“But what about the other things?” Khentie asked.
“I think the two halves have to be together unless this one does something else special. We’ll have to look at this later, or see if we can summon the young man up from Qustul who was using it now. For now, we need to either hide this half or somehow keep Dede from demanding it of us.”
“He’d better not demand it. I’ll simply tell him Shepsesi wanted to observe the contents of it in Ineb Hedj,” Khentie huffed, looking around the chamber for other items before she took the medallion and tucked it in her waistband.
Wserkaf looked narrowly at the disc-shaped bulge.
This isn’t going to work, he shook his head but said nothing before he called out again:
“Great One. Are the others still with you? We thought we heard you speaking to someone.”
“Not anymore,” the elder spoke, not too far in the distance.
Wserkaf thought the man’s voice sounded task-weary, not unlike his demeanor when he was being forced to do something he didn’t want to do.
“They saw one of the guardians residing here and grew fearful, despite my threat to have your father remove them from study. Is everything you’ve discovered undisturbed?” he continued.
“So it seems. We’ve had a success. I’m sending Her Majesty out first,” he answered. “I’m right behind her with the lamp. Is the way still lit with torches?”
“It is,” came the Great One’s answer, now sounding eager to see what emerged.
Wserkaf whispered to Khentie: “See if you can hide the wdjat better. When we come out, call for your attendants and then feign weariness and retire to your bed. Hide it while the priests gawk at the rest of the contents in the box,” he pecked her forehead and helped her climb up onto the flattened slab. Then, he carefully straightened out the items inside so they looked less disturbed.
The purring sensation from the slab began again as Khentie crawled over it.
Hmm. That noise again. Better hurry.
Khentie trained her eyes on the puzzle door. Lights. Light is coming from the last chamber as if the gods have created it. The old man hasn’t reached us yet, she nodded and walked into the tomb chamber. She heard the gentle purring noise and snapped her head around. “Wse, it’s starting to close!”
The slab tilted up smoothly and unforgivingly. Wserkaf slipped as he darted for the opening. He caught himself and threw his hands up in the air.
“The box! Catch it!” Wserkaf called from behind the righting slab.
Khentie dove forward and grabbed the flint box, barely catching it. She set it down, but in that instant the slab had almost closed. The last she saw of Wserkaf was his hands slipping off the top of the slab so they would not be crushed.
“No! I command you in the name of Hethara! Be open for him! Great Lady help him! Please!!” she cried.
In the distance, she heard Hordjedtef’s voice.
“Your Majesty! Has something happened?” the man called into the chamber, sounding as if he was right by the puzzle door.
Hordjedtef, she thought. If you are working the spell that shut this thing – Khentie stared back at the closed slab in desperation. There must be something I can do!
She heard more voices now; a commotion growing nearer.
The slab had slammed tight. The dust was still raining down on her head in the silent chamber. Khentie heard nothing from the other side, as if Wse had accepted his fate. She envisioned hours becoming days and then weeks of men with chisels trying to get into the room to save him only to find her husband’s dead and desiccated form on the other side of the slab.
“Wse!” she pounded her fist into the hard surface in frustration, then placed her hand at the high handholds, then the low, but nothing happened. All remained silent. The shuffling behind her grew louder.
Hordjedtef. Closer. And I have this stupid medallion in my sash as if it was the rarest jewel in the universe. She felt ill and scared as the elder approached behind her. It is the rarest jewel, but not as rare as my beloved. She turned and saw the old man with two younger priests trailing him. Their faces were lined with horror.
“Wserkaf is trapped on the other side,” she pointed at the stone and bowed her head, aware she was allowing her emotion to show and not caring that she was absent of any regal bearing. She clearly heard the very thought from the old mentor that she hoped she would never hear:
But you have the flint box, don’t you?
The elder quickly translated that thought into a more appropriate spoken phrase: “Try to repeat what your heart told you when you first entered the little room. Perhaps it will open again.”
She wasn’t sure if the elder was innocent and sincere or if what he said was another sideways dig at her authority.
You insult me, her thoughts played.
She had been so blissful at the touch of her husband. They had been laughing and playing there and would have progressed through all the levels of sexual love if there hadn’t been a time limit before Hordjedtef arrived to take the treasures.
“My heart – and my thoughts –” she stood upright and turned, “cannot be of concern. If you can help me, please do so.” She secretively secured the medallion in her waistband then placed her hands in each low hold, followed by each of the high holds.
Thmmm.
The stone made a slight noise, but did not move. She tried again, then called out sharply, as if giving an order.
“Wserkaf. Speak if your ears hear me.”
Silence.
She flattened herself against the stone but then felt a tingling sensation at her waistband as if the medallion had begun to come alive.
If I must surrender my body to you, old man, I will soak myself in palm wine until it turns to vinegar. You know what you did in here all those years ago, but I don’t think you were aware of the second spirit who was watching us here. Wse is doomed. The joining of bodies is not enough. There must be love and I have none for you. She knew he could likely read her thoughts if they mattered, but didn’t care.
“I placed my hands in the places but it did not open. I do not know any other way to open without my husband on this side,” she huffed but tensed as the elder drew closer and stood behind her.
“Would Your Majesty allow…” his voice sounded softer.
Oh, Hethara give me strength, her thoughts recoiled and the air rushed out of her lungs. The tingling over her midsection and the hidden medallion increased as if the crystalline rondel wanted to speak to her.
“I need to be level, Your Highness, if you could step back.” She groaned, wondering if some cruel and wicked demon had taken charge and demanded she let the old man mount her to save Wse.
And if I give consent in the name of the goddess, if he is even able at his age, I cannot accuse him later.
Her hand crept between the front of her waistband and the stone, then noticed a slight depression, rounder than the other four.
What’s this? she asked herself, hoping Hordjedtef was obedient enough to stay out of her thoughts while she centered. When Wse and I were lying here, I don’t think it was here. It just formed? Not as deep, but… she wormed the wdjat out of her waistband and clapped it squarely in the middle –
Everything went white. Khentie felt as if lightning had struck her. She felt as if she had been thrown high in the air and along a glittering path to a dark room where a dozen faces stared down at her. Some of them she knew, but couldn’t place their names. One voice seemed to be cautioning others to let her go.
Where is this? she started to say, but knew at once this was not her place and that something was very wrong. She thought she saw Prince Maatkare Raemkai in royal raiment an instant before she flew backward and was pitched to the floor, as if the slab itself had roared ‘Stay Away!’
Strong, familiar arms lifted her.
“Khentie,” Wserkaf drew her up into his arms, pressed her dusty head to his chest, and kissed her face. “Khentie, I thought I’d lost you!”
Two priests cautiously peeked around the edge of the puzzle door. They looked shocked at the intimacy they saw between Khentkawes, the Daughter of the God, and the Great Seer, even thought it was common knowledge the two had lived as man and wife for over twenty years.
Her head whipped around and she saw Hordjedtef leaning heavily on an attendant and making his way into the tomb-filled chamber. Several other priests followed them in.
“Ah. All is well then, Your Great Majesty.” He spoke and she saw his eyes look up as if he had just entered the room for the first time.
“We heard Wserkaf cry out that you were trapped and I called out for the men. More should be here soon, but I will turn them around if you are both well. The pieces of that slab didn’t hurt you when it was blasted by the very gods did it?”
“Pieces of…” Khentie repeated numbly, staring at Wse and then behind him. The door which had separated them lay in jumbled shards on the floor behind her.
“Your courage is noted, Great One,” she stammered, but with each word gained more self-control. “I will commend you to my brother when we return to Ineb Hedj. Leave us though,” she smiled, then gestured to them with the back of her left hand while gripping Wse with her right. “Have these priests stay and move what they can of the fragments, then bless these empty tombs. The larger stone ones are, I think, empty.
At that point, her serene smile faltered. Her thoughts rioted and her composure struggled too.
This is wrong, she thought. Wse was trapped, not I, but here he is taking me into his grasp as if he has just saved me. And Hordjedtef arrives as if he had not been with me earlier. I feel ill. She felt for the wdjat in her sash and realized it wasn’t there.
“I… I…” she tried, but Wserkaf clapped her to his chest and tousled her curling, loose hair
“Don’t speak,” Wserkaf lulled her. “Just calm yourself, Majesty.”
She stood straighter, to keep a flawless appearance to Hordjedtef, the priests, and the others now streaming into the tunnel.
Wserkaf placed a reverent-but-protective arm around Khentie and guided her back into the room behind the broken slab. The flint box was back on its original pedestal. “You two, take this box to the courtyard above at once,” he called two younger priests to him. “When this rubble is cleared, bring out the prayer boxes then put out the lights. This is no longer a protected sanctuary.”
Khentie heard Wserkaf’s words and sensed Hordjedtef’s discomfort, but knew anything further would have to wait. She let Wserkaf lead her from the tomb with the priests, flint box, and knew Hordjedtef trailed behind them.
This is wrong! Everything about this still feels wrong! her thoughts kept screaming. Everything changed when I used the wdjat. I saw Maatkare as king. And was I only a servant? I didn’t belong in that place, and it feels like I don’t belong here either.
She felt a strange drowsiness wash over her as Wserkaf led her from the tunnel. When she closed her eyes in expectation of bright sunlight, she began to drift. She squinted and opened her eyes, then froze in shock. Hordjedtef?
The old man sat on the ground in the middle of the courtyard. He was covered in dust and he looked weak and confused. Several younger priests and others attended him.
“Wse!” he called out, then looked up at the priests. “I’m all right, just help me up.”
The men lifted the Great One of Five and helped set his canes under his arms.
“Great One?” Wserkaf looked back at the entry to the tunnel behind them as the two priests emerged carrying the flint box.
No, No! Not again! Khentie knew Hordjedtef had been following them out of the underground chambers. But it doesn’t feel wrong now. This is right. I’m home, she nodded and smiled at Wserkaf.
“You have the box!” Hordjedtef’s grew wide as plates. He quickly reigned in his expression. “Good, then everything has worked out well.”
Khentie saw that her husband looked as confused as she looked.
“You did not…” he started, then focused on the other priests. A look of recognition came into his eyes. Khentie heard him paraphrase the same thing she thought he’d said earlier. “Gather whoever you can and go back in there. You will find eight empty tombs dedicated to the gods and a shattered wall. When you move all the rubble, bless the empty tombs, and retrieve the boxes of devotion for each one. When you are done put out the lights. It can no longer be a protected sanctuary.”
The priests and all the others except those who held the flint box hustled into the darkness of the chambers behind Wserkaf and Khentie.
“I am taking her majesty to rest, Great One. You appear to need rest as well. Do you need my help to return to your chambers?” Wserkaf asked.
Still looking tired, dirty, and confused, Hordjedtef shook his head. “I’ll manage… but we shall certainly speak later about this, Wse.”
Wserkaf sat with Khentie in their room. He went over the events of the early morning silently as he watched Mya rub his wife’s feet. A fanner created a gentle breeze with the ostrich feather nefet fan.
Before Mya had come, when they were still alone, Khentie had poured out her recollection of events to him. She insisted their positions had magically switched and Hordjedtef had been in two different places. She shut down that talk as soon as Mya appeared. He hadn’t even had time to confirm that he had experienced the same wrong-feeling transition that she had felt.
She’s right, Wserkaf thought as Khentie slipped into tranquility from the massage. I was the trapped one. I just couldn’t get over that slab in time. It rose so quickly. Perhaps Mother’s spirit implored upon the god Ra to reverse our positions somehow and to burst the slab that stood between us. No, it couldn’t be that. It doesn’t explain how Hordjedtef was in the room, then he came back in, and then he was outside with no memory of having come into the tomb at all.
Then there’s the other wdjat. It’s gone as if it never was there at all. He remembered the pile of rubble and wondered if it had fallen off and lay buried beneath it. Priests and attendants laboring over the stony mess in front of the formerly hidden room could find it, or steal it. Still, if one of them aims to keep it for himself, I’m certain the rest of us will find out about it.
He watched Khentie’s eyes close and her lips mouth “I love you”, then thought about another problem. Hordjedtef. He knew the elder would be combing through everything brought out for items of power. I must see what he’s doing with the flint box. After Khentie slept and Mya took a place at her side, the Inspector left the room.
He walked unsteadily from the fatigue and his sleepless night, thinking several times about going to rest himself, but soon he reached the open courtyard. The contents of all eight wooden boxes had been laid out in front of each box and its corresponding lid. As he had suspected, Hordjedtef had gone without rest too and was tasking the priests to inspect the contents carefully. He scolded and urged them to sort the prayers into categories according to each of the eight original gods and goddesses; to say blessing prayers and show proper respect.
Userre sat nearby, looking fascinated but not hiding his dismay.
Wse sat beside him and watched Hordjedtef moving among the young men, who sat cross-legged around the boxes. He was in his element, teaching and making certain each waeb priest formed the characters excellently and understood the tablets they were reading and copying.
“Her Majesty rests well?” Userre looked up suddenly, as if the contents of the boxes meant nothing to him.
“She’s asleep now, but I have a few questions,” Wserkaf kept his voice low and sat next to his father. “Nothing of this morning makes sense. Khentie saw a vision of Maatkare as king, then they told me Khentie was trapped in the secret chamber, when I know I was the one trapped. Hordjedtef was in the tunnel with us, calling to us and with some priests were with him. Then, he was in the plaza as if thrown here. Not both are possible.” Wserkaf indicated Hordjedtef with his eyes.
“That is strange,” Userre chuckled quietly. “Everything happens i
n every way it could at every moment, somewhere. Think of each moment in time as the heart of a sacred lotus. What proceeds branches out in all directions encountering other moments and forming a pattern. Some of us can see it when we meditate, but perhaps this fragmenting of the stone slab between you happened with such force that you actually went elsewhere for a short time, and others like you and Her Majesty came here in your place.”
“But we are unharmed,” Wserkaf objected.
“Not all forces harm the body, my son,” Userre interjected.
“Alright, but that doesn’t explain what happened to…”
Userre shook his head. “The truth of that is unknown to me. Perhaps something moved him, as it moved my priests. They only recall being in bed, then they were in the chamber with Khentie, you, and the shattered doorway. They are quite distressed over the whole matter. Still, we should speak of this no more. You and Khentie are where you belong, back at the heart of it regardless of where you went on the way here.
Wserkaf sighed. He wanted to consider it more, but knew that thinking too long about all that happened might expose his thoughts to his teacher. He looked back to Hordjedtef. “Look at him, Father. See how he wants to go on in his duties as teacher and mentor even when this isn’t even his discipline.”
“At one time, it was.” Userre nodded.
Wserkaf’s eyes widened in surprise.
“That I did not know. I thought he was opposed to this method of chanting and memorization; that he was always a disciple of Djehuti.
“He was once as you are now – Bright and amenable to becoming Great Seer. Great Khafre saw that, and it was in the plans to create a position of high priest supervisor over the right and the left before it became a dictate of our most recent king.
I was once as you are: his assistant, but on that will say no more as it is a time long passed. After things in darkness occurred, he elected to keep the disciplines divided and became the Great One of Five at Khmenu.”
Wserkaf didn’t press his father on anything else. He sat and mused about everything he had just heard. Hordjedtef continued to move among the priests, nodding and proud as if he had come home finally.
Heart of the Lotus Page 18
