Goddess of the Moon

Goddess of the Moon: Ptahotep Part 1

"If you are to be useful to me, you must learn."

"Learn what?"

"About them."

I wanted to smile but the expression on her face warned me otherwise. "Myth and legend. I've read the books, both fact and fiction. I am not persuaded they ever actually existed."

The low lights glinted in her black eyes. The deep red lips flashed a brief sardonic smile. She drew a cloth aside from the tabletop. Parchment sheets bound in ancient pigskin lay beneath it. She opened them and turned over the first illuminated page.

"Your knowledge of early Coptic will serve you well. Some passages are in the original hieroglyphic."

I leaned forward and read the first sentence.

'It is said that she came from the unknown and forbidden places beyond the southernmost regions of the curved lands of the Nubians...'

Beneath this sentence were hieroglyphic characters copied from some earlier document in the same hand. It read: 'The scroll of Ptahotep. Translated by the Brothers of the Church of Saint Pachomuis the Cenobite.'

-o0o-

Amun Khenemet stared into the southwest as Ra descended into the underworld. There was blood in the sky and he prayed that Ra would soon return reborn. In the far distance he saw the first signs of the caravan. The red light of dying Ra glinted against metal in the distance.

He had pushed his expedition as far as the fifth cataract of the Iteru and camped to make maps for the Pharaoh. He had sent scouts ahead. The boldest of them returned with news of the caravan. He reported a parade of camels, strange animals never before seen, a personage of great importance adorned with fabulous gems, gold and cloth that seemed lighter than air. There was a small army of slaves, many of them carrying bundles and chests and skins of the sacred leopard. Four women, clad in armor of gold and purple vestments carried a large wrought iron box on four poles. It was clear the box and its contents were treated with great deference.

Khenemet looked again at the sky. It seemed as if Ra had bled his life force across the horizon before descending into the earth. It was not a good omen. Lights began to flicker in the blackness of the horizon. They were torches were lit by carriers in the caravan. He could now see the black mass of the retinue as it neared.

He ordered torches to be lit and had his guards stand by as he returned to his tent. He dressed in a manner suitable to greet a person of importance.

The caravan stopped a short distance from Khenemet's encampment. Men began to set up tents and a small coral for the slaves. Two camels separated from the group and made their way toward the Egyptian encampment. They entered the circle of torches where Khenemet waited, surrounded by his guards armed with bows and spears. Khenemet wore his best copper breastplate and cotton tunic.

The back of the lead camel carried a square wooden frame covered with the fabulous lighter than air cloth mentioned by his scout. A wizened servant came up to assist the occupant to dismount.

Khenemet drew in his breath sharply. It was a woman. She was tall, her body lissome and muscled, her black skin glistening in the torchlight. She was dressed in a tunic of leopard skin over an undergarment of light cotton. Her neck was adorned with a golden collar studded with clear and colored gems. In the center of her forehead was a raised crescent moon-shaped scar.