by L M Adams
Lucien gives me a look and we go into the bathing chamber. He moves to one of the tables in the room and reheats the water in the basin so he can wash the blood of Keyon from his hands.
“What is she going to need?” He asks simply.
I sigh, “I don’t know. She may become angry and wish to assign blame, I’d be the most logical target… even you blame me.”
He sighs, “I don’t, Capaneus… I spoke from anger.”
“She will do the same, but she will speak with a whip and my back will be the canvas.”
He shakes his head no and picks up a cloth to dry his hands, “You can’t handle that kind of session.”
“Are you volunteering?”
“Jaevia Ramzia can have me whatever way she wants me.”
“You are not made for the things she’ll need, Lucien… I know you are volunteering from a place of love. But you have never submitted to her when she is… like that.”
He turns to face me, “You cannot be that for her now, so where does that leave us?”
“I will make a way,” I look at him plainly, knowing I will do whatever is needed to give Jaevia the peace she needs to get through this time.
He starts to turn away, “Lucien.”
He doesn’t turn to face me.
“Are you okay?”
“No, Capaneus… no, I’m not.”
Lucien leaves our chambers to go and to talk to Henenu… and probably give him the seal.
I start to object, but then decide to say nothing. Even if I open it and give Lucien the power within… he won’t use that power to set my people free… he’s made his position clear on the matter. He won’t go against his father’s word or the word of the Divine Council.
Asking now would just make me seem more guilty… that I had a hand in the death of Keyon the brave.
149
Lucien – Heavy is the head that wears the crown
He didn’t do it, he didn’t do it, he wouldn’t do it. Oh Ra, please let me not love someone that evil… even Jaevia would never harm a child.
I go to talk to Henenu, praying he will say something that will help me believe Capaneus.
Ra knows I wish to take him at his word. But he has lied to me before… many times. He has used his majic over my heart before. They both have.
It scares me how much control they have over me. It is why I demand no lies. Let there at least be truth when they use me for their bidding. At least do not deceive me with your love.
Yet even this they seem unable to do.
If Capaneus had held his hand to his neck, over my scar, and ordered me to give him the seal, to take on the power and set his people free… would I have?
Without question.
I saw his desire to do just that when it was before him, covered in a young son’s blood… that is the type of man I have married and given my heart to?
This is why the scar is not given unless we love and trust a person absolutely. It is why I waited so long to mark him.
Was it a mistake? Has this all been a horrible mistake?
The halls are busy with people hurried about, the news of what has happened is spreading like wildfire. But why would the son try to steal the seal?
The people will wish to know why and that is when the nosferatu and Capaneus’s name will begin to be whispered.
I make my way up to the roof of the palace; I need to see what the foolish boy has done. Keyon you fool!
Oh Ra help me, my heart squeezes with pain. Did you not see how special you were to us? You made my Wench dream of a son; you made my Wench hope for the love of a child again.
How could you do this to us?
Did you not see that we loved you as a son?
The sun is bright as I step out onto the roof of the palace when my heart is filled with storm clouds. The palace roof is covered with gardens and shaded pools. Much like our rooms, the entire palace is made to let the light of Ra in, let the growing of Isis flourish, and the flow of Ishtar free.
I walk across the roof gardens towards Apedemak’s tower, gold spears are positioned about, standing silently in the greenery… but where were you when Keyon climbed the highest structure in the fucking city?
Where were you then?
Surprisingly, I find Henenu, along with Nassor and the young son Nakuru at the base of the tower where it meets with the palace.
The young son is on his knees crying his heart out as my best friend tries to console him.
Henenu sees me, he turns, dressed in his usual black thobe, his gray locs in one long braid down his back.
“Hari,” he murmurs and walks over to meet me, “let us walk.”
“What…” I start as he comes over and holds out an arm, urging me to turn away.
I sigh and fall into step beside him, he walks for a long while, hands gripping his wrists behind his back as he moves. A feeling of peace radiating from him.
“Don’t do that,” I grumble low, “Do not use that stolen majic on me.”
His sigh is deep and heavy, “I am sorry, Hari, you do not know how sorry I am.”
“For what?”
“Everything…”
“You had no intention of letting me go home…”
“I can no more control you than I can control the sunrise. But I had hoped you would wish to stay.”
“Even though my mother wished me to go?”
He shakes his head sighing, “The echoes are fickle… your mother should have remembered that. By her own actions she brought about her death…”
“If she had no wish to be joined with my father, then it was her right to set him aside. My father is the one who did a wrong, not her.”
“Do you really believe that? That your mother had no duty to the people?”
“We believe in freedom of choice! We believe in the heart song.”
“Yet the Ishtars manipulate the confused hearts… do they not? Need a gardener, stir the Isis in their chakra. We need more builders, ignite the Atum in the soul… And who has the least choice of all, Hari?”
“The rulers,” I murmur, remembering my lessons. “Heavy is the head that wears the crown.”
“You have a responsibility to your people, as your mother did, as I do. It will not always be fair.”
“Today it feels as if very little is fair.” I think of Keyon’s broken body, laying on the stone before all of the gods – and not a single one could help him… not even me.
“Life seldom is, Hari… Keyon had a habit of visiting your gardens, using the rear door. He only had a wish to be around you all…”
Henenu tells me that Keyon was there last night, heard me and Capaneus arguing. He convinced Nakuru to help him… in his mind, if the people would not do right by the cursed ones, then it was up to them.
Silent tears fall from my eyes as Henenu tells me of how they spent all night climbing the tower… Keyon being the strongest of the two, used the rope to climb down into the small window. He retrieved the seal easily and was climbing back out… and the he simply slipped. That’s all, he just slipped.
Perhaps it hurts more because Henenu’s words do not give me anything to hate, and part of me needs something to hate… part of me wishes to punish my Capaneus still, to just let it all be his fault.
But it’s not, and it’s not fair for him or his people to bear this burden… their heads have no crowns.
I hand Henenu the seal, “Keep it and be damned.”
150
Jaevia – Tears of the First Mother
“Baby,” Jack whispers kneeling next to my chair.
“Yeah?” I ask staring into the flame, trying to find the strength to put my life back together again.
“Come, let me get you in the bath.”
I look down, my white dress is bloody… my chest feels tight as I remember his body… oh Goddess help me, how many times am I supposed to know the feel of an innocent’s blood on my skin?!
He moves to take off my sandals, I draw in my feet, “No.”
“Baby, I can’t let you sit in blood, you need to process.”
“I will… after I tell his Momma,” the tears fall, “I have to confess…”
“Jae…”
I shake my head, “I was supposed to take care of him,” Oh Goddess, I can’t breathe. “How many babies?! How many babies am I to lose?!” I howl and rake my nails down my face, wishing to scratch out my own lying eyes, I promised his Momma! I looked her in the eyes, and I smiled, and I promised his Momma!
Jack jumps up grabbing me in his arms, pinning me in his love if I want it or not… if I deserve it or not. He yanks me up from the seat, holding me tightly as I cry, “There we go, go on and scream baby.”
I scream louder, the pain coming up from my ravaged womb where my own son had died, that wound that will never heal. That old ache that will haunt me for the rest of my life… it bleeds freely once more.
“There it is, shh, let it out.”
“I hate this world!” I howl to the gods above. “I hate it!”
My heart remembers Lithos, the lake of living stone, made by the tears cried by the first mother as she held the dead body of her son. I know that pain, I know it all too well.
Jack holds me tight through the worst of the storm, until the fire is gone and all that is left is the deep ache. My husband, the giver, pours all that giving into me.
He kisses my temple gently, “Peace be unto you. Peace be unto you.” He whispers it again and again until I nod… my heart settling.
He finally gets me calm enough to get me out of the bloody clothes and into the bath, although, he gets in as well, not ready to let me be by myself.
We sit in the smaller bath; he’s put something in the water to help me relax and lets me drink of the wine heavily. He’s managing me, he’s good at that… managing the mad queen.
“What will help you, Jae?” He asks sponging my arm gently.
“Nothing,” I look down into the water, so clear… Keyon’s blood had simply disappeared from the water, as if it had never existed.
But I know it was there, I know it was real.
“You can hurt me, you know that… right?”
He offers himself up so easily, always willing to let it be his fault. But this time… “I don’t want that.”
“Tell me how to help, Jae. Tell me how to make this stop hurting.” He says deeply, his voice so full of emotion I look up. His blue eyes are full of tears.
I open my arms; he steps into my embrace and I let him cry into me, I let him fall apart in my arms as he did for me. I try to be strong as he lets himself mourn Keyon, the young son.
I don’t think Jack had any intention of letting the kid get this close to him. But Keyon had a light that touched all of our hearts, if you wanted him to or not – he was a rare soul.
Jack and I help one another… we let ourselves feel it, we let our hearts hurt and our souls cry. We leave the bath to get in the bed together, still needing to be with one another… needing to feel and be alive. Needing it as if we were drowning in death.
The light fills the room and we lay upon the pure white linens as if our very beings were not made of sin. There are no words to say as he settles between my thighs and I look up at him. My beautiful fallen angel. They call him demon and fork tongue, but I only see the love in him. I lift my hand to his cheek and wipe the tear away as he pushes into my core slowly.
We’re desperate to feel life again, we’re desperate to know of love and this is the best way we know how. We stare into the depths of one another and remember the night Ishtar would let Azazael know of her, they night when the sky and the moon first touched.
He lays his body upon mine and cries as he makes love to me. I hold him close as he moves inside of me to the rhythm of a broken heart. My hands roaming over his pure skin, wishing to remind us both of the pleasure that this aching flesh can bring.
In his heart I see the picture of his daughter, and I know in my heart he sees the picture of my son – this, it is something that Lucien would not understand, he couldn’t, even if he wished.
He has not buried a child; he has not known that pain.
The pain of watching a dream die, for that is what our children were, they were our dreams – our hopes and our fears. They were the one thing in this dark world that we would have dared to not only die for – but to live for.
Jack and I try to replace the hurt with pleasure, we try to forget the pain, if only for a moment.
We try to uncry the first tears of the first mother – even as fruitless of a thing it is.
151
Jaevia – Back to the Basics
Amalya, mother of Keyon, stands over the body of her dead son. We’re in one of the chambers on the Isis side of the palace, a quiet place, a place for the dead. His body is too small for the table, it isn’t right.
They’ve dressed him beautifully, with all of the honors of a prince of Atum. His wesekh pure gold, his small hands crossed over his chest are covered in jewels. He wears the shendyt of a warrior and golden sandals for him to take flight in.
His dark skin has been dusted with gold powder and his locs twisted with golden thread. He wears a beautifully painted burial half mask of opal and gold.
The early evening moon is heavy above us, the power of Ra and Neoma shining down through the oculus above. Low candlelight around the edges of the room and the air smells sweet with the incense being burned to keep the smell of death at bay.
It’s cold; I’m cold, the power of Neoma moving deeply within me… or rather Khonsu. The people are praying to him, praying he will protect the young son as he begins his travel to Sekhet-Aaru, they pray that Khonsu will light his way so that his Akh, and Ka, and Ba will be safe during this most vulnerable time.
They pray to an incarnation of me and I feel that hope fill me with power – I know of the sweet nectar of a mortal’s prayer.
We’ve stayed back, allowing her to absorb the fact that her son lays there dead… but finally Lucien steps forward. He’s dressed in a mourning thobe, both him and Jack are. I’m dressed in a black dress and wear a sheer black cloth as a head covering.
Lucien takes a deep breath…
“Do not, my Raja, just go…” She looks up at Lucien, her gaze filled with steel, “just go.”
And so we do.
She is not allowed to be angry at the Raja, it would not be the people’s way, you are not allowed to be angry at the gods, you won’t get into heaven that way. But neither can she pretend that she didn’t send her son with us and now he lays upon a slab of cold stone.
We return to our chambers for a late meal, the entire city is in mourning. No more are there happy faces and beautiful colors; everyone is dressed for mourning… even the children of Isis that come to serve our food.
They keep their eyes downcast as they move, unwilling or unable to look upon the gods in their midst, the gods that charge a heavy toll.
Lucien is quiet, too quiet and too still. He told us of what happened. That it was just all a mistake, that Keyon and Nakuru had heard us fighting over the seal, that Keyon just wished to do what he thought was right in his heart.
The repercussions, however, are deeper than any of us could have guessed. Keyon died at the dawn, by the setting of the sun the entire way of the people is being put to question.
Sepa took this time to strike, she has let loose the secret of all secrets and let it be known the reason the young son died. That the people have been living a lie this entire time. That Henenu, and the rest of the council, are using the spirits of the nosferatu to provide majic for the people.
Does this make Keyon a hero or a traitor?
And if he is a hero, does this make Lucien a coward?
I look at my mighty beast push around the food on his plate. I know in his heart he believes this is his fault. Somewhere, I believe it is as well… if he’d been willing to do what was right, Keyon wouldn’t have had to try to.
But how can I blame him for not wanting to get invol
ved, not wanting to be the Raja when I did the same in our time. I abandoned the people too and I thought in my heart I wouldn’t care when it all fell apart.
I didn’t think about the innocents, the ones like Keyon the brave, who had more courage in his mortal heart than I have ever had within this goddess flesh.
I was childish, and I was petty, and what a bitter way to learn this lesson. What a cruel way to be reminded of the responsibilities that I have.
“We can’t make it right…” I murmur, “but we can make sure he did not die in vain.”
Jack looks at me oddly, “What are you saying?”
I look to Lucien, “We set the nosferatu free… let the timeline be damned.”
Lucien looks at me for a long moment and nods before looking to Jack, “If I had been willing to listen…”
“No,” Jack whispers, “This isn’t your fault. The council made their choice, I understand why you didn’t want to get involved…” He looks between us, “I was the first of us to quit the responsibilities of their people. I walked away from the vampires when perhaps they needed me the most – we have all thought we could choose to be the leaders of our people and be damned the consequences… this is the cost of that choice.”
“We will never make this mistake again.” I say softly. If we are not willing to be the queen and kings, the goddess and gods of the world – then what is the fucking point in our entire existence? What has been the point in all of this?
“We’re going to need a plan,” Jack sighs.
I grin, “Guess I’m back in business, get the booze.”
“Goddess help us,” Lucien grumbles and gets up to go and get the alcohol.
152
Jaevia – Raise the Dead
“No, Jack! We can’t just set thirteen generations of angry fucking ghosts free! There is no guarantee that they will move on,” I pace back and forth beside the large pool of water in the antechamber of our rooms… probably terrifying the fish with my yelling.
