Part 1, Chapter 2

ch. 2: from the works of Thoth, "Servant of the One"



Since the most ancient of days, the priests of Ra-Horakhte - "Ra-on-the-Horizon" - had maintained two oracles: one at Heliopolis, in the main temple, and the other at the Sanctuary of the Great Sphinx at Gizeh. All manner of questions could be asked by all classes of persons, for a price, and the more extravagant and expensive the offering, the more benevolent the response. Sometimes the oracles were consulted by the king in regards to the royal succession and the priests were careful to give favorable responses for in the Old and Middle Kingdoms, the Pharaohs' capital cities were in the Delta region, and an ill-considered answer would mysteriously bring new voices to the oracles.

When Ahmose's 18th Dynasty emerged triumphant from the war against the Hyksos, the oracles were resurrected as part of an overall program to restore the traditions of Kemet. They quickly grew in power and popularity and soon came to dominate the royal house. In the New Kingdom, the capital was far up the Nile at Thebes and the oracle at Heliopolis was relatively safe from the monarch's control. Its power grew, unchecked, until the Heliopolitan priests decided that a woman, Ma’at-Ka-Re Khnumt-Amon Hatshepsowe (Hatshepsut), should ascend the throne. They fully realized that the last time a woman had been placed on the throne, the monarchy had been seriously weakened. But Hatshepsowe was the only member of the royal house at the time with any potential at all for the kingship and the choice was initially a good one, bringing Kemet power and prosperity greater than she had ever known.

But the affair with Solomon had caused her downfall, and in the schism which followed, those members of the Brotherhood who had supported her were identified with the "radical" oracle of Heliopolis which had placed her on the throne. No one knew who had started the propaganda but her successor, Menkheper-Re Dhutmose (Thutmose III), did nothing to stop it. He had offered himself to the priests of Amon as Kemet's savior, and with their help had secured the throne. In gratitude, he built a sphinx oracle for Amon at Thebes and made it superior to Ra-Horakhte's. From then on, though the king would consult the Heliopolis oracle for news of the royal succession as tradition demanded, he would first go to the oracle at Thebes. When the choice had been made, word would go forth, and by the time the king came to Heliopolis, the priests knew what answer would be expected. Dhutmose's destruction of Hatshepsowe's monuments had made abundantly clear what would happen if a wrong answer was given...





Year 881:



When Neb-ma'Re Amonhotpe III assumed the double crown, the priests of Amon came to him clamoring for the reduction and removal of the Heliopolitan oracle. "My lord," said Aanen, “As High Priest of Amon, I declare that this august sun-god is supreme throughout the land. He rises each day in the Userhetamon, travelling across the sky; there are none to oppose him. There is no need for this secondary oracle. In the name of the Lord of All, I ask you to remove it."

Amonhotpe gazed down from the throne at Ay's younger brother. How a man with such arrogance had risen to the post of High Priest of Amon the king could not imagine. He'd always thought of priests as humble men with bent shoulders and bad knees resulting from too much bowing and praying. He sighed. This was going to be more difficult than he had anticipated. "My lord High Priest, the northern oracle does not contradict us at all. Have they not agreed to the accession of myself to the throne? Surely you realize that they are told what answer to give."

"But there is a danger here! Conceivably, Heliopolis could declare you unfit and attempt to place another on the throne! What would you do in that regard, lord? Surely you would not risk a war with our own countrymen!"

The king growled in the back of his throat and all who were present that day never forgot that he sounded exactly like a full-grown lion. "Aanen, in such a case, our northern brothers would be guilty of starting a civil war - and would be dealt with accordingly, of course. But I hardly think that that is a matter for concern. As I have said, these oracles know better than to do something so foolish, and besides, they are immensely popular with the people. Need I point out that I also enjoy the trip downriver to Heliopolis, and that it is part of my sacred duty to insure that our main administrative center for the northern provinces functions efficiently, and that this efficiency is re-enforced by my august presence? Aanen, are you certain that you are not secretly trying to continue Amon's feud with Heliopolis?"

The High Priest of Amon stared blankly, as though he had just been run through with a spear. The king's reaction had not been anticipated and Aanen felt doubly foolish for allowing himself to be caught flat-footed. He struggled for composure, feeling the flush in his face in spite of himself. "No, my king, of course not. I seek, as always, to protect my Pharaoh."

Amonhotpe nodded. "The northern oracle stays. It shall be done."

Aanen bowed and retired from the throne room, followed by his retinue. In the corridor, several members of his entourage began jabbering excitedly but Aanen cut them short with a swift gesture. Once outside and away from the palace, Aanen turned and spoke in a hushed whisper. "My brothers, I believe that the wrong man sits on the throne."

The jabbering flared anew but was quieted this time by Aanen's aide, Asherti. "Aanen, you know we cannot risk an open rebellion. Nobody wants a civil war. But this man has snubbed both you and the lord Amon! What is to be done about it?"

"Do not concern yourself with what the king has said to me,” the High Priest replied through clenched teeth. “That shall be dealt with by others. As for deposing this king, you are right - we cannot now risk it. We would be blamed for the same fault that lies potentially with the northern oracle - and that would make us look like hypocrites in the eyes of the people. No, my brothers, we must be patient - we must watch and wait for an opportunity to bring this king to his knees. But pray and sacrifice daily to Amon that we may endure. And we shall endure, my brothers – it is we hold the keys to the Oracle of Amon at Thebes! For what can Pharaoh do without the approval of Amon and His priests?"





Year 880:



The feast had ended. Amonhotpe patted his overly-full stomach and stole an admiring glance at Tiy as the servants began clearing away the remains. The Great Wife had fallen asleep on his lap and as he stroked her shoulder affectionately, the young king smiled. Normally, a birthday party for the prince of the realm would have been handled by the ladies of the court, but it was the boy's first and Tiy had insisted on doing much of the work herself. Her decision had initially caused great consternation among the palace staff - the chief cook had argued vehemently that the gods had not given Kemet a queen just so she could work in the kitchen like a common woman - but Tiy had naturally gotten her way. Amonhotpe chuckled in remembrance. He had observed, bemused, as Tiy had swept through the royal kitchens, scrutinizing even the smallest details to make sure that everything was just so. As bedlam had ensued, the king had had to stay behind and mollify the servants as best he could, but he had not been able to keep a straight face and his resultant convulsions of hilarity had caused as great a commotion as had his wife's actions. Complete order had not been restored until Amon-hotep the seer had been called to the scene - /amazing the way people responded to him/ the king reflected - and the rest of the preparations had gone smoothly. And now the queen, Amonhotpe's beloved, had collapsed on him, exhausted, in a dreamless yet peaceful slumber.

A joyous shout came from the garden's small pool. The king's brother-in-law, Ay, a sturdy lad of fourteen, stood in the cool, waist-deep water playing with the prince. He lifted the child high over his head, then with a swooping dive, dunked him to his shoulders and swung him high into the air again. Amonhotpe lazily wondered who was having more fun.

"Ah, my prince," cried Ay, "then there was Horus, the Great Falcon. Do you know how he flies? Like this! Wheee!"

Splash! But this time, Ay brought the child down too fast and the boy was submerged. But Ay brought him up quickly and little Dhutmose emerged screaming and burbling with delight, as though begging for more. Ay laughed too and was about to dunk him again when a stern voice called him. "I think that is enough for now, Ay. It is late and the prince needs his rest."

"Not now, 'Father'! Dhutmose and I are having too much fun! Aren't we, little one?" He tossed the soaked child in the air and caught him as the toddler gurgled with laughter.

The seer shook his head, smiling inwardly. "Be careful, Ay, those 'little ones' are infectious. Get too close to them and you'll start wanting a few of your own!" He unfolded a large linen sheet. "Now come, I must dry off the royal heir."

Ay stepped out of the pool and delivered the child into the seer's gentle hands. "Like you, I suppose?"

"Hrumph?" the seer grunted, trying to corral to squirming infant.

"'Like you', I said. 'Wanting a few of your own'?' He winked at the king. "How long are we going to have to wait for the new High Priest of the Brotherhood, Amon-hotep? You're almost seventy, you know."

"And I can do twice as much as men half my age, young man, as you should be well aware." the seer snapped. "Now dry off and run along. It's past your bedtime as well."

Ay shrugged and grabbed a fresh linen sheet. He wrapped it around himself and after making obeisance to the king and kissing his sister, he departed. Tiy stirred and stretched. Sensing that the queen had awakened, the seer brought her son to her and laid him in her arms. "Did I hear my brother teasing you just now, Amon-hotep?" she murmured, gently rocking the child to sleep.

"Yes, Majesty, but do not let it trouble you. Ay is fine young man and will be a strong and reliable servant in the house of Pharaoh - and little Pharaoh!" he added as he tickled the baby's chin.

"Hush now, stop that!" the queen laughed, playfully slapping his wrist. "Dhutmose will never sleep if you keep playing with him!"

"And neither will his mother if she insists on supervising his meals!" the king rejoined. Tiy sniffed and raised her nose in imperial indignation, causing her husband to dissolve in huge gales of laughter.

Tiy rose. "You men may stay out her and cackle all night if you wish but it is late and Dhutmose and I are tired and must get some sleep. Good night."

"She is a fine young woman, Majesty." the seer remarked after the queen had gone. "You have chosen well."

The king laughed afresh. "Come, Amon-hotep, you've been saying that for the last six years. Stop salving my ego. What do you really think of her?"

The seer turned to him. "Exactly what I have said. If I thought differently I would have said so."

"Nonsense. Though you can be outspoken, you are be cautious as well, especially with me. The best servants of the king are those who are not afraid to speak what is in their hearts. You are renowned as one whose words are more than mere speech, Amon-hotep. Speak plainly to me. What do you think of the queen?"

"A beautiful form and a light-hearted personality mask a will and determination equal to your own. Do not let your love for her blind you to this. Wisdom and a loose but firm reign are needed if her strengths are not to eclipse yours."

"Tell me something I don't know!" the king snapped as he got to his feet. "She's my wife, remember?"

"You never let us forget it, Majesty. I do not insult your intelligence but rather remind you of what would best serve The Two Lands."

"I know. And I do not mean to be abrupt with you but it has been a long day and even kings grow tired. I must wish you good-night, Amon-hotep." With a huge yawn, he excused himself but at the entrance to the palace proper he stopped and turned. "Oh, and don't be upset with Ay. He may be brittle at times but he means well. I'm sure you have something in mind for the Brotherhood."

"Actually, Majesty, I don't at the moment but the boy is right. It is a matter to which I must devote a great deal of thought."

"Well, I'm sure you'll come up with the right answer. You usually do. Good night, again."

"Good-night, Majesty." The seer sat by the pool for several minutes, deep in thought then rose and entered the palace, nodding absently as the sentry rushed up to secure the door behind him. He had not sensed, nor had anyone seen, the pair of malevolent eyes in the gardens beyond the pool that had spied on the entire evening's activities...



Khaemwaset had just retired to his private quarters in the Brotherhood temple at Heliopolis when the peculiar feeling came over him. He tried to shrug it off but it persisted, clutching at the outer boundaries of his consciousness. Cautiously, he added some incense to the brazier, then extinguished the candles and began his meditations. Soon he was in deep relaxation but the curious feeling remained, as elusive as ever. He decided to seek out the answer on the astral plane.

He released his ka and surrounded it with a protective shield of spiritual energy. Soon he was dancing, free of his mortal self, swooping and darting amidst other spirits and planes of existence, eventually settling into the astral world. He viewed the realm as a broad, featureless plain stretching away into infinity, and when no other thoughts of how to proceed came to him, he began walking towards the far horizon, trusting his higher self to lead him to the answer.

Ahead of him a glittering ball of golden light suddenly came into view and Khaemwaset's ka hastened towards it. The ball grew larger and larger until it encompassed half the sky then shrank almost out of sight. It became a mere pinprick of light and danced in front of his face like a firefly on a hot summer's evening. It flitted about, darting to and fro, away from him then back again, but Khaemwaset stood and waited. He knew he was being shown a sign which, if he pursued it, would be driven away by his own energy. The tiny dot of light was a test of patience he knew he had to pass.

Presently, the light calmed and softly floated down to the tip of his nose where it metamorphosed into the most spectacular butterfly Khaemwaset had ever seen. Rippling hues of green and gold pulsed along its body as its lavender wings softly flapped in rhythm with its breathing. Its antennae seemingly bowed to him, then it flew off surrounded by a great white radiance. Khaemwaset followed, knowing that a butterfly was a symbol for the soul and that this one was connected to his curious sensation, but wondering whose soul was meant.

At length he came to the shore of an immense lake where the butterfly settled and vanished. Khaemwaset knelt in the sand where the colorful insect had disappeared and peered out at the rippling waves. Briefly, he considered utilizing Amon-hotep's method of gazing at reflected sunlight but realized that as there was no sun in the astral realm, there would be no reflection. Light was ubiquitous, but had no single source. As if reading his thoughts, the restless waters stilled and an image began to form on the surface. He was being shown a scene from the royal palace at Thebes the Gleaming. The image focused on the large rear portico where he could clearly see the remnants of a great feast but the entire area was deserted. Presently, two figures furtively stole from the building carrying a small child who looked to be quite dead. Khaemwaset's eyes grew in amazement as he recognized the garb of the priests of Amon. What was going on? But before he could give voice to his concern, the priests passed from view and the scene faded.

Another scene shimmered into view showing the same child, this time as a young man, being ordained as a Kheri-Heb in a Brotherhood temple by a priest who looked to be Khaemwaset himself. As understanding grew in Khaemwaset's mind, the scene faded and was replaced by a third vision in which the young Kheri-Heb stood facing the vacant throne of Egypt. Interposed between the two stood a radiant celestial figure holding an upraised flaming sword. This scene dissolved and the waters returned to normal. Khaemwaset murmured a short prayer of thanks to the Divine Source and instantly returned to his body.

He spent the next few hours in light meditation, reflecting on what had been shown to him, and gathering strength for what he knew would come next. When he fully awoke, he quickly arose and held an urgent conclave with his most trusted advisors. Then he hurried off into the night, the prayers and blessings of his fellow priests ringing in his ears. There was not a moment to lose. Khaemwaset had to be in Thebes, in secret, in less than two days.



Amen-messe, priest of Amon, nudged his slumbering companion, rousing him from a restless slumber. "Come, Brother, it is time we were about our business." he muttered. The other nodded and yawned, and the pair crept stealthily from the bushes. Everyone had long since departed the royal portico, even the sentries, and the priests crossed it without being observed. Forcing the door to the kitchen area, they silently entered the palace.

Here, they knew, no guards patrolled, and they had no difficulty passing through the scullery and pantry and crossing into the main part of the palace. They warily avoided the servants' quarters and for the most part stayed to the darker areas to avoid being seen. Their progress was painfully slow as they had to maintain the strictest silence and several times they froze in terror due to a sound which turned out to be nothing more than the prevailing night breeze off the Nile. But what delayed them most was a difference of opinion over which direction to take. The confusion worried Amen-messe - having been in the palace many times and having memorized the route, he simply could not understand how the darkness had confounded his sense of direction. His concern added anxiety to already-frayed nerves.

After an interminable stretch of time, they came at last to the west wing of the palace where Amen-messe knew the royal apartments to be situated. No sentries patrolled the corridor nor did any stand watch at the king's door. The two priests exchanged amazed glances - the Great God would certainly be owed a mammoth sacrifice for such a splendid gift! - and carefully entered the royal bedchambers.

They stopped just inside the doorway, allowing their eyes to become adjusted to the even dimmer light within. They stood stock still, hardly daring to breathe, and watched as Queen Tiy stirred fitfully while beside her Amonhotpe snored in contentment. Amen-messe grinned in spite of his fear. The king's sleeping habits would greatly amuse their fellow priests at the temple! A quick glance around the room showed him the crib in a shadowy corner. With agonizing slowness, he crept towards it and peered over the side.



IT WAS EMPTY...



For the space of a single, agonizing heartbeat, Amen-messe wondered furiously what had happened to the prince. Everyone knew that Tiy had insisted that her first-born always sleep in her chambers rather than in the royal nursery. But the priest realized that he could waste no time attempting to solve the puzzle. If the child were discovered while he and his fellow were still in the palace, their lives would surely be forfeit. Worse, there would be many embarrassing questions, one which the priests of Amon would prefer to avoid. Amen-messe grabbed his compatriot and ran into the corridor, hoarsely whispering what had happened. They dashed through the palace, heading for the kitchen area, and miraculously encountered no sentries. In their headlong flight, Amen-messe still had time to wonder why the prince was missing but could not come up with an answer. The dilemma continued to tear at his mind as he and his fellow priest flew out of the palace, raced across the portico, and vanished into the gardens beyond.



The sun was rising against the eastern desert, splashing myriad reds, golds, and oranges across the landscape, as Khaemwaset stepped into the small reed boat with his precious cargo. He pushed out from shore, imagining he could hear the beginnings of the uproar back at the Residence. Finding the trail of the Ammonite priests had been no difficult matter; once he had done so, he had trailed them to the Palace and watched silently as the celebration had come to an end. Hapu had taught him long ago the technique of influencing another's mind - a dangerous device, one to be used sparingly, and with respect - and once he had settled on a plan of action, he had sent out his mental force to suggest to the mind of the sentry by the pool that he was needed elsewhere. In predictable fashion, the two Ammonite priests had then broken into the kitchen area and Khaemwaset had followed them moments later. Once inside, he manipulated their minds into confusion, causing them to wander aimlessly and giving him time to proceed to the royal bedchambers ahead of them. A command similar to the one given to the sentry had caused the royal sentinels to leave their posts as well, and he had been able to enter undisturbed. He winced at the memory. He hoped the sentinels had had the good sense to flee when they came to their senses - with no good excuse for leaving the king's apartments unattended, they were as good as dead. Khaemwaset severely disliked putting innocents in jeopardy but there had been no other way. As much as he hated putting one soul's importance ahead of another's, the prince had had to be rescued at all costs, and if two soldiers had to be sacrificed in order to achieve that end, then it had to be done. But he did not like it. Happily, little Dhutmose had slept through the entire affair but once safely on the portico, Khaemwaset had taken no chances. Hearing the renegade priests running madly behind him, a final mystic command had sent the child into a deep slumber as he melted into the shadows just before Amen-messe and his companion had swept by, never suspecting their presence. Khaemwaset had waited a brief moment, then had followed their trail through the broken papyrus plants - smiling grimly at the irony of it - and had reached the marshes without further incident.

He poled the craft out into the Nile until it was caught by the current, then rigged its sail. He wanted to get as far away from Thebes as possible before the inevitable search parties were sent out, then land and go into hiding, thenceforth traveling by night. Mental manipulation was a powerful tool in limited cases, but against a large party whose emotions would be running high due to a powerful goal deeply etched in their minds, it would be less than useless. It had been whispered that perhaps two or three living souls in all of history had possessed that kind of power; certainly, none were extant now. As the fragile craft skimmed lightly over the waves, he lay back and relaxed for the first time in many hours. He hoped Hapu would be waiting for him at Ahmose's secret chapel.



"Did you have any trouble?"

"None, Master Hapu, not even from the priests of Amon."

"You were not seen, then?"

"No."

"You have performed well, my disciple, in undertaking such a dangerous task. This old one is very proud of you!"

"I thank you, Master Hapu, But the Divine was with me - indeed, it had ordained this enterprise - so all went well." Khaemwaset rubbed his belly. "I am famished. Let us talk over a meal."

Ahmose's subterranean chapel was lit only by a small lamp set in an alabaster jar and Khaemwaset watched thoughtfully as his companion rose to fetch his belongings. Two long days of steady sailing, designed to put as many leagues as possible between himself and the king's search parties, had left him exhausted and starving. He had stopped only to procure water for the child, not daring to risk stopping for solid food. He had been immensely relieved to find Hapu at the chapel waiting for him not only with food and drink, but with a trusted nurse in attendance who rocked and cooed the child to sleep in a corner as they spoke. Hapu opened his worn leather bags and brought forth bread and dried fish; a nearby goatskin contained strong Memphite beer. Both fell to, as Hapu was as hungry as Khaemwaset. He had not eaten himself since setting out from Heliopolis, so concerned had he been with Khaemwaset's undertaking.

At length, Hapu looked up from his victuals. "And now, my disciple, perhaps you will enlighten these aged ears with the full story of your theft?"

"Which I am sure you have no doubt deduced, venera¬ble master!" Khaemwaset's eyes twinkled fondly.

"Nevertheless, confirm what I am thinking. Dhutmose is not to sit on the throne of Kemet? Why should this be so? He incarnated into royalty, did he not?"

"That is so. I am not certain but I sense the hand of another in this."

"Another? Who?"

"He is not carnate, Hapu, he directs this - operation - from beyond. The way to authority is being made open for us, of that I am sure, though as yet I do not see how."

Hapu smiled and took a mighty swallow from the goatskin. "You don't? That is simplicity itself. This incident will further divide the royal house and the priests of Amon. Ra-Horakhte has no quarrel with the king but Amon does. Thus, Amon will be blamed. No proof will be found, of course, but this will not stop enmity from growing between Pharaoh and Amon. Perhaps the king will back us completely then."

"We both know that he can't." Khaemwaset countered. "Amon is in Thebes and too close to him. Shall Pharaoh move the capital - the Residence - to Heliopolis? That would surely bring civil war."

The older man's eyes narrowed as if in dawning recognition. "No," he said slowly, "Amonhotpe won't. But perhaps..."

"Perhaps what?" Khaemwaset stopped in mid-bite and stared over his food.

"You said, 'the way is being made open for us', did you not?"

Instantly, Khaemwaset understood. "And the one to come will make such a change and free the royal house from Amon forever!"

"But he could not do so if he had an older brother in line to the throne! Thus, our kidnapping of Thutmose, beyond preserving his life, serves two purposes!" Hapu finished, crowing triumphantly. He stole a glance at the child in the nurse's arms, now sleeping contentedly, and blissfully unaware. "But there is more at stake here than even this. In some manner that I cannot put into words, I feel that this incarnation is only the beginning for this child, perhaps for all of us. Do you too feel the weight of millions and millions of years upon your shoulders?"

Khaemwaset, in truth, did not. He felt utterly exhausted, as though he had just roared through a thousand-stadia race. And with each bite, he fell more and more into fatigue. His mind would no longer focus on Hapu's words, and turned its attention to more pragmatic matters, such as getting to Heliopolis unobserved. "We must finish our meal, Hapu, then rest and be on our way." he said, more sharply then he had intended, then gave in to his feeling and noisily crunched through an orange to emphasize his point.

But his master seemed not to hear him. "He is ELECT, Khaemwaset, a soul of Destiny! This undertaking is just the beginning, a testing ground, not only for him but for the unseen one who directs the pattern." He swung back to the younger man, his eyes aflame with amazement, and his next words were out of his mouth before he knew he had uttered them: "And for you, for my son, and perhaps one or two others." He sat in reverence for a moment, enraptured by the wonder and expanse of his vision, looking off into space. "'Just the beginning'," he repeated over and over in the barest of whispers.

Khaemwaset regarded him thoughtfully, recalling prophesies Amon-hotep had made long ago. How pitifully small and insignificant they suddenly seemed when compared to the cosmic scale of time to which Hapu had just alluded! He gazed in wonder at the sleeping child and began to experience a distinctly uncomfortable weight descend upon his own shoulders...



The ensuing years gradually forced the seer's conscious attention away from the problem but it was never far from his inner mind. Even the pressing matters of state which kept him a virtual prisoner in Thebes - the always tenuous relations with Israel and Judah, the rising might of Assyria to the northeast, and the administration of the Theban branch of the Brotherhood, along with his not-always-successful attempts to keep it free from political entanglements - failed to cause him to forget that Khaemwaset was central to the matter. His gloomy mood was not enhanced when, as time crept by, his friend failed to answer his embassies; indeed, he failed to contact Amon-hotep in any way. More than anything else in that period, Khaemwaset's utter silence caused the seer's greatest concern. The lack of communication was a virtual admission of guilt yet Amon-hotep could not bring himself to believe that his childhood friend might be the perpetrator of an unspeakable crime.

Those same years had also seen the birth of a new royal child, the Princess Sit-Amon. Hopes for a boy had run high, of course, and though the birth was accorded all due pomp and celebration, the rejoicing was muted and subdued, as though the mere presence of a girl-child made even more poignant the loss of Dhutmose. Amid the bittersweetness of the event, the seer did his best to keep the royal family's spirits high. His knowledge and great compassion served him well, and gradually the household recovered its natural gaiety and warmth. His only failure was with Ay. The young man continued his proud, correct bearing, preferring to go about his duties without frivolity. Worse, he would hardly go near the princess, let alone play with her as he had with Dhutmose. He kept his distance and remained aloof, as though he resented the girl's very existence and somehow blamed her for her brother's disappearance. Amon-hotep grieved for him, feeling acutely the boy's pain, and silently cursed his inability to return him to his former happy self. He often thought of life's pitilessness when he spoke with Ay.



Year 875:





Paren-nefer, overseer of servants in the house of Amon-hotep, was the one who brought him the news. While still on his knees, his bald head touching the tiled floor, he spoke. "The message is from Khaemwaset, lord. Your father, Hapu, is very ill and has convinced himself that he will soon die. He greatly wishes to see his son before he delivers himself over to the Abode of the Dead."

The seer hesitated only an instant. Whatever the man's politics, Hapu was still his father. "I must make my apologies to Pharaoh." he said quickly. "Come."

The audience with the king was brief. Though distressed by the news, Pharaoh Amonhotpe sent him on his way with messages of greeting and the well-wishes of the entire court; expensive gifts would soon follow. The king also lent him the exclusive use of the royal barge named for the Aten, both to speed his way and to do honor to Hapu's beliefs. In the company of Paren-nefer, a deeply saddened Amon-hotep set sail downriver.

Upon his arrival at the temple in Heliopolis, he was greeted by a somber Khaemwaset, accompanied by a retinue of grieving officials. Men more blind than he did not have to be told the reason - his father had departed while he was still on the river. No words were spoken between the two old friends as they embraced and shared each other's sorrow. During the ritual seventy days of mourning which followed, Amen-hotep often sat in deep meditation, purging his soul of the pain of the disagreements he had had with Hapu, and entreating the Diving Source for forgiveness. He was not certain if he had succeeded but at the funeral he was relaxed and at a measure of peace with himself, and all those who attended marvelled at his composure.

For several days after his father's burial in the crypt beneath the temple, Amon-hotep lingered at Heliopolis. He found a quiet peace walking through the vast temple precincts with its lofty columns and long massive walls covered with brightly-colored hieroglyphs, and through the hidden, shadowy spaces which fairly whispered comfort and serenity. /How like the peace of transition/, he would often muse while strolling among the many irrigated gardens where ducks and wild geese honked and scolded one another amid papyrus and lotus plants, /when we are finally released from the weight of this flesh so that we may spiral ever upward toward reunion with the Creator/. He longed deeply for that kind of serenity, finding only a temporary haven amid the cyclopean constructions of the Heliopolis temple.

In the course of his meanderings, he would occasion¬ally pass by classes given by the scribes and sages of the temple, classes not unlike the ones he and Khaemwaset had attended in ages gone by. One afternoon, while pausing to listen to a particularly admirable lecturer, he heard a student answer a question in a voice that somehow seemed intensely familiar to him, a voice at once aged and child-like. Try as he might, the seer could not get the voice out of his mind, as though the sound of it had reached inside of him and physically restrained him. /This is ridiculous/, he grumbled to himself, getting up to leave. /My imagination is running rampant. I had better be getting back to Thebes/.

But each time the seer heard the youthful voice - and he did often, for he was drawn irresistibly back with each successive day - he was drawn more and more to its owner. Discovering the identity of the speaker soon became an obsession with him. He would not return to Thebes until he had solved the mystery.

"I believe I know which student you mean, Amon-hotep." Khaemwaset replied one evening to his friend's inquiry. The pair were seated in Khaemwaset's private meditation chamber, just off the main sanctum of the temple. “He is a youngster who came to us about five years ago and soon exhibited such remarkable growth that I had to place him in an advanced class with students two and three times his age."

"I see," the seer nodded, more than a little amazed. "Exactly how old is he, then?"

"Six."

The seer felt the hairs at the nape of his neck begin to perform a peculiar dance, accompanied by a churning sensation within his bowels. "Six?" he echoed, not at all liking the sound of his own voice. He began drumming his fingers nervously on the table in front of him as his peculiar feeling grew in intensity. He would describe it later as perceiving a door which opens and too quickly shuts, leaving one without resources to describe what one has seen or felt. "Indeed," he said at length, oblivious to Khaemwaset's soft smile. "That is most remarkable, my old friend. I recall that a certain king's son disappeared five years ago on the first anniversary of his birth. If he still lives, he would now be six years old. Should I ascribe this to mere coincidence?"

"Not at all, Amon-hotep, for we each have our roles to play in the cosmic drama, though we may not know it. Yes, this boy is the king's son, Dhutmose, and my part in his life's path was to rescue him for his very existence was in great danger from the Amonnite priesthood. He has an important destiny to fulfill, though what it is exactly, I do not know. We have taken him into our hearts here and raised him as one of us. Hapu and I discussed your coming here shortly before he died and we both felt that the boy's fate is inexorably bound to yours. It was your father's wish that you adopt Dhutmose and make him your successor."

The seer trembled with excitement and wonder. The crown prince was alive after all! And here in Heliopolis, in the care of his father and his best friend! He had been right about Khaemwaset, but hardly in the way he had thought. Instead of an unspeakable crime, his friend had rendered the greatest service imaginable! "I would see him, Khaemwaset!" he cried. "Send for him at once, please!"

Khaemwaset held up his hand. "In a moment. First, I must tell you that though we call him both Thoth and Dhutmose, he does not know who his real parents are. We have told him that he was given to us as an offering by a peasant woman, presumably because she could no longer care for him properly. The only life he knows is here at the temple and he knows nothing of the royal house."

"You have told him nothing of his heritage?"

"No. It was our decision, Hapu's and mine. He is not meant to sit on the throne, of that we are certain, and we felt he would come to his true destiny sooner if he was not burdened by a desire to return to Thebes."

"Yet if I adopt him, he must return there."

"I know. But do not let him discover his connections to royalty for that would lead him away from his correct path! His fate now lies in your hands, Amon-hotep. In a better place I could not wish it to be." He arose and went to the doorway where he summoned a temple servant. "Bring the orphan Dhutmose to me at once. Tell him I have a surprise for him."

"Yes, lord." The servant made obeisance and departed.

"Very few know of the boy's true origin." Khaemwaset added as he returned to the seer. "Beyond your father and myself, only the Inner Temple here at Heliopolis, knows. And now, of course, so do you." He leaned forward and continued, his voice dropping dramatically. "I cannot emphasize this last point too greatly, old friend. The boy is destined for greatness but he must accomplish many tasks in this life before he can proceed to other, more important lives. I entrust his life path and in so doing, the future of his very soul, to your hands. You understand what this means?"

"Of course. It means that I am being tested also, to prove to the Divine Source that I, too, am worthy of a higher path. Perhaps this is what my childhood visions were all about."

Khaemwaset shrugged. "That I do not know. But if we have faith, and work diligently, all will be revealed to us." Inwardly, however, he smiled, his heart glowing as brightly as the noon-time sun. His dear friend, so often called blind, was as wise and discerning as ever.

Six-year-old Thoth was ushered into the chamber at that moment and Amon-hotep's senses were immediately struck by the boy's mature bearing. Sparkling brown eyes complemented a thin-lipped mouth which seemed wrapped in a perpetual half-smile. /His pointed chin/ the seer thought, /deserves the beard of Asar (Osiris)/. The rest of Thoth's body was concealed by a white linen robe, usually reserved for acolytes of the higher ranks, signifying that he had already attained a level of study not realized by either Khaemwaset or the seer himself until they had reached their late teens. Amon-hotep was both impressed and awed, and his mind was rife with speculation as to what kind of pharaoh the young Dhutmose would have made.

"You have sent for me, Master Khaemwaset?" the boy asked rhetorically after making obeisance to his mentor.

"Yes, Thoth. I wanted you to meet my good friend, Amon-hotep, the son of the Kheri-Heb, Hapu. He has been asking to speak with you."

"I am deeply honored, my lord." Thutmose bowed low and refused to look into the seer's face. "My condolences on the passage of your esteemed father to the Land of the Dead."

"I thank you," the seer murmured, nodding slightly. The quiet yet powerful voice moved him deeply and reminded him of his own mentor, Ineni. With a sudden shock, he realized that he had not given thought to the High Priest in over twenty years.

"To what do I owe my good fortune, my lord, that such an illustrious one such as yourself would wish to speak with me?"

The seer rose and went over to where the boy stood, still with his eyes averted. "My name is Amon-hotep," he said quietly. "Do not be afraid to call me so, and do not be afraid to look at me directly. I acknowledge your respect, which does you great honor, but it is unnecessary. Look straight at me." Slowly, uncertainly, young Dhutmose did so. The seer broke into a wide grin and grasped the purple tassel of the boy's robe, intertwining it with his own. "The rank you bear at such a tender age commands me to do you respect!" And the aged seer bowed low to the young boy.

The lad flushed. "I am but a humble student in the service of the Temple of Heliopolis!" he protested. "I am not worthy that such a one as you should bow to me!"

Amon-hotep straightened and, laughing, clapped the boy on the shoulder. "Then we are agreed! Neither shall bow to the other and each shall treat the other as an equal! Now, my young friend, how would you like to accompany me on my return to Thebes?" Standing nearby and watching the byplay with an air of detached amusement, Khaemwaset did not fail to apprehend the irony in his friend's last remark.

Thoth's eyes lit up and his air of maturity instantly vanished. "Thebes?" he cried. "The Capital? The Residence? Can I? Master Khaemwaset, let me go with Amon-hotep! Please!"

"But of course, little one." Khaemwaset laughed. "I think it is time you experienced the world outside our Temple." He thought a moment, then turned to the seer. "When do you think you will want to leave?"

"As soon as I can, actually. I have delayed too long already."

"Wait one more day. Thoth will want to say good-bye to his teachers and classmates."

"Yes, of course. And the three of us shall dine together tomorrow evening, then Thoth and I shall depart on the first light of the following morning. Will that be satisfactory?"

"Splendid! Let us go to the main Temple and offer prayers for your safe journey, then retire early. Tomorrow, I suspect, shall be a long day for all of us."

As the pair exited the chamber, Khaemwaset's heart glowed even brighter than before. Amon-hotep's seemingly-casual gesture entwining Khaemwaset's tassel with his own was not an innocuous gesture. To the contrary, it was a highly symbolic ritual act, commemorating the acceptance of a pupil by a master teacher, and binding their souls together for life. When performed in a Temple, the energy of the act was manifested on the higher planes as well, bonding teacher and student far beyond time and space. Khaemwaset could not have been more pleased. The gesture, deliberately performed for his benefit, signified Amon-hotep's willingness to embrace his responsibilities in the matter, whatever they might be. He made a mental note to offer special prayers and incense for his beloved friend.



The trio did indeed share the evening meal of the following day but hardly in the manner they had anticipated. A surprise farewell celebration was given for Thoth by his instruc¬tors, and virtually all the students and staff of the temple complex joined together in the forecourt to wish him well. Under flaring torches and colorful pennants, a great banquet was held, followed by games and athletic contests. The festivities lasted far into the night and only when the younger students were about to collapse from exhaustion did Khaemwaset call a halt to the activities. He gathered all the celebrants into a vast circle, with Amon-hotep on his left and Thoth on his right, and led the assembly in meditation and prayers for Thoth's safety and good fortune. The soft sounds of their chanting and the sweet aroma of the incense drifted through the cool night under a glowing full moon, wending their way through the temple precincts and into the streets of the nearby villages, bringing comfort and serenity to all the inhabitants. When the service was done, the seer found that Thoth had fallen asleep, as had many of the participants. He gently picked the child up and silently carried him to his own quarters. He laid the boy down on his own bed, then stretched himself out on the rough-hewn floor. Inhaling deeply of the still-lingering incense and with the vibrant chanting still reverberating through his mind, he lazily slipped into a vision-less slumber.