“One word,” Wserkaf replied as he urged his companion to continue walking. “Hordjedtef. And there’s no peace between Khentie and Maatkare either. She and her sister were close all of their lives; as children and as young women in the temple of Hethrt, as sisters of womb blood and the divine arts. She will, even now, resist attending events where Prince Maatkare is present.”
Marai suddenly paused with a sharp intake of air as if something had struck him. He faced south to whisper a prayer composed of the women’s names.
“What is it?” Wserkaf asked him, sensing the disturbance.
Something in the starlit night overhead had startled Marai for just a moment. Whatever had been looking at him from time to time throughout his entire journey and even on the first night when the Children of Stone had fallen through the hole in the sky was back. In a kind of self-defense, the sojourner whispered the women’s names through the stone in his brow.
Deka, beloved, listen to my words.
Know I am with you always.
I surround you with what we could not share.
Sweet Ari, hear me once again.
I count on you to be ever strong.
Naibe, my goddess, there are no words
There is only my heart, and your heart - one heart.
Nothing specific returned from the women. Only a sensation of emptiness and sadness followed for a moment before the big man sensed a dull snarling or growling sound from behind the feeling of sorrow. At first, Marai thought it might have been Deka in her snarling wrath form. Then, he felt a chill just around his heart because that snarl reminded him of something else. ‘You are so full of passion that none could resist you… It’s your lack of discipline that will undo you. My own heir…’ Marai remembered the words of Prince Hordjedtef on the first day they had met. He realized now that Hordjedtef had almost spoken about Maatkare, but had stopped himself at ‘heir’. As Hordjedtef had stopped, Marai had thought he sensed the sound of a snuffling hound at his side. Out of the corner of his eye on that day he saw the vaguely-formed image of a medium-sized but powerfully muscular black hunting dog. It had a grey, brushy wolf tail and glowing green eyes – a spirit animal, a familiar. That watching sensation came to him as he heard the snarl tonight. It was quiet and powerful.
“Your wife never believed her sister would kill herself, did she?” Marai turned his attention back to Wserkaf.
“Not at all,” Wserkaf urged Marai down the path again, knowing the lateness of the hour and everything he needed to do would rob him of any chance of sleep. “There was talk for a while of it, but Princess Mery never suffered from that kind of despair,” the inspector continued as the two men walked. “She had miscarried twice in a short while during her intimacy with this young prince, but she, like our Great Father, liked drowning regret or any other harsh emotion in strong drink. Then too, Princess Mery and Maatkare would rage and fight as if they despised each other, often coming to blows. This was always followed by a disgusting show of weeping apologies and blistering passion. It was said this happened quite a bit by their servants. Anyway, he had been drunk and in a rough mood the day she died. They were cursing and threatening. She ran out of the bedchamber and a strap of her gown caught on her neck. Maatkare said she had jumped… that he tried to get to her, but could not grasp or reach her without further strangling her neck. It was rumored by one who had been a servant in the house that his young highness had pushed her from his porch and the straps had been on her neck like a lead for a cow. The king had been nearby and ran in to help when he heard the servants calling out. The prince was halfway over the rail sawing at the straps by that time, but when she had been cut down she lived only long enough to die in her father’s arms. Poor Father Menkaure was never the same after that. His heart broke. Maatkare was banished for a short time, but has since proven himself as a model leader and indispensable to the militia he leads. Hordjedtef urged the king, over time, to believe that young Maatkare was the thwarted hero; that he tried, but could not save her.” Wserkaf continued strolling and talking as Marai contemplated the dark story of strife in the royal houses. “He married his concubine and remanded himself to the temples of Wepwawet for a short while, but even there he was judged fitter to lead a living militia than to guide the souls of the dead. Now he has three strapping and pretty children, but his wife has come to despise him and her children are only interested in what plunder or riches he brings them when he returns from his campaigns. It’s said he is in a constant state of thirst for varieties of women almost as much as he craves the hunt, drink, and the prospects of battle. It’s really a miserable household. Servants, whom he will also whip until they are wounded, for the slightest error, are constantly begging to come out of their service for fear of death.”
Marai instantly envisioned his wives being beaten, but knew that had not happened.
Wserkaf paused in the journey to his boat in order to sort through more ways to present the increasing bad news. Turning to face Marai, he delivered the worst of his news yet. “Something else though. You asked about the box containing your Children of Stone? Well, because he has taken the women Maatkare has it too. Worse for me, he managed to get his hands on my wdjat of seeing and truth.”
Marai tensed as if it he once again wanted to bring death through the distant palace gates, but only for a moment. Then, he chuckled a little in amazement at the next layer of unbelievable intrigue and shaded his eyes in his hand. “That is something else then, isn’t it? Another thing on top of ten, I see,” his voice became quiet and tired again. “I’m not worried about the Children of Stone. They have a way of self-protecting. It just,” he shook his head, “doesn’t make sense. I don’t even know why this prince isn’t lying crisp on the sands of Ta-Seti or, even better yet, face down in the river in front of us.” He continued to follow the inspector as the priest resumed walking, but stayed out of the light of the lamp the man held out in front of them as he led the way.
“Hordjedtef told me once that he had learned many of the words of the language the Ntr speak from his old master, the Great Djedi. I was taught the phrases about calmness and peace, which seemed to work a little bit on you tonight, but not too much. I’m convinced there’s another word, spell, or device at play here that one combines in a whispered or wished utterance. The word nau seems to resonate.”
Marai paused, uncomfortable. That word, spoken aloud, made the child stone in his brow tingle a little. If it was one of the words of a spell, and the entire utterance had been known or used it could have been potent enough to slow him or any of the women down. When the young Ta Seti sesh came to the Kina-Ahna market and mentioned it to Marai, his Child Stone’s reaction was so fierce that Marai had felt the stone would grind itself out of his head. He had been reduced to helpless aching and fainting. Why Hordjedtef would have taught a mere sesh, or scribe-trainee, the stronger phases and did not teach it to his closest protégé made no sense. Evidently Hordjedtef still had secrets he kept from his second in command. At his age, he was likely prepared to go into the West with the rest of his knowledge if he couldn’t control how the information would be used. Marai wondered if Wserkaf even understood that.
“Wait,” Marai interrupted, putting his hand on the priest’s shoulder. “The Children don’t speak in words or use spells among themselves. They communicate in ‘knowings’ - instant knowledge. Any language they create is just for us poor humans who cannot speak to them this way. It was another reason they came to me. I ‘talked’ to my sheep… a bleat here and there – different tones. Maybe…”
“Well, whatever the truth is, he taught some words to me and has doubtlessly taught others to Prince Maatkare to aid in his control of the women. If you go to him, you should expect he will use the same utterances on you.”
The men now stood on the path within sight of the lagoon. In the light of the quarter-moon, the boats tethered there showed as dark shapes in a still, flat surface. A few men were seated near the dock playing some game of chance. With the
king’s death, a few others had decided to stay attentive for early boating needs. Dawn would be arriving in a few hours to drive away the evil spirits that lurked on the water at night.
Stepping quickly for a moment, Wserkaf told his man carrying their light to go ahead and inform the men at the dock that he would need his boat readied for a crossing. Falling back with Marai, he continued. “It was my fault the wdjat got away from me, but I wasn’t thinking clearly that day,” the inspector continued. “The Lady ArreNu took it from me when I brought Naibe to Shepseskaf’s house. I let her take it because I was beginning to suspect something. I thought a spirit told me it wasn’t going to be safe in my house or even on my neck any more, and I never used it on my duty. Great One had always wanted control of it and lately I’d caught him staring at it as if he coveted it once again.” The inspector hurried Marai along and down the path to the docks, worried that this caper of getting the big sojourner across the river in the middle of the night to little Kina Ahna had already taken too long. The dawn procession to carry the king’s body to the Tent of Purification might begin before he could get to the palace and into his official regalia, let alone have time to ritually purify himself.
Marai stopped him one more time, placed his hand upon the inspector’s shoulder and breathed out again, calming himself.
“Are you okay?” Wserkaf realized Marai’s energy felt weak to him again.
“I just…” the sojourner looked around and found a low wall that ran along the opposite side of the lagoon path. He stumbled and sat, head in his hands. “We came so far, the ladies and I did. We trusted the Children, but I wonder now. Are they abandoning us?”
“The sesen petals sometimes fall unbidden,” Wserkaf consoled his friend and sat with him. “Those you choose to step out on, sometimes dislodge the petal nearby.”
See, my sweet man. See the hidden thing.
It was Ari’s voice. Wserkaf sensed it too.
“Lady ArreNu’s voice; here in my heart,” the inspector gasped.
“Ari. Where are you? Call to me so I can hear and come to you,” Marai’s aching voice spoke just above a whisper. He closed his eyes for a moment, not even noticing he had drifted into a semi-conscious state.
A thing hidden, because…
She sounded quiet to both men, but her spirit-voice had a bloodless and different tone to it, almost as if she herself was sleeping and had come to him in a dream to unmask another secret. Both Wserkaf and Marai sensed the day the wdjat was taken.
“She’ll be stronger soon. No, Highness, don’t worry so much. Naibe’s really stronger than the rest of us. She just doesn’t know it yet. It’s not so bad here with Prince Shepseskaf. At least it won’t be if they think she can have a child for him. I know she wanted Marai’s child, but with him gone I’ve told her maybe this will be the best answer… bear a young prince for the family.” Ariennu said and pressed Wserkaf in her arms again.
Marai saw her hand slip to the inspector’s throat and take the wdjat. There was also something else. At the last instant, when she kissed his eyes, she pushed a small leather purse into his hands. Marai didn’t know why he hadn’t seen this exchange earlier.
Take this, until we can all be together. Think of it as-a trade. These are the eight my Marai told me to keep safe, so use them wisely.
Because of the little leather purse, the inspector hadn’t worried about the wdjat too greatly. At least, if she could hide it in the palace, it would be out of Hordjedtef’s hands.
Wserkaf showed Marai the narrow leather purse in his palm, then handed it to him.
“You had…” Marai suddenly understood why he had been able to see Ariennu’s adventures of the past few months. The bag contained the Child Stones that Ariennu had set aside. She had handled them for a few days before giving them to the inspector to take on his duty instead of the wdjat. Marai wanted to kiss the priest, because now a small ray of light showed in the gathering darkness.
Even though he didn’t open it, Marai knew the eight stones it contained were the same eight Children of Stone he had picked out the night Houra died. Through those stones, he had seen the true face of Hordjedtef. When he left to meet with the priests, he told Ariennu to keep all of the Children of Stone safe, but if they were ever in any danger, to sort out any eight Child Stones that spoke to her and keep them safe separately.
The inspector hadn’t understood at first that Ariennu took his crystalline wdjat in trade for them. She did it so that all of the stones would never be in the same place at the same time until she felt confident that a new direction and future was given. Now that Ari, Deka, and Naibe-Ellit had been whisked away to Ta-Seti, these stones were all of their essence that remained in Ineb Hedj.
From where he sat, Wserkaf looked at the stars and the position of the moon, puzzled. According to their position, it was still before the middle of the night; time hadn’t passed. “Is this your doing?” he asked Marai. “No mere man can control the passage of hours. It should be near day.”
“But you have thought it in your legend at least, that I am no ordinary man.” Marai smiled. “Once more, friend, while they prepare the boat” he lay the closed bag on his right thigh and took Wserkaf’s hand to place it on the unopened bag. “There are still many things I must know, such as how my women were spirited away from the king’s household.”
“You’re too weak. Another trance could unhinge you,” he protested. “Working time like this and then seeing through it into the past and into another’s life is madness… pure madness,” Wserkaf started to pull his hand away.
Marai reached to touch the inspector’s temple and replaced the man’s hand on the bag.
The trance-like feeling swam through both men at once, enveloping them.
Wserkaf settled into his calmness and emptied his thoughts, believing he heard Marai’s voice in the distance.
If I die tonight,
I care not.
This knowing is for both of us.
If I do not wake tonight,
you will know what to do.
Marai slowly breathed out again. He saw it was afternoon in a wide room with a few beds. Ari was there, looking in a mirror.
CHAPTER 24: PREPARATIONS AND DISCOVERIES
Ariennu put a shine on the bronze mirror with a scrap of linen. Naa, the youngest of the concubines who lived in the women’s quarters, had given it to her. The still water in the central reflection pool had always given Ari some idea of her reflection, but a shiny mirror could reveal less noticeable imperfections. She didn’t see any, but wanted to be sure.
Tonight, most of the dignitaries in Ineb Hedj and their families would attend the “send-away” party for Prince Maatkare Raemkai. She knew that gorgeous-looking prince had spirited Deka away from her and Naibe their first night on this side of the river. Oddly enough, the Ta-Seti woman’s thoughts had not reached out to either of them in at least three weeks. Until this morning, even the concubines had been curiously silent about that young prince whenever Ari passed by. She knew they spoke of him, and that the whispers were decidedly naughty; she just wasn’t included.
The man was Hordjedtef’s grandson. As much as she disliked the old man, she was only mildly concerned of any similarity between the two men. Today, she had overheard their snickers about him. Random gossip had prompted her to slow down and to hide behind one of the drapes between the rooms so she could listen much more carefully.
“Ooh! Go with Highness Maatkare if I am not chosen by our Great Majesty tonight? I know he would take me, but no sister!” Ari had heard one of the women speak in low secretive tones. “I like being able to walk to my room, later!”
“Ha!” Ari heard another, “Truly a demon takes him on his couch. He’s trouble without mercy. You could die with a stupid grin frozen on your head and knees that forgot each other’s names before the bitter end! You know I’ve heard he even…” the women moved out of range, laughing and teasing to Ari’s great disappointment. She didn’t really need to hear more. Sh
e already had enough of a case of thigh sweats over the prince.
Mmm. I wonder what that meant, she thought. Maybe time for me to see about him, then. I could use a good and forceful one now and again among all of these respectful men. A challenge.
Moments later, Ariennu cornered young Naa as she left the privy, grabbed her arm and casually whirled her back around to a more private area behind the enclosed benches over the clay-lined cistern for a “sisterly” chat.
“So, tell me about this pretty man who comes here tonight,” she asked the young concubine.
The girl’s eyes popped open. She glanced around as if she had become worried, then moved closer. “Don’t let Our Father hear you call him pretty,” she cautioned. “It’s… well he’s…” she stalled.
“Hmm?” Ari knew the news had to be excellent if the girl was blushing this heartily.
“He lived in this house until his own was built, before I was here. It was before all of the bad things started.”
“So, are you going to tell me about it? I’m getting tired of you ladies hushing it up around Little One and me as if we still don’t belong here,” Ari folded her arms and tapped her foot, irritated.
The girl hesitated, looked around and once she was certain no one else could hear her speak, she began.
“Father Menkaure-kha had another daughter once who was the true divine one, they said. Everything she did, her songs, her dances, her celebrations and even her lovemaking was magical. She was a young form of Hethrt, they said, and he loved her so very much.”
Another woman approached. Naa led Ariennu out to the garden and as far away from others as she could go without the guards coming to question them.
“Her divine brother, Prince Kuenre died and she had no child by him. Not long after that, she discovered Prince Maatkare Raemkai and told Our Majesty she liked him so much that she wished him for take the pshent crown next. He was blood royal as Great One’s grandson, through his daughter, so it was allowed. They had a palace built nearby, right away, but then she lost two babies by him and then one day she suddenly died. After that, Prince Maatkare was sent away far to the south. No one would speak of how she died, but I heard some say she hanged herself.”
Going Forth By Day Page 30
