The Hem-Netjer prayed and inclined his head as if listening to unspoken words. Guard her well until she comes again. What do you mean? He did not answer me, but stepped aboard the boat that would carry them back down the river to Iunu. I put the words from my mind, for I reasoned that if she came again I would know it and if she did not, then his words were meaningless.
I lived there below the cliff face and path that led to my beloved's tomb for nearly twenty years more. I built myself a shelter and grew a little food, catching fish and snaring wildfowl in the reeds. People from villages nearby came to recognise me as a holy man and brought me what I lacked, and in return I offered my medical expertise, saving more than a few lives over the years and easing the burden on many more.
The track up the cliff face slowly became obscured and fell away, leaving no trace that men had ever passed that way. I found another path to the top and journeyed inland to the green mountain as often as I could while my strength remained, to gaze on the site of the tomb itself. The guiding pylon at the top of the cliff through which the rising run cast its first rays I destroyed, lest others use the god's golden finger to find the tomb, though I could do nothing about the crown of light.
Let the gods look after that. I died, though at first I was unaware of it. My life was so simple and repetitive that I continued my daily routine for some time before I realised that night and day were passing without feelings of hunger or thirst, and I felt no desire to sleep. I realised what must have happened when I saw the villagers lay a wizened but recognisable body in a shallow sandy grave at the top of the cliffs, near where the pylon had once stood.
I prepared myself for what must surely follow--judgment by the gods. I waited--and waited--while days and seasons and years cycled by--a bodiless entity on the edge of the desert, my attention fixed still on a rock tomb carved in the side of a green mountain crowned with light.
The words of the Hem-Netjer came again to me--'The gods will accept your sacrifice, Khu son of Pa-it, beloved of Scarab. She must certainly be in the company of the gods, enjoying the rewards of a righteous life. I railed at my fate and cursed the gods, but they had turned their faces from me. After a while, I became resigned and a hundred years or so later I came to think of my sentence as an opportunity to serve my beloved from beyond the grave.
True, I had always thought that I would serve her in the Field of Reeds, waiting upon her for eternity, but was this so different? I had no need of food or wine, of sleep or pastime. I served my beloved by making sure her tomb remained undisturbed. Years passed and the world changed. The Kings of Kemet came and went, displaced by curl-bearded foreigners and then the followers of a young man who called himself 'Alexandros, Son of Amun'. They were followed by a hard race from the north who ruled Kemet with iron, and in their turn by followers of one they called 'The Prophet'.
Through all those long years I waited and I watched, and thrice had occasion to act. The first time, some villagers forgot the warnings passed down from their forefathers and attempted to scale the cliff face and cross the desert. They reached the green mountain and sought to force the tomb entrance, seeking anything of value that they might sell for food.
All they found was death. The second time was in the time of the followers of the Prophet, men who hungered after gold and had no regard for the beliefs of others. They followed the trail of rumour and old stories, and came to the same end as the first. The third came much later, when fair-skinned men dressed in clothes that encased them despite the heat, attempted to dig into the side of the green mountain.
These ones sought knowledge rather than gold, but I could not allow my beloved to be taken back to a 'museum'. I called on the Nine of Iunu and they came to my aid, driving the fair-skinned men to self-destruction. The mountain got a reputation for being haunted and was shunned--which suited me. And then came a fourth attempt The streets of Damascus were choked with traffic and the hordes of people on the footpaths were a daunting prospect for the five foreigners who stepped out of the foyer of the Intercontinental Hotel.
Taxi drivers lounging by their vehicles rushed forward, elbowing their way through the crowd, gesticulating and yelling in a mixture of Syrian, French and broken English, each striving to obtain the fare that would surely yield many dollars from these rich but unsuspecting tourists. An army sergeant and soldiers, waiting outside the hotel, intercepted the taxi drivers, pushing them away, and formed a cordon around the foreigners, ushering them to two black limousines parked in front of the taxis.
The Amarnan Kings, Book 6: Scarab-Descendant
The foreigners looked startled and hung back, as if not knowing what to make of the situation, but the soldiers hurried them onward, falling just short of actually manhandling their charges. At the kerbside, the soldiers tried to separate the foreigners by gender, showing the three women to one car and the two men to the other. The older woman remonstrated, and in the face of her determination, the sergeant shrugged and gave in, allowing the foreigners to divide themselves as they wished. I'll travel with Daffyd.
The older man with Dani dropped the stub of his cigarette on the ground and stepped on it before joining her in the rear of the car. The three young people piled into the other limousine, the sergeant and soldiers dividing themselves between the two vehicles. The drivers eased their cars into the traffic, the little flags mounted on the front of the limousines announcing the importance of their passengers.
Policemen on point duty signalled the traffic to stop and give way to their uninterrupted passage. The sergeant said nothing. She is here by the express wishes of the Minister of National History. I think the Minister wouldn't look kindly on you ignoring her questions. She rolled down a window, letting in the heat and noise of the city. Daffyd lit his cigarette and blew a cloud of strongly-scented smoke over the sergeant, grinning at the man's obvious discomfort. Dani shook her head and opened up her briefcase, pulling out some handwritten sheets of paper, a notebook, and a carved golden scarab.
The sergeant glanced at her and looked away again, and Dani realised the soldier had not seen the gleam of gold. She knew that for some reason, the minds of most people failed to register the existence of the artefact. We stumbled upon a series of chambers filled with hieroglyphs that told the story of an Egyptian princess. The account indicated the presence of an undiscovered royal tomb and we, together with the Under-Minister of National History, are going to Egypt to find it.
Are you planning on showing everyone? I just wondered why you'd brought it along instead of leaving it in the hotel safe. Dani turned the heavy golden object over in her hands, marvelling anew at its weight and lustrous gleam. It was perfect, painstakingly carved by some ancient craftsman, showing legs tucked underneath, antennae pressed closely to its head and ribbed wing cases enclosing its rounded body.
A representation of the ancient Egyptian sun god, it had the symbol of the Aten carved on its belly. That feature made it unique as the Aten--the disc of the sun--had been the personal god of the heretic pharaoh Akhenaten, and anathema to the ruling priests of Amun-Re. Daffyd puffed on his cigarette, filling the interior with blue smoke that eddied and slipped out through the open window. That it wasn't just a lucky find? Do you honestly think there are two golden scarabs like this? This is the one gifted by the god Atum to Scarab three thousand years ago It can't just be chance What's that if not purpose?
I've seen Bashir handle the damn thing and believe it to be no more than a simple rock. That implies something out of the ordinary is going on, though being a hard-bitten scientist I hesitate to call it supernatural. Dani returned to her notes and as the limousine sped through the streets of Damascus, the policemen on point duty at the intersections waving the vehicles through without pause, she made a few corrections and additions, honing what she wanted to say to the world's press.
Customers who bought this item also bought
The vehicles slowed at last and turned into a driveway guarded by heavy iron gates and armed guards, pulling up at the rear of an ugly brick building. The five members of the British team were led through a doorway into a dim corridor and thence up flights of stairs and along uncarpeted hallways to a small room. Men and women withdrew as they passed, though a few curious looks were thrown their way. The sergeant and soldiers showed them into the room and closed the doors, remaining outside. The meeting room was almost devoid of furniture and did not look as if it was set up for a press conference.
There were only a few chairs around the edges of the room, a table in the middle of the room, but no podium, and nothing in the way of microphones or lighting. Daffyd looked pensive and when Dani met his eyes, he shrugged and looked away. He wandered over to the window and looked out through a grill to a drab interior courtyard.
If we're not at the British Consulate by five this afternoon, the ambassador opens our letter and Bashir's involvement becomes public. He wouldn't risk that. If Bashir tries anything, we throw him to the wolves. Al, Will and Bob are still out there, remember.
Scarab: Descendant
He pulled out his tobacco and started rolling another cigarette. Then we have nothing. We have the letter at the Consulate. Daffyd lit his cigarette and inhaled deeply. Suddenly, it doesn't seem like very much. Don't forget, we're in a foreign country, and Bashir holds most of the other cards.
Dani sat down on one of the chairs, out of the way, and opened her briefcase again.
She took out the golden scarab and slipped it into her jacket pocket. A presentiment of disaster was creeping over her and she wanted the artefact safe. The door opened, and Under-Minister Ahmed Bashir entered the room, flanked by his aide Nazim, and two soldiers carrying submachine guns.
- See a Problem?.
- You Don’t Eyes To Fall In Love With Someone.
- Tausche Mann gegen Therapieplatz (German Edition)?
- Father Sullivan.
- Scarab: Descendant (The Amarnan Kings, #6) by Max Overton!
- Get A Copy.
- Buy for others.
The soldiers took up positions where they could cover everyone in the room, while Nazim placed a chair for Bashir. The decision was only made an hour ago. The five British expedition members stared at Bashir. Daffyd strode forward and the soldiers' machine guns swung toward him.
He stopped abruptly, but Bashir waved the guards aside, holding the letter out to the Welshman. Daffyd took the letter and unfolded it, quickly scanning the neat handwriting. He took a step forward and the guards' guns came up again. We are a civilised people in Syria. You will simply be put on a flight to England later today. I remember your threats of exposure and paid heed to them until I secured the letter you sent to your Consulate.
However, I have now rendered your threats harmless. A fairy tale about finding a lost tomb? I think you would find very few people would believe you, and when I revealed that you had been deported for scientific irregularities, your standing at your university would reach rock bottom. There are notebooks and transcribed texts from the chamber walls, photographs, and a handful of letters written to your colleagues in England. None of the letters contain proof, and you will not have access to any of the notes and photographs. Without those, you have nothing. Minister Bashir turned to his aide.
As we talk, their rooms at the hotel are being emptied of their possessions, as is the hotel safe. All they now own is what they have on their persons. So, gentlemen and ladies, if you would be so good as to empty the contents of your pockets and briefcase on the table, we can conclude our business today. Don't the English believe in playing the game? You have played and lost, so grin and bear it in a sportsmanlike fashion. Marc muttered an expletive but Bashir ignored him. I have no wish to subject you to such indignities, but I will if you give me no choice. After a long hesitation, Dani took the golden scarab from her pocket and laid it on the table.
Although she and Daffyd knew it for what it was, a superbly crafted golden artefact from the time of the Amarnan kings, it was apparent nobody saw anything but a rounded brownish yellow pebble. Bashir knitted his brows and leaned across to pick up what looked to be a small sandstone rock, fumbling it as if it proved unexpectedly heavy. Dani shrugged, fighting to keep the concern off her face. Nothing of any value. What I'm wondering is why you keep it. You wouldn't begrudge me a memento, would you Minister? I think I will keep it. There is a flight that will carry you home.
I hardly need say that none of you are welcome to return to the United Arab Republic. You will take with you the clothes you wear and your passports. Your posturing comes to nothing, however, for Syria is an independent country and our laws apply here. Now run home with your tails between your legs and be thankful I do not hand you over to Arab justice. The soldiers ushered the five of them out into the corridor and marched them down flights of stairs again before leading them to small windowless rooms with steel doors.
The men were shown into one room and the women into another across the hallway, and the doors locked. Dani looked around the small cell, its only furnishings being an upright chair, a narrow pallet bed, and a round hole in one corner whence noxious odours arose. She crossed to the chair and sat down.
They all had occasion to use the hole in the corner over the next few hours. Customers who bought this item also bought. Page 1 of 1 Start over Page 1 of 1. The Amarnan Kings, Book 5: The Amarnan Kings, Book 4: The Amarnan Kings, Book 3: The Amarnan Kings, Book 2: The Amarnan Kings, Book 1: Fall of the House of Ramesses, Book 3: Product details File Size: March 23, Sold by: Share your thoughts with other customers. Write a customer review.
Read reviews that mention amarnan kings ancient egypt max overton scarab series read other books tomb moses previous. Showing of 25 reviews. Top Reviews Most recent Top Reviews. There was a problem filtering reviews right now. Please try again later. Kindle Edition Verified Purchase. Scarab, previously known as a no-name child of King Nebmaetre of Egypt's Middle Kingdom, then named Beketaten, who in previous books of Overton's series came of age Bk 1 , fought against her usurping Uncle Ay on the side of her brother Shmenkhkare Bk 2 , continues the battle alongside her older brother Shmenkhkare against the cruel and ambitious Ay and her younger brother Tuthankamen Bk 3 , finally falls under the power of King Ay's adopted son Nakhtmin, then turns the tables on her worst enemies, clearing the way for Horemheb to come to power and her ex-lover Paramessu to become Horemheb's successor and eventually her son Set to sit on the throne of Egypt Bk 4.
In The Amarnan Kinds Book 5: This tale has been 'read' to us from the beginning by a British female archaeologist Dani, who has found Scarab's tomb, apparently, in modern-day Syria, on the walls of which the aging Scarab had recorded her life story. It emerges at the end of Book 5 that Scarab is not buried in the tomb in Syria, as we had thought all along, but that her husband Khu had taken her body to her brother Shmenkhkare's hidden tomb in Egypt and secretly buried her there.
So the stage is set for Book 6, where archaeologist Dani, apparently a descendant of Scarab's, is going to wield the golden scarab she found in the Syrian excavation, to assist her as she deals with unearthing her ancestor's body and story and fending off the efforts of a Saudi Arabian official who threatens the lives of the British archaeologists as well as the integrity of the history of Scarab. If this sounds a bit far-fetched, it is to the credit of the storyteller Max Overton that it all goes down smoothly, and delightfully, as Scarab's marvelous resilience and resourceful character grow slowly from the little girl playing with a dung beetle in Book 1 into the queen wielding the power of the gods of Egypt in Book 5.
She restores Ma'at, the balance of justice and peace, to her country, just as any good fictional heroine should. We wait on Book 6 of The Amarnan Kings: Scarab - Descendant to see if Dani can do as well as her ancestor against the greed and ambition of present-day despots! This entire series was an amazing way of looking at the 18th Dynasty as opposed to what we know from the history books. Why couldn't Smenkhare and Tut have died at the same time, why couldn't Moses have been a previous king who disappeared for years but continued in is "odd" belief that there was only one God?
So many times throughout the first five books, and caught myself smiling at the in-depth research and story telling of these "what ifs. The last book was a very different feel, but equally as good. A perfect way to wrap up the present-day story, and also a few good finishing touches on Scarab's story. This entire series goes down on my favorites of all time list, and I wish more people knew about it!
The Amarnan Kings Series by Max Overton
Author kept my attention for sur. I love Egypt and it's history and it did feed my "desire" in reading about it. I suppose, history does not really apply as I had never heard of Pharaos in Syria before. Now I will have to read up on this! Good reading though, I loved it and wish there would be more of this type.
The Amarnan Kings series is a very readable, off-beat, and entertaining group of books. It has about any genre you might look for - from archaeology, to mystery, to fantasy, and a new take on ancient Egyptian religion and life in ancient times. Each book is a fairly complete story in itself, with enough hints to make you want to get the next book.
This story was so unbelievable it was a waste of time to even read it. I cannot believe the author would try to make anyone believe that Ahkenaten turned himself into Moses and that Horhenhab was the pharoah that died when God flooded the river. This whole set of books were great. I read one right after the other so I could find out what was going to happen next. You need to make sure you read them in order or your history is going to be messed up. If you enjoy ancient Egypt, read this set.