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All this we hardly noticed. One by one, every person on the boat turned eyes to the west and to the incredible sight that stood there.

“The great pyramid of Khufu,” said Nefertu, in a whisper. Even he was awed by it. “It has stood for more than a thousand years. It will stand until the end of time.”

It was an enormous pyramid of dazzling white, so huge and massive that it beggared all comparison. There were other pyramids nearby, and a great stone carving of a sphinx rested to one side, as if guarding the approach. Colonnaded temples flanked the road that led to the great pyramid; they looked like tiny doll houses next to its ponderous immensity.

The pyramid was faced entirely with gleaming white stone, polished so perfectly that I could almost make out the reflection of the sphinx in it. The cap, big enough to hold Priam’s palace, but merely the tip of this awesome structure, blazed in the sunlight. It was made of electrum, an alloy of gold and silver, Nefertu told me. That is what had caught the morning sun when it had first arisen.

This was the place where I was to meet the Golden One. This is where I had to be to revive Athene. Yet our boat glided past.

As I watched, the dazzling white surface of the pyramid facing us slowly began to change. A great eye appeared, black against the white stones, and stared directly at us. A moan went up from everyone aboard, including me. Several of the Hittites fell to their knees. I felt the hairs on my arms standing on end.

Nefertu touched my shoulder, the first time he had put a hand on me.

“Do not be afraid,” he said. “It is an effect caused by the sun and certain small stones that have been set out along the pyramid’s face to cast a shadow when the sun is at the proper angle. It is like a sundial, except that it shows the Eye of Amon.”

I tore my gaze away from the optical illusion and looked down at Nefertu. His face was grave, almost solemn. He was not laughing at the awe and fear he saw in the faces of his barbarian visitors.

“As I told you earlier,” he said, almost apologetically, “there are no words that can explain the great pyramid, or prepare you for your first sight of it.”

I nodded dumbly. It was difficult to find my voice.

The great Eye of Amon disappeared as quickly as it had opened, along about noon. Shortly afterward, the figure of a hawk manifested itself on the southward face of the pyramid. We spent the entire day watching the pyramid; not one of us could tear our eyes away from it for very long.

“It is the tomb of Khufu, one of our greatest kings, who lived more than a thousand years ago,” Nefertu explained. “Within its mighty stones is the king’s burial chamber, and other chambers for his treasures and retainers. In those bygone days, the king’s household servants were sealed into the pyramid along with his embalmed body, so that they might serve him properly when he arose.”

“The servants were sealed in alive?” I asked.

Nefertu said, “Alive. They went willingly, we are told, out of their great love for their master, and in the knowledge that they would be with him in the afterlife.”

The expression on his lean face was difficult to read. Did he believe these stories, or was he merely transmitting the official line to me?

“I would like to see the great pyramid,” I said.

“You have just seen it.”

“I mean close up. Perhaps it is possible to enter…”

“No!” It was the sharpest word Nefertu had ever spoken to me. “The pyramid is a sacred tomb. It is guarded night and day against those who would defile it. No one may enter the tomb without the special permission of the king himself.”

I bowed my head in silent acquiescence, while thinking to myself, I won’t wait for the king’s permission. I will enter the tomb and find the Golden One waiting for me inside it. And I will do it tonight.

Our boat finally docked at a massive stone pier on the southern end of the city. As usual, Lukka and his men went out into the city with Nefertu’s guards. But I noticed that there were other guards from the city itself standing at the end of the pier. They would not allow anyone to pass unless Nefertu or some other official permitted it.

Helen, Nefertu, and I had dinner together aboard the boat: fish and lamb and good wine, all brought in from the city.

Nefertu told us many tales about the great pyramid and the huge city of Menefer. Once it had been the capital of Egypt — which he always referred to as the Kingdom of the Two Lands. Originally called the City of the White Wall, when Menefer became the capital of the kingdom its name was changed to Ankhtawy, which means “Holding the Two Lands Together.” Since the capital had been moved south, to Wast, the city’s name was changed to Menefer, meaning “Harmonious Beauty.”

To Helen, speaking Achaian, the city’s name was Memphis.

Impatiently I listened to their conversation as they dawdled over dinner. Finally it was finished and Nefertu bid us good night. Helen and I spent another hour or so simply staring at the city or, across the river, at the great pyramid and the other pyramids flanking it.

Khufu’s massive tomb seemed to glow with hidden light even long after the sun had gone down. It was as if some eerie form of energy was being generated within those titanic stones and radiating out into the night.

“It must have been built by the gods,” said Helen, whispering in the warm night as she pressed her body close to mine. “Mortal men could never have built anything so huge.”

I put my arm around her. “Nefertu says that men built it, and the others. Thousands of men, working like ants.”

“Only gods or titans could build such a thing,” Helen insisted.

I recalled the Trojans and Achaians who believed that the walls of Troy had been built by Apollo and Poseidon. The memory, and Helen’s stubborn insistence, put a slightly bitter tang in my mouth. Why do people want to believe that they themselves are not capable of great feats? Why do they ascribe greatness to their gods, who are in truth no wiser or kinder than any wandering shepherd?

I walked Helen across the width of the boat’s deck, so that we were facing the city.

“And this mighty pier? Did the gods build this? It’s far longer than the walls of Troy. And the obelisk at its end? The temples and villas we saw today? Did the gods build them?”

She laughed softly. “Orion, you’re being silly. Of course not; gods don’t stoop to building such mundane things.”

“Then if the mortal men of this land could build such giant structures, why couldn’t they build the pyramids? There’s nothing terribly mysterious about them; they’re just bigger than the buildings of the city — it took more manpower and time to build them.”

She dismissed my blasphemy with bantering. “For a man who claims he serves a goddess, Orion, you certainly show scant respect to the immortals.”

I had to agree. I felt scant respect to those who had created this world and its people. They felt scant respect for us, torturing and killing us for whatever strange purposes moved them.

Helen sensed my moodiness and tried to soothe me with lovemaking. For a few moments I forgot everything and allowed my body to blot out all my memories and desires. Yet when we clutched each other in the frenzy of passion I closed my eyes and saw the face of my beloved Athene, beautiful beyond human mortality.

Her bantering mood had changed, also. Whispering in my ear, Helen pleaded, “Don’t challenge the gods, Orion. Please don’t set yourself against them. Nothing good can come of it.”

I did not reply. There was nothing I could say to her that would not either be a lie or cause her more worry.

For a while we slept wrapped in each other’s arms. I awoke to the slight rocking of the boat and the subdued sound of men’s muffled laughter. Lukka and the others were coming back. It must be nearly dawn.