King Tutankhamen

• Lilli Coogans-sorby, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2012

The great Egyptologist, Howard Carter looks over the edge of the great ship he is sailing, into the dirty, choppy waters of the Nile River. He pictures Egyptians building pyramids, tombs and temples further inland, hundreds of years ago. It has always puzzled him how such time-worn civilisations like ancient Egypt, were able to sculpt some of the most common traditions the modern world knows. He looks up and his eyes ponder on the shore of the river. Carter wonders what might have been happening at the very same moment, thousands of years ago.

In ancient Egypt, many years before Howard Carter was thinking those thoughts, a young servant girl named Moskalia leapt off the birch bark she was travelling on and sprinted as fast as she could down the edge of the Nile River, taking no notice as the wheat she had just been collecting flew out of her hands. ‘It mustn’t be true’, she told herself sternly, 'It mustn’t be true.’ She bolted up to the front door of her master’s house and banged on the large door using the solid gold knocker. The door was opened to reveal a grim looking male servant. Moskalia ducked under her fellow servant’s arm and looked directly into his eyes. ‘Are the rumours true? Tell me they are lies!’ Moskalia pleaded.
The male servant dropped his head ‘I’m afraid not, Moskalia.’
Tears sprung into Moskalia’s crystal green eyes. She turned her head and sobbed. The death of her dear master Tutankhamen was too much to bear.

Howard Carter and his crew walked for hours. Sweat dripped down Carter’s forehead as he battled the roaring winds of the dusty, abandoned Egyptian desert. He was forced onto his hands and knees as the crew struggled up hills so steep, they were almost vertical. As they reached the top of an especially high prominence, they could see clearly that there wasn’t long before they reached the Valley of the Kings. After many tumbles and falls, Carter and his crew were finally able to reach their destination.

As Moskalia stands in the valley of the kings, she looks around at all the beautifully hand-crafted tombs surrounding her and then at her beloved Master’s tomb. Her King’s tomb was built with haste, as his death was unexpected. Her Master deserved much more than that rickety shack. Her hair blew in front of her face as she looked at the symbol engraved on the tomb. It was shaped like an eye. It was put there so that the God's might watch his body, but most importantly so that no disturbance would ever come to his tomb.

The Valley of the Kings had an eerie and mysterious feeling at this time of night. Carter stooped at every ruin looking for the symbol he believed would guard the King’s tomb. After what seemed like hours of wondering aimlessly through the Valley of Kings, Carter and his crew finally found what they thought to be the tomb of Tutankhamen. A moment of happiness and relief was soon replaced by dread and hopelessness at the thought of hours of digging the tomb out.

As King Tutankhamen’s solid gold coffin was lowered into the disgraceful tomb, Moskalia turned and fled, wanting nothing more than to leave this sad, depressing place.