That night, in the deep sleep that quickly overcame him, the gods and Pharaohs of the ancient Egyptians had visited him, one by one. It was a truly regal farewell; after all was said and done, he could have expected nothing less. He had welcomed them into his bedroom, colours sparkling about every one of them as they drifted through from wall to wall. He had recognised some of them and there were a few notable absentees. Tutankhamen was among these. That he found most curious.
With the advent of the pale light of dawn, the eternally energetic and lustful cocks of Luxor town awakened Carter without mercy. He had got to bed past twelve that night after a truly sumptuous dinner and, after falling asleep, had not contemplated waking.
Moaning just a little, he rolled himself out of bed and pulled on his dressing gown. He walked over to the window, placed his hands on the sill and leaned out. Outside, rich clusters of maroon and amber dates hung from great umbrellas of palm fronds. The broad, arching, herringbone leaves fluttered in the breeze, giving momentary glimpses of the Nile below. Beyond the river, the unmistakable skyline of the wall of rocks that protected The Valley of the Kings shone brilliantly in the horizontal light of early morning. The great bowl of rock which cradled the lavish temples of Hatshepsut, of Mentuhotep, and of Tuthmosis – they gleamed together like many ivory teeth embedded within the jawbone of the limestone escarpment.
He soaked in the view. In his heart he knew he could not, would not, touch those rocks again. There was no energy any more. From now on, it would all be memories; nothing but memories.
There was a knock at the door.
An excerpt from Tutankhamun Uncovered, by Michael J. Marfleet.
Copyright 2009-2010 Michael J. Marfleet. All rights reserved.
Published by Apex Publishing Ltd.
