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The Division of AmunOn the eve of his return to Memphis, Hori reviews the troops of the Division of Amun, the Elite troops favored by his grandfather, Seti.
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We will miss you...
The words sounded in Hori's mind the next day as the Division of Amun passed in review before him. He knew this corps from his grandfather's days. It had passed in review once, as he and his grandfather had stood in the drifting haze of a hot summer morning. The heavy infantry had come past them first, bearing long, arch-topped shields covered with bull hide, wearing tunics armored with bronze scales. A forest of bronze-tipped spears bristled above them. The Medjay troops had come next. They were famous archers and ferocious fighters that had served as Kings' bodyguards, patrolled the necropolis and fought in His Majesty's battles. Hori remembered clapping his hands in delight and seeing the commander of the troop bring his fist to his heart with a smile-a salute to the child he had been. His Grandfather had nodded as they swung past. Squadrons of chariots, their spokes painted yellow and red, the teams' reins passing through shining bronze rings to keep them from tangling. The horses' manes had been roached, and the officers' teams had feathers in their bridles. Nothing had changed in the ten years that had passed. He was seeing the same sights, the same people, the same sifting motes of haze that lent a golden sheen to the men and horses. Nothing had changed. And for one crazy moment he felt in his heart that if he were to turn his head--quickly--and look, he would see his grandfather watching him with smiling dark eyes. He looked down. Such thoughts were foolish, thoughts to beguile a wondering child, to reassure... And yet... He looked to his left and for a moment the eyes of his heart saw the dark eyes, the quiet smile, the weight of his grandfather's hand on his shoulder. His eyes stung. So far away... Never to return to this world... He lowered his head and then lifted his chin as he realized that the passing soldiers were wondering why he was standing with bowed head amid the trumpet calls and thudding feet, the cheering - He stood with raised head and smiling lips and thought of his grandfather, so dearly missed, as tears rolled down his cheeks. |
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