Well in Time (24 page)

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You can imagine the panic that swept through the Egyptian religious community that day. Priests and priestesses were running in all directions, trying to save the precious artifacts and sacred objects. Trying to save themselves!

There was a special urgency because there was among them a family of such importance that all were willing to lay down their lives to protect them: the remaining lineage of the last true Pharaoh of Egypt! This family had escaped following the takeover by the Greek Ptolemys, and they and then their lineage had been sequestered at Philae for eight hundred and fifty years, in an unbroken line of succession!

Thus, on that terrible day when the Christian mob swept in, every heart and mind among the Egyptian priesthood was turned toward the safety of this sacred and irreplaceable family. We have first-person accounts of that day, written in hieroglyphs, and stored in this cave to this day. And there are storytellers among us who have preserved these accounts orally, from one generation to the next, for these last nearly seven hundred years. Therefore, I can assure you that what I am about to tell you is as accurate as any human history can be.

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There were, of course, guards around the temple at Philae, and they were the first to raise the alarm that a ragtag mob of people was heading toward the sacred island in a variety of boats, mostly small fishing vessels. Clearly, these were no pilgrims coming to be healed, for they brandished weapons and were shouting as they came.

Immediately the high priest, named Aapep, which means Moon Snake, understood the dire nature of this invasion and ran like the wind to the royal chambers. Without salutation or any ritual respect whatsoever, he shouted that the royal family must take flight instantly. He grabbed the baby from its cradle and taking its mother, the queen, by her arm, dragged her from the room and through a series of twisting corridors, with the remainder of the family racing behind. And at the desperate procession’s end was an ancient crone, carried by servants.

At last, with shouting, crashing, and screaming echoing through the hallways behind them, they came to a small chamber into which Aapep guided them. Drawing aside an embroidered curtain, he revealed a low door, which he opened and through which he hastily shoved one after another of the family: the mother and her princelings, their father, the present Pharaoh, and finally, the old crone, whose identity you shall know presently.

When all were secured inside, Aapep slammed the door, and barred it from within. Now, they were in a low chamber that diminished in height toward the far end, leading directly into a tunnel. The only light was from a torch that Aapep had managed to grab from a wall sconce as they raced along. There was, however, a stack of unlit torches lying beside the entrance to the tunnel, put there in case of urgent need. These he lit, one at a time, and handed to each member of the group who was capable of carrying one.

By the flaring light of these, the startled and badly frightened family looked into the tunnel that descended sharply into an abyss of blackness. Aapep gave them no time to fall into trepidation, however. “Majesties,” he cried, “there is no time to hesitate. This way lies your salvation!” And so saying, he plunged into the tunnel, with the royal family straggling after him.

That day, dear child, old Egypt died on the surface of this beloved land. The priests and priestesses of the temple all were slaughtered most brutally. The Christian mob looted, burned, and smashed until the temple was desecrated and ran with blood. But under their very feet, running like a secret river in the darkness of the earth, the precious seed of Egypt was preserved, to await another day in the light of beloved Ra, the Sun.

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For hundreds of years the priesthood had prepared for just such an emergency. Stored in underground labyrinths were food that was continually renewed, clothing, bedding, utensils—all that the family might need to survive for a given time beneath the ground. What they did not expect, of course, was that there would be no return to the sunlight in their lifetimes, or in the lifetime of any of those present that day, but one.

It is that one most extraordinary person about whom I will tell you shortly. But first I will say that the underground area where they were now gathered was manmade, but it connected, by design, with a natural cave the runs along the course of the River Nile for many hundreds of miles.

Sometimes the cave deviates and runs out under the desert. And sometimes it sinks right under the Nile and water drips through its ceiling. In places, long ago, it had collapsed, and the segments had been reconnected by human agency. But for those who knew the way—and it was part of the secret knowledge of the priesthood at a certain level of advancement to know these things—it was possible to move from the southern boundary of Egypt at the First Cataract, all the way northward to the delta where the Nile enters the sea, completely under the ground!

Who knows? Perhaps it was in that very cave that Isis sheltered with the reborn Osiris.

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Now, for a day the family huddled in the manmade chambers beneath the island of Philae. Through secret windows in the foundation of the temple, they were able to spy the doings above and thus learned the terrible outcome of the day’s events. Then, with the religious objects that were supplied there, the pharaoh and his wife performed solemn rituals of atonement and in honor of the dead. When these were at last complete, they gathered their family, the priest Aapep, and their servants about them, and took council.

“It is just a matter of time,” said the wise Aapep, “before these invaders find the secret door. Therefore, I recommend taking the most extreme measures possible for your protection.” There was silence then, for the parents and the old woman knew to what he referred, and it was a thing of such gravity and finality that their hearts quailed before it.

“Can we not hope, then, for any kind of rescue?” asked the queen, her hands enmeshed in the hair of her oldest child. It was clear to see how she grieved that this boy would be subjected eternally to a sunless realm, and never again run and play in open air as any child should.

In answer, the Pharaoh simply pulled her to him in the tenderest of embraces, for he could see that her heart was about to break. “We must have the courage of our ancestors,” he said gently. “Many generations of our family have lived in peace. It is our lot and responsibility to sustain our line through the greatest challenge since the coming of the Ptolemys. We must be brave.”

So it came to pass, there in the sunless world, that the little group made a terrible, irreversible decision. For, hidden inside one of the giant pylons of the portal to the sanctuary was a device of ponderous weight and import—a huge slab of stone which, when triggered, would slide downward into the tunnel and form an impenetrable barrier to all pursuit. But of course, it also would cut the royal family off from the temple at Philae forever.

With trepidation and heavy hearts, the little group moved in single file into the tunnel that would take them to this heartbreaking juncture. In due time, they reached a place where the smooth floor of the tunnel gave way to a sudden abyss, bottomless in its blackness. Across this stretched a delicate bridge of rope and wooden slats, the further end of which was just visible in the light of the guttering torches.

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On the edge of this pit, the family stopped to rest. There the pharaoh performed yet another ritual in which he thanked the gods for the family’s many peaceful years at Philae and for their safe escape, and invoked their help on the journey into darkness which they were about to undertake.

He was just uttering the closing prayer when they all were jolted from their meditative silence by a sound that struck terror into their hearts. Muffled by the length of the tunnel, but closer than they cared to know, were the shouts of pursuit! Stopping his prayer in mid-sentence, the pharaoh swept his son into his arms and stepped onto the bridge, saying, “Come, my dears. It is time.”

The bridge swayed and swung under their hurrying feet. The servants, in particular, set it swinging as they tussled and half-dragged the poor old woman along its narrow length. When at last they were all assembled on the other side, the pharaoh turned, and with his knife cut the ropes of the bridge, which sagged against the final fibers and then, cut free, swung away into the darkness of the pit.

Aapep, meanwhile, raced to a spot in the far wall where a small stone, carved with the hawk-head of Horus at the end, protruded from the surrounding stones. With a mighty tug, he pulled the stone from its slot. There was a moment of profound silence during which the entire group held their breath. Then, slowly at first and then with increasing force, a stream of sand appeared from the ceiling above the pit. It fell first in a tiny trickle and then a flow, and finally cascaded down into the abyss like one of the rapids of the First Cataract.

All the while a sound, at first a dim rumble in the invisible regions above them, increased to a roar that drowned out both their labored breathing and the cries of their pursuers. It was a terrible grinding, wheezing, rumbling sound of massive masonry moving, as if an earthquake were in that instant demolishing the temple above their heads.

The ground under their feet began to shake and the queen looked wildly around her for her children, screaming, “We have to get back! Get out of the way!”

At just this instant, out of the mouth of the tunnel opposite them came a stream of dark figures, brandishing torches. So fast were they moving that the first among them could not see his peril in time and simply plunged over the edge of the pit, where he and his torch instantly wheeled into darkness. The others managed to stop in time, and they clustered on the edge of the abyss, gesturing wildly with their torches and shouting. For the holy family must have been clearly visible to them across the divide by the light of their own torches.

All the while, the earth was rumbling and stones were shrieking as they grated and tumbled upon one another. The cataract of sand had turned into a solid deluge, as the entire ceiling gave way, and an ocean of sand descended.

At the last moment, one of the pursuers pulled an arrow from a quiver on his back, slammed it into his bow, and pulled back. Just as his arrow was released, flying like death itself toward the royal family, there was a deafening roar. Like the blade of a huge hatchet chopping, a giant slab of stone slid thundering down from the ceiling. With a horrific jolt, it landed, straddling the pit, completely blocking one side of the tunnel from the other!

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The royal family and their retainers huddled against the wall, weeping with terror. A blast of hot, stale air blew past them, extinguishing their torches like the breath of some infernal god. Plunged into complete blackness, it seemed their minds would break from the utter lostness of their position.

But then, out of black silence came the voice of Aapep, shaking a bit, it is true, but calm, saying, “I have a flint, here on my belt. We will have light in a moment. Take heart.” And surely as he had spoken, there was a scratching of flint, a spark was kindled, and in a moment, a torch flared like hope returning after despair.

With the relighting of their torches, the group hovered between gratitude that they were safely defended from their pursuers and dread of the dank kingdom which was now theirs to rule. As they moved once more into the tunnel, their way now being irrevocably chosen for them, they did so both with thanksgiving and trepidation. It was not long, however, before their attention must once again shift to matters of gravest concern.

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The royal entourage made their way forward for some time and finally broke from the hewn tunnel into the first of a near infinitude of natural caverns. This one was quite spacious and glittered magically by torch light from myriad tiny crystals embedded in the limestone. More important, it had several large side chambers and these were of such special importance that each was fitted with a massive door, secured with a lock.

Since these were no mere wanderers but the royal family of Egypt, the content of these chambers was well known to them and to the high priest Aapep. Here was sealed a treasure of such vast value as to be immeasurable, for they were now in the royal treasury! Here were collected, through many hundreds of years, the unparalleled treasures of their wealthy kingdom, removed to these impregnable rooms at the time of the Ptolemy takeover.

Of course, they had no use for gold or jewels or precious woods or gorgeous jewelry, which could neither be appreciated in the gloomy dark, nor eaten by their hungry band. Fortunately, their years of preparedness were paying off, for in the initial chamber also were stored foodstuffs fit for a king and sufficient for an army. And so they rested and ate, and as they ate, discussed. Slowly and painfully, a plan began to form that gave hope of a way forward.

Aapep, as part of his priestly training, had traversed the entire length of the secret cave and tunnel system, from Philae in the south to a humble fisherman’s shack that hid the entrance, in the northern delta. “With the supplies that are stored here, we can travel underground all the way to the north in safety,” he said. “It will be a slow process, but if we carry food forward, making several trips each day between this and our next stopping place, we can keep ourselves supplied. Further on, there will be more stores.”

“How will we know if it is a day we labor thus, or a week, since there is not Ra to guide us?” asked the queen.

“Aapep speaks wisely,” the pharaoh said. “We will do as he suggests and we will rest as we grow weary, no matter what the hour on the surface above.”

And so, they settled on the details of their plan, and would have begun immediately but for yet another misfortune in a day black with them. Surely, the stars of heaven were frowning on them that day, for no sooner had they eaten and rested and begun to stir around, eager to begin their labors, than the old woman, who had been valiant and stoic throughout the day’s ordeal, began to suffer a critical decline.