“Thank you.” Sahure had misgivings about the entire situation, without being able to identify the source of his unease. “It’s kind of you to offer, Nidiamhet, but the child knows his cousin and will be less upset in familiar arms.” He transferred Seknehure to Renebti, who hugged him close as she edged a few steps away.
Nidiamhet laid her hand on his arm. “Of course. I understand.” Waving a graceful hand at the bedroom, she said, “I’ll be glad to sit with Lady Tyema, make sure she’s well tended during the night, help in any way I can.”
“You might be sickening yourself, Lady Nidiamhet,” Edekh said before Sahure could say anything. “You were in the Nile yesterday too.”
Laughing she shook her head, slipping her arm around Sahure’s waist and leaning close. “No, I’m fine, I assure you. Lord Sahure rescued me with no thought for himself.”
His skin crawling at the casual way she was touching him in this inappropriate moment, Sahure kept his temper with an effort. As if now Tyema has fallen ill, I’d be happy to move on to another woman. Removing her arm from his waist, Sahure took Nidiamhet by the elbow and escorted her to the door. “I’m grateful to you for bringing Tyema safely back to the palace. We can’t ask more of you.”
She had sense enough not to argue with him. “You’ll keep me informed how she does?”
He nodded. Nidiamhet went on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “I’m so sorry, Sahure, I know she means a great deal to you. May the gods bless her.” She slipped out the door before he could say anything else.
Rubbing his cheek as if to erase the unwanted kiss, he stalked to the bedroom, where the doctor was just completing his examination. “Well? What’s your diagnosis?”
The doctor pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fever of unknown origin.”
“Lacking any shred of medical training, I could have written that papyrus,” Sahure said, frustrated. “What can be done for her?”
Apparently used to dealing with irate family members, the doctor merely shrugged. “I’ve given her something to relieve the symptoms and left you a packet of herbs to mix into another dose in the middle of the night. Frankly, she’ll have to be watched closely. Prayers must be offered to the appropriate deities. Try to get her to drink water at any opportunity.”
Sahure gazed at the pale, unconscious figure of his beloved and searched his heart in vain for hope.
“Don’t hesitate to summon me if there’s any change,” the doctor said, packing up his scrolls and potions. “I’ll return in the morning to check on her.”
Carrying the baby on her hip, Renebti came to peer around Sahure as the doctor bowed and left. “What are we going to do, my lord?”
“Pharaoh and the queen have offered any assistance you desire,” Edekh said. “Her majesty regrets she can’t come in person, but Pharaoh has forbidden her to risk exposure to this virulent fever.”
Sahure sat on the edge of the bed, taking one of Tyema’s limp hands in his, alarmed at how hot her skin felt to his touch. Propping her up with one arm, he poured a mug of water from the pitcher and held it to her lips. Encouraged by the fact she drank a few sips even though her eyes didn’t open, he had a thought. “Can we have two of the palace maids assigned to help us care for her?” He smoothed her tousled hair away from her face.
“Of course. And the wet nurse will be brought to you the moment she arrives, even if it be in the middle of the night.” Edekh frowned. “I wish there was more to be done.”
“When I was sick with fever and spots last year, my mother put cooling rags on my forehead,” Renebti offered.
“We’ll try the suggestion. We’ll try any remedy, no matter how farfetched,” Sahure said, fists clenched. “When the maids get here, we can give her a refreshing bath.”
“I’ll send two of the most senior serving girls right away. Let me know if there’s anything else.” Edekh bowed and left them alone.
Renebti leaned close, her voice lowered. “I didn’t want to speak of this while anyone else was here, but there’s something seriously amiss, my lord.”
“What? What do you mean?”
“Her amulet from the Great One Sobek, where is it?” Renebti’s eyes were wide and her voice shook ever so slightly. “Aunt Tyema never takes it off.”
Startled, chagrined he hadn’t noticed, Sahure took another look. “I’ll talk to Nidiamhet tomorrow, but perhaps the chain was broken somehow, or the amulet fell when they placed her in the litter. I’m sure the Great One will give her another.” Gazing at Renebti’s face, so youthful under the ruined makeup, he saw again how frightened she was. What she needed to hear right now was reassurance she’d done the right thing and encouragement that Tyema would recover. “I didn’t get a chance to thank you for sending for me so promptly. I’m grateful.”
Renebti blushed, lowering her eyes for a moment, shifting Seknehure on her hip. “I knew my aunt would want you in charge of her care, and of your son. I couldn’t win an argument with Lady Nidiamhet, her being a grand court lady, couldn’t do more than delay her intentions at best, but I knew you’d agree with me.”
The odd choice of words caught his attention. “Argument?”
Hugging his son close, Tyema’s niece frowned. “She wanted to take the baby away, sir, to keep him safe, she said. I know Aunt Tyema would never agree, no matter how sick she was. You’re an entirely different matter, being his father.”
What in the name of Set’s teeth would make Nidiamhet believe my son should be removed from his closest female relative other than his own mother, and given into her care? She has no experience with babies and no right to take custody of my son. Disturbed, he was glad he’d followed his instincts to keep the woman from participating further in nursing Tyema. Nidiamhet undoubtedly meant well, with a healthy portion of wanting to make herself appear helpful and gracious in his eyes, but he’d no time for games.
*****
Why am I lying on cold rock? Tyema rolled over, arms and legs numb, as if she hadn’t moved in quite awhile. She opened her eyes and immediately blinked them shut again against the odd, brassy yellow glare all around her. She heard the quiet hiss and sizzle of fire. Gathering her determination, she sat up and opened her eyes again. She was sitting on a cold stone ledge, surrounded by an odd cage made from ropes of fire burning without consuming itself. The lattices were too narrow for her to safely climb through, but she could see a vast cavern stretching into the distance.
Where did Nidiamhet send me and what’s going to happen to me next? Instinctively she reached for the comfort of her amulet, before remembering how the sorceress had pulled it from her neck. Tyema sent a prayer to Sobek, in the slim hope he might hear her, but there was no sign the Great One was listening. Massaging her stiff calf muscles for a moment first, she rose, examining her surroundings. The ledge beneath her bare feet was flat, not even a pebble she might use as a weapon. The fire cage was about eight feet in diameter and reached above her head, coming to a point. Tyema saw no door, no gap where she might squeeze through.
“How long was I unconscious?” she said, wanting to hear her own voice. There was an unpleasant echo, bouncing from the rocky walls of the cavern. Tyema bit her lip, deciding against further speech. Checking her arms and legs, she saw the names Nidiamhet had somehow branded her with no longer disfigured her skin. She was wearing the sleeveless white linen dress she’d had on at the luncheon, although missing the shawl and the embroidered overskirt.
No amulet, no way to call upon Sobek. Refusing to surrender to despair, Tyema searched the cell more closely in the light of the fire, but there was nothing on the ledge. Rubbing her arms, she realized she wasn’t hungry or thirsty—her body made no demands of her at all. So am I even here in body? Or is this my eternal ka imprisoned in this place? Fear swept through her, causing her to tremble and grow dizzy.
Thoughts of Seknehure growing up without her poured through her mind, bringing anger and defiance in their wake. No. Defiantly she straightened her spine. “I won’t be afraid. No matter w
hat happens here, I refuse to make it easy for whoever comes to kill me. My fear is their weapon. I’ll find a way to get back to my child. And Sahure.” I still have my songs and they have power, even if Sobek isn’t listening. Maybe someone else is. Might there be a guardian of the innocent here I could appeal to? She sang, one of the oldest songs she knew, a hymn to Mother Nile herself, praising the power of the floods. The tune gave her strength and hope, vibrating in her bones, echoing off the eerie walls around her as if she was but one member of a sacred choir. When she opened her eyes as the song came to an end, she thought the fires making up the cage might be flickering somewhat. Searching her repertoire for another hymn of equal antiquity and power, she stuck her hand in her pocket, only to feel her fingers brushing something.
Amazed, she brought out the white feather from Mut’s chapel. The vane gleamed with a pure white glow. Tyema contemplated the gift. Might this carry some magic I can use? I know I left this in my keepsakes box at the palace before going to that cursed woman’s home, so how it got in my pocket—She ran her finger over the quill, astounded at the sharpness of the point, which she hadn’t noticed before. A weapon, then. Feeling a bit encouraged, she slid the lovely soft feather through her fingers before hiding it in her pocket. For all I know I’m being watched. No need to reveal my slight advantage.
Settling on a new song, equally old and powerful as her first selection, Tyema launched into a full voiced rendition. This time she kept her eyes open as she sang the praises of the oldest gods, Sobek among them, who had created the world in the before-times. The flame bars of her prison flickered and dimmed each time she named another of the most primeval deities. Stepping closer to the odd enclosure, she directed her song to one area of the latticework and was gratified to see the colors growing dark, as if the fire was being smothered by her voice.
I might be able to crawl out, if I can make even a small hole. She refused to consider what might happen after escaping from the cage. Time enough for those worries later. Midway through the third song, Tyema saw the section of the cage she was concentrating on go dark, the flames winking out. They sputtered for a moment and then black ashes rained down on the ledge. Still singing, if a bit distractedly, Tyema got on her knees and crawled through the hole. Safely on the other side, she stopped the song in mid-note. Walking away from her prison, she craned her neck to examine the possibilities in all directions. The ledge was one in a long series, she discovered, so close together she could easily hop from one to the next.
But do I want to travel in that direction? Although no flaming cages sat on any of the ledges as far as she could see, the feeling of being in a prison remained. Tyema leaned over to see what lay below the ledge. Full of shadows, the cavern was dimly lit by a glow emanating from pale veins in some of the rocks, which was enough for her to realize the drop to the cavern floor wasn’t far. Huge stalagmites and stalactites made an obstacle course in all directions, although Tyema couldn’t identify any obvious destination. There was a glow in the distance to the west so she decided to go there, for lack of anything better to try. Maybe it’s daylight and I can escape this place.
But even as the comforting thought flitted through her head, she knew in her bones Nidiamhet hadn’t physically placed her in a cave.
The ledge shook beneath her feet, vibrating. The remaining flames of the cage danced and settled, before wavering again as another impact hit. Not an earthquake. As if something large is coming in this direction. Tyema went to the edge of the stone shelf and awkwardly climbed over, hanging by her fingertips for a moment, gathering her courage, when the next tremor knocked her loose. As she fell, she heard a voice roaring in anger. Stunned for a moment by the impact of her fall, she rolled onto her back and found herself looking into a face from a nightmare—vaguely human, drool dripping from fanged yellow teeth, bulging red eyes glaring at her. Screaming, she backed away, rising to her feet and dodging behind the nearest stalagmite.
Were those tentacles it was waving? Shuddering, trying to catch her breath, Tyema peeked around the stone pillar, ducking back before the demon could see her. Even more hideous than I thought. Trying to stay in the shadows, she flitted toward the next stone formation, tripping on the loose gravel underneath her feet and falling. The ground shook as the demon jumped from the ledge to follow her, bellowing, “I’ll sniff you out, human. It’s been a long time since sacrifices were sent from above, and I haven’t traveled all this way only to be cheated of your sweet liver.”
Needing no extra encouragement, Tyema ran to the next stalagmite, but she could tell from the creature’s pounding footsteps, it was gaining on her. Maybe it sees better in the dark than I do. She leaned her head on the rock for a moment.
“I think you want to come out,” the demon said. The echoes in the cave made it seem the creature was right in front of the jagged rocks sheltering Tyema. “Fighting me isn’t the wisest idea right now. My master has been promised your ka.”
She bit her lip and tried to quiet her breathing.
Lowering its voice and injecting a note of cunning, the creature said, “You’re not the only one sent here by the would-be sorceress.”
Tyema’s thoughts flew to her beloved. Sahure? But why would Nidiamhet curse him? She wants to marry him, be Mistress of his House. Maybe he found out about her treachery—
A baby’s cry sent chills through her entire body. Could the wretched bitch have gotten her hands on Seknehure as well? Sent his ka here?
“No, not my child!” She ran from her hiding place in the direction of the sound, all her thoughts on protecting Seknehure.
A tentacle as big as the largest desert cobra wrapped itself around her waist, squeezing the breath from her lungs and she was carried into the air. Kicking and tearing at the scaled appendage as she was lifted from her feet, Tyema came face to face with the demon that’d captured her.
“Where’s my child? Don’t you dare hurt my child,” she said furiously.
The demon peered at her with its rheumy red eyes. “I can speak with many voices, foolish human. The one who sent you here told us you were a mother, for mothers have additional energies my master enjoys feasting upon.” Throwing its head back, the demon wailed in an uncanny imitation of a baby’s cry, rapidly changing into a hiccupping laugh as the demon’s shoulders shook with mirth. “I needed no other snare. A mother will always sacrifice herself for the babe. But there’s no child here, more’s the pity.”
Furious with herself for having been lured out of hiding, terrified at what might happen next, Tyema closed her eyes, breathing a silent prayer to Sobek, the appeal somehow becoming a plea to Mut. Then, opening her eyes again, she spoke to the demon, which was carrying her tightly wound in its tentacles, a few feet off the ground, as it headed toward the glowing light she’d hoped might offer escape from the nightmare. “Please, let me go. The Great One Sobek would reward you richly for your mercy, I promise.”
Blinking its eyes, the demon laughed. “Save your breath, human. I’m a creature of the god Qemtusheb and answer only to him. I’ve no use for rewards from any other being of power.”
“Where are we going?” Tyema grasped at straws, for any information about her fate. Thoughts of the stiletto-tipped feather in her pocket were a slight comfort. I’d rather kill myself than die at a demon’s command.
Her captor glanced at the cavern surrounding them. “We don’t use this area, not for centuries now. Too close to where the newer gods hold sway. I’m taking you to the current arrival point for sacrifices. Someone is meeting us there. I hope he’s in the mood to share.” The last was said almost as an afterthought. “I’m doing all the hard work, taking the risks, coming here to collect you.” He shook her slightly, as if his current toil was all her fault. “We wouldn’t have responded to this clumsy summons, except you’re a priestess and close to Pharaoh.”
She closed her eyes, sickened at the idea of waiting in the cage of fire forever, sentenced to prison for eternity at Nidiamhet’s whim. The idea the schem
er would have failed to gain the power she sought in return for Tyema’s ka was small consolation. The first chance the demon gives me, I’m using the feather to gain my freedom from this nightmare. Better to be a shade condemned to roam the Afterlife aimlessly forever than a pawn in the grasp of the enemy god.
Chapter Ten
It had been a long night, followed by a depressing day, during which Tyema never once awoke, never stirred from the position they’d arranged her in, not even when the baby was brought and Renebti attempted to place him in her arms. Sahure and the maids bathed her fever-wracked body in cool, refreshing water twice, again to no effect. He found the most frightening aspect of her illness was how still and quiet she lay in the bed. Almost as if she isn’t really there, this is a doll or a statue, not a person.
He tried to shake off the bleak thoughts as the sundial in the garden outside Tyema’s bedroom measured the passage of hours. Meals were brought and removed. Pharaoh and the queen sent their good wishes. The court physician paid another visit, with no results. Nidiamhet visited twice, although Sahure wouldn’t allow her into Tyema’s presence. Later, she sent a bouquet of flowers Sahure couldn’t bring himself to put in his beloved’s room, sweet as their perfume was. He gave the blossoms to one of the maids, with instructions to destroy it.
He knew he was probably doing Nidiamhet an injustice, but more and more the fact Tyema had been stricken with this strange illness at her home weighed on him and the sight of the woman’s beautiful face, perfectly adorned with cosmetics, only produced unreasoning anger in his heart. When asked, Nidiamhet claimed no knowledge of the missing amulet, and later said her home had been searched roof to subfloor with no result. He didn’t believe her report, either.
Finally, as the second night fell with no improvement in Tyema’s condition, Edekh prevailed upon him to seek his own chambers for a few hours of rest. “You can’t do her any good if you fall ill yourself.”
Magic of the Nile Page 28
