Work in Progress
The temple complex was old, as old as the city itself; and the city itself was old beyond counting. In its initial expansion, Aegyptus had conquered the lands up to the Red Sea and since held them against all attempts to wrestle them away. At times, the armies of Judea or Babylon had come close and then the priests had packed up and left; but soon returned once the threat had receded.
The torches set next to the pathway flickered, highlighting the ancient hieroglyphs carved into the stone columns, whose caps were lost in the night. A gentle breeze made the flames waver and the shadows danced, seemingly alive. Weak-minded folk might have taken the spectres as the tormented souls of the long-buried builders come back to haunt the living. Such was the superstition and fear of the people of Thebes that none would dream of approaching the place of worship after sunset.
In his desire to get to the inner sanctuary, Thoth-Set hurried along the paved path between the pillars oblivious to a spectacle he’d witnessed many times. The summons had been explicit. He was required at once. It had to be grave for him to be disturbed in the middle of the night. He mentally went over the various possibilities. The hem-coven’s schemes were much like a net, if one part broke, there were other strands that could be pursued. There was one exception. Someone had betrayed them, and this had allowed Tiki to escape. He’d done what he could to repair the damage but still her flight rankled him. Despite his inquisitions, he still hadn’t found out who’d alerted her bodyguard. His spies had quickly informed him of her plans, but it had been too late by the time he’d gathered his assassins. It was but two weeks that he’d been forced to act precipitously as the ship she’d taken drifted out to sea on the current. The spell he’d cast that night had left him bedridden for three days. Treachery and being shown up to be weak were two things he’d never forgive the betrayer. When he finally caught up with him, the man would suffer a horrible and prolonged death.
His attention was drawn to the entrance to the inner part of the temple. There, two guards stood impassive. They might have been twins. Massive men with heavy staffs. He could sense their eyes were on him. He marched towards and then past them. They didn’t seek to stop him.
He proceeded into the hypostyle. After the jasmine scented night air, the interior smelled musty from the whiff of incense. Only two lamps held the gloom at bay, one near the entrance, the other at the far end. Most of his walk would be in darkness. His footsteps echoed as he made for the far glow where the pit was.
As he got nearer, a form detached itself from the ombre and blocked the door. Like the guards at the door, it held a long staff. Another guard. But the thought struck him: they weren’t allowed into the inner parts.
Thoth-Set didn’t break his stride and kept walking towards the door and the light. When he got closer the light didn’t blind him and, with a shock, he recognised the face of the individual in front of him. Theop, a wab priest who served Hem-Netjer-Tepi. What the high priest was doing sending his apprentice to meet him, he’d no idea. He knew the way intimately; he didn’t need an escort.
“Theop, what are you doing blocking my way? Stand aside.”
Theop raised the staff and commanded, “You are not to enter.” It was a threat.