The Tale of Nefret

by M. L. Bullock

  “Nonsense, Ayn. Nefret would never have killed you—she doesn’t have the stomach for such things.”

  Ayn snorted. “Ah, but you do. Don’t you?”

  “Yes.” I saw the smile creep across Pah’s face, and I shivered in the shadows. “I do. There is nothing I am not willing to do to be mekhma!”

  In a sad voice, Ayn answered her, “I believe you, Pah.”

  “Do I still have your support, or do you like your new job as babysitter to Nefret’s pet monkey?”

  “Don’t call her that, and I am not a babysitter.”

  Pah laughed. “Ayn, the great warrior, watching over orphans!” I saw Ayn’s hand curl into a fist, but Pah did not seem afraid, not as I would have been. Pah bravely stepped toward the tall girl, and her shiny jeweled necklace glinted in the fading light. “You are called to a higher purpose, Ayn. You could be someone great, a woman-warrior that future generations will sing about. I will win. It is my destiny. I have brought home a great prize, far greater than any Nefret could buy or find. I am now mekhma in all but formality. Pledge your support to me again, while I have no doubts about you.” I leaned forward to hear what Ayn would say, but a swatting hand smacked my bottom.

  “Hey! You girl! Get away from there. What are you doing? Hoping to steal something? Go now!”

  I ran from the woman’s cruel hands and toward Namari’s tent. I had nowhere else to go, unless I wanted to sleep in Nefret’s empty tent. I did not like being alone at night—I was afraid of the dark. Or more truthfully of what waited in it.

  What an evil woman! She made me leave my spot just when Ayn would speak and tell her true heart! I wanted to know the truth so I could tell Nefret when she arrived, but now I could not. Namari was waiting for me and presented me with the promised honey cake. Ayn’s mother had been kind to me, kinder than most.

  She crinkled her nose. “You need a bath.”

  “I know.” I grinned at her as I smacked on the honey cake. My stomach rumbled loudly.

  “You will have to take one tonight, little one, or you shall sleep with the goats.”

  I scowled but did not argue with her. Just once I would like to do what I wanted to do. Why had Nefret left me behind? Treasures of the tribe indeed! That was something the Meshwesh liked to say, but it was rarely true. At least not for an unwanted Algat girl who had nowhere else to go. I savored each morsel of the honey cake and finally licked my fingers clean.

  “I will bathe in the pool tomorrow,” I told her.

  “No, you will bathe here tonight. See? I found a new tunic for you. You can wear it while we clean your other one. It belonged to Ayn when she was a girl.” She held the tunic up to my chest and frowned at the ridiculous length. “We can shorten it a bit, and it will be perfect.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. To have two tunics! How rich I would be! I removed my clothing and allowed Namari to wash my body. She complained and compared the skin behind my ears to the desert we lived in. “Have you left any sand in the desert, Paimu?”

  I suffered through the scrubbing and endured the cold water. She scrubbed my feet with a camel hair brush, and I tried not to kick her as I laughed.

  “Be still, monkey girl!”

  “It tickles! I can’t help it!”

  She wanted to remain serious and focused on her task, but I could see a glimmer of a smile on her face too. It was a rare flash of happiness, and for a moment I pretended that Namari was my true mother. I enjoyed the fiction until her husband walked in. I grabbed the new tunic and clutched it to my naked body.

  He did not acknowledge me but spoke tersely to his wife. “The anni-mekhma is back. I must go to see Semkah now. I do not know when I shall return.” His strained face reflected worry, as did Namari’s. I did not understand the exchange.

  “Very well. Peace, husband.”

  “Peace to you, wife.”

  Without drying my hair or body, I slid the tunic on and searched for my sandals.

  “Where do you think you are going?”

  “I must go see Nefret.”

  She lit the lamp that hung from the center pole and laughed joylessly. “No, you must stay here. See, here is Ayn. Tell her that she must stay here—she is like a wild cat. The king’s tent is no place for her.”

  “She is right, Paimu. I am sure Nefret will come when she can.”

  My fists clenched as I thought about what I should do next. Scream, set the tent on fire, kick Ayn and run? Nothing was clear except that Nefret had returned. “She is my friend. I have to see her.” Tears filled my eyes.

  “Shh…Paimu. Nefret has other matters to tend to besides you. I am sure she will come see you when she can. Take your rest now. If she comes while you are sleeping, someone will wake you.”

  Sullenly, I climbed into the pallet where I had slept the night before. I did not feel sleepy at all, but I could see that arguing with Ayn would get me nowhere. I cuddled up to the soft blanket and twisted the corner worriedly. The harder I strained to hear Ayn and Namari, the sleepier I became. The warm honey cake and cool bath had done their work on my tired body. I would never admit this to Ayn and her mother, but the feeling of being clean and having a new tunic comforted me more than I could have imagined.

  Later, I awoke to the sound of Nari and Namari talking in hushed, worried tones. If it had been merely Namari and Ayn in the tent, I would have thrown back the blanket and demanded to know what they were talking about. I did not dare to speak to Nari in such a way. Remaining very still, I did not bother to push back the dark hair that had fallen in my face. I kept my breathing even and did not move. I was good at spying, a practice that made me feel powerful and safe. People always underestimated me.

  “All of them?” Namari whispered.

  “That’s what she says. Run through with spears and their throats cut with a blade.”

  Nari’s wife gasped and turned to look at Ayn and me. “What should we do? Where should we go?”

  “Where can we go? There is nowhere to go, wife.” He hugged her close and whispered in her ear. She nodded and put her arms around his neck. “I think the best thing to do is wait to hear what the scouting party discovers.”

  “I am surprised you didn’t offer to go with them.”

  “Semkah prefers to keep me close by.” He glanced at Ayn and she nodded, understanding the hidden message. Since Ayn’s accusation, Nari’s reputation as a faithful warrior and friend to Semkah had been tarnished. Even a child could predict that would be the result of such behavior.

  “So what does this mean? Will they continue or wait until the scouts return?”

  “I feel sure that Farrah will not want to wait, especially in light of this latest development. In her mind, we will need a mekhma to face whatever army may be advancing toward us.”

  “Yes, I can see that. You don’t agree?”

  “I think we should wait, but I have no voice on the Council. No influence with the king anymore. Nefret was not able to fulfill her trial. It seems only fair that we should wait. However, I am sure Pah will make a good mekhma. She is a strong leader. Always has been.”

  “So the Council has decided?”

  Nari leaned back on his bed and pulled his wife to him. “Nothing is decided yet, but I can see which way the wind is blowing. Come here. Enough talk for now.” They fell silent, and soon they both began to snore. The small oil lamp on the table flickered weakly until it burned away its fuel. I slid back my covers quietly and paused. My young heart beat wildly in my chest. I had to see Nefret. I had to, and no one would stop me!

  Slowly I sat up. Nobody stirred and the snoring continued. I put on my shoes and stood. Ayn shifted on her pillow but did not wake. I walked to the tent flap and, as quickly as a Bee-Eater, stepped outside and ran through the dark, down the sandy pathway to find Nefret.

  Aitnu strolled past me but did not spot me. He wore his battle gear, a leather tunic, a shield and his sword. Wrapped in his thoughts, he neither acknowledged me nor spoke to me, even when I thought his dark eye
s fell upon me. I ducked behind a pile of saddles and heard him speak to two young men. They walked to the edge of the camp, with me following them as secretively as possible. The men selected camels, arranged the saddles and left under the cover of darkness. They headed west, presumably to Biyat.

  As Aitnu and the other warriors rode away, I stepped out of my hiding place.

  I felt a great sadness wash over me. Things were changing, and I did not like change. It always brought bad things.

  It worried me that some of our warriors were leaving. Who would protect Nefret now? I raised my chin defiantly as I watched the men disappear into the thick darkness. I would go find Nefret! Focusing on my task, I stepped back on the path. I had to find my friend. Who else would help her if not me?

  “Why am I not surprised to find you lurking about? Always in the way, always forgotten, aren’t you, Paimu?”

  Before my eyes could take in the darkened figure, I felt a pain in my stomach like I had never known. My hands flew to the spot, and with some shock I realized they were now wet.

  Wet with blood.

  Chapter Ten

  A Marriage—Nefret

  I squatted in the sand behind the lively fire that burned in the center of the circle. Across the fire, dozens of pairs of young eyes watched my every move with enjoyment. The marriage ceremony had been performed, and now the tribe made merry in honor of my sister and her new husband, Yuni. It seemed sacrilegious to celebrate when Meshwesh lay dead in the sand just a few days’ ride away.

  However, I was not the mekhma; I did not decide such things.

  With her marriage to Yuni, Pah had offered the ultimate sacrifice, her own body on behalf of her people. I had failed my mission. I took comfort in the fact that the outcome had been out of my control. The gods had chosen the mekhma. Nothing could change that. I knew these things, but it left a bitter taste in my mouth. Everything would be different now, and no word came forth about my future.

  Sitting in the place of honor were Father, Pah and Yuni. They clapped their hands in polite expectation of my tale. I bowed my head, keeping my eyes on my father—not on my sister whose eyes messaged her hate, and not on her husband, who made no secret of the fact that he lusted after every woman who passed in front of him.

  The children clamored for my attention, and I stood, raising my hand to my forehead to my father, the host of the wedding festivities—this would be his last official event and, although no one openly expressed it, it would probably also be mine. He sat bare-chested, wearing only his robes of kingship and a skirt of dark blue. Father’s long dark hair had been oiled, and it hung in rows of curls for the special day. He was a handsome man, my father. Pah whispered something to him and he laughed politely. The two shared their joke with Yuni, who laughed too. I did not let it discourage me. I walked toward the fire, my hands behind my back. Such small movements could hold an audience spellbound—at least I had this moment. I had a gift for storytelling, as Farrah told me when she remembered to speak to me at all. Mostly, she just stared at me.

  “Daughter, tell us a story,” Father said, smiling at me.

  Slowly I began to dance as the drummer tapped a happy tune for me. I noticed Alexio’s eyes watching as I waved my fingers and pointed my toes. Truthfully my dancing left something to be desired, but I could pose. Suddenly, I gestured with my hand and the drummer, an old, toothless man, stopped. I stood frozen, sneakily digging into my pocket. I grabbed a handful of purple flowers, the kind that spark and flame when tossed into a fire. I spun and tossed the flowers into the fire and stood staring at it. What was this? In the flames I could see again the dead bodies of the people of Biyat, thrown into the sandy valley to be left as food for the animals of the desert. I shook my head and closed my eyes. When I opened them, all eyes were on me.

  “Aha!” I said quietly as the story I needed came to me like a living thing that had always been there, hanging in the air, waiting for the telling, as if this were the perfect time and place.

  “Hear now, honored guests and treasures, the story of Numa, the woman who had no heart and therefore could not love. Ziza! Come!” I whispered to the little girl, “You must help me. Follow me, okay?” She gave me an embarrassed but willing smile and nodded her consent.

  Again my heart broke.

  Where could Paimu be? She should be here telling this story with me.

  I missed my treasure, my monkey! I had not seen her in two days, and poor Ayn and I had been wracked with worry over her. Ayn swore that she had made every effort to keep her close, but the child had a mind of her own. I knew this to be true, so I did not lay this at Ayn’s feet. Neither Namari nor Ziza’s mother had seen the girl, and neither had any of her playmates. It was as if she had disappeared into thin air. Perhaps the Algat had returned to claim her? I prayed she had not been lost in the desert but merely was hiding from me to show her disapproval over my leaving her behind. Paimu had a strong will and a stubborn streak as wide as the Sahara.

  Ziza scrambled to her feet and made the sign of respect to the king and my sister, just as I had. I patted her head and she knelt quietly beside me, ready to act out the story that I would weave. Ziza was an excellent young actress; in the past she had played the part of a monkey, a parrot, a lost traveler, a warrior princess and even the sun. She could do it all, but she was not my Paimu.

  “Buried somewhere in the Red Lands is the body of Numa.” I felt a cold chill and suddenly I saw a woman lying in the desert, the sand covering her face.

  Who was she? I had never seen her before!

  I shook my head and continued on, trying to regain my composure. “She was a beautiful woman, only she was born without a heart. She could not love. She could love neither husband nor children, nor her father or mother although they were honorable people. Numa would go out every day to pray for a heart. As often as she could, she would make a heart of bread and offer it to her tribe’s deity, Washtu. She would lay it at the god’s feet and return the next day, hoping to discover that the bread had turned into a real heart. Day after day, she rolled the bread, patted the bread and baked it into the shape of a heart. Each day was the same. No heart appeared. This was unfortunate because Numa was to be married in just three days. Her betrothed had great lands and much wealth. Numa desired to be a good wife and mother to the kind king’s children.

  “Numa had almost given up on receiving a heart. She wanted to love, to be in love, to feel love. She wanted to love others. It was her sole desire.” I waved my hands and used my eyes to demonstrate how Numa must have felt. Beside me, Ziza pretended to bake a heart from sand and presented it to the fire.

  “See? Day after day it was the same until one day, a jinn from a faraway land heard Numa crying. He dove down from his home in the clouds to see who this was crying in his domain. So surprised to see a woman without a heart, the jinn abandoned the sky and spoke to her.

  “‘Why do you cry, woman with no heart? If you have no heart, how are you able to cry?’

  “‘I can cry because tears don’t come from the heart but from the soul. Love comes from the heart. I need a heart. Leave me be, jinn!’

  “The jinn scowled at her and floated away. This happened for many days. The jinn flew by and came to speak to Numa. Finally, after a week of this, he asked her if she would accept a heart that he had made for her. Numa was suspicious, ‘How can I trust a jinn? All jinn are notoriously evil’ But even as she said the words, she was uncertain. Her father had always told her never to entertain a jinn, but this one offered her a heart. What should she do? Should she take the heart?

  “The jinn flew away in a cloud of blue smoke, and Numa was relieved. But the jinn did not stay away for long. Two days later, on the eve of her wedding, he returned and presented her the heart again. Courageously, she refused to accept it. In this she was wise because it had been the jinn’s plan to cause Numa to fall in love with him—the heart had been cast with an enchantment. Aggravated by her lack of trust, the jinn threw the heart at her feet.

/>   “‘See, I made this heart for you. If you do not take it, you will never have another one. Take the heart, woman, and experience love—but listen to me! You must swallow the heart before it will work for you. Also, know this, the first living creature you see after you have your heart is who you will love for eternity. Do not open your eyes until you are prepared to be in love. You have until sunset to decide. At that time, the magic of the heart will fail.’

  “The woman watched the jinn sail up and up until he finally disappeared into the star-jeweled sky. It seemed like he had flown all the way to the moon. She looked at the heart on the ground, unsure what to do. Carefully she picked it up and dusted it off.” Ziza dusted off an imaginary heart and pretended to examine it. “Numa kept her heart in a box, safe from anyone who might steal it. She told no one about the jinn or what she had been given. What should she do? Swallow the heart? Burn it? What if this was a trick to kill her?

  “The hours were passing by, and Numa decided it would be better to take a chance on love than to live without it. More than anything, she wanted to love her husband! Numa did not know that the jinn secretly wanted her as his wife, even though marriage was forbidden between humans and jinn-kind. From a distance, the jinn watched her. She began to eat the heart he had made for her. She swallowed it as she stood outside the tent of her betrothed—the king she wished to marry. She called the name of the king, her future husband, and ran out of the tent to find him.

  “When the jealous jinn saw this, he began to blow a wind with his angry lips. He blew so hard on the camp below that he created a storm above the oasis.” I made the sound of wind, and Ziza bent and blew about like a palm. The children covered their eyes as the suspense grew.

  “Despite her surprise and fear, Numa kept her eyes closed and felt the wind whip around her. She was afraid but did not dare open her eyes to see the destruction, afraid of what or whom she would fall in love with. The jinn traveled back down from the sky but unfortunately, the winds that he had created made this more difficult. He struggled to push through the wind and clouds to reach the human woman he desired but not before a lost donkey, frightened by the storm, ran past Numa and stepped on her bare toes. She screamed in agony and unthinkingly opened her eyes to see the backside of the donkey running away from her.