*
The wind was so strong that night it was catching my breath. We perched high atop the temple walls, close to the pylon chamber where Jonah had been held. Osiris and I waited. I sighed, for the night was drawing on and I was growing impatient. Osiris lay back with his hands behind his head and closed his eyes.
“We may have to think of another way. Unless you can see something else in your visions,” he said with irritation.
“Sorry, I wish I could.” I had tried several times already while we waiting. But all I achieved was getting my hair tangled in the wind.
“Sweet Zeus!” I spluttered, suddenly alert.
“What is it?” Osiris sat up, looking from me to the vast empty courtyard below.
“Listen,” I whispered.
We both sat there, ears straining. She was inside a small temple close to the main entrance, and she was not alone. Osiris and I moved along to the wall to get closer.
“You said the child would be safe.” The voice was unmistakably hers.
“I said he would not be harmed.” The male voice that replied was high pitched and squeaky.
“Eunuch,” Osiris hissed when he saw the puzzled expression upon my face.
“Oh,” I mouthed.
“Better send word of warning. She will not be pleased his father is so close behind them.”
Osiris was leaning so far over the edge of the wall straining to hear that I felt the need to reach out and hold him fast. But whatever was said next was lost in a howl of wind, and then they were gone, somewhere deeper inside the building.
“Who is ‘she?” he asked, knowing full well I could not answer. I looked up at the stars and wondered why they would not show me.
We waited there some time longer until the sky began to turn and the sun threatened to rise and scorch us. I leapt down first. It was a long way; so far that getting up had required some effort of climbing. The ground thudded beneath my feet, jarring my ankles. I bent to rub at them.
“The first pylon,” Osiris hissed. He was running along the top of the wall. I did not hesitate. Bolting fast as I could and was at the gate in time to hear footsteps coming toward it at the other side. I looked up to see Osiris standing, feet apart and hands on his hips glaring down at someone. I pressed my back against the pylon wall and held my breath as a familiar voice said,
“Thank you AmunMeses.”
The bolts slid back and the door swung inwards. A heartbeat later the priestess stepped through and into the street, right in front of me. I wanted to grab her, but I knew that would be noticed.
Above me, I heard a scuff as Osiris prepared to jump. We waited for her to make her way down the temple path and into the city. Then, when she was far enough ahead, we began to weave our way through the streets behind her, following her scent.
The hour was so late it was early. People were beginning to wake. I was almost seen when a woman opened a shutter from an upper story window and emptied a piss-pot onto the street below.
“Disgusting,” I said under my breath as I dodged out of the way. No one would have done such a thing in the delta, or back in Troy. The stench of urine burned my nostrils as we continued along the street.
“Where on this earth is she going?” Osiris hissed as we rounded yet another corner into an even narrower alley.
“Urgh! I had not thought anywhere could smell worse than the last street,” I replied.
“At least there’s shade,” he whispered back. Osiris grabbed my arm and halted me. The woman had stopped. We waited, hidden in the shadow of a tall narrow house. The sun was up now. We had to take great care where we stepped for fear of its rays. The woman lifted the cloth from a hovel door and went inside.
“Now,” Osiris said, rushing out into the sunlight. I hesitated. But a boy’s life was in danger, what were a few burns? I ran after Osiris, feeling my skin tingle and sizzle in the few moments it took to reach the door. As I entered the safety of the shade once more I glanced at my hands and saw the blisters rise and bubble.
Osiris had moved swiftly and sly as a cat. I was barely a beat behind him, yet when I went into the hovel the priestess was already pinned to the wall by her neck. Osiris had her clamped with one hand at her throat and another on her waist. His hips were pressed against hers so she could not have moved even a muscle. Her face was twisted in fear and anger, and the vein in her neck pulsed against my companion's thumb.
“Where is he?” He breathed into her face. She tried to turn away from him, but his grip was too tight. There was a deep click in her throat as she tried to reply. She gagged and choked from the pressure of Osiris’s hand.
“You’re killing her. She is no good to us dead,” I said quietly, slowly moving toward him. I rested my hand over his. Osiris seemed to wake from some kind of trance and let go of her throat. The woman slumped against him, resting her head against his chest gasping.
“Where is he?” he said again, so coldly that even I shivered. The woman lifted her head and looked him in the eyes, just as she had done at the temple. But this time she was caught. I saw the glazing of her eyes and the dilation of her pupils as she drifted under his spell. Breathing slow and hard she stared into him,
“The queen took him.” Her voice was hollow and flat.
“Which queen?” Upper and Lower Egypt both had pharaohs who claimed to rule the kingdoms at that time, one of which was the high priest of Amun at Waset. Yet neither Osiris nor I were prepared for the answer.
“Agame.”
“Who?”
“Where?” We said at the same time.
The woman did not answer at first. She merely continued to stare at Osiris. He raised a hand in front of her face.
‘The Queen of Sheba,” she answered after a moment.
“Where did she take him?” I asked praying that it was not to her homeland across the sea.
“Abu Simbel,” the woman was beginning to shake.
“Osiris,” I said. “Osiris, look away from her.”
My companion closed his eyes. The woman fell against him, her eyes rolling back in her head. She was shaking so violently I thought her heart might stop. He pulled her into his chest and held her until she began to relax and the shaking ceased.
“I have never seen anyone react so before,” I said, a little unnerved. Osiris carried her over to her bed. He laid her down so that a pillow cushioned her head and her knees were raised so that her back was flush with the bed beneath.
“It happens sometimes when they get lost completely. I think something in their brain misfires, causing the body to dance.” He smoothed back the dark curls of her hair soothingly.
“She will be all right?” I asked, edging a little closer.
“Yes, yes she will be fine. Though I cannot be sure if she will remember what happened.” He slipped off the bed and stood before me.
“Let us hope not,” I replied warily.
“We must go to Abu Simbel,” He looked out through the small window at the sun. “Just as soon as we can get out of here.”
“Better hope she does not wake then,” I replied, looking around for something to keep her asleep. Clustered on a shelf over the bed were numerous bottles and jars. I climbed over the priestess to reach them. She groaned and turned on to her side as I disturbed her peace. I pulled the stopper from the neck of the first bottle and sniffed. I recoiled at the scent of some potent herbs. I put the stopper back quickly and tried the next, and the next, until,
“This will do.”
“What is it?” Osiris reached to take the bottle from me, but I moved it out of his way. After what had happened with Ajax I loathed to drug anyone, but I knew it had to be done. However, I was not about to trust anyone else to do it.
“The oil of the black cherry,” I replied. In modern terms, it is known as belladonna, but that name was given much later.
“That could kill her,” he tried to snatch at the bottle again.
“A small amount eases pain, a little more and she will sleep for a day
and lose her memory.”
“Too much and she’s dead,” he added.
“I know how much to give.” I had administered the drug to Ramses in his final days when the ache in his bones became too great. I knelt at the woman’s side and let two small droplets fall onto her lips. She licked them instinctively. Her eyes fluttered open for a second and then she relaxed.
“This will be the best sleep she will ever have,” I said putting the bottle back and climbing down from the bed.
“And now we wait until nightfall,” Osiris sighed.
“And now we wait,” I concurred, taking a seat on the straw-matted floor and resting my back against the side of the bed. I closed my eyes and hoped that I too could sleep a while.
*
Procuring passage on a boat heading south had not been as easy as we had imagined. The further upriver you travelled, the rougher and more treacherous the waters. Larger boats could not pass at all, and those that did attempt the journey did so at their own risk. But it was quicker than by land. A single day may not seem long, but when a child is missing every moment may count and feels like an eternity. Even so, by the time we finally arrived at Abu Simbel three full days had passed.
The sun was a big red ball sinking below the horizon and the sky streaked with pink and gold. I have always loved the sky like that, though I am forced into the shade to witness it. Osiris held a parasol made of papyrus over our heads as we disembarked the boat. I tugged the sleeves of my gown over my hands and made sure my strides were short so as not to expose my feet.
Situated just before the second cataract on the boarder with Kush, the village at Abu Simbel was small, but the temples were not. Though I had seen them as we sailed towards them, it was impossible not to, the grand scale can only really be appreciated when standing before them.
Emerging from the rocky cliffs the four statues of Ramses and his wife looked like giants about to step out and crush us beneath their feet. Ramses had told me of this construction project. Built to commemorate his proclaimed victory at the battle of Kadesh against the Hittites, despite the actual outcome. He had the temples cut into the rock to face Kush as a warning not to attack such a great empire as his.
“This is your first time here?” Osiris observed when he saw the look upon my face. I drew to a standstill in the shade of one of Ramses' gigantic right feet. I nodded. “He was a good man,” my friend added.
“Yes, he was,” I smiled a little sadly. Ramses may have had his issues with the Hebrew, and he certainly fought many a vicious battle, but he was a good man and most of the time he was a good king, even if a little economical with the truth. As I stared up at the statues in awe I remembered his kindness to me after Paris and Zoe left.
I sighed as I stepped forward to knock upon the door. This was no easy task for the rope and stone were so large I could barely grab them even with two hands. This entrance was certainly not meant for easy access. I lugged the stone back and threw it hard against the very heavy wooden door. The thud was deep and hollow. We waited for some moments and then tried again.
“They were never going to just let us walk in, especially if they have Jonah inside,” Osiris scowled.
“One last try,” I said, heaving back the stone for a third attempt. But it was to no avail.
“We had better go to the village and find a room at an inn. We will come back when the moon is high and everyone is sleeping.” Osiris began to walk away, but I could not move. The vision hit my mind hard. I winced and stumbled to sit down upon Ramses' big toe.
A maze of dark rooms with brightly painted walls. A long wide gallery of statues and a distant chamber. The boy was kneeling before a statue of Amun. In his hands, he was clutching a large papyrus scroll.
His knees were bruised and painful, his wrists were cut and sore from the binding. He was crying, begging for them to take him home. Vampyr children may be strong, yet they are vulnerable. It was possible for Jonah to be controlled by a human adult. He was scared.
“He is here,” I gasped.
I stood and pressed my hand flat against the door. I could feel his fear pulsing through the wood. Osiris gritted his teeth and slammed his fists onto the door. Nothing.
“Let us go, we will come back later tonight,” he said with a tight jaw.
“But how will we gain entry?" I dared to ask. "The temple is a cave hewn from the mountains, and this door is the only way in.” I looked up to the top and down at the base; not even a sliver of daylight could pass. “The wood is a cubit thick and the frame is solid rock. It will be near impossible to break down.”
“We shall think of something,” Osiris replied with more hope in his tone than on his face.
*
We took a room at a small inn by the port. It was decent enough, with a wide bed large enough for two, a table with an inlaid top, and a single ornate chair by the curtain door. The chair and table had once been quite beautiful but were now chipped and worn. Osiris ran his fingers over a faded guilt image of Re-Hoakhty, his hawk eye glinting as though he were alive. Re-Hoakhty was an amalgamation of the gods Ra and Horus, created to be a more powerful and rounded god. Entirely impossible of course, but then so many gods in Egypt got merged over time that it was hard to tell sometimes where their origins truly began.
“You must miss Horus,” I said rather stupidly. Of course, he missed his son.
“No matter how much time passes we never forget those we truly love,” Osiris took a seat on the end of the bed and rubbed his hands over his face. I had not yet considered how we would arrange ourselves for sleep once daylight came. “You have lost someone?” he asked.
I stared blankly for a moment.
“Cassandra, are you all right?”
I realized Osiris was looking at me.
“I… yes. Yes.”
“Forgive me. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“No. It is fine,” I smiled. “My father,” I answered his original question. “He was killed in the last great war of Vampyr. My mother I never knew.”
Osiris lent forward as a modern-day therapist might.
“That must have been very difficult,” he said softly. “What about a lover?”
The question caught me off guard. I stared for a moment. Eventually, I said,
“There was a man. He was human. But it was many years ago now.” I was not sure if I meant Polydamas or Paris. The former had been my lover against everyone’s wishes and died on the battlefield defending Troy. The other had escaped with me with barely his life, but I had lost him anyway in the Exodus of the Hebrew.
“It is hard to lose someone when it is sudden, but hardest of all when we watch them grow old and die, while we remain the same and must go on without them.” Osiris was staring at the bastardized image of his son on the back of the chair, faded like a memory over time but never quite gone. He looked so wistful I could not help but kneel before him. I noticed for the first time how he had thin lines spreading out from the corners of his eyes, and mixed in with the dark stubble on his chin there were a few grey hairs.
“Thirty-two,” he said, as though he had read my mind. “I was thirty-two years of human age when Set took his axe to my chest.”
I sat back on my heels and looked at his once human face.
“Do you know of other humans who have survived the transformation as you?” I could not help but wonder if I could have saved Paris. I knew not for certain if he had survived the tsunami. If he had, should I have searched for him, made him a Vampyr to keep him with me? But I had not. There was little point in considering the notion. I shook my head and rose to stand.
“Some,” he replied. “It was difficult and painful at times, but eventually everything became more natural to me than before.”
I turned away to hide the tears that formed in my eyes.
“You loved him very much, this human?”
“Yes,” I replied, though now I knew that I meant Paris.
“And that is why you have not loved another.” This was n
ot a question but an observation. I forced a grin upon my face and said,
“That is why I keep sex as a pleasure of the body, and not take it to my heart.”
“Hence where I found you.” He grinned back, letting his gaze unashamedly wonder over my breasts and hips. Though I must add that this was with admiration rather than desire.
“I have long since found that I can quell both hungers at once with great success in a brothel,” I said with a wry smile. I realized then that I was hungry. I suspected we both were since we had been searching then for several days.
But we had more pressing matters at hand. I pushed a heavy drape aside to reveal a small window hole and peered out at the black sky. It was cloudy but I could make out enough of the moon to see the night was at its peak. I listened for a moment, but the village was quiet.
“Time to return to the temple,” Osiris said, already standing at the door.
*
The sky was heavy and damp with the threat of rain. The Nile waters gurgled as it tumbled over rocks, sending a cold fresh scent into the air. The path was deserted as we made our way to the temple grounds. The only other creature that stirred there that night was a hawk that seemed to have been following us since we left the inn.
“Horus,” Osiris hissed, shoeing the bird away with a waft of this hand. “You will have us seen.”
I could only imagine what fears must have tied knots in my companions gut. He had lost one son already. I could not let him lose another. The bird swooped so low I could feel the breeze from his wings in my hair.
“What is it?” I asked it in a whisper. The bird glided to a halt and settled on the same big toe of Ramses that I had rested upon earlier. It cocked its head at us, waiting for us to approach. Just as we reached the great door it screeched and soared away over the Nile and toward the eastern desert. Osiris shrugged. “Stupid bird,” he said a little louder than he ought.
I looked at the vast door and recalled the palace gate at Troy. It was a grand just like this, but its size was merely for intimidation. Offset to one side it had contained a much smaller hidden entrance at a more manageable human height. I pressed my ear to the door, running my hands over the smooth wood for any sign of a similar secret entrance here.
The Dark Evolution Chronicles Page 8
