The king watched from the throne. An interminable line of guests waited at the bottom of the steps so they could climb, one by one, to give him their respects. Then they went to bow respectfully at the royals seated at the main table. Damon and Kamilah acted gracefully, but Soromeh, stuck between them, avoided the pleasantries by eating everything in range.
“Have some dignity,” muttered Kamilah through her smile. “You look like a savage lion, shredding that piece of meat.”
“It’s zebra. That’s how they get eaten in the wild.”
“All eyes are on you. Act accordingly.”
“Kamilah, I’m starving! They lugged me from one point to another since dawn, I haven’t had the time to eat the tiniest fig!”
“Do I need to remind you the importance—”
“Let her play wildcat,” cut in Damon, amused. “If her mouth is busy eating, she won’t be able to create a diplomatic incident.”
Kamilah glared at him and went back to her meal without answering. Soromeh tried to calm the situation and started taking smaller bites. Iram, wearing ceremonial clothing, leaned next to her with a platter of desserts.
“Your majesty, I took the liberty of getting your favorites and getting them approved by the taster,” he said, his tone neutral.
“Honey dates! Fig pie! And—am I dreaming?”
“Almond paste bread,” he said. “I had to run to get a plate before the Nile Delta delegation finished them all. I know how much you love them.”
She blushed. “Iram, you spoil me.”
Damon loudly cleared his throat and brought her back to reality. Soromeh, sheepish, turned to her new husband but found Barak between them both, switching the empty water jug for a new one.
“I’m glad to have you both with me today,” she told her companions. “But poor Onamu must be bored to death in my quarters.”
“To be honest…” started Iram.
“Happy wedding!” shouted Onamu, almost completely hidden behind an enormous fan.
“Onamu!” she said, delighted. “You left my rooms! I’m so proud of you! Come, come closer.”
“Soromeh, this is not the moment to talk to your companions,” said Kamilah.
“Don’t you understand? Onamu is terrified of crowds, but he braved them to wish me a happy wedding day!”
“Barak said there would be music and dancing,” muttered the kid.
Barak shrugged awkwardly. “He kept asking questions.”
“You can stay for a while, but after that, you go back and rest,” said Soromeh. “You’re still a tad red. Here, drink.”
To Kamilah’s consternation, she gave him water from her own cup.
“Stay with me, my boy. Look like you’re fanning me, and let’s judge the crimes against fashion of Egyptian high society.”
“Soromeh!” said Kamilah.
“Am I not allowed to laugh at the hairdo of the Cretan ambassador? She’s wearing more feathers than the menagerie parrots! And that Sumerian merchant, there, who looks like he got dressed in the sails from his ship—”
“It’s improper to keep a servant at your side during an official feast. No matter how much affection you bear him.”
Soromeh narrowed her eyes and lowered her voice. “I am an adult and married, like everyone keeps telling me. One of the first decisions I’ll make will be to adopt this kid and give him my name. The high society should get used to seeing him at my table because that’s where he’ll stay.”
Kamilah sat up straight, her face a wall.
“I refuse to have this discussion in public. We shall speak of this later.”
Soromeh turned to Damon once more, but he was speaking with a Nubian prince. Before she could start on a new plate, she was trapped by a rich landowner from the south who abruptly wished her happiness and, in the same breath, started talking about the Nile flood’s effects on his crops and the taxes announced for the following season.
“I would appreciate if you spoke with the king about this, your highness. For your nuptials, I offer you ten bags of the best barley from my lands.”
“Ten bags of—thanks? Put them with the rest.” She pointed at the pile of presents at the center of the room.
“I already sent them to your granaries, your majesty.”
“Oh, that’s even better. My husband and I are grateful, and so is the crown of Egypt,” she recited.
The landowner left with many bows.
Damon leaned over. “What did you get, this time?” he asked under his breath.
“Ten bags of barley. You?”
“A war chariot.”
A gasp. “That’s so unfair! You get the weapons, the horses, and chariots while I have to be happy with combs, pretty mirrors, and bags of barley!”
“My dear bride, don’t resent me,” he laughed. “Remember that everything that’s mine is also yours, now!”
“I’ll give you half my perfumes if you leave me the axe with the bone handle, over there. Do you think those are human bones?”
At that moment, silence settled on the room like a wave. The king had stood up, alone and majestic under the falcon’s statue.
“People of Egypt, friends from foreign lands,” he said, “I want to thank you for being here on this happy day. Your offerings and praises honor our family.”
A thunder of applause startled the throne room doves, making them fly everywhere. The king waited for the silence to come back before resuming his speech.
“My friends, Egypt is a glorious kingdom, and tomorrow, the royal troops will set sail to bring back even greater glory. For months, our warriors have been laying siege to Amurru, a city the Hittites stole from us. At dawn, we will embark to lend a hand to our brothers. I will see the Hittite kingdom bend under Egyptian rule!”
That time, the cheers were so loud that Soromeh had to cover Onamu’s ears. She watched her brother make his official goodbyes and leave the throne room with great pomp. She was surprised to see Damon stand up too.
“You’re leaving?” she squeaked.
“The fleet leaves tomorrow at dawn. I have so much to do. I can’t stay here.”
“You’re leaving me alone in these crocodile-infested waters?”
“There’s no need to be dramatic. You’re great when you put in some effort. You just need to repeat the same pleasantries and ask Kamilah for help.”
“She’s in a foul mood since I told her—wait, before you leave!” She waved him back.
“Listen, I really need to go,” he said. “Sethy needs help to organize everything. We’ll speak tonight, in my quarters. Goodbye, my sweet bride.”
He kissed her brow and left. Soromeh crossed her arms, sulking.
“He should know it’s dangerous to leave me alone in a room full of dignitaries and sharp weapons,” she muttered to herself.
With Damon gone and Kamilah refusing to act as a shield, she was soon caught in boring conversations.
She was trying to pay attention to a woman talking about a rejuvenating plant when Onamu swayed. He caught himself on Soromeh’s chair. The great fan fell to the floor, the noise reverberating in the room.
Soromeh placed a hand on his forehead. “Onamu, by the gods, you’re burning. I should have sent you to get rest instead of keeping you with me. Here, Barak, help me, keep him upright.”
She stood up and pushed aside the many wine jugs to find the pitcher full of water. She filled a cup and made Onamu drink once more.
“He’s so red,” she muttered. “Careful, Barak, I’m pouring the rest.”
“What?”
She upended the pitcher over Onamu’s head.
The entire room turned at the splash. The bride and her two servants were completely wet.
“Barak, bring him back to my quarters and make sure he stays in bed,” she said.
Barak was pulling at his ceremonial tunic with the tips of his fingers, looking upset. “Do I need to come back, after that?”
“No, stay with him. You can change. Iram, stay with me, p
lease. I don’t want to be left completely alone.”
“Never, your majesty,” muttered Iram, handing her a dry cloth.
Soromeh wiped her arms and dress. She lifted her eyes and found Kamilah’s reproachful ones. Soromeh sighed and sat back, ignoring the crowd’s incredulous stares.
* * *
Barak walked briskly through the corridors, pulling Onamu behind him. When they reached the princess’s quarters, he opened their bedroom door and pushed him on the bed.
“Stay here and don’t move,” he ordered while switching tunics. “I have things to do.”
“Barak?” whispered Onamu. “My belly hurts.”
Barak left Soromeh’s quarters and went back to the throne room. He caught a servant by the arm, gave her instructions, and watched her disappear through the crowd. Some moments later, Senedjet, chief of the city police, joined him in an empty hallway.
“What are you doing here?” he snapped. “We can’t be seen together!”
“The poison!” whispered Barak furiously. “I put it in the water, avoided the taster, and placed the jug next to the vizier. I did everything you told me to, but it wasn’t the vizier who drank it—he was just drinking wine!”
“So the princess did? That’s not so bad. We can turn this to our advantage.”
“No! It’s Onamu! The little servant, the one with the spots on his face! He drank two cups!”
Senedjet caught him by the ear and twisted. Barak whined in pain and followed the pull, having to put a knee on the floor.
“Damn you, it was so easy! We won’t get another occasion like this! My boss is going to punish me because of you!”
He let go. Barak got back to his feet, grimacing. “I got some on me! Am I going to—”
“No, not you,” sneered Senedjet. “The venom has to be ingested to have any effect. Your friend, on the other hand, probably won't see the sun rise again.”
* * *
As soon as the guard changed in the throne room, Harouk escaped to the empty gardens. He found Anubis under his usual tree, near the pools. Aïden was curled nearby. Hermes was sprawled on the grass, head on Bastet’s lap, while she played with his hair.
The Olympian was talking with wide gestures. “You say that there’s no alliance between your people and the angels, but you coexist in the same palace and are even friendly to each other! See! There’s one! He looks like a mountain, but I know he’s got wings!”
“Hey, Feathers,” said Anubis, lazily.
“What was I saying!” ranted Hermes. “Greetings! Civil conversations! Might as well tell me all your evil schemes right now!”
“What is he still doing around?” asked Harouk.
“He ruins the silence and refuses to appreciate the day,” said Anubis. “He drinks our wine, pokes about our library, seduces our women. Asks too many questions.”
“I also put a great deal of effort into teaching your princess to read!” said Hermes, raising a finger. “Numbers and science! History!”
“She put an end to your lessons,” said Harouk. “Anubis, I need to speak to you.”
The jackal stretched and followed him to a secluded corner of the gardens.
“Why are you making that face?” asked Anubis. “It looks more upset than usual.”
“We leave with the troops, tomorrow morning.”
“All four of you? Naími too?”
“The king wants all his strategists with him. That means the oracle too.”
“Is it safe to leave the palace? We don’t know how long this war is going to last. The demon we’re looking for will have free range here.”
“Naími estimates there’s a greater chance that he’s among the influential members of the council, most of whom are leaving with the king. She’ll keep searching while maintaining her place at the royal court.”
“And like always, you three will follow her like a bunch of ducklings,” completed Anubis. “Well, thanks for warning me. I won’t have to spend my days worrying, like when Bastet disappeared with the Olympian.”
“Be on your guard. He seems too relaxed with you all. Do you plan on staying at the palace?”
Before Anubis could answer, a shadow passed over the sun with a screech. A great bird of prey circled them.
“I think the choice is out of my hands,” said Anubis, darkly. “That’s Horus.”
He turned to Harouk, grabbed him by the shoulders, and lowered him to his height.
“No matter what happens, don’t intervene,” he muttered. “Stay hidden. He must not know your true nature.”
“I’m not going to let—”
“Promise me, Uriel. I can still convince them of my innocence, as long as they don’t see you. Swear to me.”
“...I swear.”
Anubis hesitated, then nodded and headed back to the sycamore. Bastet was standing, her face pinched with worry. She gestured to Hermes and Aïden to remain there and joined Anubis on the grass.
The falcon landed in front of them and took a form that was almost human. He was dressed in rich clothes of copper and gold, but his head was still a falcon’s. He snapped his sharp beak in their direction.
“Horus,” greeted Anubis. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your presence?”
“The council is meeting,” he said. “I was sent to make sure both of you would attend.”
“Is our presence really necessary? They’re boring and always end in shouting.”
“It concerns you.”
Horus glanced mistrustfully at Hermes and Aïden, who were looking from afar.
“I see you befriended other Celestials.”
“An Olympian and a demon. Their clans are not our enemies, as far as I know. Should we have asked for the council’s permission, first?”
Horus sighed, losing some of his stiffness.
“Listen, Anubis, you know how the council is. Set spread mistrust, and your absence makes it worse. They just want to ask you a few questions.”
“You mean interrogate me like a criminal.”
“If you don’t show up, Set will see it as a provocation and won’t hesitate in coming to fetch you himself.”
Anubis stopped himself from glancing in Harouk’s direction.
“If this is what I need to do to stop that pig’s paranoid delusions, I’ll go. Bastet?”
“I’m going too,” she said. “Give me a moment.”
She went back to the sycamore. Hermes stepped forward, but she walked past him and stopped in front of Aïden.
She placed a hand on the demon’s cheek. “Sweetie, I need to leave once again.”
“Three more days?”
“No.”
She pressed her lips to Aïden’s brow and muttered something.
“Stop!” yelled Aïden. “I don’t want to be freed!”
“You completed your part of the deal,” said Bastet. “I free you from our pact. You belong to yourself, now.”
“No! What am I supposed to do? I can’t go back to Hell—I’m stuck here!”
Bastet looked at her sadly and went back to Horus and Anubis. All three disappeared in a golden shine.
“No!” yelled Aïden, running under full sunlight.
Harouk left the cover of the trees and joined them. He and Hermes stood back, watching the demon fall to her knees and beg Bastet to return.
* * *
Anubis stopped in front of the closed doors. The Netcheroo council chamber was on the other side. He could hear a mutter of voices, Set’s aggressive tones louder than the rest. Horus entered first.
Bastet had regained her feline head and switched her dancer getup for the magnificent clothes and jewels she wore at home. She adjusted Anubis’s gold pectoral collar, the shoulders of his tunic, the dark fur of his long ears. She hesitated, looked at him for a long moment, and changed her mind. She opened the doors and let him go first.
Silence fell.
Hundreds of eyes fell on them. The Netcheroos sat in circular levels surrounding a central arena. In the middl
e of the sand was a burning dish, its flames taller than a human.
Horus sat on the lower level, among the most powerful. Bastet went to the second level and took her place in Hathor’s entourage. When Anubis approached the steps leading to his own place, a strong voice stopped him.
The Celestial Conspiracies Page 18
