Opener of the Sky

by Mary R Woldering

  Should I thank you, woman, or should I curse the day I first saw you? he quietly bent to kiss her cheek. That broke his spell, and she startled because it wasn’t like him to show unprovoked tenderness. “The men are spoiling for one last thing,” he announced. “Back by dark this time. I want to test my new skills. No madness or fighting with devils this time.”

  Deka’s eyes flew open and she spoke without even thinking of what she said.

  “But, you need to take me,” she jumped up and began to tie up her hair. Maatkare took a step, folded his arms and studied her. He was a little shocked as she bravely found one of his kilts to wrap around her hips so she could run without tripping on a long skirt.

  “And I should take you, because…” he started, but saw the flicker of fire starting in her eyes. He wanted to laugh and to give her a little tap on the face to return her wits to her but at this point he merely shook his head.

  Two of us with god-stones, eh? he thought, and already I am staring at you like competition.

  “Your men told you I can shoot and I can run. I know you saw me draw a war bow in a dream,” she moved close to him. “I want to prove it to you today… then I won’t ask again, until the child is born,” she trailed him into his segment of the tent. Her eyes focused on a large quiver of arrows.

  “Nefira Deka, my Sekht…” he tugged at her arm and she almost shrugged him away. “You want to run with me so badly? No,” he paused, shaking his head. “My women don’t run with me. They wait for my return.”

  “Am I just that, then? One of your women?”

  The prince frowned. The Ta-Seti woman had been quiet and had seldom spoken to him above a seductive whisper or a tart request for him to stand up to someone at the most. This was different and spirited. It was what he might expect from Red Sister Ari, but not Nefira.

  “You are just that. One of many. You have my child in you, but do see it doesn’t make you proud of yourself.” He helped her tighten the straps on the quiver until it fit, then handed her the spare bow. “I just didn’t expect you to speak up to me as if you know me… yet.” He eyed her up and down and thought of the images of ancient goddesses, but tried to keep the urge to take her in his arms once more at bay. He paced as she stood near him, suddenly calm and humble – the old Deka Nefira.

  “Perhaps,” her voice grew quiet and restrained as it had always be en. “Perhaps I’ve allowed myself to become… excited.”

  Maatkare knew he had hurt her. On any other day it wouldn’t have mattered. His own eyes cast down and a feeling of blankness filtered over him. She shouldn’t have said anything to me, he thought. This is too soon. It’s making me feel… but then he stopped. Going to the tent flap, he looked out for a moment to see if his morning repast was being brought.

  “One rule,” he turned and took her by the hand, drawing her along with him outside to the dais where they would eat. “You stay with me. You keep up. You keep back. No mistakes.”

  CHAPTER 36: PEACE OF AMANI

  For a short while that morning, Marai thought it would be good to stay in Qustul Amani for a few more weeks. With the majority of the people of Qustul gone to the new city or up to Buhen, it was peaceful here. He thought he might offer to watch over the Old town while The Akaru and his wives went north for the funeral.

  Marai knew they needed to go to the funeral too, however. If Deka hadn’t given up on her prince by that time, he and Djerah would find ways of speeding up a boat with their combined skills and perhaps arrive with Naibe and Ari at the same time everyone else reached the white wall by traditional method.

  For now, Marai watched Djerah move around the villa as if he was lost in thought. A week had passed since the young man’s wounds had healed, and the changes in his physical form had begun to accelerate. He had begun to observe his surroundings and conduct an inner dialog with his Yah stone. In that manner, he trained himself to use his new skills.

  Marai remembered his own early lessons had been very different. They had come more as a series of shocks: his looks, the magically appearing food and clothing on the vessel buried in the sand, the orbs that guided him, the fight with the thieves and the way he met the women. Djerah was learning differently, as if the Children of Stone had paid attention to the way wisdom was taught in the mystery schools.

  The young man looked at and examined everything as if he had never truly seen it in his former life as a stonecutter or basketmaker. He stood reveling in the sound the leaves on the trees made as the wind moved through them or the reflection of the sun as it made star patterns on ripples of water. Sometimes, he took one of the twelve remaining Child Stones out of the bag Marai had given him to examine it more closely.

  That night, as everyone still staying at Akaru’s palace in Qustul Amani sat around low stone tables in the torchlit plaza and enjoyed their evening meal and conversation, Djerah suddenly held up the wdjat and spoke as if he had been talking in the sleep of deep reflection.

  “It faces one way for HoRa and if you turn it over, it stands for Djehuti; one vision, one truth?”

  “Wserkaf used it that way, why do you ask?” Marai nodded, pausing in his gentle stroking of Naibe’s upper back.

  “Well,” the young man hesitated, “because he missed something only a stonecutter would notice, unless he just never told you about it.” He showed the group a barely visible rough edge on one side of the crystalline roundel. “Anyone who’s worked in stone can tell you this has been cut. Then it’s had the edge softened or polished down so it looks like it was made of just one piece. Once there was another. Maybe it was even attached to it, like a clamshell,” he thought for a moment. “I think this is where the child stones stayed once… inside both pieces, closed like an egg.”

  “The two wouldn’t be big enough for all of the original seventy-eight,” Marai turned his head and let Naibe poke a bit of melon into his mouth.

  “Maybe it was bigger then, and shrank down when it knew it was going to be worn as a jewel. Maybe it changes size when it’s with its mate,” Djerah mused, then shrugged as he handed the wdjat to the sojourner and began to hungrily sop up the soup that had been set before him.

  “It knew…” Marai leaned in to take the wdjat and ran his finger along the rough edge. “Hmmmm… I’ve only seen this one, but you’re right. So this is the Djehut wdjat for truth. The other, the HoRa… wonder where that is?” he sensed what Djerah would answer in the next instant.

  “The next part of the journey, I guess. Maybe this is the real reason why we have to go north again and not just for the funeral and to turn over what stones we have… gods know I’m not sure if I want to go back now. I’d be tempted to make Raawa and SeUpa’s life a complete misery. I sense through my Yah stone that he got her and the sisters to go across the river after I never could, so there’s no one at all left in Little Kina Ahna that we knew. They have an apartment in a fair neighborhood. They got me declared dead. I still think that if I showed up, looking better and stronger…” he started, moving over to the spot where Ariennu, who had gotten up for a moment, had been sitting.”

  “Sometimes it’s hard to leave the dead with the dead, young man,” Akaru raised a finger into the air, “but you have to.”

  Marai wondered about that too. All the way to Qustul he had thought of little else than creating misery for Hordjedtef and the prince for their acts against himself and especially the women.

  “The Children didn’t seem to mind helping me destroy the thieves when I returned to Ahu Wadi so many years ago.” He remembered something that silenced that thought. It had been part of a vision while he and the women slept in the crystalline pods. The memory rushed into his, Djerah’s, and Naibe’s combined thoughts as a verse.

  While we lay sleeping,

  Not long after some were slain

  A prince searched the wilds for us

  Guided by his vision,

  He found all consumed by fire.

  If you had not seen and slain them first,

  He would ha
ve killed all the women too.

  The legend would be one of loneliness

  And not of joy.

  We learn from you

  Man of Ai, Man of the sand.

  “So that priest you told me about, Hordjedtef, was on his way to Ahu Wadi just the same way his grandson parades about up here now? Why?” Djerah asked.

  “He was hunting and looking for the valuables from the stars that his mentor Djedi had described, even back then. He was looking for the Children of Stone. His meditations brought him to the right place, but we and they were buried in a dune,” Marai added.

  “And if you ever wonder how Prince Maatkare came of such a hot temper and poor behavior…” Marai looked fondly at Naibe, then pressed her to him. “His men would have cleansed the wadi under his order, found three wretched and sick women there and finished everyone. So, I became the tool of my ladies salvation more than the instrument of the thieves’ deaths. It was just their day to die, whether at my hand or Hordjedtef’s.” Marai kissed Naibe’s forehead, then watched Djerah’s face grow a little slack, yet frustrated.

  “Exposing her would have been nice, though… and taking my little ones so they could have a better life,” he shook his head.

  “Days and nights like this, though,” Marai kissed Naibe again, “make me want to forget all of this, get a few sheep or cows, and settle down here if you could find a fallow piece for me to turn into something.”

  “Up at Buhen, there’s more grass and year round too. The cows do well and make thick cream milk,” the elder smiled, looked at all of his guests, nodded to Xania. Changing tones, he added: “Tell me, though, how you’d ever be at ease, knowing what you do,” he tapped his head, “and hearing them speak of what they want you to do.” He laughed. “Maybe that’s the blessing of being one of them, but not having a teaching stone. I know when my time is done I want to rest with my ancestors, not wander endlessly on some task of making the world a right one. I would leave that task to the gods.”

  Marai contemplated that. Despite the gifts they gave, the Children did nag. He thought of Wserkaf down in Ineb Hedj, with no life of his own. He thought of Deka following an entirely different plan. None of it made sense. He had always thought the women would find their own strengths. He would love them and make them feel more loved than any mere mortal man whenever they faltered because of his lonely years in devotion to his Ashera.

  “Well, we already have one more and one less in our band,” the sojourner quipped. “A long time ago I was told to see that the heir of Djedi received the Children of Stone. I thought it would be old Hordjedtef. Then, I thought it could be Wserkaf, but he refused. You told me, Akaru, that you were chosen as a child, yet you are pleasant here. And Djerah-Djee, you’re just a surprise all around, but now I feel it was right for you to be a host.”

  Djerah laughed a little and devoured more bread.

  There. That’s a little more like it, Marai poked at the young man’s arm. We’ll get you through the rest of this, he lay back on a pile of soft pillows scattered around the dining couches.

  “So we’ll just leave Deka here?” Naibe’s voice mirrored disappointment.

  Marai looked up into her eyes helplessly. He didn’t want to think about it, but Akaru spoke for him.

  “Oh, I know you worry over that; but my little one is still with her… in the box you left with them. Perhaps when they come through, and they will do that,” Akaru’s face misted when he thought of the woman who had visited his observatory and the prince. “She is still so very unfinished with me.”

  Once again Marai and Naibe were about to ask a question, but Djerah, lost in his own myriad of topics, piped up:

  “I would like to see the place of my ancestors. Whenever I lie dreaming, and this little thing in my head is working on me and teaching me things, the voices tell me need to go there. I need to see the place in the sand one day where the small craft lies; to see how it works inside.” He shook his dark-but-sun-kissed hair. “Remember how it was easy for me to steer the boat on the way here, even though I had never done that before?” he asked Marai.

  Marai remembered how well Djerah had taken to steering while he rowed, and how they never hit silt or high spots the whole way up, even though they kept fairly close to the river bank. He hadn’t even needed to help him navigate at the Island of Elephants or as they approached the first cataract. Djerah had never been anywhere near a boat, except when he crossed the river to get to the stone workers city, but he instinctively knew how to steer one and how to get the best speed out of it.

  “My steersman?” If he finds the children’s vessel in the sand, he just might be able to teach it to fly again. Marai sat up again and shook his head in wonder at the way every mishap seemed to be part of the original master plan. It was like a marvelous game someone was playing. Who monitored it and what conclusion the game might have was something Marai couldn’t answer.

  “Well…” Marai started, at once lost for words. “Well…” Naibe leaned across Marai to hug and kiss Djerah before she scrambled back into Marai’s arms. The young stonecutter started giggling, his warm brown skin darkening in a blush.

  Akaru saluted him gently, with a grin, and poured more beer for everyone to toast.

  “So you see,” he said, “a happier night. Every leader needs a good boatman and one day perhaps a star-boatman.” He raised his cup. “A toast to the first flight of the prophesied fledgling – the first to change while mostly awake.”

  When everyone laughed and raised their cups, Marai noticed Ariennu was still missing. He assumed she had risen to visit the privy, but that had been quite a while earlier. She had been keeping to herself more than usual since they left Maatkare’s camp, which wasn’t like her at all.

  When everyone had come to Kemet from the wilderness, he had always sensed when she was apt to wander off and have an adventure with a man then cause him to lose his memory of it. He found it comical and not only gave her room to do that, but teased her about it. She had told him if he wanted her at all he would have to understand that, so he let her do as she wished. When they finally became intimate, she never stepped out after that.

  He cursed himself. Marai knew he’d been so lost in the idea of Naibe having his baby that Ariennu had slipped further and further from his thoughts. Now that Djerah was adapting to his new role as a host, she knew she didn’t need to stay around to create healings for him and he was still too wounded in the heart for anything more than disinterested sex.

  Ari’s gone. His thoughts rang out among everyone assembled for dinner. Gone. And damn us all, celebrating while the poor budge sits on the side not even being missed. Now she’s run off.

  “Should I go with you?” Djerah started to get to his feet.

  “No, I need to do this alone,” Marai tipped his cup then drained it, patting Naibe’s arm and getting up from the dining couches. “My fault anyway.”

  “But I thought…” Naibe’s voice grew small again.

  “Don’t worry, Sweet One. I’ll find her,” he bowed his head, sensing exactly where she was and knowing he was to come alone.

  CHAPTER 37: FLOWER OF LIFE

  Marai guessed Ariennu was at the observatory. As he approached, he saw her standing alone on the wide porch roof of Akaru’s temple where the men had seen Deka the other night. She stared out over the plain and into the direction from which the four of them had struggled just a week earlier.

  As quietly as he could, and because he could sense her abiding self-disgust, Marai climbed hand over hand up the rope ladder to the top and then sneaked behind her.

  I’m here, pretty lady. He sent a thought, wanting to touch her, but stopping his hands an instant before they made contact.

  She startled a little, sighing tiredly, but didn’t turn to face him.

  “Knew you’d come,” she smirked. “Sometimes I have to run off somewhere to get you, don’t I?” She looked a little bit over one shoulder as he took both her arms in his hands and pulled her backward to h
im. Her sigh told him the rest of the story. He knew why she slipped away, but tonight he was counting on her to say its name.

  “Yeh. I am jealous,” she let him touch her, turn her, and hold her firmly to his chest. He tousled her frothy dark red hair.

  “Sorry. I just…” he started to apologize.

  “Yeah, I know. You always wanted to have a real child, and now…”

  Marai noticed the sad look in her eyes. “You think Naibe’s having a baby is pulling us apart, don’t you?” Marai pressed her head, reassuring her. “It’s not. That you can believe.”

  She sighed into his chest again. Marai knew why.

  “Damn me, and you too, Marai. You always make me cry and here I go again,”

  “I know why, Ari. It’s because you are the tough one,” he kissed her forehead gently. “It’s the way you were when I found you, and the way you had to be again when I lay sleeping,” he ran his fingers through her hair. “You know you’re my back, my rod, everyone else’s strength. It’s what you’ve always bee n.”

  “I’m not so strong now… crying my eyes out on you…” she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and looked up into his eyes. The neat, dark cosmetic lines had been smeared around her eyes and onto her cheeks. He took the edge of his cloak and touched some of black mark to clean it. “Sometimes I make myself sick with this…”

  Marai grabbed her arms and shook her a little, then held her and rocked her warmly. “Sick with what? Lady, let me tell you something,” he began again remembering the image of her lounging on the top of a sarcophagus, inviting him. “When I lay suffering, I kept seeing you, helping me be strong enough to keep trying to live. You were filling me with your rainbows; a sunny day after the storm.” Marai smiled. “You were strong for me even then, even though you thought I had died, part of you never gave up.”

  Marai felt Ariennu wanting to melt into him and to feel his warmth around her.