Tutankhamun: The Book of Shadows Read Online Free PDF

our lives. There is affluence and work, and we keep our fine houses and our servants. Perhaps for us it is a fair compromise. But I imagine you witness a very different side of life?’ said a tall, elegant gentleman, bowing and introducing himself to me as Nebi, an architect.
    â€˜Or perhaps you really do see the awful reality of things as they are, from which we, living within the charmed circle of our comfortable lives, remain defended,’ added the poet with a touch of the supercilious in his tone.
    â€˜Why don’t you accompany me one night, and find out?’ I said. ‘I could show you the back streets and the shanties where honest but unlucky people survive on the rubbish we all throw out without thinking. And I could introduce you to some very successful career criminals, experts in viciousness and cruelty, who trade in humans as a commodity. Many of themhave fine offices in the city, and beautiful wives and children set up in lovely homes in the comfort of the new suburbs. They throw lavish dinners. They invest in property. But their riches are made in blood. I can show you the reality of this city, if that is what you are looking for.’
    The poet put his stubby hands to his forehead theatrically.
    â€˜You are right. I leave reality to you. I cannot bear too much of it–who can? I admit I am a coward. Blood makes me faint, I hate the look of poor people and their awful clothes, and if someone even knocks into me accidentally in the street I shriek in fear I am about to be robbed and beaten. No, I prefer to stay within the safe, well-behaved company of words and scrolls in my comfortable library.’
    â€˜Even words are not perhaps safe in these times,’ said another man, standing at the back, in the best part of the awning’s shade. ‘Remember we are in the presence of a Medjay officer. The Medjay itself is part of the reality of this city. It is not immune from the corruption and decadence of which we speak.’ And he looked at me coolly.
    â€˜Ah. Sobek. I wondered whether you would join us,’ said Nakht.
    The man he addressed was of late middle age, with short grey hair untouched by dye. He had striking grey-blue eyes, and a touch of anger at the world written into his features. We bowed to each other.
    â€˜I do not think speech is a crime,’ I said carefully. ‘Although others might disagree.’
    â€˜Indeed. So crime depends on its enactment, not its intention or articulation?’ he asked.
    The others glanced at each other.
    â€˜Yes, it does. Otherwise we would all be criminals, and all behind bars.’
    Sobek nodded thoughtfully.
    â€˜Perhaps it is the human imagination that is the monster,’ he said. ‘I believe no animal suffers from the torments of the imagination. Only man…’
    â€˜The imagination is capable of enacting the very best in us, and the very worst,’ agreed Hor, ‘and I know what mine would like to do to some people.’
    â€˜Your verse is torment enough,’ quipped the architect.
    â€˜And that is why civilized life, morality, ethics and so on, matter. We are half-enlightened, and half-monstrous,’ said Nakht assertively. ‘We must build our civility upon reason and mutual benefit.’
    Sobek raised his cup.
    â€˜I salute your reason. I wish it every success.’
    He was interrupted by a roar from below in the streets. Nakht clapped his hands, and shouted:
    â€˜The moment has come!’
    There was a general rush towards the parapet of the terrace, and the men dispersed to compete for the best vantage points.
    Sekhmet appeared at my side.
    â€˜Father, father, come or you will miss everything!’
    And she dragged me away. Another vast cheer rolled like thunder all along the Way below us, and on and on through the crowds packed into the heart of the city. We had a perfect view of the open area before the temple walls.
    â€˜What’s happening?’ asked