Colossal Legs of Stone

Chapter 14

Amenhotep was in his sixties, wearing a soft, clean linen robe and a blue crown. He rode in a chariot drawn by two sleek and obedient horses. Reins were in one hand and a scepter in the other. He looked around with a calm heart and a benevolent face.

The chariot moved along a wide avenue lined with statues, obelisks, temples and palaces. Ozymandopolis, the thriving capital city of a mighty Egypt.

The people on the streets cheered and bowed as the chariot passed by. They waved palm branches and threw flowers. They shouted praises and blessings to Amenhotep.

"Hail Amenhotep! Hail the son of Ozymandias!

Long live Amenhotep! Long live the king of kings!

Blessed be Amenhotep! Blessed be the lord of the two lands!"

Amenhotep smiled and nodded to the people. He raised his scepter in a gesture of acknowledgement and gratitude.

Next to him, in the same chariot, sat his son, Ramesses, a young man in his twenties, wearing a red crown and an ostentatious gold necklace. He rolled his eyes and sighed as he heard the people's chants.

Amenhotep could hear him muttering. "How long is this going to take? I have better things to do than listen to these peasants."

"Ramesses, my son, these are not peasants. These are your subjects. They love you and respect you. You should show them some appreciation."

"Father, I appreciate them as much as they deserve. But they are not my subjects. They are yours. You are the king. I am only your heir."

"That is true for now. But one day, you will be the king. And you will need their loyalty and support. You cannot rule without them."

"I can rule with or without them. I have the power of the gods in my veins. I am the grandson of Ozymandias, the greatest king who ever lived."

"You are also the son of Amenhotep, the humble king who is still alive."

"And what has that brought you? What have you achieved in your reign?"

Amenhotep spoke in a soft and serene voice. "I have achieved peace and prosperity for Egypt. I lowered taxes, eliminated corvee labor, provided land to the peasants and I have maintained good relations with our neighbors and allies. I have built temples and schools for our people. I have honored our gods and ancestors."

"And where are your monuments? Where are your statues? Where are your inscriptions? How will you be remembered by history?" Ramesses asked in a sharp and scornful voice.

"My son, we are but dust in the wind. Our deeds and words will fade away with time. Our glory and fame will be lost in the sands of history. The only thing that matters is that we love and are loved in return."

Ramesses sneered. "That sounds like the talk of a loser. They will forget you as soon as you are gone. They will only remember Ozymandias, your father, who built this city and this empire with his own hands. He was a true king, a conqueror, a visionary."

"Eventually all that we do is forgotten. Every stone monument will be ground to sand. Every papyrus scroll will rot. Those who remember us will themselves join us in the hereafter. My father, Ozymandias, took a long time to learn this. I am grateful you have opened your heart to me. I think it's very important that I show you something. Let us take a trip together, my dear son."

The journey took several days, but at last they reached Egypt's frontier. The Nile was a ribbon in the distance. Here was an endless sea of sand. But reaching out of that sand was a pedestal and on that pedestal was an immense statue, majestic and imposing, the work of thousands of laborers. The face was carved with exquisite detail, the eyes wide and alert, the nose straight and proud, the lips firm and resolute. The hair was cropped short, adorned with a double crown of Upper and Lower Egypt. The chest was broad and muscular, his arms crossed over his chest in a gesture of stability and endurance. The hands held a crook and a flail, symbols of his kingship and justice. His robe draped over his shoulders and waist, revealing his legs clad in armor and sandals.

"Ramesses, my son, do you know why I brought you here?" Amenhotep asked softly.

"No, father. I do not. It was a long trip just to see this statue in the middle of nowhere." He tilted his head back and narrowed his eyes.

"I brought you here to show you this statue of your grandfather, Ozymandias." Amenhotep said with a gentle smile. He touched his son's shoulder and pointed at the statue.

"I see. But what does it mean?" Ramesses shrugged off his father's hand and crossed his arms.

"It means many things, Ramesses. It means many things to me and to you."

"Like what?" Ramesses scowled and tapped his foot.

Amenhotep walked up to the pedestal, under the colossal legs of stone. "This statue is a reminder, Ramesses. A reminder of his true greatness."

"His true greatness?" Ramesses echoed.

"Not the greatness that he sought through conquest and glory, but the greatness that he achieved through humility and repentance. Not the greatness that he displayed through monuments and inscriptions, but the greatness that he expressed through generosity and kindness."

"How did he achieve that?" Ramesses wondered. He leaned forward slightly and raised his eyebrows.

"He admitted his faults and changed his ways. He shared his wealth and helped his people." Amenhotep said with admiration. He nodded slowly and clasped his hands.

"Why did he do that?" Ramesses tilted his head to the side and pursed his lips.

"He did that in his last years of life. He did that because he realized his errors and regretted his actions. He even ordered all his monuments torn down. It was decades after his death that I discovered he missed just this one. He forbade trade with Zalara and went out to conquer the Kingdom of Kelba instead. He ended up nearly losing his family and Egypt in the process." Amenhotep lowered his gaze and shook his head.

"That sounds stupid. Why did he do that?" Ramesses rolled his eyes and snorted.

"Because he was afraid of the unknown. And he was afraid that he would be forgotten. Fear is a wonderful servant but a foolish master. You must never allow yourself to be ruled by fear. Be ruled by love. Love for your family. Love for your people. And even love for people you don't know."

Amenhotep went up to the statue, knelt and began to pray. He thanked the gods for giving him a humble, loving father. He asked them to bless him with such a son.

Ramesses joined him.

The only sound in the desert was their pleas to the gods. The wind answered with a hiss, sending grains of sand to erode mountains, divert rivers, and mar the colossal statue. Millennia would pass, and nothing would remain but the legs, a broken face, and the boast: "My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings; Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!"