“Wait!” Kareth scurried after her. It wasn’t until the hot sand hit his feet that he realized he hadn’t put on his sandals, but he knew Yunet wouldn’t wait. He caught up to her, feeling completely awake now. “Palace?”
Yunet was moving quickly, even for her, Kareth realized. She carried a sack of tinctures and herbs, he could hear the ceramic bottles clinking together as she made her way through the early morning crowds making their way to the market.
“You heard me well enough, boy,” she tried sounding gruff, but there was the hint of a smile on her face.
Kareth thought a moment before he spoke again. “Is this because of the Paref’s High Wife?” Harami’s sister, Merneith, was pregnant with the next Paref. If they were going to see her, then maybe she could convince the Paref to hear him speak. There was still hope.
Yunet frowned. “There’s more than one pregnant woman in the palace.”
“They didn’t say why they wanted to see you?”
“It’s Tzati Imotah who summoned us. Apparently he heard your skills helped deliver twins,” she scoffed a laugh, turning the corner and heading down a narrow alley that led to one of the many canals. “I think the dear tzati heard one of his former servants was helping a midwife do extraordinary things and wanted to take some credit.”
Kareth had stopped walking. He only noticed when Yunet stopped herself and turned around to shoot him an annoyed glance. “What are you doing, boy?”
“I…” he couldn’t seem to make his feet move. Tzati Imotah? The man who had taken him into his home with false promises. The man who had sold him to Dedelion. “I don’t think I should go.”
“Speak up, boy,” Yunet took a step towards him. “Don’t whisper to me.”
“I—”
“I am going. I don’t care what you do,” she waved her hand in the air and walked away. She was heading to one of the small boats along the stone wall of the canal, a ferry that would take her wherever she wanted to go. As soon as she boarded the boat, he wouldn’t be able to follow her.
And he knew, this was the moment. If he stayed behind, he could continue to be Yunet’s apprentice. He could maybe make a life for himself in this land. He could forget about his mother and his tribe and his gods. But if he didn’t go to the palace…if he didn’t have the courage to face those who had wronged him, then he shouldn’t have answered when the Rhagepe had asked him to step forward.
“Wait,” he croaked and ran after her, reaching her just as she had sat down in the small boat made from bent papyrus stalks. He hopped in, the boat rocking slightly.
The ferryman used a long stick to push their way through the canals, the water levels still low enough for it to be an easy ride. Kareth knew that soon the rivers would swell and overrun with rich silt for farming, but until then, the water continued to descend and Kareth couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if the canals dried up completely.
They left the narrow canal and moved into a wider one with several small boats taking travellers or messengers around the city. The rowers all nodded at each other. A few called out a friendly greeting or asked about the other’s family. Then the canal ended, and they drifted into the large lake in the middle of the city.
Kareth could still remember the first day he’d come to Nepata, how the lake had been packed with so many boats they clinked together. They had waited all day to see the funeral procession of the Paref sail out from between the twin palaces. Seeing the palaces from the water—the shining white limestone, the painted colours of the carved walls reflecting on the water, the golden temple that shimmered from between them—brought back the wonder he’d felt that day. He couldn’t help but feel the same nervous surge of excitement as they turned towards the water gate between the palaces.
The lake was nowhere near as crowded as that first day, but it was still bustling with activity. Most of the large ships around them were selling grain, fish, or other merchandise brought north up the river. The merchants held up samples, shouting about how they offered the best deal on the lake, but even this early in the morning, they barely had any stock left. Kareth would never forget the sick and dying he had lived next to on the street. There was barely enough food for those who could afford to trade.
They went through the towering wall and pulled up not to the east shore where the Palace of the Rising Sun, the Paref’s palace, stood but instead to the Palace of the Setting Sun. Kareth tried to hide his disappointment. Harami, Merneith, and the Paref were all in the other palace. He’d been wrong. This wasn’t his moment. This was just another failed venture.
He tried to forget the gods, to focus on the beautiful things before his eyes. Either side of the palace showcased lush gardens Kareth would have loved to wander through, sipping from the ponds, picking fruit from the tall trees, and collecting flowers to make potions with, but of course, that was a dream he’d have to keep to himself.
“For your wife,” Yunet nodded, handing the man a small vial as payment, and they gathered their things and jumped onto the golden quay.
They did not walk down the main plaza, two red obelisks marking the entrance, but went around the gardens along tall walls towards the back entrance. If this palace really was the exact mirror image of the Paref’s, then Kareth knew they were heading to the servants’ entrance. The outside of the entrance was the same as the Paref’s palace, a small courtyard with a few animals and people grinding grain or fetching water from a well. A guard was waiting for them at the door.
“King Arma is eager to see you,” he said with a smile.
“Is he?” Yunet said, and from her face, Kareth could tell she hadn’t been expecting to see anyone of such a high station, and Kareth’s heart leapt. The King of the Mountain Mahat was only a step away from the Paref. When the Paref was away, only King Arma held true power in the Mountain Mahat.
Once they entered the dark passageways Kareth realized that although the outside of the palace was nearly identical, the labyrinthine hallways were completely different. If not for the guard, Kareth would have been instantly lost. They soon left the servants’ halls and entered the palace proper. Once more, Kareth was plunged into the depth of excess luxury, and although he tried to follow the quickly moving figures, it was hard to look away from the battles depicted on the carved walls, the billowing silk curtains, and the shimmering gold.
Kareth nearly walked into Yunet when she suddenly stopped. They had entered a massive room, in front of them a large dais with a black stone bench upon which stood an older man. Although his wig and long braided beard were jet black, his face was wrinkled and his eyes slightly watery. He leaned forward, one hand on his bony knee, clearing his throat. He was obviously the King of the Mountain Mahat, Arma. Both Yunet and Kareth bowed their heads low before him.
“Ah, the midwife arrives,” he nodded.
Next to him a woman was kneeling, waving a long palm leaf to cool him down, and standing before the dais was another man who looked advanced in age. While the sitting man was frail and thin, this man had the broad chest and strong arms of a fighter. His eyes stared at Kareth like an eagle would a snake. He wore a black menes, brocaded with gold, and from his wide shoulders, the pelt of a leopard hung loosely.
“Really?” The muscular man looked up Arma. “These two?”
“They came highly recommended,” the king said, then began coughing. He motioned to the side of the room where several servants were waiting. One ran forward holding a golden cup, offering it to the king, who drank it greedily.
“Do you know who I am?” the leopard-clad man asked, looking down at them.
Yunet raised her head to look at his face and nodded. “A general,” she did not sound impressed.
“King Arma’s own. I am General Nebkhe,” he said proudly. “I hear you worked with the honourable High Wife’s midwife.”
“She was my apprentice,” she answered drily. “Is she unwell?”
“She is well enough, but I fear my daughter…disagrees with her methods. She
would prefer a different midwife.”
Kareth wondered if maybe it had more to do with the fact that the midwife was General Nebkhe’s mistress, but he knew better than to speak up.
“Who better to treat your daughter than the midwife’s mistress?” Nebkhe looked back at the king, who merely shrugged with indifference. “And this is your new apprentice?”
She nodded.
Nebkhe took a few steps forward to look Kareth over. Kareth felt like he was looking up at a mountain. “The most-wise Tzati Imotah tells me you were his servant, that he recognized something special in you and allowed you to become an apprentice.”
Kareth wondered just how imprudent it would be to correct him. Imotah recognized something in him all right, but only what he could use to help himself. He wished he no longer needed to think about the man who had failed to help him, who had simply led him into more danger, but it seemed that whenever he came close to the Paref, the tzati would be coiled nearby.
“Yes,” Kareth decided to just nod instead.
“So you became apprentice to a midwife?” Nebkhe asked.
“Yes,” he answered quickly, not looking at Yunet, hoping she would just nod in agreement.
“You helped birth twins recently, no?”
“Yes.”
“The mother died,” Yunet added gruffly.
“The child is always more precious, no?” The general turned to Yunet. “Particularly a son.”
Yunet only frowned.
“It’s impressive, I must admit.” The general walked back to his place by the dais. “You’re young and a foreigner, and yet I’ve heard your name many times. I hear of your talent as a potion-maker. I even hear that you’ve been able to gaze at the future through your dreams.”
Arma sighed, looking slightly bored, but Nebkhe turned on his heels to stare at Yunet and Kareth with a dramatic flair, clearly enjoying himself.
“There is only one thing that confuses me. The great and noble Tzati Imotah tells me he allowed you to become an apprentice, but not to whom, and while here you stand the apprentice of a midwife, a sorcerer tells me it was he that Imotah gave you to.”
Even before the two figures stepped away from the wall, two shadows emerging from the dark, Kareth felt the coldness creep through him. He looked to see them walking towards him, Dedelion looking regal draped all in black, and at his side unable to meet his eyes, Natef followed. So the chubby bastard had betrayed Kareth to become Dedelion’s new favourite apprentice. It was hard to swallow his rage, but he did.
Yunet looked at Kareth with mild confusion, clearly not knowing who these men were or why he suddenly looked like all the blood had drained from his face. Blood. Moments came back to him. The room with the stone table. The dead bird in his hands. The sound of the whip striking his naked flesh. All of them washed with blood and pain.
“He was my apprentice, until he stole from my household, and I threw him to the streets,” Dedelion smiled, but his eyes were as cold as a crocodile’s.
“Why didn’t Tzati Imotah mention all this?” King Arma asked, interested in the proceedings once more.
“I am sure the benevolent Tzati Imotah did not want to bring up such a shameful time.”
“Are you sure it’s the same boy?”
“His eyes. Oh King Arma, who is nearer to the gods than all before you. Look at his eyes,” Dedelion stepped forward, pointing, and Kareth flinched, edging closer to Yunet. “No man in all of Mahat has eyes such as this. There could be no mistaking it. You may ask the impartial and just Tzati Wozer, who sentenced the boy to ten lashings. I’m sure he would remember those eyes well.”
Nebkhe turned back to Arma. “They did seem promising. But I do not want someone with such poor judgment helping my daughter to birth a child into this world.”
“Of course, of course,” Arma raised his hand, about to dismiss them.
Kareth could only look at Yunet, pleading to her with his eyes for forgiveness. He knew something like this was going to hurt her more than it ever would him. Gossip was wildfire among the rich, and he feared she would lose clients. But as he looked at Yunet, he saw a young woman standing behind her, entering the room and looking at the proceedings before her with curiosity.
She was bright and youthful, obviously of royal blood. She sparkled as she stepped into the light, and when she saw his face her eyes widened. She gasped, just a small sound, but it immediately drew the attention of the entire room. Everyone turned to look at this princess, just as Kareth recognized her, and the golden bracelet around her arm.
“It’s you. It is you…isn’t it?” she spoke, the same lovely voice he remembered from the shores of the Hiperu. She turned to Arma, joy on her face. “Oh, uncle! Is this the midwife’s apprentice? Oh, I know him! You must hire him and this midwife, any child touched by them would be blessed; I know it!”
Arma smiled at Harami; the General looked slightly perplexed, but it was the expression on Dedelion’s face, cold fury kept inside by clenched teeth that told Kareth what he needed to know. The sorcerer could paint Kareth any colour he wanted, but the word of a princess was always going to wash him clean.
Arma shrugged. “I trust Tzati Imotah. I’m sure this sorcerer is mistaken. There must surely be two boys with such eyes.”
Dedelion opened his mouth to speak, but Nebkhe interrupted him, forgetting he was in the room a moment.
“I’ll speak to the honest Tzati Imotah myself then. If he vouches for the boy, I’ll take them on.”
Kareth looked at Harami, her eyes twinkling, then back to Yunet, hoping to find relief in her eyes, but the only thing he saw on her face was a frown.
“How fantastic you’ve learned to speak,” Harami said after the awkward silence that had met her as she entered the room, a young servant girl following her.
Kareth stared at her in astonishment for a moment more before he found his voice again. “Always could,” he tried to smile, but his mouth seemed crooked.
A sudden groan came from the next room, where Yunet and several maids were helping General Nebkhe’s daughter. They were still in the Palace of the Setting Sun, on the west side of the bank, though days had passed since they’d come and he’d been reunited with Harami.
After being accepted as the midwife for General Nebkhe’s daughter, they would often come and check up on the young woman. General Nebkhe served King Arma, so he had rooms within the palace for him and his family. They were in a splendid room fitted with red silks and golden tables. Kareth was sitting on the ground next to a doorway opening onto a private garden, where a peacock nibbled at the ground. This was the first time Harami had come to visit. The first time they’d been able to have a proper conversation—ever.
Harami smiled and suddenly he felt himself in the past, seeing her for the first time on the bank on the Hiperu. She was taller now, the proportions of her body were changing, but the rest of her was the same. She wore so much jewellery it probably weighed more than she did and still there were thick black lines adorning her eyes, a blush of colour on her cheeks and eyelids. And her smile, above all else, there was still immense kindness and beauty in her smile.
“I mean, speak a real lang…speak my language,” she said, looking around the room uncomfortably.
“I’m, I’m sorry,” Kareth looked down at the bowl of herbs he’d been grinding, his face feeling hot. “I thought…I guess I thought…I’d never speak to you again.”
“You thought I wouldn’t want to?” Her hand went to her upper arm, lifting the delicate white sleeve that had been hiding the bracelet he’d given her, and she clasped her fingers around it as if it gave her comfort.
Again his face tried to smile, but it seemed as though he’d forgotten how.
“I’ve thought of you often, you know,” she came over and sat on a silvery cushion next to him, her eyes looking as excited as when they had gone hunting for fruit together. The servant, who was dressed nearly as richly as she was, stood sentinel by the door, completely still. “I wondered h
ow you were and what had happened to you. I was too afraid to ask anyone, and even if I did,” she sighed, “I doubt they would have answered, even if they knew. So you must tell me everything. At once.”
He found a proper smile pulling on his cheeks. “I don’t want you to have trouble again.”
“Nonsense. You’re a proper citizen of Mahat now, working for a midwife honoured by the Paref to help the women of his court. Yunet even helped my very own dearest sister, whose womb holds the future Paref Rama, who will be the seventh Rama to rule over all the land the Hiperu touches. You even have the face of a Mahat lord. I could paint my eyes no better than you’ve painted yours.”
Kareth laughed. Yunet had rolled her eyes at him every time they went to the palace now, because he would insist on painting his face. He felt like he was getting better at it, but this was the first confirmation he’d received. He imagined he looked like a little Mahat lord, especially sitting next to a princess in a palace.
“What?” her face looked confused. “What did I say?”
“Nothing, I’m sorry. It’s just…I like your paint…your eyes. I mean, Mahat eyes,” he wanted to change the subject. Was he insulting her? He was suddenly terrified she would leave. “You talk different that I thought. I mean, you don’t sound like a princess, you sound, I mean, just like, uh, well like Yunet.”
“Like a commoner?” and to his relief she didn’t look angry but laughed softly instead. “I suppose this is the first time you’ve had a real conversation with a member of the royal family.”
“If Imotah, I mean the honourable Tzati Imotah doesn’t count.”
“He does not,” her voice was like feathers on his ears. He just wanted to listen to her speak for all the days and nights he had left on this earth. “You were, what? His ward of sorts?”
Pekari -The Azure Fish Page 38
