmony to it all its own, as there is in all things, and if one immerses oneself in it, even the pain and the daily drudgery, one can find rewards greater than in any temple." He slumped wistfully in his seat. "My duties prevent me from coming down here more often, though I long to, sometimes. Khaemwaset and I used to skip rocks from the quay we docked at, you know."

"Really?" Thoth's eyes lit up at this revelation, his near-sickness momentarily forgotten. "Master Khaemwaset never told me that!"

"He told you only what was necessary for you to know, Thoth." the seer replied, somewhat ominously. "But we shall have much time to talk, you and I - I promise you that." He cocked his head at an odd angle, as though listening for something. "Prepare yourself. We are almost there."

It was true. The slaves had broken into a trot as the crooked, winding street they had been traversing suddenly debouched into a broad avenue lined with soaring palms and squat acacia. Here the streets were kept immaculately clean by the servants attached to the massive temples on either side of the avenue. Ram-headed sphinxes - thousands of them, it seemed to Thoth - lined their way, and every few yards stone colossi of the many gods balefully glared down at them as they passed. At the end of the avenue they came to a huge square at the far end of which sat the magnificence of the Residence itself. Easily twice the size of any temple they had passed, it reared up before them in all its power and majesty as the gasping slaves came to a halt and gingerly set the sedan chair down on the granite flagstones. The seer and his young charge were assisted from their conveyance and were about to ascend the stupendous stairway to enter the building when a stern-looking young man came up to them and bowed deeply. "Welcome home, Amon-hotep." The gods have granted you a safe journey upon the eternal river, I see. We are pleased."

The seer returned the bow, then winced in annoyance and held his side. He waved off the other's sudden look of apprehension. "No. Ay, don’t be alarmed. The creaking bones of this aging carcass were never made for the rough comfort of a sedan chair! Perhaps some cushions next time-?"

"We shall see to it." Ay replied crisply. "And who is this?"

"A young student from Heliopolis, whom I wish to present to the king. His name-" the seer paused, stiffening. "-his name is Dhutmose."

"Indeed?" Ay cast the child a very odd look, then added, “Follow me, Amon-hotep. Pharaoh is expecting you.”

As they climbed the steps to the the huge palace, Thoth whispered, “Who is he, Amon-hotep, and why does he act so mean?”

“His name is Ay,” the seer replied, “and he is the brother of our Queen Tiy. The poor lad lost a playmate under very tragic circumstances some years ago and he has never recovered from the shock. He does not mean to be rude, but he is still hurt, and very, very angry. Bear this in mind whenever you speak with him."

"I am sorry for him. What happened to his friend?"

"That, I am afraid, is not a tale to be told now. Perhaps we shall speak of it one day. Do not let matters of sadness weigh upon you at this moment! You will soon behold Pharaoh! Let him see you with a smile on your face and joy in your heart!"

They entered the throne room. Lofty columns, decorated with vividly-colored hieroglyphs and pictures of the gods, thrust themselves upwards from the solid granite floor, supporting a vast open-air roof, the height of which almost caused Thoth to become dizzy from looking up at it. Through the crowd of people that slowly parted as they came in, many of them dignitaries and ambassadors from foreign lands, along with their various retinues, he could make out a granite dais upon which sat two thrones of solid gold. One of the thrones was already occupied by Pharaoh Amonhotpe III, and in front of this Ay was already making obeisance. The other was conspicuously empty. "Amon-hotep, where is the queen?"

If the seer had known how, he would have swore. "Thoth! I knew there was something pulling me back here! When I left for my father's funeral, Queen Tiy was six months with child! She may, even now, be nearing labor!" He approached the throne as the king got to his feet and Ay stood to one side of him. He bowed as deeply as his aching side permitted. "Hail the living Horus! May the gods grant you life, prosperity, and health! When I left Thebes, it was with a heavy heart, as you well remember, but I have returned overflowing with joy!"

Pharaoh Amonhotpe acknowledged the seer's salutation with a brief nod, then seated himself. "We thank the gods for your safe return, Amon-hotep, and we are glad to hear of your great happiness. Who is your friend?"

The seer fairly beamed. "He, Majesty, is the reason for the gladness of my heart. May I present young Dhutmose, a humble student of the Mysteries from Heliopolis. The Eternal has revealed to me that I am to adopt him as my successor as High Priest of the Inner Temple of Thebes. I wish to secure Pharaoh's blessing in this."

Ay leaned and whispered in the king's ear. Pharaoh grunted, then turned to the seer. "What did you say his name was?"

"Dhutmose, Majesty."

“And his age?"

"Almost seven." The sudden look on the king's face caused the seer to hastily add: "He was presented to Master Khaemwaset by a fisherwoman who could no longer feed him. When Khaemwaset realized the boy had been born in the same year as your departed son, he grieved many a night. But to do honor to Pharaoh, whom he loves, he named his charge in memory of the prince. Since that day, the boy has been raised under Khaemwaset's guidance, and has shown such proficiency in his hieroglyphics that he is now better known by his nickname of Thoth."

At this explanation, the king visibly relaxed. Turning his attention to the seer's charge, he asked, "Is this true?"

"Yes, Majesty." Thoth replied, not lifting his eyes. "I have known no life other than that of the Heliopolis temple."

"And do you wish to become Amon-hotep's apprentice?"

"Yes, if Pharaoh grants his permission." Thoth looked up at the king with a sudden stern expression. "I have been told, Majesty, that it is the will of the Eternal One." he added, politely but firmly. "I could not wish it otherwise."

The king smiled and descended the dais. He laid his hand on the boy's head, then turned and embraced the seer. "Whatever gods there be, Amon-hotep, I thank them for this day! Your request is happily granted! Thoth, feel free to come to the palace whenever you wish. Many of the members of my court have children your age. I'm sure you would enjoy their company."

"Thank you, Majesty, but I have no other desire than to be with and learn from Amon-hotep. Should an Apprentice High Priest waste his energy elsewhere?"

The king's eyes softened as he regarded the boy. "No, Thoth, of course not. Thus shall it be." To the seer he added, "I am greatly pleased, my friend, and thankful. It is the way of Ma'at, the proper order of things, that the Sacred Brotherhood continue." He turned and walked slowly up the steps to his throne, seating himself with an easy smile. "May the gods grant you both life, prosperity, and health!" he intoned, and raised his arm, signaling that the audience was at an end.

But just as the seer and Thoth turned to depart, a servant rushed in and, heedless of protocol, dashed up the steps of the dais and began whispering urgently into the king's ear. Amon-hotpe's face went an ashen color and as the servant stepped back, got unsteadily to his feet and spoke in a shaky voice. "Our beloved Queen Tiy has delivered a daughter but to our sorrow, the child is stillborn. I hereby proclaim the ritual seventy days of mourning; the child shall be mummified and placed in my tomb. All audiences of any kind are suspended during this period." He paused. "I shall be with my wife."

The throne room plunged into deathly silence as the king descended the dais and, flanked by Ay, the servant, and his personal guard, hurriedly left the room. Sudden shock and deep sorrow were etched on the faces of the people they passed, and from somewhere in the crowd came a choked sob. Thoth looked after the king, his young features contorted with grief. "What a tragedy, Amon-hotep! I am truly sorry we picked this day to come to Thebes. Would that it had never dawned!"

The seer, who had stopped short as soon as Pharaoh Amonhotpe had begun speaking, stood stock still, his head cocked to one side as though listening for something. "Not Thoth," he said absently, "this day was chosen for us, as you well know. The Eternal One has ordained this." Turning to observe his king departing through a side entranceway, he quickly added in a hushed whisper: "It is a ploy, to put the priests of Amon at bay! The king has received his successor!"

Thoth blinked. "A son? But he just announced-"

"Be still, young one, and learn wisdom. Come!"

Together, they followed Amonhotpe and his retinue down a short corridor, then around a corner to the room that housed the royal nursery. Located in the east wing of the palace, the nursery faced the rising sun. Thoth was surprised by the heavy security but said nothing. As the retinue was about to enter, the king leaned towards the servant who had delivered the message: "Return to the throne room and have the seer Amon-hotep come here." he said tersely. "I would have words with him."

The servant bowed and turned to depart, only to behold the seer and Thoth standing at the end of the corridor. "Majesty-" he began.

The seer cut him off, his powerful voice booming in the confined space. "You have need of me, Majesty?" he cried. "Speak, and let your words command me!"

"Come forward, seer, and bring your young charge. If he is to be your apprentice, let us begin his education at once." Without a backward glance, Amonhotpe threw aside the gilded hangings and entered the nursery. The seer and Thoth followed, and the guards, augmented by the king's personal escort, took up their stations once more. Ay would see to it that none would enter while they lived.

Queen Tiy lay propped up in bed, her servants fanning her gently with ostrich plumes. She smiled weakly as the party entered; the birth had not been without its complications. The king took her hand and kissed her lightly on the forehead, then with his free hand caressed the infant which suckled quietly at its mother's breast. Nearby sat the Princess Sit-Amon and the aging Queen-Mother, Mutemwiya, murmuring prayers of thanksgiving to Heket and Meskhenet, goddesses of childbirth and the nursery. Miniature statues of each squatted in wall niches, flanked by votive candles. The seer waited patiently, vaguely suspecting what his king wished of him, and fervently hoping he might be wrong.

At length the king rose and came over to him. "Can you not guess, seer, what Pharaoh requires of you?"

"I have grown old in the service of your house, Majesty," Amon-hotep answered, "and I have seen much. I have also learned never to guess what my lord will ask of me for I frequently guess wrong and am ill-prepared to serve the Living Horus. What is your desire, my king?"

Amonhotpe lifted an eyebrow as if preparing to speak, then thought better of it and smiled wearily instead. He crossed to the window, his arms folded across his chest, and leaned on the sill with an audible sigh, gazing absently at the desert stretching before him. "I am not yet thirty years old, seer, yet the double crown weighs down on me with crushing force. I have a newborn son - Nefer-khepru-Re wa'enre Amonhotpe - and he is safe. For now. But I fear for his life if Amon finds out. Do you now begin to understand me?"

"Majesty, you have taken all necessary precautions by proclaiming mourning and going into seclusion. You are Pharaoh! You are the Living Horus and the power in Kemet! What can I do that you cannot?"

The king whirled so quickly that the seer instinctively raised his staff, as if to ward off a blow. "Power, Amon-hotep? I am Pharaoh, yes, but if I have to fear for the life of my son, then I have not the power! Amon usurps it daily, and all I can do is sit by and watch!" He left the window and began to pace, rubbing his hands together nervously. The seer remarked to himself that his king greatly resembled a caged lion - still capable, but no longer threatening. "Amon's priests wish me dead, seer, and will not allow a son of mine to come to the throne. When I die without heirs, they will attempt to usurp the kingship - of this I am certain! If what I have in mind succeeds, my son will indeed be Pharaoh after me, but he cannot be raised at the palace, nor anywhere near Thebes." He halted directly in front of the seer, his eyes blazing dangerously. "Therefore, it is our desire that you take the child and deliver him to a safe haven where he can be raised in peace. I trust your judgement in this."

Blunt, direct, forceful. The pronouncement stunned and staggered the seer. He leaned forward on his staff, trying to compose his thoughts. "Majesty, this is a most unwise choice. The prince of the realm should be raised in Thebes, here in the Residence, not in some foreign land. Who will instruct him properly in his hieroglyphics? Who will teach him statecraft, and manners befitting royalty? How will he be able to develop his policies of kingship so that he will be able to justly rule the people of the Two Lands?"

“We have considered that and we feel that you can best provide the answer."

Amon-hotep liked this train of thought even less.

"What I am asking, seer," the king continued, "is something I hope you will consent to as a favor to me and my family, and for the good of the throne. I don't wish to order you as Pharaoh would order just any servant." He paused, weighing his words. "I would wish you to stay with my son wherever you take him, and raise him to be king. However, you now have the responsibility of training young Thoth, also, and I fear the two cannot be accomplished together. Therefore, the haven you take him to must also be a place where he can be raised as a prince of the realm. Do you understand?"

For the first time since he had entered the room, a slow smile spread across the seer's face. "And it must also be a place that has a tradition of raising young children, must it not?"

Despite himself, the king broke out laughing. "Of course! I would not have put it in such terms, but you are correct, as always. Yes, Khaemwaset's school at Heliopolis will be the perfect place!" He sobered and resumed his pacing. "When would you deem it wise to go?"

"The sooner, the better, Majesty, but we cannot take the risk of using a royal barge or the excuse of an official trip. Such actions would attract unnecessary attention. Perhaps we should travel disguised as ordinary merchants or tradesmen. My servant, Paren-nefer, knows much about such occupations, as he deals with such people daily in his capacity as chief procurer of foodstuffs for my household."

Amon-hotpe nodded. "Then let it be done as you say. Go now and make all necessary preparations." He gripped the seer's shoulders. "May good fortune go with you, my friend."

The seer bowed low and, taking Thoth's hand, hurriedly exited the nursery. His charge's hushed questions were met only by an irritated wave to be silent as he struggled with a sudden disquieting force which rumbled through his body. Try as he might, he could not force it away...



"...and that is how we came to return to you so swiftly, Khaemwaset." the seer finished. "The Eternal does indeed move in mysterious ways."

The High Priest of Heliopolis merely nodded and rose from his chair and began to pace. A single candle lit his sanctum, preparatory to his evening meditation, and a thin stream of aromatic smoke rose from a nearby brazier wherein smoldered his favorite incense. He stopped before it, inhaling deeply of its fumes, then slowly turned and reclined on the coarse mat facing the candle. "Come, my old friend, and join me in seeking the peace and solace of meditation."

As the seer settled himself, Khaemwaset closed his eyes and inhaled deeply once more. As he did so, he tensed his extremities, then relaxed them, slowing down the metabolic processes of his physical body so that his mind would be freer to concentrate on the task at hand. Amon-hotep followed suit and soon the deep, measured tread of their simultaneous breathing filled the room. At length, Khaemwaset spoke again. "You recall our conversation concerning Thoth's future, do you not?"

"Of course. He is to come to greatness under my tutelage and will become Theban High Priest upon my transition. What has this to do with the child I have brought you?"

"I ask your forgiveness for what I am about to tell you, Amon-hotep."

"Forgiveness? It is granted, of course, but why?"

"Because I did not tell you everything."

The seer sat quietly for a moment, digesting this bit of information. "Continue."

"I had been warned in an astral flight to rescue Thoth from the clutches of Amon's priests. That much you know. But there is more. For though his name will be long remembered - far beyond either yours or mine - he is but a pawn in a grander scheme of things."

"As are we all, in one way or another."

It was Khaemwaset's turn to be amazed. "Then you know the truth? Why did you not speak thus to me?"

"About Thoth?" Amon-hotep chuckled. "I know only what you have told me. Anything else I have tried to learn has been denied me by the Eternal Itself. I know not why. I only spoke in a general way, Khaemwaset. Now tell me the specifics of what you mean."

Khaemwaset stared at the candle's steady flame. "For reasons unknown to me, an...'operation.' if you will, is being directed by someone in spirit to bring the Heliopolis school of the Brotherhood to the fore again. Thoth's birth, danger, and rescue were the first in a series of events designed to achieve that end. His birth as a prince was meant to heighten the tension between the king and Amon, and his disappearance to push Pharaoh to our side through his blaming of Amon. However, since the king is no longer strong enough to actively depose Amon, that task will be left to his successor. And that is the child you have brought to me.”

"And you are to train him fully in the ways of Heliopolis so he can repudiate Amon and restore Heliopolis to her 'rightful' place." the seer finished. "And this son of the king - is he the architect of this plan?"

"Yes. So it was revealed to Hapu and me."

"I see. This troubles me, Khaemwaset. No, not because of my involvement with the Theban faction, or my disagreement with my father. I am a student of the Mysteries, and a servant of the One. What It wills, I shall do! But such a thing will not come about easily. There will be pain and suffering, and much blood will be spilt - on both sides - before it is done. Surely there must be a better way!"

Khaemwaset shook his head and inhaled the incense once again. "I have sought such a reprieve, my friend, but I have been told that it must be done in this manner.”

"Then let us enter fully into meditation and petition the Eternal for what It will tell us."

Together they relaxed their bodies, inhaled deeply three times, and began to chant:



"Hail Harakhte, lord of the two horizons!

"In your beauty, in your splendor, you who keep secret what is hidden!

"Reveal to me what my heart desires to know!

"Greatest of powers, I raise my arms in praise of your Ka!

"Open the door to my soul, that my heart may live forever among the Divine Ones!"



then bowed their heads and lapsed into silence. As his body slowly became diffuse to him, Amon-hotep's mind saw a door opening, and beyond, a picture of himself and Thoth delivering a baby into Khaemwaset's waiting arms, then he and his charge turned and walked away. He saw the images return to Thebes and immerse themselves in the routine tasks of daily life. Many years passed during which intermittent and incomplete reports on the growing child's life were clandestinely delivered to him, then slowed to a trickle and stopped altogether. For a time, Amon-hotep's mind could see nothing, then in a flash, he saw himself and Thoth, along with the Pharaoh Amonhotpe III and his wife, traveling in secret on what was, nonetheless, a state visit to some far-away country. The visions ceased abruptly and the seer snapped out of his trance with a jolt, knowing that connected with the trip was both a great joy, and a horror more blasphemous than anything he had ever known. And although it was far in the future, he knew he could not avoid it, for the journey was both his karma and his destiny.

To Khaemwaset, however, was revealed information of a different nature. He saw himself teaching hieroglyphics and the rudiments of the Mysteries to a child no more than five, whose development rivaled that of Thoth's. This he knew to be Amonhotpe IV. The scene vanished and in its place came another where he was saying goodbye to the boy and the seer's servant, Paren-nefer, as they left Heliopolis for an undisclosed location. He mentally asked where they were going and was rewarded with an image of a sharp mountain peak, then the image narrowed and focused in on a small cave nestled in the hillside which was fed by a spring of crystal clear water and over which a flock of ravens circled lazily. As Khaemwaset realized with a start what the vision meant, he slipped out of trance to behold his friend holding a cup of water to him. "Drink, Khaemwaset, and be at peace. The water is already cleansed."

He accepted the cup gratefully and drained its contents, wondering why he was soaked with sweat. "My thanks, Amon-hotep. How did you know I needed it?"

"You meditated quite a long time, and near the end you were shaking visibly. What was revealed to you that t would upset you so?"

Khaemwaset remained silent a long while, staring at the candle flame. "I cannot fathom the reason," he said at length, "but it seems possible that I have been wrong about the new prince."

"Wrong? In what way?"

"I do not know. But I saw an even larger scope behind him than I had previously imagined. What he is, and what he will become, is beyond any power, save that of the Eternal Itself, to see at the present time. But I feel you were right - we are all pawns, all of us. Even Amonhotpe IV."

The seer grunted. "Such knowledge would not cause you to fear so. What, truly, did you see?"

"I do not know what you mean, Amon-hotep. I truly do not." He turned his attention to the candle once more. "Perhaps you should go. I will meditate on it and tell you, if I can."

The seer said no more and took his leave. Something in his friend's aura had told him that Khaemwaset was in great agony - agony too deep for him to inflict upon anyone else. Amonhotep silently traversed the short distance to his own quarters where he immediately sat in the lotus position and offered prayers for his long-time friend. Khaemwaset, too, sat in lotus, but neither offered prayers nor resumed meditation. He remained motionless through out the night, desperately attempting to reconcile his divinely-ordained task with the visions he had just seen. Amon-hotep had said that much blood would be spilt. He shuddered again. Blood….familiar, intimate blood…



The ensuing decade passed as a blur to the blind seer. His routine tasks for Pharaoh seemed more time-consuming than ever, and though he continued to attend to the Order's business, he found less and less time to devote to the practice of the mystic principles he taught daily. As a result, he began passing more and more executive duties of the Order onto Thoth's young shoulders, and though he did so with much trepidation, his apprentice responded better than he had hoped. Thoth actually seemed to thrive on the work and frequently demanded more to do. The more functions he assumed, the more he achieved, and often thought up new measures to aid in the Brotherhood's activities. But nothing Thoth helped initiate was greeted with more skepticism, and later with more overwhelming approval, than the Order's official sanctioning of women students within its ranks.

Since the days of Amon-hotep's apprenticeship to Ineni, the High Council had been aware that the Order's male students had regularly shared the Sacred Teachings with their wives and lovers. This had been tolerated so long as the women involved swore the same secrecy as their men. Realizing this, and after meeting some of the wives of the Brotherhood members and assessing their potential as students, Thoth had gone to Amon-hotep with the proposal that such women be admitted to the Order, and on an equal footing with the men. It was an unheard-of proposition but Thoth countered the argument by pointing out that if all students being considered by the Order were equal before the Eternal, why should a sexual difference be a prohibition? After lengthy meditation, the High Council and Amon-hotep both approved the plan and presented it to Pharaoh, who soon gave it his divine blessing. Thus, on the eve of Pharaoh's twenty-third year, the first group of women stood on the threshold of the Atrium, and were solemnly initiated into the Sacred White Brotherhood of Thebes.

When the ceremony was done, the seer retired to his private quarters for rest and meditation. After lighting his incense and reciting his mantram, he settled into a deep state of repose and let his conscious self drift away so that he could receive whatever wisdom the Eternal wished to impart. But though he had initially prayed for guidance concerning the Order's new students, he was surprised at the visions he received. So surprised, in fact, that his conscious mind refused to accept them, and he awoke without memory of what he had seen...





Year 864:



The air was hot and stifling, and as it plodded along, the weary donkey kicked up clouds of choking dust. Paren-nefer coughed mightily, trying to rid his throat of the cloying debris. It was no use. He would die out here, far from Kemet, in the dirty, haunted land of Samaria. It mattered not to him that he approached the slopes of Mt. Carmel through the valley of Jezreel. His mind was filled with dread at what might be found within the district. The mountain was probably haunted, too, and the holy man said to inhabit its slopes either drunken, a bandit, or a renegade priest who exacted some kind of tribute from the local populace. Paren-nefer shuddered as his worst fear shot through him. Human sacrifice?

/Ah, well/, he thought. /If I die, I die in the service of the future king/. The gods would reward him, of that he was certain. Though chief of Amon-hotep's servants, he had never understood the seer, and was much afraid when he had been left in Heliopolis with Khaemwaset. He had spent nearly a decade among the very Mysteries themselves, but had never become a student, and had clung tenaciously to the conventional religion, worshipping in secret. He had never let on to anyone until he had confessed to Khaemwaset on the day he had been sent on his mission that he clandestinely sacrificed to Amon. Khaemwaset had laughed then, saying that such faithfulness to his own inner call had more than qualified him for the task at hand.

He swung his head around, surveying the surrounding countryside, and his gaze eventually came to rest on the slim figure astride the donkey. Nefer-khepru-Re wa'enre Amonhotpe IV, prince and future king of Egypt, sat stiffly there, trying very hard not to let Paren-nefer know he was dying of thirst. "We shall be coming to the river Kishon very shortly, Master," Paren-nefer said hopefully. "I hear it has not been overmuch affected by the drought. We shall drink our fill and clean ourselves, then rest and climb Carmel tomorrow."

The prince simply nodded, searching the skies for rainclouds, but there were none to be seen in the azure vault stretching above them. "I think, my friend, that you are right," he said at length, "though I doubt the Kishon is at full strength. The Bedouin we spoke with yesterday seemed to refer to it as a brook or a thin stream rather than a river." He squinted against the harsh sun. "I know not how, or why, but I believe this drought will be broken soon, and mightily." Suddenly, Amonhotpe sat up sharply. "Paren-nefer ! Who or what is that?"

"What, Master? Where?" All Paren-nefer's fears came surging back to him.

"There, directly ahead. It seems to be hopping from rock to rock!"

"Is it man or beast? I cannot see from down here."

"I'm not certain, but I suggest we find out!" Though but nine years of age, Amon-hotpe possessed a courage that had impressed even Khaemwaset, though sometimes it bordered on recklessness. He dug his heels into the donkey's flanks, urging it forward, but to his discomfiture, his action elicited only a loud, protesting bray from the animal, and it steadfastly refused to move.

"By Set, this donkey is wiser than its rider!" Parennefer exclaimed, then remembered who that rider was. "Ah, Master, a thousand pardons-!"

Amonhotpe waved his apology aside. "Very well. We shall let this apparition come to us, then." He scanned the sky again. "Are those vultures above him?"

Paren-nefer shaded his eyes, staring. "No, they're too small. Ravens, maybe, though what in the name of Nekhebet ravens are doing in this bleak country I have no idea." He paused. "They do seem to be following him, almost ... protecting him..." He broke off, then continued in a hushed voice. "This must be the magician of Carmel, Master! What shall we do?"

"Announce ourselves, of course." Amonhotpe replied curtly as he dismounted. "He is why we are out here, or have you forgotten?"

The hopping figure was now close enough for Amonhotpe to make him out clearly. A man he was, old-looking, and at the same time hardly out of his teens. A long ragged cloak covered most of his gaunt frame, hiding the effects of starvation and thirst. Tattered sandals spoke of a man literally on the run. Great masses of dirty, unkempt jet-black hair covered his face and head, and not until he was directly before them did the pair see that the amazing figure's eyes were not only of different colors - one a mystic emerald, the other as blue as the sky - the green one at times operated seemingly independent of its mate. Though obviously of slight build, the depth of the depressions left in the hard dry ground by his short, stout staff bespoke a man of considerable physical strength. As a raven came appallingly close to his ear, Paren-nefer cried out and threw himself to the ground, beseeching the stranger for mercy with wild cries. The bizarre figure merely stared down at him, stroking his tangled chin whiskers with his free hand while his eyes blinked and his head bobbed with short, staccato movements. The raven had disappeared.

"Mind not my servant." Amonhotpe offered. "He is a good man but is terrified of that which he does not understand. Who are you?"

The stranger continued stroking his beard and only belatedly realized he'd been addressed. He turned to the prince. "Oh?" he said daze-like. "Oh! Well-um-that is-ah, yes! Oh! I see! Of course!" He spun suddenly, almost knocking Amonhotpe aside with his staff. "Melkart!" he screamed.

The raven which had nearly hit Paren-nefer screeched a reply and swooped down to settle on his master's shoulder. In doing so, he shot by Amonhotpe so closely that the latter lost his balance and sprawled to the ground to avoid being hit. As the bird settled itself, the stranger snatched it from his shoulder, one sinewy hand completely enveloping it, and drew it so close to his face that his eyes actually crossed as he addressed it: "Friends, Melkart! NO!" With that, he heaved the thoroughly confused bird straight up into the air, directly through the rest of the ravens which circled lazily over him. With shrieks and squawks which echoed and re-echoed across the valley, the birds scattered and were soon lost to sight, save for the one thrown which righted itself, stared at its master a brief moment, then without a sound vanished in the direction of Mount Carmel. Through it all Paren-nefer lay face down on the hard ground, his body twitching in abject terror as he mumbled spells of protection and prayers to his gods. Amonhotpe slowly got to his feet and dusted himself off. The stranger stood with his back to him, staring after the last raven, gleefully cackling to himself, and the prince took the opportunity to try and recover the scattered remnants of his shattered dignity.

Without a backward glance, the stranger headed off back the way he had come. Amonhotpe stared at his back uncomprehendingly for several moments before finding his voice. "Wait! Are you just going to just go off and leave us here without offering us food and drink? I have heard that the hospitality of this land was unquestioned!"

Paren-nefer raised his head, aghast. "Master! Be careful what you say! This magician will-!"

"Lead you to water." the strange man finished. "If you have the courage to follow him."

"Bring the donkey, Paren-nefer." Amonhotpe commanded. "I will walk with him." As the servant reluctantly moved to comply, still muttering his prayers, the young prince took off at a trot to catch up with the stranger. When he came up beside him, Amonhotpe grabbed him by the arm and turned him aside. "I must know your name. Are you-?"

The wild man cackled and his emerald eye seemed to glow. "Well, I think so! That is, if you come from Khaemwaset!"

"You know him?"

"Oh, ho! Well, that is, ah - yes! I know him! Not in the way you're accustomed to knowing someone but - ah - yes! I spoke with him last night, too!"

"Spoke with him?" Amonhotpe was momentarily confused. "Oh, you must have spoken on the astral plane, while both of you were meditating!"

The stranger blinked. "Astral plane? Are you sure?" When Amonhotpe nodded, he continued. "Hm. It didn't feel like the astral plane." He broke into laughter, sounding not unlike one of his ravens. "Ha! Some damned many meditations and out-of-bodys - they all run together! Hardly know which plane I'm on any more! Except, of course, when I tangle with Ahab and Jezebel. Crafty and dangerous, those two, especially the woman. While you are in this land, beware of them."

As Amonhotpe nodded his assurance, Paren-nefer came up with the donkey. Upon seeing the stranger staring directly at him, his emerald eye working strangely, he bowed low and averted his gaze. "Please, good sir, do not harm my master or myself. We are humble travelers on our way to-"

"What are your names?" the magician suddenly thundered.

"Ah, ah, mine is Paren-nefer, and I am slave to my master, Naphuria."

"Naphuria, eh?" the magician commented and turned back to Amonhotpe. "That is your Horus-name is cuneiform, is it not?"

"It is." Amonhotpe answered. "And what is yours?"

"I have been called many things, by many peoples, young Naphuria." the stranger replied solemnly. "But I prefer to be called by the name I took when I was called to prophesy: 'Yahweh is my God.' You and your servant may call me...Elijah."



Despite his outward appearance - an amalgram of madness, superstition, and not-so-vague rumors - Amonhotpe and Pa-ren-nefer found Elijah to be extremely intelligent, and highly concerned about the nature of God and the welfare of his people, as well as a student of the Mysteries. On the basis of one of Khaemwaset's meditations, he had been granted a charter by the Kheri-Hebs of Heliopolis to set up an adjunct school of the Brotherhood on Carmel. Elijah had just begun to put the school into operation when Jezebel had arrived from Phonecia to marry Ahab and turn his people away from Yahweh, the Hebrew god. He had felt the call to prophesy then, and had confronted Ahab and Jezebel. For failure to remain faithful to Yahweh, he had warned Ahab, the god of his people would inflict the land with extended drought and famine. But in three years, Jezebel had not relinquished her Phoenician grip on Samaria, nor had she wavered in her desire to have Yahweh supplanted by Ba'al, the major Phoenician deity. For this, Elijah had recently warned them, Yahweh Himself would appear soon and prove Himself mightier than all the priests and prophets of Ba'al, Asherah, and Melkart combined. With a wry smile, Elijah explained that although Yahweh had sent the ravens to him to lead him to food and water, he had named them for the various false gods arrayed against Yahweh. "For in this manner, I am reminded always of the task that is before me!"

When they had met him, he had just come from praying on Carmel for he had been told in meditation that they were approaching. He was to take them in and teach them as best he could, but even before their work could begin, he had to go through with Yahweh's challenge to Ba'al, which would commence the following morning. None of the three slept well that night - Paren-nefer tossing and turning with nightmares, Elijah alternately pacing and meditating, and young Amonhotpe laying awake, staring wide-eyed at the Hebrew prophet, reveling in his own secret excitement and curiosity.



Amonhotpe and Paren-nefer awoke to the sounds of wild screams and hideous laughter. With a shock, they both realized that Elijah was gone and from the position of the sun outside the cave they realized they had slept more than half the day away. They quickly dressed and dashed outside where they beheld a vast throng of people covering the hillsides of Carmel. Those near a high plateau were the ones shouting, and the people directly behind them passed word of the events transpiring on the plateau down to those unable to see. "What is happening, Master?" Paren-nefer whispered. "And where is Elijah?"

The prince nudged a spice merchant next to him and engaged him in conversation. "It seems, Paren-nefer," he replied at length, "that Elijah has challenged the priests of Ba'al to call down fire from their god to light a sacrifice. If Ba'al does so, he will be revealed to be God. But if he does not, and Yahweh does, then Yahweh will be proclaimed God and the power of Jezebel will be broken." Paren-nefer said nothing but clutched ever tighter his small amulet of Horus.

Scanning the hillside and the crowd, Amonhotpe added: "I think I can get to the top. I certainly want to see what Elijah is up to. Will you wait here, or follow me?"

"I will follow you, Master." Paren-nefer replied resignedly.

They found an almost-hidden path to the side of the cave and began to make their way upward. They had to squeeze by several persons in the process who berated them at their passage, but most were only too eager to hear fresh news to care. Indeed, to everyone who cursed them, Amonhotpe politely replied that he was attempting to secure more direct information and with this, they were grudgingly allowed to pass. They soon reached the crest and edged their way into the front line of spectators. What Amon-hotpe saw nearly made him retch.

On the far side of the naturally-carved arena stood Elijah - proud, resolute, and stretched to his full height. Directly behind him was a hastily-constructed dais upon which sat a very weary looking man arrayed in the purple robes of kingship. Amonhotpe knew him at once to be Ahab. He could not identify anyone immediately around the king as Jezebel and assumed she had not come. But what horrified Amonhotpe, and what was the cause of the screams of delight and derision, was the scene of madness in front of Elijah. Around an ancient, broken altar jumped over four hundred naked men and women, wildly dancing and gesticulating, screaming at the top of their lungs, calling upon Ba'al, Melkart, and Asherah to send fire to the sacrifice.

And to propitiate their gods, they were slashing themselves to pieces with holy knives.

As Amonhotpe looked on in stunned horror and revulsion, and the din of the crowd grew in intensity, one by one the priests and priestesses of Ba'al dropped from exhaustion - many dying on the spot due to their self-inflicted wounds. Stoically, Elijah directed Ahab's personal servants to clear away the prophets of Ba'al from around the altar whereupon lay the slaughtered bullock for sacrifice. At Elijah's further instruction, the altar was cleared, and when this was done, the prophet of Yahweh stepped forward and addressed the throng. Amonhotpe's eyes never left him.

"People of Israel," Elijah thundered, "you have seen before you this day the utter failure of Ba'al and the other gods of Phonecia to answer the call of their priests. Now, you stiff-necked people of so little faith - you who mouth the stories of your spiritual forefathers - Moses, Joshua, Deborah and Barak, and all the rest - now you shall feel the power of Yahweh as only His prophet, Elijah, can reveal Him to you!" He scanned the cloudless sky a moment, then turned to the altar.

At Elijah's commands, the stones of the ancient altar, which had fallen into disarray over the centuries, were properly rearranged and fresh kindling laid. The prophet of Yahweh prayed over a second calf and ritually slaughtered it, carefully laying the pieces on the firewood so that it would be acceptable to Yahweh. Then, to everyone's shocked amazement, he ordered a trench dug around the altar and when this was finished, he commanded that enough water be poured over the altar and the sacrifice to fill the trench. Amonhotpe grinned to himself as a restless murmur shot through the crowd. In the midst of a severe drought, Elijah would waste precious water to make the ignition of the sacrifice that much more difficult for Yahweh. /How powerful this god must be!/ he thought. /And what tremendous confidence in Him Elijah has,/ he reflected, /and in himself./

Elijah scanned the sky once more, then quickly ordered the exhausted survivors of the Ba'al priesthood to be dragged close to the altar. "People of Israel!" he cried. "Behold now the power of Yahweh!" and dashed for the protective cover of a rocky overhang. A few spectators on the fringes of the throng had crept forward to try and touch the prophet, and these Elijah scooped up in his deceptively powerful arms and carried them with him. His act saved their lives.

From somewhere deep underground came a thunderous groaning and rumbling. Without warning, the plateau heaved and trembled, toppling a good many of the crowd. Amonhotpe clung desperately to an outcropping of rock. All around him people screamed in anguish, many calling upon Yahweh to cease his wrath. Everywhere small handheld idols of Ba'al were smashed to pieces while their erstwhile owners fell to their knees, begging Yahweh for forgiveness. Though convinced he was going to die, Amon-hotpe sensed that this was only the beginning.

As the quaking grew stronger, Elijah's powerful voice made itself heard over the tumult, though the prophet himself was nowhere to be seen: "Now, Yahweh, show yourself to your people! Show them your power to consume the sacrifice I have prepared for you, so that your people Israel may again have faith in you and follow the god who freed them from their bondage in the land of Mitzraim!" Instantly, the quaking trebled and was accompanied by a frightful howling wind. Spectators by the hundreds seemed rooted to the spot, some lying on the ground, some kneeling, but most scattered in blind panic for cover of any kind. Amonhotpe looked around for Paren-nefer but the servant was nowhere to be seen. The prince was about to search for him, fearing the worst, when a violent gust of wind flattened him against a rock wall and he heard someone scream: "It is Yahweh! He comes! He comes for us all!" Amonhotpe instinctively looked to the sky but whatever words he might have spoken at that moment were blasted from his mind by the enormity of what he saw.

A gigantic ball of white-hot fire streaked across the heavens, coming directly at Carmel from the northwest, trailing a fabulous tail of smoke and flame. Everyone was on their faces now, even the stupefied priests of Ba'al, all whimpering and crying in abject terror. The object thundered high across the skies, a shrieking din blasting in its wake, and as it rocketed above Carmel, a tremendous flash shot from its head and screamed to the ground, smashing into the altar with a tremendous explosion. Instantly, altar, sacrifice, water, and Ba'alite priests were consumed in the fiery blast, and the concussion threw boulders in every direction. Miraculously, no one was killed from the flying debris. Pinned to the wall from the force of the blast, only Amonhotpe was left standing to see the thing streak out of sight, and as it passed from view all his stupified mind could think of was the Egyptian hieroglyph for life and truth - the ANKH - shooting across the heavens on its side. He remained staring in the direction in which the object had disappeared long after a sense of normalcy returned to the scene, and only came out of his stupor when the first heavy drops of rain pounded his face. His nearly shattered mind reached an inescapable conclusion at that moment: with the slaughter of the Ba'alite priests and the return of His people to His worship, Yahweh had mercifully released them from the agony of the drought.

He shuddered as Elijah and Paren-nefer gently assisted him into the cave. "A god who brings death and destruction, then delivers life," he thought, and as he fell into an exhausted slumber he mumbled: "A powerful god, Elijah, powerful indeed..."



For many days afterward, Amonhotpe sat in Elijah's cave, listening to the ravens while thoughtfully munching figs, or rocking to and fro while deep in the throes of ecstatic meditation. Paren-nefer worried constantly about his young charge, fervently wishing that Amon-hotep, the blind seer, had come with them. As fearful of his former master as Paren-nefer was, he held Amon-hotep's wisdom and characteristic insight in great esteem, and felt naked and helpless without the seer's knowledge. He had become especially frightened one night while, during an especially deep meditation, the prince had begun mouthing the names of gods only vaguely known to him - Atum, Temu, and Neb-er-Tcher - along with the more familiar Auset (Isis), Asar (0siris), and the sun-god of Heliopolis, the Aten. What was happening to his master he could not even guess, and was greatly relieved when Elijah returned from Ahab's court.

"I am afraid," the prophet informed them, "that my life is now forfeit. Ahab has spoken to Jezebel about what happened here and already her assassins are searching for me. They will be here soon."

"Where will you go, Elijah?" asked Amonhotpe.

"Go? Ha! I don't know! Where Yahweh directs me, it is there that I shall go! I am His prophet, and His voice! What He wills, I shall do! But, then, what of you? You cannot stay here." The emerald eye flashed.

Amonhotpe considered but a moment. "I cannot return to Kemet, Elijah. The time is not right, and I am not ready. Since I cannot remain here, I must continue my journey."

"Yes, you speak truly, young Naphuria, far more truly than you know." He got to his feet, nodding slowly to himself, and went to the cave entrance where he stared mournfully at the setting sun. "All journeys, however, once undertaken, never really end." He lapsed into silence, collecting his thoughts. "Depart after sundown, Naphuria. You will be safe until then. But exercise great caution in Assyria. If they discover who you are, you will know things that would make death preferable."

"Why should we wish to go there?"

The prophet turned, the brightness of his mystic orb filling the cave. "One must pass through Assyria in order to reach Mitanni," he said quietly.