Dream Boat Read Online Free PDF Page A

pleaded. Don't let him die.
    'Heed me, for I am Osiris, son of Ra. Follow me along the path to purity and blessedness, because only through me can you, when the time comes for hearts to be weighed against the Feather of Truth, advance to the Fields of the Blessed.' He paused and spread his hands in supplication to the sun. 'Father,' he said solemnly, 'Father, I am ready.'
    Softly the drumbeat began again, this time with two fleece-tipped sticks. The High Priest lifted his eyes to an archer, stationed high on the wall and asked, 'And you, my child? Are you ready?'
    The archer bowed, placed one hand upon his knee and said, 'With your blessing, master, I am.'
    'Let it begin.'
    At the High Priest's holy benison, the congregation fell to its knees. With his long shadow stretching out behind him, the archer straightened up and put an arrow to his bow. Twang!  Straight to Osiris's heart! With a strangled cry, Osiris fell back, caught by falcon-headed Horus and by Thoth. Her hands to her feline face, Bast pushed past the others, who quickly gathered round the stricken body as the cat goddess cradled his head in her lap. Twice Osiris's legs thrashed, his arm twitched, then with an arch of his back, he slumped and lay still. Mumbling broke out among the deities as, wailing, they fell upon one another, hugging and weeping, the cobra with the crocodile, the vulture with the cow.
    Down on her knees, Donata felt herself sway, oblivious to the moans and sobs which had broken out around her, and when Horus pulled a bloody arrow from the lifeless body of Osiris, Donata felt as though a knife had plunged into her own heart. What now? she thought, watching the plumed crown rock back and forth upon the ground. What happens to us now?
    'Silence!' The High Priest tried to stem the mounting hysteria, as calls for the archer's own life grew stronger and more urgent. 'Our brother has suffered enough, let him be!' The devastated archer had broken his bow in two and cast his quiver to the ground. Now he beat his breast with a violence shocking to behold. 'Remember, it was the wish of Osiris himself that the archer should fire.'
    Donata fought for breath. Shot through the heart with an arrow, surely Osiris could not return? But no, you must be strong, she commanded herself. Osiris has told us he is immortal and that, through him, the gift of immortality can be bestowed upon his people. Her eyes misted. Supposing, though, his heart was false? Supposing he had lied to her -to them all - and this was not possible . . . All her hopes and dreams would turn to dust, everything she believed in would tumble to the earth, crushed and broken.
    The drumbeat changed again. Solitary strokes, loud and sombre. Boom. Anubis, with his jet-black jackal head, walked across to lay the Sacred Balance beside an alabaster sphinx upon a table of black granite. Boom. Black and white. Evil and good. Boom. On one side of the scales, Anubis laid a dripping lump of meat, and Donata's stomach turned when she realised this was Osiris's bloody heart. Boom! With the utmost care, Anubis placed the ostrich feather on the other plate and, with an audible hiss of relief as he stepped back, he watched them balance . . .
    A cheer rose up, but Anubis cut it short. Osiris was dead and his heart weighed true, but could he be reborn? Yes, could he? wondered Donata. Purely through the way of righteousness, could Osiris be resurrected from the dead?
    As cow-headed Hathor, her soft mouth offering up silent prayers, bent low over the corpse, Anubis replaced the heart into the bloody body and purified his hands in the bowl of holy water proffered by the shaven-headed priest. Donata held her breath as the jackal leaned over the corpse.
    'Behold your son, O Lord of the West.' Even through the heavy mask, the voice of Anubis rang deep and melodious.
    'Behold Orisis, whose heart has been found to be without evil, and whose virtue Thoth has recorded, Thoth from