The Song of the Bee-Eater
By M.L. Bullock
Text copyright © 2016 Monica L. Bullock
All Rights Reserved
I dedicate this book to sisters everywhere.
To make peace with your sister is to make peace with your own soul.
Sung by his Harpist for Osiris, Chief of the Crew in the place of Truth
Inherkhawy, who says:
He is Happy this good prince:
Death is a kindly fate.
A Generation passes, Another stays,
Since the time of the ancestors.
The gods who were before rest in their tombs,
Blessed nobles too are buried in their tombs.
(Yet) those who built tombs,
Their places are gone,
What has become of them?
I have heard the words of Imhotep and Hordjedef,
Whose sayings are recited in whole.
What of their places?
Their walls have crumbled,
Their places are gone,
As though they had never been!
None comes from there,
To tell of their needs,
To calm our hearts,
Until we go where they have gone!
Hence rejoice in your heart!
Forgetfulness profits you,
Follow your heart as long as you live!
Put myrrh on your head,
Dress in fine linen,
Anoint yourself with oils fit for a god,
Heap up your joys,
Let your heart not sink!
Follow your heart and your happiness,
Do your things on earth as your heart commands!
When there comes to you that day of mourning,
the Weary-hearted (Osiris) hears not their mourning,
Wailing saves no man from the pit!
Make holiday, Do not weary of it!
Lo, none is allowed to take his goods with him,
Lo, none who departs comes back again!
The Harper’s Song
(From the tomb walls of the priest Neferhotep)
1350 BC
Chapter One
Destiny’s Daughter—Pah
I walked through the Oasis of Timia last night. A heavy purple sky draped over the encampment. No moon rose, but clear, bright stars pierced the veil above, allowing the glory of the Otherworld to shower down upon the camp below. The light of the heavens filtered through the tiny pinpricks left by the warring constellations of Sah and Sepdet. It bothered me that I could no longer recall the names I once called those constellations; those Meshwesh names now escaped me—and I once had known all their names and could track their movements better than even the Old One, Farrah.
The soft slapping of the palm fronds grew louder on the evening desert breeze, and the chirping of night birds hungry for tasty moths broke the stillness of the early evening. The fluttering gray insects were always attracted to the amber lights of the camp lanterns, and there were many here along the main pathway that led to the tents of the king and the Council.
I smelled pleasant spices, cinnamon and cardamom, lingering evidence of a celebratory meal. Happy memories stirred within me, memories from a more innocent time. As always with the Meshwesh, these feasts would last through much of the night, yet I dared not intrude. For although Timia had been home to me, I felt I was an intruder.
But why?
The memory of something seething and dark, complicated and soul-shattering escaped me even though I reached for it, mentally clawed at it like one of the moths seeking the light that would burn its life away.
Forget, sister. Lest it kill you.
“Nefret?” I whispered into the night air. Her voice was in my ears, but I could not discern her tall, slender frame anywhere. I heard nothing else from her, and I poised hesitantly on the empty camp pathway, hoping no one would find me and cast me out. Now that I had returned home, I never wanted to leave again. Could it be possible that somehow I had returned? Perhaps so! I had never recovered the memory of my journey from Zerzura to Thebes. Couldn’t I just as well have traveled home the same way?
The gods will have their way, won’t they? They do as they please with us, I thought wryly.
I could see that I wore no royal robes this evening. Only a simple linen tunic of pale yellow fabric. The soft grass beneath my bare feet was softer than any carpet I had ever trod upon. Tiny curls prickled on the back of my neck, rising in acknowledgement of the mystical realm that worked its magic here. Yes, indeed! As a worker of magic myself, I recognized the stickiness of the air, the shimmering movement of the invisible. Instinctively I touched the air around me, as I always did when I looked into the fire and the water. Then I noticed my hands. They were young again—the scars, and I had many, had been washed away by the magic and starlight, and I felt lighter than I had in many years.
Oh, how I have long staggered under the weight of my priestess’ robes and the ornate jewels of Isis! Have I truly been set free?
Freedom overwhelmed me, and like a child I spun about in a joyful dance and laughed aloud. The sound was music to my own ears. How long had it been since I laughed or felt peace like this?
The whistling songs of my people, the Meshwesh, floated toward me and tugged at my heartstrings. Yes, I had been correct! A celebration was underway, and I could hear the excitement rising in their voices. From the pitch and tune, I knew what this was—a birth waiting, a holy night for us. I heard the clapping of hands as the expectant mother settled into her tent. How happy they were! Yes, a child would come! A child for the tribe—a treasure.
Treasure? What have I forgotten?
The wind rose again, and the bright blue pennants above my father’s tent beckoned to me. Yes, that was where I should go. He would welcome me; he would make them understand that I was a true Meshwesh daughter. I was also a treasure, and I belonged to them. He would put his robes on me and grant me whatever I wished. Father! I come to you!
“Hold now, daughter of Isis. What are you doing here?”
Blinking into the dim light I whispered, “Who is there?” A figure hovered at the corner of the tent. It was a woman. She was not tall as Farrah yet carried herself like one with authority. At my question she stepped onto the lighted path, and I caught my breath.
It was Mina! Mina, who was not dead but young again, her raven’s wing hair hanging freely down her back. And she spoke! Instinctively I made the sign of respect, but she did not return the gesture. This troubled me.
“What of your vow, Mina?” I felt compelled to ask. While yet a girl, the acolyte had taken a vow of silence. I had heard her speak only a handful of times in my life, and then only in ritual service to the tribe. By her speaking so plainly, I knew that deep magic indeed worked here in this place this night. She said nothing for a long moment; her hair fluttered like the pennants of Father’s tent, covering her dark eyes from my view. I felt the power of those eyes as they searched my soul. I did not fight her or argue my case. I could not remember my offenses, so why should she? I only wanted to belong to my people again. To be their treasure once more.
“I ask you again, why have you come, daughter of Isis?”
“I am a daughter of the Red Lands!” I protested at the repeated accusation. “You know me, Mina. It is I—Pah hap Semkah!”
My answer did not move her, and finally the wind lifted her hair away from her tanned face. I could see her liquid brown eyes, and I relaxed under their sympathetic consideration. Her eyes did not condemn me; I saw only sadness there. “Look above you, then, and tell me what you see,” she commanded, raising her right hand. Ga
zing upward I immediately recognized the constellation—it was Osiris with his bow. It was a dark omen indeed.
“I see Osiris, Mina. He faces the west now.” Hoping to impress her I added, “And look! A star falls like an arrow from his bow!”
“He is known as the Dancing Man to the Meshwesh. Or have you forgotten all our ways, Pah hap Semkah?”
“I—I know what is important. I know I should be here.” Desperation rose in my voice.
Mina inched toward me, her eyes like fire, her voice like steel. “Remember, Pah. Remember your promise to her.”
I stepped away from her. “No! I don’t want to remember.” I raised my hand upward as if she would strike me. “I want to stay here with my father and my people!”
“You want what you cannot have, but that has always been your way. You will keep your promise to her.” Though her words stung my heart, I knew she spoke the truth.
I begrudgingly nodded and pleaded, “Let me pass, Mina. Let me go to my father just once more.” Like a wraith, she vanished into smoke and I was alone again. The distance to Father’s tent was only a few feet, but it might as well have been a mile. I could not will my feet to make that journey. I desperately hoped Mina was wrong. But I knew she wasn’t.
I have left something undone. Something important.
A shadow passed beside me, and I spun to catch sight of who came near me. There was no one there. Only whispers in the dark.
“Mina?” I whispered back to the empty air. The shadow whirred by me again, and this time it pinched me. I gasped and felt increasingly alarmed. This was not Mina but some other being that did not want me here.
With a quick, wistful glance toward Father’s tent, I began to run toward the pool. Yes. I would find peace there. Maybe a place to hide from this shadow and whatever promise I had made that might prevent me from coming home! A gray moth flapped in front of me, leading me down the now sandy path, and I took it as a sign. Quietly and quickly I closed the distance between myself and the water. I could smell the water now. At last I would taste the waters of Timia one more time!
As I cleared the last of the tents I glanced around me but saw no one lingering. There were no more tents, no place for shadows to hide. All the Meshwesh were at the celebration on the other side of the expansive camp.
All except Alexio, who stood waiting, his back against the tallest palm tree. My mind whispered, “This must be a dream.” My heart replied, “No! This is real. Let it be real!”
His arms were crossed lazily in front of him, and his dark hair hung around his shoulders. His expressive almond-shaped eyes watched me approach, and that thrilled my soul. He watched me as a man would watch a woman he desired. And that was all I had ever wanted. To have his love, to own his heart and to share my own with him.
“Alexio? Can it be you? What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you, little dove.”
“I have not heard you call me that in such a long time. You came for me? Truly?” I dared not hope that his words were true. Alexio often toyed with my heart, and I always let him. It was exquisite torture.
Again the memory of a great wrong threatened to encroach upon this happy moment, and again I willed it away. The mental struggle made me feel weak, and I had the growing sense that I would not be able to prevent its reappearance for long. “How long have you waited, Alexio?” I wanted to hear his warm, melodious voice a little longer. In the distance a lone musician plucked skillfully at the strings of his rebab, and the notes plucked at my heart. Alexio was only a few feet away now. I could see the angled curve of his high cheekbones and smell the cedar oil on his skin. His dark eyes were almost the deepest purple, so brown were they. He did not mock me as he used to do. He did not tease with his eyes. This was the culmination of all my life’s desire, to be loved by Alexio and to show him love. I had cast everything aside—yes, even my own sister, Nefret—in an attempt to capture his heart. I loved him with a ferocity few could understand.
“I want to stay here, Alexio. Promise me I can stay with you. Now and forever.” I reached for him. My hand shook as it approached his face. He gazed down at me, his eyes half-closed, a sad smile on his face. Just one touch. To know I was real and he was real and we were alive and home.
“Pah!” Mina’s voice called from behind me, the warning tone freezing me in mid-motion. My hand was so close to Alexio’s face that I could feel the warmth of his skin. “Would you leave with a promise broken? You cannot return here if you do.”
I did not want to turn around and see her there. I wanted to forget the horrible things, the promise, the shadow. Alexio’s sorrowful eyes were fixed upon mine and mine upon his.
“Alexio?”
“Do what you must, little dove. I will be here.” His look was serious, and he cast his gaze at Mina behind me. Still I would not look away.
“Tell me just once,” I whispered to him as I lowered my hand.
“Pah! Come away!” Mina’s rough voice warned me. I dared not ignore her for much longer.
Only a second more. This is life. This is my everything.
He bent his head down as if to kiss me, but as our lips came together the shadow that dogged my steps earlier zipped between us and he vanished.
“No! Alexio!” I screamed and clung to the trunk of the tree, sobbing in despair.
Mina’s hand rested on my shoulder now. I bent under the weight of it; although her touch was light, it brought the heaviness of the memories I had hoped to avoid. “Daughter of Isis, Daughter of the Red Lands, Daughter of Destiny. Do what you must do—keep your promise. Now is the time. A life for a life.”
Her words launched me through the grass of the oasis; I passed unseen by my clan as they waited upon the arrival of another treasure. Helplessly I shot through the Red Lands nearly as quickly as the star that had fallen from Osiris’ bow. With another breath I flew through the pylons of the outer gate and the massive green-gold doors of the Green Temple of Isis. I flew up and up until once again I was in my room. My acolyte Shepshet did not so much as stir or blink an eyelash, but I bolted upright in my bed in time to see the supernatural wind that had carried me there extinguish all the lights in my room.
That had been no dream. I had been in the Otherworld! Like Mina, who died many years ago, Alexio was dead too. I could not join them because I still had life in my body. But it was a doomed life and would soon end.
The growing perception that there was another presence here with us rose within me. “I know you are here. Come out and show yourself,” I said bravely, but all my courage rose from the bitterness that threatened once again to overwhelm me.
“High One? Do you call me? What has happened to the light?”
“Silent, Shepshet. The dead are here. Close your eyes and do not open them until I tell you, lest they take you with them when they leave.”
“Yes, lady,” she whimpered, burying her face in her covers. I could hear the rustling of cloth, and I examined the darkness, waiting for her to appear. Cold crept into my bones, but I did not move a muscle.
“You have what you want. I have given him up, Paimu. Again! I have given him up. Take my life if you must, but do it now! Do not torment me forever!”
Then she stepped out of the shadows of the open window near my balcony. Paimu, the girl I’d murdered fifteen seasons ago. In the moonlight of this world, I could see her clearly. Thankfully she did not have bloodless skin, black eyes and bloodstained clothing, as she often had when she appeared to me over the years. It was as if I were looking at a true human girl. The vision broke my heart.
“Paimu! Is it time now? Do you demand my life this night? I am ready to go. Ready to return to Timia.”
She refused to answer but walked to the balcony, I noticed that she wore the white sandals my sister had given her before her death. Surely that meant something. She gazed toward the west, toward the sprawling desert beyond Pharaoh’s massive city Akhetetan, or Amarna as some had begun to call it. To my eyes it was a golden prison. Not
hing more.
I remained in the doorway for fear that she would push me over the side of the balcony. From this great height at the top of the Green Temple of Isis, there would be no doubt I would die instantly in such a fall. In fact, Nakmaa, the old priestess before me, had left this realm in such a manner. There had been talk of murder, but no one could prove it.
Paimu’s fixed gaze compelled me to overcome my fear. I stepped out behind her, and in that instant a big blue ball of flame passed overhead. Like the star that fell in my dream—or was it a vision?—this star also fell from Osiris’ bow. “What now?”
Paimu pointed west, where the star fell. West to Zerzura.
“Zerzura! I must warn the queen!”
Paimu turned slowly, and now her back was against the railing. She was so close that, if she had been alive, I could have pushed her over.
No! Do not think such evil thoughts, Pah! She is but a child, and you have killed her once already!
My face flushed and I asked her, “Why have you come, child? I know I owe you a life. Do you want me to cut my wrists? Am I to jump from here?” Paimu stared at me and gave me no answer. “What is it?” I screamed at her. Shepshet muffled a scream from her pallet next to my bed.
A loud boom reverberated through the temple, and another fallen star illuminated the city below. I wasn’t the only one to have seen it. I could hear the people below scream in confusion and fear.
Gliding toward me quickly, Paimu stood a few inches from my face. I could see luminous tears in her eyes, as if she lived!
“What? What is it, Paimu?”
“Nefff—rettt…” she whispered fearfully and then vanished into wisps of smoke. Soon her presence was gone and the room began to warm. Awareness and understanding came over me like a great wave. Oh yes, it was time.
“Shepshet! Get up! We must prepare to see Pharaoh! He will send for us soon!”
“What? How do you know, lady?” She pulled the cloth off her head and ran to me on the balcony. “Who is Paimu?”
“Please! No questions, for we haven’t much time.”
The Song of the Bee-Eater (The Desert Queen Book 4) Page 1
