Song of Isis

by Diana Kirk

  Anyway, he didn't care about her feelings. She'd been a one nighter and he was a lying, cheating bastard. Nothing mattered anymore. She was about to experience a new peril as a harem girl. Ugh! Just the thought turned her stomach.

  Still, her heart telegraphed a mixture of fear and anticipation. Soon she'd be in the presence of a real Egyptian pharaoh. The eleventh dynasty one, who'd restored Egypt to its original state, who'd eased the transition from the Old to the Middle Kingdom. The one whose name had been known for all of four thousand years and would continue on into perpetuity. He'd never know his mark upon history, but she'd be able to observe at least a small portion of it.

  "Come, my lady Alex. Pharaoh awaits your presence." Kensu held out his arm and led Alex up a long flight of steps where a solid gold throne glistened in the sun, blinding her. She shaded her eyes, but she couldn't make out the figure. Slowly, as she drew closer, her vision cleared and the throne took shape. Two golden lions lounged at its base and around its legs sculpted serpents intertwined until she couldn't tell animal from reptile. Two more lion heads formed an arm rest on which the bronzed arms of Mentuhotep rested.

  At the stairs' summit, Kensu prostrated himself before the throne and kissed the space directly below the monarch's sandals. He gently guided Alex to do the same, but she resisted and stared at the chiseled, regal face; straight into the eyes of the legendary pharaoh, himself.

  Mentuhotep's gaze widened, no doubt surprised by her defiance, and a hint of amused curiosity crossed his face.

  "Woman, you are right to stand." He motioned to Kensu to rise. "It is only worthy of servants to bow down before me and kiss the earth. An old and tiresome custom for Pharaoh's friends to subjugate themselves such as this." When Kensu stilled, the pharaoh leaned down and tapped the top of his head.

  His counselor glanced up and smiled sheepishly. Immediately, Kensu stood and raised his hand in greeting, reciting a long litany of titles, ending with elaborate psalms as to the pharaoh's many god-like qualities. The deep resounding quality of Kensu's voice was mesmerizing and vaguely familiar. Still, she'd never met either man before. She slanted Mentuhotep a glance beneath the shade of her hand.

  Her heart skipped. Standing to his right was Tarik, a courtly blue robe thrown casually over his shoulders and he wore a nemes cloth of spun gold. His broad pecs and corded thighs seemed darker and more defined against his pure white kilt. Her stomach tightened. Instantly, she understood all too well the jealousy of the queen.

  The pharaoh was also take-your-breath-away impressive. Regal bearing, alone, could have been enough to mark him as a king. But he wore a gleaming spun-gold kilt and robe. And his shaved head bore the twin crowns of upper and lower Egypt.

  Tarik, Kensu, and Mentuhotep were all drop-dead handsome. Apparently, this strange, exotic land spawned a vast continent of gorgeous men. Except one had already broken her heart, and she'd not let him or anyone else ever do it again.

  What had happened between the Queen and Tarik to make her so jealous? Alex would probably never know, but the queen saw her as a threat, and in ancient Egypt threats were disposed of in unusually gruesome ways.

  Dread lodged in her chest. There was so much to learn about the politics of this ancient culture. Without Tarik's skillful guidance, she'd surely perish. The memory of Tarik's touch against her heated flesh and his lips against her neck flashed through her mind. Her knees threatened to buckle.

  Stop it! Alex shook her head to clear it. She had to get out of here. She'd couldn't just stand back and allow herself to be murdered in her bed.

  From now on, neither Tarik, nor anyone else would deter her from getting home. Somehow, she'd find a way back to the future. And it had to be soon.

  So this was the miracle worker all Egypt talked about. Mentuhotep let his gaze travel over her. She seemed as small as a single lotus flower floating among the reeds. Yet, there was something in her eyes. Although they were of a delicate hue, they flashed anger, defiance, and bravery.

  Perhaps she was as his messengers had said. A goddess sent to raise one's ka from the dead. From the way Tarik watched her, there was something else, here. Mentuhotep had known his friend from the day of his birth and never once had he shown desire for such a woman. Even Mentuhotep's own whoring wife had failed to spark Tarik's interest.

  From the set of his friend's jaw and the pain in his eyes, the fair-skinned one had already taken Tarik's heart captive. A smile quirked across Mentuhotep's lips, it would be interesting to see his wife's reaction to all of this.

  Tarik spoke first. "Oh King, our master, thou art like Ra in all that thou doest, everything happens in this great land according to the wish of thy heart."

  Mentuhotep leaned forward. "Lord Tarik, chief physician and beloved friend. I am flattered, but my health is such that I do not need your presence, except to welcome your visit to my family. Is one of my wives ailing or my children? What of the heir to my throne?"

  "King of the two kingdoms and living god, your children and wives do well. I bring to you a gift...a find...a...." Tarik glanced at the woman, but she averted her gaze.

  Ah, he falters at the thought of her leaving him.

  Tarik squared his shoulders and began again. "No doubt you have heard the stories of her magic."

  "I have."

  "They are true. For I saw this miracle with my own eyes." He turned toward the woman. "I present to you the great healer, Alex Stone, the one who saved both my adopted mother and my servant. I bring her here to join your court, to enrich your power among your subjects, and to ensure your earthly form remains unharmed for eternity."

  Tarik's eyes travel the road of her form with longing. Eternity? A comely gift. It would have served Tarik better to keep her for himself. For it was apparent his friend had given his heart to her, and this gift caused him much pain, thus enriching the prize.

  But Mentuhotep was already a god. He had no need of her magic. Though, considering the greatness of Tarik's sacrifice, he must accept her.

  Tem leaned forward and whispered into his ear. "My Lord husband, I entreat you to welcome this woman with open arms. She will enrich your court."

  He turned and gazed into her deceitful eyes. What were these words this viper spouted? An entreaty to keep the woman? Tem cared not for her husband's happiness. She'd given him an heir, nothing more. From that time forward, she shared his harem without affection. Neither had she so much as given him one night of gentle satisfaction, as had his first wife. He longed for Neferu by his side. Yet, she'd been barren and unable to provide an heir, forcing him to set her aside and take another to his bed.

  "Why do you say this, wife?" He studied her. Tem's gaze darkened as if she knew he understood her purpose. She threw back her cape and motioned to the fan bearers. They hurried forward to oblige her bidding. This woman had the fish-bone of Alex Stone stuck in her craw and he would soon enjoy watching her struggle to remove it.

  "My lord's immortality means much to me."

  She smiled and tossed her braids. How arrogant. How profane. He wished her dead this very moment. Now he understood her meaning. She wanted the woman in her harem. The answer was too clear--to keep her from his friend and loyal physician's bed. Pharaoh's spies were very good. Tarik had shunned Tem's advances and now she was even more determined.

  Of one thing, he was sure. Soon a wayward knife would find the fair one's back. An asp would bite her ankle. Or an accidental sip of poison would destroy her. For the moment, he wanted nothing better than to see this farce played out to its ultimate conclusion. He bowed toward his wife. "I fear you praise me falsely, my queen. I cannot accept such a gift from Tarik."

  At once, all eyes widened in surprise. Their response provided too much excitement, too much entertainment for a single afternoon. He silently praised the gods for bringing this woman to his court. He often needed a war or even a minor battle to ease his boredom. And now, he would be entertained without spilling one drop of life.

  "My King," Tarik cried out. "Have
I offended--"

  "No. You cannot--" Queen Tem added.

  All through this, Alex remained silent. Her jaws clenched and unclenched with each passing word. It was obvious anger stirred her soul and tempered each carefully drawn breath. She was as willful as the scorpion who shared his bed. And yet, the fair one was pleasant to look upon and seemed to have none of the treachery of his deceitful wife.

  "I ask the woman, Alex Stone, what she wishes." He leaned forward expectantly to fully enjoy the reaction of the others.

  It only took a brief glance from Alex to Tarik for Mentuhotep to know the answer.

  She nodded toward him and ground out the words between clenched teeth. "I'll stay with you."

  Her voice was strange. Heavily accented, but not with Greek, or Persian, or Nubian influences. Most different from the many foreigners visiting his court. But her eyes told him everything. She already belonged to Tarik, and he to her.

  "Is it true you brought a woman back from the dead before she journeyed to the netherworld?"

  "Yes. But it is a simple manipulation. I can easily teach it to your people."

  "She is a physician in her country," Tarik added.

  "And where is this country? Is it in darkness?" Mentuhotep took her hand and examined her skin.

  "No. I--I'm from the north."

  He turned her palm up and down. "Such fairness. I doubt you would survive the sun more than a few hours."

  "I keep covered." She shaded her eyes with her free hand.

  "Then we adjourn inside. It would not do to have you burn before we sup." He rose and led her to the coolness of his throne room. Stopping, he turned and called out to his court. "Fetch my map makers and scribes. I wish to know the land of the north that brings this fair-skinned maiden to me."

  To another he said, "Prepare for a great feast. This is a day of rejoicing, for there is to be a wedding in the house of Pharaoh."

  Frowning, Tarik bowed and turned to leave.

  "Stop, Tarik, Lord of Abydos. We will celebrate the gift you have brought to me and I will honor you at the head of my table."

  "I hope you're happy." Alex snarled the words at Tarik as though they tasted bad. She'd meant it for his ears, alone. An admonishment? From a slave to her lord? Interesting.

  Tarik did not call for her death, nor did he strike her. He said nothing in return, only squared his shoulders and jutted his chin.

  An intimacy had passed between these two. How delicious. How delightful. His plan would have far reaching implications. There was anger and hate between them. But, most importantly, there was love. Mentuhotep could see it as clearly as if his scribe had placed it on a monument.

  They could scarcely look upon each other without touching and their pain was palpable. Mentuhotep puffed out his chest and smiled broadly. Ah, this conflict was such great enjoyment after the boring routine of everyday courtly duties.

  "Queen Tem."

  "Yes, my king."

  "You will take the healer to your quarters and have your servants prepare her as befits a queen. There will be a wedding feast this very evening."

  Tem's lips broke out into the broad smile of self-satisfaction.

  "As you wish, my beloved."

  Such endearments from this poisonous snake. He would well guard his own back in the days to come. For the mother of his heir had much to gain from his death. With her young son as Pharaoh, she would be allowed to reign supreme over these lands. Woe to Egypt, if that were to happen.

  No doubt, she assumed she had won. He would much enjoy this evening's celebration.

  Chapter Eight

  "HERE ARE YOUR quarters," Queen Tem said with a lift of her raven brows. "You must prepare yourself for entrance into Pharaoh's harem." She flounced around the enormous room filled with alabaster tables and gilded settees. Sheer linen drapes fluttered in the breeze and the walls were literally covered in gold.

  "I am first wife and mother of Mentuhotep's son, heir to the royal throne of Egypt. No doubt, you will be one of his lesser wives."

  Alex's gaze traveled up and down the haughty queen. Well, two could play at this game. Alex straightened her shoulders and gathered her dignity around her like a shield.

  "I can't imagine how much lesser I could get," she snapped back.

  Tem frowned as if unable to understand. "I leave you to your preparations. It is a great honor to grace Mentuhotep's court. One you should not take for granted."

  "Yeah, so I've been told." Had that bitch just threatened her?

  Tem exited with great flourish, almost trampling Seta who bowed out of her way at the last minute.

  "What a bitch!" Alex said to no one in particular. "Jeez, Seta, if this is merely a lesser room," she mimicked Tem's haughty voice. "I wonder what the great and obnoxious queen's chambers look like."

  Seta giggled her response. "Mistress, I must take you to your bath and cool your fevered temper." Her voice deepened almost to a whisper. "It will not be good to make Queen Tem an enemy. For, no doubt, she will exact a cruel revenge."

  "I'm already doomed. Did you see how she looked at me?"

  "Aye, it is a sorry start to your marriage."

  "Marriage?"

  "To our Lord and Pharaoh, Mentuhotep."

  "Yuck! I forgot for a minute. Thanks for reminding me. I'm nothing more than a prisoner. Name, rank, and serial number. That's all he'll get from me."

  Seta lowered her lashes and murmured a muffled, "I am sorry."

  A sudden flush of guilt burned Alex's cheeks. She'd been thoughtless to snap at the only friend she had in the world. She crossed to Seta and put her arm around her shoulders. "No. I'm the one who should be sorry. I had no right to take my anger out on you."

  "It is of no matter." Seta's eyes brightened in a wide smile. "Follow me. You will be refreshed." She led Alex toward a small door at the end of the room.

  "You know your way around?"

  "Nafari and I spent many seasons here. When Tarik serves his king, he brings us with him. It not only staves off the boredom of Abydos, but it is safer here. Just a few seasons past, we had to travel with him to Thebes for protection against the Herakleopolis warriors."

  "Who?"

  "Pharaoh's enemies from the north. They controlled Abydos for many years, but Mentuhotep's armies fought to free the city."

  "So that must be the war Kensu was talking about. Hmm." Alex tapped her temple. "I didn't realize Abydos was on the border between two kingdoms."

  "It is." Seta nodded her head in agreement.

  "Do you think you could find your way back to Abydos from here, if you had to?"

  "Of course." Seta eyed her cautiously. "But why do you ask such a thing?"

  Alex shrugged. "No reason." An idea flashed through her mind. Would it work? Maybe, with timing and a little luck. "I guess I'd better get cleaned up. Don't you think?"

  Seta stopped and faced Alex. "It is my greatest hope that you are not planning to escape again. Remember what happened the last time? Mighty Pharaoh is not as kind as Tarik, especially if his wife runs away. I fear he would have both our heads."

  "Seta, you worry too much. I'm not planning anything." Alex shoved her playfully. "Now, take me to the bath."

  She followed Seta down a long flight of stairs which opened onto a large pool. There, Seta removed Alex's clothing. Alex dipped a toe, then settled languorously into the tepid water

  "Ooh, this feels too good."

  Seta's ministrations on her hot, dusty body worked magic, lulling her into a relaxing state of semi-consciousness. Her mind, still painfully aware, refused to surrender the thought of escape and everything that had happened to her since she'd stumbled from the tomb played out like a video in her head.

  Why had she been chosen to be sucked back in time to ancient Egypt? Why not her father? Given the chance, he'd do anything to trade places. All his life, he'd searched for the real tomb of Mentuhotep and had been scoffed at by those who believed his body had been buried at Dier el-Bahri. But Ezekiel wanted nothi
ng more than to prove he was right before he died. And he had been right all along. It all made sense. The tomb her father had discovered was the secret tomb of Mentuhotep. It had to be. She'd even argued with Tarik about it. Fearing grave robbers, Mentuhotep was in the process of building a second, hidden tomb. The body he'd discovered and the x-rays she'd read were Mentuhotep's. She was sure of it. She couldn't wait to tell her father, if she ever got the chance.

  A twinge of sadness swelled her heart. She might never see him again. She sat up, splashing the water about. She couldn't think that way, or she'd fall apart. And she needed every ounce of courage to follow her plan.

  "Alex, try to relax a little." Seta soothed her neck and massaged her aching head, a casualty from continually retracing the events leading up to her mysterious flight into the past. Over and over, she'd asked herself why? How? Yet, the answers remained unclear.

  What had she done to deserve banishment to another century? She was a damn good physician. She'd even earned cum laude honors from medical school. And she'd had high evaluations during her residency. Although a somewhat controversial one, she'd been a respected member of Northwestern's scientific community. Theories had to be challenged and hypotheses proven. That was how academia worked. Oh, how her professors would love to ponder this predicament.

  But there was one certainty in her life. In no way was she a harem slave girl preparing for a wedding to who knew what kind of barbarian.The concept just didn't compute. When she did think about it, an uncontrollable panic filled her with the need to cover her head and scream incessantly.

  She couldn't give in to despair. Some bogus marriage in the eleventh dynasty didn't bind her once she got out of this time and back to hers. A sunny thought pushed the storm clouds from her mind. Anyhow, if she made it back to the future alive, she'd be a widow.

  She'd go along with things for the moment, see how much freedom she was allowed as a wife, and make her break at the earliest possible moment. With Seta by her side, she'd find the tomb easily.

  Another thought chilled her. If she left Seta to stay behind, they'd kill her, for sure. No, she'd simply have to bring her forward into the future, if that possibility even existed. No matter, she'd figure it out when the time came.