Opener of the Sky

by Mary R Woldering

  “That would make as much sense as anything else,” Marai shrugged. “I just thought we were all supposed to…” sadness filtered over him again.

  “Then she’ll be back,” Naibe affirmed. “It works out. I was certain you were dead, my love, and the fates returned you. Djerah was dead and now…”

  A sound came from Deka’s old mat where Djerah lay. Three pairs of eyes snapped down at him.

  “Let’s just go.” Djerah spoke just above a whisper. He struggled to raise himself up on his elbows.

  “Oh, look at you, handsome man…” Ariennu instantly handed the wdjat to the sojourner, shocked at the young man’s weakness even though he tried to sit. She looked up at Marai and solemnly shook her head.

  There’s no way, Marai. Moving him now will kill him for good this time. D’you think the Children could…

  Marai knelt by the young man and checked his face. He knew what Ari was asking. ‘Could the Children work a different outcome?’

  No and no. he shook his head. Nothing makes sense except leaving as soon as possible. You know that in your heart, his eyes confided.

  The edges of the black and red areas on Djerah’s face had begun to turn green and yellow. They were still badly disfigured and fluids oozed from the corners of his eyes and out of one nostril. His nose had emerged from some of the swelling but it looked different; no longer as wide as it had been. His eyes glimmered a deep metallic bluish color with the dark centers shifting and contracting unevenly as if they were going through a routine of adjustments. His hair had thinned and some of his brownish black curls were shedding on the surface of the linen where his head had rested.

  Wasn’t the shape it was last night… or the one he came with. More like mine, not so much Kemet. Ari’s right. It’s too soon. He ought to be sleeping undisturbed. Marai set his lips and thought about the hot journey overland back to Amani Suph Qustul. Whether the young man was put on a drag or whether he was carried, it would be dangerous. He wondered if somehow another stronger healing session could take place before they had to move.

  “Just go. Get ready, Marai. I’ll rest at the lion master’s. I can feel… can feel…” the young man faded and sagged to the mat, clearly weaker from his attempt to communicate.

  “I’ll read his thoughts,” Naibe had joined Marai and Ariennu. Her hand extended to the young man’s brow as if her touch could still him. “His stone has found out something. It’s told him we have to go. What you said about the dead princess upset Maatkare, Ari.” Her eyes sought Marai’s next, then fell, “and now he knows about poor Menkaure Khaket, too.”

  Marai already knew they would have to move Djerah or deal with the prince sending the regiment after them. The longer the prince thought about letting them go, the more likely he would perceive his men thinking he had been defeated. When that thought combined with the sense that Akaru’s men who would want revenge for the killing of the boys who had come with Djerah and the thought of his own future after the death of the king, he would feel much less in control of his life. He would predictably lash out at them in some way if they were still nearby.

  Seek shelter by the water

  But first under a hill

  Then many circuits of your sun-star

  In the King’s peace

  Healing proceeds

  Djerah opened one eye again. He lifted his hand weakly and touched his brow to examine the edges of the puffy mound around his newly settling Child Stone.

  “I think I can go,” he whispered again, but his voice sounded weaker.

  “Let me go talk to his Highness,” Ari suggested, looking at the still flap of the tent. She heard men moving around outside.

  As if he had heard a silent signal, the tall guard stuck his head through the flap. A haughty look spread over his face.

  “What do you want?” Ari snapped.

  “Checking to see if you are getting your things together, ka’t.” He used the common term for her, when earlier the worst he had ever voiced was a terse ‘woman’. “His Highness wants an afternoon foray. You should at least try to give him some sport…” he chortled.

  That implied their worries had been correct. He had openly considered giving them chase, perhaps just to finish Djerah and Marai, once they had been gone for some moments.

  “Oh we are getting ready, but if it had been in my power our new brother would have brought you down, and not your partner. He was always the one who was nicer to me… and better with my body than you ever were… tiny el,” she spat.

  “I’m going to enjoy riding you with my spear when I catch up to you…” The man took a step to slap her, but Marai waved him away.

  Ari. Walk away. Don’t say anything to him, Marai projected his thoughts as the man left, then nodded to Naibe. “How long will it take to get everything rounded up?”

  “We have our baskets. That’s all. Deka’s things are already in the other tent, except for her mat where Djee is lying. Maybe we’ll make a drag with it for the parts that aren’t so rocky.” Naibe looked around the area to see if anything had been kicked into the far corners when the men fought. “He isn’t setting an escape trap for us, is he?” her eyes widened as she gathered anything she saw and plopped it in any available basket. Things could be sorted later.

  Marai remained at Djerah’s side. He touched and continued breathing out healing energy on the various bruised and wounded places, in hopes of speeding up the process a little. He sensed re-doing a healing with the Children of Stone would be too much for the young man to tolerate in his weakened state. His actions now were to simply strengthen him for the journey.

  “Prince Maatkare’s fight is with me; pure and simple. He knows I almost beat him. He’s tough though, and has some mighty skills… but he’s not used to anything other than winning. He’d likely fight without honor if he felt there was an advantage to it,” Marai looked Naibe in the eyes when she passed by him, then reached up to grasp her hand in a comforting gesture. “He just might be giving us time to move and then planning to tighten the circle and jump us once no help can come to us. I don’t think he would follow us into Qustul Amani though… even fully armed. Metauthetep is seen as a holy man up and down the river. His warriors will be mad enough. He wouldn’t be advised to lance that boil.”

  “I won’t die. Won’t risk…” Djerah’s voice weakly trailed. His hand raised to beckon Marai closer.

  Can you send a thought? Marai silently asked. It should be easier for you than it was before you got yourself hurt like this. Try not to speak aloud until you are stronger.

  “They told me…” he spoke softly, as if he hadn’t heard the big man. “I must go before the hot day. Rest under a hill. There’s a cave there where we were waiting. I remember that now,” his bandaged head fell back to the padding as if that many words had been more than he could bear.

  He is stronger, Marai realized. Child Stone is working fast, but it’s doing strange things to him.

  “You rest. I’ll put you on the sled with the baskets. When we get out of the grass to the hill, I’ll carry you.” He patted the young man’s shoulder and turned to see if he could tighten the bundles the women were making.

  The Children of Stone are opening something new, he thought. Maybe Deka stays, then. Maybe she comes later. Don’t know… Marai knew that, but he couldn’t shake the thought that something had still gone very wrong. Even the Children, he thought, must have taken a step back in wonder of these new lotus petals that have suddenly fallen away.

  Prince Maatkare made certain Deka stayed in the tent while a heavy guard followed Marai, Djerah, and the women away from the camp. The five sojourners moved quietly into the grass before the sun was at its highest point. The prince watched her fidget, sigh, and once or twice he thought she might get up and chase after them. As they left the camp, he lay on his bed deep in thought, but didn’t beckon to the Ta-Seti woman. Instead, he let her pace back and forth until his guard came back without them and stated the sojourners had passed the line of trees
at the base of the hills he called the North Ridge.

  Unless she can truly fly, she won’t catch up to them now, he mused.

  For a long time, he left her standing by the tent flap. After a while, he motioned for her to come to him. She turned, but when she did he noticed the quiet pain in her eyes.

  “You’ve done the right thing. I’m proud of you, Nefira,” his smile was sly and tinged with just the right amount of seduction.

  She came to the bed and reached down to take his extended hand.

  He held it for a moment, then tugged her closer. Bringing her hand to his lips, he kissed her knuckles tenderly. “You are so strong and brave; as a goddess should be…” he chuckled, pleased. “Now sit, rest your heart. When you have rested, go forth with me among the men as my esteemed companion.”

  She gingerly sat, then lay curled against his chest; her fingers spread out over it. For long moments, she smoothed his hard, deep muscles, but he said nothing. Whenever she started to speak, he hushed her with silent words, but on another level he grew increasingly worried about the things the man Marai had told him. Even though it was before the heat of the day, the men dropped the former women’s tent and re-assembled it into a palatial extension with all of the accompanying racket of post hammering, rope strapping, shouting, and occasional laughs peppered with curses. He needed her to sleep so he could sort things out.

  I sense your troubled heart, Nefira… your heavy choice. Een saphara, my sweetness, een saphara. All the layers of your heart must rest: ReKaBaSa all. He gently kissed her hands and waved his fingers over her until she fell into an exhausted sleep. Good. Sleep now.

  He eased from beneath the woman, rose, and quietly drew a cool linen up over her shoulders. After he made sure the box of stones were stowed safely under the bed, he sauntered across the dark-but-warm interior of the tent, dipped up a cup of beer, and looked out to see if the extra tent room was being constructed properly. Nodding his approval, he sat in his camp chair to rest and think before going out to survey the hills. Other men would be returning soon from with news of any further trouble and a report on the counting of the dead from yesterday’s failed coup. In the meantime, he could think about his future.

  So Red Sister and young Naibe think my grandfather hastened the king’s death? Wonder if anyone else suspects? Wse wouldn’t dare! He’s too loyal and he has too much to lose as rising Great One. Red Ari only thinks she heard me drunk-talking about Princess Meryt and she herself was almost laid out full that night, as I recall. No one can prove such a thing. The dream I had shows me it was a game gone wrong, anyway. Everyone in the Hedj knows my temper well enough and if they think hard about it they can just as easily remember how that ka-reen came to disrespect me and try my patience. He sipped his beer, pulled a little on his lower lip, and continued to think about how this man Marai suddenly being alive and the spirit skills the women had demonstrated might have the potential of up-ending his plans.

  A temper I have, but, by the gods, people listen to me. When they don’t… Why am I troubling myself? Meryt’s been dead nearly seven years, he mused. Now Menkaure has joined her, and what the dead have to say is only open to the best of interpretation. Maatkare raised a brow, knowing he certainly had enough wealth to ensure good readings.

  The king loved me once, because he knew I could put a fire back in his line and quench the one that burned in his daughter’s belly at the same time. His own bodily son wasn’t up to the task, before he died. And Shepseskaf, the concubine’s son, always hid behind Bunefer and Khen’s skirts. If this tale gets another round of telling and more believers, I’ll be lucky if I even get Nekhen when the old man dies, or worse the title will go to my aunt’s useless sons.

  Grandfather Dede knew all of this. It’s very likely some crazed fable from Wse’s wife again. What did grandfather have to gain in ending the king? His own comeuppance? Madness… he crept to the bed, opened the box of stones, and found the small green stone he had handled before, then held it up to the light that streamed through the vent at the top of the tent.

  What will you tell me if I ask you and your brothers something new? Will you sing to me of Nefira? Should I have turned her out with the rest, or does me holding her and the rest of you as well respected hostages insure for my greater future?

  Two sons, a daughter…

  More disguised as other’s children

  Maatkare pondered the sound of a small voice that had not come from the stone, as he expected it might. The green stone lay as if soulless in the palm of his hand. Deka slept soundly on his bed. He knew it couldn’t have been her dream voice. His hand went up in a protective gesture.

  I dispel you, spirit, he whispered into the air. Don’t pollute my thinking. He didn’t know what had spoken, but it manifested as a male and brought up another point. He did have children, claimed and unclaimed.

  Nefira Deka carries my child too. Has even named it Ameny. She says it’s a son who will surpass even my own deeds. I would love to see that indeed when I look down from my Boat of Stars one day. I have to think about placing this Ameny ahead of my young Senurepet, Sadeh’s boy. Not a bad child… but she spoils both him, his sister Tena-maat, and little Raemetre rotten. She is a commoner. Nefira claims divinity, if we locate her family. It will still be hard any way around if I have no true claim to the throne. He glanced at Deka, tracing a symbol of pleasure in the air so she would know he wanted her to dream of him, when in truth, his thoughts were leagues away.

  Wse’s wife has the marriage pact with Shepseskaf. If something were to happen to him… he paused, suddenly enlightened. Oh, well then… that’s a plan. Maatkare envisioned a naughty consummation of that marriage. I would see old Princess Khen scream in joy of me just to spite the vanity of her dear, but straying Wserkaf. He snickered almost loudly enough to wake Deka. And then here are such rich fantasies that I giggle like a dim-witted maid catching her superiors in the rut. I need clarity.

  Maatkare crouched by the bed again and took the box that held the rest of the stones out from under it. He went to the front of the tent where there was a little more light, then sat cross-legged on the soft skin rug. As soon as he opened it, he felt Deka move to his side and gently whisper ethereal encouragement.

  Beloved Raem… learn from these, her voice lulled and enchanted him sweetly.

  He looked back at the bed, but saw she lay asleep in her spellbound nap. Even though she slept, her thoughts and memories were there in spirit, ready to join his vision. As he concentrated on the emptiness needed for clear vision, he saw her wandering in a grey mist, lost in her own dream as if she waited for him.

  See me. See the goddess in me. Do you, mere man, bend your knee? She requested.

  He shook himself and stared at the glimmering box of stones, caught between being taken aback and mildly insulted, but didn’t answer the spirit voice.

  She won’t start putting on airs just because I chose her… he returned to his meditation.

  Her wandering human form faded from his vision, then began to transform into some kind of bird…

  Vulture, Maatkare whispered to himself, but the thought of her having anything to do with the goddess Mut, panicked him until his zeal for learning took over. As his vision continued, her spirit flanked him like his twin. She was lion to his wolf, like Sekhmet, or the Flame of Menhit, who danced for the First Ones. Ta-Seti-ta-Netjer. When he spoke the words, magic engulfed her. Powerful, his thoughts whispered as he brought to his memory their first night together.

  I thought to take you quickly in the alley, leave you when I was done, but your body cried for me to go slow. I came to you as a wolf, attacking in the night, yet something about you made me like a docile pup, lapping your feet and begging for the sweet. He had wakened something in her and now she was returning the favor by waking him up.

  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 burning wings I walk on air

  Open the sky to me

  Ha-go-re Ta-te

  They were flying, hand in hand. Her burning breath wreaked havoc on the earth.

  I bear the standard of war before you, he whispered as if it was a prayer. I rain my arrows down on the unrepentant… I am the slayer… to your Avenger… You, as high goddess promote me as king. He fell to one side, gasping and faint from the dizzying thought of it.

  “Raem? Are you well? You shouted in a dream.” Deka was awake. She hustled to him in his chair, then nestled close to him and drew her knees up to her chin so sweetly, as if she was still a little girl. He looked at her, but suddenly saw a woman whose youth had been stolen far too long ago. The red and black shadows that had filled the tent slowly dissipated as his trance vision cleared.

  She helped him sit, then showed him that the stones in the box had begun to glow red like a pool of luminous blood. Passing her slim cinnamon-colored hands over them, she turned her palms up in a receptive gesture.

  Your face. Maatkare didn’t notice her hands. He saw the way she smiled demurely as the fire of the stones ascended to light her face in a rosy glow, then shot a brilliant blue-turquoise shadow in hollows of her cheeks. Her hair fanned out like a dark cloud in an imaginary wind, glinting blood-red lights at the tips of its blackness.

  “I have given all to you, my Wepwawet, for you have opened the way for me. Together we will open the sky and together we will ascend on the light to be part of the eternities,” she spoke, but her voice sounded like the chorus of a thousand united in rustling whispers to the prince. Maatkare felt the blood draining from his head in horror and delight and his heart felt as if it had dissolved into steam before he collapsed in her arms.

  CHAPTER 29: ONE IS MISSING

  They watch

  Waiting, extending love

  Those who were here before