The Horus Quest

Chapter 2 I was really getting a bit inquisitive now. Jibril had mentioned others and also that they knew I was here. Perhaps he meant that I had been in Luxor for a couple of days now. I had not made a secret of my travels. I had not thought it was required. I had not kept a low profile but had enjoyed the friendly banter with most of the traders, cab drivers and itinerant vendors who called out to solicit my custom everywhere I went. Jibril looked straight at me and lifting his glass, toasted me silently; his eyes, a deep brown, showed deep intelligence. “It all started about a year ago when a man I knew called Mamout came into my shop to sell me some things. He said that he had a cousin who had found a few artefacts in a hole not far from here. I expected the usual scarab or ushabtiu statue of dubious origin but was surprised when Mamout withdrew a gold ring with an Uchat on it. That is what you might call the eye of Horus Mr Edwards. He also brought a couple of gold necklaces. These things of course cannot be dated precisely except if they are named and so I bought these from him; at a fair price and I did not see him for a while. I supposed that he had no more things; but one evening he brought me an exquisite amulet crafted in gold and some tiny inscribed gold discs around two centimetres in diameter with a hole at the centre also with tiny holes around their circumference. They were joined by a chain, just like a pretty necklace. They were in an ivory coffin shaped box with hieroglyphs and a cartouche, neither, of which I was able to recognise or read. The workmanship was beyond that of a mere forger and I marvelled at the complexity of it. All of these things were in an outer ebony box of the finest workmanship enamelled so well that it might have been made yesterday. There was a representation of the judgement of Thoth painted on the lid. That is the painting, which shows the weighing of the heart of the dead soul balanced against the feather of truth or Maat. Isis is pictured with the Ka or soul. They are looking on as Thoth the ibis headed god with his writing implement in hand examines the balance scales ready to condemn the soul to eternal damnation or eternal life. Sebek the crocodile-headed god waits to devour the heart should it be the heavier. A soul without a heart was damned indeed Mr Edwards. Another box contained the entire group of boxes, so the entire thing was like a Russian doll, one inside the other. I have no idea why this was” ********************************* Chapter 3 I then lay panting from the effort, flat on the top of the tower partially concealed by the crumbling cornice. There was no sign of movement but a wailing noise reached me from the direction I had just come. I prayed it was not the unknown persons who were after this object. If it was, then Jibril or his family was the source of the anguish. I trembled, both from the night chill and that thought. Being in a position of real and I mean genuine danger has the effect of concentrating your senses. I don’t mean the pseudo fear of the horror film or the adrenaline rush of the white-knuckle ride or the freefall jump. I mean the primitive fear of being hunted. Once the instinct takes over, an excitement of anticipation hones the senses into a survival mode. The pulse quickens and the muscles are ready to fight or run. The brain kicks in with a precision and providing the sense of reason is not lost within the terror you really feel, then it is possible to control this to your advantage. I had felt it several times during my career when confronted with a car bomb or a van filled with enough fertiliser and diesel fuel to blow the average street off the face of the earth. I had learned to recognise the enhancement it had given to my reason. It would now save me I hoped. At least I understood my fear and how to use it. There are good and bad parts to life. We all want the good parts and tend to ignore the bad, pretending they do not exist. My previous work with explosive devices had taught me some very important facts. Number one; never underestimate anyone or anything. In other words know your enemy. This is as important as survival itself even if you fear him or them. That way you will neither underestimate him nor overestimate him either. If some person has made a bomb, then they must have thought about it. They have gone and acquired the parts and have assembled a deadly weapon. It is not like a gun or sword; for you have to see those you kill. A bomb is indiscriminate; usually it is a coward’s way to maim, injure or kill people, plus damage property. A bomb also brings other items like broken glass and masonry within its blast to kill more innocents. The simple products of combustion, carbon dioxide, water and heat when expended in microseconds have killed more of mankind than all the plagues, famines and disasters throughout history. No wonder Alfred Nobel felt guilty.