Roz Liddle 28/8/17

IDOL

Roz Liddle
Aug 28, 2017 · 3 min read

A long shadow from a great pyramid ran along the sand and touched the entrance to the sacred temple — just as the key was turned in the lock. It made a loud resonating clunk in the stillness of the afternoon.

The door of the great temple moaned as it opened.

Into the cool sanctuary stepped a thin, insipid individual, who shuffled down the length of the room — he paused.

“Great and glorious one, I supplicate myself before you. Hear my words,” the twisted face of Adomset, the high priest, looked upwards at the golden painted statue before him.

The face of his god, Huset, remained impassive.

“I speak as your most devoted servant,” continued the high priest, “May you smote all your enemies.” He waved his arms — rather unnecessarily — before crossing them in front of his chest and bowing his head to the floor.

His god looked disinterested.

Today was the day — he was sure. He had divined all the ancient texts and consulted the sages. The planets were correct — the stars were correct. Adomset had weighed everything in his mind — he must be true — he was the one. His eyes turned once more to his god.

Huset continued to be unmoved.

Adomset rose and wandered towards a large pile of papyri lying on an ornate table. He unrolled the papers and ran his thumb along one in particular. Yes, it was all here.

He wandered along the table’s side, his fingers casually touching items as he moved. Adomset picked up a multi-faceted die and rolled it around his palms — before dropping it onto the table. Would it speak to him?

His god remained aloof.

The die tumbled passed the Senet game it belonged to — rolled past the papers — finally, dropping suddenly onto the floor. On it rolled towards the temple guards with their tall bows and long, reedy arrows.

Continuing to roll, the die moved along — now — in a most peculiar manner, although made from a precious stone — it was as if it was being drawn towards a magnetic source.

It halted — abruptly — at one young man’s feet.

Adomset looked shaken. The guard stooped as if to collect the die.

A booming voice echoed throughout the temple: “Do not dare to touch.” The high priest looked agitated. He picked the object up from the floor — glancing at the top most symbol — staring once more at the statue that dominated the temple.

“No — no — you promised. I have done all you requested and have asked for nothing in return.” Adomset’s voice was hoarse and trembling.

Huset stirred slightly.

The high priest was distraught — he was the one — the symbol on the die must be wrong. Once more he threw. No — once again the die stopped on the wrong image. Adomset turned his face towards his god.

He did not speak — but — Huset did not need spoken words to understand. Unconditional worship was requisite, as was obedience and unflinching devotion.

His god acted.

Huset had weighed Adomset’s heart and found him wanting. He quietly whispered to his faithful guards.

They moved in unison — soon the high priest was dead. There had been signs — true ones — but Adomset had ignored them all.

The young guard removed his helmet — all the others dropped to their knees.

Huset turned his face towards the statue and nodded his approval of the mirror image looking back. Would these souls never learn?

)

Thanks to Derrick Cameron

Roz Liddle

Written by

Writer, mother, wife, helper, giver, gardener, handicrafter — in no particular order. The time for procrastinating has passed.

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