Having grown up with the beliefs of the Egyptians, he knew that night was the time of Apep, a time for chaos and doubt. It was also why those who chose to plunder and raid opted for its cover to conduct their business. He stopped and looked up to the sky. Thousands of twinkling stars reminded him of blinking eyes, eyes which, much like the human eyes constantly seemed to watch and judge every move and decision he made.
It was one of the reasons he enjoyed being a prefect. He got to do what was right and did not have to overly concern himself with the thoughts and opinions of others. His actions were just, at least as far as seeing to the pharaoh’s matters. Taking another deep breath, he continued along the path to the jetty; its wooden structure had been reinforced and expanded several times already. In the darkness of night, it appeared to be little more than a shadow looming over the water. Its outline highlighted by the light of the moon, whose distorted reflection was dancing on the waves. The crickets clittered and the frogs croaked, although less so than during other seasons, when the water level was higher.
As he neared the jetty, the violent splashing of water nearby drew his attention. Since it was common knowledge that crocodiles used to swim close to the river banks in the evenings, opportunistically snatching at whatever appeared to be edible, the people of Syène knew to stay clear of the river after sunset, when the guards were no longer stationed on lookout.
Again, there was a violent swirl of water and the snapping of jaws, causing his heart to race. He listened for a scream, tried to determine the location but with the way sound traveled at night, he knew that the attack could be occurring in the middle of the river. He listened to the violent churning of water, hoping it would give him some information about the size of the prey the crocodiles had captured. But instead, the evening air was only filled with more violent snaps.
He stepped onto the jetty, knowing that the structure would provide him some safety if the crocodiles were near. His sandaled feet softly tread on the worn wooden surface. There were several coils of rope still on the jetty and smaller crates stacked on one side. There was a small dunking sound followed by swirls and splashes of water, then the snapping of jaws. It came from underneath, yet there was no reason for them to be that close.
He continued farther along the jetty drawing closer to the origin of the sound. The abnormality of its presence at such hour was indication enough for him that something was amiss; something was happening that needed the cover of night to keep it hidden.
After a few more steps he could just make out a figure at the end of the jetty, watched as it bent down, pulling something from a basket before flinging it into the waters below, again resulting in churning of water and snapping of jaws.
Shabaka tried to make sense of what the figure was doing. It was common for the citizens to dispose of entrails or rotten meat into the river for the crocodiles. So much, that there were designated areas to do so, as it drew the crocodiles away from the lower parts of the river bank, where the women did the washing and the children bathed. Disposing entrails was not permitted from the jetty though, since it drew the crocodiles to an area where numerous tasks needed to be taken care of during the day.
It was also not something that required the cover of the night to do so, at least not if it was only animal entrails that needed to be disposed of. He sized up the figure, estimating it to be either an older child or a young woman, and approached carefully, since he did not want to startle the person into any ill-considered action. If it was a child, he could not understand it, because the chore itself was dangerous, and he would have it out with the parents for assigning such a task to a child. But if this person was disposing of a body then he would have to take appropriate action.
As he neared, a slight breeze wafted across the river, carrying with it the sweet scent of a sweet perfume, followed by the unmistakable copper tang of blood, which indicated that whatever the woman was disposing of had not yet rotted.
He carefully approached her, not wanting to alert her of his presence. If she was disposing of a body, it was best to catch her red-handed, yet he did not want to startle her into doing something desperate to get away. He watched as she again reached into the woven basket, picking up what looked like entrails, and flung them out into the water. She seemed to be calm - as if she had done this numerous times before, yet her movements were slow, almost like in trance and he wondered if she may have had too much wine with her evening meal. She wore some strange, thick cloak, not because the evening was cold, but it helped her to disappear in the shadows. It almost seemed as if it swallowed the moonlight. The cloak itself was indication enough that she was not just some mere servant, and the thought crossed his mind that her servants may have left for the evening without disposing of the entrails, leaving the task to her to complete.
For a moment he felt like an intruder, yet there was something that seemed amiss; something that became even more apparent when she stopped and stared into the water below, intently watching the crocodiles swirling in the shallow waters, seemingly mesmerized by them.
He almost missed her step forward, and instinctively grabbed her arm. His hand wrapped around one of her wrists and he pulled her back from the edge.
She screeched and fought against his grip, “Let go!” she demanded.
But his fear for her safety took over and he pulled her into an embrace locking his arms around her, in an attempt to calm her down. She struggled, at times worrying him that she may drag him into the river.
“Let me go, I want to end this misery.”
His heart pounded when he heard her words, because in since he had become a prefect he had dealt with enough domestic situations to know that whatever pained this woman was not some trivial matter. There was little honor in killing oneself, but for many it seemed the only escape available.
He held her until she finally calmed down and started to cry and tremble. But whether it was from anger at him for stopping her, or frustration about her situation he did not know. Her body went lax, as if all of the fight had been wrought from it; yet, he continued to hold her, unsure what to do. It was not as if he could just let her go. Her distress was obvious and rooted deep enough for her to be willing to kill herself. He was also unsure about her state of mind. And there was also the fact that it was in the dead of night, and none of the regular gathering places or beer houses would be open. His options were severely limited and there was little he could do without stirring up rumors.
She was Nubian, like him, and on her left hand she wore a ring, indicating she was taken. He knew that he should escort her home, that he should turn her over to her husband and be done with it, yet his conscience implored him not to, but to try and help her, whatever her situation was. Returning her back to the place she seemed to be running from, would in all likelihood only result in her attempting to take her life again, and the next time, she might succeed.
In the dark of the night, and with the clothes she wore, he had no way of knowing whether it was the harsh hand of a resentful husband she wished to escape.
Once her crying had subsided and she seemed capable of standing on her own feet again, he moved from her, but left his hands on her shoulders. Knowing that she would not speak openly to a male, since their custom forbade it, he stared. “My name is Shabaka, I want to help you.”
“There is little you can do”, she replied, surprising him not only with her tone but also by her willingness to speak with him.
Shabaka looked around, even though it was pitch-black. They seemed to be the only two people still outside, although he knew there were always those who lurked in the shadows, those who saw things they should not and twisted them in ways that could benefit them. His gaze returned to her, although he could not really make out her features.
“We could go somewhere and you could tell me what made you attempt this”, he cautiously suggested. He did not feel any resistance, but he did not miss how her body stiffened at his words.
“Everything is closed now“
, she firmly stated, again causing him to doubt her state of mind, for she was not riddled with anxiety as most woman would be in such a situation.
“I will take you home then”, he offered, and felt her resistance at his words.
Although her voice was controlled when she spoke, “No, I do not want to return there. Death lingers in every room. It lives there; I just need some … space.”
Her words confused him. He had never heard anyone speak in such a way, yet she did not appear to be of unsound mind, thus the only conclusion he could come to was that her husband had recently died or been murdered. For a moment he considered that it could have been the man’s remains that she had thrown in the river.
He knew that if that was the case he could not allow her to return to her home. He also knew that taking her to one of the regiment offices would alert her about his suspicions.
“I will take you back to my home then, there are several servants who will ensure your safety and honor. There you can tell me what made you want to end your life.” Shabaka said shuddering at the thought of crocodiles ripping apart a human.
“I have no reason to trust you, even though I sense your intentions are honorable. And even if I did as you suggest, there is little you can do.”
Shabaka thought it was best to be honest about who he was, and began, “I am one of the pharaoh’s most trusted men”, even though he assumed that if she was guilty of some crime, she would try to escape him. “I can help; my partner is at my home. She is good at understanding such things.”
“Your wife works with you?”, the woman asked, disbelievingly. It was well know that the medjay only accepted men into its service.
Shabaka felt a heavy feeling on his heart at her words. He would have liked to lay such a claim to Neti, ‘but not yet, soon’, he mentally consoled himself before replying; “No, she works with me. We are in the service of the Egyptian pharaoh Ramesses.”
The young woman finally conceded and he gestured for her to precede him from the jetty. Once back on the path, he took the lead and checked his pace just enough to ensure she could keep up.
She hesitated when they approached his parents’ home. The light from the lamps they passed was hardly sufficient to truly recognize anyone, although approaching his childhood home would certainly give away his identity.
“You are the young prince…” she hesitantly said when they approached the palace, and added with a concerned tone in her voice. “…I did not know, I should be bowing”, she nervously added.
“That is not necessary”, he quickly dismissed, “My presence here was not planned. My partner and I are here by request of the pharaoh, not my family. Thus do not concern yourself with it; you were unaware about my identity.”
“Your partner is Nubian like us?”
Shabaka was angry at the seemingly innocent question, but restrainedly replied, “No, she is Hittite.”
“And she understands our language?”, the woman asked.
Shabaka froze for a moment, realizing that he had unwittingly spoken with the woman in their native tongue. “I do not know”, he honestly replied, never having thought about it before, but he added, “But she can witness that nothing occurred between us to threaten your honor or your loyalty towards your husband “
“I see, and those in the home are not going to talk if you bring a young woman home in the middle of the night. I have heard that they are handsomely rewarded for looking the other way.”
“That is not my way, I assure you.”
“Which is why there has never been any rumors about you”, the woman quipped, “and why every maiden has her sights set on you.”
“That can’t be”, Shabaka maintained, “I am hardly ever here.”
“This is why you have no knowledge of such things. Many believe that you are soon to return to wed.”
“That is none of your concern,” Shabaka said. “Come, I will have Neti summoned.”
“If she is to be present, I should better speak Egyptian.”
Neti nervously followed the young girl along the corridor. She had hardly fallen asleep before the servant had knocked at her door. The only words that had registered with her were Shabaka and assembly room, since those had been the only words she had spoken in Egyptian. She had hardly had enough time to put on a dress and her wig at the girl’s insistence to hurry along - not that she could understand a word she said, which was another matter that irked her. All evening she had listened to the foreign gibble gabble without knowing what was said, which left her feeling excluded and alone, especially since Shabaka had left after their meal.
Her body protested her every move and had she had any choice she would much rather have remained within the comfort of her bed, but she knew Shabaka would not have her summoned for no reason.
Within moments of stepping into the assembly room her entire body went cold. Even in the sparsely lit room she could make out the features on the young woman standing next to Shabaka. The woman was about her age and by all standards very attractive. Neti could feel her agitation boil over into anger, anger at him for disturbing her sleep in order to meet a woman who he had obviously been keen to visit on his return. Neti shot the woman a quick glance, not even lingering long enough to properly identify the fabric of her clothing, although it was obvious that her situation in live was well above the average citizen. But even before she could compile a suitable address, her senses picked up the distinct scent of blood.
Her eyes shifted to Shabaka and she immediately saw the faint traces of blood on his clothes. Her gaze shifted to the woman, and on closer inspection of her clothing, she found blood there as well.
“What happened?” Neti asked, a heavy sensation already settling around her heart, sensing that they had another high profile murder investigation to deal with.
“I found her at the jetty”, Shabaka replied remaining next to the woman.
Neti tilted her head and asked, “And the blood?” she said gesturing to the woman’s clothing.
“I was feeding innards to the crocodiles”, the young woman replied, surprising Neti with her knowledge of Egyptian.
Neti again looked at Shabaka and raised an eyebrow. Shabaka wanted to speak but was interrupted by the arrival of one of the servant girls. The girl bowed to him and said something in Nubian. Shabaka gestured to the other woman and said, “Please, they will tend to you.”
The young woman followed the servant from the room and Shabaka waited until they had left before approaching Neti.
“She intended to feed herself to the crocodiles”, he said in a hushed tone, “I suspect that she is in some sort of trouble. Her words confuse me; she said something about death living in her home.”
Neti closed her eyes and took a deep breath, raising her shoulders a little bit before exhaling. His willingness to help others and to right wrongs was part of the reasons she felt so drawn to him.
“I know you are tired from our travels, but I need you to sit with us, to act as both witness that nothing inappropriate happened and to confirm that she did not betray her husband while speaking to me.”
Neti nodded; although she was unfamiliar with their customs, she knew that in accordance to Egyptian law, being alone with another man’s wife for the evening was reason enough to call for a public stoning. Even Shabaka’s status as a prince and prefect would not protect him of such a judgment.
“Thank you. Later I will ask the servant who is tending to her now if she had any injuries.”
Again Neti nodded, before asking, “Where shall we sit?”
“They are bringing in some stools, I thought it best if we did it here, and the servants could confirm the meeting. I have also requested some tea.”
Neti watched as the woman reappeared, taking in the prepared surroundings before bowing to Shabaka.
“Rise”, Shabaka said gently, before inviting her to sit on one of the stools.
The woman moved to sit before Shabaka continued, “This is my partner, Neti.”
The woman nodded in Neti’s direction, “My name is Aya.”
Neti picked up the uncertainty in her voice and suggested in a calm and soothing voice, “Why don’t you tell us what happened?”
“I do not know if you would believe me.”
“We will not judge”, Neti said, “…but we will listen.”
5
Chapter Five
“In a few days, my life and what happens to me will no longer matter.” Aya began, her voice so dejected that it caused Neti to frown and look at Shabaka, thinking that the woman may have misunderstood the meaning of what she had said.
“You do not mean that” Neti finally responded, and Shabaka asked Aya something in their own language; then he turned to Neti, “That is what she meant.”
Neti looked at Shabaka, her eyes narrowing, but she remained silent as he invited her to continue.
“There are things that you do not understand, things you have little knowledge of”, Aya continued, “…how easily words - simple words – can change one’s world.”
Neti frowned, for a moment wondering if she was likely to understand this woman, and was about to say something when the woman continued.
“We cannot control the things that occur in the night, when the stars look down at us like the eyes of Apep, seeking those, who are vulnerable, those who are impressionable. He invades their minds and takes control of their lives only to destroy them. Death comes like the snake that is Apep; it comes and steals from us those we love.”
Neti again looked at Shabaka and noticed the confusion in his expression. Even though she was familiar with the god Apep and his sinister deeds, she did not understand the woman’s reasoning - or her reason for speaking in such a way.
“What has Apep done?” Shabaka asked. His question astounded Neti. She had never known Apep to attack the living form, even as the god of chaos, she had never directly dealt with such a matter and had no idea how they should proceed, if there was one of the gods involved.
The Forgotten Papyrus (The Mummifier's Daughter Series Book 5) Page 4
