Heart of the Lotus

by Mary R Woldering

  Wserkaf shook free of the rest of his trance. The image of the bowl vanished. Hordjedtef straightened his slumped back. The men both withdrew, as was customary, to reflect on what they had seen.

  This was just like old times, Wse thought, but so much remains unsaid between us. He looked up at his elder who also sat musing over all that had been exchanged. Fortunately, the kitchen servant brought out the old man’s favorite date candy for an after-lunch treat. That provided enough distraction that the inspector could continue thinking about all he had seen.

  I must tell all of this to Shepsesi, and warn him that I suspect Maatkare has been told to seize the throne by force as it was done in the old days. We already suspected as much, and this almost confirms it. I must find those notes to know my vision is true. Then, he thought of his vision as he accepted his plate of date candy.

  Dede, you even accused my own grandfather of doing this when everyone knew his brother died in battle. You just couldn’t believe Hetepheres would choose him over you. You told me that often enough. Is that why it was so important for you to tease me away from my own family? To get control over your brother’s household? Wserkaf munched loudly on a left over flat bread crust to distract the old man from his thoughts, then politely belched about the soup.

  “Well. Now, all is in the hands of Shepseskaf, it seems,” Wserkaf attempted to thwart the elder’s constant probing. “He’ll build his pyr-akh…” he began, but Hordjedtef interrupted.

  “Not until his father’s legacy is completed. Any delays in construction or untrueness of design shows the displeasure of Imhotep.”

  “Oh. That. It’s true. I hear he is at the construction site dawn until dusk, even conducting audiences on a platform he’s had put up there so he can know all will be complete in time for his own ascension. I’m bound to support him as his rising Great One in the two Great Houses of God,” Wserkaf attempted to find an opening to leave quickly and hasten to the palace for the rest of the day.

  “As you should, Dear One,” Hordjedtef cleared his throat. Wserkaf sensed the elder didn’t want the visit to continue; as if suddenly the weight of other thoughts and duties occurred to him. It puzzled him, but he stood, found his blue cloak and staff, and allowed the servant who had arrived to tidy the area to assist him with them.

  “I have been asked by His Majesty to secure the fealty of the varied priesthoods before he ascends.” He spoke aloud but quietly thought, not even caring that the thought was known: And you, Great One, are the reason I’ve been given this double task.

  “As you should,” was the only answer the elder gave. The lack of further words increased Wserkaf’s feeling of disquiet. He turned, about to ask a question but saw the elder waving him to the entry tube as if he was shooing a fly. He remembered the same stoniness of expression his elder had exhibited to Marai right before he planned the sojourner’s doom.

  “Another time, then, Wse,” the craggy face crinkled with a grin.

  Hiding something, Wserkaf thought, and that shadow lurking in his worship like a demon…

  Wserkaf, the anointed of Ra…

  Seek your destiny from the house

  In Per-A-At.

  A barely voiced whisper wormed its way into the Inspector’s thoughts. Wserkaf tensed, recalling the words Naibe spoke to him when they parted at Shepseskaf’s home months earlier; that he would rise at Per-A-At.

  The note Father Menkaure placed in the chair. Neither of them have found that note. I would know.

  “You know, I believe the meeting I have with His Majesty will be about these duties. I may even go down river for a few days. Perhaps on my return…” he nodded and moved into the cool, shaded tube to exit.

  “Yes. Perhaps then we can get the rest of this transition completed,” the elder called as Wserkaf exited the unguarded gate. He paused, uncertain. In the briefest of instants, he thought he heard Hordjedtef’s thoughts:

  Yes. Per-A-At. Go there, perhaps. Go, and when you do, take the Daughter of the God with you.

  He frowned, but kept walking away from his elder’s home, more unsettled than before.

  Chapter 8: The Dogs of War

  Think! Think! Prince Maatkare Raemkai paced in his tent, contemplating the surging of powerful feelings that coursed through his body.

  Is this what it is to be a god? To be Wepwawet, the god of the hunt? He could barely contain himself. The power, he thought. Awesome, and yet I feel so – detached from it. I thought it might control me, but I do feel in complete dominance of it. A test. I need a test of might; a small one. I need a feat that no mere man can do but now I would show others that I can do it.

  It burned! It needed an outlet before he exploded. For the first time in his life, the prince felt there was not enough drink, sex, or mayhem on earth to quench that burn.

  This morning he and Nefira Sekht Deka hunted like a plundering pair. He had paced impatiently and watched her scan the horizon, reflecting on the ways in which she made him feel proud. The feeling, though new, overtook him to a point. Beyond that was doubt.

  Each hunt he allowed her to join had been different than the ones before. Each time they made a kill, she leapt upon whatever they brought down, took its blood, and gave it to him.

  Not so long ago it was I who sought to bring terror into your life by showing you that little “kill and taste” ritual of mine. Today you promise to show me something even better. I should kill you, woman, lest you suddenly disappoint me after such a lie. He stopped pacing when her fingertip gesture told him to be still; to not let the men below know they were scanning for a herd below.

  Like a lion. Even the men are saying Menhit, but I was joking when I named her Nefira Sekht. Only days before with the wretched band out of Qustul I had to put down. I see how I had it wrong, he mused and turned his eyes to her as she flattened out on the top of the cliff and beckoned for him to do the same. It thrilled him. It’s magical! he wanted to demand the answer of her.

  Was it your warrior spirit all along that first hardened me when I was just a boy and weeping for my dead hound, Little Raemkai? Are you truly a goddess of war? Have I awakened your spirit by accident, or by godly design?

  He noticed his men were far in the distance, waiting for the flash of sunlight from the circlet on his head. When he tipped it and caught the light, the men below gave no indication they had seen it.

  Damn them. Who told them they were not to get so far back. Too far away now. If we go back, we disrupt the coming herd. Not all’s lost though.

  “I can feather one from here,” he whispered, pointing at the black and brown dots of wildebeest moving into their line of sight as they approached a meandering creek in the grass. “Watch me,” he got up on all fours and began to nock an arrow, but her slim fingers slipped over his, gently preventing it. He paused, distracted.

  And damn you too, woman, he thought, but flashed a faint smile. Every time you touch me now, each time you do it, I can scarcely put two thoughts together. He had wanted to ravish her right then, on the cliff top, before all the gods and the witness of his distant troops.

  “As can I…” she whispered, “but we take two, maybe two each and then the men claim the rest of the kill, or the beasts scatter and we have lost them.”

  “And?” his tone mocked, betraying that he still considered taking a woman on a hunt more of a novelty that would turn into foreplay. “Your plan?”

  “Does the lion or the wolf carry a bow?” she asked. “Bind the quivers and bows up close on our backs, then we can leap down on them and use our knives.”

  His jaw dropped. I would die or be maimed. This is nearly tall as a pyr-akh. He saw her tightening the straps and gripping the dagger she had borrowed from him. His own hand chose the hilt of the gleaming metal curve that seemed like a claw.

  It had better give me the magic of flight, he glanced down at the blade he created in the box of stones. He knew it could help him transform into a wolf or a beast and be merciless in slaughter, but could it assist him in othe
r godly things?

  “Take my hand,” she breathed out, barely audible. “Say ‘I walk the wind.’ That is what he taught me, my Ta-Te, and I know you can do it too,” her calm eyes had begun the gold-green glimmer like lion eyes.

  Him again. Ta-Te. His heka, he thought. She’s using it again. Her Ta-Te, he didn’t like being a stand-in for some hero from her past. He knew she was doing that.

  “And you will still think I am he?” his eyes pierced her upturned gaze. The blank expression she returned was mockery enough.

  “Just do it, without thinking.” She urged him to the edge, her eyes glimmering and closing.

  Today, he believed she was the daughter of Sebiumeker or some ancient and burning god. Maatkare took her hand; her whisper coursed through his own heart.

  “If you are luring me to the edge, ka’t, I will see you are the one who falls.” He tensed for an instant, resisting, but saw her gaze merely glimmer.

  “I walk the wind,” his voice mimicked hers.

  “Mean it, beloved. Believe it,” she answered, seizing his arm and beginning to pull.

  “I walk the wind.” He repeated, but halted because he thought one of the animals below paused in its grazing to look toward them.

  “Again. See it,” her whisper felt as if it circled his heart and enchanted him. A marvelous updraft swept up the cliff side.

  “I walk the wind,” the prince shut his eyes to help with his concentration, but felt her move forward into the draft and he followed, feeling instantly buoyed, then gently drifting lower.

  He opened one eye and sucked in his breath when he saw they were walking down a column of wind as if it had been a stair.

  Flying! Oh, gods, he thought, calming himself so he wouldn’t tense or break the illusion. If he did, he knew he would fall.

  “When you are near enough, leap free of me and take them as they scatter, beloved! Bite them! Drop two or three and then give chase to shoot the far ones!” Deka called, but the prince felt only wind rushing past his ears and quivering in his belly at the speed of their descent.

  Returning from his reverie, he paced in his tent.

  We did this thing! We roared like beasts and sank among them! It was glorious. We took twice as many. It was ecstasy; screaming, bleeding ecstasy!

  He heard the men talking about him. They were afraid of him now. Deka was out walking among them, fearless. Her guards trailed behind her as she toured the camp and left him to settle.

  Should be! Fear breeds respect, and not a one or even a dozen will move against us. They see me with new eyes; once mighty, now like the God before the Dogs of War! The doubt returned for a moment. The green stone pulsing in his brow whispered in Deka’s voice.

  I shall want more.

  You who uncovered my need

  Must feed me

  Or perish

  You will find a way and

  When you do,

  All will be complete.

  The prince shuddered in growing, but delighted horror at the hunger he had not thought possible.

  “It…” he stammered as the words caught in his throat. “…is something new, which has never been here before.” He took the box of stones, minus the twelve that had returned to the sojourner, and stared at the contents. They glimmered differently.

  “Een Tjoad…” he whispered, because something was in the tent with him. It wasn’t Nefira Deka. She was at the flap of the tent and the guards with her were stationed outside. Tonight, she’ll tell me she needs more. It was what the verses stated. She wants blood and killing, but the beasts we hunt are not enough. This I know because nothing can compare to the loosing of the life of a man – to know his panic and memories flash because he knows his fate.

  It was something else.

  The prince turned to face the woman entering the tent for the evening. She approached, oddly self-assured for a woman who had not shown him more than a quiet, controlled manner except when they hunted together.

  “Nefira,” he took her in his arms and studied her eyes. “I know what you want. I take the task. It will be sooner than you think.” But then, the dark ruby of her lips and the matching flash of her brow made all the thoughts go away.

  Chapter 9: The Notes

  Wserkaf hurried from Great One’s city home toward the palace. He almost turned in the other direction toward his empty home so he could wash the feeling of disgust from himself as well as the rest of the dirt from the morning escapade.

  In all my days, he broke into a trot along the dusty corridor, I never dreamed it would come to this. I loved that old man all my life! I don’t even know who he is any more. I could barely look him in the eye when we spoke.

  He looked over his shoulder several times, half expecting a spying wraith sent by the Hordjedtef to be following him. Tightening his travel cloak over his body, he tried to vanish from the sight of any people passing by. Instead, people in the pathway moved aside as he passed, seizing throat amulets and gesturing to protect themselves from the perceived evil eye.

  “It’s alright,” he apologized more than once to anyone he jostled or moved near. “It’s nothing. I’m just in really a foul mood.” Then, he signed grace and added: “blessings of the gods be on you and on your family.”

  I must be manifesting the bad energy. If I don’t calm myself, I will attract an evil spirit. It might be what he wants. Look at me, afraid of him after all my years of devotion. I should be ashamed. He’s just a man after all, even though he acts as if he is a god. Wserkaf paused, turned toward a wider spot between the walls, and whispered part of a hymn to Djehuti:

  He who knows the secrets of the heart

  He who records their expressions

  He who sees one tale from another

  He who is judge over all,

  Clear my eyes of all but right vision and truth.

  Relieved by his own prayer, he continued his journey. I must give honor to the god and tell Shepsesi everything I saw today. Dede’s gone too far this time. I know he spoke to Our Father a moment before the man died. Great One must have uttered a spell that’s blocked the king’s memory of the note Menkaure hid in the chair.

  “May the gods be with you, Inspector,” one of the guards stepped forward and spoke when Wserkaf arrived at the cedar and gold gates in the wall surrounding the king’s estate. He bowed, fist balled at his chest in reverence, as the man continued: “state the nature of your business.”

  “I would see their Majesties,” he answered, but added: “Or Her Gracious Majesty if the King has not yet returned from his duties.”

  All so strange, this formality. When Shepsesi and I were merely princes, I only needed to nod and enter. We should pass laws that ease these customs. I miss Khentie. I miss her at my side.

  The guard allowed him inside the gate, then closed it and sent his partner to make the announcement. As he stood and waited, Wserkaf noticed the sensation of unrest coming from the king’s bedroom where Khentie had been sorting things.

  As soon as the guard returned, Wse went with both men and was released to ascend the stairs. When he reached the top step, Khentie ran out to embrace him, but quickly retreated into her well-trained, regal sobriety. Shepseskaf was inside, pacing and uncomfortable from his own recent arrival. The Inspector froze and bowed a greeting to his king.

  Khentie and Bunefer had assumed their places at the king’s side. Together, all three of them looked like a posed statue.

  “Enter, Inspector Wserkaf, enter. The Great Lady has just spoken of you,” The king’s arms unfolded. He picked up something small from a nearby table, then tucked it in the crook of one arm. “Do you bring us some news from your walking world?”

  Giving the king a silent signal, he cleared his throat and glanced side to side at the servants and guards who had come to assist the royal family and himself with any needs. Further out in the landing and a step down the stair, a sesh waited to take down all necessary information.

  A broad hint. That’s what I need, he rolled his eyes
indicating the crowd hovering and waiting for assignments.

  “Great One counseled me today, your majesties, but great Djehuti has finally opened my eyes.”

  Shepseskaf returned the salute, then gestured for any attendants or servants to leave. In another moment, he crossed the room to the doorway and called out to the guards on the lower landing.

  “This will be a private meeting. No one will come to serve or to attend. See that the steward knows the meal for twilight is to be set in the small plaza just before the sun begins its evening journey.” He paused, looking at first thoughtful, then increasingly harsh like an actor coming into a role. “Any evening appointments are now cancelled. If anyone objects, kill them,” he turned from the doorway when he finished speaking.

  At least he’s trying to sound fierce. Still, it’s a poor fit on such a good-natured man. Wserkaf knew Shepsesi had been rumored a lax and far too easy-going man to take on the rule of Kemet. He was about to compliment the effort, but stopped when the king turned again, a weary expression filling his plump face.

  Shepseskaf pulled off his gold striped nemes, flung it aside, scratched his short-shorn head, and rubbed his tired eyes.

  “Now…” he sighed, finding the casual chair left by his father. He dragged it forward and slumped into it. “Now that no eyes are on us, we can speak and act as friends. Take a seat anywhere you like, Wse and my ladies, and let’s talk.” He sat in his chair and pointed out floor cushions for everyone else in the room. The women assisted each other. Soon they were comfortably seated.

  No Eyes? Not what I sense, the inspector breathed, glancing over his shoulder. To obscure what is spoken in trust, to reveal what is not to be trusted, he thought a small prayer to protect the four of them. He couldn’t shake the feeling that somehow his senior could see into the room.

  The king held forward a small shabti doll that looked like Naibe and stared at it as if it enchanted him.

  Wserkaf sucked in his breath because he had just seen the doll in his vision. That the king held it gave the tiny thing extra power and meaning.