Finding My Beloved

Summary: Nanowrimmow novel: The spirit calls to me, he haunts my dreams and waking moments. His mummified body is so familliar, and greif still haunts me. I am a widow of 3,000 years and Tutankamun lives on inside me.

Part One: The find

Chapter One

The landscape was barren – there was nothing in site except for the newly opened tomb. The team rested on their shovels, gaping at their find. Five archaeologists and a young woman stood by the entrance, staring at the gaping hole which had been sealed for thousands of years. If it wasn’t for the support and large amount of money supplied by Lord Carnarvon, this trip would not have continued.

... It was incredible. I stared at the rock tomb, which was the resting place of the boy King’s dead, mummified body and his Ka – his spirit.

The five men, who were still in awe of their find, entered the tomb, which had known no sound for thousands of years. I knew from books and my father’s experiences that tombs were stuffy and yet, their treasures had always interested my father.

I wanted to explore the tomb, but by myself. The heat was almost too much to bare as I stood beside Howard Carter- just inside the doorway, who had his arm across my shoulders. I loved the study of ancient Egypt and what it had to offer. I was especially interested in the study of hieroglyphs and I had not seen them in actuality – for I had always been helping at the stables in England, helping my mother with the horses my father also loved.

My father, George Edward Stanhope Molyneux Herbert- Lord Carnaarvon – had insisted that I “—get an education of seeing real things instead of spending your time reading books,” so I became a member of the famous dig.

Standing in the doorway of the newly discovered tomb, I watched as the men explored the tomb- they were gloating over their find as if they were children. They moved deeper into the tomb, but I remained by myself. The muffled cries of the men came to my ears. “Look here, do you see this, do you see that?”. I was glad that my father had come on this expedition, for he would also be remembered in history.

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“Its yours,” Carter said, handing me the golden necklace with the scarab amulet which was emblazoned on the surface.

“I can’t take it; it isn’t mine.” I said politely refusing the gift.

The soft voices of the men hummed in the night, along with the mosquitoes and other inscects.

Howard Carter leaned close to me and he held the necklace in front of me. “Please, my Lady, take this gift – it would mean a lot to me.” He smiled, the moon light playing over his features.

I looked at him, truly seeing him for the first time. He was perhaps twenty seven years old- I was uncertain of his exact age. He had short black hair, a neat moustache, a fairly beaky nose – but straight, not hooked – and round wire-rimmed glasses. His eyes were brown and he had a nice smile.

I stared at the golden scarab, which dangled on the fine chane. Howard Carter held it in his left hand, holding it out to me.

”Evey, I know it isn’t yours, but I think it suits your beauty. Please, take it.” I blushed, holding my hand out to take the amulet and I smiled, as I clicked the clasp of the chain in place around my neck. It felt awquard, wearing something that did not belong to me- something precious and valuable, but I could not and would not refuse Howard Carter’s kindness and gift.

The men crawled into their tents, which were arranged in a half circle. I said to my father, when he asked if I were going to bed, “I will —I wish to sit up for a while. I wish to look at Egyptian stars.”

“They're the same stars Evey, you see them every night at home, in England.” My father said before entering his tent.

I knew this of course, but I wanted to examine the beautiful scarab amulet Carter had given me. It sent a certain feeling through me; when I held it,I felt as if I were being watched, but apart from the tents and my form, and the distant tomb, there was no one in sight. But I heard a voice calling “Ankasanamun, my darling.”

My head lifted. I had been gazing into the amulet’s depths when the voice spoke to me in a soft, persuasive tone. It did not seem to be coming outside, it seemed to be coming from with in my mind.

‘Ankasanamun? My thought questioned, confused.

‘My Ankasanamun, it has been so long.’ The answer came from a deep soft male voice. I knew, that I had heard it, I did not know how. Nor did I know where and when, but I knew it was as familiar as the stars and the sand and my books that I cherished.

The scarab amulet in my hand felt cold, somehow. I held the chain between my fingers, , staring into the darkness.

“Who’s there?” I questioned aloud, but it was only the deep night time silence that answered my high pitched question.

‘Who is this Ankasanamun?’ I questioned the strange voice.

‘My wife.’ The voice said simply.

I pushed a strand of long wavy brown hair from behind my left ear. ‘W-wife?’ I stammered.

‘Yes, Ankasanamun, you are my wife.’ The voice responded.

I felt insecure. I really desired to wake MR Howard Carter as his tent was the closest and he would probably know what this was. If anyone did it would be he whom I should question.

I stood up, brushing sand from my dress.

‘No my darling, you must hear me.’ The voice said softly, niggling at my brain with its gentle words.

‘Firstly, I am not your darling,’ I snapped and I began to turn around. I faced the tents and thought that I really must wake Howard Carter. The voice followed me, no matter where I went, it would not leave me alone.

‘Secondly?’ it questioned, as if it were enjoying its self.

‘Secondly, I do not wish to hear what you have to say, I doubt it is of any importents to me.’

Sand trickled between my sandaled covered toes as I stepped one step toward the tents.

‘That, my wife, is where you are wrong.’ With a frustrated sigh that I let out into the night air, I stomped onwards to the tents.

They were only a few metres back from the tomb, but it seemed that the sand was dragging at me; slowing me down.

‘You will listen to me, you will understand my beloved.’ The voice was sharp with anger now.

I shivered. The tone seemed familiar. Where had I heard that voice before. It was a commanding voice at the present and yet it seemed to pull me into its words; drawing me away from the safety of the tents.

‘Alright, alright.’ I resigned and sat back down on the Egyptian sand, under the Egyptian stars.

‘Tell me what you wish to tell me and hurry with it.’ I said, not in the mood to listen to this phantom.

‘Very well, I wish to tell you a story.’ The mysterious voice replied slowly.

‘A story? I asked, incredulously to the voice I could only hear in my thoughts.

‘Yes, but you must do something for me, first.’ The voice replied. I was sure, if I had a face to match the voice, the expression on the face would be a smile.

‘For you? And, who may I ask, are you?’ I questioned my strange companion.

‘You shall know when the proper time comes.’ The voice replied, it seemed to be getting impatient again.

‘Alright, alright, what do you want me to do?’ I asked, dreading the answer.

‘Go into my tomb.’ It said as if it were asking me to go for a strole along a garden path.

‘Your tomb, I’m sorry I do not know where that is.’

‘Yes, you do.’ The voice said and I somehow knew that the owner of the voice was also the occupant of the tomb that MR Carter and my father- along with the team had discovered earlier that morning.

‘Oh and what, may I ask, do you want me to do in your tomb?’ I questioned, beginning to feel frustrated.

‘There is a bracelet, I want you to fetch it for me.’

‘Now? In the dark?’ I asked, beginning to feel afraid.

‘I will be with you.’ The voice said softly.

‘Oh and that is a great comfort, sir.’ I thought, to myself sarcastically, though I was sure the voice had heard.

A chuckle came to me from that mysterious, yet fascinating unknown voice. ‘You were never this difficult before.’ the voice reprimanded and then it was silent for a few minutes.

‘Oh, fine. I’ll do as you ask, when I’m done, tell me this fairytale you wish to tell me and leave me alone.’

The voice remained silent for a moment longer and then it spoke. ‘It is not that simple my love, you and I are binded together.’

I laughed. ‘That is comforting to hear.’ I stood up and began to slowly walk toward the tomb. The tomb seemed large in the dark; it loomed closer and closer in front of me. At the entrence, I stopped, a little uncertainly.

‘Go in, it is fine, my beloved, you are safe.’ The voice tried to reassure me, though it didn’t work.

The night seemed incredibly loud, as foot by foot, step by step, I reentered a world I had known once before.

‘You will be fine, my wife.’ The voice said softly in my ear- as if it were speaking in a whisper.

I shuffled forward, feet moving to the steps. If the voice told me to go in the day, I would be less afraid, but it was not so.

I stopped at the steps that descended into the pitch darkness of the tomb of the newly found boy King. My husband.

I did not think this was true, but the voice in my mind was determined that I believe it was, so I would at least listen to him.

“Tutankhamun,” I whispered the name into the dark night. He had told me he was the owner of the tomb that was found today and I had seen the name Tutankamun on the door leading into the tomb.

‘I am here. He said and I felt a gentle breeze brush against my cheek. I was afraid, but he had assured me that I was safe with his answering reply.

Egypt – even at night – was sweltering hot, so I knew it was not a gust of wind that brushed against my cheek, as there was no wind tonight that would. I could not be sure, but it felt like the gentle touch of a hand.

'Where do you want me to go?' I questioned my silent and comforting companion.

'Into my tomb, dearest one.' Tutankhamun replied, pointing out the obvious.

‘I know, but where exactly?’ I had reached the sixteenth step, the last step.

‘I will guide you,’ he said. I heard a sigh from him. It seemed like a sigh of relief and appreciation. He was happy I was doing this for him; but I wanted to get it over with. Yet...

‘It is alright, you are safe,’ he repeated. ‘Just listen to me and no danger will come to you.’

“Danger?” I questioned aloud, my voice rising up an octave. I was not sure that I could take anymore shocks tonight.

‘You are fine, if you do as I say.’ Tutankamun replied still ever in my mind.

‘And how do I know you won’t put me deliberately in danger?’ I questioned him, not thinking of the response that would come from him.

‘Ankasanamun!’ Tutankhamun’s voice was sharp with anger. I detected a note of pain in the voice.

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ I comforted, my eyes filling with tears – his sharp tone had frightened me.

As absurd as this request was – to retrieve the bracelet he wanted –I would do it for him; for I admired him –he was my favourite pharaoh. I had read books about him, and from the scant information I had been taught, I knew he was an amazing pharaoh in his time.

‘Your my hero, do you know that?’ I smiled softly.

‘I’m sorry, forgive me, please?’ I said. I had accidentally let him read my thought, the one about him being my hero – that was private.

‘Of course, my wife,’ he replied. A flood of relief flowed through my body. If he were solid, I would have thrown my arms around him and wept into him, but he was not. I was alone with a ghost of his thought.

‘Come, I will be returned to you,’ he said. I smiled at the thought.

‘As my husband wishes. I will be glad to see you again.’

I entered the door of his tomb and I knew that he would protect me.

I silently walked through the corridors- the only noise was that of my sandals echoing on the stone floor. My eyes took several minutes to ajust to the gloomy darkness and when they had, I gasped aloud.

‘It is beautiful, isn’t it?’ He questioned, when he heard my gasp of amazement.

‘It is more than that.’ I replied, barely able to speak the words.

I gaped at the various items; all jumbled around the large anti-chamber.

The hieroglyphs on the walls showed so much detail; so much of his life. A little child among toys; a young man learning to fight and finally, the dead King, being laid down to rest.

“I am sorry.” I said into the silent tomb.

There were two statues at the end of the passage – which led to the burial chamber from the anti-chamber and to my eyes, they looked like gargoyles but they were not.

‘What are those?’ I questioned him.

‘They are life copies of me.’ He replied and I smiled.

I walked over to the stone guards and bowed.

‘May the Lord Re watch over you,’ the statue on my left said through stone lips, startling me.

‘Our master is pleased with you,’ the statue on my right said and I smiled, walking up to the door.

Through the doorway I went and there I stood, gazing at the now open sarcoficus which contained my Tutankamun’s body.

I walked over to the sarcoficus where my husband’s mummified body had rested for over three thousand years. The coughin was seven feet, four inches long- I had read the measurements later in Howard Carter’s journals that he let no one read. “The outer coffin had two smaller coughins nestled tightly inside it. All three coffins were mummiform and covered with a feather pattern. Their striped headdresses bore the vulture and cobra goddesses of Upper and Lower Egypt. The plaited, false beard of divinity adorned their chins, and each coffin held, in crossed arms, the crook and flail septers.

The surface of the outer coffin was modeled in low relief on gilded plaster, over wood, whereas the middle coffin, also wooden, was encrusted with semi-precious gems and colored glass inlay. On the third, or inner coffin, the patterns were engraved as fine lines on the golden surface.” Howard Carter’s style of writing was very descriptive and it was the only way that I could describe the resting place of Tutankamun.

‘The bracelet is on the table.’ Tutankamun said softly. I knew somehow, that he meant the golden table with the jewels on it.

‘Which one?’ I asked, gazing at the gold and silver and many other colours.

I picked several up and he remained silent. ‘Yes.’ His voice sounded pleased when I picked up the correct bracelet. I hoped he was happy.

‘Now what?’ I asked, holding the bracelet that had his ceal engraved on the inner band where it touched his skin.

‘Put it on.’ Tutankamun said simply.

‘Put it on?’ I asked, not sure if I should.

‘You put the amulet on, didn’t you?’ Tutankamun asked, again pointing out the obvious.

I slid the bracelet over my wrist and let it dangle on my thin arm.

Suddenly, I felt dizzy. The ground seemed to move, but it couldn’t have... Were there earthquakes in Egypt? No, it must be something else.

‘Come with me, back in time my dear.’ Tutankamun said, and I felt a solid hand slide into mine.

I glanced to my left and gasped. He was there, my Tutankamun was there.

I gazed openly at him, he was very handsome. He had pronounced cheekbones, and large eye orbits with elevated, arching brow lines. The bridge of his nose was shallow and slender, and it widened to a broad base with a rounded tip. The jawline tapered to a relatively small, recessive chin. Tutankamun smiled at me and I gasped. I remembered that smile. He wore the fabric headdress, called a nemes, which comprised of dyed linen with gold brocaded stripes. The diadem on his forehead was mounted on a band of gold. The images which were on his diadem were the royal vulture and cobra icons comprised of gold inlaid with the semi-precious stones of blue lapis lazuli, red carnelian, and the blue-green turquoise . The same materials were employed in the magnificent beaded yoke which Tutankhamun wore about his chest and shoulders.

We stood on a battlement looking down at the city of ancient Egypt. ‘Welcome home, my love.’ Tutankamun said softly.