“Great. At least, he’s got that Hebrew nose, the same as his brother.”
Hearing this, Barak turned towards him, incredulous.
“You know Iram?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
“Your brother has found himself a nice spot. He’s the princess’s favorite,” said Senedjet. “She actually asked me to look for you. A surprise for her little pet, probably.”
Barak look back at the Queen of the Rats, but she dismissed him with a wave of her hand. “He paid for you. He gets to decide where you go.”
“But… no!” shouted Barak. “I’m a rat! I belong to no one!”
She made him come closer, grabbed the front of his tunic, and brought their faces together.
“You can’t risk my alliance with the chief of the police,” she said through her teeth. “You go with him, and you live rich. You stay, and I feed you to the younger ones. You hear me?”
Barak nodded, terrified. Senedjet thanked her, bowed once more, and left with the kid.
“Listen,” he said, after walking a while silently through the dark streets, “your job is simple. You entertain the princess, you bow to her whims, and you spend the rest of your days in luxury.”
“What do I need to do in exchange?” asked Barak.
“Straight to the point. That’s what I like in kids like you. Sometimes, I’ll ask you for a favor or two. You just have to obey and not ask any questions.”
“What kind of favor? Stealing? Killing?”
“Probably. If you disobey, I can make you disappear without a trace.”
Barak agreed to the terms, and both walked in silence until they reached the palace. They entered by a side door and reached the wing with the bathing pools. The teenager stared with rounded eyes at all the opulence. Senedjet led them to a small room where a dozen servants were finishing their workday, placing back oils, perfumes, and linen towels on the shelves.
“Master Senedjet?” asked the matron. “Do you wish to take a bath?”
“It’s not for me, but for him,” he said, pushing Barak to the front.
The servants looked with evident disdain. The matron was skeptical.
“That one is not from the palace, for sure,” she said. “Our baths are to be used by members of the nobility exclusively, you know this.”
“It’s an emergency. He’s got an audience with Princess Soromeh in the morning.”
Upon hearing this, the servants started to talk excitedly among themselves.
“Calm down, girls,” said the matron. “I know that it’s a huge deal and to directly serve the royal family is a great honor, but this is a challenge. Look at his hair. Shaving it would take half of the night.”
“Keep it long,” said Senedjet. “And find a tunic that hides that horrible mark on his nape. It’s improper.”
“If you say so. Girls, warm up the stones of the smallest room and get the oils. You, fetch me clothes. Make sure they’re the right size. Don’t worry, Master Senedjet. We’ll have him ready for the reunion with the little princess.”
Barak, despite his suspicion towards Senedjet, was scared to see him leave.
* * *
The Temple of Amon was unusually busy at this time of night. Soldiers of the sacred guard walked back and forth, carrying bodies that they threw in the river without reverence. Their captain was supervising, unhappily.
“Twenty-four bodies,” he said out loud. “All from a group of mercenaries that has been hunted for at least two seasons. They sacrifice half of their numbers to divert our attention, while the other half enters the temple, but they don’t steal a single thing. Most of them are found dead. And you still don’t want to tell me what soldiers of the royal guard were doing nearby.”
Harouk and Silas remained silent.
“You didn’t set a foot in the temple,” said the captain. “But someone did. I saw a felucca leave with one of your men and two women.”
He threw a glance at the name written on their soldiers’ insignia. The symbols spelling the name of the youngest princess shone under the torchlight.
“You did your job. We did ours,” said Harouk.
“I’m not an idiot. I can see what happened,” said the captain. “The princess slipped through your fingers, and you chased her down and did whatever you had to do to keep her alive.”
“It would be inconvenient if this situation became a conflict between the sacred guard and the royal guard,” said Silas.
“You think I don’t know this? If it were only me, I’d let it go, but impure people have stepped inside the temple. It’s an unforgivable crime.”
“Members of the royal family can enter any temple,” corrected Harouk. “You executed all the others.”
“What about the person who killed all the ones we found inside?”
“Who?” asked Harouk, innocently. “I thought they killed each other.”
The captain threw him an annoyed look before chasing them off and going back to his men. Harouk and Silas walked back to the shore, quickly hidden in the darkness of palm trees and papyrus plants.
“What should we do?” asked Harouk.
“What do you mean? We can’t make decisions. We can only follow Naími’s orders.”
“Never mind. I forgot how you could be so—”
He suddenly stopped and turned to a dense group of trees. They grabbed their swords. A shadow came from the shadows and grinned with sharp fangs.
“Your toys don’t scare me,” said Anubis. “Good evening, Uriel.”
“I told you to call me Harouk,” he said, sheathing his weapon. “What are you doing here? You should be more prudent!”
“Calm down, Feathers, I’m supposed to be here. I came to fetch human souls.”
“What does this mean, Harouk?” asked Silas.
“Listen, Silas, it’s a long story and not really the best time—”
There was a sudden glow of white light, and Silas was back in angelic form, wearing his armor and helmet, his wings brushing the foliage above. He pointed his sword at Harouk.
“He called you Uriel,” he said in a cold voice. “Uriel, the guardian of the door to paradise. Twenty years you hid your real name from us, but you gave it to a Netcheroo? Prove that you’re not a traitor to our cause.”
“Oh hey! Let’s all calm down!” said Anubis, standing in front of the blade. “I’m the traitor. I’m the one who told of the Netcheroo plan to your boss, Michael. Uriel just happened to be there.”
“Why would I believe a Netcheroo’s word?”
“Believe mine,” said Harouk, pushing Anubis aside. “I didn’t tell you everything, I admit, but I didn’t lie. I wouldn’t endanger our mission or Naími.”
Silas looked at him in the eye for a long moment. Then, as if a cloud passed in front of the moon, he lost his shine and went back to his human form. He was about to say something, but quick footsteps interrupted him. The captain of the sacred guard was back, holding a torch.
“What are you two doing, arguing in the dark?” he asked, passing in front of Anubis. “I thought you were already gone.”
“Our colleague left with the boat.”
“Oh, some of my men are crossing at the change of hour. You can go with them. I’m glad I caught you. We found three of them still alive, if you want to interrogate them.”
Silas glared at both angel and Netcheroo, then followed the captain.
“Are all angels such a joy to be around?” asked Anubis, watching them leave. “I thought your moodiness was an exception.”
“Stop trying to distract me. It won’t work. What happened with the cat?”
Anubis sighed. “...Bastet. Just saying her name exhausts me. Listen, Uriel, what you must know is that our story goes back thousands of years. She’s a mistake I try to stop making, again and again. So many tears and so many sandstorms were caused by our fights.”
“Summarize.”
“She came to talk to me. We haven’t spoken a word to each other for decades, and now she comes to see
me when I’m at my weakest, suffering the deaths of those temple idiots.”
“What did she tell you?”
“Few things. She’s not going to turn me in. I think.”
“Be cautious.”
“Of course. I’m not a newborn puppy. I’ll make sure to keep her far from—”
Suddenly, he let out a horrifying scream and gurgled as if he was vomiting his entrails. He placed both hands on his neck and fell to his knees.
“Anubis! What’s happening?” shouted Harouk.
The Netcheroo could only whimper. Harouk searched around and saw Silas, who was running back to them.
“Silas!” he yelled. “What have you done?”
Silas frowned. “Nothing. I came back because the captives had no information. They’re being executed.”
“Executed?” repeated Harouk, keeping Anubis from falling on his side.
“Beheaded,” said Silas.
Anubis screamed again and was shaken by a violent spasm. He fell back and hit his head. Only the angels could hear him yelling.
“He told me,” whispered Harouk. “He feels all deaths, as if each one was his.”
He jumped back on his feet and ran up the hill. He reached the back of the temple, which was under construction. Under the scaffolding, several guards fought with the last mercenary, trying to lay his head on a polished stone. Other soldiers were carrying two decapitated bodies to the river.
Silas, in full armored angelic glory, wings spread, landed in front of Harouk.
“You cannot intervene! It’s against our Law!”
Harouk tried to step around him, but Silas caught him by the arm and threw him to the ground. Silas placed a knee in the middle of his back and smacked a hand in front of his mouth.
“I won’t let you damn yourself, Harouk!”
The sword went down, and Anubis screamed. Harouk stopped fighting and hid his face in the humid soil. Silas stood up slowly and regained his human form.
“Uriel,” he started after a while.
“I didn’t give you the right to call me by that name.”
“…Harouk, then. Someday, you’ll understand that we have the same goal, you and I.”
Harouk got back on his feet and wiped his face without answering him. He went to go back to the copse of trees, but the captain’s voice stopped him.
“Oi, royal guards, the felucca is leaving with or without you!”
Harouk followed Silas reluctantly. They walked on the shore next to the temple outer wall, then through the sphinx alley and the great plaza, until they reached a dock where a dozen feluccas were waiting.
Silas sat with the handful of soldiers who had embarked with them, leaving Harouk alone at the back.
He spotted Anubis on the shore, a black silhouette against the pale temple wall. He was surrounded by silver souls.
* * *
The morning found Soromeh in Naími’s chambers. The oracle was trying to get comfortable in a lounging chair, near the window. She was dressed in a large and translucent dress that showed bandages at her thigh and abdomen. The bruises on her face were covered in ointment. One of her eyes was patched up.
Soromeh pulled up a chair. “You shouldn’t be out of bed. You were bleeding out, yesterday.”
“That’s what I keep telling her!” shouted Dewei, coming out of the bedroom, carrying a mountain of pillows. “You are mortal, Naími. If your body fails, the mission is over!”
The oracle sighed. “Be more discreet, please. The princess is right there.”
“Says the one who told her everything,” he grumbled, placing pillows under her back. “Was it necessary? You could have invented anything else!”
“I think she’s more useful to us knowing the truth. She would have found holes in our lies and made us regret it.”
“I would have made your lives miserable,” said the princess, stealing a date from the fruit bowl.
Dewei glared at them both and left the room with an empty pitcher.
“So serene, so composed,” said Soromeh with sarcasm.
“Yesterday’s events were hard for him,” explained Naími. “He, along with Harouk and Silas, are tasked with keeping me safe. I guess your caretakers feel the same when you run away, your majesty.”
“But I don’t have people wanting to kill me!”
“Did you already forget how we met?”
Soromeh ignored her. “Your belly was slit open! Your blood was at the bottom of the boat! Your face is covered in bruises!”
“Thank you for reminding me of my wounds.” Naími winced. “Don’t worry. I was seen by the physician. I also have an expansive collection of herbs that can help my healing.”
“I hope they work because their smell makes me nauseous,” said Soromeh, stealing another date. “Did you find who is responsible for all this mess?”
“Sadly, no. The survivors knew nothing. I should have kept their leader alive to question him. On the other side, he’s the one who hurt me here,” she said, pointing her abdomen. “I don’t really regret piercing his eye with his own sword.”
Soromeh coughed and spewed back a bite, then burst out laughing. Naími waited patiently for her to calm down.
“Aren’t you bothered by such violence?” asked the oracle.
The princess sighed and frowned. “Maybe I would have been, before. But they killed Misha and my convoy. They used me as bait and almost drowned me. The only thing I regret is not knowing who paid them for all this.”
“We’ll find them, your highness. I will give you your revenge.”
Soromeh nodded, gravely.
The door opened, and Dewei entered, carrying a heavy water jug. He was followed by Onamu, who was nervously fidgeting with the braids of his black wig.
“Onamu!” Soromeh said with delight. “You left my quarters!”
“Yes, princess, it’s—Iram went to get the food and—there’s someone who wants to see you.”
“Who is it, my brother? Damon? Please don’t tell me it’s Kamilah?”
“No,” he muttered. “It’s Master, huh, Master Senedjet. He says that—he says that he found what you told him to find, and he also said that I should go fetch you right away.”
“Oh!” said Soromeh, jumping to her feet. “I have to go!”
They both left the room in a hurry, escorted by Silas, who was already waiting in the corridor. Two nervous-looking people were waiting next to the door to her chambers.
“Your majesty,” bowed Senedjet. “I bring you good news.”
She ignored him to stare at the teenager standing next to him. He looked about her age, dressed and groomed like an Egyptian. She still could recognize the shape of his nose, the color of his eyes. His cheekbones were more pronounced than Iram’s.
“That’s him,” she said. “You’re Barak, son of Levannah, aren’t you?”
He nodded.
“Don’t be rude and prostrate yourself,” growled Senedjet. “That’s the daughter of the king!”
“Don’t,” she interrupted. “It’s no use. We’ll go immediately inside. I thank you, Senedjet. You will be rewarded. Come, my friend. I have someone I want you to meet.”
She opened the doors and went in, followed by Onamu. Barak threw a nervous glance at Senedjet, then at the guards, before following her. He jumped at the sound of the doors closing behind him.
The living area was larger and more luxurious than any room he had seen in his life. He squinted at the morning light. Everything was too bright, too clean.
A servant entered the room, holding a platter of food. When he saw Barak, he froze. The platter fell to the floor with a loud metallic noise, the morning meal scattered at their feet.
Iram opened his mouth but could only make a strangled sound. He took a step forward, and then another step, and then threw himself at Barak, arms open wide.
Barak hugged him back, hiding his face in his brother’s shoulder, trying to forget the price he paid for this moment.
The king of Egypt sai
d to the Hebrew midwives, whose names were Shiphrah and Puah, “When you are helping the Hebrew women during childbirth on the delivery stool, if you see that the baby is a boy, kill him; but if it is a girl, let her live.” The midwives, however, feared God and did not do what the king of Egypt had told them to do; they let the boys live. Then the king of Egypt summoned the midwives and asked them, “Why have you done this? Why have you let the boys live?”
The Celestial Conspiracies Page 11
