“It’ll be fine. Come on.” He held out his hand. She entwined her slender fingers with his broad ones as they slogged to the temple’s artificial plateau.
Worn remnants of statues lined a short walkway leading to a grand set of stairs. Some of the figures were toppled, hidden in rough grass and small bushes. “I wonder what these were?” she said as they walked into a long courtyard, lined by the ancient sentinels. “Does it seem to you that some of them are glowing?”
Khenet didn’t stop. “Trick of the moonlight, perhaps.”
A gust of rain hit them like needles, and they broke into a run up the stairs. He didn’t let Tiya pause but hurried her across the broad patio and into the shelter of the temple entrance.
As she crossed the threshold, a sheet of purple light blazed up, illuminating the curves of her body. The disc of purple stone in his amulet flared as well, cold light visible all around him. Gasping, doubled over, arms wrapped around her stomach, Tiya stopped.
He dropped the sack he’d been carrying and brought her to him. “Are you all right?”
“I—I think so. Pain shot through my entire body for a moment. What is this place?” She peered through the gloom.
“A haven, I hope, and not just from the weather.” He scooped up their scanty possessions one-handed. “Come on.”
Hesitating, she took a step in retreat, then another. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea. Even the pitiful posting houses were more inviting than this ruin.”
Khenet gently grasped her wrist with his huge hand and walked forward, drawing her with him. It was dim inside the temple although shafts of moonlight penetrated through holes in the roof as storm clouds scudded through the sky, driven by the mountain wind. Rain pattered, leaving ripples on small ponds. Great jumbled piles of rubble towered everywhere. More heard than seen, a long snake slithered away, rustling through the leaves and debris on the floor.
Tiya shuddered. “This place is eerie. We shouldn’t have come. I know this is a mistake.”
“It’ll be all right.” Khenet loosened his grip on her wrist and handed her the sacks. “Wait one moment, now we’re in here. I need to make a sacrifice.”
“Are you addled? A sacrifice to whom?” Tiya gestured at the destruction where an altar should have been. “This place is abandoned. No one will hear your petition.”
Khenet noted a relatively clear flat space to the left of the demolished altar. Striding over to it, he fumbled in the pocket of his military cloak and drew out half a hard roll. Brushing away the dust and debris with a sweep of his arm, he set the bread in the middle of the uncracked slab. Then he took their wineskin out of his pack and dribbled twelve drops onto the stone in a circle around the roll. “I ask the powers dwelling here to grant us sanctuary.”
Tiya seemed uncharacteristically skeptical as she picked her way through the rubble to join him. “This is a waste of time. We should be finding somewhere less drafty and more secure. Drier. Maybe there’s an intact outbuilding.”
Khenet put a finger to his lips. “Shh. Listen, do you hear something?”
Tiya tilted her head. “Music?”
“And voices,” he answered.
She spun in a circle, hands out. “Other people are here, in this deserted place?”
Khenet realized that the light was growing stronger in the sanctuary. The murmuring voices became more distinct for a moment, speaking a strange language, then faded away. Reaching out, he yanked Tiya closer to him, drawing his sword.
“You were not invited to this sacred refuge,” said a voice in crisp Egyptian, coming from behind them. The pair whirled as one, Khenet moving in front of Tiya protectively. Although the inner portion of the temple now glowed with light bright enough to reveal faded wall frescoes, Khenet saw no one.
The invisible questioner spoke again. “Your presence disturbs those who seek to remain apart. Why have you come?”
“We ask for sanctuary in the home of Amanuet, for the span of one night.” Feeling a bit foolish, he addressed his remarks to the empty space directly in front of them.
“Who asks?” Now the voice came from somewhere to the left.
He pivoted. “I am Khenet, son of Khenamir. I am the last man of my race.” He held out his arm, with the carnelian amulet uppermost. A flash of light sparked off the surface, creating a mini rainbow for a breath or two. The purple glow spread from the inside of the woven strands, where the hidden gemstone lay. “I keep the old ways, the worship of Tla’amu.”
A shaft of light broke off from one of the spears of moonlight. Sparkling streams of silver luminescence circled Khenet and Tiya once, twice, arrowing skyward as if to rejoin the moon before coalescing into a figure, coming to stand directly in front of Khenet. Stifling a shriek, Tiya moved closer to him.
He couldn’t make out the face, but the being was female in form.
The apparition pointed one delicate hand at Tiya. “Your companion doesn’t worship Tla’amu and doesn’t know Amanuet.”
“No, true enough,” Khenet agreed, sliding his sword into the scabbard. Weapons won’t do me any good in this place. “She’s a daughter of a granddaughter to Amanuet.”
The figure of light blew apart into winking sparkles and transformed yet again, becoming a hulking warrior twice the size of Khenet. “The kinship you claim is threadbare, attenuated by time beyond your imagining. Your woman has no call on us. But you’re the last of your line, which counts for something.”
Holding out his hands, palms up in supplication, Khenet said, “All I ask is a safe place to spend the night, to recover our strength for challenges ahead.”
Tiya tugged at his sleeve. “What’s going on?” she whispered.
“Trust me,” he whispered.
“Most who pass by here scurry in fear. The few who venture inside are rapidly daunted. Or they die.” The being of light stopped speaking to them and tilted its head, as if listening to the ghostly music. Becoming discordant, the melody swelled, crashing to a loud climax of drums and horns.
Khenet clapped his hands over his ears, saw Tiya do the same. The apparition morphed into a lion-headed horse with wings, bowing a heavy head to them. “The decision has been made. One night. A gift of one night, in recognition of your loyalty to Tla’amu. You did, after all, make a proper sacrifice where none have been rendered for long ages. And you are the last man of Avsarum, whose people were of this land many eons ago. You may have until the second hour after sunrise within these walls. Protection from all threats, earthly and unearthly, as you request. You must depart at the appointed hour.”
Khenet nodded. Better than I dared to hope. He tightened his grip on Tiya’s hand. “Absolutely.”
“You’ve disturbed those who own this place enough already, brought memories of things long forgotten, of duties surrendered,” the voice chided. The glowing golden creature winked out and was replaced by a stately silver gazelle. The animal swept its diamond-tipped antlers to the right. “Follow me.”
They walked across the rubble-strewn floor, following the drifting creature of light. A few times Khenet blinked as he caught a glimpse of another reality overlaid on the ruins, a vision of a temple full of celebrants, feasting, singing—unaware of the intrusion he and Tiya represented. He thought he understood words here and there, sung with the lilt of his own dead language. Maybe I really have come home, home to where my people lived at the dawn of time. His vision blurred and he blinked hard to clear it. He walked more slowly, pausing, tempted beyond reason to forsake his quest and go join the revelers. The call was almost a physical compulsion. They must be my people for they speak my language. Why do I need to die for the Egyptians when I could slip into the world this temple touches? A world where I belong?
Tiya squeezed his hand, crowding close to him. “What’s the matter? Why have you stopped?”
It was as if he’d been
doused in ice water. Shaking like a dog shedding raindrops, he smiled for her, the desire to abandon his quest, to abandon her, fleeing his mind. “The song is so beautiful, haunting.”
“I barely hear it,” she said. “Discordant to my ears.”
The gazelle paused, transforming into a lioness composed entirely of light. A beam shot out from its eyes, illuminating an archway directly in front of them. “The chamber within will be yours. None will bother you. For your part, you must not seek to learn any more of the mysteries contained in the temple. The building guards a portal to powers and places you humans are denied.” A low growl vibrated from the throat of the lioness. She bared glowing ruby fangs, dripping silver saliva to the floor. “No further sacrifice or plea will be entertained.”
“We understand. Thank you.” Khenet stepped past the lioness, through the archway, drawing Tiya after him. Descending a flight of rough-hewn stone stairs, they found themselves in a passageway whose walls sparkled with gemstones and glowing minerals, creating enough light to read a papyrus by. Shimmering aquamarine light shone at the far end of the tunnel, and Khenet walked in that direction. He could no longer hear the music or the enticing voices, which was a relief.
“Do you trust the creature who guided us here?” Tiya whispered. “It’s all so strange, like a dream or a mirage—I fear a trap of some kind.”
He paused, taking her in his arms, free of the fear of discovering he was holding the goddess by mistake. “This is a place of my people, of my gods. Even though it’s many centuries old, some beneficent power still clings to the walls.” He gestured at the nearest gemstones lighting their way. “Magic, I grant you, but real enough for us tonight. What you found discordant and disturbing was warm and welcoming to me. Almost too welcoming, but not in the way of a trap. Or if it was a lure, your voice broke the spell they were weaving.” He lifted her hand to his lips, dropping a kiss into her palm, which made Tiya smile.
She went on her tiptoes to kiss him. “Anywhere that Nephthys can’t find us is a miracle.”
He hugged her close to him, thinking she must be cold and wet. He needed to get her somewhere warm soon. “We have protection from all threats tonight, even your less-than-benign goddess.”
“Then we shouldn’t waste a moment of time,” Tiya answered, taking his hand again.
Together they walked to the end of the tunnel, finding themselves on a rocky platform above a room from a fantastical scribes’ tale. An oblong aquamarine pool glowed in the center of the cave, surrounded by soft rugs, thick towels and fresh clothing. A feast had been laid out on a table off to the side, and a large bed sat partially concealed behind gold and white curtains. Steam wafted from the pool. Golden oil lamps set with gems and torches held aloft by finely carved stone lions illuminated the far end of the room.
Alerted by some subtle change in the air behind them, Khenet turned to find he now faced a solid wall, decorated with four black symbols in a language he didn’t recognize burned into the stone. The impression it gave was one of warning. There was no longer any exit to the temple. Across the chamber below, across from the pool, a passageway led off to the left.
“Stay here a moment.” He leapt down the stairs, jogged across the chamber and into the corridor. As he hoped, night sky and open ground waited at the end. Sheets of rain blew across the opening. Careful not to come anywhere near the doorway, he reversed his steps and returned to the main room where he had left Tiya. “We can get out this way, when we’re ready, in the morning.” He swung his cloak off his shoulders and unbuckled his sword belt.
Hesitantly, cautious on the stone stairs, Tiya made her way from the entrance above to the pool, then knelt on the soft carpet laid there and dipped her hand into its inviting water. She sank onto her heels with a sigh of sheer pleasure. “Warm. Oh, I want a bath. How is this possible? Are we dreaming?”
“I believe it’s real enough.” Khenet walked over to the laden table, tore off a piece of the cooked fowl and bit into it. “Roasted to perfection.” He pivoted on his heel as he chewed the well-done meat, taking in all the details of the room that had been prepared for them. No effort had been spared by their unseen hosts to make them welcome. The furnishings were those a pharaoh might treasure and if they stayed a week he and Tiya couldn’t hope to eat all the rich food set out.
“Khenet?” There was alarm in her tone.
“What?” He dropped the quail on the platter and stepped away from the table, his hand going to his dagger.
“How can this be?” Tiya’s eyes were wide, frightened. “What sorcery have you done?”
“What do you mean? What’s wrong?” He was by her side in a heartbeat.
Showing him her wrist, she struggled to get the words out. “My mark of Nephthys. It’s gone.”
“And...the other mark?” he said in a low voice, watching her face.
She put a hand to undo the gemmed clasp of her dress but paused, her face set in troubled lines. Biting her lip, she said, “I—I’m afraid to look. I want to be free of her with all my heart, even if only for one night.” Tiya took a deep breath. “Can the spells your old gods are weaving possibly be of such strength?”
“I believe they are. I pray they are.” Khenet kissed her forehead. “Shelter from the rain and food to eat were not the only comforts I hoped for, my lady, if I may be so bold.” He glanced over his shoulder at the inviting bed, heaped with striped pillows, fine sheets and exotic furs. “I believe the temple spirits read the deepest desire of my heart, to be able to show you my feelings tonight. I am not good with words—I’m no glib noble or scribe.” He placed one hand under her chin, gently raising her gaze to meet his. “You must know how much I’ve desired you these past weeks?”
With a nervous laugh, blushing, Tiya said, “But you said Nepthys offered you my body and you refused.”
“Your body is not you. I want you, Tiya-ami-kitara.” He kissed her forehead again. “The person.” His fingers brushed her breast through the clinging fabric. “The heart and the soul.”
She shut her eyes and drew in a long breath, almost a sob. “I want the same, may your gods grant us the chance.”
“They have.”
His eyes locked on hers, Khenet reached out to unfasten the clasps at the shoulder seam of her dress, lowering the neckline of her gown until her breasts were revealed. “Was the other mark here?” he asked, brushing the back of one hand lightly across her silky skin.
She licked her lips nervously and nodded as his hand slid lower to cup her breast, his thumb rubbing her nipple gently. She tilted her head, closing her eyes, and he nuzzled her neck, caressing her breast in slow languid circles. “Have you truly freed me from Nephthys?” she whispered.
“For one night only.” He captured her lips and kissed her.
Tiya broke off the kiss, one hand pushing at his chest. “It’s not possible—this must be another dream. Perhaps she’s testing me. The Great One is going to come and punish us.” Ineffectually she tried to escape him.
Khenet pulled her against his broad chest and kissed her forehead. “This place belongs to one who came before, one who was pure power in her time. Amanuet. She gave birth to the grandmother of Nephthys, so Nephthys has no foothold here, no ability to affect us within these walls.”
“How did you know about this place? About the magic?”
“I told you, my tribe worshipped Tla’amu, the Old God who came even before Amanuet. My god and his kin created the world, or so the legends say. When I learned about this temple from ancient scrolls in pharaoh’s library, I hoped here I might be able to shield us from Nephthys, at least temporarily. I saw another map in Dendaret that confirmed my guess, since the cartouche marking the temple’s location matched my tattoo. You and I need to talk freely—we need to make some kind of plan for what will happen when we reach the Viper Nome. I need to know what transpired that day in Zauimu, if you�
��ll tell me.” He tipped her face up to his with one hand under her chin. Staring into her eyes, his own wide and serious, he vowed, “I’m determined to get you through this alive but I need every shred of information.”
“If you’re sure we’re safe from Nephthys here, then I’ll be only too happy to share what I learned in Zauimu. I have information from Isis herself,” Tiya said.
“Isis? The queen of the Great Ones meddles in this affair too?” Khenet held her tighter for a moment. “Does she give us hope? Or more despair?”
“Hope. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you what I’d done, where I went, but Isis specifically warned me that Nephthys would learn anything I spoke aloud.” Tiya looked at him. “Would you have taken me to the temple of Isis that day if I’d asked you to escort me, instead of deceiving you?”
“I will regret to my dying day the words I spoke to you in Zauimu,” he said. “I was so angry and so worried, and then when I found you, your refusal to explain—”
“We agree on the necessity of talk. But why do I have the feeling conversation will be difficult to concentrate on just now?” Her hand skimmed down his stomach, touched the iron rod of his cock and tentatively caressed the length of the shaft through the linen.
He shivered under her touch and hugged her closer, grinding his hips into hers. “What I want most is to make love to you. I want you to be mine.”
“And you to be mine,” she answered, her eyes shining. “I’ve longed for nothing else.” A shy smile curved her lips, and she looked appreciatively at his cock. “I’m not a dancing girl. I won’t know how to please you.”
He turned her head back to him gently. “Shh, my love. Tonight is for your pleasure. If you’re happy, then I will be as well.” He shook his head. “Don’t worry about anything. We have all the time in the world. Come, let us take this bath you were wishing for a few moments ago.” He untied the silk sash at her waist and slid the wrinkled linen dress from her body to pool at her feet while she stood blushing before him. He reveled in the sight of her womanly curves, soft skin gleaming in the torchlight. “Beautiful, you’re so beautiful.” Khenet cupped her breast before running his hand slowly down her belly and through the soft curls below. “Your skin is like the velvet of a peach.” Shucking his leather harness, Khenet unhooked his kilt, let it fall to the carpet, kicked it away. He reached for the fastening of his loincloth.
Warrior of the Nile (The Gods of Egypt) Page 15
