by D.A. Dean
Chapter 25: Trials and Deceptions
Maeta pushed Saien back and shouted, "Enough. Fassah, stand down. Korris, marshal your guard. Priestesses, halt." She pivoted to face Nalia and Tatuuf, a slight hiss escaping her lips. "You, Priestess, and you, Chieftain, sit and maintain silence until I tell you to speak. Fassah, Korris, Nahtaeya, all of you, move back. You, Son of a Priestess, I command you to sit. And you, Saien," she said and took a breath, "will also return to your seat."
Tatuuf, Nalia, and Saien moved to their mats.
Fassah and Korris lowered behind Tatuuf, the other warriors moving into a loose semi-circle behind them. Several paces back, the priestesses formed a ring.
Horus lowered his hands from his head, touched Teo's arm, and took to his mat beside Nalia. He glanced at her and bowed his head. How could he have made such a mistake?
Gaze fixed to Fassah, Teo returned to his mat. He didn't sheath his knife.
Maeta turned sharply among them. "There will be no more of this. I will tell each of you when and how you may act." She sat, back straight, chin high. "I take your silence as understanding and acceptance."
Teo responded, "I accept your authority as high priestess, but I don't accept or propose to submit to—"
"Silence. You're a fool."
Horus lifted his head.
"I won't—" Teo clenched his jaw, shaking his head at Nalia, who was staring at him, head tipped to the side.
Maeta's gaze settled on Nalia. "Your son seems far from understanding, Priestess. What does that imply about your ability to control this one?" she asked, pointing threateningly at Horus.
Nalia responded, "Control the Son of Isis and Osiris? What you speak of is—"
"Silence," Maeta commanded.
Horus pressed the heels of his hands against his knees. "Maeta."
Maeta kept her gaze on Nalia. "The one in your charge incites riot. Your son holds no understanding and is no better than a servant. You're no better than a counterfeit."
Brows down, Teo wrenched back his shoulders. "You go too far. You think—"
"Silence, Son of a Priestess, or incur my wrath."
"Maeta," Horus bit out, eyes narrowed.
Saien shifted his weight.
"Hold where you are, Saien." Maeta looked across at Horus. "A fierce scowl."
"I recognize it was your assertion of authority that calmed the chaos I created. I recognize, as well, there's still a lot for me to learn. I regret the confusion and anxiety I caused. I'd like to work to bridge it. First, there's something I wish to make clear. As I said, Nalia and Teo are my circle. You don't have the authority to command them." Horus let his eyes flash.
Maeta's shoulders twitched.
"If you believe what you've said to them, we've all wasted our time." Horus paused, softening his gaze. "However, I think you used the opportunity I presented through my error to bait me. I think what you said to Nalia and Teo wasn't meant but was, instead, part of my test. Though I could be mistaken. So, I ask you, Maeta. Have we wasted our time?"
Lacing her fingers, Maeta drew a breath. "No."
"I'm pleased to hear it. One more point. You've been treated with respect. You'd be well advised to extend the respect you've received."
The warriors' whispers ceased.
Maeta held her expression at neutral. "Are you issuing a command?"
"A condition." Horus examined the palm-size grey and white stone nestled at the edge of his mat. "You, of course, may make the choice to leave. I'd like to continue. But I ask you. Do you wish to leave? Or do you wish to continue?" He lifted his gaze.
Maeta moistened her lips. "I wish to continue."
"Good." Horus rested his elbows on his knees, his shoulder muscles loosening.
Maeta turned to Tatuuf. "Chieftain, your questions."
Tatuuf took a long breath and shifted to face Horus. "A few moments ago, you spoke of duty. What do you consider yours to be?"
Horus nodded. "The simple answer is this. To restore order. I understand that's what's expected, needed, of me."
"The deeper answer?" Tatuuf asked.
Horus replied, "To be a leader worthy of those who would follow."
Tatuuf dropped his gaze and was silent.
"You have another question," Horus said. "You want to know if I'm prepared for what lies ahead."
Tatuuf's brows lifted. "Yes. Are you?"
"I know I must be. My knowledge and experience are limited, but I understand what's at stake. I'm prepared to become who and what I must to meet my duty. I value Nalia and Teo's guidance in this. It's my hope, Tatuuf, Maeta," Horus said and turned his gaze out to sweep over the warriors and priestesses, "friends, that I may find guidance among you, as well."
Maeta smoothed her gown. "Are you proposing to disrupt or hold to the order established by Isis and Osiris?"
Horus gave her a small smile. "I should have thought that apparent. I recognize the importance of stability and," he said and gave Nalia a slight bow, "I recognize the courage it's taken on the part of those who've remained true to the order established during the Golden Days and to my parents."
Expression inscrutable, Maeta pursued, "But you do want to create changes."
"Over time, yes, but let me be clear. I don't plan to take away power from either the warriors or the priestesses. The power I wish to lessen is my own. By this, I mean I hope to bridge the divide between us."
Maeta's expression hardened. "Then you hope to undermine yourself and take away the power of the elders, chieftains, and high priestesses."
Horus angled his jaw. Sharply, he said, "I hope to have people follow me because they trust me, not because they fear me or what might happen if they 'displease' me."
Pressing his palms to his knees, Horus took a breath. More calmly, he continued, "If I rely only on others' fear to force them to follow me, then I undermine myself. As for the human leaders, it's my desire to increase their power—but not at the expense of those who follow them. If I find skill and knowledge outside the rings of leadership, I won't ignore it. Maeta, Tatuuf, I believe you wouldn't either."
Abruptly, Tatuuf sat back.
Korris leaned to Fassah and whispered, "Did you see that? The shade of his eyes changed."
Horus glanced at Nalia and then, not wishing to again cause alarm, lowered his gaze to his hands.
Tatuuf motioned for silence. He straightened, seeming to fortify himself, and said, "A leader must issue commands and know they'll be carried out."
Horus shifted to face him. "Yes, and how much greater certainty a leader may have if the people believe, if they know, their best interests are at heart, if they see their leader strives to serve them."
"Strive to serve?" Tatuuf asked quietly, as if speaking to himself. He tapped his lips. More loudly he added, "Even a king?"
"Especially a king," Horus responded.
Tatuuf blinked. Astonishment in his eyes, he spread his hand over his mouth and turned his head away.
Feeling those behind and to the sides studying him, Horus suppressed the urge to roll his shoulders.
Tatuuf returned his gaze to Horus'. "Next question. If you'll permit. What of discipline?"
"A king's or those who stand with him? A king must master himself and hope those around him will let him know when he falters, just like anyone else. Those who've come with you today, it seems to me, are highly disciplined. I'd guess that to be a result, in part, of their wish to serve well the leaders who serve them well."
After giving his head a short bow in acknowledgement, Tatuuf draped his arms over his knees. "What of those who break ranks?"
"Impossible to say in general terms. The response would depend on the circumstances."
"But there would be a response?" Tatuuf's gaze intensified. "Under what circumstance would you order someone's death?"
Horus' eyebrows shot up. Was Tatuuf now baiting him? Or did he believe there were circumstances that demande
d such a response? Horus sat back.
Tatuuf continued, pressing, "Under what circumstance would you order Teo or Nalia to die?"
Horus glanced at them. Clasping his hands together, he focused on the smoothness of his mat. "With respect, Chieftain, under what circumstance would you order your brother or mother's death?"
A warrior whispered, "Did he just say—"
"Quiet," Tatuuf called softly. Stroking his chin, he shifted his gaze between Horus, Teo, and Nalia. Finally, he nodded. "Then what of another warrior or priestess? What of someone sitting with us?"
"I'd hold the same loathing for that decision no matter whose life was at stake, and I'd consider it only if there were no other option."
"Yet, in this war, many warriors and priestesses, on both sides, will die. The orders they receive will send them to their deaths."
"I—" Horus stopped, faltering. "Am aware of that."
"Hesitation on the battlefield can condemn those who follow as surely as any command."
"I'm aware of that, as well." Horus clenched his jaw. "In my battle with Kafar—"
Tatuuf's head jerked. "This was the warrior you faced?"
"Red hair, black eyes, scars."
"Yes." Tatuuf exchanged glances with Korris. "Go on."
Horus continued, "Teo tried to protect me, but magic was used against us. I saw the danger Teo was in. I lost my grip on my spear. As a result of my fear, my hesitation, Teo almost died. I've endeavored to learn from that experience."
"I see." Tatuuf glanced at Maeta. "And what do you feel you've learned?"
"Not to drop my spear." The warriors laughed, and Horus paused. "I learned how to put into practice what Teo has taught me about fighting, including the use of weapons and strategy, how to put into practice what Nalia has taught me of tactics, including the use of thought and emotion. So far, I have a better mastery of Teo's lessons.
"I learned Seht's use of fear to foster hate was too powerful for Kafar to overcome and that, as Teo told me, 'tragedy exists in every victory'. I wept for Kafar, driven by fear. I wept for myself, forced to choose between Kafar's death or mine or my family's.
"I learned, though I wish with all I am there was another way, I must face the horrors of battle, and I must ask others to subject themselves to it with me."
Tatuuf dropped his gaze. Hand spread over his mouth, he motioned Maeta to continue.
"There remains," Maeta said, "the first matter. Proof is still needed."
"Then, High Priestess, ask your questions."
Maeta assumed again the posture of a priestess. "What color are Queen Isis' eyes?"
A trick? Horus tilted his head. "They're multicolored. As you know."
"What is her favorite food?"
"Bread. No, it's figs. I think." Horus bit his lip, his sudden sadness somehow deepened by his confusion. "I don't have much memory of her time on the island."
"Well, then, King Osiris' eyes. What color are they?"
Horus blinked at his hands.
"Surely a son would know the eyes of his father?"
"I've never seen them."
Maeta leaned nearer. "I didn't hear you."
"He's spoken to me, but I've never actually met him."
"I see," Maeta said, her tone conveying the unspoken admonishment.
Horus spread his fingers over his brows, shielding his eyes.
Tatuuf cleared his throat.
"You wish to speak, Chieftain?" Maeta asked.
Gently, Tatuuf said, "On the occasions I had the honor of being called before him, his eyes were grey."
Grey. Scratching his cheek, Horus caught a quick tear. He shook his head at himself. This was no time to wallow in his own sorrows. He dropped his hand, gave Tatuuf a short nod of gratitude, and then lifted his chin.
"Well, then," Maeta said and paused, her voice softening, "we will try something else." She signaled Tatuuf, and he motioned the warriors to move back.
Horus angled toward Maeta, giving her his full focus.
"What are your gifts?"
Unsure whether he should answer, Horus glanced at Nalia, who stretched, signaling him to continue. "Right. Well, as you saw," he said and shrugged, "I know Flight."
"Indeed." Maeta arched her eyebrow. "What more?"
Horus searched his memory, trying to recall what Nalia and Teo had noted. "I sometimes receive messages."
"From Isis, yes, of course," Maeta said and sighed.
"Well, yes. What I meant, though, was I sometimes receive messages from nature, from trees or hills or birds."
Maeta's head tilted almost imperceptibly. "Go on."
"I sometimes have visions, though I usually don't know what to make of them. The dreams, however," Horus said, fixed his hands to his knees, and stared past her, "are usually pretty clear."
"You fear these dreams?"
"No. But they can be...unsettling."
"Yes," Maeta agreed and stilled. "Chieftain, continue."
Had her voice held a quaver?
Tatuuf waited for Horus' attention. "Did you move the island? Forgive my asking, but as you know there has been some question concerning this."
"Yes, Chieftain. I moved it."
"Not Queen Isis? Or Seht?"
"Seht? Why would he do it? No, actually, I imagine he's at least a little put out," Horus said and chuckled. Thinking suddenly of what Seht's displeasure might mean for those near him, his smile faded.
Maeta resumed, "How was it done?"
"How did I do it, you mean?" Horus asked evenly. "Quite simply. Not easily, mind you. But simply. I finally realized the island rested on water. Oh, yes, another thing we have in common, Maeta, Tatuuf. I also—what is it?"
Maeta's posture had gone rigid. She pressed her hands tightly together. "You commanded water?"
"To move the island, yes." Both hope and fear in her eyes? Horus ducked his head, but she averted her gaze.
"Go on," Maeta instructed. "What else do we have in common?"
Horus tapped his lips, considering, first the swift deflection then the question. "Well, like Teo and like you, Tatuuf, I aspire to be a true warrior."
Hand atop his head, Tatuuf sat back.
The warriors nudged each other.
"Like Nalia and like you, Maeta," Horus said, "I aspire to grow in the ways of healing."
With a nod as if to herself, Maeta lowered her shoulders. "Indeed. Your priestess claims you know a high way of healing. The highest way. One whose name only those priestesses and warriors approved by Isis are meant to know.
"One only those women chosen by Isis to stand trial before the elements may observe. One only those women who pass the trial may attempt. One few of even these ever come to glimpse through their own powers. A way only the highest select conquer. You know of which way I speak?"
"I can think of such a way," Horus answered slowly, "though I wouldn't use the word 'conquer' in relation to it."
"No? What word would you use?"
"Control. Though I've come to think of another word, one I feel is more appropriate, which is cooperation." Horus returned Nalia's smile.
Maeta softly clapped her hands, recalling Horus' attention. "What is this way?"
"The Way of Flame."
Tatuuf gasped then leaned to Maeta, murmuring, "How is it possible? How could he know this?"
"He could have been told." Placidly, Maeta gazed out toward the encampment. "Saien. The pouch."
Saien hesitated. Brows twitching together, he lowered the pouch onto Maeta's lap.
A priestess shifted uneasily.
"No, Nahtaeya. Remain where you are." Maeta unfastened the pouch's carved bone toggle. Staring into Horus' eyes, she said, "Prove to me you're Isis' son," and slipped her hand inside.
"I don't understand. What do you propose I—"
Maeta's shoulders jerked. Pale, she pulled her hand from the pouch, the two spots of blood indicating the bite making clea
r the proof she sought. Grimacing, she fell onto her side.
Nahtaeya and the other priestesses darted forward. The warriors inched closer.
"Stay back," Nalia commanded.
Maeta began to convulse.
Tatuuf grasped Nalia's arm. Urgently, he pleaded, "Tell me what you said was true."
"Yes," Nalia assured. "All of it."
Shaking his head, Horus went to Maeta. "Extreme. You're lucky I'm not an impostor."
Breath shallow, Maeta reached blindly for him.
"It hurts. I know. Hold on." Clenching his jaw, Horus fastened his hands over her wrist. Could he repeat what he'd done on the island? He must. He bowed his head, concentrating, and called, "Flame, know the voice of your bidder. Happy to—hey," he said and sat back.
Nalia rushed to kneel beside him. "What's wrong?"
"There's no venom."
Maeta opened her eyes and smiled.
Horus gave a quick, low growl and returned to his mat. "Well played, High Priestess."
Maeta nodded to Saien, and he sheathed his knife.
Frowning, Horus crossed his arms. "Well? Satisfied with your proof?"
In answer, Maeta motioned Tatuuf to join her and stood, arms outstretched. She said to the priestesses and warriors, "Come. Witness the breaking of a new dawn."
Voices low, words hurried, they drew nearer then hushed.
Countenance bright, Maeta proclaimed, "Behold, the Son of Isis and Osiris. Behold...."
Tatuuf's voice rang out, "King Horus."
Hands to their hearts, the warriors dropped to their knees, and cupped hands lifted high, the priestesses sank beside them.
Tatuuf wiped his cheeks. "O King," he said and lowered to his knees. "My life is yours."
Silent, Maeta drew nearer. Head bowed, she knelt and reverently whispered, "O, Horus, Mysterious and Majestic."
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