Khenet shrugged. “I’ve little to take care of.”
“No entanglements?” Pharaoh half smiled. “None of the beauties of my capital city have made an impression on you?”
Khenet grimaced as he shook his head. “Great ladies of the Court have no interest in a tumble with a rough-and-ready soldier. Nor do I have any interest in them. A night spent in the bed of a tavern wench provides as much pleasure. And fewer expectations.”
“Good, sending you on this duty causes me enough pain without bringing grief to any who may have come to love you.” The sovereign closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m more grateful than I can say. Ask anything of me and it shall be granted.”
“You’re my family. Though I was adopted into your House, not born as your brother, I need nothing more.” Khenet met Pharaoh’s eyes steadily, unblinking.
Pharaoh nodded, and with the gesture he seemed to shed the formal severity of his title and was, for a brief moment, simply Khenet’s brother, Nat. “If you return from this assignment, I’ll heap gold of valor on your head. And if you don’t, my queen and I will mourn you with broken hearts. I’ll personally perform every ritual in the Book of the Dead to assure your ka safe passage to the Afterlife. I’ll make a plea to the Great Ones of Judgment myself if needs be.”
“We shall see, my lord.” He gave his commander a formal salute. “May the Great Ones watch over you.”
“And you.” Pharaoh rapped the blade of his knife against a small gong at the edge of the table.
A moment later Chief Scribe Edekh was bowing his way into the room. “Marnamaret and Sebnihotep await your pleasure in the outer chambers, Great One.”
Stabbing the knife into a honeyed date on the platter, Nat said, “Their presence is unnecessary after all.”
Eyebrows raised, Edekh glanced at Khenet before saying, “I’ll inform them they’re released from duty today.”
“No, tell them I need companions for a hunt, this afternoon. Bid them get everything ready.” Nat shook his head at Khenet. “I’ll need to get out of this palace after the ceremony we were discussing, clear my head from the taint of Nephthys’s wishes. Edekh, please escort our friend to the library and tell the librarian he’s to have immediate access to anything he desires.”
Without another word, Nat left the private chamber.
Wheeling, Khenet marched out of the office, past the guards, through crowds of courtiers and scribes, traversing long corridors on the way to the library, his old friend Edekh keeping pace silently beside him. Once or twice the scribe cleared his throat as if to say something but then kept his own counsel. Khenet’s surroundings blurred. He preferred to be in motion, the physical exertion allowing him time to think over the daunting assignment he’d accepted. Only when he’d reached the embossed wooden doors to the library did he pause to take deep breaths.
What have I gotten myself into? What do I know about black magic?
He set his shoulders, resolute. Well, I know much about strategy, and I may have some surprises Nephthys or the weasel of a nomarch won’t be expecting.
“I’ll introduce you to the librarian, repeat Pharaoh’s orders regarding your access,” said Edekh. “Then leave you to your research. I’ve got to arrange all the other matters for this strange journey.”
“My gear—” Khenet knew he’d need more than the weapons he wore for a journey of this length. Even one that stood a strong chance of ending in his death.
“Your weapons and other personal items for travel will be packed and brought from the officers’ quarters by the time you return from the temple, I promise.”
“How will I get to the temple?”
“A royal chariot with one of Pharaoh’s fastest teams will be waiting for you at the private entrance to the palace. I’ll send an under scribe to escort you from the library to the gate in time to arrive for the selection ceremony.” Edekh reached for the carved ivory duck’s head handle on the door. “You have an hour to do your research, maybe a little more, so I’ll say my farewells later.” He allowed Khenet to precede him into the library.
* * *
Rolling the last scroll back onto its wooden spindle and tossing it into the waiting basket for the librarians to reshelve at their leisure, Khenet sat back on the lion-footed stool. He ran his hands over his close-cut hair and pondered the results of his hasty research. Not wonderful, but a glimmer of hope, perhaps. Glancing at the shadows creeping across the intricately patterned floor, he knew he’d better get going or he’d be late to the temple. I’ll probably meet the under scribe coming to fetch me.
As he walked out of the library doors, he was hailed by a gentle, familiar voice. Turning at the sound of his name, he was off balance as a husky toddler wrapped his chubby arms around Khenet’s knees, demanding a ride.
“Khenet doesn’t have time for games today, my son,” Queen Ashayet said, her voice hushed and her tone sad. “He’s leaving us to go on a long journey.”
“Your majesty.” Hand over his heart, Khenet bowed. Then he disentangled himself from the prince’s grasp, lifting the boy high into the air, until the young one was laughing in glee.
Motioning her guards to stand watch at the library doors, Ashayet drew Khenet inside. “Here, we can be more private, no need for ceremony between us.” The kohl and malachite around her eyes seemed smudged, as if she might have shed a tear or two. Petite, she barely came to his shoulders. “My husband told me some of what he and the goddess discussed last night. I don’t like the sounds of her plan at all. And that it should be you who is to make this sacrifice...” She bit her lips.
Checking to make sure the librarians were maintaining a respectful distance and kneeling as protocol required, Khenet reached out an arm and hugged her briefly. “Your concern warms my heart, Asha, but it’s high time I was sent on a mission, had some adventure. I’m getting fat and lazy sitting here in Thebes.”
“Chasing dancers instead of enemy warriors, I know,” she teased, trying to match his light tone.
Squeezing her shoulder, Khenet looked her in the eyes. “I promise you, I won’t travel to Viper Nome only to die like a tethered lamb. Pharaoh told you why I was his first choice?”
She nodded. “You might have a chance of surviving, with the help of your own gods. Even when we were children growing up together, you stood a bit apart, had your own secrets. Promise me,” she said, suddenly fierce, “you’ll do your best to survive and return to Thebes. You’re the only brother I have left to me in this world, even if we’re not bound by blood. I want my brother here, not in the Afterlife, not yet.”
Khenet kissed her forehead. “My oath on it.”
She reached for the prince, who was playing with papyrus scrolls, stacking them into a fort. “Come, my son—we must allow Khenet to be on his way. Say goodbye.”
The child took her hand, gazing at Khenet solemnly. “May all be well with you, may you flourish and return to us,” the prince said, no doubt repeating something he’d once heard his father utter.
Touched, Khenet bowed. “Thank you, your highness.”
Ashayet and the prince moved away, toward the bowing librarians. Khenet gazed after them for a moment before going into the hall and heading toward the gates of the palace, and the start of his journey.
* * *
Escorted by a second chariot full of armed guards, Khenet arrived at the entrance to the forbidding temple of Nephthys by midmorning, as commanded. As soon as the vehicle stopped, Khenet jumped down. “Wait for me,” he said to the driver. “I’ll be returning at some point with the woman I’m to bring to Pharaoh.”
Not waiting to answer the salute from the captain of his escort, Khenet strode into the long passageway to the temple entrance, his rapid steps echoing over the inlaid sandstone pavement. Tall columns towered on either side of him, topped with carvings of stylized lo
tus and papyrus flowers. Black-kilted guards stood at the open door to the first ring of the temple; they passed him through without challenge.
The inner courtyard was highly decorated, with hieroglyphics praising Nephthys and her glory painted everywhere—on the walls, the ceiling, the floor. Priests and priestesses stood about in small groups, whispering. They stared at Khenet as he marched through the area, ignoring them, heading straight for the door to the next chamber, moving closer to the presence of the goddess. He ascended the stairs with a measured pace, although his heart was pounding, not knowing when or if he would meet the Great One herself today. It seemed likely.
A young priest stationed just outside the doorway to the next chamber held up a hand. “We welcome Pharaoh’s representative to the temple of Nephthys. May I know your name, my lord, so I may announce you to those who wait?”
“Khenet.”
Inclining his head, the priest got a better grip on his golden staff, ornamented with a winding coral-and-turquoise serpent, and stepped through the doorway. Khenet followed.
“Khenet, emissary of the Great One Pharaoh Nat-re-Akhte, has arrived,” said the priest in sonorous tones that filled the room, putting a stop to all the nervous conversations that had been going on.
As he stalked past the herald, five black-clad priests of Nephthys turned to him. Each man’s gaze was measuring, sweeping from Khenet’s head to his toes. He stared back, unflinching. I’m not going to be intimidated by a bunch of priests. Peripherally, he was aware of three small family groups, highborn nobility by their attire, clustered off to the side, under a wall mural depicting Nephthys spreading her wings to protect those who worshipped her.
The head priest walked forward to meet him. “Welcome to the temple. Are you ready to observe the selection of the woman who will serve the goddess in this matter?”
“I am.” Khenet nodded, wondering how much these people knew about what Nephthys intended for her human servant. Just because she’d told Pharaoh about her plot to infiltrate the Viper Nome didn’t necessarily mean anyone else was privy to the information. Maybe I’m not even supposed to know.
“Come with me.” The priest led him up the stairs to the dais in front of the door to the inner sanctum, which was firmly closed and locked, guarded on either side by statues of the goddess standing taller than a man. Khenet positioned himself off to the side while the priest took front and center position, rapping his tall gold and white staff on the floor to get attention.
“The moment for selection of the candidate has arrived. Let this generation’s Daughters of Nephthys, bearing her mark, stand forth.”
Daughters? Were these women semi-divine? A chill ran down his spine but the three females who detached themselves from the crowd of family members looked like ordinary women to Khenet.
First to step forward was a young girl, who couldn’t have been more than ten. She looked proud and scared at the same time, and her father had to pry her out of her mother’s arms. The mother stifled sobs, holding a square of linen to her lips as the father led the child to the slightly raised stone circle indicated by the high priest.
Surrounded by family members, the next woman was standing hand in hand with a defiant-looking young noble, who had his other arm around her waist. Blotchy red spots stained her cheeks, and her eyes were red-rimmed, the kohl smearing. It was obvious she’d been weeping. Makeup could only disguise so much. Khenet thought she must be pretty under normal circumstances. She leaned heavily on her man as he escorted her to the designated circle, only backing off when the head priest frowned and made a dismissive gesture. Her lover or husband returned to the family group, hands clenched, glaring at the priests.
The third woman walked away from her family group by herself, head held high. She rejected an attempted embrace from a man standing next to the noble, who was obviously her father. Khenet saw that the girl’s father was arm in arm with a much younger, heavily pregnant woman who had to be the twin of the disdained suitor, so alike were their faces and bearing. The wife was having trouble concealing her eagerness at what was to transpire. He stifled a smile. That one will shed no tears if her husband’s grown daughter is selected. Doubtless the household is at war, taking sides between eldest daughter and upstart wife.
Young but not a girl in the first blush of youth, this third woman’s face bore a thoughtful expression, but she hadn’t wept—that he could see. Odd she’s not yet married. Couldn’t find a man to suit her? Highborn, refined features. The perfect oval shape of her face was highlighted by her ebony hair, which was ruthlessly pulled into an intricate knot high on her head, following the new style set by Nat’s queen, who rarely wore wigs. The woman’s glossy mane seemed like it would be naturally curly if left to its own devices. Their gazes crossed for a moment, giving him full view of her soft brown eyes, then she hastened to join the weeping girl on the stone dais, putting a comforting arm around her shoulders while the child watched with wide eyes.
“It’s a signal honor to be called upon for service to the Great One Nephthys,” the high priest said, directing a reproachful look at the distraught woman. “Rejoicing, not sorrow, is appropriate. Take care lest the goddess be offended.”
Hiccuping, swiping at her eyes ineffectually with the edge of the shawl, she drew the length of fabric more closely about her and stood straighter. “I never expected to be summoned—”
“She’s overcome by the honor,” said the woman next to her.
The priest seemed satisfied enough by her bold answer but Khenet detected a hint of sarcasm in her words. The third girl shot him a glance, as if daring him to say something contradictory. Biting back a smile, he shook his head slightly. I’ll not give you away.
“Let us begin,” said the priest. He pointed the staff at the child, who jumped and retreated, almost falling off the edge of the dais, before the older women steadied her. “You are excused from this duty, being too young to fulfill the requirements of the task. You may return home.”
Beads in her wig chiming, the youngest of the three bowed to him, hopped off the raised stone with a big smile, and ran to her waiting parents. Embracing her for a moment, they hurried out of the chamber as if afraid the goddess might yet change her mind.
“I’ll cast the omens to determine which of the remaining cousins is to be the chosen one of the goddess.” The priest crooked a finger at one of his underlings, who stepped forward, carrying an elaborately painted wooden box in his arms, lotus designs entwined with wasps.
The woman who’d caught Khenet’s eye cast a brief look at her trembling companion on the dais, took a deep breath and spoke. “No need for omens. I, Tiya-ami-kitara, will gladly carry out the task for Nephthys, whatever it may be.”
There were a few gasps in the chamber, but for the most part shocked silence met her offer. The man whose embrace she’d resisted started to curse and choked off the words as the nearest priests glared at him.
Now why is she volunteering? Khenet eyed the lady with interest. To escape the suitor? Out of the hippo’s mouth into the crocodile’s teeth, girl, if only you knew.
Her semi-hysterical cousin gave her a hug, weeping again, uttering her thanks in between sobs.
“Is this proper?” asked one of the older priests, glancing at some of his fellows for support. “Shouldn’t we follow the ritual—let the goddess make her choice clear?”
She has spirit, whatever her reasons. I’d rather be stuck with her than her weepy relative. “Surely everything that occurs here today is the will of the Great One,” Khenet said, reaching his own decision. “Perhaps Nephthys moves the lady to speak.”
Casting him an inscrutable look, Lady Tiya nodded. “Yes, as Pharaoh’s representative says. I-I feel the call of her will.”
The disappointed suitor took a step forward as if to utter some protest, but refrained. She didn’t even acknowledge his presence.
Khenet felt a breeze swirl around him, emanating from the closed door. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the bronze pins holding the bolts on the door to the innermost sanctum slowly turning. As he watched, one fell to the floor with a crash, followed a moment later by the other. The door drifted open very slightly, light blazing through the narrow opening and at the sides.
“The goddess is present,” said the high priest, clutching his staff so hard his knuckles went white. “Everyone is dismissed and may leave the inner sanctum, except for Lady Tiya and Pharaoh’s representative.”
Tiya gave her relieved cousin a hasty kiss as the man who’d been holding her earlier rushed forward to remove the woman from the dais. He strode out of the sanctum, carrying her, followed by their family members. Tiya’s father came to brush a kiss on her cheek before rejoining his impatient young wife and her brother, and then they too left. Khenet saw that although Tiya didn’t gaze after them, she did hastily wipe away a tear.
Murmuring prayers of praise and thanksgiving, the other priests filed out of the room.
Khenet approached and offered Tiya his help in leaving the dais. “Allow me.”
She rested her fingers on his hand just long enough to keep her balance before snatching her hand back. Marching up the stairs to the door of the innermost sanctum, Tiya held herself tall and dignified.
He restrained a sigh. If she’s as haughty and rude as all her kind, this will be a long journey. But the other woman was sure to drive me to distraction with her interminable weeping, should Nephthys have selected her.
The high priest regarded them solemnly. “We go to meet the goddess. Nephthys wishes to assess both her Daughter and the guardian.”
“I’m ready,” Khenet said, fists clenched.
Tiya just nodded.
After checking to see that everyone else had left the chamber, the priest walked to the partially open doors and flung the gilded panels wide open. Light streamed out and Khenet heard the buzzing of wasps, as if he were about to step into a hive of the angry creatures. Tiya shrank back a little, took a deep breath, and followed the priest.
Warrior of the Nile (The Gods of Egypt) Page 2
