The Celestial Conspiracies

by Talhi Briones

  Iram took a mental note of the ibis idea.

  Aïden hissed once more, her back hunched. There was a man casually approaching their tree.

  “Hm. A visitor,” muttered Anubis.

  “That’s Master Cicero, my mistress’s tutor,” explained Iram before bowing to the scribe.

  “Why am I not surprised.”

  Hermes grinned. “Iram! I was looking for you! I have a message from the princess. You and her other two companions are free until tonight.”

  “If I may, did she give you a reason?” asked Iram.

  “Oh, probably to keep you safe. See, the king sent for her in the middle of our lesson. I think he suspects her to be linked to some… events that have happened around the wedding preparations. I can guess the princess will be rightfully offended and won’t hesitate to let it know to her furniture.”

  Iram thanked both Celestials and left to look for his brother. The air under the sycamore grew tense. The musicians finished their song, and in the following silence, you could hear Aïden’s constant growl.

  “Calm down, my friend, I’m not looking for trouble,” said Hermes.

  Aïden growled louder. Hermes turned to Anubis, but the Netcheroo raised his hands. “I have no control over her. And nothing guarantees me your good faith, stranger. You’re not from here, but you walk in the palace hallways as if the country belonged to you.”

  “I know it belongs to your people, but that doesn’t explain why a mighty Netcheroo like you hides in the palace gardens! And what about the angels, and Lady Naími, and that creature showing me her fangs?”

  “Why do you persist in asking questions if you know I won’t answer?”

  “I’m persistent.”

  “You mean stubborn. Curiosity will be your end, messenger. It’s dangerous to mess in the affairs of other Celestial clans—”

  Aïden jumped to her feet and walked two steps until she left the shade. She yelped and came back under the foliage, annoyed.

  Near the musicians, a man had approached Bastet and was trying to get her attention. Many had attempted the same, but the goddess had ignored them all so far.

  Hermes, who had just seen Bastet for the first time, was in shock.

  “Bad idea,” warned Anubis.

  “Do you know who this divine vision is?”

  “She’s an old friend.”

  “I’m going to introduce myself.”

  “I don’t recommend it.”

  “Ha! I’m not scared of being rejected!”

  “I fear the opposite. She’ll eat you alive.”

  “What a way to go,” sighed Hermes.

  He joined the crowd and watched for a while. The music had started again, and Bastet was back to dancing. She ignored two other men who tried to get her attention.

  Instead of approaching the goddess, Hermes started to move to the rhythm. His jerky movements were completely different from Egyptian dances. The spectators, curious, gave him space and cheered him on. The musicians played faster.

  Bastet’s curiosity was caught. She changed her rhythm and slithered closer. Hermes adapted his moves to hers, and soon, their dances were one. The drums accelerated once more, the gestures became more daring, more sensual. The music reached its peak, and the dancers followed it, laughing, until the last drum was hit and the silence came back. The crowd cheered, and Bastet whispered something in Hermes’s ear.

  Watching from afar, Anubis groaned. “Aïden, things are getting complicated.”

  The demon growled.

  A shout interrupted everything. Everyone turned to the musicians. Next to them, on the floor, was a small body.

  “It’s the princess’s companion!”

  Hermes pushed everyone out of his way and kneeled next to Onamu. The child was unconscious.

  “He was watching us play. He’d been there for a while,” explained a sistrum player.

  “It’s the heat,” said Hermes. “His skin is as red as his hair. Bring me water!”

  He was quickly obeyed. He woke Onamu and made him drink half of a gourd, then removed the wig and emptied the other half on his head. The child blinked, surprised to be the center of attention. Hermes carried him, while gently lecturing him.

  “No hat, no veil, no protective oils, under the afternoon sun and without a drop of water. With your skin, kid, it’s a miracle it didn’t catch fire. I’m bringing you back to your mistress, so she can take care of you and send for clothes that cover these freckles.”

  He smiled at Bastet and left for the palace. The goddess went back to the sycamore and stretched.

  “What a shame. My dance partner left,” she purred.

  “He left you for a kid. I hope that’ll cool you off,” said Anubis.

  “Not at all. That makes him even more charming. Come, Aïden, I need to get ready for my date, tonight.”

  “He’s an Olympian,” Anubis called after her.

  She waved lazily over her shoulder and left.

  * * *

  The door to Soromeh’s quarters was brutally slammed. In the servant’s bedroom, Iram and Hermes exchanged a glance.

  “May Apophis eat my brother’s entrails!” yelled Soromeh from the antechamber.

  “Your highness?” called Hermes.

  “Cicero? What are you still doing here?”

  She entered and froze upon seeing Onamu on the bed. Iram was softly pressing a wet cloth on his brow.

  “Onamu? What happened? Is he all right?”

  “It’s only heatstroke, your highness,” explained Hermes.

  “My poor boy,” muttered Soromeh, sitting on the bed. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m hot,” he whined.

  “Cover all burned skin with ointment,” said Hermes. “Make him drink lots of water, keep him in the shade, and let him rest at least a full day. He should regain his strength in no time.”

  “Iram, go see Master Kamuzu and ask for the best salves. Say it’s for me. He hates caring for servants.”

  Iram gone, she took his place and dabbed Onamu’s face with fresh water. The child fell asleep.

  “We could finish today’s lesson,” suggested Hermes. “You were quick to grasp arithmetic.”

  “Could you come back this evening? If you’re free, of course.”

  “Oh, your highness, I would’ve gladly said yes on any other day, but I have a date with a beautiful dancer.”

  “The palace dancers are vapid.” She grimaced. “Girls of small nobility that only aspire to perform during festivities and ceremonies so they can be told they’re pretty. You can do better, believe me.”

  “Thank you for the compliment! But this woman is not from the palace. If I understood correctly, she’s a parent of Lady Naími and is currently staying with her.”

  Soromeh stopped moving. “Cicero, you should stay away from that woman. She’s dangerous.”

  Hermes narrowed his eyes and brought his face closer to Soromeh’s.

  “And suddenly, the little princess becomes much more interesting.”

  Soromeh blinked and understood. She grabbed Onamu’s shoulder. “You’re one of them.”

  “And what am I, exactly?”

  “A god. A Celestial.”

  Hermes got even closer, until she had to move away.

  “You only know how to write your name, but you know about the Celestials. Your guards are angels, and your lady-in-waiting hides Netcheroos in her quarters. Are you more important than I thought, little princess?”

  “I can scream,” she said, her voice shaking. “There are guards outside my door.”

  Hermes stood back. “Oh, there’s no need to be afraid, I bear you no ill intent. I don’t need to terrorize a kid to get my answers. Forgive my manners. I won’t take such liberties in the future.”

  He went to the door and turned back, smiling.

  “Tell me if you ever want to keep up with our classes. You were a good student.”

  He left, leaving Soromeh unsettled and shaking.

  Iram fo
und her like that. “Your majesty? What’s wrong?”

  She stood up and took the jar from him. They woke Onamu to turn him around and covered his burned back with healing salve. Once they were done and the child was sleeping again, they closed the curtains, extinguished the lamps, and left the room, closing the door behind them.

  Soromeh went to her favorite armchair, near the window. She frowned, stared at nothing. Iram hesitated.

  “Come,” she breathed without looking at him.

  Without a word, he kneeled in front of her and extended an open hand. She took it. She blinked out of her trance and really looked at him.

  “There are so many things I wish I could tell you,” she whispered. “I’m scared, Iram. Dangerous things are happening all around us, and I can’t speak about it. I just realized that I have to be suspicious of everyone.”

  “You can be certain of my loyalty,” he said, softly.

  Soromeh took a long time to answer.

  “I know. I know I can trust you because you love me. Am I right, Iram?”

  His laugh was bitter. “Of course I love you, your majesty. It would be impossible for me not to.”

  She touched his cheek with the tips of her fingers.

  “You need to know that if I was allowed to choose, I would choose you.”

  He looked back in silence. After a long moment, he lowered his head and muttered some words in Hebrew, before coming back to her.

  “I thought being at your side and paying my debt was enough. I’m just a slave. I don’t dream for much. But now… I can’t help but wish for what is forbidden to me.”

  “You may wish. Whatever you want, I’m offering it. I belong to another in name only, and he respects my choices. But we have to be discreet. Not even Barak and Onamu can know.”

  “I will keep the secret to the tomb if I need to, your majesty.”

  “Call me by my name.”

  “...Soromeh,” he whispered.

  She pressed her lips against his, softly.

  Later, when Barak returned to the chambers, he found them near a table game, pink-cheeked, exchanging glances that fooled no one.

  Chapter 12

  A Joyful Day

  The newly wedded couple was supposed to make their first public appearance at noon, on the palace’s front steps. The crowd had started coming in at first light to get good places on the esplanade. A rope marked the space reserved for the nobles, who brought chairs and sun umbrellas.

  Anubis and Aïden walked against the flow of people and stopped in front of the palace steps, where a couple was sitting. Bastet, fully human, was sitting on Hermes’s lap and playing with his hair.

  “Three days!” shouted Anubis. “You disappear for three days without a warning!”

  “I think you meant three nights,” she snickered.

  Anubis groaned. “Spare me the details. I know I don’t have a say about your lovers, but this one is dangerous. He’s using you to gather information on us.”

  “Oh, I’ll stop you right there!” said Hermes. “I would never use such a lovely lady to get something as crass as information. Actually, it’s a real problem. She makes me forget what I’m really here for!”

  He kissed her on the cheek.

  “Charmer,” she laughed.

  Anubis grabbed her arm and pulled her among the crowd, far from Hermes’s ears.

  “This is a delicate situation, and your presence complicates everything. Why are you still at the palace? Are you spying on me or the angels? Naími was kind enough to let us stay in her quarters—are you going to hand her over to our people?”

  She took her arm back. “Anubis, I’m staying because my trip to Hell exhausted me. It’s easier to spend idle days at the palace than to face the Netcheroo council and their infighting. I don’t care about whatever you’re plotting.”

  “You could help us.”

  “No, I have no intention of betraying our clan.”

  “Thousands of human children will be executed for the glory of the Netcheroo clan! We’re trying to stop the massacre.”

  “Don’t lie to me. You’re doing it for selfish reasons. You’re afraid of having to suffer those deaths. I can understand, but if things were different, you would’ve done nothing.”

  Anubis stayed silent.

  She crossed her arms. “You think you’re the only one who witnesses human suffering because you see their deaths. But I take care of the births. Most newborns don’t live through their first season. I’m there with the mothers when they lose their children. I saw as many tears as you did. That’s the mortal life, Anubis. We call ourselves gods, and even we can’t do anything about it.”

  “I refuse to give up, not faced with such carnage.”

  “What would you prefer? Some Hebrew children dying or the disappearance of our culture, our civilization, as well as the mortals under our protection? The predictions are clear about this, Anubis. If that Hebrew, that child, grows up to become the foretold prophet, our empire will fall in a couple dynasties!”

  The trumpets stopped their argument. Bastet raised her hands, exasperated, and went back to sit with Hermes.

  “Next time you disappear, bring Aïden with you!” called Anubis after her. “She won’t stop following me!”

  “She refuses to join us!” called back Hermes, laughing.

  Anubis turned around and was not surprised to see the demon behind him.

  “Bastet is back. You can go shadow her, now.”

  “Not while they’re together,” she sneered. “They make me nauseous.”

  Dozens of guards took their places through the esplanade. Once the stone alley was fully cleared, musicians and dancers stepped out to fill the air with music and flowers. Then came the flag bearers with the names of Soromeh and Damon and the signs of the Egyptian and Mycenaean kingdoms. They were followed by a procession of priests, members of the courts, foreign dignitaries, and members of the royal family. Naími was among them.

  The trumpets announced the king, and suddenly, there was complete silence.

  “People of Egypt, rejoice! Fourteen years ago, my father received the gift of another son, a prince of Mycenae. Even though my father’s ka currently shares the god’s eternal feast, he would be pleased to see this day, the official association between the kingdoms of Egypt and Mycenae.”

  Hermes had pushed his way to Anubis’s side. “Look at this. Our countries are now allied! May I call you brother?”

  “Human allegiances don’t last more than a lifetime. There’s no need to be so excited.”

  The king went on. “May the gods who brought them to each other watch over their union. My beloved people, this is Vizier Damon, prince of Mycenae, and his wife, Princess Soromeh, daughter of King Ramses and Queen Satre!”

  The newlyweds appeared to thunderous applause. Damon, clothed in bright blue and a leopard skin, bore a Mycenaean sword and the king’s golden shield.

  Soromeh, hanging at his arm, was unrecognizable. Her dress was made out of the finest linen in Egypt. The jewels she wore at her neck, wrists, ankles, and ears shone under the midday sun. Her hair had been delicately braided and ornated with flowers, pearls, and perfumed wax. On her brow sat a golden circlet with an ibis spreading its wings. Her elaborate makeup didn’t hide her annoyed expression.

  “Smile at the people, my dear bride!” said Damon. “This is the happiest day of your life!”

  “Just give me one of your daggers so I can stab myself in the heart. The crowd would love it.”

  “Patience, little scorpion. We survived the priest’s ceremony. The worst is behind us. There’s only the banquet left.”

  “Only the banquet? You do know, my dear husband, that these celebrations can stretch until the following morning. Believe me, this torture has merely begun.”

  They had to stay longer for the crowd before they were allowed back inside. The throne room had been completely transformed for the festivities. Heavy wooden tables were arranged around a central space, where a pile of
presents was slowly growing. Nobles were attended by an army of zealous servants and entertained by dancers and musicians. The air was filled with cheerful voices.