Chapter 2: Night's Winds
The last great pharaoh of the Old Kingdom was the Sixth Dynasty king, Pepy Nakht. But although he instigated various enterprises-including the construction of his own ambitious tomb near Aswan-his reign (some ninety years, or most of the twenty-third century BC) marked the beginning of the breakdown of the central authority. By the end of the Old Kingdom-approximately 2200 BC-the balance of powers among the king, the clergy, and the functionary class had deteriorated, and the principal looser was the pharaoh…It was at this stage that that the provinces made themselves felt for the first time in Egyptian history…
With the weakening of the central power a tendency developed to make administrative posts hereditary. This encouraged independent aspirations, which were soon expressed in other forms then tombs with decorated walls. Some of the nomarchs even demonstrated political ability and eventually played a decisive role in the country's destiny. When this happened, the Old Kingdom came to an en and Egypt entered a period of disorder, known as the First Intermediate Period. (Claudio Barocas, Monuments of Civilization: Egypt, pg. 48)
Professor Champollion materialized in a swirl of dust. "Sarah? What is the matter?"
Sarah was still staring at the ground. "Professor! Look…"
The professor saw what she was pointing at and immediately fell to his knees in the dust, peering at it. Confused, Alex moved closer, wondering what the fuss was about- and jumped in surprise.
It was a stone, almost completely buried in the sand. But up out of that sand stared a single, unblinking eye. The same one they had seen on that wall with the map, a circle peering out through two thick arched lines like eyelashes.
The professor instantly pulled out his brush and began to sweep the sand clear. "Éstudiants" he said, "go back to the camels and get the excavation gear." He grinned at them. "We found something!"
"No shit…" said Alex.
Sarah was still on her knees in the dust. "Alex can go, he can carry more then I can, and I want to help!"
"Sarah, I want you both to go. There is much to be carried. Hurry!"
The assistants ran off.
The Professor turned back to the stone. The eye still stared up at him from the depths of the sand. He turned his attention to brushing most of the sand off.
Ever since he was small, he had dreamed of this day. He had already put himself on the map by being the first to decode the hieroglyphs, and here he was, most likely on the verge of something truly different!
This eye…he had never seen this particular hieroglyph before. Was this a relic of a lost time, a period in Egyptian history that yet to be revealed? For some strange reason, almost none of the tombs from the Middle Kingdom have survived to this day, and none of the temples. No, Champollion, it is foolish to get your hopes up…oh, but this was exciting!
The eye turned out to be embossed on a tile about a foot square, and Champollion began to clear away the sand from the sides with his fingernails. It turned out to go deeper then he expected, a small pillar, and when his assistants came back they saw his digging in the sand like a dog with a cube of limestone pillar sticking out of the ground above him.
Up on the bluff, the young man who bore the hieroglyphs on his face scowled and looked at the man in the turban is if demanding an explanation. The dark-skinned did not acknowledge his companion's look, and stroked his large golden ankh in a thoughtful way.
The three on the hill went to work around the pillar with their little shovels; the professor wouldn't let them use anything bigger for fear of damaging any surrounding artifacts.
"Where are Wilhem and the porters?" asked the professor as he tunneled.
"Those nitwits," said Sarah, stopping a moment to shake sand out of her russet ponytail. "We told them we found something, they acted like they'd seen a ghost, spoke among themselves in Arabic and flat out refused to stick so much as a toe in this valley. Mumbled something about evil spirits."
"How dumb is that?" exclaimed Alex from his side. "I mean, there's nothing to be scared of around here. We've been here all day and we 'aint been jumped yet!"
"Oh Alex," exclaimed Sarah, "what happened to Mr. Proper?"
"I'm sick of acting like that! I'm gonna be me from now on!"
"Tre bien, Alex. Never let anyone make you become something you are not. Remember that," said the professor as he widened the hole he had made down the side of the thing.
"Thanks, Professor!" Alex beamed.
They were still working when the sun began to set. A little ways from the entrance to the valley, the porters and the guide were making dinner. The smell reached Alex's nose and made him drop his trowel and sniff.
"Professor! It's chow time!"
Sarah's stomach rumbled.
Professor Champollion had to summon all the willpower he had to pry himself from the job. He could have gone on digging until it was too dark to see, and probably longer, but the kids could not, and if they didn't go now it would be too dark to find their way back to the camp.
"Let's get back," he said.
He spent a very uneasy night. He dreamt that a huge monster that closely resembled Ammit the Devourer of Souls came, uprooted the pillar and stomped the hill into dust, leaving nothing to study, no link to this piece of lost history. The monster roared and stomped it's feet, roared and stomped, and snarled, and roared…
The snarling turned out to be Alex snoring. Sarah was sitting up on her cot, looking bleary eyed and outraged. Together they dragged Alex out of the tent, where his snoring woke up the porters, who threatened them with very nasty deaths if they didn't get rid of him. The sleepy, grumpy professor threatened not to pay them and they swore some more and stood their ground. Finally Sarah and Champollion had no choice but to take their roaring charge back inside the tent, where they tried to sleep. When Alex started sleep talking about food, Sarah snapped. Ignoring the professor's half-hearted protests, she walked over to Alex's cot, seized the edge and dumped the boy onto the sandy floor.
"Hey, what gives?" he complained.
"Just…shut…up," said Sarah as she went back to bed. He must have subliminally gotten the message, because he didn't snore any more that night.
The night winds stirred up the sands…the porters retreated back into their own shelters as dust filled the air and danced with the winds. And the next morning, the professor and his two protégés were to stare in amazement at what the winds had unearthed…