Mummies Alive!
THE PHAROAH SAGA


Part 1 - " A New King "

By Jena McWaithe


**Legal Stuff: The characters of the television show "Mummies Alive!" are copyrights of the Fox Network. The characters are used without permission and no copyright infringement is intended.

Inspired by the episode " Sleepwalk like an Egyptian."

The Story


The basic timeline of this story (online novel maybe) is a little fuzzy. Basically, the very beguinning to the very end covers all the way from the time King Amenhotep was crowned, all the way to the assassination of Prince Rapses and the consequences afterwards. A few of the main characters are there in the beguinning, most are there in the middle and all are in the story in the end. Most things included in this story I have tried to make as realistic as possible, both historically and as how FOX portrays it to have happened. However, beside that fact, there's bound to be something wrong with it :) All events and other characters not associated with FOX are from my own warped mind. They are just figments of my imagination on paper and by no means are exactly how the story goes.
Home
What's New
About the Show
The Main Characters
The Vehicless
The Episodess
Image Archive
Artwork
Fan Fiction
Visit the MA Chatroom
Links
Please Sign My Guestbook

**************************************

The Kingdom. His Kingdom. It streatched as far as the eye could see. The walkway of the palace was lined with pillars and ancient Spinx', the city wafted over the desert with a splender that even he had to admire, touched off with the corn flower blue of the River Nile flowing down the west banks of the wonderful capital.

Amenhotep had often spent his afternoons just staring out at the vast landscape that surrounded him. Although he was, in reality, one of the most powerful people in all of Egypt, he seemed to enjoy sitting by himself more that prancing about the village bossing others around to do his bidding. One of the reasons that he almost prefered his older brother Habus to soon be crowned as Pharoah. Although he would have enjoyed nothing more than to have the country in his power, Amenhotep also felt that his judgement would be misleading, and the young prince could not bear the thought of an entire country's destiny on his shoulders.

" Amen." He turned around towards the tall stone pillars surround- ing the hallway of the castle. Facing him, was his brother Habus, standing with his father's chief advisor Kohemphet. In his brother's right hand was a scroll, and in the other one he held a copper spear, sharpened to perfection with the Pharoah's insignia on the end.

" Good day." He greeted them, getting up off the stone bench. " Is everything well?"

Habus looked at the spear he held in his hand, then at Kohemphet. The older man nodded. " Actually," He began. " It is not."

The young prince looked oddly at his brother. " What is the matter? Are the slaves at Thebes rebeling again?"

" If only it were that simple." Habus walked towards Amenhotep. He bent down so he was at eye level with his younger brother, and placed his right hand, still concealing the scroll, on his shoulder.

" We are going into battle. Visiters from the west wish to conquer Egypt, and all the finest soldiers from all the greatest cities are joining us."

" What do you mean, us?" He asked, placing his own hand over his brothers.

Habus hesitated and sighed greatly. " Father is leading the army. We will be setting up camp in Gizeh, and hopefully, should be back in the course of a month."

" What?!" Amen pulled away from him. " War? Why are you going, why is father? What about Thembher, he is the general of the royal army, is he not?"

" Young prince," Kohemphet stepped forward out of the shade of the palace's large overhanging. " Everything will be fine. The best these foreigners have to offer is a small band of natives, and perhaps some horsemen from Jericho..."

" Then why is the entire royal army going to meet them? Kohemphet, you are father's advisor, talk to him! Make him stay!" Amenhotep pleaded to the elderly man.

" There is nothing more to discuss." Habus told him softly. " The soldiers are already arriving and will not draw their weapons until King Amenphet has given them the order." He stood up, turning around to leave. " Trust me Amen, I would rather stay here." He then brushed passed Kohemphet, retreating to the comfounds of the palace.

Angrily, Amenhotep slammed his fist on the railing of the balcony. Things like this were always happening to him. He was always the last to know. Always the one left out. Amenphet was always telling him that he would make an excellent warrior. But his attension was always focused on Habus, the future king. Somehow, he felt unappreciated in the tall Pharoah palace.

" Young prince." He looked towards the man still standing on the large stone floor.

" Yes. " He grumbled, crossing his arms across the rock railing.

" Are you angry because your father and brother are going into battle, or are you mad because you were never told?" Kohemphet strolled over to the prince's side and also leaned against the rail. " You are the youngest therefore you feel like you are always left in the dark."

Amenhotep gazed at him, amazed. " How did you know?"

Kohemphet smiled and looked towards the the city of Memphis, looming over the horizon of sand and rock. " I am not your father's vizier for nothing."

" Ah." Amen nodded, brushing his cloak with his hand as he always did. The linen was soft under his fingers, but there were always small pieces of sand hidden in the fibres. It was one of the only things he thought never had an answer.

" I just always feel that, well, father and Habus are..."

" Young Pharoah," The advisor interrupted. " Maybe I am not the one you should be talking to about this." He bent close to the prince's ear, and quietly uttered the words " Your father is in his quarters, ready to leave, maybe you should go and speak to him before we depart."

Amenhotep smiled, his father hadn't yet left for Gizeh. " Thank you." he whispered back, hopping down from the stone bench, and racing as fast as he could into the palace, rushing past administrators and dignitaries to the main hall, and his father's chamber.

* * *


Amenphet finally finished packing his possessions into a small sack hanging from his shoulder. The sun shone through the doorway of the balcony looming over the royal menagerie. It cascaded over the smooth floor like a pool of water at sunrise, it's glow reaching over the king's bed and resting on a golden sword lying at the foot of it. He was just about to pick it up when a familiar voice echoes through the hall.

" I am in here." He answered, setting the sword handle back down on the plush matress. He knew that his son would be showing up, and was glad. They had a few things to discuss.

Amenhotep ran through the doorway, jumped over a spear set up against the wall and gave his father a big hug. " Oh father, I thought you would have left already!"

" I would never leave without saying good-bye." He told him, sitting his youngest son down on the bed, next to the sword. " Because I have something to talk to you about."

" What? You are not leaving?" He asked hopefully.

Amenphet laughed. " No, I am still going." His face suddenly got a solemn look on face, showing off his age more than usual.

" What is wrong?"

He began to speak in a very unusual tone, one that showed off authority, but also helplessness, and pain. " You know that your brother, Kohemphet and I must leave very soon." Amen nodded. " And I have just gotten word that we may be gone longer than we thought."

" Longer!" He exclaimed. " But one month is already too long. Oh father, why can I not come?" He pleaded. " I will stay out of your way and when you go into battle, I will stay in camp..."

" I was actually considering that." His father told him. " In fact, I had already told my advisors that you were to accompany us." Amenhotep's face suddenly cheered up as he thought that he was to leave with his father. " But, that was before I knew the seriousness of the situation."

The prince was confused. " But Habus said that it was only going to be a small battle."

" He would like to think that." The king stated. " In reality, it is a very dangerous trip we are about to take." Amenphet walked over to an unusual looking bookcase, each compartment containing scrolls of papyrus. He ran his hand over the first row, and pulled out the second scroll on the end.

He clasped it with his hand, and returned to his bed and his son, holding a slightly terrified look on his face.

The king handed it to the young prince. " This is something that I wish for you to have." Amenhotep looked at the seal. It was a wound golden snake covered in garnet and silver. He read the side of the serpent, it said " The Wishings of Amenphet."

" What is it father?" He asked, squinting his eyes to read the insignia once again. " A journal?"

" No." He answered without emotion. " It is something more than that." He clasped his hands firmly around his son's, the papyrus crinkling at the newly applied pressure. " You must promise me Amen, promise me that you will let nothing happen to this. Never let it out of your sight."

The prince looked at his father, a puzzled expression on his face. What could possibly be that valueble?

" I promise." He said with uncertanty. " But... why father?"

" Just keep it." He told him sternly. " And until the time you feel like it is your right to open it, it must remain sealed. Forever if necessary. The writings must not touch any other human eyes before your own. So I command."

The prince sighed. " Alright. But I wish you would stay here."

" So do I son." He assured him. " Trust me."

They sat there in silence for what seemed like hours. A knock at the doorway set everything back in motion. They both looked at who it was, and Kohemphet entered the room.

" Sire, the soldiers are waiting." He told him, bowing before the king and prince.

" Thank you." He told him, waving his advisor out the door. He did as commanded and exited the chamber.

" I must go now." He told Amenhotep. " And I just want you to remember something: Keep to your studies, remember that to earn respect, you must have honesty, and," He paused, looking down to the floor, then looking up once again into his son's sad green eyes. " Never let anyone tell you what to do."

" Yes sir." He whispered, letting his head fall to pere at the scroll he still held in his hand.

Satisfied enough, Amenphet grabbed the large sword handle, lifted it to his belt, and dropped it in a slot next to his right hip. He silently moved towards the door, never stopping, never turning around.

It was so quiet that the young prince thought he was alone. Slowly, he reached for the seal, ready to pull the papyrus free from the gold lock it was incased in.

" No." A stern voice said from the door. Amen looked up startled, to see the image of his father still standing in the doorway. He quickly slid the seal back into place and looked up with an apologetic expression.

His father's face was dead serious. He seemed to be nearly looking through his son, not at him.

" I hope to return soon." Was all he said. And was gone.

Amenhotep suddenly felt a twinge of fear in his heart. The emotionless expression, the dull eyes, the secrecy. It was almost like his father was never to return. Ever.

He could not have been more right.

* * *


" The King and princes have just left for Gizeh," The messanger read. " The battle will rage within days. There is no chance of survival." He finished, and rolled up the scroll he had just recieved. " That is all our informant could tell us my Lord."

" No matter," The dark form answered. " It is satisfactory information... for now." His long hand pointed towards the tall door at the end of the main hall. " Now leave."

" Yes Lord Scarab." He complied, rushing to the tall doorway and vanishing beyond the corner.

The wicked man felt an evil grin spreading across his face. It had been planned for so long. The northern forces would have never thought to attack Egypt. It was only through months of preparation that someone had delivered a rumon to them saying that all Egyptian armies were depleating to get them to attack. Now the war was on, and what a bloody war it was going to be.

He stood up off of his throne, consumed by the never present feeling of anxiety and excitement. He left the main hall, wandering purposefully down a long corridor, the floors of agate clicking with eached sandaled step. He finally found his destination. The end of the hallway.

He causiously walked over to the right wall. Hanging on it was a jeweled picture of the commoners of the city paying tribute to he himself. Beside it was a spearholder, clinging two golden spears bearing the king's name. He pulled on the first spear.

The wall in front of him began to shake. Suddenly, the entire thing began to shift left, revealing a stone staircase lined with everlasting torches, burning with a dark red flame.

Scarab began up the staircase, pulling on a torchlight so the wall behind him would close. The last thing he needed was some nosy servant walking around and finding the passageway.

He continued up the stairs, the lights casting eerie shadows across the dark walls. Finally, after walking for almost two minutes, he reached a tall, slim doorway and entered it.

Inside were many things. On the right were hundreds, maybe even thousands of papyrus scrolls, all placed evenly on shelves similar to the one found in Amenphet's room. Directly in front was a table with assorted wands, staffs, jewels and talismans covering the surface. And finally, on the left, a huge cauldron simmered slowly on a fire of black flame. This was the domain of a sorcerer.

" It's perfect." He said out loud. " If it were someone else's idea, I couldn't have planned it better myself."

" No one else could have." A strong hissing noise originated from beside the large bookcase. From an urn, a long, frightful gold cobra slithered over the chilled stone floor. " So, the plan is working?"

" The plan is working?" He repeated. " It is flowing along as smoothly as the River Nile. Heka, I can taste the status of Pharoah already."

The serpent cracked a cock-eyes look. " And what makes you think that you will be Pharoah after Amenphet? There are many other Lords and leaders in Egypt Scarab, most of which the King likes far better than you."

" Do not toy with me snake, or I shall return you to your lifeless form as a staff once again." He threatened, giving it a terrifying look.

As if stung by a bee, the serpent curled up into a golden ball. " Like I said 'O great one, how will you become king if Amenphet had so many close and personal friends?"

" That's better." He told her, walking over to his simmering cauldron. Waving one hand over it, the water transformed to a shimmering red pool. A small whirlpool began to develope in the center of the pot, the friction of the liquid glowing a brilliant yellow in the dull lamp light of the room.

" Magic is a powerful thing Heka," He began. " It can enduce, enhance and most importantly, control. By controling others, you can always get what you want."

Images suddenly began appearing in the whirlpool. One of an old man standing atop a pedestal, another of a tall bulky soldier holding a staff, and various other images of the most famous noblemen and friends of the Pharoah.

The sorcerer then walked over to the table. He grabbed a small bag and returned to the cauldron. " By using a spell that I learned a very long time ago. All these men would love the chance to be king..."

" And let me guess." Heka interrupted. " After you cast the spell, they... won't?"

" Precisely." He answered, spilling an ill-smelling clear powder into the red water. " In a matter of moments, it will be the farthest thing from their minds."

" So you shall be the King." The cobra thought it over. " But you're so old?"

The sorcerer slammer his fist against the wall. " I've told you one thousand and seventy times, I am not old!"

"Not physically." She pointed out, coiling up stiffly.

" Yes." He agreed, slinking over to the bookcase and pulling out a worn piece of papyrus. " It is a miracle though. Even before I started magic I have no idea of all the benefits. The fact that anyone that studies magic can live almost twice as long as someone who doesn't is truely remarkable."

" No one would ever believe that you're pushing sixty." The snake uncoiled and slithered over to her master's side. " You barely look a day over fifty-nine."

" Very funny." He said flatly. With the reflex of an adder, he quickly reached out and grabbed the gold snake by the neck (Base of the head?) and shook her furiously. " You would not talk that way to me if I were the Pharoah."

The serpent choked and wheezed under his strong grip. He loosened it up a little. Heka cleared her throat. " Don't you mean, when you're the Pharoah?"

Scarab smiled. Once again the quick-thinking staff had wormed it's way out of becoming a permanent fixture in his large villa. Carelessly, he dropped the cobra back into it's urn with a dull ping. He turned back to the scroll he was examining and began to laugh. Everything was finally going his way, and in a matter of months Egypt would be his. Evil laughter ran through the room and flowed through the corridor as a bright red cloud of smoke poured from the bubbling cauldron.

* * *


Water flew up in the air and splashed all over two chestnut brown stallions bucking around in the small stable behind the palace. Beside them was the royal charioteer Jerh, trying to clean them off from their long ride around the city walls. Amenhotep sat on a step across from him, his head in his hands and a dreary expression across his face.

" Young prince?" Jehr finished pouring water over the horses and retrieved a large towel from a railing opposite him. " Are you alright? You have not said two words since we left this morning."

" I'm fine." He reassured, staring off into space.

" Well, there are those two words." The charioteer joked, throwing the towel over the first horse.

" Jerh," Amenhotep lifted his head off of his hands.

" Yes."

" Do you think I am, well...useless."

At the young pharoah's words, the older man nearly dropped the second towel that he was carrying over to the second horse. " What?!" " Do you think I am useless?"

The charioteer flung the towel over the second horse and then stood up with his arms crossed across his chest. " First of all, why are you asking me this question, and second, where would you come up with such an obsurd notion?!"

" It has been almost two months since father and Habus left for Gizeh." Amen explained. " And I have not heard one thing about it. You are one of the most well-know and admired by those in the palace, so I though that you might know something."

" That still does not explain why you think you are worthless 'O prince." Jerh exclaimed, walking over to to the young pharoah.

" Well, I thought that, since father didn't take me...and I haven't heard from them. And no one will tell me anything, that..."

" Amenhotep, no one has heard anything. It is not just you." He stated, sitting down next to the prince. " The messenger has not arrived yet."

" Oh."

" And never, ever doubt yourself again." The charioteer told him, placing a firm hand on his master's shoulder. " You may be young, but you are also very smart, and will make a fine diplomat."

" But not a very fine soldier." He stated sadly, replacing his chin on his palms.

" It is for the better. Besides," Jehr stood up, pulling on the prince's arm for him to follow. " You have always caught me as a leader."

Amen laughed, following the chariot master over to the horses on the other side of the room. " Trust me, I am anything but a leader. I am too quiet, too much of a..."

" Follower? We have had this discussion before." Jehr rubbed the linen towel across the horse's back. " Amenhotep, whether you like it or not, you would make an excellent king."

" Sure, whatever." The prince crossed his arms across his chest. " Too bad we will never get to test your hypothesis."

A large, wailing voice pertruded through the stable window. The shouting came from in front of the palace, but the shrill voice echoed it seemed, across the entire desert. The words weren't clear, but the sound was loud enough to wake the dead.

" Who is that?" Amen asked, running over to the adobe doorway.

" Zefur, the royal messenger." Jehr told him, walking over to the prince. " What could he be yelling about this early in the morning?"

Amenhotep rubbed his chin, in thought. His eyes suddenly brightened, a huge smile spreading across his face. " The war? Maybe it is over!" He shouted excitedly. " Maybe father and Habus are returning!" He leaped over the step in front of the doorway and raced towards the back entrance to the castle.

Jehr still stood there, listening to the shrill messenger's voice run through his head. It was always a joy to hear the news that Zefur brought, but it was different this time. Something, somewhere in his soul, he knew that something was wrong.

* * *


The prince ran across the menagerie and up the long staircase to the back doorway. But instead of running through it, he crossed the yard and raced along the wall of the palace. Jumping over a hedge, he saw the spectacle before him.

At the very edge of the city, there was a large cloud of dust pertruding from the horizon. Amen knew what was making too. Soldiers. Hundreds of them. They were marching back to the palace for a victory celebration.

He felt his heart skip a beat. They had finally returned. Now he could return to his usual activities, hunting with his brother, fencing with his father, and playing games of stratagie with Kohemphet.

Once again, he began to run, this time, into the palace. He had to get to the main hall, that was where the celebration would be held. He slid around corners and weeved his way through servants and diplomats visiting the city. Squeezing through a pair of large administrators, Amen raced into the main hall.

There was Zefur, reading a papyrus scroll in front of Phaleomphe, one of his father's oldest and dearest friends. Amenhotep always loved when Phaleomphe came down, they would do things that Amenphet wouldn't care for. Like riding horses, and fishing. He was more of an uncle than one of his father's diplomats.

" Phaleomphe!" He yelled, waving his hands in the air.

The nobleman looked over his shoulder to see who was calling his name. At the sight of the prince, however, he jerked his head away from him, never to greet or inform. Amenhotep found this troubling.

" Phaleomphe!" He shouted again, this time catching up to him.

" What are you doing here? How are you?" He asked inbetween breaths. He was breathing heavily, but tried to talk as much as possible inbetween puffs. " Are you, here, to see, father?"

The old man sighed greatly, a definite sign to Amenhotep that some- thing was quite not right. " No, Amen, I am not here to meet your father."

The prince was still excited. " Then you came here to spend time with me, until father got back. But you do not have to worry now, because the army is returning! They were victorious!" He exclaimed, running towards the large bay window with an excellent view of Memphis.

The army was coming down the main street before him. All the soldiers looked tired and sore, but the prince was just glad they were back. He looked around for the King, Habus and Kohemphet, but couldn't point them out in the crowd.

" That's funny," he stated, putting his elbows on the windowsill.

" I thought that the king was suppose to lead the army all the time."

" Amenhotep." A deep voice said from across the room.

" Yes." He answered, never leaving his sight from the street. A shadow fell over the teenage prince as Phaleomphe stood by his side. " There is something you should know..."

" Is father coming home later?" He asked, reaching over the sill to watch the army better.

The old man sighed again and placed a strong hand on the young prince's shoulder. " Amen, your father...he is..."

" He is what?" The prince asked, looking up at him. " Late? Sick? Tired?"

" He is not coming home." Was the only way he could put it.

" Oh." The prince said, strangely relieved. " So he got detoured. No matter, when he does get home, then we will celebrate." Amenhotep then walked past him in the direction of the doorway.

" Your highness." Zefur called, standing in front of him. " I am afraid that Phaleomphe is correct." He also looked weary and forlorne. He held up the papyrus scroll.

" So?" He asked, putting his hands on his hips. " When he gets home, we will..."

" It began early morning," Zefur read from the scroll. " And lasted so long. The battles raged on for months, our soldiers falling and conquering all at once. Slowly, the enemy forces were drawn back, the king's army reigning victorious. The night of the full moon, the battle was won, and we all feasted in the king's name. The next day, we were all saddened to find the royal hut in ruins. Inside were the remains of the entire royal family and staff, stabbed and hung by their ankles..."

" What is that you are reading?!" Amen ran towards the messanger, grabbing the sheet away from him and examining it.

" It is a short journal." Zefur told him, gently trying to pull the papyrus back. " From one of the soldier's stationed at the king's camp."

Amenhotep began reading more. " It seemed that while we were sleeping, intruders invaded the camp, and murdered them all," The paper fell lifelessly to the floor, the young prince staring off into dead space. " In cold blood."

Phaleomphe rushed towards him. " My prince, there are no words to..."

" We are very, very sorry." Zefur interrupted, trying to comfort the painstruck boy.

Amenhotep never felt that way in his entire life. It was almost as if the castle walls were falling in, burying him underneath the rocks and rubble. Yet, he also felt lucky, because if his father had let him come, he would also have died.

" If there is anything I can do 'O prince." Amen left his trance and glanced up toward the two men standing before him. They were now stationed in his quarters, but the boy had no recollection of how he had gotten there.

" I... I don't..." He began, trying to pronounce the right words.

" That is alright." Phaleomphe told him, bending down on one knee.

" You would probably like some time to yourself, wouldn't you?"

" Yes." He whispered, gripping his cloak with both hands.

" And if there is anything we can do, any questions that we may answer, just ask." Zefur announced.

Amenhotep looked down at the cobble floor. He did have a question, but now may have not been the time to ask it. He didn't want to sound heartless.

" Amen?"

The young prince raised his head, trying to hold back his silent tears. " If father is dead, who will be king?"

* * *


" Is this report reliable?" Scarab stood up off of his small throne, the golden snake staff intwined in his long bony fingers.

" Yes my lord." The messenger wrapped up the scroll quickly. " The news is quickly spreading of the royal family's deaths. King Amenphet and Prince's Habus and Amenhotep, are dead." There was a wave of pain in the servants voice as he said it.

The sorcerer sat down slowly in his seat, trying to contain his excitement and relief of the present news. " I see." He told him, stationing the staff on the arm of his chair. " This is indeed a sad day for Egypt. I shall prepare to leave for Memphis immediately." He then stood up once again, picked up the staff and began to walk down the stairs towards his chambers.

" But, Governer, sir." Scarab turned around to face the messanger once again.

" What?" He asked in annoyance.

" Why are you leaving so soon? The death ceremony will not be for a few days yet."

He smiled a wickedly clever smile. " For the coronation you ignorant fool." He answered. " A country cannot survive without a king, and I plan to be crowned as soon as possible."

" But sir..."

" Now get out of my sight." The governer ordered warningly. Under- standing, the servant bowed and left the room as quickly as possible without drawing suspision.

Once the sorcerer entered his room, he let out an inhuman laugh. His plan had worked. For a time, he though it wouldn't have. The king had never been in the right place at the right time, and no one had ever spoken a word about the prince's appearance.

" So, I bet you're pretty happy right now." The snake staff suddenly came to life, slithering around in her master's fingers.

" More so than I have ever been in my entire existence." He confirm- ed, dropping the cobra down on the bed. He walked out onto the veranda and looked down towards the stable. " As soon as I get ready, we will leave for Memphis."

" Are you sure that you will be the only Lord there?" Heka asked, winding her tail around the armband of a leather sack and pulling it up on the bed. " Maybe your spell missed someone?"

Scarab looked at her with an unenthusiastic glance. " I do not make mistakes in magic. I am an expert." He added, returning back into the bedroom. He grabbed the bag away from the serpent's grasp, and left the room as quickly as he had come in.

The cobra looked at him in amusement. " Well, you know what they say. Unlucky in love, lucky in magic."

* * *


Thembher paced impatiently in front of the prince's chamber. Although he was the general of the royal army, there was no way that he couldn't act sympathetic around the young prince. In a mere few days, he had lost his entire family and many dear friends that worked in the palace. Even the death of the queen so many years ago had not been this tragic for him.

" Thembher," The general stopped his pacing and turned around. In front of him, Jerh stood with his arms crossed. " If you do not mind, I wish to speak with Prince Amenhotep."

" The prince as told me that he does not want to be disturbed." He told the charioteer. " Ever since Lord Scarab arrived here from Thebes, he has not wanted to discuss anything with anyone."

" He will talk to me." Jerh insisted, walking up closed to the general. " We talk about things that he never speaks to anyone. And now, I think the time has come to speak about this."

" What? You mean the fact that Lord Scarab will be king?" Thembher aknoledged. " Amenhotep wishes not to talk about it."

" Not to you Thembher." Jerh enlightened. " Just let me talk with him, and if he does not wish to speak, then I will leave."

Thembher looked at his with pure ignorance. " You, charioteer, wish to do better than I, the general of the entire royal army?" He pulled back the drapes of Amenhotep's chamber. " Then be my guest."

Confidently, Jerh strolled past the general's smug look and through the doorway of the prince's room. Inside, the atmosphere was not like it had been so many other times he had come here. Usually, it was filled with life, the prince either practicing with his small sword or jumping up and down on the plush bed. Now, the sword was hiding in it's sheath in the corner of the room, and the bed was only being used for greaving, not for the childish amusement that it use to.

Lying on the bed, was Amenhotep. He was lying on his stomach with the pillow pulled up underneath his chin. Plates of uneaten food were stationed beside the foot of the bed, and glasses of water remained untouched

" Young prince." The figure on the bed never moved a muscle.

" Prince Amenhotep." Jerh walked slowly into the room. " Young prince, I think we must speak about what is about to happen."

" I do not wish to talk. " Was the only reply he got.

" But Amen," The chariot master disputed, dropping the formalities.

" It is not healthy to keep feeling bottled up inside. I know you are not very pleased with what is about to happen."

" Why would I be pleased?" The prince said louder and with more authority. " A stranger is about to take over my father's entire estate. The prince is suppose to become king after the father, isn't he?"

" Yes, but you are too young." Jerh reasoned. " And besides that, the kingdom was left to Habus, not to you. You cannot claim it as your own, and because of that, a governer must take over." He put a hand on his chin. " Still, it is strange that Lord Scarab was the only one to show up."

" I don't care." The prince said, sitting up from the pillow. " He was never one of father's friends and I do not want him to be king."

" But there is no one else. Everyone else elligible did not want to come."

" What?!" Amenhotep yelled in disbelief. " What about Phaleomphe? He would make a great king!"

" But he did not wish to infringe on your father's position. To him, it would be like betraying the Pharoah."

The prince heaved a great sigh and sat on the edge of his bed. It was completely hopeless. In a matter of days the kingdom would belong to Scarab and the importance of the prince's presence would be seriously questioned.

Jerh stared absently around the room. He felt awful, even more so than before. If there was just someway to make things right again. The fate of Egypt could not have been meant to end this was. He knew of Scarab to be a good diplomat, but was also vain, selfish and extremely irritable. To go to an extent, he might have even killed young Amenhotep when he dis- covered that he was still alive. There must be someway to make sure Scarab would not become Pharoah.

His gaze rested upon the nightstand beside the prince's bed. On it, one of many glasses of water, a pendant with the royal insignia carved on it, and a scroll with a golden cobra encircling it.

He had never seen that before. He walked past Amen and over to the table. He picked up the papyrus scroll and examined the serpent seal. It was a very impressive piece of artwork, every scale was engraved on it and the eyes were so lifelike it wasn't funny. Jerh turned it over to look at the back. He was expecting to see more stutted jewels and scales, but instead, came the words " The Wishings of Amenphet" scrolled on it.

" Young Prince," He tapped the boy's shoulder. " What is this?" Amenhotep looked up with a groggy look. " What? Oh that. Father gave it to me before he left for Gizeh."

" Alright." Jerh exclaimed. " But *what* is it?"

" I do not know." He told him, standing up off the bed. " Father told me never to open it until I thought I was ready."

Jerh looked over the carving one more time. " Why do you not open it now? If it is from your father, maybe he wanted you to read it, if some- thing like this ever happened."

Amenhotep turned away. Maybe that was it. Father had given it to him just before he left for war. And maybe he wished him to keep it unless he...

" So father knew." He said quietly to himself.

" What was that my prince?" Jerh asked, handing the scroll to him.

" Nothing." Amen told him, taking the papyrus from him. He hesitated for a moment, then savagely ripped the golden seal off the scroll, the ring falling with a clang on the cobble floor.

Slowly, the prince unrolled the scroll. Hundreds of hyroglyphs popped out from the page. He began to go along the page, reading them one by one.

" What does it say my prince?" Jerh asked from behind him.

" It's a will." He told him. " It is my father's will." He began to read again. " I, Amenphet, King of Egypt, son of Resgerhet, husband of Ceriseh and father of Habus and Amenhotep, being of sound mind and body wish the following upon my deathbed." He stopped. " He did wish me to read it now." The prince smiled.

" Read more my prince." Jerh exclaimed, excited as well.

Amenhotep began again. " The place of my burial has already been determined. With me, I wish to be sent to the afterlife with all my personal possessions, except for my gold sword and Royal amulet. The amulet shall go to my son Habus, predecessor after me, and the sword to my youngest son Amenhotep. Wow." He cleared his throat. " On the event of my death, Habus shall exceed me as ruler. If something is to fall upon Habus, he shall be..."

" What is it Amen?" Jerh asked, still in awe.

" He shall be exceeded by his brother, the prince Amenhotep."

They both stood in silence, to let everything that they just learned sink in more throughly.

" He left his kingdom to me." The prince said in amazement.

" You are to be king." Jerh said after, as if under a spell.

" He left me the Kingdom!" The prince shouted suddenly.

" You are to be the King!" The charioteer yelled out. " This is excellent. " Young prince, you are to follow in your father's footsteps and be ruler of all Egypt."

" I must tell Thembher, we must stop Scarab from taking the throne!" Amenhotep rapped up the scroll and jumped up in delight.

" Then, we will celebrate!" Jerh said, holding his hands high in the air. " Your father was a brilliant man!"

" I just wish he would have made it clearer when I could open the scroll. If I had not now, Scarab would soon be King." Amen chuckled, toss- ing the scripture up into the air and catching it as it fell back to earth.

" I wonder what Scarab will say when he learns of this." Jerh said, clearly amused at what the governer's reaction would be.

* * *


Meanwhile, back at Thebes...

" Aaarg!" A huge blast of red energy illuminated the sky and explod- ed when it reached a huge boulder sticking out of the desert sand. A second blast sought out the remains of a tumbled wall, and like the first, blew apart the rocks, reducing the wall to ruble.

" Don't get testy." Heka told him, moving out of the sorcerer's reach. " So you won't get to be Pharoah and have made a total fool out of yourself in front out of the entire royal court. You still have your health."

A third blast explosed just short of the snake's body. " You will not for long, unless you keep your scaled mouth shut!" Scarab raged around in no direction imperticular, his fist glowing a bright blood red. " That little sneak, first he never goes to war, and now he holds the deed to Egypt! What are the odds of that?" Tired, he gripped his head and sat down on a stone bench stationed on top of the sands. " Heka, I feel faint."

" You were never one to listen to doctor's orders." She told him, slithering over to her master's side. " It isn't a good idea to get a hot collar in the middle of the desert."

" But that stupid, damned little..." He took a deep breath. " He even had the nerve to ask me if I wanted to be his advisor."

" So? Are you?"

" Are you out of your scales?" He asked her in ignorance. " If I cannot be Pharoah, then I want no part in the affairs of the royals."

" Scarab, I don't think you've thought this through." She told him, sliding her long body across his shoulders. " Amenhotep is what, fourteen, fifteen years old? He will need guidance and direction. And before he becomes old enough to make most of his own decisions, he will be very influencable." She spat, trying to get her last statement through to him.

" Hmmm." The sorcerer though. He had not thought about that. If her were the advisor of the young king, it would practically be like being the king himself. He would get the same respect, and make all the decisions.

" Good point." He told the serpent, grabbing her by the midsection and pulling her over his head to face him. " Sometimes I wonder why I keep you around."

" Because I'm a great financial advisor and your lonely for family and friends." She told him proudly.

" Whatever." He said, dropping the staff on the ground and stepping over her. " But right now I have to plan. The prince, king, can wait. I must get prepared."

" For what?" The cobra heaved, groggily getting up off the hard sandy floor.

" For royalty, dear Heka. In a matter of weeks, I will be practic- ally royalty."

" Good for you Scarab." She said, watching her master return to the large villa. " Set your career goals high."

* * *


" No, no, your highness no, you are putting it on wrong." Thembher pushed the large hat over on the right side of Amenhotep's head. Agitated, Amenhotep pushed it back.

" It isn't comfortable that way." He told the general.

" Young King, you do not want the hat lopsided." He chuckled, pull- ing it over to the right again. " It is a ceremonial treasure and must be worn right."

" But tall hat are so...annoying. There ought to be a law." Amen stated, crossing his arms across his chest. " I'm the Pharoah, I thought my word was law."

" It is just a tradition sire, please keep with it." Thembher asked him, turning the mirror so the new king could see what he had become.

Amenhotep himself was amazed. His servants had done an excellent job. The clothes he wore were very fancy and covered most of his body. Gold and malachite fell around his neck in a fancy pendant, obtained by the city's finest jeweler. The hat that he wore, albeit very uncomfort- able, was pretty impressive. It was very tall, almost two feet tall, with a coronation scene on the front, and lined with garnet all the way around.

" What do I do when I get out there?" He asked, hopping down off the chair. " Do I have to make a speech?"

" Of course your majesty." Thembher told him, leading the young king down the hallway. Many servants and diplomats bowed as they passed.

" First you must stand at the top of the stairs in front of the palace.

Then the coronator will speak. Then you swear your allegiance to Egypt and then make a speech."

" Alright, that doesn't sound too difficult." He told the general, heading for the direction of the main entrance.

* * *
He had never seen a crowd that big in his entire life. Even during the games, which were held every year. It was possible that everyone in all of Egypt was attending the coronation.

" Are you nervous?" Amenhotep turned around, and there standing in front of him, was Jerh. He was dressed up as well, wearing a long cape and gold amulet. He bowed low before the soon-to-be ruler of Egypt.

" Jerh! I am glad you are here!" He ran over to him. " I am not feeling very good right now."

" You will do fine." He said, putting a confident hand on the Amen's shoulder. " I always said you would make a good king."

" I just hope I am as good a king as father was." He said in doubt. " I still miss him."

" You will miss him for a good long time. But you will be as good a king as Amenphet was." Jerh smiled at him and nodded. Amenhotep nodded and smiled back.

" Your highness." A nobleman pushed back the linen drapes in front of him. " Sire, it is time to go."

" Alright." Jerh waved good-bye and vanished beyond the corner of the palace. With a deep breath, he pushed past the curtain and walked out into the sunlight.

* * *


As the coronator talked, Amenhotep could not think about anything else but all the stress he had been under lately. The fitting, the orders and the responsibilities, already. He wasn't even king yet.

He looked out at the people before him. The army was the first thing he saw. They were all lined up in neat row at the base of the palace. Behind them, noblemen from all over Egypt were watching the coronation, and further still, the entire city of Memphis watched him intently.

Even when he was answering the coronator's questions, his mind was still wandering around the subject of being king. Having the entire safety of a country at his command still troubled him a bit, but was more confid- ent than before.

" People of Egypt, I give you your new king, Pharoah Amenhotep!" The coronator shouted to the crowd. Amen stood up, and was met with the loud- est applause, it took willpower not to plug his ears.

" We will now listen to the King's first speech!" Even more cheers and applause pertruded from the crowd.

With uncertanty, Amenhotep walked towards the front of the pedestal. The coronator bowed low as he passed. When he got to the edge, everyone before him also bowed.

" Um... Hello everyone, and welcome to this, uh...coronation." He stuttered, glancing towards Thembher for help. He simply pushed his hands forewards and shrugged his shoulders. Amen cleared his throat. " I am, honored that I am now the new king of Egypt. Um... although I have not prepared a proper speech, I would like to, uh... give you some words my father gave me before he left for Gizeh. He said that to have respect, you must have honesty, and never let anyone tell you what to do. With these words of wisdom, I hope to become as prosperous and admired as he once was. I will not fail you, and will go on as Pharoah as long as time will allow. Thank you."

He then left the pedestal, and walked behind the curtain. Amenhotep leaned against a stone wall of the palace and sighed loudly. The roars and applause of the people below him gave some closure, and he felt proud then. As his father had wished, he was now king.

" Brilliant your highness! An excellent first speech!" Thembher walked towards him, and bowed as he reached him.

" I hope they do not all have so much pressure." He joked, pulling off his large hat and rubbing his forhead.

" They will get easier as you get use to being a ruler King Amenhotep." Thembher assured him, leading him into the palace. " And remember, you will not be alone in all of your decisions. You will have advisors, viziers, diplomats..."

" Is that what Kohemphet was?" Amenhotep asked, the two of them marching into the main hall. Servants bowed to them and administrators payed their respects to their new king.

" Kohemphet was your father's personal advisor and scribe." He answered, leading Amen up to his throne. " He was involved in all your father's affairs and was responsible for all the book keeping in the royal palace."

Amenhotep sat sturdily on his throne. Everyone in the room bowed again, and the young king couldn't help but smile. Everytime he did some- thing different, they would all pay tribute to him.

" So, I need a replacement for him. I have already asked Lord Scarab if he wished to be my advisor, but he turned down the invitation."

" You should have ordered him to be vizier if you wanted it so your Highness." A man at the front of the room told him.

" If his foolish pride wants to get in the way of him being in a higher office, then I will not stop him. I would hate to think he was being my advisor only because I told him so."

" Very well put."

" So, what would you wish us do master?" Another asked.

Amenhotep got a thoughtful expression on his face. " Well, I wish you to go out and from every city, find people who are worthy and educated enough to be the King's advisor. Then, I want their names, historys and talents brought back to me. Then I will choose one of them to be my personal advisor and scribe."

" We will do your bidding immediately." Thembher told him, and followed by the others, filed out of the room, leaving Amenhotep and a few servants behind.

* * *


The new king was sitting out on the back veranda, overlooking the menagerie. The clothes he wore now were less bulky than that he wore to the ceremony, and a smaller, less uncomfortable crown sat snugly on his head.

So far that day, sitting there was the only time he had had a chance to be by himself. What with papers needing signing and decisions being made.

Amenhotep yawned loudly, knowing that no one else was around. He glanced out over the desert, large pyramids looming out across them, one of them, his father's. The tomb was sealed only a few days ago, but even then it seemed like an eternity.

Once again, he looked over the kingdom. His kingdom. Now that it really was his kingdom. He had never thought before that he would be a good king if the chance ever came up. Now, thinking about it, and of everything he would from now on endure, made his head hurt.

But like a light in the dark, he knew everything would turn out alright. The years that would follow would be hard, but he would continue with the status that he promised to the people. And with thoughts like that, he had more faith in himself than he had ever had his entire life.

End Part 1


Comments? Flames? Suggestions? Bored?
Write me at: m12@glinx.com


DISCLAIMER: The layout for this page was inspired by Stargate SG-1: Unauthorized It was not intended to copy or resemble that site. Any similarities are purely accidental and coincidental especially after the discovery that I cannot draw or edit for beans. Mummies Alive! is the property and trademark of Dic Inc. and the producers of that show. The images on these pages were created by me for informational and display purposes without their knowledge or permission. It is hoped that I will not have to remove them. This site is here to provide information and to promote a great new cartoon, and is not intended to infringe on any copyrights.

Copyright © 1998 Anubis
All Rights Reserved

This page hosted by Get your own Free Home Page

Hosting by WebRing.