by Joan Grant
“This story may seem hard to believe, yet if you think his foolishness passes understanding, do you not know one who is afraid to die? For if you do, you know one still more foolish than the man in this story I have just told you.”
And so ended my sad day.
But as time passed I got used to being in the temple.
The walls of my little room were of mud plaster painted white. They were very thick, so that no sound should call me back to Earth until I was ready to return. The bed had Anubis heads carved at its head and foot, and there was no other furniture except a chest to hold my clothes. There was a window high in the wall, and in a niche below it I kept a bowl of flowers, which were the last things I looked upon before I slept, instead of upon a white wall as was usual. Beside my bed I kept a tablet of wax, on which as soon as I returned to Earth I wrote that which would remind me of my dreams. And I had a little cylinder of stone with which I smoothed the wax before I slept, preparing it for the morning, just as I must smooth all the thoughts of Earth from my mind, so that it would be free to record those things I did and saw away from it.
At night, before I set my spirit free, I said this prayer:
“Anubis, teach me to become a maker of paths, so that I may be as thy symbol, the jackal, which can cross a desert on a night with no stars and leave a track which others may follow in the light. And by thy wisdom may I cross the chasm between this world and thine, and lead my people to thy country of peace.”
And in the morning, when I had recorded my little journey in the way of Anubis, I prayed to Ptah:
“Ptah, may my body be a vessel for thy life, so that on Earth I may be strong to do thy work.”
And at noonday I prayed to Horus:
“Horus, of thy wisdom let my life be the whetstone which sharpens my will, so that I may become a sword in thy army.”
Every morning I went to Ney-sey-ra and told him what I had recorded on my tablet. Often I would have met him in a dream in which he had told me that on waking I was to take him something to show that I had remembered meeting him; it might be a flower, or a pigeon’s feather, or a coloured bead. Sometimes I remembered exactly what he had told me, but at first I made mistakes; perhaps I would wake up remembering that I was to take him a flower, and I might take a poppy when he had told me to take a convolvulus. Then, when memory was clearer, it might be that I remembered it was an ear of wheat that I was to bring; and, thinking that that was clear memory, I would take one to him, only to find that I should have brought an ear from the garland round the third pillar in the Hall of Sanctuaries.
In this way and in many others did he help me to train my memory. He would tell me of things of Earth and of things away from Earth. And sometimes he told me stories of the Gods, and of great warriors in the Light, and of Pharaohs. And much that he told me was new to me; but that which I had heard before lived in his words, as when he told me the story of the great Meniss.
CHAPTER FOUR
The Story of Meniss
For two hundred and eighty years Meniss was rightful ruler of Kam: although many in turn held that name, it was as if one man renewed his body, as if his earth life were unbroken, so well did each continue the work of his predecessor. And Meniss shall be remembered through time as one great ruler.
The first Pharaoh to bear this name was one nearing the end of the long journey. Of his wisdom he planned much for the welfare of his country, but he knew that his body could not house his spirit long enough for these plans to be carried to fruition. So he chose one of his sons, who was a dreamer of true dreams, and taught him much while they were still on Earth; and after he died they met while the body of the second Meniss slept. And the elder counselled his son, so that the young Pharaoh had not only his own wisdom to guide him, but that of his father also.
And the time came when he was told by his father that there were many priests in Kam who were unworthy of their office. So he ordered his soldiers to drive them from the temples. But these priests of the Shadow, who reflected not the Light, but obscured it, had great earthly power: for their temples were rich, and the people had so long looked to them for truth that they knew not falsehood when they heard it from their lips. And the priests told the people that their Pharaoh was possessed of an evil spirit, and that to save their country they must destroy him.
It was decided to kill Pharaoh and his loyal soldiers on the first day of the Festival of Horus.
The young Meniss knew of this plan from his father, yet he still hoped that the Shadow might be lifted from his people. On the first day of the festival he sat alone upon the great single throne. Before him the dark floor of polished stone stretched to the open doors of the Hall of Audience, between a double row of round undecorated columns. Across the courtyard he could see the pylon of the gateway. There were no soldiers in the courtyard; for he said that if Pharaoh should need protection from his people, it would be as if a father feared his own children. So he waited there alone, to see whether this trust that he showed others would prove his truth to them who doubted him; whether it would teach them that where there is no fear there can be no treachery, and when there is courage there can be no betrayal.
But when he saw that those who came before him to bring tribute, brought not offerings, but daggers in their hands, he sat immobile, waiting for his death; so still, that he who stabbed him to the heart paused with upraised knife before he struck, thinking it was a statue.
Before his death, Meniss had sent his infant son secretly by night to a small fertile island among the sands, which lay fifteen days’ swift journey towards the setting sun from Abidwa. Here, as his father had told him, was a small temple of Tahuti, where the Light shone unobscured. And with the infant went his nurse, who had been to him as his mother, who had died in giving birth to him; and with them also went the Looker of the Royal Household and her husband, who was a healer priest, and fifteen soldiers of the Bodyguard, under a captain. They travelled upon large white asses, for carrying litters or ox-carts would have been too slow.
Here, in this little settlement of people, the boy grew up; and he married the daughter of the priestess and the healer; and a son was born to them, who in his turn took the name of Meniss. And when the son was sixteen he too married, and his son bore the name, so that the line of Meniss should be carried on unbroken, until the name of Meniss should once more be borne by a reigning Pharaoh. For ten generations these people dwelt here, and they were like a small dear flame in a great sea of darkness.
Everyone, from the high-priest to the children, cultivated the fields. They had no fish, and very little meat, except that of young male calves; for there was only sufficient pasture for cows that gave their milk, and not enough for bullocks to be fattened. They grew corn, beans and lentils, cucumber, radishes and garlic, melons and dates and pomegranates. They had goats from whose milk they made white cheeses; and sometimes they snared wild-fowl, during the passing of the great bird migrations, which stopped for rest and water on the little lake. This lake was always clear and cool, and from it came all the water of the settlement.
The houses were of mud-brick, roofed with a palm-leaf thatch, for there was no stone. There was no linen, except that which had been there before the death of the second Meniss; and there was no fresh papyrus, except some that was made from the fibre of the bark of palm trees; but this lasted not, and crumbled; and the scribes wrote upon clay tablets.
The people of this settlement multiplied themselves. And they lived as upon a little world of their own: for, beyond their near horizon, the high-priest made a great invisible wall of protection, so that any who came that way turned from their path and travelled outside this secret circle, yet knew not that their path had branched.
The Meniss were trained as priests of Anubis, so that when the word came, they might be ready to return and free their country. And all the children were examined by a seer when they were five years old, and according to the paths on which they walked, they were trained how best to help their coun
try. Some went to the temple and learnt how, in their several ways, to bring back true knowledge to Earth, or to charge sick bodies with new life. When the time came these would drive out the false priests, so that once again the people could go to the temples and hear that which they needed for the growth of their spirit from the lips of one who could say to them, ‘I, of my own knowledge, tell thee that this is Truth’.
And it was decreed…Others shall fly straight arrows and master the sword and spear, so that their muscles, smoothly as oil, obey their will. Their strength shall protect the weak and their might in battle shall protect their people from evil. They shall be true warriors, to whom a wounded enemy is a friend: and to the women of their enemy they shall give comfort and protection; and when they go to a new country, it shall be to build, not to destroy; to free, and not to chain; to give peace, and not fear; to give light unto their darkness.
And there shall be those who administer the land. They shall see that the balances in the market-places are true, so that each woman, or child, or husbandman, who brings the work of their hands in change for another’s, shall share contentment with the other.
They shall see that water runs freely to each garden and that none obstructs its flow of life.
They shall teach the people how best to tend their fields, so that the stalks of grain sway with the weight of the ear.
They shall see that none works his servant, be he man or animal, beyond his strength.
They shall see that no animal suffers from its master, unless he too receives an equal share of pain.
They shall see that no child fears an upraised hand or cries in hunger.
They shall see that the scribes record with truth that which they are told.
They shall see that the corn in the granaries falls not below ten cubits’ height, so that the people walk not in fear of famine.
They shall see that, if a lesser man cannot adjust a wrong, the path to Pharaoh be not obstructed.
And they shall be wise and impartial in all their works, so that the people in the land may say, ‘See, the scales in the market-places and in the places of judgment are as true as the Great Scales of Tahuti’.
When the twelfth Meniss was nineteen years old, the father of his line told him in a dream that the time was come when Meniss should rule again. And he was told to dress as a herdsman and go to Abidwa and mingle with the people, so that he might see what had befallen them under the Shadow.
And Meniss journeyed to Abidwa. He saw that in the great temple the statues of Anubis, Horus, and Ptah had been torn down and statues of Sekhmet put in their place. Walls had been built between the pillars, and all was dark except for a ray of light that shone through the roof and lit the eyes of Sekhmet, so that it seemed alive with the power of evil. Where had once sat a priest in counsel, now lolled the fat, swollen body of a boy with misshapened head; and from his lips came babblings at the bidding of the evil spirit who possessed his weakened body; and the dais on which he sat was stale with blood of many sacrifices. In what had once been the temple bathing-pool now crocodiles were kept, and to them were thrown any who dared cry out against the priests.
Then Meniss mingled with the people in the market-place, and he saw that the grain upon the scales was weighted by a stone; and that the fruit was sound only upon the top of the baskets, and the rest was blemished and rotten. And he saw, also, that the fields of the poor were barren for lack of water, because the channels were controlled by those more powerful. And he saw cattle whose backs festered with running sores. Filth and rotting food lay in the streets, so that the air was choking-thick with flies, which clustered round the eyes of children and shared their scanty food, even between a baby’s lips and its tired mother’s thin and flaccid breast.
Everywhere he heard murmurings of unrest, yet each who spoke, spoke fearfully, lest in his hearing might be a temple spy.
Then Meniss went to the soldiers’ courts, and he found that the captains wore gold pectorals, for they had become rich by bribes. But soldiers are simple people without guile, and evil teaching is soon forgotten by them and dies, as when a poisonous weed is planted in dry sand. And Meniss talked to them, saying he was a captain from the rebellious North. And they said that if they had a rightful leader again, they would follow him against the evil priests. And Meniss told them that in a secret place, their true Pharaoh waited to lead them from oppression; and that they would know him, for he would wear the White Crown of old and carry in his hand the Crook and Flail of Meniss. And the soldiers promised him that when they saw their true Pharaoh, they would follow him and sweep evil from their land as cleansing fire purges a field from blight.
And Meniss heard that at the next full moon the priests were placing yet another puppet king upon the throne. So he talked to his high-priest in a dream, telling his people to journey swiftly to Abidwa and wait for him outside the city, where he would join them.
And the people came. Then Meniss for the first time took up the Flail and buckled about him the golden belt, which had been rescued from the body of his great father by one who loved him and who had brought it at peril to the settlement.
Dressed as Pharaoh, and followed by two hundred warriors, he entered the soldiers’ courts; and they welcomed him as their leader. Then through the city he led them, and men and women cried their joy at a deliverer. When he reached the temple, he halted his followers and went up the steps, alone. There, with his priests beside him, stood the high-priest of Sekhmet. And as the people watched in a deep silence, Meniss and the high-priest challenged each other’s will. Standing immobile, they fought with power, their wills burning through their eyes like white-hot rods. They never moved, though sweat of effort cloaked them. At last, the high-priest wavered, and as though mighty hands down-pressed upon his shoulders, he sank at Pharaoh’s feet and lay grovelling on the steps.
Then did the other priests of Sekhmet, seeing the greatest of them bowed to shame, his will broken like a splintered sword, try to escape. But their way was barred by a fence of levelled spears, which, slowly advancing, silent as a rising flood, drove them towards the pool, until their feet found space beneath their backward footsteps and they joined their victims with the crocodiles.
The last Meniss ruled his country gently and wisely for fifty-seven years, and during his reign the plans of the first Meniss flowered. His people flourished under the Light like corn-fields in the sun, for the temples were true temples, where the parched in spirit could quench their thirst in the waters of wisdom; the justice of the land was the Scales of Tahuti, and the granaries were filled ten cubits high, and none walked in fear of famine, either of truth or of bread.
And though Meniss grew long in earth years, until he died he was a master of chariots and a mighty spearman; and when he died, all his people unto the youngest of them felt the loneliness of one whose father has left Earth.
I had heard the story of Meniss when I was a child, but when Ney-sey-ra told it to me it was as though the scenes were taking place before my eyes. I asked him why this should be, and he answered, “I have read the records of these things, therefore in the jar of my memory they are also recorded. Last night while we slept, I shared this part of my memory with you, and so this story has now become a part of your reality.”
I asked him how memory could be shared, and he said, “Think of two bowls of water, in each of which swims a fish. The fish symbolizes pure spirit, and the water symbolizes the memory of all experiences that the spirit has undergone. Every spirit is limited by its own experience, just as the world of the fish is limited by the water in which it swims. Now imagine that these two bowls of water are poured into a large vessel, so that each fish can swim as freely in the water from the other bowl, as in its own. Even so can our memories become one at will and your spirit can share my experience. But the time has not yet come when you can do this unaided.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Night in the Sanctuary of Anubis
When I had been three years in the temple
, Ney-sey-ra told me that henceforward, on the night of each full moon, he would watch the progress of my memory while I slept in one of the rooms of peace beside the Sanctuary of Anubis. These rooms are cleansed with power, so that no spirit can enter into them unless its body is there also. This is done as a protection, so that no evil one, who might wish to soot the Mirrors of the Gods, can wait to attack them at the moment of their return to their bodies, which is the moment when the spirit is most vulnerable and when memory is most difficult to hold.
While I slept Ney-sey-ra would take me to many places away from Earth, and he would watch how I worked in the Light under his direction. And in the morning, as soon as I awoke, I would tell him how much I had remembered; and he would tell me what I had reflected truly, what I had distorted with my Earth thoughts, and of what I had brought back no record.
On the first night I spent in the sanctuary it was long before I slept. I was alone in the temple, for the pupils’ quarters and the houses of the priests were outside the inner wall. A thick curtain closed my room from the sanctuary. There was no window, and when I put out the lamp, which I could not re-kindle, the darkness was heavy upon me. I thought of the darkness, and of the statues staring between the pillars. I heard a rustling sound and was frightened; I hoped it was only a bird that had flown into the sanctuary. Never before had I realised how dark a room could be; it made no difference if my eyes were shut or open. I had never slept with even a curtained window, and now it felt as if the walls were closing in on me till the room was small as a sarcophagus. I nearly ran out into the friendly moonlight of the courtyard, but I knew that if I did, Ney-sey-ra would be disappointed in me. I wondered if I should ever be strong enough to undergo initiation, when I must be alone in darkness and silence for four days and four nights, and before returning to my body, must undergo the great ordeals which might kill me if I failed.
