Tyema stumbled, the force of her fall sending her sprawling headlong and knocking Sahure to his knees. Idimuuzul vaulted from his saddle to capture Tyema by the arm as she struggled to her feet. “I have you now, bitch, and you’ll not escape again.”
With a scream of pure rage, Tyema brought her free hand up, holding what appeared to be a white knife with a gold hilt. She plunged the weapon into the demon lord’s eye, burying the blade to the hilt in his skull. Cursing with power enough to set the ground quaking beneath their feet, Idimuuzul staggered away, holding his face. Grabbing Tyema, Sahure yanked her in the direction of the lake.
Hunched over, falling to his knees, the demon roared, “You may have escaped me this day, mortals, but you’ll never get out of the underworld now. Wander long enough, grow careless, and we might meet again. You won’t survive a second encounter with me.”
Still running, Sahure said, “You had a weapon all this time? What was that?”
“A gift from Mut—I’ll explain later. What are we going to do?” Tyema was breathing hard, barely moving now, and he had to reduce his pace to match hers.
Impatiently he swept her into his arms and kept going. “I don’t know, but we need to get as far away from the demons as possible. Will your god aid us?”
“I can’t call upon Sobek for help,” she said. “Not without my amulet.”
Ignoring the pain in his tired legs, he forced himself to run at a steady pace. Idimuuzul might change his mind and give pursuit after all. “You’re sure the god won’t hear you without it?”
“Not here. Beside the Nile maybe, if he was listening. I tried, when I first woke here, in the fire cage.”
He asked the question uppermost in his mind. “Are they pursuing us?”
She checked the cavern behind him. “No. I see nothing but the lake and the statues. How do we get back to the place we belong? Are we doomed to roam the Afterlife as exiles? Will Sekhmet help us?”
Sahure slowed and stopped, letting her slide down his body to stand on her own feet, steadying her as she got her balance. “The fire of the amulet was my final gift from Sekhmet. She made the limits of her assistance clear. I hope the portal she created still exists, if we can only get to it.”
Tyema gestured at the body of liquid flame beside them. “This— this is the Lake of Fire, the one the Book of the Dead tells of?”
He barely glanced at the barrier. “Apparently.”
Brow wrinkled in thought, she asked, “Was it still night when you came into this realm?”
He tried to remember. “Yes, why?”
“Ra’s Boat of the Million Years might still be on this side of the lake, then.”
Astonishment kept him silent for a moment before responding to her remark. “Are you proposing we try to stowaway on the Great One Ra’s sacred boat?”
She shrugged. “Why not? The Mandjet would take us to the other side, where the god starts the day. It’s as mad an idea as anything else we’ve endured in this realm.”
“I’ve never heard Ra carries anyone other than gods as passengers on his daily course with the sun.”
“We can be the first mortal passengers, then,” she said with a little smile that faded despite her best effort. “I don’t know what else to try, do you? I guess if our bodies die in the real world, Pharaoh might give us each a proper funeral. Then our hearts could receive Judgment and our souls might be released from wandering in these fringes of the Afterlife forever, allowed to pass into the blessings of the duat. But I want to live. I want to see our son grow up.” She glanced at him. “You were so brave, coming into this hellish place to save me. I’m sorry the rescue may have doomed you to share my fate.”
“Let’s just do our best to get out of here,” he said. “Do my eyes deceive me or is there something up ahead?”
Peering into the hazy distance, then rubbing her eyes and staring some more, she nodded. “Maybe it’s the ship.”
He took her hand and they broke into a slow run again. A few moments later he could clearly see the ship of the sun god, pulled up on shore and sitting empty, waiting for its moment to sail to the other side of the lake, in preparation for the next day’s journey across the sky. As they came closer, he realized the boat was pulled up onto the black sands.
Built of gleaming cedar, whose sharp clean smell cut through the fetid air on the lakeshore, the craft was more of a barge, flat bottomed, without mast or sail. Sahure eyed the trim lines of the boat with appreciation. No sails were needed. Fitting. Where Ra travels there is no wind. The prow was taller than two men, rising straight up, ending in a carved bouquet of giant lotus blossoms, painted in bright blue and red with gold ribbons tied around the graceful stem. At the stern was a similar carving, curving protectively over the small cabin. The ship was more than sixteen cubits in length, with six pairs of long, sweeping oars. A helmsman would normally be stationed at the stern, manning the rudder. The workmanship was astoundingly good, the planks in the hull joined together smoothly.
The gangplank had been left in place when the god Ra and his party departed, to transfer to the Mesektet or evening boat, which would even now be carrying the Great One on his perilous rounds of the underworld, heading for the glorious rebirth of morning over the Nile.
“If we don’t try this, we may never see our son again,” Tyema said as they walked along the boat toward the gang plank.
He glanced at her. “Are you trying to convince yourself or me?”
She laughed. “Both. I hate to travel by boat, as you know.”
Dutifully he chuckled at her small joke, glad she could still find anything humorous. “If we allow ourselves to be exiled here, whoever sent you to be a sacrifice triumphs. I’m not going to allow the sorcerer to win, gods willing,” he said, hand on the hilt of the sword as if taking a vow.
Tyema laid her hand over his and squeezed gently. “Saving ourselves may not be so simple.”
“Best we don’t discuss the matter here,” he said. Drawing a deep breath for the sheer audacity of what they were trying to do, Sahure stepped onto the gangplank. He waited a heartbeat, making sure he wasn’t going to be blasted for the trespass, then offered his hand to Tyema. “We can’t delay. No telling how soon the boat will depart.”
She walked beside him, up the shiny black ramp, stepping onto the deck of the Mandjet together. He drew Tyema toward the cabin at the stern. “We mustn’t be seen. I doubt if whoever comes to sail the barge back across the Lake bothers to check the cabin.”
“Who would stowaway on the god’s boat?” Tyema laughed.
They were halfway down the deck when the sound of the gangplank being drawn inboard caused Sahure to halt, wheeling as he drew the sword. He saw no one, yet the ramp was now resting on the deck. The ship lurched a bit, Tyema clutching at his arm.
“Quickly, to the cabin,” he said as the barge floated away from the shore and began turning, the rudder moving as if a skilled helmsman was standing there. Slamming the blade back into the scabbard, he led her down the long deck towards the uncanny rudder. Sahure felt the ship gathering speed as the vessel set out across the lake. He and Tyema reached the cabin and he wrenched the door open, pushing her inside, closing the panel behind him. He saw black spots in his vision and his head swam as vertigo assaulted him.
“I feel so ill,” Tyema moaned, sinking to the deck, putting her head between her knees. “How can I be sea sick already?”
“Not the effect of the waves, I think. There may be something we don’t know about the way this boat travels, some magic we can’t handle, being human.” He got his arm under her elbow and half carried her to the long bench built into the back wall of the simple cabin. Wedging himself into the corner, holding Tyema as tightly as he could, Sahure prayed to Horus, then Sekhmet and finally Sobek, begging the deities to grant them a safe passage. It was difficult to breathe as the air in the cabin became hot and stifling. We must be in the middle of the lake by now, surrounded by flames. He knew Tyema had passed out and his last con
scious act was to adjust her more securely in his arms.
*****
He surged to his feet, grabbing at the sword as someone lifted Tyema away from him. Gentle hands pressed him against the smooth wood of the bench, soft voices murmuring reassurances. Blinking, he tried to focus on the beings around him, as someone handed him a water skin, which he shoved away. “No, can’t—”
“You may drink of the water in the Afterlife, for the Nile flows freely here as in your world,” said a melodious voice, pressing the water skin to his lips. “It’s food you must avoid in our realm if you ever hope to leave.”
The cool liquid felt wonderful on his throat. Wiping his mouth, he needed two tries to get his voice to work. “Where’s Tyema?” Absence of motion told him the boat had stopped moving.
The beautiful woman bending over him, lines of concern on her face, had long black hair tied in braids with red ribbons, matching the stripes on her dress. She tried to wipe his brow with a square of linen. “The woman is safe for now, out on deck. My sisters carried her there to revive.”
“If you can stand,” said another woman, twin to the first save that her simple dress was green striped rather than red, “We should get you on deck as well. It isn’t proper for you to be in the god’s cabin.”
“It isn’t proper for you to be here at all, human,” said another voice crisply.
Sahure paused in the middle of rising with the help of the two women. A flash of annoyance burning through him because he only remained steady with their help, he found himself facing an officer in someone’s military, judging by the man’s crisp black kilt and gold-accented nemes head cloth. An officer’s flail was tucked into the waistband of his kilt and on his chest he wore a glittering black pectoral in the shape of Isis’s knot. The newcomer seemed Egyptian to all intents and purposes, yet was not, some subtle difference in the features of his face putting Sahure on the alert.
Straightening, shaking off the gentle hold of the two girls, Sahure met this officer’s hostile gaze. “I’m Captain Sahure, in the service of Pharaoh Nat-re-Akhte.”
“And I am Captain Intefiqer-Duaen, in the service of the queen of the gods, Isis herself.”
“We sent for him after finding you and the lady,” the girl in red explained to Sahure, her voice still soothing and low pitched. “To find a human stowaway on the Great One Ra’s boat is something never before recorded in all of time. My sisters and I saw you wear the amulet of Sekhmet, who is daughter to Ra.” She stretched out a graceful hand to touch the eye in the center. “I sense the residue of the goddess’s gift of power.”
“And your lady wears the lotus bracelet of Sobek,” the girl in green said. “Which alerted us that you may be more than simple lost souls.”
Captain Intefiqer-Duaen stood aside to allow Sahure to pass onto the deck where he found Tyema leaning on the gunwale, another of the slender serving girls at her side.
Hastening to join his beloved, he was alarmed at how pale and gaunt she seemed. “Are you all right?” Sahure asked, putting one arm around her shoulder.
“Yes.” She nodded as if the single word had exhausted her.
“You won’t be if you’re still here when the Great One Ra arrives,” said Captain Duaen. He leaned casually on the rail, tapping the fingers of one hand on the shiny wood. “Don’t waste my time if you want my help to avoid the god’s wrath. Tell me what’s going on.”
“You’re Ushabti?” Sahure realized the truth, gazing from one girl to the next and back to the captain.
“Servants to the gods, yes.” The other man nodded. He indicated the women with a wave of the hand. “It’s their job to prepare the Mandjet and the Mesektet for the Great One Ra and his guests each day, before the god sets sail with the sun. As she told you in the cabin, the women sent for me to deal with you. One of my many duties is to keep the unJudged shades who wander the fringes of the Afterlife out of areas they’ve no right to enter.”
The girl in the red striped dress put her hand on Duaen’s arm. “Ra comes soon.”
“Get your woman off the ship now,” he said to Sahure.
Concerned by Tyema’s obvious fragility, Sahure got her to her feet and supported her down the long, polished deck to the gangplank, Isis’s captain following. They had to stand aside while a parade of Ushabti servants came aboard the vessel, bearing platters of the most luscious food Sahure had ever seen, and carrying refinements for the cabin—draperies, pillows and rugs in beautifully colored fabrics, accented in gold thread. A quartet of Ushabti musicians followed, giving Sahure a curious glance as they hurried by.
The moment the way was clear, Sahure descended to the shore, escorting Tyema. Duaen touched his arm lightly. “Over here.”
The Ushabti captain gestured and a small group of acacia trees sprang full grown from the arid black ground in a shower of green sparks. A white stone bench materialized in similar fashion, under the trees. “She can sit for a moment longer while we talk.”
“Thank you.” Gratefully Sahure took Tyema to the bench, where she sank down with a whispered word of gratitude.
“You’re not dead in the Upper World,” Duaen said, following them. “Not yet. If you were, we’d have an entirely different set of problems.” Hands on his hips, the officer surveyed them from head to toe. “I can see you’re both touched by black magic, even though you wear symbols of two powerful Great Ones. How this can be, I don’t understand. Neither Sekhmet nor Sobek traffic in sorcery, although both can combat it in their own way.”
“A human sorceress sent me out of my body,” Tyema said. “She meant me to be a sacrifice to Qemtusheb, in exchange for more power. With the help of Sekhmet, Sahure came after me, fought with the demons to save me.” She reached up and squeezed his hand.
He nodded. “I had nothing to do with the sorcerer.”
“You’re mistaken, mortal,” Duaen said. “I can see the signs plainly—the evil one has attempted to influence you, wants something from you.”
“I haven’t even heard the person’s name,” Sahure protested. “Although I have my suspicions.”
“Captain Duaen’s right,” Tyema said. “She’s been trying to affect you. I saw the signs back in the real world. Sobek sent me to Thebes to observe, to find the sorcerer and report to him.”
With difficulty, Sahure tamped down the anger rising in him. What else has she been keeping from me? How could Sobek send her into such peril so unprepared? “We can discuss the many other aspects of your assignment later.” Addressing Duaen, he said, “All we want is to get back to the Upper World. I’m hoping the portal Sekhmet created to bring me here will still be open for us as she promised.”
Brows drawn together in a frown, Duaen shook his head. “The Great One Sekhmet meddles in ways my lady Isis won’t be happy to hear when I make my report. Truly, you two mortals are living out a scribe’s tale. Well, since your bodies yet breathe, you’re not my concern. I need take no action other than issuing a most stringent caution not to attempt travel in these realms again until it’s your time to be Judged.”
Sahure was relieved, although he found it hard to accept such a simple resolution. “Will the Great One Ra—”
“Sekhmet can answer to him,” the Ushabti captain said with confidence, holding up a hand to interrupt Sahure’s question. “She’s his daughter, after all.” Closing his eyes, he pressed one hand to the pectoral on his chest for a moment, the black knot of Isis glowing with a curious violet light. “Your portal remains open.” Duaen blinked and addressed his remarks to Sahure. “I sense the disruption, the eddies of Sekhmet’s power holding it for you.” He pointed one hand to the east. “In that direction. The Great One must have felt she owed you a great debt, mortal, to do so much.”
“We should be on our way, then.” Sahure felt his impatience rising along with his concern for Tyema. She’d been in this realm longer than he, maybe the magic here was sapping her life-force. Or maybe her body lies near death in the world above. “My lady weakens the longer we stay h
ere.”
“A final question, then I’ll delay you no longer. On the other side of the lake, did you see the guardians of the boundary?”
He had to think for a moment to understand what Duaen was asking. “The baboon statues? Yes. Finding them told me we must be on the fringes of the Afterlife.”
Duaen shook his head. “Much more than mere statues. They should have torn you limb from limb, for trespassing where you didn’t belong.” He pointed with his flail before tucking it back into his belt. “You see, the guardians line the lake in the direction you must travel.”
“If they didn’t bother us before, why would they take action now?” Tyema asked.
“I think you were protected by the energy Sekhmet poured into your man’s amulet,” Duaen answered. “The magic also helped you survive the voyage on the Mandjet. But now the power is much depleted, fading.”
“We’ll keep our eyes open and travel fast,” Sahure said.
“If the baboons come to life, they’ll swarm you in a pack and you’ll be dead. A ka is a delicacy to them, and the pack cares not whether the mortal still lives in the upper world. They can run faster than any human. Even I’d be hard put to outrun them in full cry.” Duaen plucked the flail from his belt and held it out to Sahure, golden handle first. “Take this. They’ll recognize the symbol of my authority derived from Isis and let you pass.”
Sahure reached to take the flail, its weight familiar in his hand as if it was his own blue and gold symbol of an officer’s authority from his commander, although the handle of his wasn’t decorated with a golden Knot of Isis. The Knot glowed with magic power. “Thank you.”
Duaen shrugged. “From one warrior to another, in recognition of your courage. Any man who would voluntarily descend to the Afterlife and battle Qemtusheb’s demons to rescue his woman has my admiration.” He made a slight bow to Tyema. “An equal honor to meet a woman who inspires such gallantry.” His tone turning businesslike again, Duaen continued giving information. “Once you pass the end of our boundaries and enter the no man’s land, the baboons should lose all interest in you. There are other dangers, but as you made it through the area before, I imagine you can make your way again. Now, the final problem you face is time, which moves differently here than it passes in your world above.”
Magic of the Nile Page 31
