Stop. Do not touch or hit. Leave us alone, your work with him is done.
So beautiful. Oh… Maatkare gasped, sitting on his heels in rapture.
The young woman’s face glowed like the moon and her eyes had rolled back so that they, too, had gone white as pearls.
Ari’s own eyes snapped to her right then tore themselves away in self-defense as Naibe lifted the prince from the ground, then threw him aside as if he had been an unwanted scrap. She turned, extending her strength onto the limp form of the injured man in Ari’s arms. She glanced up for an instant, ready to defend herself against the prince as he uttered the control words, but saw him scrambling on all fours, panting and shaking his head in retreating rage.
He slowly got to his feet and dismissed the men who had gathered to watch the punishment, ignoring their shock that a mere ‘pretty creature’ could best him. As if everything had gone according to his plan, he showed no distress and barked at them to carry on with their various tasks.
Ari overheard him instruct a patrol group to go to the perimeter to scout for any remaining trouble; others busied themselves in dealing with the bodies of the dead traitors. None of that mattered. She and Naibe slowly tugged Djerah’s limp for to their tent. They knew Maatkare was doing everything he could to appear undisturbed as he walked among his men in measured steps. He reassured them and congratulated them, but was completely unsure of what he had just seen in Naibe’s sudden burst of strength.
The grooms started to go after Naibe for what she had done, but Maatkare held up his hand and shook his head that he would handle her later.
Deka stepped down from the dais to assist the prince, but as she did she noticed something glittering on the ground near the ladder fixture. She turned to the grooms for a moment to indicate they should quickly wash any blood and sweat off of her beloved, then quickly prepare a shallow bath with the best of oils and calming scents. That small task done, she moved back to the prince who was still muttering about the way the audience had ended.
“Heifer doesn’t know what she’s done!” Maatkare growled.
Deka attempted to embrace the top of his shoulders.
“Dare she use heka on me…” he turned toward the tent as the women pulled Djerah inside it and shouted after them.
“You two think you’re showing him pity? One would think you’d want mercy given to him. He’s dead anyway. You’ll see.” He panted, threw the punisher’s hand off of his fist and into the dirt, then started to push Deka away.
“It’s alright, beloved. You inspired awe in everyone. No one will dare wrong you again,” she turned and started to kiss the prince but was distracted by the glimmer near the ladder again. “Come, let me bathe you in a little while. Let Wise MaMa and Brown Eyes see to the man if they want to. He’s not important to us now,” she urged, caressing Maatkare’s tense shoulder and working her fingertips up the back of his sweating neck. She glanced around for his nemes. It had come off of his head as he scourged the prisoners, but none of his men had dared to pick it up. They knew to leave him alone until his rage dissipated and he asked for it.
“Let me get your adornment.” she affectionately patted his arm.
He nodded quietly, bowing his head; tired.
She turned and quickly went to pick up his nemes from the place where it had fallen near the brick pad, then stepped quietly to her left to pick up the shiny thing. A swarm of energy leapt up her arm with such a lightening-like force that she almost dropped it.
No, she thought, afraid to look at it. Oh no. She knew exactly what it was. The wave of energy grew and began to sweep all three of the women, bringing them instant peace, followed by their concern.
Ari and Naibe had just placed Djerah in the tent on Deka’s mat. They hurriedly pulled the sides of the tent down to keep the sunlight out, trying to block a visible reaction to the linking sensation. It was as if the Child Stones knew another of their own had joined them…
What? It can’t be, Ari’s thoughts rioted. That thing I knocked out of his mouth is one of the eight? I thought I knocked out a tooth when I hit him.
I know it’s a little one, MaMa. It has to be. I felt it jump through me when Deka touched it, Naibe’s face became almost ghostly, but how did this poor man come to have it?
Both women stared at the faintly gasping body on the mat between them.
“It’s alright Djee,” Naibe tried to speak. “He’s not going to hurt you anymore. We’re going to see if we can heal you.” Her eyes turned away because everything on the young man’s head and what had once been a sweet but angular face was reduced to red, black, broken, and swollen ruin. His nose and mouth had become little better than a ripped open cavity. She couldn’t look at him. His energy was so low when she tried to sense it, that she knew he was dying.
“We can help him, can’t we Ari?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” the elder woman whispered. “He looks bad… really bad.” She shut her eyes for a moment, trying to sense any kind of message from her Child Stone on how to proceed.
A whooshing sensation moved through her brow. She’d felt it before when she had been falling asleep on the crystalline vessel. The second time had been when she took the shape of a hawk and flew to see the king. To a lesser extent she felt it when she obscured herself from the view of others. “Let me think,” she added, feeling ill every time she tried to look at the young man’s wounds. “I’m really worried. I don’t know if I can. I just hope he has enough sense left to know we tried.”
At peace, beyond pain
The fledgling waits
At the edge of the
Storm coming
Long ago foretold,
The warning heeded not
So seen, so it will be.
A tiny voice whispered in the women’s thoughts.
“There. You heard that, too,” Ari looked at Naibe to see if she was too upset to be near the wounded man. “If we can feel their voices, so can Deka. She’ll tell the prince about it, I know she will.” Ari extended her hand to test a deep purpling lump with a gash across it that stretched from one ear to the crown of his head. It brought back a more than unpleasant memory. I took a hit like that from my own mother when she ran me off after her man raped me. Started my grown life not able to hear because of it… was cursed as a sorceress and demon bait by the very womb that birthed me.
Then, reflecting on the mystery of how Djerah could have been given the stone, she whispered: “I know – Inspector Wserkaf must have given it to him, but why would he do that? How could he even know of him, and why would he send him?”
“So, my feckless cousin is behind this.”
The women gasped, looked up and saw the prince standing just inside the tent opening. His arms were folded and his face glowered with disgust. He strode to Naibe in two steps, grabbed her arm and pulled at it fiercely.
“You come with me and tell me.” His voice, still hoarse from shouting at the prisoners and the exertion, quietly but firmly demanded.
Ari and Naibe knew he must have decided to spy on them while Deka and his grooms prepared his bath.
“No,” Naibe protested, freeing her arm from his grip. “Let me be. I’ll stay here, but we’ll both tell you everything we know about him.”
Maatkare paused as if he was surprised that a young woman he had so easily mastered at the start of this journey had just dared to speak up to him. He watched her sag back to the young man on the mat and gently lift his head so Ariennu could put some sheeting under it.
“Water,” Ariennu whispered out of the side of her mouth. “I need to see what I can do for him. There’s so much swelling.”
Maatkare stared dispassionately and blinked, still curious enough to look at the dark red froth emerging from the ruin that had once been a young man’s face.
“He doesn’t need water. He’s past that. He’d be at peace if you hadn’t stopped me. I told you mostly, Red. I know when the portals between worlds open.”
“And you didn�
�t have to take him apart like that, you bastard,” she grumbled. “You healed Naibe once, are you going to tell me you can’t do the same for Djee?”
“You watch your mouth. You’re mad, I can see that, so I’ll let it go if I hear what I want to hear from young honey here. I advise you to consider some better manners when you talk to me, or I can give you another treatment that won’t leave you crying for more.” Maatkare turned on his heel and went to the tent opening to call for good water and a towel. When he came back, he added, “besides, he’s too far into his Amenti. A healing now will only make him suffer longer.” He turned away, as if he didn’t want to continue looking at the result of his work.
Oh you look, damn you. You see what a monster you are, Ari’s thoughts hissed.
Enough, the prince glared. None of this had to happen. You know that, but you still blame me.
Naibe looked up. “I don’t know if Prince Wserkaf sent him,” she began. “I don’t know why he should even know his Highness.”
At that moment, while Naibe spoke with the prince, a gentle and sensuous voice whispered in Ariennu’s thoughts. It was a voice she had ached to hear just once more and now that she heard it, she bowed her head in regret because she knew she would never hear it again.
Ari. Sweet Ari.
Know I will be with you soon
Know me in the storm of your strong will
Whisper to me in the storm of your heart.
She wanted to think it was Marai’s voice telling her he was on the way to the encampment and that she would know him in the power of the storm, but she knew that was impossible. Maatkare would have to stretch her out on the ladder and kill her before she saw him again. At this point, she didn’t think he could bear to do that to her. He still enjoyed toying with her.
“This name ‘Djee’, you called him on accident, Red Sister. One of you can at least tell me about the name, can’t you?” he took the water, oil, and a fresh linen to Naibe.
“Djerah. His name is Djerah bin Esai, I think. None of us knew him very well. He was contracted to work the stone across the river from us so he stayed on that side most of the time. We knew his family… a wife and her widowed sisters – their seven children among them,” Naibe answered, accepting the jar of water and wetting the cloth with some of it.
“Bin Esai,” Maatkare set the jar of oil down beside Ariennu’s leg. He straightened up, paused and looked away again. “That’s Akkad style naming. He doesn’t look fresh out of the wilderness. More like a half-skin. Seems familiar, now that I think of it. I think he may have even come here in the troop roundup a few seasons ago before I was at full command. You really should let me give him passage. If he lives, he’ll have no life and no wits.” He shrugged as if he had now absolved himself of any wrongdoing.
Ariennu dabbed a little at the sucking place around Djerah’s mouth. She noticed he was still breathing in shallow little gasps. For an instant, she agreed.
Understand. Do it quick.
She remembered him whispering to her when she was about to hit him the first time. I don’t think he feels any pain, she thought to herself. He’s right. It would be easy to end him… a blessing.
“He’s a kinsman of our husband. The one called Marai who your ‘Great One’ had killed. I don’t know more about him, or even why he would know where we are or why he would wish to come,” Naibe spoke.
A keening moan rose from the bleeding lump of flesh. Three heads snapped to look, thinking this was going to be the instant his spirit left his body. Maatkare looked as if he was raising his hand to impart a final blessing, but then he showed the women a small, whitish crescent shaped stone.
“He had this on him. Nefira found it.” The prince shrugged, then turned to leave the tent. “I know what it is. When I put it with the ones I already have, perhaps it will sing the real truth to me. I was asked by my grandfather to find the rest. So that would make seven of these left now?”
Ariennu and Naibe exchanged quiet but distraught glances.
Seven. Fine, Ari thought to herself. And if this one somehow managed to come here with this poor baby, then goddess knows where they are.
CHAPTER 19: WITNESS
That Djerah had been captured and tortured was the only thing Marai allowed himself to contemplate. If he allowed other thoughts, he knew he would grow too enraged to continue his march toward the encampment. As he moved into the deep grass, he toyed once again with the idea of sending death through the air.
Too much, he thought. The men who followed young Djerah are all dead because he got mad at his faithless wife and instead of going out and getting drunk or getting in a few small time fights to spend his anger, he takes all of the hotheads he can find? He couldn’t wait. Damn this impatient blood of Ahu and our stubborn hearts. But damn my insisting on him coming in the first place so he wouldn’t be there to hurt her when he found out. Why should I have cared if he hurt or killed all of those silly women? Not any of the three were worth him. So he comes with me and still tries to get himself killed.
Marai visualized the elder’s parting thoughts: Akaru Metauthetep stood in the doorway of his Qustul temple. He had pushed back on Marai with some odd form of wind heka to keep him from leaving.
He said Djerah’s journey here was pre-ordained? No it was senseless. The old man didn’t have any idea of what to do about Prince Maatkare. He still holds out hope for the suph his elders crafted with long dead kings. Even his own people have lost respect for him over the years.
Don’t go, or not yet, he had said when it appeared the only intelligent thing to do was mount a force and cleanse the hunting ground where the prince was camped. That he might hurt the women or Djerah in the process was all that should have concerned him. Like Wserkaf, Akaru was torn between duty to gods, family, and country and the internal fire to abandon all of that in pursuit of a truer wisdom.
Both of these men knew I was on a journey of knowledge and that I was sent here by the Children of Stone to finish gathering the ancient wisdom tools Djedi had started collecting. It was so the Universe’s wisdom could be accurately taught. I learned that we were at a point in time when the truth was being altered or denied altogether. These men knew they had been chosen to help me find these things, but so many obstacles have clouded the path I’m on, that not one of the three of us knows what’s coming next. Human independence, stubbornness, time constraints, emotion. Our benefactors never thought… never had a concept of how complicated we creatures had become since the time of the First Ones, when the things they left us were scattered and hidden.
Marai shook his head and strode up into the pale gold rock of the hills. When he finished climbing hand over hand to the top of the ridge north of Maatkare’s camp, he turned and saw the smoke of distant watch fires. Soon, he began to notice bloodstains, spent arrows, and dropped weapons; evidence of a lengthy and hard battle. Further away, vultures circled. The wind eddied a little, wafting the earliest odor of death.
Dozens of fools came out with him and dozens were no match for this prince’s trained force. Cut them all down like it was a good day hunting. No bodies though. The men must have pulled them down to the camp for counting and putting fire to them. He ducked down behind a large rock then looked carefully into the distance. His eyes sharpened, picking a central line to correspond vertically the horizon, then hyper-focusing his vision at the crosspoint. As he visualized more lines forming, the spaces between them sharpened and enlarged. The more lines he visualized the sharper the image became, as if he was forming a flower of life and compartmentalizing every detail he saw so that it magnified and taught him all of the details he sought.
Near the camp, men were stacking bodies and sawing off left hands to pack in salt before lighting the remains. A drum of hands with the characters stating the details of the struggle would be taken home; an efficient way of counting the defeated. More bodies were being brought in from below. He knew the only ones who had been taken prisoner were those still able to walk. The helpless ones
had been slaughtered where they lay.
Djerah’s not among these poor devils, but I know he’s not good. This prince didn’t learn much from him, but Deka found the little Yah stone. They know it’s one of the missing eight. Hordjedtef schooled his princeling on the control words so he can handle them with ease. He has Deka for anything else. Does she even know how much he is using her?
Marai wondered what had become of the hard-shelled but fragile creature he had once known. When he met her, she was in her lowest form; a scrawny and half-mad mute. She perched on his lap and offered herself to him as a matter of course. Horrified, because he had just killed thirty men with magically assisted strength he didn’t understand, he had refused. Once again, when she first woke in the Children’s crystalline pod, she offered herself to him again, but he shunned her for different reasons. She was gloriously beautiful, but he had been alone for so long that he was desperately afraid his manhood would fail her. From that moment on, she became the one who pushed him away. She became obsessed with finding the mysterious Ta-Te, a lover from her past who might have been a god. She had wanted him to be Ta-Te, but Marai denied he was, or had ever been, such a creature. Now she had sought this entity from another source: Prince Maatkare.
She was so close to solving her ancient hurts before I left; of seeing what dark force haunted her from before she was crippled. He sensed, in horrified flashes, the images of her eagerly lapping the blood from the prince’s hands.
He made her take a blood bond? Why? Has she drawn the darkness she sought into herself until she becomes an eater of the dead - a bloodthirsty demon-woman like Ereshkigal? he asked himself. If that’s so, I need to abandon this slow and patient path and just be there. He couldn’t think about anything more. Leaping to his feet, he raised his hands to the sky. Slowly, the lowing noise of a forlorn bull filled his being and the dust at his feet began to swirl.
Opener of the Sky Page 28
