Magic of the Nile

by Veronica Scott

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, heart pounding as she prepared to lie, to renounce the one person she wanted in her life more than anyone other than her son. “We were lovers for one night, after a mere two weeks of acquaintance. The gods blessed us with a son and that’s all, Sahure. A year has passed, life moved on and so should we. When my—my business in Thebes is concluded, Seknehure and I will return to Ibis Nome. Determining his future can wait until he’s older.”

  He drew in a deep breath. “No slightest thought of staying in Thebes? With me?”

  Shaking her head, she moved a few steps farther away. “I told you before, such a change in life is impossible for me.” And would be disastrous for you.

  “And of course you won’t tell me why you of all the people in Egypt can’t live in Pharaoh’s capital city?” Following her toward the path out of the grove, his eyes were intent on her face. “You promised me an honest explanation, Ema. What is the barrier you think we can’t surmount together?”

  “I don’t love you,” she said, forcing the words out, even though her heart was breaking. Her sorrow made the words harsh.

  His prompt answer surprised her. “And I’m not sure I believe you. My final night in Ibis, you swore you loved me, but there was some other impediment to our becoming man and wife, something keeping you in the province, unable to move to Thebes. I want the truth today, all of it.”

  “You fail to hear the truth when it’s presented to you, then.” Tyema made herself sound cold, hard as it was. “You were someone totally new in my world, a novelty, and I was the same to you. Having met the high born court ladies vying for the honor of Mistress of your House, I see this clearly. To have the future you desire, you need to marry one of them, follow your original plan. Don’t let misguided infatuation and the fact you sired a son pull you from the high road you’re destined for. Making me Mistress of your House will surely keep you from achieving your dreams of building for posterity.” She gestured at the nook they stood in, although it seemed to her for a moment the statue of the goddess had taken on a disapproving air.

  Sahure crossed the distance between them in a few strides, taking her in his arms. “Trying to save me from myself? What if I don’t want saving?”

  Averting her face, she made no other effort to break free, arms at her sides. “I wish to be driven back to the palace now. I’m done discussing this topic, and I must ask you not to raise the question again. Maybe I should request a new liaison from Pharaoh, someone who doesn’t disturb my peace, doesn’t ask for things I can’t give. The Great One gave me permission to make a change, if I was uncomfortable spending time with you.”

  Sahure released her so suddenly she nearly fell. Startled, she stared as he paced away from. When he spun around, Tyema made herself look into his face.

  Although clearly angry, he didn’t seem as upset as she would have expected. Standing with his hands on his hips, jaw clenched, he said, “If the goddess Ma’at stood before us right now and challenged you to give me your answer again, with her red feather of truth in your hand, could you? Could you swear by Ma’at you don’t love me and that’s the reason you keep refusing to consider marrying me?”

  Knowing the truth in her own heart, Tyema hesitated for a fatal second.

  Apparently her momentary weakness was all Sahure needed. Pointing his finger at her, he said, “Aha. You couldn’t swear, could you?”

  “You didn’t want to be one of my temple guards and I don’t want to live in Thebes. I can’t live in Thebes.” Desperation and sorrow made her voice quiver. She took a deep breath, feeling her chest tightening under the stress of the conversation. “Our worlds are too far apart. Even if we did love each other, there’s no bridge that can be built to make the situation work.” Tears were close to spilling now. If I start to cry, I won’t be able to stop. Fear of weeping in front of him only added to her vertigo and nausea. “Please, I have to return to the palace.”

  He came toward her as cautiously as if she were a frightened baby gazelle, poised to flee. Halting in front of her, not touching her, Sahure said in a low voice, “I feel we’re moving closer to the truth, although not there as yet, but I swear not to raise the subject again in Thebes. I give you my word of honor.”

  “Thank you.” She wiped her eyes with a corner of her shawl and sat on the bench, feeling weak at the knees.

  Sahure hunkered down in front of her, brushing her hair from her face so he could gaze into her eyes. “In exchange, I ask you not to request a new military escort. All right?”

  Surprised, she supposed he feared her asking for him to be removed from her detail would impair his standing in the eyes of Pharaoh. “Agreed. I don’t want to prevent you from seeing Seknehure freely while we’re here, so it keeps matter simpler if you’re still my escort.”

  “I’ll take you back to the palace, then.”

  She glanced at the statue of Mut one last time, wishing she could have asked the goddess for help or consolation. Mut’s serene face was so appealing. But my life and loyalty are given to Sobek and I must walk the path he sets. “May I have a moment alone here? To—to collect myself before we’re seen in public on the way to the palace?”

  “Of course. Take as long as you need. I’ll be at the chariot.” He strode away, seeming as relieved to be done with their conversation as she was.

  Tyema remained on the bench for a moment before drawing in a long, shaky breath and rising. Overcome by desire to see the lovely face of the goddess one more time, she strolled to stand in front of the statue, gazing into Mut’s serene visage. She rubbed one hand along the smooth top of the plinth where the statue stood, brushing a few windblown leaves to the ground. “I wish I could address you, Great One. I have the feeling you’d understand my dilemma more clearly than Sobek ever could, no disrespect to him.” She glanced over her shoulder but Sahure was out of sight. Turning back to the effigy, she said, “How do I make Sahure understand marrying me will ruin all his dreams? Without telling him how beset by terrors and ailments I am? I can’t speak of those things to him, the sheer embarrassment of admitting all my failings would kill me. But maybe I should, since he’ll accept no other answer?”

  The goddess was silent, not that Tyema had expected anything else. It was comforting to speak freely, here in Mut’s peaceful garden. Almost like talking to Merys. Might as well unburden myself of all my worries. “I love him, I trust him, I don’t believe he’s got anything to do with the black magic, but I can’t explain the true situation there to him either.”

  A small breeze sprang up, winding through the trees and the statues, almost like a voice murmuring words too softly to be distinct. Tyema shivered, drawing her cloak more closely around herself.

  Trust.

  Did someone speak the word aloud? Startled, she took a step back, glancing around in fear.

  As her gaze passed over the gracefully carved, outstretched wings of the goddess, she saw one gleaming feather work itself loose from the sculpture and drift ever so slowly to the ground, landing with the golden quill planted in the path, feather standing upright, vanes quivering in the slight breeze.

  Tyema recoiled. “How can this be?” The statue is carved from solid granite, I know it is.

  The breeze strengthened, giving her a push in the direction of the feather, or so it seemed. Tyema stumbled the few paces to where the uncanny plume stood. Bending over, half expecting to feel cold stone in her grasp, Tyema pulled the feather from the ground. Unable to resist, she stroked the downy softness along her cheek, closing her eyes in sheer awe. Facing Mut, she opened her eyes, drawing in a huge breath to steady her nerves. “I thank thee for this gift, Great One,” she said, looking the statue full in the face. Even if I have no clue as to the meaning or purpose of the gesture.

  There was no response, but Tyema hadn’t expected one. She tucked the feather in her pocket before crossing her arms over her chest and bowing deep in respect, backing away from Mut until she knew she was at the edge of t
he chapel.

  Sahure was waiting for her so she hastened down the path, wishing she didn’t face the daunting day ahead. The queen’s river cruise was bound to be tense, not pleasurable, even without watching all the passengers and crew for signs of black magic. An invitation impossible to avoid.

  *****

  I should have skipped this river cruise, after the stressful discussion Sahure and I shared this morning, but Pharaoh made it clear he was losing patience. And I know the Royal Wife arranged the excursion for me, to more closely observe the most favored courtiers. Tyema brushed a few errant strands of hair from her face and sighed as she examined her surroundings for the tenth time since they’d left the royal dock. And there are hours of sailing yet to endure.

  The queen’s barge was huge, elegantly appointed, with a large shaded area in the center for Ashayet and her highest ranking guests to sit and talk. Honeyed wine and fruit were served and a trio of musicians—a harpist, a flutist, and a drummer— played softly at the bow. Not happy to be on a ship again, even a slow moving pleasure barge, Tyema went closer to the stern, leaning against the carved rail, a little hidden from view by the elaborate representation of lotus flowers decorating the ship’s side. Nibbling a fig, she watched the courtiers laughing and talking. As always, her eyes were drawn to Sahure, in the middle of a group of officers and young women, the girls heavily made up, wearing the gauzy dresses that were all the rage in Thebes, colorful ribbons accenting the sheer fabric.

  Tyema clenched her hand on the rail, averting her eyes to stare at the river rather than the people. It was none of her business what he did, who he talked to. I refused any right to his attention, the night I rejected his marriage proposal and again this morning at Mut’s temple. Watching the Nile flow past as the rowers dipped their oars into the shining water, she sighed. Forcing herself to turn around again, she saw Sahure sharing a plate with Nidiamhet. Flickers of black and purple in the air around them riveted her attention. The magic was concentrated on the woman. Sekhmet’s amulet was apparently affording Sahure some protection. The sorcerer must be on this boat with us. Good. I want to be done with this hunt and free to go home. Tyema scanned the crowd surrounding the queen but at first saw nothing out of the ordinary. Then a group of people shifted as new sweetmeats were brought from below by the servants and Tyema was staring directly at Baufratet.

  The girl didn’t see her, since she was glaring at Sahure and Nidiamhet. Rubbing one hand over the other as she observed the pair, Baufratet’s face was set in petulant lines, elegantly arched brows drawn together in concentration. As Tyema watched, Sahure laughed at something his companion said and left her side to fetch more wine or food. As if stalking prey, keeping her gaze fixed on the woman she evidently perceived as a romantic rival, Baufratret crossed the deck toward Nidiamhet. A group of gossiping older ladies got between Tyema and her view of Nidiamhet and Baufratet, so she moved away from the safety of the alcove, walking closer to the edge of the deck.

  All of a sudden a violent push struck in the center of her chest, as if someone was standing in front of her, trying to knock her off the boat. There was no rail behind her at this point on the barge. Instinctively, Tyema wrapped her hand around her emerald amulet and it was as if Sobek himself put his arms around her, holding her steady on the slippery planks of the deck.

  Across the wide expanse, the two young ladies-in-waiting were wreathed in a cloud of black magic influence Tyema knew only she could see. While she watched in horror, both women were thrown off their feet by an invisible force, plunging into the Nile.

  Did the black magic rebound on them when Sobek intervened to save me? Kicking off her sandals, Tyema sprinted across the deck. Shrieking, Baufratet was clinging to the edge of the barge, feet and lower legs dangling in the river. Two officers were already working to haul her back onboard. Hooking one arm around the nearest piece of ornamental fretwork, Tyema leaned over the river and searched in the ship’s wake for Nidiamhet. The girl was nowhere in sight for a moment, then broke the surface, being carried away from the boat by the current. Clearly panicked, she was flailing her arms, eyes and mouth wide open in soundless terror.

  Taking a deep breath, Tyema jumped into the water, clutching her amulet as she called orders to the Nile crocodiles sunning themselves on the far bank. “Find the woman who fell, help me!”

  As she went under the cool surface of the water herself, Tyema heard someone else falling or diving next to her, but her focus was all for the helpless Nidiamhet. Holding her breath, opening her eyes under the water, Tyema saw the first crocodile arrowing toward her through the murky water. Reaching out, she gripped the spikes on its back. The creature immediately changed course and brought her to the surface. Craning her head, brushing clinging wet hair from her face, she saw Nidiamhet feebly attempting to swim. The girl was drifting with the current, moving perilously close to a group of curious hippos. As the crocodile carried Tyema nearer to the herd, she saw at least one baby in the cluster and knew even if Nidiamhet didn’t drown, the hippos might attack her in the belief she was endangering their young.

  In response to Tyema’s earlier orders, another crocodile came up directly under Nidiamhet, raising her out of the water, draped across its back awkwardly. Shrieking, the girl fainted. Floating like the log it often pretended to be, the crocodile awaited further commands from Tyema. Meanwhile the hippos were becoming agitated, forming a circle around the calf, facing outward, mouths stretched open in challenge, exposing their powerful teeth.

  “Ema!”

  Checking behind her, she saw Sahure in the water, swimming strongly toward her. “What in the seven hells are you doing?” he yelled.

  The crocodile supporting her rolled its gleaming eye at the new arrival but made no aggressive moves, obedient to Tyema’s command. “I’m not sure how much I can get Sobek’s creatures to do for someone else,” she told Sahure, spitting out water as the Nile lapped at her. “Or how long I can control them. We’ve got to get Nidiamhet out of the river.”

  Treading water, he eyed the hippos. “Can you summon a few more crocodiles to put themselves between the herd and us?”

  Getting a fresh grip on the spines of the animal beside her, she said, “I can try. I’ve never attempted to hold so many at once.”

  “Do that, and I’ll fetch Nida.”

  Closing her eyes, she chanted a command, calling for guardians. She felt Sahure push off, swimming to meet the crocodile carrying Nidiamhet as the animal swam lazily nearer to them. A rush of water forced her to open her eyes, watching four crocodiles knife through the waves to take up positions between her and the hippos. Hippos could kill a crocodile, she knew, and she was anxious about endangering Sobek’s children. She sent a prayer to Tawaret, visualizing the Hippo Goddess as she’d been on the night of Seknehure’s birth. Please hold your creatures in abeyance. We mean no harm to their young.

  “I’ve got her,” Sahure yelled. He was swimming with powerful strokes to Tyema, pulling an unresisting, probably unconscious Nidiamhet along on her back. The crocodile which had been assisting the woman before Sahure arrived sank beneath the Nile’s surface.

  “I’m losing control, they don’t want to be near the hippos,” Tyema shouted. Tremors ran through the crocodile she was clinging to as it flexed its muscles, twitching impatiently. She stroked its head, just behind the eye. “I only need a few more moments, please.” Blinking, the animal stilled, moving just enough to keep them afloat.

  The queen’s barge had come about and was bearing down on them. Although Tyema knew the crocodile wanted to be gone, it stayed, as did the four swimming in lazy circles between the hippos and her. “Quickly, get yourself and Nidiamhet out of the water,” she said to Sahure. “The crocodiles will protect me, take me out of harm’s way, but not the two of you.” She was tired, cold, her arms were growing weak. As if sensing her condition, the crocodile adjusted, taking more of her weight.

  A few moments later, Sahure was behind her, tugging her away from the crocodile
, which rolled its eye at her and abruptly dove, swimming down and away with a flick of the powerful tail, leaving twin eddies in the surface of the Nile for a moment. Tyema was dimly aware of Sahure holding her tightly while sailors from the barge lifted the two of them in a net out of the Nile and safely on deck. Nidiamhet was nearby, coughing up water, being fussed over by her friends and her mother.

  Baufratet was also being taken care of, weeping and lamenting her close call in dramatic fashion.

  Queen Ashayet herself brought a robe to wrap Tyema, giving her a hug, heedless of her damp and muddy condition. “How fortunate you were right there when those foolish girls fell into the river.”

  Shivering now, Tyema couldn’t speak. One or both of those women is a sorcerer. She reviewed the moments before the black magic rebounded from her protective amulet, trying to pin down which girl had been surrounded by the stronger aura, or might have made some gesture to hurl a spell. Her thoughts and memories were like the disjointed pieces of a puzzle which she was to tired to assemble, after the excitement and exertion of the time in the river.

  Sahure was rubbing her arms, holding her tight. “As soon as we get to the palace landing, I’ll have you to your rooms and into a hot bath,” he said.

  *****

  He carried her from the barge dock directly to her chambers, snapping orders at the waiting palace maids Edekh had dispatched to pour her a hot bath. Once the bathing pool had been refreshed with heated water, he banished the servants from the room. Even Renebti and the baby were sent to her chamber, so adamant was Sahure about privacy. After stripping Tyema’s muddy, damp dress from her shivering body, he stepped into the pool with her curled in his arms and lovingly bathed her, washing her hair with sweetly scented oil before wrapping her in a large towel. Afterwards he carried her to the bed. Drying himself off, wrapping a towel around his loins, he joined her on the webbed mattress, but not before yanking the heavier curtains closed to provide additional privacy. Pulling her into his embrace, he held her close.