B-4 - Erulisse - In the Steps of Pharaoh

[engarian.livejournal.com]

B2MeM Challenge: B-4 – Maglor in History 1 – Construction of the Pyramids, Sons of Fëanor – Maedhros Alone Stood Aside
Format: Short Story
Genre: Drama
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Characters: Maglor
Pairings: None
Word Count: 1248

Summary: Maglor, now an overseer at the Tura Quarry, watches the boats getting loaded with the latest load of limestone blocks. The water pulls his memories back to another shore and white ships.





In the Steps of Pharaoh



I walk along the quay next to the river watching as the limestone blocks are being loaded into the cedar and papyrus ships. Each of the ships is able to hold one of the large stone blocks, although they sink quite low in the water and are unwieldy to row and steer because of the great weight. Sails are used sparingly but are necessary since the quarry is across the Nile and slightly upstream from the landing site. Days featuring soft winds from the highlands are ideal, on those days the boatmen smile. But they have performed this act hundreds of times before and are highly skilled, no matter the weather.

The dressed blocks will be placed in the pyramid which is currently under construction near the western shore of the river, at Giza, just north of Memphis. It has been a long process of construction, but it is nearing its end.

I started work as a quarry laborer more than fifteen years ago, but I’ve been promoted several times and am now an Overseer. I am responsible for a section of the quarry, making sure that my team of laborers meets our daily quota of limestone block production. I also supervise a team of polishers who specialize in the smooth finished capstones that are so highly prized. These must be made to exacting standards in both size and surface finish. I report directly to a sub-Vizier who reports to Pharaoh’s Ear who reports to Pharaoh himself.

We quarry two types of limestone blocks here in Tura quarry, the rough, square blocks for the interior walls, and the highly finished capstone blocks; so highly polished that the sun blinks from her reflected brilliance. The interior walls and galleries also feature smoothly fit stones from this quarry, but they were cut to their final shapes by trained teams at the construction site, thus assuring each stone was an exact fit.

Although most of the stone used in the pyramid is limestone, there are also selectively used granite slabs, massive, heavy, and resilient. These became the seven stress-relieving capstones above the main chamber and the three large slabs in the antechamber. The granite was sailed downriver from a quarry near Aswan, a long way from the Delta region.

I go across the Nile to Giza every now and again to view the pyramid and examine where our next load of stone will be placed. The architecture of the pyramid is a marvel of engineering, featuring a high entrance moving into a split passageway a short way inside. The upper passageway eventually leads into a long high-vaulted gallery, leading up to a small antechamber with three upright granite slabs, and finally to the main chamber featuring five granite stress-relieving capstones on top of it with two more angled above the stack as if creating a roof. This design will protect the interior chamber from earthquakes which sometimes strike the area.

The pyramid and everything about it is monumental. I have enjoyed working on this project, but I have already been in Egypt for too long. It is time to move on.

Looking at the men loading the boats and a group of younger boys standing to the side watching them, I suddenly see another landing and another body of water, white ships and dark waters. I shiver under the hot sun, a chill suddenly striking my heart.

Despite the Ages between now and then, I remember all too well the words of my father. Maedhros had begged him to fulfill his promise and send the ships west for Uncle Fingolfin's people to use. More than two-thirds of the Noldorin people who had followed us from Tirion were still on the western shore. Instead of listening to my brother's pleas, Father had pushed him aside and thrown the first torch into the nearest white vessel.

I was confused and hesitated, thus joining in the burning through both inactivity and numbness. My Father's personality was strong in both its force and its madness. I felt that the swan ships of the Teleri were beautiful and that such beauty should not be destroyed, but I still threw a fiery brand onto the decking of a nearby vessel. Such was the power of my Father's will. When I looked back towards my family I saw that they all stood together except Maedhros. He stood to one side, hands clenched at his side and a look of hopeless anger on his face.

He did not come close to our father again until Fëanor was fighting for his life, besieged by the minions of Morgoth. At that time it was Maedhros' mighty blade that was instrumental in his rescue. Father died shortly thereafter from wounds he had received in this short but violent battle, and my brother became the head of the family, the third of an immortal line suddenly beset by mortality. I still remember how saddened and empty my brother's gaze was when Morgoth's forces offered parlay. I feel to this day, although I never asked him directly, that he rode into the clutches of our Enemy because the two he had loved the most were gone. Our Father had died, and Findekáno was separated from him by the angry seas and the Grinding Ice. It was fortunate for him that his lover lived up to his moniker, 'The Valiant' and dared the journey by foot, finally rejoining us in Middle Earth, on the other side of the Helcaraxë.

I shook my head harshly. I could not daydream while the stone was being loaded, being less than attentive could cost lives and ships. I pushed the land of Endor as it had existed before both sun and moon had appeared back into the far rooms of my memory.

Yes, it was time to leave. I cannot allow myself to forget that I am not of their kind and cannot age as they do. I do not want to be considered a sorcerer; although in this society it probably wouldn't cause my death it would certainly complicate my life. I am unable to teach Pharaoh how to achieve immortality such as I have, and that inability would eventually result in my execution.

I notice that the energies of the men are starting to flag. Pulling my flute from my waistband, I begin playing a serenade of thanks to Hapi for the Inundation to come. I then move smoothly into a hymn to Khnum, another of those deities who control the Nile, this one with a ram’s head. Living this close to the great river it is always wise to thank the gods for a safe voyage to the other shore, for the annual Inundation that allowed the crops to grow here in the desert, and for the blessings of not falling victim to the crocodiles or hippos that frequent the waters. The men catch my tunes and begin singing, setting a rhythm. Their energies are raised again; the power of music has once more proven true.

As I look back on what has been accomplished here I am thankful. I have enjoyed my time in Egypt, although some of their practices are strange to me. Once again, even on these far sun-kissed shores I have found the rhythms of music. Breathing a prayer of thanksgiving to the Valar into my tunes, I continue playing. The sun shines brightly above me and the waters of the Nile lap gently against the quay. For the moment, I am at peace.

Comments

[engarian.livejournal.com]

Thanks. I actually love ancient Egyptian music, at least those that I've heard interpreted using ancient instruments. It's haunting. I'm delighted you learned a bit about the Old Kingdom, it really was a fascinating time.

- Erulisse (one L)