Opener of the Sky

by Mary R Woldering

  Did he recognize this moment when my soul wandered backward? Impossible. If he did, then he knows I am alive. Does he know, or have I changed things completely by coming back and seeing everything once again?

  We can tell you this one knows

  Something has taken place

  Which he cannot control.

  He believes it is the death of his king

  The ascension of an unloved prince.

  His thoughts are occupied with this…

  But do you know? Marai asked. Is this some game for you that you know the outcomes but are watching me and my ladies suffer through it? Is that why you do not protect us or warn us? Is it what you do to throw down the challenges for us and then wager on the outcomes as we suffer? Is it?

  We do not challenge you.

  We do not know which choice you will take.

  We know the answers and the extensions of the results to three or four densities

  But cannot warn you in such manner that

  Your will is no longer free to create your own wisdom.

  The voices stilled in a kind of reverence as Marai revisited the porch step of his apartment where Ariennu was holding him quietly. Once again, he felt her breathing into his hair and begging him not to go to the priests… to stay and quit this foolishness. There he was, inside his old self, wanting her desperately and strongly considering changing his mind. She was hotter than fire itself that morning, and he wanted to give her his love just once more before he left, but shook his head and gave her his longest and best kiss until she swatted him and pushed him away.

  “Damn you, Marai…” he heard her throaty giggle follow… “You got yourself as hard as a post, doing that. Now, get you gone before I make you stay.”

  All of the days melted into nothing. Her hand teased and stroked him until he took it away, shook his head and pecked her nose again before…

  “Just come back to me…” she had said, tears in a woman who never cried over anything almost starting.

  His thoughts and spirit spun beyond that moment.

  If I had stayed? What would the future have held? Would I have completed the task of getting the Children of Stone to their destination some other way? He thought of being a merchant, fathering children… of thawing out the frozen parts in Deka’s heart. A sigh of passion filled him. The next memories were at once beautiful and painful.

  Naibe, sweet one of the goddess walking. You… all of the moments all of the hours in which we healed each other. What madness was it that I could even think of parting from you? They’re hurt. I know it, he thought internally, directing his feelings toward the Child Stone in his brow. They suffer with this man who has them, and I’m on this journey of dreams and memories. I need to go. Show my thoughts the magic and the knowledge to make it happen. I don’t want to waste another instant.

  Calm.

  In your anguish you have forgotten

  What you call time is a thing of Earth

  It is hard for us to know this.

  We are flawed in this way.

  The small, hushed chorus of voices reminded him. He knew. It had been nothing to them to knock him out for five and then fifty years; to take three months to cleanse him of the poison. Perhaps they had intended for him to sleep longer, since he had been so ill on waking, he thought. He felt his spirit lurch and once again he was standing in the luminous clouded place, naked and newly changed. He was wandering into the green area and sitting by a pool. The water had boiled and a stem of a plant-like thing had risen out of it with a platform containing food.

  You brought me here to remember how you had created things from nothing for me! He thought. Do you intend to make me a faster boat? Why not make me fly?

  We whisper to the heart.

  At first, we created things

  Because you could not.

  You are stronger now.

  You think I can make a flying boat. I don’t even have a regular boat, Marai was about to curse, but suddenly found himself snapping back through time with such a speed that his illusion-draped peasant body flinched.

  “What’s the matter with you? Drunk?” some non-descript older man who had settled next to him during the singing about the king moved away, making a gesture of protection. Marai tensed, because he knew the man would have tried to tease the bag of stones from his belt.

  “I – I must have dozed,” Marai shook himself, amazed that no time had passed. The older man had actually been near him before he began his spiritual flight. “A dream, I suppose.”

  The old man nodded, laughing a little.

  “Well, I have a spot in a field near here… with… my son,” Marai suggested “We’re journeying up the river to the next sepat to see about some work. I’d better go sleep this off.” As Marai spoke, he noticed the man didn’t appear quite as poor as the others in this group. I’ll just ask him, he thought, assuming he already knew the answer.

  “You wouldn’t know about where I might get a boat, would you? I have some few goods I can give someone for it as long as it floats.”

  The man took a step back, studied Marai, touched his own lower lip and said.

  “Actually…” he began, pointing to a group of dark oval shapes at the shoreline. “Over there. It floats, but leaks like a bastard. I have a new one but can’t get shed of the old one. Men who can afford a wood one want it to be true for the trade. I was about to undo the planking for shoring up the new one.”

  Marai’s jaw dropped. The Child Stones in his bag pulsed in silent agreement as if they were nodding about the transaction. “A wood boat? How much… I have some…” the sojourner knew a wood boat in any serviceable condition would be costly. He had been about to offer some pierced turquoise beads good for making jewelry but the man rocked back and forth on his feet and answered:

  “Take it. If you and your ‘boy’ can get it out of here before I wake in the morning and rethink the beer I’ve had, it’s yours. It will sink after a bit if you don’t tar it, though, so be warned… won’t take a hit from any of the hippos if you wrong them. I think Goddess Tauret has my name on her list, so I’d offer her something before you get in it,” he laughed and pointed to the water. “See the one flipped over among the others? My last try to get the timber dry.”

  Marai followed the man to the water to look at the boat, mildly irritated that the man insinuated Djerah was his “blissful boy” or keleb. Then again, he didn’t look old enough in his illusion to have a grown son.

  The wood was evil looking and scummy. He nodded, bowed, thanked the man and hoisted it over his head with a grin. He paid no attention to the impressed gasps of the few who saw him as he moved up the rise to his tent and sleeping Djerah.

  You did this? he asked the Child Stone in his own brow as he gingerly unloaded the boat from his shoulders and set it down. Just like on the vessel in the sand when you knew I was hungry and needed clothes? I shouldn’t complain, but I can already hear young Djerah complain like he’s giving birth to a ram in full horn over it when he wakes up.

  It will float on dreams

  Be but first of many to

  One day sail the earthen sky…

  An ancestor of one to go

  Through windows of the wider places

  With no walls

  Where time as you perceive it

  Means naught.

  Really? These rattling pieces of rotten timber that hold water out like a winnowing basket? he thought, wondering if somehow there was a finer vessel hidden in an illusion. He let the “peasant” image fall from him as he settled on the ground near the cloak that had become a tent. Very well. We’ll see. I’d better dream up some magic then, the big man sat, unfastened his travel boots and lay back with a sigh. In the distant part of his thoughts, as he drifted, he heard a sultry voice chanting:

  “Ha-go-re! Akh-go-re Nejter Deka Nefer Sekht

  my name is sung ever-present

  though I am here.

  I fly to you, I come

  On dark but b
urning wings I walk on air

  Open the sky to me

  Ha-go-re Ta-te”

  Deka? Woman of the secret flame, where are you? I saw you. I tried to tell you I did not die.

  There was no response from her. The chant repeated on a loop. On dark but burning wings I walk on air. Open the sky to me …

  “Oh what in seventy devils is this? Is that supposed to be a boat? Where did you get this nasty thing?”

  Marai woke to what sounded exactly like…

  “Sheb… just stop whining. I know it looks bad, but… trust me.”

  “Djerah,” the stonecutter snapped back. “Sheb is my dead saba. You did it again.”

  “Well, you complain just like him. I already knew you would wail at me over it.” Marai grumbled, shaded his eyes against the rising sun and then sat. The early mist from the river was clearing. He heard coughing and occasional retching closer to the water where other revelers had either passed out or fallen asleep.

  “Look at them down there, true honor for our drunken king. Gods ease his way,” Djerah shrugged, inspecting the boat’s seams and mumbling. “It’ll sink. You know that, don’t you?” he pointed at a place where the roping was frayed and the pitch fill was cracking. “Where did you get it? Were you drunk?”

  Marai wasn’t about to talk of his spiritual journey or the communication with the Children that apparently brought the nameless donor of the boat in his direction.

  “No, but you’re right. I think it might take water after a while, but we can fix it as we go. It’s still going to be faster than walking.” And then again, you might be surprised how much faster, he added silently.

  Somewhere in the back of his thoughts he sensed ideas beginning to flood through him about how the boat could be repaired. I could even rebuild or outright transform it into something no man alive had seen on earth unless Yaweh-sin or Asher-ahna herself piloted it to them. Perhaps it will be like the vessel in the sand. No, maybe not.

  “You didn’t steal this pile of dung, did you?” Djerah continued to question.

  “A man was looking to get shed of it last night at the mourning revel these people were having.” Marai pulled the cloak and staff that had composed the makeshift tent down and began to gather anything else into their travel gear.

  “He stole it then,” Djerah suggested. “How much did you trade for it?”

  Marai snorted a little at the thought that young Djerah might have actually taken on his Saba Sheb’s soul. Every word the youth spoke came out of his mouth in a denying and terse scold, just the way Sheb used to scold him about nearly everything he said or did when they lived in the wilderness.

  Djerah was never like this in Little Kina Ahna, but he had a house of whining and scolding women to take him down a few notches every day he was there. Maybe he’ll become the man he’s supposed to be on this journey, if I don’t have to knock his head a few times myself.

  “The man gave it to me for the carry-off. You want to walk to Ta-Seti instead, or maybe trade all we have on a better boat?” he raised one brow, waited for Djerah to be unable to answer, then continued. “You carry the things and I’ll haul the boat past this inlet. Then, we’ll put it in the shallows and test it.”

  “At least there’s long and short oars,” Djerah’s arms flapped. “You’re really going to carry that?”

  Marai took the oars out, bound them with a strip of leather that was among the supplies and made a drag for the bags and the basket Wserkaf had left them.

  “You pull that and I’ll take care of this,” the big man took a deep breath and lifted the upside-down boat over his head. “Lead the way, I’ll follow,” he said. “I don’t want to step in a hole and make myself lame.” Marai knew he wouldn’t have that sort of trouble at all, because his senses would tell him where to place his feet but he did want the young man to learn a little more about silent travel by giving him work. In time, he inwardly knew, there would be so much more to teach him.

  Your son of heart the Children called him. He can be like a son to me now, I guess. Marai thought, remembering something the Children has whispered on the glowing vessel when they had first transformed him “those you sire, those you choose” they had told him. At that time, he didn’t have a child other than his tiny daughter who died with her mother so many years ago. He wanted to have a son by Naibe and eventually Ari and Deka too if he ever managed to extricate her from the spell of lust that bound her to her captor.

  I will have a son, a real son one day. You can see that can’t you? Marai questioned but knew the answer. They saw many choices and yet telling him the answer would never work. If he knew, he might accidentally take a step that would alter his chosen destiny. He felt an almost imperceptible chilliness in his heart and shivered a little, then adjusted the boat he held overhead.

  “No!” Akaru Metauthetep shouted and sat up on his bed. He had suddenly waked from a dream or a vision. He tucked his legs up in a cross-legged position on his bed, gripped his arms, and rocked back and forth in anguish.

  His chief wife rushed in from her adjoining room and got her servant to fetch the man’s grandson, Aped. Through slowly clearing eyes, the elder saw the tall young prince enter.

  “Akaru? Are you well?” the younger man bent forward to check his elder’s life signs. Akaru waved him away, then re-gripped his arms until he had calmed himself for a few more moments. His wife sat by him on his bed; her head on his shoulder. She patted at the base of the old man’s neck to console him.

  “Metau-te… you had a spirit visit you?” she asked. “Was it an evil one?”

  “I assure you, Xania, you should not worry over me.” Akaru looked up almost sheepishly. “You know how they speak to me and that sometimes their words are loud enough to shake me.”

  His grandson bent to assist, asking. “You want some tea, grandfather? Something to ease your dreaming?”

  Akaru nodded, but shook himself and spoke calmly for several moments while a servant brought him the warm medicinal mixture that was usually kept at the outer edge of a central brazier in the courtyard.

  “Listen carefully,” he began. “Something has changed my predictions. I felt it in my dream. I must go back to Qustul Amani in four days to check my observations again. There is a shift occurring. You may not feel it, but everything is happening so fast now. He is impatient, that one, and rightly so.”

  Aped and Xania stared at each other, uncomprehending.

  “Grandfather…” the young prince asked, “what are you talking about?”

  Akaru Metauthetep took the cup the servant brought and nodded gratefully.

  “Destiny, I suppose. It’s why I came here early. I thought I was to protect the women from the men in the army, and that’s good, but I sense my staying was now a mistake. I should have remained behind to meet the one who walks as a god. He is coming… on his way here now.”

  “General Maatkare thinks he is one,” Aped guessed quickly. “If another comes, I hope he comes to teach the first one a lesson. I spoke with Great One of his grandson’s interest in woman stealing; of his disrespect of the divine feminine energies. He acknowledged he would speak to him, and he stated he had already done this.”

  Akaru’s hand went up in protest.

  “No. One comes, and is not pleased with our visiting prince, but it’s more than that. Besides, I know the young general’s dark heart. I have always managed him well enough since he began to strut about. He knows he and his men do not take women from our families,” the elder knew his words were becoming increasingly hollow. The descendants of his father’s true bloodline wanted to rebel. He had seen all of these things in his dreams.

  “So who comes?” Aped asked, sitting on the floor while Akaru’s other wife came in and tended to the elder man. His own wives were awake, but the young man waved them away assuring them it was nothing and that he would come to bed soon enough.

  “The one who has been killed but did not die. The one I heard singing the night the lions came when I was a
boy.” Akaru answered quietly, turning his face downward into his cup of tea. “It’s the same giant man with hair like the moon you met in the market.” Akaru’s eyes sparkled as he waited for his grandson’s reaction.

  “We discussed him just the other night. I heard there was a usurper of the sacred ways who failed in his quest for knowledge and that Ra himself took issue… the Lady Sekhmet burnt him with her fire. Are you saying he’s the same one as the man in the market?”

  “I believe so. The Inspector told you that?” the elder paused, perplexed then added: “Well I suppose he would have to commit it to some kind of legend. Did you hear what became of the women who were with him?”

  “I didn’t. Great One was quite busy on my duty to him this time. Outside of his teachings, he busied himself in the palaces. It seems some private matters were keeping him there. The disciples know not to pry or be familiar when he is in such a state.”

  “True. I do remember those moods. My vision, though, was of the War Bull Montu roaring up the river. I then saw battles and fires. I’m not exactly sure how that connects, but I know it does.”

  Aped’s eyes widened. “Do you know anything of what it meant?”

  “Not really, but then I remembered the prince told me when I cast his prediction that he would not take our women, or even the lowliest of prisoners for sport this time. He boasted to me that he had brought women of high quality from Ineb Hedj and not one of them was his wife, as if his disrespect of her was supposed to impress me. He even stated he had one who had escaped from our own country and demanded to know whose daughter one called Deka might be.” Akaru sipped and finished his tea, nodded to his wives that he was in better spirits and that he would be in to let them bless him soon.

  “Pleasing One?” Aped questioned.