“The woman is at peace now. You should let her rest.” Marai searched desperately for the approval of her nameless descendants. As for the priest...after all of these months of wanting contact with his kind, Marai wanted this man gone immediately. The desired reunion with his family was in ruins, thanks to this meddling priest. He needed to explain, in his own way, why he had come to the young man and to tell him his life wouldn’t be so hard any more. He needed to tell him his family would find the same prosperity working with the Sangir as he had found.
The young stoneworker remembered his grandmother telling him her brother Marai was very tall and strong. A son of his might also be big like this man, he thought. But, he thought, was his savta dreaming and talking nonsense or was she telling some impossible truth? Djerah realized the priest had also reacted rather strongly to the name “Marai”. For such an educated one, that said plenty. He knew what he had heard. She called this one Marai ... The words same man flashed in his thoughts, but the young man shook his shaggy black head and said to himself
That’s impossible.
Marai caught the look in the stonecutter’s eyes, and read that thought. He realized this chance encounter with the priest and with his great grand-nephew was about to slip out of his control. Despite his desire to plant himself firmly on the waterfront at Houra’s side, he knew he would have to personally usher this prying priest of Djehuti out of the swampy and stinking market in order to fully deal with him.
“Look, I have a room up the way.” Marai stood at full, imposing height and looked down at the priest who wasn’t a short man himself. “We’d be better off talking there... if I may finish this.”
The priest, who was waiting patiently for Marai to say something else that he might read, took a step back. He stared in surprise that this big sojourner had addressed him as if he were a co-worker, and at the fact he was so very huge. He’d become quite indifferent to the unfolding drama at this poor tent, but the sojourner’s casual manner retrieved his attention.
With a curt nod and a “Very well then” the priest drew his dark blue-purple hood up over his head and stepped outside of the sour smelling tent, indicating Marai should finish his business quickly.
“Young man...” Marai cleared his throat, then touched the stoneworker’s sprained and slightly swelling wrist. “Etum Addi and my family have more business than we want, I tell you. Your wife may have said it...” He spoke quickly, but the young man only noticed his wrist felt a little warm for a moment. It had stopped throbbing. The swelling was gone.
“I know you’re contracted across the water, but just send the rest of your people up to the Kina market. You can stay below us at no cost. Etum Addi will just adjust your take on the day’s work. You’ll see.”
“What? Are you raving?” The part time basket-man and stoneworker let his arms fall, “And what did you just do to my hand? You a sorcerer?” The young man turned his back on Marai to quell his rising urge the urge to confront and perhaps punch the big man on principle.
The priest glanced into the tent again and put his forefinger to his lips over the idea that the young man had been miraculously healed by the man who had just injured him.
“Well, do it or don’t...trust blood or don’t trust it....” Marai sighed, exasperated, but not blaming the stonecutter’s caution one bit. “I’ll come back to see the old woman when I can...” he turned to leave.
Houra was fading from her life while he stood there. Little more could be done for her. It was simply her time. Marai knew he would probably be able to get back to the waterfront for just a few more hours as soon as he dealt with the priest. He could be with her then as she passed. After that, he would somehow try to mend the distance in his estranged family. Sweet Houra, now grown old in what seemed a flash of an instant, was at peace now. She would rest easily and in no pain until he returned.
Marai felt the memory of the thought he’d had the night he walked to the vessel in the sand. The Children told Houra long ago, that she would live until Marai came to her again...that she was to somehow keep the family together. He had even whispered the consolation to her in his own dream: Do what you must. Now all had circled around and had come to pass. Houra’s courageous soul could lift itself into the brightness knowing she’d done well.
There were too many emotions crowding the sojourner’s thoughts. He knew the priest would be able to read them and learn too much if he didn’t leave the Poors Market soon. Suddenly motioning to the somewhat astonished priest who had begun to pace up and down outside the tent wall, he breathed, hardly able to contain his wild delight.
“I’ve been waiting for one of your class to show up for a long time.”
The Child Stone in his head purred joyously, suddenly more awake and aware than it had been in months.
There is something here
It knows you Man of Mari
It greets you Man of Ai
The sojourner and the priest emerged from the tent-hovel area in total silence. At first, each man successfully blocked the other’s thoughts while they strode up the slight rise to the Little Kina-Ahna market.
Marai was so excited, that he abandoned even more decorum by outpacing the priest as they walked. The priest, a man who appeared to be past youth but not yet old, was in excellent condition from years of physical discipline. Marai sensed his litheness came from worship dance. Perhaps he was even an instructor of that art. His being above average height but still shorter than Marai made the task of keeping up a difficult one.
“The apprentice of Djedi is one in your holy house, isn’t he?” Marai paused to turn for a moment to look back at the priest who was steadily working to gain on him. He bent slightly to the man in the billowing dark blue cloak. The intense, icy blackness welling in the priest’s eyes, showed Marai that he didn’t really need the man’s answer. He already knew the answer to his question.
By the time the two men reached the Etum Addi’s booth, the very air around them both seemed to be trembling. Marai grinned like a madman as they paused by the Sanghir, his family, and the women. He whispered about the kinfolk he had met, including that this missing Djerah, the husband of Raawa, had actually turned out to be one of Houra’s descendents.
Ariennu’s jaw dropped when she heard the news but she grew more astonished when she noticed the man in the cloak who had followed Marai. Jumping up from her bench, with a few necessary gestures to Naibe and Deka, she darted past the two men and trotted up the brick steps to their apartment.
Marai fumbled through an introduction of the priest to the Sangir merchant who had risen and then bowed low with averted eyes as soon as he saw the rank of the priest.
The priest was busying himself with the aimless observation of the market while he caught his breath from the brisk walk, but instantly composed himself and took on a practiced regal air.
“May I present my employer Etum-Addi of Ur-on-the-Sea, many years here from Sangir land. This is...” Marai knew he didn’t have the priest’s name, but he was hoping he would catch the priest off guard enough that the man would reveal it himself.
The priest smirked almost playfully and put his fingers to his lips again. His eyelids closed halfway and then he answered quietly.
“Oh, rest assured, my good sojourners, I am indeed ‘One of them’.” He took an almost flippant attitude of kindly superiority as if he had said:
Poor uneducated ones, you cannot know my actual name until I grant you that permission.
Marai felt his own eyes silvering a little at the perceived insult.
Upstairs, Ariennu busied herself with all of the preparations to appear as a perfect senior wife. Ordinarily, the appearance of any kind of stranger at her home, perhaps not even the king would have rattled her. Her hands shook with excitement as she set out mats and pulled back the drape over the big window and door. Something about the priest had caused her heart to race in an uncustomary terror.
He’s the one... I know he’s the one...Damn... Oh Marai, my precio
us man, be careful around him! She faced the only stool they owned into the room. so that it was partway in the door to catch any breeze moving in through the window. After she set out the lukewarm cups of beer, she retired to a lap loom she kept stored near the back of the apartment. As the men entered, she wanted to appear busy with a task so that she could read any nuances of discord. She began to edge a white linen cloth with a brown border.
When the two men had climbed the stairs, the priest placed his staff against the wall and lowered his hood, but did not remove his cloak. This made it known he didn’t want to waste too much time with this visit. He was simply going to finish the conversation he had begun outside. As if his cloak had been trained not to bunch or wrinkle, it appeared to move flawlessly with him as he sat on the stool.
“Tell me then, what do you know of this Djedi?” The priest sniffed, more than delicately, at the cup of beer Ariennu had offered.
“Gracious Woman,” He hailed her politely in high Kina-anhkt, as if he knew she would be listening to them. “I’ve no thirst for this. A refreshment was given to me a short while ago at waterfront. Perhaps you would drink it yourself...” His long immaculately groomed fingers which seemed as if they had grown an extra joint wrapped securely around the cup, before he put it aside.
He’s never labored in the fields, that’s for sure! Marai knew in an instant.
The palms of the priest’s hands were nearly smooth. He exuded so much elegance that it made him seem even more mysterious. Deka, Marai realized, possessed that same demeanor of nobility.
The priest noticed Marai was still standing in the middle of the room, almost crowded at the ceiling he had built.
“Oh...and do sit before me, this is your home, is it not?” He smiled pleasantly, as if attempting to set his hosts at ease. “Now, about the man named Djedi, how is it that you learned this name?” he asked again.
Marai sat quietly on his floor mat, between the back of the room where Ariennu was weaving, but facing the priest in the doorway.
“I know Lord, that he has been in Aaru the ‘Field of Reeds’ for more than fifty years.” Marai began his answer softly. “I also know he was a lector, a Kheri-hb, and that he could converse more wisely than the best of them...And...” Marai knew his eyes were starting that silver glimmer of open friendliness that needed almost no boost from the children. He could feel their collective sighs inside him that created an almost rushing and seductive aura. “that he became the favorite magician in the court of his king...making many predictions concerning the future of the ruling family and of the two lands.” Marai smiled craftily and drank his own cup of beer, waiting confidently for a reaction.
“Elegantly stated...” The priest smiled less perceptibly than his host. “All that you have said is true, but these statements are of great and known legend that have most certainly spread beyond our borders by this time.” His eyes scanned the room and paused to study Ariennu as she wove.
Ari felt the slight dig of his thoughts as surely as if he were poking her with one of his extra long fingers.
You are his consort then? Skilled also? She felt him ask. Without any reaction, she tucked in her thoughts. She was, after all, a “mere senior wife” who had been told very little outside the needs of her husband on a day-to-day basis.
As far away as the market, Naibe and Deka sensed Ariennu creating the illusions of simplicity and secrecy. They stared at each other, first in shock, then in concern, wondering if they should make some kind of excuse to Etum-Addi to go join her. Naibe pressed her temples slightly (pretending another headache) and tried to sense the words being spoken in the apartment. She heard Marai and the priest discussing the old wizard, Djedi. So far, everything spoken seemed friendly enough.
He was versed in all of the ancient wisdom of the ‘First Time’, when the gods walked as men, yet revealed the source of his knowledge to only one. It is the way it has always been. Great One keeps our secrets like the Benu. If the Benu reaches the end of it’s sentence on this earth and no heir has been chosen, the secrets go into another form until one comes to unlock them.
Naibe gasped at the priest’s open thoughts. If Marai was hearing this as easily as she heard it, perhaps it was a test...a tidbit of low level secret.
“I think... I think they are talking about this heir of Djedi now...” She shrugged and gestured that it might be better to leave well enough alone. Deka shook her head “no”, then sighed a little about the rising heat.
Few people were in the market now. The barges with the carved slabs of polished grey marble were being pulled down the river by hundreds of oarsmen. Smaller guiding boats steered the barge toward the grand canals and causeway. It would take all afternoon to get them moved, turned and threaded up to the construction sites and burnishing areas near the Eternal House for King Menkaure. People stopped to watch, knowing any distraction or bad move could cause rope to snap, slabs to slide and men to be knocked into to water and either eaten by crocodiles or drowned before they could be rescued. Even if no one died, the slabs could easily slip and come to rest on the river bottom forever, ruining their entire journey from the quarries in the upper land to Ineb Hedj.
Citizens strained and pointed. The sun caught some glittery raiment assembled at the shore, far across the water. The King himself and other dignitaries were watching the operation very carefully.
Deka told Etum-Addi they were going to close their part of the stand and take the supplies up to their room. Once the esteemed guest left, they would spend the evening making more treats to sell the following day. It would be rude for only Ariennu to attend Marai. Naibe went to Etum-Addi and quietly explained that the priest who had arrived was another important person her husband had been seeking. It might also be wise to offer him some of the wares and secure even more business on the other side of the river.
The Sangir nodded slowly, agreeing. He knew that most higher ranking priests had been personally appointed by the King and might have his ear. And the girl Naibe always got her way. Who could refuse her? he grinned.
Naibe-Ellit blushed a little at the thought she pulled from the merchant...
Oh! Do that, little dove...and then maybe do your little shake bottom dance, too? He enthusiastically scooted the two of them to their courtyard, took the barrel of dates up to the landing for them, then turned to go back to his stall.
Upstairs, Marai’s eyes pried once again, but came up with the priest’s same well-practiced blankness. The conversation was fairly mundane now. The men were discussing the weather, the past and the coming festivals, and the plight of the unfortunate people at the waterfront.
At that moment, Deka and Naibe-Ellit tugged the sweets through the door. Deka entered first, bowing low as she eased by the priest. Her hand movements mimicked the dance like exchange she had shown the sesh months before, as if she had begun to weave a charm. Strangely, her gestures put the priest at ease.
The priest sought her eyes for a moment as she rose to continue toward her favorite perch in “her” window.
“Ah...then...You are Ta-Ntr! House of the Great Lion Apedemek Metaut, perhaps!” he exclaimed. “I am teaching a sesh at temple…” His smile was genuine but a slight cold filled the air between Deka and himself.
“Lord High One,” she answered curtly. “I believe I may be all you have said but I do not remember. Long ago, I became ill and a fever took away all of my memories.” She sat, with an almost pained expression before shutting her eyes. Taking a deep breath she let her spirit soar up and away.
“Interesting...” The priest smoothed the ends of his short-coifed dark hair where it met his neck. “Has this man healed you, then? Of all but your memory?” He asked, but noticed she was staring intently at the horizon and at the tops of the houses in the distance. Deka had drawn into her usual deep meditation.
Marai felt the tremor in the air around her and was about to make an excuse, but Naibe began to drag the basket a little further inside the door, apologizing to the priest for mov
ing past him.
The man stood, bending to help her, then smiled wistfully. Before he sat again, he pulled the stool a little further in, to shade himself from the sun’s rays which were now reaching further into the room.
A sense of foreboding crept through Naibe’s chest like an invisible dancing demon. She understood perfectly well what this meeting with the priest meant.
Marai knew she did, but he couldn’t allow her worries to distract him.
The priest studied all of the women, trying to find out more about Marai through their thoughts. That the priest had actually risen from the chair to help Naibe-Ellit with the candy, as any ordinary man might, hinted of something else about him.
Uncomfortable, Naibe went to sit by Ariennu for a moment, helping her with the weaving.
Marai, out of the corner of his eye, noticed them finger-talking frantically under the guise of handling the shuttle and thread.
“On the matter of Djedi...” The priest continued, “How is it that his name came to you, who have claimed to be of the wilderness? He had many names, but that was his birth name. Most Akkad do not know more than a single name of the very king who is Lord over them, and know none of those in his court, or the names of any of the holy women.” He probed Marai’s own open visage, and found nothing hiding beneath it’s surface. All he sensed was the slight disturbance in the air from the russet skinned woman seated in the window. He knew she was ill at ease with his visit.
“I was told to seek him by a spirit who came to me in my home some years ago...” Marai suggested. “I have come far to do so.”
Naibe-Ellit sighed a little, as if tired. The waif-like helplessness and trembling she had mastered begin to exude from her before she raised her eyes. Their light brown color had become gold and it glittered with a different fire.
Marai knew she and the Child Stone within her were planning an enchantment.
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