Fight of the Falcon God

by Dan Hunter

  “Which one?”

  “The one that bears your name, and waits to receive you!”

  His own tomb? An awful feeling came over Akori, as if scarabs were crawling under his skin.

  “Open the door to your own burial chamber. Inside is a coffin, ready to take you to the Underworld. This bears a spell which you must recite. You must be there by sunset, or the spell will fail and our only chance will be lost.”

  “What about my kingdom?” Akori demanded, duty overcoming fear. “I’m Pharaoh now. I can’t just walk away from my people! Someone will have to take care of Egypt while I’m gone.”

  “You will find just the person for the job waiting outside,” Horus said, and for the first time since he had appeared he sounded amused. “I must leave you now. Good luck, my champion. May your journey be swift and safe.”

  And with that, Horus vanished.

  Akori rushed to the door and flung it open.

  “Hello, old friend,” smiled the wizened man who stood waiting for him. His eyes were blank, white and unseeing, but he knew Akori was there.

  Akori embraced him, delighted beyond words to see him again. Horus had been right. Who better to trust with running the kingdom than the old High Priest of Horus? Together, Akori and Manu gently led the old High Priest to a seat, and sat down on either side of him.

  “I’m so happy to see you again,” Akori said. “It’s been months.”

  “Surprised to see me too, by the sound of it,” the High Priest scoffed. “Thought I was ready for my tomb, did you? Well, I may be old, but they haven’t embalmed me yet, Ra be praised!” Then he smiled and patted Akori’s shoulder. “It is good to be here, Akori…My Pharaoh. And Manu, my worthy successor. I’m proud to help you. I just wish it could have been under happier circumstances.”

  “We all do,” said Manu with a shudder. “Osiris imprisoned, Set preparing an army of the dead… I can hardly believe it.”

  “We should leave as soon as possible,” said Akori.

  “Yes you should. But eat first,” said the old High Priest. “It might be the last chance you get for a long time.”

  As Pharaoh, Akori could call for a feast whenever he wanted. It only took moments for the servants to prepare tables laden with freshly-baked bread, olives, roast meats, grilled fish, heaps of grapes and figs.

  “Praise the Gods for the bounty of the earth,” the High Priest said, making a blessing sign.

  They all sat down. Akori reached straight for a roasted goose leg.

  “The Gods have been good to Egypt,” he said gratefully. “Now, everyone’s going to bed with full bellies. The grain stores are all overflowing, and the fish are practically jumping into the nets.”

  “Akori’s made sure to honour the Gods on their feast days,” Manu said, as if he wanted to reassure the old High Priest that he’d been doing his job properly.

  “They also tell me,” the High Priest said knowingly, “that the Pharaoh has taken better care of his kingdom’s farmers than any other Pharaoh in history. The Gods may make the seeds grow, Manu, but human workers sowed those seeds. Remember them, too, when you are thanking the Gods.”

  Manu turned as red as a boiled beetroot. “Of course,” he stammered.

  To spare his old friend’s feelings, Akori changed the subject. “Ebe would love a piece of that fish, wouldn’t she? I wish she was here.”

  Manu nodded. “Me too. I know it’s been months since she left us, but I still keep turning around and expecting to see her there.”

  “Because she always was there, when we needed her,” Akori said.

  “I miss her too,” the old High Priest said mournfully. “To think I always thought she was just a mute slave girl! And yet she was a Goddess all along – the Cat Goddess Bast in human form, accompanying you on your quest.”

  “She saved my life so many times,” Akori sighed. “Remember, Manu?”

  Manu began to count on his fingers. “That time you went to free Ra from the Snake Goddess Wadjet, Ebe turned into her giant cat form and fought her off. She fought hundreds of those mummies when we were trying to free Anubis. She almost got herself killed when we were freeing Isis from Sobek, the Crocodile God, and that horrible Frog Goddess wife of his. We wouldn’t have made it to Sekhmet’s prison without her help. She even chased off Anat and Astarte, Set’s demonic wives. And then—”

  “Then we had the hardest fight of all, against a whole army!” Akori cut in. “Outside this very palace!”

  “Ebe turned into her giant cat form before our eyes.”

  “I couldn’t believe what I was seeing!”

  “I can’t believe she isn’t coming with us this time,” Manu said gloomily. “Akori, I know Horus would never ask you to do the impossible, but…”

  “I know,” Akori said with a warning glance. He’d had the same thought. How could they hope to succeed with so little help?

  On their last quest, in which he’d had to free five of the great Gods of Egypt, Ebe had been with them the whole way, a disguised Goddess helping them secretly. Now she was gone, back among her fellow Gods. Not only that, but the gifts that the Gods had given Akori were gone, too. He would have to enter the Underworld without them. He wished he still had the Scarab of Anubis that could heal almost any wound, or the Ring of Isis to make himself invisible.

  But the Gods had needed to take their treasures back. Magic objects that were forged in the realm of the Gods could not stay in the world of men for long, or they would lose their power completely.

  At least I still have my sword, Akori thought. The golden khopesh, shaped like a large sickle, was his by right. Unlike the other treasures of the Gods, this one belonged to him alone; it was the sign he was Horus’s chosen champion. That enchanted sword had slashed through solid iron as easily as hacking down a reed.

  “Well, one thing’s for certain,” Manu said, picking at his food. “We can’t tell the people of Egypt that their Pharaoh is off to the Underworld to battle the dark Gods. They’d panic.”

  “We need a cover story,” Akori said. “We could tell them I’m ill.”

  “Nobody would believe that,” Manu scoffed. “You did your ceremonial run at the coronation, to prove your fitness!”

  Manu was right. Tradition demanded that the Pharaoh perform a run around his entire lands, to show he was fit enough to rule the kingdom.

  “Perhaps an official trip?” the old High Priest suggested. “Akori could be visiting relatives in the far south.”

  “I don’t have any relatives,” protested Akori. “Uncle Shenti was the only family I ever knew and he’s dead.”

  “But you are from a distant branch of the royal family. Maybe Manu could find an old scroll somewhere in the archives, showing relatives you never knew you had?”

  “I’m sure I can fake – sorry, I mean find – something like that,” said Manu with a wink.

  Akori nodded. “Good. It’s settled, then. Let’s quickly gather our provisions and leave right away.”

  The news spread quickly through the palace. The Pharaoh was leaving, taking only Manu, the High Priest with him. Some sort of journey to visit royal relatives, blessed by Horus himself.

  Alone in his royal chamber, Akori rummaged through his racks of clothes. Then he found what he was looking for and held it up triumphantly. A plain, dark cloak. He put it on. It completely covered up the gleaming coat of armour Horus had given him. Akori looked at himself in a polished metal mirror. “Now I look just like any other Egyptian,” he said to himself. “Good. The last thing I want is someone recognizing me on the way. Especially when I’m supposed to be at the other end of the country.”

  Filled with fresh confidence, he grabbed his khopesh and slipped out through a back door, making his way quickly through the corridors. Only the moon-eyed palace cats watched his departure; and, as is the way of cats, they said nothing about it to anyone.

  The palace’s rear doors were so rarely used, Akori had expected to find the passage dark and deserted. When he sa
w a single oil lamp burning beside the arch, he narrowed his eyes and reached for his sword. Two figures were waiting, their shadows huge on the hieroglyph-covered wall. He rubbed his eyes and looked again. He breathed out in relief. It was only Manu and the High Priest, here to meet him for the departure.

  “You shouldn’t have lit the lamp!” he said, approaching them. “What if someone saw? And besides, it’s wasteful.”

  “Manu lit the lamp at my request, Akori,” said the High Priest. “I need it to bless you in the name of the good Gods. Kneel, both of you. Give thanks for the light while you can. There will be darkness aplenty where you are going.”

  A tight knot of nerves was forming in Akori’s stomach. He kneeled.

  The High Priest spoke his blessing, his voice grave. Akori kept his eyes on the trembling flame of the oil lamp.

  The old priest was right, of course. The darkness of the ordinary world was bad enough, hiding predators and thieves, not to mention hazards like quicksand and deadly snakes and scorpions. But the darkness of the Underworld held dangers a thousand times worse.

  “May the light of Ra bless and protect you, for like Ra himself, you must venture into the Underworld…” intoned the priest.

  An image leaped into Akori’s mind then. On his first quest, he had followed Ra’s sun-barge to the entrance of the Underworld. Fortunately, he had freed Ra before the golden barge had vanished into the black opening to begin its night journey.

  But the gateway to the Underworld yawned in his mind again now. Akori could still remember the sounds that had come out of it, like vast beasts stirring in nests of human bones. And the stench! Like rotting meat mixed with exotic spices. Manu had said they were funeral balms, used to preserve the bodies of the dead.

  He snapped out of the memory. The light burned in his eyes. The High Priest was still speaking.

  “…and may they stand strong against all the tricks of the Evil One!” He marked Akori and Manu’s foreheads with sacred oil and gestured for them to stand. “You must go,” the High Priest said. “Go! Quickly!”

  Bidding him farewell, Akori and Manu hurried out into the streets.

  Together, Manu and Akori made their way into the city, trying their best to blend in with the bustling crowds. Akori pulled his cloak closer around him, being sure to cover his armour completely. Manu had cleverly put on a shabby old slave’s garment and carried a bottle of wine, in the hope people would mistake him for a servant on an errand.

  Suddenly, something moved in the corner of Akori’s eye. Quickly, he looked around, but there was nothing there but a cat in a doorway, washing itself in an uninterested way.

  I’m jumping at shadows, he thought. Pull yourself together.

  Nobody challenged them as they walked through the city streets and down along the side roads. Traders argued, off-duty soldiers yawned, drinkers in the taverns sang and yelled and called for more wine.

  “Not bringing your bags of scrolls this time?” Akori whispered to Manu as they hurried down a street of shops. “What if we need information about the Gods?”

  Manu tapped his shiny bald head. “It’s all up here now. I’ve studied a lot. I’m not your High Priest for nothing, Akori.”

  A flash of dappled fur caught Akori’s eye. The cat was there again, trotting along the rooftops, keeping up with them. It was the same cat as before, pale with dark spots. He was certain of it.

  “I think we’re being followed,” he told Manu with a grin.

  “That’s what comes of having cats swarming all over your palace!” Manu said. “It wants to be fed, that’s all.”

  Akori thought of shooing it away, but shook his head. So what if one of the palace cats was following him? It wasn’t going to tell anyone his real identity, was it?

  “This next street’s too crowded,” he told Manu. “Let’s cut down through the back alleys. We can get to the main gate just as easily that way.”

  The alleys were smellier and a lot darker, but at least there was nobody around to see them. All we have to do is get out of the city without being seen, Akori thought. Once we’re outside the walls, this will be easy.

  Then he tripped over something lying in his path and fell in the dust. A bit of wood? No. It was a leg!

  “Hey!” yelled the man who the leg was attached to. His ugly face reared up out of the shadows. “Wash where yer goin’, cantcher? Some of us are tryin’ to gessum sleep… Hey, wait a minute!”

  Akori smelled wine on the man’s breath – lots of it. Of all the bad luck!

  “So sorry,” he said quickly, trying to move past. “Back off to sleep now, goodbye!”

  “I said wait!” the man scowled, grabbing Akori’s cloak. “I know you, don’t I? Seen yer face before, I’m sure of it!”

  Akori tried to tug his cloak out of the man’s grip while keeping his face turned aside. “Not likely. I’m just a farmer.”

  The man gave a slow toothless grin.

  “I know what it is! You look just like that young Pharaoh, dontcha?”

  Manu came to Akori’s rescue. “Well he’s not!” he said. “And it’s a good thing for you that he isn’t!”

  “Huh?”

  Manu folded his arms. “If he was the Pharaoh, he could have you put to death for grabbing him like that.”

  “Put ter death?” the drunkard said fearfully. He let go of Akori’s cloak.

  “Here,” Manu said, passing over the bottle he’d been carrying. “No hard feelings. You can drink to the Pharaoh’s health.”

  The man grabbed the wine greedily. “On yer way,” he growled. “You, boy, you should be put ter death for…for…for pretendin’ to be the Pharaoh.”

  Akori and Manu wasted no time getting out of the alley and back onto the main street. “Next time I try to take a shortcut like that,” Akori whispered, “kick me, okay?”

  “You won’t have to ask twice,” Manu muttered. Then he frowned. “Although, you do know that’s nothing compared to what’s waiting for us in the Underworld, don’t you?”

  “I’ve heard a few things…” Akori said reluctantly, but Manu was eager to talk.

  “The arch-enemy of Ra dwells there. The serpent, Apep! Remember those huge marks we saw on Ra’s barge? Apep must have made those.”

  Akori shuddered to think of a beast large enough to leave scars like that.

  “Then there are the demons, and the lakes of fire, and the river of dung,” said Manu. “Not to mention the one who swallows up the souls of the unjust dead.”

  “The Underworld sounds bad enough on a normal day,” Akori said, shaking his head. “But with Set in charge, and Osiris imprisoned…”

  “Maybe the dead souls down there are the lucky ones.” Manu’s voice was cold. “After all, they’re already dead.”

  Akori felt a shiver ripple along his spine, thinking of the terrible things that were happening in the Underworld.

  It seemed hardly possible. The city was peaceful. All of Egypt was content. From one end of the kingdom to the other, all of Akori’s people were safe and well fed.

  Could there really be a nightmare realm of ghosts and monsters waiting for them?

  A fisherman ferried them across the Nile in his little reed boat, and Akori rewarded him with a nugget of bronze for his trouble. He couldn’t help thinking of a very different ferryman that waited in the Underworld. Those he took across in his boat never came back.

  “There it is!” Manu said. “The Necropolis of Waset!”

  An amazing sight now lay before them. Row after row of tombs stretched across the desert sands, some with small mud-brick chapels resting over them. They had marked the resting places of Egyptians and their families for hundreds of years before Akori had even been born.

  “I’ve heard stories of desert ghouls that live among the tombs. They break them open and eat the bones of the dead,” Akori said. “They have heads like dogs, and they crunch the bones up. Is that true?”

  “I’ve never seen one,” Manu said carefully. “But after what we h
ave seen on our travels, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

  Akori slipped his khopesh into his hand, and said a silent prayer of thanks to Horus for the golden armour under his cloak.

  “We need to go this way,” Manu said, leading Akori down a winding path between the tombs. “The royal cemetery is the grandest, most important part of the Necropolis. The tombs are set into the sides of the hills. Including yours.”

  “I know. You told me all about it when I became Pharaoh, remember? ‘The Valley of the Kings’, you called it.”

  Although Akori hoped it would be many years before he needed to use his tomb, he had still had to have one built during his lifetime so that it was ready in the event of his death, like every other Pharaoh. The entombing of a Pharaoh was too important an event to leave to the last moment. Akori had to view and approve everything, from the carvings and statues to the mummy case.

  “We need to hurry,” he said. “Sunset can’t be far off.”

  “Can you imagine what it’ll be like a thousand years from now?” Manu said proudly, seeming to forget his fear for a moment. “Imagine all the tombs, all the riches! Statues! Jewels! Furniture! There will never be another civilization like ours, Akori. Egypt will last until the end of the world!”

  Maybe it will, Akori thought, but we won’t be there to see it. My soul will be with the Gods, but my body will be a shrivelled-up mummy, just like all the mummies in these tombs.

  The thought of visiting his own tomb, his own coffin, made his flesh crawl. The riddle Manu had asked him seemed creepy and sinister now. The man who uses it will have it for ever. We’re alone out here except for all the dead, he thought. That’s not exactly comforting. To take his mind off it, he looked up at the inscriptions on the tombs as they ran past. Manu had been helping him learn to read over the last few months, and the practice would do him good.

  Akori noticed a broad path that branched off to one side, winding down a short distance into the side of a small hill. At the end of the path was a dusty doorway covered in cobwebs but guarded by two statues of ferocious-looking jackals. The whole area was eerily quiet.