“Weren’t your clans already at war?” asked Hermes.
“Not openly. I don’t know how it will play out, but I do know it can stretch over centuries. Years can go by between battles.”
“We’re still leaving tomorrow,” said Harouk. “Though I don’t know where we’re headed.”
“Me neither,” said Hermes. “I promised the little princess I would bring her wherever her heart wishes, and she gave me a list. You can tag along. You’re also welcome on my lands, near Mycenae. Your clans should not bother you there, not if they want to stay on good terms with Olympus.”
No one answered. He softly kicked the wall next to Aïden. She glared back.
“What about you?” he asked.
“You owe me a year of protection,” she said, going back to shredding her meat.
* * *
Sethy managed to avoid Kamilah for two days, focusing on getting the city on its feet after the storm. His grace period ended at the end of the second afternoon, when a servant came to summon him.
Their usual meeting room was guarded by Kamilah’s men. There was a young man standing in the corridor, dressed in expensive fabrics and jewelry. It took Sethy a moment before he recognized Soromeh’s Hebrew servant.
Iram bowed at the waist, like a nobleman, instead of prostrating himself as a slave. There was a silence where both of them just looked at each other, animosity thinly veiled. Sethy was the first to look away.
He opened the doors and froze upon hearing familiar voices.
“It doesn’t look that bad,” said Damon.
“It’s like a hyena shredded your shoulder,” said Soromeh with worry. “Were you healed by one of those charlatans from the city?”
“May Master Kamuzu never hear that. He managed to keep my arm attached, at least. Look, I can even wiggle my thumb a little bit.”
A sigh.
“Damon, I know you like to see the bright side of things, but… you can’t use your hand anymore.”
“I’m alive,” he said. “You are, too.”
Sethy glanced into the main room. Damon and Soromeh were hugging. He stared, filled with a deep sadness.
“You’re going to laugh,” said Damon into Soromeh’s hair. “The palace people swear it’s my war wound.”
“That was the other arm!”
“Exactly! I think Kamilah has already sent a team of artists to correct the murals depicting our victory.”
“Oh, but they were almost done with the big one in the western wing—”
She noticed Sethy and stopped. There was an awkward silence where Damon avoided his eye and went to sit at the table. Soromeh did the exact opposite and marched up to him. Dressed in her finest dress and wearing the ibis circlet, she strongly reminded him of their mother.
“Brother,” she said, her voice neutral.
“Soromeh. I am glad to see you alive.”
“Despite all your efforts.”
“You must know I wasn’t myself—”
“I know!” she snapped. Then she tried again, calmer. “I know. Probably more than you do. And—listen. I’m aware of what happened to you, of Pamiu getting into your mind and twisting it. Father probably went through the same, and he had to die just to escape him. I think I understand how Pamiu manipulated numbers and people to get what he wanted. And how he isolated you from us. And that he probably caused Mother’s death. And—”
“I slit his throat open,” interrupted Sethy. “His body is at the bottom of the Nile, and his name will be erased from all writings.”
Soromeh smiled, triumphant and mean.
“I am satisfied,” she said.
He raised a hand to place it on her shoulder, but she flinched away. Damon had jumped halfway out of his seat, hand flying to his sword.
“You’ll have to forgive me,” said Soromeh, cynically. “But after almost being beheaded on your orders, I will need time before I can trust you again.”
At that moment, the main doors opened once more. Kamilah entered, greeted them with a nod, and took place at the head of the table, usually reserved for the king. Sethy bit back his words and sat to her left. Soromeh fell into the last chair and completed their circle.
“Soromeh, I spoke to your suitor,” Kamilah began with a gracious tilt of her head.
“Oh please no, you’re going to frighten him to death,” she whined. “He’s already so uncomfortable with the clothes you sent. I didn’t warn him he had to speak to you on top of that!”
“You underestimate him, dear sister. He seems honorable and devoted. You chose well. But he looks waifish. You should make sure he eats better, so he can make you strong children.”
“Did you tell him that?” she squeaked, horrified.
“No. I told him that, since we all failed in making you happy, the task was now his.”
Soromeh couldn’t find words. Kamilah turned to the others, her expression hardening.
“I called forth this meeting because I am unsatisfied with the events that happened during my absence. Sethy, I heard from both Soromeh and Damon, as well as many members of the council. Now, I wish to hear from you.”
Sethy sat in silence, before speaking in a neutral tone. “I let outside voices convince me that these choices were right. I blindly believed the numbers they gave me. I justified a massacre with fear and hate. I allowed them to manipulate me and push away all those who tried to bring me back to the truth.”
Soromeh was showing her displeasure. “Why aren’t you speaking of the immortal demon who controlled your words and actions? The guilt doesn’t sit on your shoulders alone!”
“He didn’t force me, Soromeh. He simply convinced me that every decision I made was for the good of Egypt. If I could have resisted him—”
“Father was under his control for decades! And when he probably managed to get some of his control back, he used it to throw himself off the balcony! But you—”
“You refused to kill me,” muttered Damon, staring at the table.
Sethy turned to him, desperate. Damon didn’t raise his eyes.
“I have a hard time believing in such stories,” said Kamilah, frowning. “But if Soromeh and Damon forgive your actions, I can do the same.”
“I forgive him,” said Soromeh immediately. “I have seen what the gods can accomplish, and I wouldn’t want one in my head.”
“I forgive him,” said Damon.
Sethy let himself fall back on his chair, tension leaving his shoulders.
“Good,” said Kamilah. “I will give you the benefit of the doubt, brother. But while our family’s dealings are private, I cannot ignore the laws you added in my absence.”
Sethy nodded.
“I put an end to the control of births,” said Kamilah. “It’s little and too late. The Hebrews’ losses are immense, and we should expect them to retaliate at some point. We need to take precautions.”
“If it were me,” muttered Soromeh, “I would open the gates and let them raze the palace.”
“This is why you’re not queen,” said Kamilah. “Sethy, even though they spoke in your defense, I am unable to regain the trust I had in you, and I’m not ready to let you reign alone.”
“Are you going to overthrow me?”
“Only if you refuse my offer,” she corrected. “A marriage between you and I, like our ancestors used to do.”
Soromeh grimaced.
“Why complicate things?” asked Sethy with a bit of derision. “Just push me aside and take the crown.”
“Don’t you understand that the country would not survive it? A war inside the royal family would break it in half. A marriage would strengthen the royal line.”
“Just admit you want to rule,” said Soromeh.
“I would have been happy with my son on the throne, but I am forced to act earlier. Decide, Sethy. An alliance or a war.”
“You’re not leaving me a choice.”
“I am leaving you your freedom. Be a good king, a good father for my sons, and you can spend
your nights with whoever you want.”
She tilted her head in Damon’s direction, to be sure they got her point. Damon crossed his arms and frowned. Sethy sat up, on the defensive.
“How—” he started.
“I have known you both since childhood. I am aware of your secrets,” she said, tired. “I care little for who you choose for your beds, as long as the people at your side during the day are suitable.”
“And this is why I’m leaving tomorrow,” added Soromeh, to break the tension. “Sorry, Damon, I’m replacing you with a younger man.”
He smiled weakly. “I’ll survive.”
“I will arrange for your divorce, then,” said Kamilah. “It would be easier if you were both commoners, but there is some precedent in the royal family. Soromeh, you will be able to remarry. You will also get your riches and lands back.”
“Give it all to Damon,” she said with a negligent wave. “Plant banana trees on my lands and throw my jewels to the palace women. I have no intention of coming back.”
Sethy’s hands tightened over the arms of his chair.
“I will restore your name and your reputation,” continued Kamilah. “Documents regarding your disownment and execution will be rewritten, and in enough years, no one will remember them.”
“That’s hard to believe. It was a real show,” she commented with acidity. “The whole kingdom had assembled to see my head roll. I think there were more people there than at my wedding.”
“With the right words, one can rewrite history,” said Kamilah.
“Master Pamiu taught you that, didn’t he,” said Soromeh with venom.
Kamilah nodded.
“All right, I’m bored,” said Soromeh, crossing her arms. “I can’t waste more time. I have a ship to prepare. Which one can I take?”
“Father wanted you to inherit the Victory of Ra.”
“Oh no. That ship is enormous! I’ll need fifty rowers!”
“But I thought you would be more at ease with the Ibis. It’s more discreet and maneuverable and only requires a small crew.”
“That’s better.”
Kamilah stood, signaling an end to the meeting. “Sethy, I will send for you later to discuss the terms of our alliance.”
He nodded and waited for both sisters to leave. The silence stretched out.
Damon was the first to break it. “She offered to give me back my position of vizier.”
“What did you answer?”
“Nothing, yet.”
“Damon, I want to apologize for—”
Damon stopped him with a gesture. “I don’t resent you for… all that. I suffered less than you did, or even Soromeh. But… You didn’t just kick me from your bed. You took my rights and my post, you menaced my wife, and you chased me from my home. How can I be sure it won’t happen again?”
“It won’t! Never again!”
“I thought it would never happen at all, Sethy.”
“Are... Are you going to leave with Soromeh?”
“I’m thinking about it. It would be easy, wouldn’t it? Leave Egypt and sail to new destinations. I could try to retake my father’s kingdom and become the king I could never be, here. It’s tempting.”
He stared out the window, his eyes lost in the darkening sky. Stars were slowly blinking to life.
“Egypt is my home,” he whispered. “But would I be able to stay and work at your side, day after day, and ignore the pain that your presence causes me?”
“Damon, I need you. You are the best and only vizier I want standing at the right of the throne. I need your wisdom, and I trust you. Please, stay.”
Damon nodded, slowly. “I’ll think about it.”
Sethy stared at his wounded arm. Under the bandages, he knew the skin was marred beyond saving. He wished he could remove the linen and see for himself, brush the scar with his own fingers and beg for forgiveness with the press of his lips.
Damon stood up. “I can go back to the right of the throne, but I won’t go back to your bed.”
He left and closed the door behind him. Sethy sat, in silence, in a darkening room.
* * *
Soromeh paced the dock, growing impatient. She supervised the Ibis preparations with the intensity of a hawk and had been complaining all day about the slowness of the workers.
“If they don’t hurry, we’ll lose the light! I refuse to stay within these walls another day!”
“Don’t worry, little princess,” said Hermes, tilting his winged travel hat. “I am more than able to sail in the dark. With the river empty, we can reach the delta by morning.”
“That would be great, if those slugs could get it done!”
Hermes laughed and went on board to help.
Iram, who was standing nearby, readjusted the travel bag on his back. It was the same he had carried during their escape. Soromeh knew it contained a dagger, a veil made of rough fabric, a bottle of perfume, and three leather bracelets with, on one side, her own name carved in gold and on the other, three beloved names written in shaky Hebrew.
Soromeh wished she didn’t have to stand so far from Iram. It was barely more than the length of an arm, but it was necessary to stop her from reaching out. There were still too many eyes on them. She didn’t want to leave Damon’s reputation in shambles.
A group of people reached the docks. She was surprised to see that, in human forms and human clothes, talking to each other like that, there was no way of telling they were immortal beings from opposing clans.
Aïden, covered to her eyes as was her habit, passed her without a word and went to hide in the ship’s cabin. Anubis and Harouk were arguing over several things at the same time. Dewei and Silas followed, and between them was… her.
The angel from the river. Soromeh couldn’t see her burned wings, but she recognized the scars on her face. She also recognized those eyes.
Soromeh gathered her courage and approached her. Iram followed. The other Celestials froze. Terathel fell to her knees, head bowed, trembling.
“Your majesty!” she blurted. “I—I know there’s nothing I can say to make it right—”
Soromeh raised a hand, stopping her. “Listen. You, whatever your name is. They told me what really happened, and I don’t hold it over you, all right? You can come on board my ship and stay however long you want.”
“But—these hands hurt you. Don’t you fear me?”
Soromeh took her chin and raised her face so they could look at each other. She turned it to one side, then the other, looking closely.
“You remind me of someone who gave her life for me,” she said. “Of course, your nose lacks character, but I see her in you. I owe her much, so I’ll open the doors of my home, or my ship, to you. First rule, don’t ever kneel in front of me, unless you lost something in the grass. Understood?”
Terathel nodded and got back on her feet, uncertain. Soromeh turned towards the other Celestials.
“What about you all? Will we need to sleep like a pile of puppies on the Ibis’s cots?”
“Angels don’t sleep—” started Dewei.
“Some angels need sleep,” corrected Harouk. “I fell asleep yesterday.”
“Oh, I have to do that too, now,” groaned Anubis. “Once every two days, more or less. We’ll alternate. At least Aïden will get out of the cabin at night. That’ll make some space.”
Soromeh raised her arm frantically. “I call the cot over the crates for Iram and myself!”
“You don’t need to do that. It’s your ship,” said Dewei.
“I won’t be leaving with you,” said Silas. “That will allow for more space.”
Everyone turned towards him.
“You’re going back to them?” asked Harouk, annoyed.
“My place is at Gabriel’s service.”
Dewei placed a hand on his shoulder. Harouk slapped his back. Silas lost his footing but smiled nonetheless. He turned to Terathel.
“I don’t know if there’s still something of Naími in you,”
he said. “I regret many things, but I will never regret meeting her.”
He touched her cheek, delicately. Terathel, puzzled by the overt affection, just stared. He stepped back, opened his wings, and flew away in the afternoon sky.
The Celestial Conspiracies Page 35