by D.A. Dean
Chapter 26: Who Stands with Me?
Horus stood behind Tatuuf and Maeta, waiting, as Nalia had counseled, for their announcement of him to the people gathered. He'd guessed at the encampment's population based on the number of tents, but the throng of people far exceeded his estimate. How beautiful they were, these people, almost as beautiful as Nalia and Teo.
There were babies with bright red lips cradled in loosely woven pouches hanging from their mothers' shoulders, very young children with sparkling eyes, adolescents bouncing with energy, mothers, fathers, warriors, priestesses, healers, and grizzled elders. All gathered to meet him?
Horus wanted to run among them, calling greetings, touching their shoulders and hands. He wanted to join in their singing, follow their steps as they danced. Instead, he wondered at the various shades of their hair. Shining blue-black, shimmering grey and brilliant white, golden-stranded brown, red-kissed brown, black-brown like the earth by the lake on the island, burnished brown like trunks of date palms. So many shades of brown. Glinting here and there atop the heads was red, not the brittle-red of Kafar's hair, but a lovely, dark red, like garnets.
He marveled at the shades of their skin, pale tan to deep black, the textures varying from smooth and even to etched with wrinkles. There were so many sizes, tall, short, thin, stout, and so many postures, from robust and upright to frail and stooped. The people's clothes and the stones that adorned them spanned the simple to the elaborate, in every shade he knew, as many shades as the flowers in Isis' garden. Yes, they were like flowers, these humans, lovely and precious.
"Good people," Tatuuf called out and waited for the throng to quiet. "Today is a day for rejoicing. I, Tatuuf, Chieftain of Many Tribes, and Maeta, High Priestess of Isis, call you to awaken, for today we are joined by our king."
Surprised by the volume of the crowd's sudden chanting, Horus took a step back.
Tatuuf lifted his hand, and, again, the crowd fell silent. "Today, this glorious day of promise, we are joined by the Son of the Mighty and Beneficent Osiris, the Son of the Grand and Gracious Isis."
Horus crouched behind Teo and angled his palms forward, fingers twitching with the vibrations of the people's shouted repetition of Tatuuf's words of praise.
"Hear me," Tatuuf lifted his voice above the tumult, and the people edged closer. "Today, this brilliant day of dawning, we have among us...."
Teo and Nalia stepped aside, revealing Horus, his heart pounding.
Tatuuf raised one arm to the sky, the other to the young god. "King Horus, Mysterious and Majestic, Merciful and Magnanimous." Kneeling, he bowed his head.
The people hastened to theirs knees and bent forward, foreheads to the tramped grasses.
Horus' brows drew together. He wanted to see their faces.
Tatuuf rose. "O King. Those you requested will now meet with you in your temple."
On Horus' nod, Maeta, Saien just behind, led grouped into threes twenty-seven elder warriors, priestesses, and healers along the grassy path through the crowd toward the heart of the encampment. Maeta's priestesses, some strewing flowers, others swinging pots of incense, Tatuuf's warriors, and Tatuuf followed. They all seemed careful to avoid the middle of the path, covered now with palm fronds and flowers.
Nalia and Teo edged to the side of the path.
"Walk beside me," Horus requested. "I need you close."
Shoulder to shoulder, Horus, Nalia, and Teo joined the processional, their steps causing the fronds and flowers to fully release their fragrances, the fronds' tang a counter to the flowers' sweetness.
Subduing his desire for a closer look at the portions of the encampment they passed through, Horus swept his gaze through the crowd to tents, large fire pits heaped over with coals, and fire rings covered with bubbling pots and baking bread. Ah, the people were making preparations for the feast. Would there be seed bread and honey?
The processional company turned toward the temple, the change in direction causing the incense pots' spicy-sweet smoke to blow back, and Horus coughed.
Quickly, an auburn-haired priestess motioned the incense be extinguished.
Horus glanced at Teo and grinned. He wouldn't be instructed to wash out pots or gather and stack dried reed tonight, he'd wager. Still, what was it Nalia had said? A despotic king is afforded freedom by others' slavery. A true king affords others their freedom by his own enslavement.
He massaged his shoulder and directed his attention to the temple's pleasing lines. The thatching over the roof was tightly laid. He wouldn't be able to see the stars. How long would he be confined to sleeping inside?
As king, Horus could do as he pleased, yet there was the Order of the Golden Days to be maintained. He rubbed his neck. In any case, the temple's size afforded plenty of room for Teo and Nalia. Would they still sleep next to him? Silly to think of such things now, with so much to be done, so much at stake. Yet, he couldn't push away the loneliness creeping forward through his excitement, through his concerns. He turned his gaze to the stones, glimmering in the sunlight, laid in intricate swirls along the top borders of the temple's mud-brick walls.
Two guards bowed and held open the temple's single, palm-cane door.
Scores of potted candles lay throughout the frond-lined dirt interior, bringing a flickering illumination to the faces and hands of those seated waiting within. The men and women's whisperings ceased. Heads bowed, they stole glances at Horus and one another.
From beyond the closed door came the sounds of hundreds of people rushing near, and Horus started.
Tatuuf said, "The people, overjoyed by your presence, move to ring your temple, O King." He turned and waded among those assembled inside.
Overjoyed. What an agreeable thought. Realizing his shoulders had crept up, Horus lowered them.
Along the temple's far wall, three stiff-looking mats lay unoccupied between Tatuuf and Maeta.
Horus wound his way toward them, pausing as the little candle pots were lifted and repositioned, mindful of the maze of hands and feet. Relieved at having navigated successfully, he sank onto the center mat, to his left Teo and Tatuuf, to his right Nalia and Maeta.
No one spoke.
Horus scratched his temple, the sweat over it itching. "Greetings. As you know—"
The people before him struggled to find room to bow, the rustling of their clothes and the shuffling of their limbs surprisingly noisy in the otherwise unbroken quiet.
It was distracting, this solemn silence. Horus spread his hands over his knees. "I appreciate the gesture, but I'm not here to ask you to bow before me. I'm here to ask you to stand with me. Please rise."
The warriors jerked upright. With less alacrity, the priestesses lifted themselves. Slowly, as if fearing they were being tested, the healers and the elders sat.
"Now, I'd like—" Horus stopped, disconcerted by the people's renewed glances at each other. Were some here afraid of him? There were so many people, presenting, even without speaking, so much information. How could he keep track of it all? Jaw clenched, he rolled his shoulders against his growing agitation.
Wide-eyed, those nearest to him stilled.
Everything you say and do will be noted. Horus rubbed his brow. "Rot."
Nahtaeya bowed, her loosely braided black hair slipping over her shoulder. "If we have in any way displeased you, O King, tell us how to offer atonement."
The warriors and elders seemed to hold their breaths.
Atone? Blinking, Horus dropped his hand. "I'm not unhappy with anyone here, but I understand how my muttering could be interpreted in the way it was. We don't yet know each other well. Just as you'll need time to learn my signals, I hope you'll afford me time to learn yours."
Whispers of surprise circled through the temple.
Horus continued, "My reaction was a result of my, hm. It's simply I'm not used to such scrutiny. Now, please don't sit so stiffly. You're making my muscles ache."
The warriors chuckled and loosened
their postures. Straight-backed, the priestesses crossed their legs sideways. The healers laid their hands, palms up, over their thighs. Gazes locked on the young god, the elders repositioned slightly and were still.
"Thank you. As you know, I'm Horus. Some of you may know my companions, but others of you may not. To my right is Nalia, a Priestess of Isis and a healer. To my left is Teo, a Fifth Order Warrior and Son of a Priestess. They are my innermost circle. They each have full authority as my representatives." He nodded to Tatuuf and stood, ready for the introductions.
The elders and chieftains moved forward, waited for Tatuuf to announce them, and bowed before their king.
One chieftain, Sartehf, lingered.
He expected special acknowledgement? Head tilted, Horus gazed at him. He had a sharp glint, this man, like a violently broken shard of obsidian. Horus took a small step back. "Chieftain, how is it those of this camp came to be graced with your presence?"
Seeming to accept as simple fact those around him must be honored by his company, Sartehf nodded. "Being in my position, I, of course, hold a great deal of information, some of which I know will be of use to you, O King. I certainly offer myself to serve you," he added, his tone and perfunctory bow indicating his certainty his offer would be accepted. "We may discuss my new title, reflecting this service, at a future meeting. If that pleases you, of course. In answer to your question, I deduced this was the place for the important people to be. So, here I am. And now--"
Tatuuf interrupted, "Thank you, Chieftain Sartehf. I'm sure there will be time for more in depth discussions quite soon."
For a moment, Sartehf's eyes narrowed. "Of course, of course. Great King Horus. I look forward to that time." Waving his hand before him, he bowed and slipped back.
The healers moved nearer. Tatuuf introduced them and motioned forward a white-haired woman whose collar bones stood out sharply over the top of her light purple tunic. "Come, my dear," he said and took her slip of a hand in his, "come so he may know you."
Horus stared at Isis' symbol etched into the slender golden oval below the deep-purple amethyst resting in the hollow at the base of the woman's neck.
"O King, my wife, Petraylia, a Priestess of Isis and a High Healer."
Cream, pink, pale and dark blue, light and deep green, lavender and purple, like multihued, diaphanous stars, twinkled around her, held in by the golden line of energy tracing her frame. "Oh, my," Horus murmured, dazzled.
"She is one of the few Daughters," Tatuuf added quietly.
Longing to sit and be comforted by the peacefulness of her presence, Horus instead asked, "Daughters?"
"Daughters of Isis," Petraylia answered. Her voice seemed as light as her arms, though it was as clear and softly penetrating as her pale grey eyes. "The title designates membership in the Order of Healer and Mystic, O, Horus. It is bestowed on healers or those with the vision, or both, who have shown their abilities to be strong and their hearts to be loyal and pure.
"Becoming a member of this Order requires many years of training, as well as the passing of many tests. Only those who have had this training and passed these tests may seek the Initiation. Of the ones who so seek, only those deemed worthy by," Petraylia paused, lowering her gaze, "your mother, herself, may be initiated." She held her hands out before him, revealing the symbols traced in reddish-brown over her palms and fingers.
The symbols of a priestess. Horus hovered his hands beneath hers. "May I study them?"
Petraylia knelt. "It would be my honor, O King."
Tatuuf motioned the others back.
Horus cupped Petraylia's hands. On her finger pads were the symbols of sun, sky, water, earth. Down her fingers were woven Isis' and Osiris' symbols, ending in the symbol of life. Over both her palms was a symbol of fire. Was this the symbol of the Way of Flame? Leaning nearer, he asked, "Did Mother bestow these?"
"She revealed them and instructed I paint them at the first of each month in the manner you see."
Horus guided Petraylia's hands together, closing them palm to palm. Energy circled through him.
Petraylia started.
Frightened he'd harmed her, Horus dropped his hands from hers. "Petraylia?"
A moment passed before Petraylia lifted her gaze, eyes glistening. "It was you," she whispered. "You I felt through Flame manifested in the candle's flicker. You who altered the course of the stars." She swayed.
Horus lowered to his knees beside her. From all around him came hushed gasps. Ignoring them, he gently held her shoulder, steadying her. "Please, don't be afraid."
"It isn't fear I feel but wonder and awe, O Merciful King, O Majestic Horus." Petraylia hesitated, lifted Horus' hand, and kissed it.
Horus straightened, the manner of Petraylia's touch, though pleasing, emphasizing the distance between them, between king and follower. Still, it was something.
Petraylia bowed her head. "I meant no disrespect."
"I felt none," Horus answered.
Petraylia looked, searching, into his eyes. "But, instead, loneliness?"
Surprised, Horus dropped his gaze, uncomfortably aware of their audience.
"I meant no intrusion."
Scratching his temple, Horus nodded. "Mother's taught you well."
"Just as I am thankful to be one of Isis' followers, I am thankful to now count myself one of yours. Like those here, I'm honored to stand beside you in the Great Battle."
Ah, yes. The Great Battle. Horus closed his eyes.
"I am honored to be in your presence, O King."
"The honor is mine, Petraylia." Horus touched her arm and stood.
Tatuuf helped Petraylia to her feet.
"Wait. A moment more, Chieftain. Petraylia, I need to find my father's sword. As a Daughter of Isis, can you tell me where it is?"
"I don't possess that knowledge, O King. However," she whispered and smiled, "I have an idea who might."
"And will I meet this person?"
"Yes. In time. Perhaps soon. I'll note and convey to you any signs, O King." Petraylia nodded and stepped back.
Tatuuf called forward the priestesses and warriors of highest rank, introducing them. Each priestess invoked Isis' name and pledged her loyalty. Each warrior invoked Osiris' name and pledged his life.
Life. Horus' hands began to shake. Fingers spread over his lips, he returned to his mat.
The priestesses and warriors helped the oldest to sit.
"Thank you," Horus told them then pushed his hands against his knees. He glanced at Nalia, hands folded together in her lap, and shifted to imitate her. He said to those gathered, "You believe you know why I'm here."
There was a low murmuring of acknowledgement.
"You believe I'm here to face Seht. You wish to stand with me in the battles you believe are to come."
"We will stand with you," was called out and repeated throughout the temple.
A thick-set youth leapt to his feet and called out, "Tell us what you want us to do, O King, and we'll do it."
"I want you to listen and to understand what it is I ask of myself and of you," Horus replied.
Quickly, the young man sat.
Horus gave him a friendly nod. "What's your name?"
"I," hesitating, he looked at Tatuuf. "I am Rasha, O King." He lowered his gaze and held his right hand closed, his left open, palm forward, against his thighs.
Third Order. Horus gave his head a sideways bow. "Warrior, I'm glad to meet you. I want you to know, Rasha, as I want all here to know, you each have the right to make your own choice whether you will follow me. None of you are constrained to do so. Any who wish to go may."
The warriors, as if one, straightened.
Korris said, "We all stand with you, O King."
Sarti leaned forward, adding, "We're yours. You have but to command us."
A warrior, perhaps five years older than Teo, bearing many scars over his brown-black skin, said, "It's true, O K
ing. Lead us. Let us fight."
Uneasy, sensing bloodlust, Horus quietly asked Tatuuf, "Who is he?"
"His name is Kairn, O King. He is a Fourth Order Warrior and son of Harsiif."
Horus nodded to the round-bellied village chieftain and returned his attention to the son. "Kairn, everyone, I know you've lived with the anticipation of this moment. I know, as well, many of you have suffered, many of you have grieved. I was filled with sorrow when I heard what happened in Chieftain Kartuoh's village."
Kairn wiped his cheeks with his fist. "My uncle, my cousin. Tahnae's sister. Gelto's brother. The son and daughters of High Priestess Maeta. So many more. If only they'd left in time, they'd be here with you now, O King, to stand, to fight."
There was something Kairn was holding back. It would be better for him to say it. Horus repositioned slightly the candle pot before him. "Go on."
It was a moment before Kairn answered, "Yes, O King. Seht's followers have no honor," he said bitterly. "They have no heart. They're beasts who deserve the revenge we'll exact under your command."
Horus lifted his gaze from the sputtering flame. "No."
Kairn and those around him sat back, the elders forward.
"Though I don't claim to have experienced the agonies you've endured," Horus said, "I, too, have grieved. Because of Seht's actions, just as you were cast into fear I was born into fear. I've felt Seht's shadow, knowing if he found me he would kill me. Knowing he would kill those I love. He's made that desire clear to me. I know the hatred harbored within his followers, hatred he nurtures.
"I understand the longing for retribution. However, I've seen what hate brings to those who hold it. I will fight, make no mistake, but I want you to understand why.
"I fight not for glory or to exact revenge, for myself or others, but to restore order, possibility, and a hopeful future to save those I'm able and to rebuild what was lost. Wherever I may, I will hold back. Wherever I may, I will offer opportunity to any who might wish to join us. Wherever I may, I will try to reach through to those who oppose us."
Kairn's expression clouded. "Try to reach—forgive me, O King. You'll try to reach through to Seht's followers?"
"Yes." Horus laid his hands over his knees and waited for the murmurs to fall again to silence. "A counter to hate must be offered or we're fated to become what we struggle against. Defense is necessary, but even resulting from defense, death is death."
The healers leaned together, their gowns creating a soft-hued rainbow.
Horus continued, "I've thought about what might've happened if Kafar had killed Teo or Nalia, what I might've felt and done. I understand what I ask of you and myself isn't easy. I recognize I, too, may struggle. May well. Yet I have to ask. As we move forward to confront Seht's followers, let us not refuse true opportunities for reconciliation and sincere offers of reparation but foster and nurture them."
Maeta's high apprentice spoke, "O King, we will do all we may to assist."
"Thank you, Nahtaeya. I trust that extends to holding me accountable." Horus looked into the eyes of those around him. "Just as you have need of me, I have need of you. Though I alone must face and defeat Seht, I need you to fight with me to defeat his followers. Still, I want you to know— I'll stand in battle for you regardless of whether you are beside me, just as I'll stand in battle for those who oppose us in the hope their hearts may be reached and they may see past their fears.
"If you disagree with me and want to leave or are afraid and want to hide, you have the freedom to make that choice. If you choose to go, I won't rescind what I offer. Now," he said, took a breath, and rose. "Who will stand with me?"
Teo, Nalia, Maeta, and Tatuuf hurried to their feet.
Petraylia wiped her cheeks and rose. Chin lifted, Korris stood. Fassah and Saien joined him. Sarti offered Nahtaeya his hand, and together they moved shoulder to shoulder to the line.
Rasha jumped up, shouting, "I stand with you, O King."
The remaining priestesses stood, the eldest affirming, "As do we, O Majestic Horus."
Faces flushed, nostrils flaring, the warriors hastened to their feet. Their shouts filled the temple.
"I stand with you."
"And me."
"Great King, I will follow you."
The priestesses and warriors helped the oldest to stand, until none remained seated, the shouts of unity building, circling.
Sarti knelt before Horus. "You see, O King. We're yours. All of us."
Horus placed his hand on Sarti's shoulder and returned his smile. But Sarti was wrong.
Two chieftains hadn't lent their voices.
Eyes guarded, Horus studied them.
Staring angrily at Horus, Sartehf leaned to Harsiif, aloof beside the temple's far wall, and whispered.
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