The Celestial Conspiracies

by Talhi Briones

  “Stay in the arena, Anubis.”

  The Netcheroo in the middle of the first level stood. He looked majestic, dark skin dressed in gold cloth, crowned with a solar disk.

  “Ra,” greeted Anubis. “May I know why I’m being treated like a criminal?”

  “You are accused of treason against the Netcheroo clan. This council was assembled to judge you and decide your fate.”

  Anubis stayed frozen under the wave of whispering that filled the room.

  Thoth, the ibis-headed god, lifted his head from the papyrus he was reading and snapped his beak to bring back the silence.

  “This reunion will be registered as the trial of Anubis,” he recited. “His verdict will be deliberated by the members of the first circle, and his sentence will be decided by Maat’s justice.”

  A woman, old and withered, dragged herself to the arena and kneeled near the burning dish. She wore a simple grey dress and kept her eyes closed at all times. Her headband bore the Feather of Truth.

  “Can we go faster?” yelled Set from his metal throne. “I am impatient to see that traitor get his due!”

  “Keep silent,” snapped Horus. “You won’t twist the council’s opinion in your favor this time!”

  “Why should I keep silent if I have the truth with me? Anubis handed our secrets to the angels, allowed our enemies to hinder our plans, and endangered the future of the Netcheroo clan. What is there to debate?”

  Thoth did not raise his head from the scroll. “The proceedings state that the accused is allowed to defend himself.”

  “The proceedings would give a voice to this traitor when he only deserves to suffer!”

  Osiris, his face green and his body mummified, raised a hand. “Calm yourself, brother! You get carried away in your dreams of violence, but you forget that he’s one of us! He has a place in the council, as you do!”

  Set pointed at Anubis’s chair.

  “If he really was one of us, his seat wouldn’t be empty! How many meetings did he miss? How long has he avoided us? We all know he despises us! Are we surprised by his dishonesty?”

  Anubis had to bite his lip to stay silent. He was not allowed to speak at the moment.

  “We need to keep the archives clear and state the facts,” said Thoth. “Who wants to list the accusations?”

  There was silence. Set laughed.

  “Look at yourself, cowards, the lot of you. You were happy to bring the traitor to court, but no one dares to step forward. I see how it is. Anubis is too powerful. Who dares speak against the friend of Osiris, Isis, and Horus? You make a tightly knit group, don’t you? But what about the other members of this council, those who prefer the truth to corrupt friendships?”

  He turned his disdainful snout towards Anubis and smiled viciously.

  “You thought your allegiances would protect you, Anubis. But that time is over. If our clan needs someone who won’t hesitate to rise against such immorality, I will be this man. I declare high and loud that you are a traitor, Anubis, and I’ll do everything to see you condemned, dirty jackal!”

  Thoth grew impatient. “You speak much, Set, but I have yet to hear anything pertinent.”

  “We had our suspicions for a while, but never had any proof. Until now.” Set turned to the seats on the opposite side. “Bastet, rise! Tell us what you know!”

  All eyes went to the cat goddess.

  “Under orders of this council, I followed Anubis’s steps,” she recited, her voice empty. “He went to the Egyptian palace to meet with angels, the same angels sent to counter our plans. He told them our secrets and went to Hell in their name, catching the attention of the king of demons. Anubis’s suspicious associations were also witnessed by the messenger of Olympus.”

  She stopped and sat without meeting Anubis’s eye. He clenched his jaw.

  Hathor, the goddess with ivory horns, stood.

  “May the council take note of Bastet’s loyalty, who traveled to Hell to get the traitor back and stopped the king of demons from learning more about our plans. She also got enough information from the Olympian messenger to allow us to communicate with Zeus in time and prevent a confrontation.”

  “Her actions are noted,” answered Thoth. “We can move on to the next part. It is now time for the accused to speak. Anubis?”

  Anubis took a moment to gather his thoughts. He ignored his growing nausea and the shaking of his hands. When he raised his head, it wasn’t to speak to the first level, but to the hundreds of shapes sitting in the higher ones.

  “I begged,” he told them. “On my knees, I asked them to change their minds. They ignored me, turned a blind eye to my suffering. They didn’t leave me a choice.”

  “You dare throw the blame on us?” yelled Set.

  “Set, you’re not allowed to speak right now,” called Thoth.

  Anubis went on. “Brothers, do you know what makes our clan so powerful? Do you know how we managed to stretch our empire for thousands of years without ever faltering? We cheated. I cheated.”

  “Anubis…” warned Ra.

  “You were there, Ra! Set too, along with Thoth, Hathor—all the faces you see in the first row were at this secret reunion. We hungered for power, but our country was full of strangers that didn’t pray to us. The faith of our followers was not enough to quench our ambition.”

  He pointed at the council members.

  “You, who sit right here, you all agreed! You participated! You sacrificed me!”

  “Lies!” yelled Set. “You volunteered!”

  “I didn’t know the pain that would come with it! You ignored my supplications! You accuse me of treachery, but you left me no other choice!”

  A Netcheroo from the higher levels cleared his throat. “What happened?”

  Anubis grew somber. “I linked my existence to all the souls in Egypt. Every single one, without exception, from birth to death. Instead of waiting for the humans to grow and give us their allegiance and risk losing them to other religions, we directly drew the faith that makes us so powerful from them.”

  A whisper grew in the higher levels. Thoth snapped his beak to bring back calm.

  “Every child born in this kingdom gives us their strength,” said Anubis. “No matter if they pray to us or to other gods—it makes no difference. They are children of Egypt. They belong to us.”

  “If they want to live on our lands, they have to pay the price,” snapped Set.

  The Netcheroos behind Set agreed loudly, and others loudly opposed. Thoth tried to bring back order.

  “We shall debate this subject another day,” he said when he could be heard. “Anubis, don’t stray from the matter at hand.”

  “My actions are justified by this! By linking myself to human lives, I was condemned to suffer every single death! Every human life that ends before its time, every murder, every suicide, it all echoes in me. You are immortals. You know nothing of agony. But I had to endure all that pain to bring you glory!”

  He turned to Set, furious. “How does the council recognize my sacrifice? By planning to kill an entire generation! These souls are linked to me! But the ones I call brothers and sisters didn’t want to hear my supplications. I had no other choice but to ask the enemy for help.”

  “Your actions will provoke the fall of our clan!” yelled Set.

  “Fine! I am done suffering in your name!”

  “Silence!” called Ra, standing up. “We heard what you had to say, Anubis. Members of the council, it is time to cast our vote. Rise if you judge Anubis guilty of treason.”

  Set jumped to his feet, followed by Hathor and, slowly, by most of the first level. Only Horus, Osiris, and Isis remained sitting. They all avoided his eyes.

  “Anubis, your peers judged you guilty,” said Ra. “Your sentence will be decided by Maat, voice of eternal wisdom.”

  Maat, who had knelt, unmoving, during the trial, approached the burning dish, her eyes still closed. The silence became heavy. The other torches stopped burning, leaving only the h
igh flames in the middle of the arena for light.

  “Anubis,” she said, “you gave away our secrets to the enemy. You endangered the safety of the Netcheroo clan and, by association, the human lives of Egypt. Your sentence should be exile to limbo. But your sacrifice helped build this same clan. You already paid part of your debt. You will be exiled among the mortals, the link that ties you to our power cut forever. Never again will you suffer the death of a human. Never again will you suffer for the glory of Egypt. This is your condemnation and salvation.”

  The room exploded in a major outcry, Set the loudest of them all. Ra made them stop with a single order.

  “So said Maat, justice among us,” he declared. “All rise.”

  Anubis watched them in fear. As Set turned his back to him, Anubis felt a needle pierce his heart. The link that tied them was cut. Ra did the same, then Thoth, and soon, all the other Netcheroos were turning, one after the other, until Anubis fell to his knees in pain. He felt heavy and tired. Darkness slowly invaded his vision.

  He found Bastet’s face in the crowd, saw her contrite expression. She turned her head away and cut the last link that tied Anubis to the Netcheroo clan.

  * * *

  Barak came back to the princess’s quarters, his gait apathetic and slow. His expression empty, he pushed open the door to the servants’ bedroom and found himself facing Iram’s fury.

  “Where were you? Her majesty told you to stay at Onamu’s bedside, and I found him alone, twisting in pain!”

  “I went to find a healer,” lied Barak.

  “Oh, forgive me, then. Is anyone coming?”

  “No. They’re all at the banquet or preparing to leave with the troops.”

  “All of them? Even Master Kamuzu?”

  “He said he didn’t heal slaves,” said Barak, studiously not looking at the bed.

  “I’m going to find her majesty,” said Iram. “Stay with Onamu.”

  He left. Barak let himself fall on his own bed. He turned away when Onamu started crying in pain.

  “It’s a pity,” muttered Barak. “You would have made a great desert rat, kid.”

  * * *

  Anubis suddenly regained consciousness. He felt the heavy heat of the sun, the pain in his limbs, and a desperate thirst.

  A gourd was placed in his hands. He drank half of it before he noticed he was back in human form. He was lying on the burning dirt, in a valley surrounded by rocky hills pierced by the doors to several tombs. He was in the Valley of the Kings, the Pharaoh’s necropolis.

  There was laughter, and a hand grabbed back the gourd. Set was standing next to him, always smelling like the blood of a battlefield.

  “You should ration your water, Anubis. You only get one gourd. Oh, how sad. You already drank half of it!”

  “What…” Anubis tried to speak, but the words got stuck in his throat.

  “You know, the general opinion was to throw you out of the oasis and let you find your way back to civilization. But I thought it was rather cruel. The desert is harsh on people with no powers. I thought you’d appreciate a familiar place.”

  He grabbed him by the neck of his tunic and dragged him to a door. Anubis recognized the more recent tomb, the one belonging to the late King Ramses. The stone door was ajar.

  “Don’t make that face. You’re not going to die!” said Set happily. “You can’t die, idiot. We are immortals, and kicking you out won’t change it. But I thought that a mere mortal life was not enough for a Netcheroo like you. You should be treated like a king!”

  He shoved him inside and threw him the gourd. Anubis tried to get up, to no avail.

  “You don’t want to die anymore—that’s fair. Maybe after a couple of years suffering thirst and hunger, you’ll beg our forgiveness.”

  He pushed the stone back in its place. Anubis found himself in complete darkness.

  * * *

  Soromeh had been pulled from the feast by a group of overzealous servants. For a second time that day, she was brought to the baths and thrown in perfumed water while two of them scrubbed every part of her skin and two others washed her hair and removed all the oils.

  Then she was dried and perfumed, and her hair and makeup were done once more. They made her put on a dress of translucent linen. The matron talked to her while the others placed flowers in her hair. Soromeh, who, until that moment, only had a vague understanding of her wifely duties, felt nauseous learning some new details.

  She was escorted through the palace hallways. A crowd of nosy people had assembled to watch her walk by, the women of the courts taking the best spot in front of the vizier’s chambers. Soromeh felt exposed. She swallowed back her anger and self-consciousness and walked in, head held high.

  Damon’s quarters were empty, but an army of servants had transformed them. There was the heady smell of incense and fresh flowers everywhere. The lamps were dimmed, making everything look unfamiliar. The main table had been freed of its usual mountains of papyrus scrolls and was covered in a feast of meats, breads, fruit, and wine.

  Soromeh was artistically placed on the bed, over the new and perfumed sheets. A servant tried to open the sides of her dress, but Soromeh viciously opposed it. Another placed flower petals all around the princess.

  The matron gave her more practical information and left her alone. As soon as the door closed behind them all, Soromeh jumped from the bed, adjusted her hair, and removed the lotus petals. She went to the table and crammed a handful of dates in her mouth. She wasn’t hungry, but she took great pleasure in chewing with her mouth open and spitting back the pits.

  She let herself fall back on the bed and wanted to wait for Damon, but her new husband was still absent. Eventually, she fell into a dreamless sleep.

  She did not hear the commotion outside the vizier’s quarters caused by a panicked Hebrew slave, who was forbidden to enter by the royal soldiers.

  Chapter 13

  Dawn

  The first light found the king and his vizier on the docks, supervising the troops’ departure. A continuous flow of war captains and quartermasters came to deliver their reports. A servant approached with a basket of bread and fruit. Damon turned him down, stifling a yawn.

  “You should build your strengths. The day will be long,” warned the king.

  “Endless, you mean. Since I last left my bed, I got married, survived a feast, and supervised our troops leaving for war. I will have sailed to the great sea before nightfall. I’m going to fall asleep on my feet, you’ll see.”

  “We’ll tie you to the main mast so you don’t accidentally go overboard. Eat something.”

  “Yes, your highness.”

  Sethy spoke with the captain of his fleet. When he turned back, he found Damon chewing a piece of bread, staring back at the palace, lost in thought.

  “I forgot to go see Soromeh,” he admitted. “I hope she didn’t wait too long.”

  “She probably snored all night. If you go say goodbye, give her my love. Maybe she’ll speak to me again when we come back.”

  At that moment, the captain of the royal ship called for them. It was time to embark. Damon hesitated, looking at the palace, but came back to Sethy.

  “If I go inside, I’ll get stopped by all the honey flies who want to know about my wedding night. I won’t be able to come back out before noon, at least. Might as well get in now and let the other ships take our place on the dock. Soromeh will understand.”

  * * *

  Hermes landed on Naími’s tiny balcony and dipped his head between the archway curtains. The quarters seemed empty. He called and got no answer. A noise caught his attention in the servant’s bedroom. He entered discreetly and pushed the door open with a finger, to be greeted by furious hissing. Aïden was curled on the floor, her face hidden in her wings, near the bed that Bastet had used while at the palace.

  “Oh, there you are,” said Hermes. “I thought you were halfway to the Netcheroo Oasis.”

  “I don’t know where that is!” she spat. “
I didn’t know any other place. I had to hide here, where the angels live!”

  “Have you seen them?”

  “They left before sunrise. The human woman too.”

  Hermes hesitated in the doorway and came to a decision. He went to the window and closed the heavy curtain, darkening the room. He removed his hat and stretched on Bastet’s bed, hands behind his head.