The hooded man stumbled closer. I watched, paralyzed. Nefertiti, Kiya, and Beketaten clung to each other and shrieked.
“Ya black magic’s not welcome in Egypt no more!” Suty said.
Throwing back the hood of night, shaggy gray hair and a beard tumbled from the dark folds. Ancient wisdom lay buried behind cloudy cataracts. “You!” the man said, looking past Akhenaten. Our eyes locked and my jaw dropped in confusion. My fingers clamped onto Father’s bracelet.
His voice cracked like dry twigs. “Do not fall prey to your teachings! The answers are right here, but you must see, hear, and feel them!”
Dashing forward, Suty cut the man down with a single slash across the abdomen. The cloak collapsed in a heap and the air shook as if thunder boomed.
Akhenaten raised his crocodile-bone blade with serrated edge of teeth, the golden hilt glistening in the sun. “This magician will trouble us no more.” Closing his eyes, he chanted.
Kiya approached the pelt, as if confused.
“His magic will be released!” Ay shouted, shielding himself behind Nefertiti.
Lunging over, Beketaten grabbed Kiya’s wrist as she reached for the cloak. A gnarled hand lashed out at Beketaten from under the night sky pelt.
Journal Translation
SNATCHING BEKETATEN’S ANKLE, the gnarled hand yanked it out from under her. She shrieked as she flopped onto her back. This magician’s other liver-spotted appendage shot out from beneath the cloak, his fingers squeezing Beketaten’s belly. Chanting emerged from Beketaten’s own lips, but the words couldn’t have been her own. The hands fell limp and retracted, the pelt sinking as if the body melted beneath.
I gasped in wonder. Suty lifted Beketaten’s gangly frame, shoved her away, and stabbed the cloak. Flinging the garment aside with the tip of his blade revealed only a black stain.
“He laid his filth in the Grand Temple of the Aten!” Akhenaten said, his face more red than sunset. “And he interrupted our worship uttering those names. This was no random act! I will return to the court and retaliate!” Striding over to the black stain he rammed his mandible-bone blade deep. The air sucked out of my lungs as if someone had struck me. Beketaten screamed and grabbed her belly, her face pale. Akhenaten marched away.
Curiosity welled up within me. The old man had appeared to be addressing me. Buried emotions swirled. If I searched for answers as the magician had suggested, I’d betray Akhenaten, the Aten, and the life I’d been dealt. This seemed evil. But I felt more alive than I had in months, or perhaps fog-shrouded years.
After Akhenaten called for priests to remove the stain, the group followed him out of the temple. Only Nefertiti and Kiya remained, enthralled with the missing body. I couldn’t continue hoping for a perfect moment with my love. Life didn’t work in such ways. I needed to make the moment happen, or I’d soon die in this place. Fear and doubt clouded my mind and agitated my hands, but as Nefertiti walked away I caught her arm.
“Nefertiti,” I said, “it’s been too long since I’ve been able to speak with you.”
The corners of her red lips turned up into a smirk, her dark eyes sparkling. “I miss our days together.” She sighed. “Things were so much simpler only a short time ago, but this seems like another life.”
“I miss you. And I’m going to find out what just happened. I-I, love you …”
Blushing, her grin broadened and revealed perfect teeth. “I’ve loved you too, Horemheb, but life is complicated …”
Her words rang like the most beautiful music I’d ever heard, and I nearly collapsed in shock. She said she loved me! I had worried I’d been living a fantasy. Warmth spread from my heart throughout my body. “I’ll find the answers this madman spoke of,” I said, beaming. “It must have to do with my father and the magician. But I will come for you soon and save you from this hell. We will create our own lives if we cannot rid the world of Akhenaten.”
“I don’t see how—”
“Akhenaten, Mahu, and my father have told me what I’m supposed to do with my life, but I’m not settling. You rescued this poor servant the first day I laid eyes on you.”
Laughing, her wide smile was more captivating than anything I’d ever seen.
Kiya yanked Nefertiti away, shouting in a heavy accent.
“Horemheb …” Nefertiti glanced back, her eyes pleading for me to save her.
“I tried to find Bes,” I said, pulling forth my amulet, “but thus far I’ve failed. I pray the scarab will ease the darkness within you.”
Jerking from Kiya’s grip, she reached out. But she paused. “Horemheb,” she said, “I have a dozen of these, and mine are made of gold and precious jewels.”
My heart sank in defeat, a chill replacing its new warmth. Why did I believe a worthless trinket would help her?
Priests escorted the women away. But on the ground lay the black panther skin.
Snatching the cloak, the coarse fur poked my palm, but its silver stars glistened. I wadded up the garment and held it behind my back, marching directly to my room. Thankfully, my roommate was gone. Lifting my blanket, I laid the pelt out on the reed mattress and covered it. I strode out to find Akhenaten and report for duty one last time.
The royal court had gathered before their god-king. A feverish discussion raged, so I grabbed a serving pitcher and carried it to my post beside the recessed throne of gold.
“He spoke to Akhenaten’s servant,” Ay said, his orange eye shadow blurring as he swung his head around to gaze at the members.
Pressing my back against the wall, I attempted to remain inconspicuous.
“He pointed at me!” Akhenaten boomed, his knuckles blanching as he squeezed the heads of his sphinx. “That servant has been mine since he was a child and has nothing to offer anyone. They fear my power. We will ensure that all the dark priests and cults are accounted for, those the plague did not wipe out.” Closing his eyes, his black lids stretched across his face.
“Dark priests?” Ay gasped, leaning back. “What do they want?”
“To challenge my authority, to challenge God!”
“No one would challenge you, my Pharaoh,” Ay said.
Most nodded in swift agreement, but a couple men gave delayed acknowledgements. Intriguing. Did some in the court not approve of the new god-king? But how could they question the will of the Aten?
“The military will scour Thebes,” Akhenaten said. “Every alley and rat hole. Cults cannot hide. They will be tracked,” he snarled the rest, “especially those of Amun.”
“Pardon me, Pharaoh,” the withered man said, “but the other cults have been with us since the beginning of civilization, if not longer. We cannot treat them like animals.”
Akhenaten glared. “Those priests and their followers skulk around, hiding who they really are amidst the masses. They poison our lands. They and the outside civilizations are the paramount threat to the security of our kingdom!”
“My lord,” the man replied in an even tone, spreading arms like twigs, “Amenhotep left Egypt with the greatest wealth and prosperity since Menes received the throne from God hundreds of generations ago. We stand atop the pinnacle of the world—”
“What is your point?” Akhenaten asked.
Swallowing, he smacked his purple lips. “Amenhotep formed allegiances outside our borders and within. We didn’t live in fear.”
Akhenaten’s fist crashed onto a sphinx with the sound of a drum beat. “There are men who could use magic to sear the flesh from your brittle old bones. If Egypt is to continue to achieve greater and greater prosperity, we cannot let others unite and challenge us. I am not ordering punishment. But we need to track the affairs of the cults in our midst, their whereabouts, and their families. Preemptive knowledge is far superior to a post-war history lesson.”
The old man’s cheeks flushed. “The people thrive. We have all we can eat and drink, a surplus for taxes, trade with the outside world, and more commodities than ever. Perhaps there is a line beyond which wealth becomes detrimen
tal. And the Dark Ones and The Shadows, the Nine Bows, the Sea Peoples,” his hands waved wildly overhead, “barbarians, Asiatics, Kush, and the Nubians are scattered. We do not need to account for every Egyptian pagan—”
“You may be old,” Akhenaten whispered, his thin cheek muscles bulging, “but you still have not learned you cannot trust those beneath you.” Screaming, he pointed over their heads. “They are always plotting to take power! Whether from the inside or the outside, you must be prepared, or even God may not grant you the favor of victory.”
Tense silence reigned.
“Now,” Pharaoh said, “we locate every man, woman, and child who puts enough faith in the other gods that they would still utter their names. I have discovered a way to detect them. Find them all!”
The attendees exited, but the withered man remained before the elevated throne and motioned for Akhenaten to come closer. Pharaoh snatched the golden scepter he now used as his walking stick and stepped down.
“Is this why you shipped crates of breeding scorpions to Thebes?” the elder man asked.
Akhenaten gnashed his teeth.
“A servant opened a box by accident as he couldn’t read the warning.” White eyebrows arched onto his forehead. “Is this plague really what it seems?”
“Listen, my friend,” Akhenaten said, his demeanor shifting to one of concern. “The plague is spreading. Soon Egypt will be covered in its darkness, and unless we follow only the Aten and his teachings, we will fall. Come, and I will tell you how I know this.” Guiding the man toward the columns, Akhenaten motioned to someone in the shadows. “After the plague comes pestilence, and scorpions are the best defense against the locust …”
A monstrous figure with a scarred pig’s ear emerged from the darkness.
Journal Translation
HOISTING THE OLD MAN BY HIS neck, Akhenaten squeezed. The victim’s eyes bulged out of their sockets and a gurgle escaped his lips. Crocodile bone and teeth buried into his stomach. Slumping to the ground, the body writhed and twisted into a mummy in a matter of seconds. Suty scooped up the desiccated corpse as Akhenaten licked his dripping blade.
I recoiled in terror.
“Pentju!” Akhenaten yelled. “Has the plague reached the Palace of the Aten?”
The watermelon-headed doctor waddled back in, sweat glistening upon his brow. Suty placed a large hand over the wound on the dead man’s stomach. Councilmen and advisors reappeared with ghastly expressions.
“Marks of the plague!” the doctor said. “Keep your distance!”
Clenching my jaw, I suppressed outrage at the deceptive doctor. Pentju was Akhenaten’s pawn. So perhaps the son of Hapu was not.
Suty rolled the carcass into a dark rug and rushed out with it.
Court members gasped. Perhaps they realized Akhenaten had killed the old man and they couldn’t do anything about it. One pointed at a red spot and whispered to another.
“He coughed up blood before collapsing,” Pentju said, tugging at the rolls of his neck.
Striding toward an exit, I kept my head down. The Aten faded into twilight.
“Servant!” Akhenaten said. “Stand beside me.”
Freezing in terror, I swallowed before sauntering over to my vile master.
As I neared he whispered, “What did you see?”
“An old man,” I said. “He questioned you, but you walked with him as a friend. He choked and collapsed. Suty saved us by whisking the infected corpse away after the doctor’s diagnosis.” Decay rotted my heart from the inside out like a fruit, and my ba shriveled inside my mortal bones.
Akhenaten’s dark orbs bored into mine. “What do you believe happened?”
“The plague strikes those who question the Aten and incur his wrath.”
Grinning, he patted my shoulder. “You have grown up to become a good servant.”
After Pharaoh turned away, I leaned against the wall. Memories of the monarch butterfly filled my mind. I vomited bloody chunks, hiding my face as spittle strung from my lips.
“We’ve already confirmed another plague death within the palace!” the doctor said as he lumbered into the audience hall again, heaving for breath.
The room fell silent.
“This one is only a servant,” he said. “He’d been complaining of fatigue and retired to his room. Someone just found him dead.”
Whispers carried up and out of the open roof of the chamber.
Akhenaten bellowed, “We must identify the cults and priests in hiding to win back the favor of the Aten. Now go!”
The council scrambled out. Akhenaten retired to his room, alone.
Exhaling an overdue breath released some of my tension. Was a servant given the plague to make the old man’s death less suspicious? Or perhaps it was the person who’d seen the evidence in the scorpion crate …
I raced to my room, eager to inspect my new possession. Standing in a corner, Croc glared at my bed with his hackles raised. He stalked around the bedding and sniffed the air as if he detected the dead priest or panther.
Hoping to find answers, I inspected the black pelt and then wrapped it around my body. The panther head slipped over mine, and a chill sunk into my bones. Distant screams filled the night sky.
Croc reacted in such a slow, drawn-out fashion, it couldn’t have been real. His whiskers crawled back over his head, his mouth teased opened, and a hiss rang out. His curse carried on for a minute before he crouched, his muscles tensed, his skin wobbled, and his feet left the floor.
Choking in surprise, I glanced around. What new magic was this? He moved in ultra-slow motion!
Leaping so sluggishly into the air, Croc appeared to float. And his eyes dilated so lethargically, I watched them expand from slits to black orbs. Reaching his peak height, he slowly descended. I stroked his orange fur as he glided to the floor, his claws extending as slowly as a snail.
A clatter from the doorway stole my attention, carrying on as slow as Croc’s hiss. Standing under lamplight, Pentju’s eyes moved as if almost frozen. I squeezed Father’s bracelet and jumped back.
“I …” the single sound crawled out of the doctor’s mouth as moisture from his tongue released its hold. The droplets appeared to hover in the air before tracking toward the earth. “Th …” a new sound began. Crouching in the shadows, I pushed the hood off so that he wouldn’t see my new prize. The distant cries faded. “Thought he’d have come to bed,” Pentju said as Croc landed and darted out the window in a flash.
“Tell him about his roommate tomorrow,” a voice outside said. “We can’t wait.”
I watched the doctor leave, astonished. How did he not see me? Running a hand across the star-lined cloak, I leapt up. Was it magical? But what about my roommate? Was he the one who’d discovered the scorpion crate—
“Were you hiding?” Mudads asked, peeking inside. “Pentju was just looking for you.”
Nodding, I lowered my gaze to veil the lie.
“I understand,” he said, stepping away. “I wouldn’t want to be blamed and quarantined for the plague again, either.”
My skin crawled with eerie delight. I was finally on the right side of magic and could enact my revenge on all those who’d wronged me. Clenching my jaw, I attempted to control my emotions. Was Mutnedjmet right about friendship and not pursuing vengeance? I was not as ignorant as I had been, but had the wickedness all around transformed my character?
Pulling the panther’s empty eyes down over my own, distant shrieks carried through the window. I lunged into the hall and waved at the guard. Nothing. I clapped. Mudads’ neck turned as fast as the sun moving across the sky, his skin leisurely folding. I didn’t possess any more patience. I’d used up all I owned over the last few years.
My pulse quickened as I recalled the nights in Memphis when I felt alive, when I could determine my own fate. I couldn’t enact revenge on the immortal Akhenaten, so I’d find answers about these cults and who Amun was, in hopes of saving Father and Nefertiti.
Sprinting out of
the palace, I passed multiple watchmen. No one acknowledged me. The cries in the distance grew louder. What made these sounds? Slinking between the sphinxes at the entryway, I gazed out into the wild night. My feet were light, my eyes and mind clear.
A black cloud concealed the moon, but pale light reflected off the sky behind. A fierce gale roared and I tasted the grit of sand. Birds soared across the night sky, like migrating flocks without directional instinct. Why were so many fowl out? I’d seen nighthawks and owls, but these were different. They arced back and forth with the speed of the wind, in all different shapes and sizes.
Through the gusts and screams, soft whispers called me onward.
A troop of armed soldiers appeared frozen while climbing aboard a barge on the palace lake. Sneaking onboard, I hid behind a stack of crates before removing my hood. The screams faded, as well as the swarming birds.
Wind tore at the mast, but the sails didn’t open. Picking up oars, the soldiers rowed out of the canal and into the expanse of the river—toward the city of Thebes on the east bank. The soft breaking of wood on water was masked under the howling gale. We were silent, like a tiger stalking prey. Rain splattered the deck as we docked. Piling out, men armed themselves as if ready for war, broke up into divisions, and followed their leaders into the world’s largest city.
Tailing a group, I watched two soldiers smash down a door. A dazzling bolt of lightning flashed across the sky, and a clap of thunder quickly answered. Dragging the inhabitants out into the rain, the interrogation, screaming, and shouting were muffled.
A glimmer of green flashed to my left, accompanied by whispers like those that brought me to the boat. As I approached, the hum grew louder. A green mist cast itself upon a street, more than wide enough for pairs of horses and chariots traveling in both directions. But the road sat empty, save for the hundreds of stone sphinxes lining either side. With this many guardians the path must lead to God himself, but it ran off into darkness to my left and right. Donning my hood, I stepped into the street. Cries filled the night sky, as well as thousands of swirling birds.
Eve of the Pharaoh: Historical Adventure and Mystery Page 26
