Transmuting light in to matter
At starborn level they came
Goddess and God walked on earth
In the body of fire and light.
Learning the passions of its many creatures
Creation subdividing from the starborn ones
became first gods born but now unable
to ascend, to return
Clothed in the substance of earth
they had become proud,
developed ego as they developed flesh
Children of the First ones
Had found a way
Lives ended as light and thought
encased in crystal,
Part fallen stars,
Part risen stones…
They watch
Waiting, extending love
It is time for the second ones to gather the remnants
of what went before
Passion is a seed of greatness.
Intellect the food of dreams
Love the synthesis of both
Strength and healing the key
…I am lonely and tired of waiting
Yet so reluctant that I cannot do
What must be done.
Will you dance with me?
Love me and distract me?
Walk with me?
The fact that he had slept very little since Marai arrived and even less since the sojourner had gone into the prince’s camp didn’t concern the Akaru too greatly. He knew the time for his preparations grew short and that he had so much left to do. During the day, he rested and often slipped in and out of trances. At night he woke from the power of his vivid dreams. He couldn’t trust his revelations to a scribe, so he wrote every thought that came to him in open verse.
It’s time. All the signs are falling into place. After all these years it’s finally falling into place, he thought. He wanted to take all of his writings to the old king’s funeral to show them to King Shepseskaf before the new year dawned. His most powerful thoughts had been about the solving of the mythical Children of Stone. Soon, with everything he knew, all would be answered.
He hadn’t been to Ineb Hedj in several years, and had relied on Aped to bring him news of the royal city. Now the old man looked forward to the trip to meet his grandson’s teacher, Prince Wserkaf, and perhaps see Old Hordjedtef himself before the Great One retired. If there was time outside the formalities, they might go over his findings, study the secret numbers, work on star calculations, and puzzle through mathematical mysteries.
At first, the elder Akaru reveled in the way he felt so alive and so radiantly happy. He thought of the way the big sojourner smiled despite his misery over his missing wives. He loved the way the man’s great heart spoke so openly and unguarded. He truly was without any sort of hidden motive.
Marai bin Ahu! His very name seems magical! The elder felt as if his own inner voices had always known the strange man’s name. They had sung it to him, even when he was a young boy.
Marai, Marai, Marai… his name is Marai… That was the name I heard that night the stars sang to me. A man walking as the sun; tall as the sky. There is so much more to learn from him, but why this year? The signs in the stars and in the weather had never lied to him.
I told young Maatkare to turn around and go home – quickly. I told him that his name favored badly, that even in the future when the divine woman was not so respected, it would be known as a woman’s name, but he didn’t listen to me. He insulted us with the rotten meat. Then, this Marai tells me the high king has died. After this, some foolish boys went with young Djerah the fledgling and now they have brought back the body of the youngest one killed as a message that the rest of them will not be coming home. They’ll be burnt in the field and their souls will be condemned, unless I can go out and do a ritual over the places where they died. The littlest one was only thirteen summers old! Too young to die a captive. Akaru mused over the recent events, filled with awe and yet sorrow. He knew what his people would demand, even if it would be a disaster.
The people of Qustul were peaceful farmers, fishers, and cattle herders. The young men play-fought and sparred among themselves, practicing for the battles that never came. They organized hunting parties in the leaner years. Despite what they thought about themselves, they weren’t seasoned warriors like Prince Maatkare’s men. Sending men to answer for the insults and now the poorly led battle would be as futile as throwing more lambs at a rising slaughter.
The Akaru realized, quite painfully, that every moment of his life was grinding to a point. Soon, too much would be required of him.
I’m an old man, proud of my peaceful life! After the heads of the households left, he sat on his observatory porch in the Amani Suph portion of Qustul. He had felt their anguish and their weeping when he spoke to them. Many times that morning, he wanted to sit and weep with them too.
I knew these boys. I blessed them and sang in great joy with their fathers. Such hope for their future. I healed their fevers. Now I have to go to the places where they were slain. I have to go into the prince’s camp to bless the spot where they were executed so they may rise up and not become roaming ghosts. It wasn’t supposed to have been this way, he lamented, then recalled part of his sermon:
He paced back and forth in front of the gathered assembly that morning.
“If we send a hundred fathers, uncles, and brothers against so many, how many more will die? If you take the head of this prince and send it to his king, will not three thousand arrive to take our heads and bleach our bones in the cruel eye of Atum, with no one left to ensure our resurrection?”
Prince Maatkare had sent a note with the martyred child.
The evil energy from the linen scroll sent with the youth’s body wanted to burn Akaru’s hands when he tried to read it.
“Hear a small part of his words,” he had begun, but the rabble of families talked over him and began to get up. They wanted to rush into the encampment, even if it meant certain death, despite his pleas. Akaru never liked using his calming spell to force his will on anyone. It had worked so poorly on Marai when he left that he almost thought it wouldn’t work on the heads of households gathered in front of him until he remembered Marai was no ordinary man. He put up his hand and let the gentle wafting breeze of the first created day lull the men until they turned to listen to him.
“I order you hear me. Decide your course once you do. I will not stop you, then,” he lowered his hand then held up the linen in the other.
“The men who came to die would not speak against each other and thus were heroic.”
It meant Akaru would be allowed to slink into the camp unharmed, to humbly do his ritual.
“Will you still slaughter yourselves over vengeance because he tempts you?” He asked, judging each upturned face. “If you can be patient this last time, there will be no more of him and his bloodthirsty ways.” He paused, checking the faces staring mutely back at him. “I will send my grandson Aped ahead of our delegation, with a writ to the king, and put this writ from the prince to place beside it. He will contemplate them both, and then as god will make his decision when I arrive for the burial. It is the sane thing to do,” his voice rang over the populace.
I saw their faces. They wanted permission to avenge. They wanted to go up to the Island of the Elephants to burn his boats to the water, even though I told them he would know who did it and turn back to take us with unimaginable brutality.
The elder stood on his observatory porch and paced anxiously. Even the shady comfort of the palm trees inside his walls couldn’t ease his worries.
I could blame young Djerah for this hot-headed mission, but this thing has been boiling so much longer. A blood feud has wanted to start for a long time because of this prince, even though I have gone out of my way to accommodate him. Maybe this is the storm I see in my vision. Maybe the stars predicted the rift that would divide the upper from the lower land once more, rather than predicting the return of something as unknowable as Apep or the wrath of Sebiu
meker.
After long moments of silent contemplation, he held up his hands and moved them around in a circle to form a ball of light. He hadn’t done this kind of heka since he was a child. If he sent the light to Marai and his party, he could get them to return and stay a safe distance. If Marai truly was the singer in the wilderness he would recognize the light, because with ones just like this one, he had led a ragged shepherd on a moonless night when his own very young body was wracked with fever.
The ball in his hands increased in light and became as visible as a small sun.
The singing. I couldn’t make it sing the way they sang to me, but it’s still important I make the statement, he thought and released the little sun-light orb. It danced away from his hands and toward the place where the prince was camped.
It’s still too tragic, Akaru meditated on his actions. Their blood, even though the punishment was justified, cries out for me to do something. My people demand it! the elder closed his eyes and he silently prayed after the departing orb:
Go far into the grass, young prince, his thoughts whispered. Go into the grass and don’t come back for a moon. Better yet, go back home another way, before the gods take notice of your evil heart. If you are foolish enough to come through here in a week or two, there will be a war and I will be unable to stop it.
I then say to my own, if the prince insists, let him pass through. The word in his heart he will remember is that we are men of peace but we will not be rolled over! We will await him in the next hunt, if the new king even sees fit to send him. This prince will know by that time to bring the entire army and the king as well. As of this hour, there is no Peace treaty of Amani Supf.
Akaru Sef palmed a small tablet that contained the image and seal of great king Khufu who had organized the treaty when he was a baby. He spat on the tablet and with a second gesture, snapped the tablet in half and whispered aloud: “The King Khufu has met a second death before the race of the Ta-Ntr, Ta-Seti.”
Akaru turned once more before he climbed down to enter his small palace. If his Highness fails to understand all I have done for him, I will just explain it to him the hard way. I’ll wait for the little light I have sent to bring me word of Marai and those with him. After that, if all this that I’ve dreamt comes to pass, I can hide here for several days. This time, I have to stay. The goddess begs me to act and then to stay the course.
The wind stirred the dust a little, whipping the length of his rope and lion cloak around him. A storm strengthened in the distance. Sultry, hot wind lifted from time to time as it moved closer. It searched for something or someone; inspecting everything it passed and then releasing it.
Akaru Sef rushed to the gates the moment his guards alerted him that they were being opened for Marai and his company. He hadn’t realized so much time had passed since the sad morning assembly. In better days, one of his wives would have come out to the observatory to find him. At other times, he would move among his people and visit, picking up news and gossip. Now he spent much of the day walking and thinking. When the boy’s body had been returned with the letter from the prince and the gold for the boy’s family, Akaru spent time with them, conducted the meeting with the heads of households and then told Xania, his chief wife, he needed to be alone until he felt better. In times of conflict, he withdrew to meditate for longer hours in the observatory which would one day be his burial and ascension chamber.
At last they are here! He pulled on the tall cedar door to the left, then beckoned everyone into his enclosed estate. Almost instantly, however, the old man noticed their arrival pointed out disarray instead of triumph. Despite his alarm, he greeted the women as they passed him through his gates and waited for Marai to carry Djerah inside.
“Welcome to my home, beautiful one,” he spoke to Naibe-Ellit first.
She shuffled forward less than gracefully, tired from her long walk across the countryside, but she magically mustered up enough strength to look pleasant.
Was there not a woman of our land with you? I don’t see her. Akaru’s thoughts echoed.
Naibe-Ellit bowed her head once, a sad expression in her large golden eyes, but the elder didn’t seem to notice. He had moved to Ariennu.
“And you must be Lady Ari, your hair black with red like the hide of Sutek but bright and curly, curly.” And under his greeting, his thoughts probed:
The woman of Ta-Seti… Where is she?
Ariennu looked away. She had heard and understood his thoughts but indicated, by her silence, that she didn’t want to talk about it. She turned to Marai, who carried an ashen-skinned, semi-conscious Djerah in his arms.
“He’s worse now, isn’t he?” her low voice reflected the somberness of their arrival.
“A little bit. We just need to get him out of the sun and see if he can take some clear water. Cover him in the dark so his Child Stone can work on him some more.” Then, in what seemed to be an afterthought, he looked back over his shoulder at Akaru’s shocked face and said: “Good to be back, Honored One.”
Akaru nodded and accepted the greeting, but noticed the young man’s nose and ears were bleeding. Once again he battled his misery over Maatkare and that prince’s usury of the treaty he had symbolically broken moments earlier.
Brave young fool! He was not supposed to strive yet, but now that he has, he has taken power from them too early… the elder grimaced. When he touched the young man’s healing injuries, he sensed Djerah had been well enough to start on foot for the first part of the journey. As the heat and his thirst grew, he had become too dizzy to stand upright. Even though he had been carried by Marai the last half of the journey, it hadn’t helped him much. Despite the setback, he had insisted on appearing strong enough to walk through the gates. He collapsed into Marai’s arms after two wobbly steps.
“Here. Put him on your cloak just in the shady part of the courtyard. I can take a closer look at him there,” Akaru Sef quickly gestured the two house servants who had come back from Buhen with him. “You men get your wives and put up a bed in the corridor behind the bathing area. It will be cooler there; quiet and moist.”
Marai carried Djerah, who mumbled something unintelligible, but as he did he bent down so that Ariennu could unfasten his travel cloak. When she spread the cloak out in the shade and put a bag under one end so Djerah’s head would be raised, Marai set him down and watched carefully as Ari hushed the stonecutter and settled by him. It was enough. Just her presence seemed to have a calming effect on him.
Akaru moved forward to look at him while Ari sat on her heels and turned to take a bowl of wine mixed with water from one of the servants. She dabbed the fresh oozing of blood to clean his still swollen face and shoulders, dribbled a little liquid onto his lips, then sat back satisfied that they moved a little.
“She wouldn’t come with us,” Marai soberly answered Akaru’s earlier silent question. He stretched; then drew himself up until the flat of his hand pressed the rafters. “She chose to stay with the prince,” he shook his head dismally then looked up at the support beam as if he might lift it for sport. “That, and it seems he has managed to plant a child in her belly.”
Akaru Sef’s head whipped around and his mouth gaped in horror.
“Huh?” he questioned. “That wasn’t…” he frowned, grew silent, and then reflected on what he had just heard. It wasn’t supposed to turn out this way, Akaru thought. In his dreams, he met the woman, learned what family she may have come from and together found a few relatives in the region. He sensed more about her now, and knew more of her reason for staying, but now he dreaded the truth on hearing this. He knew his prying about the reason had upset his guests as much as it bothered him.
The elder rose and turned to Marai, who clasped the younger of the women to his side. He knew she was exhausted, even though her smile charmed and her eyes seduced.
“I will show you where to stay,” he led both of them to a niche near the open place where servants were stringing the bed for the young man. It was a small d
ouble chamber. “See here?” his eyes twinkled. “Each side for two…” he turned to look back at Ari, whose wide shoulders slumped in fatigue “…or three, or however you like to sleep and not far from the bath.” He turned them around and moved them to the open courtyard to sit and enjoy some refreshment as the evening meal was prepared.
As soon as the big man moved the gear from his overland trek against the wall in the little room, he came out again, his arm slipped warmly around Naibe’s back. He paused and pressed her again; swayed gently, and giggled a little when he touched her belly.
“She truly is all love and passion,” Akaru beamed back at the young woman and then at Marai. “I hear you singing your song of long ago to the goddess when I look into her eyes,” he grinned. “You love like lions! Who among men could quit her bed if she chose them?” Naibe-Ellit blushed a little before she moved forward to kiss the elder’s brow, then returned to nuzzle Marai’s arm.
Akaru noticed the servants had finished, then motioned to Marai, who carefully lifted the young man and carried him to the bed. He didn’t stir, so the men checked him again. After that, Marai gathered Ariennu in his arm and returned to the open courtyard with her.
“I heard what you said about Baby One. You sound like every prophet up and down this cursed river, though, with your words all in fine verses. I’ll bet you don’t have anything so pretty for me,” Ari snorted, pouring the beer the servants had placed on the low dining tables into five cups while the Xania came out of the other side of the court. Ari sat heavily by Marai’s left arm and tipped her cup for a long, thirsty drink.
“You, lady? You want a reading? Well then…” Akaru shut his eyes and sighed, then quickly began to speak a customary praise. “Your treasure is in your warmth. You are a happy, laughing sunshiny day… a rainbow in the cloud. Courage is your passion and wisdom is your fire. You would not make a child long ago, because your life then was too hard. So now, are you not the wise mother of all the wandering children?”
He knew she had taken in the words and that they had cut her as well as healed her.
Opener of the Sky Page 41
