Movement in another direction caught her eye. As the fighting shifted away from the temple entrance and toward the more open ground beyond, several figures swathed in cloaks emerged from the half-built temple, scurrying toward the Hyksos chariots and carts.
Sure Nidiamhet was among this group, Tyema cast aside the shield, rose and unfastened the reins. Skillfully she brought the horses around as she’d been trained to do by Sahure and galloped them through the field of battle, scattering the clusters of combatants, halting the chariot in position to block the enemy vehicles from leaving.
Nidiamhet threw off her cloak and stood forth. “Now you’ll die, priestess!”
Tyema grabbed the belt knife and threw it as best she could, but the oncoming enemy easily dodged her throw. Two men in the rusty robes of Hyksos priests attempted to pull her from the chariot as the high strung horses reared and lashed out. Tyema screamed for Sahure as the priests dragged her to the ground.
“Take the chariot,” yelled a third priest, an older man who’d been watching this struggle. “I care nothing about this Egyptian woman.”
The men released Tyema abruptly, leaving her lying on the ground, bruised and winded but for the most part unhurt. One Hyksos went to the horses’ heads, while the other jumped into the chariot to take up the loose reins.
Tyema scrambled to her feet as the high priest pushed past her, Nidiamhet and Jadikiria in his wake. The Minoan woman quickened her pace and yanked on the man’s robe with enough force to stop him in his tracks and make him face her. “What about us? We can’t all fit into the chariot?”
He attempted to tug his garment from her grasp. “You’re on your own now. You’ve botched this entire assignment and deserve whatever fate the Egyptians mete out. I’m not rescuing you!” As Jadikiria continued to argue and implore him to reconsider, delaying his escape, the man drew a knife and slashed at her hands. Letting go of his garment, she retreated with a high pitched scream, blood dripping from her fingers. Face set in lines of rage, eyes flared wide, he followed her, stabbing the knife into her chest several times before releasing the hilt as she fell. “And as for you,” he said to Nidiamhet with a twisted smile and a beckoning motion, “Come here.”
She seemed reluctant, glancing at the combat still raging a little farther down in the valley. “Where will you take me? What am I to do now, go into exile?”
“You’re out of choices, it seems.” He held out one hand and step by step Nidiamhet walked forward to clasp his fingers. The priest drew her closer as if embracing her, putting his face close to hers as he said, “I take you nowhere, fool. Throw yourself on the mercy of your pharaoh. But to save this expedition from being a total loss and myself from Qemtusheb’s wrath, I’m taking the ring and the curse. At least I know how to use them properly.” He fought to take the ring from her, holding her with one hand and working frantically to strip the ring from her finger.
Unsure what she should do next, Tyema prayed to Sobek as she watched the life and death struggle play out. Reluctant as she was to allow the ring and curse to be taken by the Hyksos, was the fate of those objects her affair? Wasn’t she only charged with removing Nidiamhet as a threat to Pharaoh? It seemed the enemy was going to resolve the issue for her. Sidling in tiny increments at a time, Tyema worked her way to the dagger she’d thrown so ineffectually a few moments before and scooped it up. The feel of the weapon in her hand was reassuring.
“Take me with you,” Nidiamhet was begging the priest, even as she fought him with surprising strength. “I have power, you said so yourself. I can wield the death spell, your god respects me, I’m an asset you need.”
“You have nothing we need, stupid Egyptian bitch.” The priest struck her across the face, stunning her for a moment and knocking her off her feet.
Anxious for reinforcements to help her with whatever was going to happen next, Tyema glanced at the skirmish winding up. To her relief, Sahure and Pharaoh had broken free of the fighting and were heading in her direction at a dead run.
Just as the two Egyptians reached the area in front of the temple, the priest in Sahure’s chariot panicked and set the horses to gallop. Pharaoh threw his belt dagger with deadly effect and the enemy fell over, dead or dying. The other priest had been knocked aside as the horses bolted and seemed dazed, a bloody slash on his temple where the left-side animal had kicked him as he fell.
“Surrender, Hyksos,” Pharaoh advised, shield raised and bloody sword at the ready. “Your day in Egypt is long over. Only death awaits you now.”
Nidiamhet slithered out of the priest’s slackening grip and put herself with her back to the wall. She raised her hands, the large oval black stone in her ring catching the setting sun and throwing violet shadows everywhere. Tyema saw the foglike aura of black magic growing ominously dark and thick around her.
“She’s going to cast a spell,” Tyema screamed, having had a heartbeat of warning as the lotus bracelet around her wrist tightened, before Nidiamhet launched a sinuous coil of the vile black magic directly at her. Instinctively, Tyema raised her arm like a shield to ward off the threat. Although feeling buffeted, as if by high winds, she was unscathed, the tendrils of evil parting like water around her arm, dissipating in the air with a hiss, as if acid had rained.
“Not so fast, Egyptians.” Nidiamhet’s attack on Tyema had distracted the group’s attention long enough for the lone remaining Hyksos priest to draw a knife. He stabbed Nidiamhet in the side and slid the ring off her finger, yanking the leather cylinder from around her neck for good measure. The thong parted with a whiplike crack. “She’d no idea what power she was playing with, no clue how to use the ring or the utukkai spell, but I—”
Interrupting the boastful harangue, Sahure threw his sword with deadly aim. At the last second the priest waved the ring and the blade swerved in midair, striking the rock at his side instead of lodging in his heart. The weapon fell to the dirt. Laughing, the man kicked the blade away with one sandaled foot. He pointed the ring’s gemstone toward the Egyptians facing him. “Fool, even a bespelled weapon can’t touch an adept like me, not when I possess the ring of Qemteshub. My spell will lock you all in place, like a collection of statues. You can watch as I kill your so-called Great One, the exalted pharaoh of all Egypt, nothing but a bird ensnared in my net and waiting to die.”
Caught in the backlash of whatever spell the priest was working to freeze Nat-re-Akhte, Sahure and the others in one spot, Tyema’s vision blurred and it seemed as if her every breath was labored. Appalled at how dangerous the priest was, far more of a threat to Pharaoh and Egypt than the untrained Nidiamhet could ever have been, she struggled to take some action. Pharaoh trusted me to protect him and I’m failing miserably. With great difficulty she turned her head to find her companions in the grip of a paralysis even more immutable than the lethargy affecting her, as if the dusty floor of the Forbidden Valley had become quicksand, trapping them where they stood. Pharaoh alone was trying to move, apparently afforded some shielding by his semi-divine nature, fighting the black magic to place himself between his people and the priest. Wreathed in a cloud of gray and black, the latter was shouting words of power in Hyksos.
“Qemtusheb will reward me well, for killing Pharaoh in his own land. Egypt will be thrown into chaos, easy to invade.” The priest gloated in Egyptian as he fumbled with the cap on the container holding the death spell.
Where’s Sobek? Can’t he recognize the danger to Pharaoh? Tyema felt some strength flowing to her from the lotus bracelet and the large emerald, but not enough. She’d no idea how to channel the energy and cast it into a spell. Such things were beyond the knowledge and experience of a rural priestess. Fighting the magic compulsion, she took one step, then another toward the enemy priest, but she knew she wouldn’t reach him soon enough to distract him, not that she had any plan other than a physical assault with her fists. The priest raised the ring, chanting something in his own language as he peered at the tiny papyrus Nidiamhet had been given by the demons. Black
lightning arced out, sweeping toward Pharaoh.
“No!” Tyema screamed.
Half crocodile, half man, Sobek materialized in front of Pharaoh, the great golden sun in the god’s crown blazing, illuminating the valley, engulfing and counteracting the black magic. Standing taller than any mortal, Sobek pointed at the now cowering priest. “Your evil recoils on you, Hyksos, and will trouble my brother the Pharaoh no more.” His voice echoed around the rock walls of the valley like thunder and Tyema covered her ears.
The black light retracted upon itself and seemed to flow from the ring to coat the priest in ooze. He fell, screaming and convulsing, as the dark oily illumination spread over his entire body. The ring went rolling away in the dirt, clinking against pebbles as the Hyksos died.
Sobek walked to where the two bodies lay, the priest’s now nothing but a blackened husk, Nidiamhet’s untouched for the most part, her face set in a final expression of surprised horror. Baring his imposing, jagged fangs, he made a motion with his hand. Green light flared and the priest’s corpse fell in upon itself, reduced to ash. The Crocodile God pointed one taloned finger at the ring, which rose from the dirt to hover at eye level like an evil hummingbird, glinting and gleaming with deadly allure. Turning his head to stare at Pharaoh from blazing citrine eyes, Sobek said, “This ring must be destroyed, which can only be done in the court of my king Osiris, by means known to him.”
“Do what you think best,” Pharaoh answered. “I certainly don’t want that cursed object to remain in Egypt. Thank you for coming to our aid, Great One.”
The god inclined his head. “It’s my duty. And my honor.” He contemplated Nidiamhet’s body. “Ammit the Destroyer has already eaten her heart in the Underworld, for she was sadly tainted. There will be no Afterlife for this woman. Her ka has been extinguished.”
“This valley can be her tomb, for all I care,” Pharaoh said. “Scatter the bones. There’s to be no mourning for this woman, no mention of her name ever again. Her family shall be banished from Egypt, I so decree.”
“We need to make sure whatever other jewelry she has is destroyed,” Tyema said. “Who knows what else her mother stole from the Usurper? And if she possessed books of black magic, those must be given to the Librarian for safekeeping.”
“Wise precaution.” Pharaoh nodded his approval of Tyema’s point.
“What of the spell she was given in the Underworld?” Sahure asked. “Surely the papyrus the words are inscribed on must be destroyed as well.”
Sobek nodded, quirking one finger at the tiny papyrus now protruding from the heap of ash representing the remains of the priest who’d sought to kill Pharaoh. The sheet drifted into the air, whatever was written upon its surface glowing bright red in the gathering twilight.
As if the spell was written in fire. Maybe it was. Tyema shuddered, remembering her ka had been the price of this evil object.
Sobek reached out, placing his hand under the spell as it floated in the early evening breeze. He uttered three syllables in a language Tyema had never heard before. The pronouncement echoed through the Valley and drew thunder and lightning to batter at the valley rim above them in an awe inspiring spectacle, although no rain fell. A single bolt of lightning raced down, terminating at the spell. Sobek stood rock steady under the assault and when Tyema’s vision cleared, she saw him blow a tiny pyramid of ash from his hand.
She felt a twinge in her chest, as if someone had plucked her heart like a harp string, and then a wave of warmth spread through her. The smell of the blue lotus was in the air, comforting as always.
“You’ve done well, my priestess,” Sobek said, walking over to her. “The curse is dispelled and its link to your immortal ka is no more.” He made a fist for a moment, blew on it and then extended his fingers to reveal sizzling green sparks dancing on his flesh. A moment later a new emerald crocodile-shaped amulet dangled from a gold chain. “A replacement for the one stolen by the would be sorceress. Your duties in Thebes are now concluded.”
“And I’m grateful,” Pharaoh said, coming to join them, sheathing his sword. “Whatever reward is in my power is yours to command, Lady Tyema.”
Hesitating, Tyema stared at the amulet, raising one hand before allowing it to fall to her side. She moved closer to Sahure for a moment, gazing into his eyes while addressing Sobek. “May it please you, Lord Sobek, Pharaoh, I wish only to be the wife of Sahure, living wherever he is, with our child.”
Sahure took up a position behind her, putting his arms around her, holding her tight. “Ema.”
“I’ll do my best to be the kind of wife you need,” she said. “To conquer my fears.”
“I don’t want you to change anything about yourself for me,” he said. “I love you as you are.”
“Renouncing your duties as my high priestess, little sister, to wed a mortal?” the god asked, his voice curiously gentle. “You’ve served my temple and me faithfully.”
“Allow me to add to this discussion,” Pharaoh said. “As part of the conversation between myself and Sahure this day, Lady Tyema, I offered him a choice of two long term assignments. One to serve as Lord of all Thebes, my vizier for the capital city.” Pharaoh clapped Sahure on the shoulder with a grin. “He’s more than proven his talents for such a job.”
An amazing position of power and authority. The culmination of any man’s ambition, lacking the blood to be royal. Surely Sahure accepted. The pit of her stomach burned as she contemplated spending the rest of her life in Thebes, running the vizier’s palace, holding court in support of Sahure’s duties. The wife of a vizier wielded her own power and influence, or could, if she so chose. Tyema stood tall, raising her chin. If running a vizier’s house is my fate, in order to be his wife, so be it. I’ll manage in my own fashion. Belatedly, she realized Sobek and the men were still watching her. “And the other choice?” she asked, holding her breath.
“To take his uncle’s place as Nomarch of the Ibis province.” Nat-re-Akhte grinned. “I’ll not keep you in suspense, Lady Tyema. The latter was his decision.”
“To be with you,” Sahure said. “And our son. You could still be High Priestess.”
“But the nome’s capital lies a day’s travel from the temple.” Exasperated with herself for always seeing the difficulties, Tyema stopped speaking.
“You’ve devoted yourself to my service as no other priestess for all these years,” Sobek said. “I’ll allow you to become the senior high priestess, still in charge, but with someone else running the day to day duties of the temple.” He leaned closer, golden eyes gleaming. “I’d miss your voice at the major ceremonies, little sister. Participate in those special occasions, keep an eye on the overall affairs of the place, and I’ll be satisfied.”
“But, Sahure, to renounce Thebes, for me—”
“I do it gladly, no second thoughts,” he said, kissing her hand. “My heart is in the Ibis Nome. I told you that truth when we first met beside the Nile, and nothing has changed. If anything, I feel more strongly my destiny lies there. Besides, I want to oversee the building of Pharaoh’s new port city.” He winked.
Pulling away from Sahure, Tyema reached for the amulet the god was still holding. “I accept the new position, Great One, with humble thanks.”
Sobek let her take the necklace and then he changed to his fully human form for a brief moment, reaching to hug her close, heedless of the men surrounding them. “Many years of happiness lie before you, little sister,” he whispered. Addressing Pharaoh, he said, “The structures in this valley must be destroyed, lest the place continue to be a magnet for those seeking to create footholds in the Black Lands for Qemtusheb.”
“I don’t disagree,” Nat-re-Akhte said. “Yet there are those entombed in the Usurper’s building who lie there in all innocence, victims of her evil.”
“And the ka of each of her victims has been properly accepted into the Afterlife, long ago.” Although Sobek smiled, his expression was daunting in the fierce set of his jaw and the glare in his eyes. �
�Never fear, I myself will do the destruction, as soon as you’ve left this place.”
“It’ll be night soon,” Pharaoh said. “We’d best be on the road to Thebes without further delay.” He extended his hand to Sobek, who shook it firmly.
Sahure ushered Tyema to his chariot, the well trained horses having stopped in place after the man trying to steal them was killed. Taking a moment to heave the body from his vehicle, Sahure helped her step inside. “Good thing I taught you to drive.”
“Indeed.” She was distracted, watching Sobek as he stood there while the Egyptian chariots made a circle on the flat plain in front of the elaborate tomb and temple the Usurper had never lived to complete. The god raised one hand in farewell as she looked back, the chariot moving up the road to leave the valley.
Then, with a shower of green and white fire, accompanied by the sound of thunder, Sobek shifted into his full Crocodile form. Tyema gasped as she took in the enormous size of the white crocodile he became. This is what he was the day he rescued me and the others from the Hyksos ships. Her last view of Sobek was as he began rending the temple apart, tearing at it with his powerful forelegs and sweeping the enormous tail across the valley, knocking the giant granite columns down as if they were children’s toys. The earth shook under his ferocious, methodical assault on the Usurper’s buildings.
And then she was carried over the ridge and she lost sight of Sobek.
“Are you all right?” Sahure glanced at her sideways.
“I’m fine. I’ll see the Great One again in Ibis Nome, I’ve no doubt.” She felt carefree now, a huge weight lifted from her shoulders. Pharaoh was safe, the practitioner of black magic was no more, the Hyksos had been repelled— and most importantly to her, she and Sahure were free to be together as man and wife, to build the happy future she’d despaired of ever claiming.
Magic of the Nile Page 35
