by D. S.
Josef glanced over his shoulder; they would be on them at any moment, but not just yet. He took a step towards the pair, his fingers tightening about the mace, his gaze settling on his father in law. “Forgive me, Father, but the gods will have to wait.” He swung the mace with brutal force and it struck home with a sickening crunch. The faintest of grunts escaped the old priest’s lips as he fell to the sand, the side of his skull caved in. Amaris shrieked. She scurried backwards, unable to drag her eyes from the dead man as dark, sticky gore oozed from what was once his head. Josef tossed the mace back into the chariot and all at once the others were on them.
He ran to them. “Hapu! Hapu! Fly! Fly like the wind! The high priest has fallen from the chariot!”
Hapu gawped at the body, too shocked for words. “Fly damn you, fly!” Josef shouted. “He may yet live! Wake Solon. If anyone can save him he can!”
With a nod Hapu pulled at the reins and lashed his steeds like he’d never lashed them before. The chariot’s wheels churned deep into the earth, tossing sand and rock high in the air as it careened around, the priest struggling to keep the horses under control.
“Akil, Jafar, to me!” Josef ran to the high priest’s stricken body. “We must staunch the bleeding!” All was a whirl of action, Akil jumped from his vehicle and Jafar near fell over himself as he searched for something, anything that could stop the flow of blood.
Akil bent over the body and came to the obvious conclusion. “No sawbones can heal this,” he gave Josef a curious look.
Josef sighed. “It’s as I feared then ... he’s gone.” He stood over the body for a while before at length he turned to Akil and his wife’s ghaffir. “Carry him to the Sun Temple,” he said sadly, “an honour guard at your side.”
“An honour guard of course,” Jafar said, “but it is not for us to carry him, we’re fighting men, let me fetch a brace of Habiru bulls and...”
“You would have my wife’s father, the high priest of Heliopolis, borne by slaves? I’ll not have that for him. You will carry him, and be honoured that I see you fit to do so.”
Josef turned to the runaways as Jafar grumbled and went about his orders. The child was open-mouthed, her expression somewhere between shock and wonder. Yocobel, still clutching her stomach, though standing somewhat more upright now, was staring at him in suspicious silence. “You two,” he said aggressively. “You will return to the city with me, I will punish you for your transgressions personally.” Akil looked up sharply at that. The slaves mounted the chariot behind Josef and with a flick of his whip they were on their way back to the Sun City.
XIII
The Sun Ring slipped on easily. Josef gazed in silence as the Godfires of the high altar burned white and his acolytes added further tinder to the flames. A word from the high priest and the acolytes withdrew, a moment later Shiri emerged from the shadows. “What now?” She said rather coldly.
Josef frowned. She is ever cold of late. “It’s as I said to Solon, the minor temples about this city take from our haul, and for what? We own the land they are built on, yet they give us poor tribute, how much gold that could come to the Sun Temple instead lies fallow, adorning idols of Osiris, Hathor, Thoth and the rest?” He stared at Shiri as he spoke, expecting her to support his words, but she said nothing. He frowned again. Her mind is elsewhere.
Solon grunted. “And as I said, I like it not. The hour is not yet ripe.”
“Religion is a business, Solon, priests no more than merchants flogging blessings and promises from their pulpits. The acolytes of the other gods can sell such wares from the Sun Temple as easily as the rest. I mean to have but one god in Heliopolis, and the people will have but one place to worship him – here!” he pointed to the floor, “in our new temple.”
Shiri finally seemed to hear him. “But surely it is not for you to tell folk which gods they can and can’t worship?”
Josef looked impatient. “Then tell me, Shiri, how else can we raise the funds?”
Solon’s practiced eye passed over the girl. Has she told him yet? She can’t keep it secret much longer. He reached for the high priest’s arm. “But to melt the idols in the Godfires so that you can flog the metal? Seth’s arse, man! Do you not think word will spread beyond Heliopolis? There will be uproar, best wait and-”
“Wait?” Josef said. “Even now the elder Pharaoh journeys home on his stretcher, his body broken but his victory complete. He drags ten thousand more of my people with him; men, women, children, wrenched from every tribe of Jezreel. If I wait, they’ll be sold and shipped to the mines of Serabit or the stone pits of the Red Mountain to toil and die in misery and pain. At best, they’ll be separated and sold to a thousand different lordlings – families and hearts torn apart forever. I cannot delay, I must have them, and I must have them now.”
“You can’t save them all, Yuya. How’s Heliopolis to support near twenty thousand Habiru? Some will have to be sacrificed for the good of the many, harsh I know, but that is simply the way the world is made.”
Shiri chewed her lip. “Then perhaps it’s time to make a new world, a better one.” Josef was right, she realised, they had to do whatever they could. This was not the time for half measures.
Solon smiled at her. “Many seek to change the world, Shiri. The wiser course is to first change themselves.” He turned back to Josef. “Make allies, rise in fame and glory, rebuild the temple so that it may rival the great house of Ptah in Memphis or even the halls of Amun in Karnack itself. You have people enough to do that now, and it will be well to see them work at something, or questions will be asked. With that done you can elevate the power of your house higher still, move to gain the ear of young Prince Tuthmosis, he is not enamoured with Amun like his younger brother; he might yet be convinced to follow the Three That Are One. And then in time, with you as the voice of the god of Heliopolis, perhaps something can-”
“All this I will do,” Josef said. “Plans are in motion already. But men need freedom and men need hope, I’ll not abandon ten thousand to-”
“Men need water and men need bread, aught else is like a beautiful woman – desirable, but oft as not more trouble than it’s worth. Do right by the eight thousand you have already, forget the rest for now, or you risk losing them all.”
Josef waved him into silence as trumpets announced their guests’ arrival. No, Solon, I will not forget. I will not forget even one. He motioned for Shiri to leave by the rear exit as the temple doors swung open and his wife led the priests in. He’d have enough to deal with without the priests complaining of a Habiru in the temple. Solon stared after her a moment, before abruptly deciding to follow her out.
Tjuya curtsied before her husband, offering him the broadest of smiles. She had taken her father’s death surprisingly well and had offered stronger support than Solon, or even Shiri for his plan to close the other temples. Her father would never have had the courage to do that, and what was it but simply a return to the old ways? The upstart temples did naught but take gold that would once have come to them.
“Light of my life,” she held his eyes, he looked handsome astride his high seat, handsome and powerful. “I give to you the sun priests, and I give you the priests of Osiris and Ptah the acolytes of Montu, Thoth and Seth the priestesses of Hathor, Isis and Sekhmet and...” she paused a little uncertainly. “I give you, Papis, new made vizier to the Red Throne and first servant of the Hidden One.”
Josef raised an eyebrow. “Papis? What brings you to our humble temple? Does the Co-Regent grow weary of your counsel?”
“On the contrary, my lord,” Papis bowed stiffly. “I come hither out of respect to your wife’s father and to hear the wise words of the new high lord of the Sun Temple, and also...” he paused. “To bring news of the Great One’s passing. Horus made flesh, first lord of the Two Lands, the greatest and noblest of all men, no longer walks among the living. He fought long and hard against Sekhmet’s foul vapours as they grew and festered in the wound, but in the end not even Herben could s
ave him from the dark path.”
The temple went deathly silent. Josef nodded slowly. “You come bearing ill-tidings, Papis. Heliopolis will offer prayer and sacrifice to aid the Divine One’s passing.”
“He needs not the prayers of Heliopolis. He entrusts his body to Karnack as his father and his father’s father did before him.”
“And so ... Amenhotep takes the Uraeus Crown.”
“He would not have had it so,” Papis replied. “Not for many years yet, but alas such are the cruelties of fate. With a heavy heart, he seeks to raise great monuments in Karnack to his father’s glory; a new temple, the like of which has not been seen before and two seated colossi of red granite to honour the twin gods that led us to victory on the fields of Armegiddo.”
“When is his first-born to be named Co-Regent? I would journey to Memphis to offer fealty.”
Papis shrugged. “The Red Crown will not pass to that one. He spends his life in a waking dream. This world is but a half imagined shadow to him, no more real than the visions he sees by night. The Co-Regency will go to the younger son, Tenamun, when he comes of age.”
Josef paled a little. Tenamun, puppet of Karnack. “So be it.” He turned back to the sun priests. “To our own business then.” He shifted a little uncomfortably, half hoping that Papis would take his leave. Better if there was no representative of the Theban Triad here for this. Pentephres’s words rang in his ears. ‘It was the priests of Karnack that did it.’ A moment he felt uncertain. Rise too high and they might do it again, and with both the new Pharaoh and the soon to be Co-Regent in their hands... He steeled himself and looked past the cleric. “The blood sacrifice is to be cancelled,” he said quickly.
There was a slight murmuring amongst the sun priests but no outright condemnation. It had been known that Pentephres’s heir had been against the sacrifice from the start. Only old Hapu voiced open opposition. “If naught else the child should burn for attempting escape, the Three That Are One demand sacrifice. If not for her, Pentephres would still...”
Tjuya jumped on him. “How dare you question your high priest?” Already her husband had made them the largest slave holders in the Memphite plains. For that alone he would have her loyalty, but if his next plan succeeded they would soon be able to count themselves amongst the richest houses in the entire Lower Kingdom. Hapu bowed to the daughter of Pentephres more quickly than he would to her husband and stepped back.
“You have the truth of it, Hapu, a sacrifice is required, but I have a new and greater offering in mind.” Josef turned to his sun priests. “There is but one true god in Heliopolis is there not? Who is he?”
“The Three That Are One,” the sun priests intoned solemnly, ignoring the vindictive murmurings of the acolytes of lesser gods.
“Aye, and you know his true name yet dare not speak it. Three gods, Atum, the father of life, Ra, the spirit of light, and Horus, son of Isis, blessed virgin who gave herself to no living man...” He rose from the high seat and held the bloodstone ring aloft for all to see. “Three gods united in flame at the dawn of creation, they banished the night and brought light and life into the world. And the fire of their union burns still!” He pointed to the heavens through the aperture above his head bringing the bloodstone ever closer to the light.
“The very sun itself, the life giver,” he took a breath, “the Aton,” The sun priests drew breath as he said the great one’s name. “The Aton is the only god in Heliopolis and he will suffer no rivals.” Almost miraculously the Sun Ring seemed to erupt and sparkle, casting a faint red glow over its bearer as it entered the sight of god.
“Blasphemy!” Papis pointed an accusing finger at the high priest. “Do you name yourself king that you-”
“I name myself high priest and lord of Heliopolis, these lands are mine by right, the temples to lesser gods exist here only by my sufferance, and I will suffer them no longer. No more will I have golden idols of the false ones in Aton’s city; they will burn in the Godfires and provide a sweet savour for the lord. Here is your sacrifice!”
He pointed to the doors as they swung open. A long line of his temple guards burst boldly in, carrying scores of idols aloft. A few of the sun priests murmured nervously but Hapu found his voice. “The Three That Are One demand sacrifice!” he shouted, his eyes glowing. He had underestimated the courage of his new high priest, but now the boy had shown his worth. Yuya had proved himself a man of Aton and done what Pentephres would never have dreamed of, never have dared. He’d stood up for the god of Heliopolis and banished those that would encroach on his city.
The old priest raised his hands and threw his full weight behind Yuya. “Burn the false ones! Burn them all! Let no graven image survive! The Three That Are One demand sacrifice! What is the blood of a slave against the very flesh of the gods? Here is your sacrifice, almighty Aton – the idols of the false ones!”
The acolytes of the lesser temples cried out in anguish, but their voices were drowned under the weight of the upwelling from the sun priests. Little wonder the temple had been in decline for so long, little wonder the god of gods had abandoned them. For they had abandoned him, they had turned from him and allowed false idols to fill his city and steal his worshipers, but now they would make amends. Frantically they grabbed the idols from the soldiers and tossed them into the flames.
Papis’s face was stone. He saw a small silver and gold statue of Amun in the hands of one of the Heliopolitian guards and grabbed it from him. Akil glared at him and made to take it back. Papis met his gaze imperiously. “Drop your hand, dog, or would you see the All Father burn in the flames of heresy?”
Akil reached for it hesitantly. “I follow my lord’s commands.”
“You follow him to the hell fires of Duat! Who but the god of Thebes held the infidel Hyksos at bay during the long wars of the elder days? Did this Aton of Heliopolis prevent his city from falling to the heathens? Who but Amun and his consort Mut of the truths can call for the hidden legions to slay the dread lord Apeth in his halls of blood and flesh? Who but Amun can spare the souls of the damned from the jaws of the Black Serpent?” He held the idol out, offering it to the soldier. “Take it then, take the All Father and do foul sacrilege.”
Akil lowered his hand and looked away. “Go, priest, away with you then.” Papis turned tucking the statue under his robes, “And, priest,” Akil called after him. “When you talk to your beads, remember the man that spared the Hidden One from the fires of Aton.”
XIV
Shiri passed through the gardens slowly. How had it come to this? She could barely look at him anymore, and yet she could not stop seeing him. Everywhere she went she saw his face, every time she closed her eyes she felt his lips, every time she slept she wished he was beside her. Yet, every time he came to her and tried to speak she hated him.
She heard a stealthy footfall behind her and spun. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it was not her master’s wife. “You make a habit of sneaking up on unescorted ladies?”
Old Solon winked. “Only the pretty ones.” A small black creature, half way between a kitten and a cat was snaking in and out between his feet, tangling itself up in his legs and looking determined to trip him.
“I didn’t know you had a cat.”
“A cat? I don’t have a cat.” The old man cursed, commanding the animal to leave him be. The kitten chose to ignore him. He rolled his eyes. “I threw the pest a scrap the other week and ever since I can’t get rid of it.” He glared down at the creature, before apparently realising he was fighting a losing battle, bent to give his resolute escort a rub between the ears. The kitten seemed delighted.
The old man grinned up at her before regaining his feet. “Already the gardens are looking better. I have some seeds in my workshop, come on I’ll show you.”
He knows she realised.
He headed towards it, still talking merrily as he beckoned for her to follow. “I think some basil and perhaps a few sprigs of belladonna would-”
“I d
on’t know what to do,” she blurted. “Sometimes I think to run.”
Solon paused in mid-step. “Nay, Shiri, not that above all else, ‘twas luck alone that saved the last ones, any but Yuya and they would have paid a heavy price.”
She turned from him. Worth the risk if it were my life alone. “When Tjuya discovers ... she might ... she might...” she held a protective hand over her belly. “She comes to me whenever he is not around you see ... she comes and makes me serve her in whatever small way gives her pleasure. Though she does not seem so interested of late, and her demands that I kneel grow less frequent.”
“Some mercy there then, mayhap she grows weary of the battles.”
Shiri shook her head. She loses interest because she thinks me broken. “She was bluffing,” she said at length. “I should have seen it then. She will not betray him. I see it in the smiles she gives him every day.”
“Treachery was born in a woman’s smile.”
“You think she would yet go against him?” she looked suddenly nervous.
He shrugged. “Who can say? But I’d wager it would take more than the flight of a slave to drive her to it. Her fate is bound to his now.”
“As is mine,” she stared passed him, “and theirs.” Amaris and Yocobel were hard at work at the far end of the garden, weeding and scattering seeds. There were no leering ghaffirs, nor lecherous priests standing over them now. But they seemed determined to work all the harder for it. More than once she’d imagined she’d seen Yocobel casting Josef the occasional wistful glance. How many more hearts would he take?
