Opener of the Sky

by Mary R Woldering

  He stood by the opening of the tent and whispered, I am here. I have always been here within skin, within soul. I am an illusion in your heart.

  The sojourner quickly decided he would remove the prince’s weapons while he was frozen, secure him, and then separate out Deka and the Children of Stone as well as Wserkaf’s Wdjat. He would not kill the prince unless the man broke free of the spell and attacked him.

  As he took one last step toward the tent he noticed two big, dark men clad in simple shenti and cap. They approached, paused, and stared at him. They backed up, then crouched like startled animals.

  “For you time moves not,” Marai paraphrased, shocked into rattling out the words of his enchantment one more time.

  Neither man was affected by his words.

  Marai thought he heard a defensive growl coming from one of them, then recognized the men from a vision.

  These men were with Deka in my dream. He paused, but they began to draw their blades.

  Mutes, he sensed. Deka must have been teaching them hand talk… but why? And why do they not freeze like other men? They should understand my spirit voice.

  Mama Menhit their thoughts echoed in unison, but didn’t sound like thoughts he read from other people.

  Menhit? Lioness God, the slaughterer? Marai quickly analyzed what he’d heard coming from their thoughts. Do they think she is Menhit?

  “You see me. Do you hear me?” he asked, but the men continued to slowly creep up as they watched him. “Menhit. Mama Menhit,” he tried aloud, then Menhit. Mama Menhit. He tried with his thoughts, then swept his right hand toward the tent. The spell for the time alteration had just popped into his thoughts and had been more of a contemplation than a spell. He didn’t know how long it would last or if the prince would suddenly free himself and be able to come storming out unbound.

  I should have just jumped in there and stuck him. This was a bad idea.

  Protect, the pair repeated, but when the sojourner looked directly into their eyes he noticed something odd. He couldn’t quite place the blackness of their eyes, but in just an instant they changed and flashed gold before returning to a normal appearance. Each man moved in unison with the other as if they were trained to work together. Their ebony skin rippled a muscular purple in the afternoon light. In a fighting situation, they would be excellent, if they knew what they were doing at all.

  They aren’t warriors. They protect, but don’t speak or reason. Some kind of defect… and the eyes. He knew he had seen that glimmering transparent eye somewhere, but no answer entered his thoughts. He tried to communicate again.

  Deka. The woman’s name is Deka… the one with the prince. She is one of my wives, he felt an odd sort of calm steal over him and paused while the guards stood studying him. The two guards had no curiosity whatsoever that the rest of the camp was frozen. They remained focused on the sojourner as if he had suddenly become the only creature they were able to see.

  But I’m not so angry now. Why? If I stop time, it stops anger? He frowned, wondering if the Children of Stone had broken through his thoughts and stemmed his rage. Are there limits to the things they can help me do? Am I limited? he wondered, then sent a thought internally to his own Child Stone:

  You don’t understand. I need to be angry. I need everything I was given that morning when I took the lives of the thieves.

  The chorus of voices filtering through his stone whispered an all-too-quick response.

  Rage without thought is no longer advised.

  Before, you did not know your strength

  So it was taught you.

  We learned your regret of that day.

  Though death fills your thoughts,

  Do wise, yet unexpected things

  The woman Deka is the point of this meeting.

  The prince is not.

  Unexpected, Marai stepped back. He had to agree. If the women, and especially Deka, could be broken free of this man’s influence, such an act would be punishment enough. He would face returning to Ineb Hedj with his reputation brought under scrutiny and a scandal preceding him. It would be a longer lasting and much more effective punishment than killing him or physically beating him. Deka is there of her desire because she does not know I live. If I show her… Menhit. Lioness. He turned away from the tent flap for an instant, wondering what he would say to her when she did see him.

  I wonder if this prince has any idea what he might have inspired by getting her to taste the prisoner’s blood. If Naibe can be Ashera and I brought Bakha by my rage, she very well could be reflecting Menhit, the mother of Heka. I wonder if he knows, Marai shook his head and sent further thoughts to the grooms.

  You won’t harm me. I will not mistreat the one who is Deka. I want to see her, but I will be civil to her and to the prince… He sent the men a thought. As if his request had been magical, the men stood still, regarded each other for a moment, and then put away their swords and took off running.

  What? They shouldn’t have scattered just because I said I wasn’t going to hurt her. Something else going on here with these men. Marai moved around the two men who had been huddled outside the royal tent. He waved his hand in front of their frozen faces to see if his spell remained secure. As he did, he thought he sensed passion coming from the tent.

  Hmm. And if they are… Marai snickered like a naughty youth. He truly hoped he had spoiled their tryst when he stopped time. Somehow I don’t think I have, though. He shrugged and entered.

  Maatkare and Deka lay on the prince’s bed; their eyes gently closed and fluttering as if they dreamed. They must have been resting afterwards – the sweetest rest. He recalled almost painfully the way he and Naibe would lie exhausted in each other’s arms or the way Ari would toy with the hornlike locks of his hair after an afternoon of love. Marai drew closer for a moment, trying to get a better look at the sleeping couple, but he was distracted by the stack of bloodied but neatly folded clothing. Except for the rumpled bed linens beneath them, everything was neat and precisely placed. The prince’s arm was slung over Deka’s side and back; her leg draped over him.

  Kill him, Marai’s thoughts grumbled. Kill him and make her stop this foolishness and come with us. Then… No. Perhaps I should just wake her slightly and make her think I have entered her dreams. He raised one finger.

  Only you will know, sweet Deka. You will see that I live.

  Deka lazily turned her head and opened one eye. She sought the face of the prince, noticed he slept, then looked up into Marai’s face. Her eye widened in fear when she realized she couldn’t move.

  I’m here, sweet Deka. The big man sent his thoughts into her stone, knowing there would be no barrier. She would hear him clearly. I’m no dream this time; I’m no ghost in the well.

  He saw her struggle; her speechless mouth formed the word ‘Raem’ as if she asked for his help.

  I know you believed me dead and you were looking for a way to come to Ta-Seti, but you’re here. You did it now, after trying so hard.

  She struggled again but only moved her head the tiniest bit. Her Child Stone emerged in self-defense.

  Shhhh, Marai put his fingers to his lips and turned away to leave, but then turned back unable to resist a slight scold.

  You know what you did was wrong; to lose yourself for a man. No woman who knows her own power has to do that. You knew your strength. Your Ta-te didn’t take that from you, but this one here will try.

  “W…” her lips asked why as her power over Marai’s utterance grew stronger. He knew she would gain control of herself in moments and be able to free Maatkare.

  “Dream.” he whispered a lie aloud. “A powerful dream, nothing more,” and left the tent, but chuckled to himself. And His Highness is going to be pretty mad once she gets him loose.

  The sensation of Djerah’s suffering assaulted him the moment he stepped toward the women’s tent. Marai knew the young man’s life was fading beyond any chance of a cure, so he quickly sent him encouragement.

  I am here, Dj
erah, cling a little longer to your life. Allow me the moment to try.

  Behind him, a din of alarm rose from the royal tent.

  “But Raem, his ghost is here… out of my dream. I know what I saw.”

  “Here. Woman, stand still to me.”

  Quiet followed. Then:

  “Your Ntr stone has risen. Something is working a spell on you. Let me speak over it.”

  Marai froze and turned back. He knew two things: Prince Maatkare was going to use the control utterance to get Deka to stop yammering about visions. If he did, the pain of the psychic assault might affect his time altering spell. He would have to face the prince before he saw Djerah. Marai placed the back of his hand against his own stone, shut his eyes and concentrated as he sensed:

  Eeeen Nauuu…

  Marai felt the impact of the words prickle through the stone in his brow. He hurried to the dais and sat at the foot of the brick platform and listened to Deka suffer in protest, reacting to the power of the incantation.

  “Shhh. There. Easy, I’m done. But you have to tell me now, Nefira, now…”

  “I couldn’t move in my dream. I couldn’t wake up.”

  Marai heard whimpering and his gentle reassurance go on for a while. Certain time was still frozen outside the tent, he decided to release the rest of the camp except for the women’s tent.

  “As it was before the storm,” Marai breathed. “None will think my presence is out of place or strange… but Djerah, Ari, and Naibe are held still in their place.”

  The mysterious grooms returned from wherever they had gone. All in them encampment began to bustle around with their tasks. Some voices exclaimed:

  “What was that?”

  “Wasn’t there a storm coming a moment ago?”

  “What happened? I don’t see anything, do you?”

  “No, it happened. See the grass over there bent flat?”

  More cursing and shuffling sounded in the tent.

  Marai wasn’t interested in the particulars of the conversation, but he had begun to feel highly amused at the chaos his spell had caused. This time, so far, the Children of Stone were right. He enjoyed making a man who felt powerful and in control of everything in his world suddenly find something had escaped him. It would be fun to watch him squirm.

  In a few moments, the prince emerged with Deka on his arm. She froze, and stumbled on weak knees.

  “Oh, no…” she gasped. “Not…”

  Maatkare’s eyes widened, first in disbelief and then in a peculiar sort of mirth. He loosed Deka’s arm for a moment and raised a hand to dispel any lingering illusion before him. Marai winced in distaste as he felt the prickling sensation on his arm and leg again and blocked it.

  “You dare enter my space, uninvited?” the prince asked. “Are you mad?”

  “Well I am not happy, but…” Marai waved his fingertips and the swirl of the wind whooshed lightly in the palm of his right hand. He almost laughed at the tiny leftover from the swirl of dust he caused.

  Maatkare stared, carefully stripping his face of any surprised expression. Fully understanding that the image of Marai was no ghost or illusion, the prince scooped Deka up into one arm and towed her up to the dais. After they both stepped up onto the platform, he gave her a peck on the tip of her nose and sat her quietly in the folding chair next to his own.

  “You may stay seated, but you will remain below me,” he nonchalantly added, then turned his back for a moment.

  Marai smiled out of the corner of his mouth as he recalled the trained courtesy and charm that all royal sons extended. The back turning was designed to show any guest that he had no fear of being jumped. After a moment, he turned to face the sojourner again and sat. Marai sensed the prince’s thoughts going to Deka, who had quickly retreated into stunned and quiet reserve. No need for worry, Nefira. I’ll take care of this, then we’ll talk.

  Her downcast eyes darted side to side. They told Marai everything about her tale of confusion and humiliation.

  “So, Marai bin Ahu is it?” the prince began, the look of irritation breaking through his nonchalant expression. “You’ve come far. From the Land that Loves Silence, I see.” He paused for effect, letting his unruffled response sink in. Marai knew the prince was doing everything he could to act as if he had actually expected this visit, but his anxiety showed ever so slightly when his left hand strayed to Deka’s fingertips to calm and reassure her.

  “It does seem I went there, stayed some moons, and came back. It wasn’t pleasant.” Marai fought off the urge to swat the crooked smirk off of the prince’s face. He remembered the agony of the Sweet Horizon mixture he had swallowed. It had been intended to end him, but put him into a deep sleep filled with prophetic-yet-jumbled nightmares. His recovery had been even more painful.

  Marai found himself studying the man to determine what his strengths and weaknesses were, but more than that, what his appeal to Deka was. Medium color for a Kemet man; darker than Old Hordjedtef, though. He has an excellent build. He’d have to have one to be a master of weapons and an unquestioned leader of so many men. He’s vain about it, though. Likes to show off his skills on the field and in his bed. Marai laughed to himself, instantly feeling any shred of respect he might have had for the man vanish. Has an el most men might envy and he can lay a woman down like a god, but can he love one? I doubt his kind knows what that word even means. He shook his head. All that and still shorter than I am.

  “I guess I’m not so easily killed as some would like me to be,” Marai added aloud.

  He felt the ache of unrequited affection enter his stone and his heart when he stared at the woman seated beside the prince. Even so, he knew she had changed.

  Deka, he sent a quick thought. I told you I understood. Now, stop suffering.

  It is you, then? Truly you, out of heka? No ghost or dream? Her thoughts timidly returned, but she winced knowing Maatkare had pried into those thoughts.

  Marai kept his eyes down as if he didn’t notice anything change, but glanced up long enough to see the pulse of red at her brow before he looked back at the prince. She was in absolute torment.

  Deka. Easy, he consoled. The twitch in Maatkare’s shoulder showed the sojourner he would have to do more to partition his thoughts. The prince sensed him sending messages to the woman at his side and that knowledge made him act cagey.

  Marai sensed that all of the impulsivity and madness this Maatkare was rumored to have was very likely true. The only thing that separated the man from raving insanity was his cold intelligence and trained control. The training as a priest and as a warrior saved this one’s soul. If I can poke him enough, make him lose control, he can still be bested. He’ll get sloppy. He delays me seeing others, but the longer he does, the more I will learn him. My frozen time…

  I see you, he thought, and allowed the prince to hear his analysis. Your vanity shows in the way you come out and display your body, your fitness, and your wealth to me. All about you; brows plucked to look like wings of a descending hawk; your Khat embroidered with gold; your eyes that menace. You’ve worked so hard on your look.

  “So?” the prince cleared his throat. “You’re some sort of sorcerer then? You can return from the realm of death? I would like to know how you do that,” he inspected his pearly polished nails in a gesture that intimated disinterest.

  “I can’t tell you.”

  “Can’t, or won’t?” the prince asked.

  Marai knew his eyes had started to glimmer in an angry silver overlay that mimicked the color of his Child Stone. The prince was testing him and testing Deka at the same time.

  “I was gifted by what your people call the Ntr, your Highness,” Marai sat forward, elbows uncomfortably on his knees. “I haven’t had the time or inclination to question it. I just accept that I am no longer an ordinary man.”

  “Sometimes a gift comes with a hidden cost or a higher expectation,” Maatkare mused then began again. “I had heard of you when I was at home; that you were some gifted outlander
who had lived long but had not aged a bit. I didn’t question my esteemed grandfather as to why he thought to destroy you, or to even deal with you in the first place. As Great One, his decisions remain a mystery to all but himself and the great, wise Djehut.”

  Marai shifted again. The idea that parrying with this prince was a mistake had begun to creep into his thoughts again.

  “If you indeed know how to heal yourself from death and he finds this out, he will likely piss himself over it until he discovers your secret. Could it be that when all of the stones are in one place the answer will be revealed to whoever holds them? Grandfather told me you were instructed to deliver them to the priests. I am a fully elevated priest as well as a warrior, but I have decided while young I would pursue the warrior’s path. At this moment I have all but seven of them.”

  Maatkare frowned at the light of the low sun. He shaded his eyes from the rays that had found his face. With a simple gesture, he signaled for men who had discovered he was conducting another audience to move the chairs further under the awning and to fetch three cups of beer. “Does he actually know you live?” He turned to Deka whose eyes were still downcast. “He told me that you most certainly did not live. When we sensed you, we assumed it was a haunting and blocked your spirit’s access.”

  “I feel quite sure he knows I’m alive by now,” Marai looked down. And that blocking explains why I could not speak to my wives before this, you wretched little cur.

  “Look,” Marai was on his feet suddenly, ready to go to the tent where he sensed Ari, Naibe, and Djerah were still frozen. “I know you view me as your enemy, so let’s just stop this serpent-tongued chatter and let me get to my other wives and my man who’s been hurt while I can still save his life.”

  “Not… yet…” Maatkare commanded. “You sit down again while I learn the truth behind your man storming us earlier,” his hand grasped Deka’s hand and squeezed it a little, “which he learned was not smart the hard way.” Maatkare continued “…he and the fools following him. The women have spoken to me already that my cousin Wserkaf is a player in this adventure of yours.” His glance lowered, but Marai felt the sensation of constant thought-energy. “So interesting that such a disciplined man would turn against his own blood and family to tell you where your things were.” One of his eyebrows raised in a self-satisfied but inquisitive expression.