The Ways of Eternity

by D.A. Dean

Chapter 32: The Order Must Evolve

  "Here they come!" Horus and his company were greeted with joyful shouts, men, women, and children running forward to embrace their returning family members.

  The rejoicing was short lived. Somber, the warriors, priestesses, and healers were escorted back to their tents.

  Horus slipped away to his temple and closed its door behind him. Hands to his head, he leaned back against the canes. How simple and how much easier it would be to hate. The shadow hovering in the far corner seemed to draw closer.

  Horus sniffed. There was a faint smell of flint. Strange. Tensing his muscles against their shivering, he gazed at the darkness stretching toward him, wavering like flowering vines at midnight, along the temple walls. If he stared hard enough, perhaps the eyes of the dead would fade from before him.

  Were Seht's followers now wracked with guilt and remorse at the pain they inflicted? Horus' fingers curled, his hands balling into fists. He'd seen sign of nothing but calculated cruelty.

  The temple walls seemed alive with bittersweet-scented night blooms. The screaming Horus heard during his vision and again sitting beside Mehlchehsia resounded in his ears. Jaw tight, he slid his hand around his sword's hilt.

  He'd condemn Seht's followers, murderers, along with their murderous king, releasing his warriors to wreak whatever vengeance they wished, allowing whatever means necessary to bring about their opponents' destruction.

  Surely, such monsters deserved no mercy.

  The door rattled.

  Frowning, Horus braced against it and crossed his arms. It should be he who summoned, not he who was called upon.

  "O King," Tatuuf said through the canes. "If I might speak with you. High Priestess Maeta and I—"

  "Go away." Horus waited for the sounds of Tatuuf's leaving and shook his head. Tatuuf should know better. He should know Horus needed to think, to plan how to confront the monsters roving the lands. Unless that was why Tatuuf had disturbed him. No, Tatuuf had permitted slaughters to go unanswered. He wouldn't suddenly choose to annihilate those responsible for this one.

  Annihilate.

  Horus started. Had someone spoken? It felt like night around him, and he needed day. So cold. He pushed his hair from his eyes and spun to open the door. "Chieftain."

  Tatuuf turned.

  "Never mind what I said. I need your company and counsel. Yours, Teo's, Nalia's, and Maeta's. Petraylia's, too. Bring anyone else you think should come." Horus stared at the clouds again pressing close. "I want a fire."

  Tatuuf bowed and moved off.

  Keeping his gaze to the dim light afforded by the open door, Horus took to his mat.

  First to enter, Nahtaeya signaled her commands to the priestesses clustered close behind her, hands full of fuel, platters of food, pitchers of wine.

  Three priestesses poled back the roof's fronds and knelt to build a fire while four more arranged bread and fruit in elaborate swirls upon the platters.

  Maeta glanced at Nahtaeya and entered the temple, Saien following. "This isn't custom."

  "It is today." Horus motioned to the mats one over from his right. Taking the goblet Nahtaeya offered, he motioned Tatuuf and Petraylia to the mats one over from his left. He took a deep drink of wine, closed his eyes, and leaned back. The warmth of the fire felt good over his legs.

  The smell of flint disappeared. What spices had the priestesses sprinkled over the flames? Perhaps the same ones they'd layered in the wine.

  Nalia sat beside Horus, her knee brushing his, and Teo took to his mat on the other side.

  Quiet, men and women, thirty-two in all, filed in and found seats among the open spaces.

  Horus turned his gaze to Tatuuf. "You must think I have a great deal to learn, Chieftain."

  "You wished counsel, O King."

  "So I did." Horus took another sip of wine. He returned his goblet to the proffered tray and lifted his voice, "Chieftains, Healers, Priestesses, Warriors. I'm in no mood for sycophancy. What I've seen today—" his throat seemed to close. He spread his hands over his knees and drew a breath. "Seht and his followers must be stopped. We must make our preparations.

  "I want to know the numbers and capabilities we have versus need, the supplies we have versus need. I want plans to increase both. I want to know the various styles of combat Seht's followers use and how they're best countered, as well as theories about possible evolution of methods, theirs and ours. I want to know, as you each see it, our advantages, our weaknesses. Seht's weaknesses. Mine."

  "You have none, Great King!"

  Horus searched out the speaker, a Third Order Warrior under Kairn's tutelage.

  Sarhune's shoulders crept up. He pushed them down. "It wasn't sycophancy, O King. You asked us each to say how we see it. You're my king, and you have no weakness, no fault."

  "You present me a conflict."

  The young man's eyes widened. "Not I, O King."

  "Yes, you, O Warrior. I respect your opinion, yet concerning me your judgment's obviously clouded or you've been misinformed."

  The warriors, seemingly relieved, chuckled.

  "Yes, you're each being presented an opportunity not many receive—critique a king to his face with impunity—because I plan to use your criticisms to become greater and grander." Horus held his half-smile for a moment and then let it fade.

  The warriors again straightened to attention.

  "Teo and Tatuuf, you'll facilitate the discussion among the warriors. Nalia, Maeta, among the priestesses. Petraylia, among the healers. Mesrahan and Korris, I ask you to facilitate among the council elders. As for me, there's something I must do, as well. After I've finished, you'll let me know when you're ready to proceed, in whatever order you prefer."

  Two village chieftains glanced at each other and shook their heads.

  Sharpening his gaze and allowing an edge to creep into his voice, Horus asked, "You disapprove Harsiif, Yehsuum?"

  Kairn touched his father's arm, and Harsiif, forcing a thin smile, shook his head.

  Yehsuum lifted his hands and turned to the chieftain seated on his other side.

  Sartehf met Horus' gaze. "Yours is a new way, O King. Some of us feel, well," he said, expression hard, and shrugged. "You demand your subjects speak freely. As an example of how a subject serves a king, I'll do my best to put aside my discomfort and follow your command."

  Horus pushed back his anger. Fingering a nearby pebble, he gave his head a tilt. "Say what you wish to say."

  "You again hold askew the Order of the Golden Days. I or Chieftain Harsiif should lead the discussion among the council elders, not warriors. Further, we, with Chieftain of Many Tribes Tatuuf, should choose how the people may best be grouped and call on those worthy to lead them."

  Jaw angled, Mesrahan stood. "Who are you to speak in such a manner? No chieftain."

  Horus motioned Mesrahan to hold and returned his attention to the pebble, so smooth. "Go on, Sartehf."

  Sarti leaned to Korris and whispered, "Fool if he does."

  Sartehf continued, "Chieftain of Many Tribes Tatuuf and I should meet—in secret—with High Priestess Maeta. Then Great Chieftain Tatuuf and I, and perhaps Chieftain Harsiif and Chieftain Yehsuum, should meet with you, distilling and presenting the essence of the multitude of meetings we've organized and led."

  "I understand that's how it's been done in the past," Horus replied. "However, in the present, we're pressed for time, and I've chosen another way. This doesn't mean I value your input any less."

  "You simply choose to undermine it."

  Horus held up his hand, silencing the growing murmurs of displeasure.

  Eyes narrowed, Sartehf gave his head a slight sideways bow. "But, of course, I will do as you command. You, Son of Isis and Osiris, creators and maintainers of the ways, establishers among humans of the Order of the Golden Days, have by right of birth the authority to demand whatever change your whims might dictate."


  Tatuuf slapped his mat. "That's enough." Staring at Sartehf, he rose. "Leave. I'll speak with you later."

  Sartehf countered, "Mind your place. You, Chieftain of Many Tribes, no longer have the authority to command me. He, our great king, after altering the Order of the Golden Days, hasn't announced he's so endowed you." He angled to face Horus and leaned in. "I understand your training has been quick and scattered. That's why I try to show you the error of this path, O King. You must let the order stand. Without it, there's only chaos. Even Seht sees this."

  Fist to his mouth, Tatuuf turned away.

  Fassah wrapped his hands hard over his knees. "Seht would've killed you by now."

  "Perhaps, to maintain the order." Sartehf again turned to Horus. "If you graciously allow, we chieftains will be pleased to help you consider the ramifications of your decisions and lead you until such time as you're equipped to make the weighty choices of a king."

  With all that was at stake, with all the violence and death surrounding them, this was Sartehf's focus, his need to maintain his position? Horus' fingers twitched. "What do you know of a king's duty?"

  "What do you?" Sartehf asked coolly.

  Yehsuum, head bowed, scooted back and attempted to blend into the crowd.

  Kairn tugged Harsiif's arm. "Come on, Father. I'm not sitting near him."

  "Stay where you are, Kairn," Harsiif ordered, shaking his arm free of his son's hold. "Our Great King Horus commanded us to speak freely, and so our wise Chieftain Sartehf has. We'll wait for our king's reply."

  "Enough." Lips pursed, Maeta rose.

  Cold fury coursing through him, Horus tore his gaze from Sartehf and said, voice low, "Sit down, High Priestess." He forced his gaze to his hands. Surely there was more to Sartehf's hostility than his rigid ideas about the order. After all, this chieftain was placing himself at great risk.

  Pushing his hands together, Horus stared at the frond peeking from beneath his mat. "I'm not sure why you're trying to bait me, Sartehf. Frankly, right now, I don't care. If you'd been with us today in the village, if you'd seen for yourself the horrors of Seht's version of the order, you'd be less concerned with yours and others' standing and more concerned with our push to end this carnage."

  Horus lifted his gaze. "You will, Chieftain, shift your focus or relinquish your position to someone better able to place the welfare of the people above his own wishes.

  "One thing more. Tatuuf does, indeed, have the authority to command you, if he chooses to exercise it, as do a few others. I haven't altered the order nearly as much as you seem to think. I have altered it, though, yes, and will continue to do so. If you truly believe maintaining a strict hierarchy supersedes all else, you should be the follower of a different king."

  Expression tight, Sartehf lifted to his feet and bowed. "I've obviously displeased you. I'll go now to await those you've appointed and the discussion they'll lead. O King."

  Arms crossed, Mesrahan watched Sartehf go.

  Counting his breaths, Horus brushed back the frond. "Harsiif, do you have anything to ask me?"

  "No. O Wondrous Horus," Harsiif added quickly.

  "Then we move on. A point for you each to consider. When you bring water for a feast, you might first parade it through the village for everyone to see and appreciate. When you bring water to extinguish a fire, you take it directly. Without losing the beauty of the feast, the order must evolve to face the fire. Soon we circle an inferno. I'd like the discussions to begin now."

  The temple emptied.

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