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The Death of Tutankhamun

Nebkheperure Tutankhamun, Pharaoh, Lord of the Two Lands, High Priest of Every Temple, Living God Who Causes the Sun to Rise Each Morning, Bringer of Fertility Who Causes the Nile to Flood Twice Yearly, Blessed of Isis, Smiter of the Hittites, groaned pitiably. He would have thought the pain in His Head sufficient to kill Him if the pain of His Shattered Left Thighbone wasn't ten times worse.

It had seemed such exhilarating fun, leading the charge of His reserve division of 300 chariots into the left flank of the invading Hittite army. It wasn't His fault that His infantry divisions hadn't been able to keep up and support His chariots when the sheer numbers of the Hittites caused the charge to grind to a halt. The Hittite warrior had seemingly appeared at the side of His Chariot from nowhere. The man's double-headed bronze battle-axe - and why hadn't he just had the typical sickle-sword? - had smashed through the side of His Chariot before impacting on the scale-armored skirt of His Battle-shirt; but it still had sufficient force to shatter His Leg and fling Him from His Chariot.

The last thing He remembered was seeing Khai, His chariot driver, leaping upon the Hittite, the copper dagger that was his only weapon in hand. On a sidetable He could see His Khepresh, the blue war crown was missing several of the gold medallions that armored it, lost when He had crashed head first into a rock. At least He could think now that the fever, that had ravished His Body since He was carried back to Thebes, had broken. Despite His pain, Tutankhamun slipped back into unconsciousness, His fever had only broken the day before and He was still exhausted.

Khai looked down upon the sleeping form of Ankhesenamen, so beautiful and passionate, but did she really love him. He had saved her husband and half-brother from immediate death at the hands of the Hittite warrior who had harmed him so grievously. It had not only been his duty, but failing to die before his Pharaoh would have resulted in his sacrifice to the Holy Crocodiles of the Nile anyway. Not that such thoughts had driven his actions; he had unthinkingly leaped to his lord's defense. Tutankhamun might have the cleft lip and palate, strangely elongated head, bent spine and childish attitude that caused Queen Ankhesenamen to despise him so, but He was still the Living God, the embodiment of the Might of Egypt, supreme among the Nations of the World. Khai was torn, he worshiped Tutankhamun but he

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