Heart of the Lotus

by Mary R Woldering

  He felt his finger spasm involuntarily.

  “Do you yet see?” she asked him.

  “I do.” Wserkaf lay in Khentie’s arms, entirely relaxed. “A young man; fine of form and lighter brown color than many of us, but with Tjemehu gold streaks twisted into his hair, he whispered as he focused his spirit vision.

  “He is not of our class then,” he heard her puzzle over the description. “I don’t believe we are training anyone of that land.”

  “I do not know him.” Wserkaf answered quickly, then paused as he doubted his own vision. “Wait. I have seen his face before. But now I see that my wdjat glows and stands on one end for him. Heka? It never did this for me,” the Inspector felt his heart pound and his thoughts begin to lose focus.

  “Ask the entity to state its name. Say the Daughter of the God commands it.” Wserkaf heard her voice, but before he could obey the man in his vision acted as if he also heard her request. He answered Wserkaf in thoughts.

  I am Djerah bin Esai. I am learning many things of the Crystal Eye of Truth.

  “You don’t understand. The wdjat shouldn’t… has never…” Wserkaf paused. “Wait,” he felt Khentie bending closer to his lips so she could hear his words without his having to struggle. “I know you. You were just a stonecutter. I got you waived from work to go with Marai. You couldn’t…”

  Wserkaf nearly roused himself trying to regain the face he saw on the other end of his spirit journey. The youth in the vison didn’t resemble the scruffy, limestone-covered character to whom he gave the writ.

  You wonder at my look. I’ve changed, Your Highness. The young man sent thoughts to the suspected question with an almost buttery ease. This, he tapped at his brow.

  Wserkaf couldn’t see a stone, but knew the young man was referring to one he must have been given.

  You are guessing correctly, Your Highness. I was dead for a short time, but saved by the same Children of Stone the priests seek. There were things taught me while I was being repaired – secrets in my heart to unlock, is the term one you know as Marai, uses. I am to be the steersman; the inventor and the engineer. I’m drawing you to me to hear a warning. There is a hidden motive for you to uncover. Walk carefully. You will feel betrayed by those you always believed loved you.

  Wserkaf felt the words the young man sent him and recoiled at the sensation.

  “Betrayed by those who loved me? Khen? Certainly not…” he repeated, but heard her caution him.

  “Wse.”

  I suppose I deserve it, his thoughts saddened, but he refused to speak them aloud. I lied to you about young Naibe... how I felt about her.

  “Wse what is the entity doing to you? Push it away. If it is saying I’ll betray you, don’t trust what you hear. I love you always. Believe it.”

  Wserkaf felt the softness of her lips grazing his brow.

  I see Her Majesty through the small portal of time and space created in this eye. I know only that she would never willingly be the root of the betrayal. Just be wary of all else you will see. You will know what to do when the time comes. Your journey into history is just beginning.

  The image cleared and Wserkaf gasped, then tried to contain his trembling.

  “Wse.”

  He saw her staring into his dark eyes.

  “Come up slowly… slowly.” her voice skillfully lulled him.

  As his thoughts returned to consciousness, the Inspector felt a wave of regret and jealousy pass over him. Marai gave this young commoner a stone. He was nothing; uneducated. He offered me a stone, but I rejected it. It this poor creature my replacement?

  He thought of himself seated on a throne far in the future; never aging and reigning supreme.

  This is Hordjedtef’s dream, not mine. I have no kingship waiting. I have only seen myself aging gracefully; teaching and raising up other royal men’s sons to the priesthoods. He saw himself unifying the factions under the light of Ra and Djehut – the twin Wdjat – one eye right and one left.

  At some point, he and his beloved Khentie lay down in each other’s arms in the solar boat of sunset, their bodies tired and ready for the afterlife. But what of Marai? If he is truly immortal, and those surrounding him are, what becomes of them? he asked himself.

  He sat and looked solemnly at Khentie.

  “What did it say?” she gripped his hands and searched his gaze.

  “It was a message for us to be careful, especially now. We must not betray ourselves or our true motives. I know only that Marai will return to Ineb Hedj.”

  “That’s a blessing then. I thought Maatkare might defeat him. If he lives, then…” Khentie started but Wserkaf drifted in contemplation of what he had seen.

  The sun had fully risen now. Wserkaf turned over and inched forward into the light to see the port of Per-A-At looming in the distance.

  He frowned as he observed the horizon and watched as the smaller reed boats came out to attend the arrival of the Daughter of the God and to tow the boat into its mooring place in the harbor.

  Ignoring the busy men working on the ropes, the Inspector bowed his head to think.

  All is well between father and I, unless it is something else I sense. Is this the betrayal the young man foretold? Why do I suddenly feel dread at my approach to this place; this meeting?

  Khentie grabbed his arm, as if she was also troubled. “I’m worried, Wse. Even though I have authority here…”

  Home. I remember this place so well.

  Wserkaf guided Khentie into the sedan after the few accompanying soldiers and bearers had assembled it. When they had hoisted it on their shoulders, he walked alongside the men; his eyes properly cast to the ground.

  Once they had passed through the entry of the estate, Wse graciously nodded at the maids strewing petals where Khentie would walk. When the bearers lowered her sedan, she was whisked into a royal area and he was welcomed to the guests waiting area to purify himself from his journey.

  None of the new formalities mattered. Wserkaf was still troubled by the encounter with the young stonecutter who had become a host of one of the little stones. He tried to convince himself he had no regrets for his refusal to take one, because that night, when he and Marai sat at the well in the Poor’s market and said their goodbyes, he knew a greater force kept him from going with the big man.

  Duty, I called it, and perhaps a vision of destiny I’ve come to reject. I will put the vision away from myself, he affirmed as he chanted the few words of purification before the god and allowed the waeb priests to wash his feet and hands then shave all but his wispy chin beard.

  Dressed in clean garments, he finally went into the temple greeting area and bowed courteously before his father.

  “Good morning, my son,” a slightly higher pitched and warbling version of his own voice greeted the Inspector.

  Wserkaf paused awestruck at the sight of his father sitting at his official table just the way Hordjedtef sat when officially greeting guests.

  But that’s right. I suppose he didn’t have high office when I left. We were father and son then. Now we are both official representatives of the king.

  The only difference in the outward appearance of the two men’s setup was the lack of writing material and calculating tools before his father. This difference brought up a more unpleasant memory:

  “Recited and memorized chants and incantations, knowledge in verse passed on to those with skills to divine them. Such is your gift, given by Ra himself to you. See you do not squander it by wasting efforts with calculations of the stars when divining and scrying have more of the god’s knowledge in them.”

  Wse remembered their last bitter conversation before he left to study with Hordjedtef.

  But I was a child of ten years, father, seduced by verifiable knowledge and ways other than your recitation of myth and vision.

  Over the past months he had come to Per-A-At twice. On those occasions, he met his father at his small house near the temple. The subject of his youthful departure never came up.
Today, Wse felt his father’s thoughts on the matter much more clearly. The old man cleared his throat.

  “Rise and approach. I’ve had an impatient night, but I won’t bite you.”

  Wserkaf shrugged and walked forward, a cryptic smile on his face. The elder rose and moved around the low table toward him.

  “That will be all for now,” he clapped a signal to the assembled priests.

  “No. No, go on,” Wserkaf urged, waving his hands.

  “We were finished, merely chatting, and I trust you would rather speak to me as a son than as a fellow priest. Our brothers in Ra have no interest in such matters.”

  Wserkaf had reached the old man by that time and embraced him. Once again, the years melted away, but Wse hesitated as they touched. Something’s not right. I sensed it. Now I know it.

  “Good to see you,” he smiled, but quickly added in a quieter voice, “Have you been ill? Sahure didn’t tell me…”

  “I’m old, Wse. I’m not as keen or gifted in the art of longevity as some you know. My bones ache,” he smiled, but Wserkaf sensed more than a passing fever afflicted him. He knew his father was making a veiled jab at Hordjedtef, who roared past the age of seventy-five and had only recently begun to slow down.

  “You’re barely sixty years old,” he blurted.

  “Mmm. A number is meaningless when the heart lies in another realm and has done so for many years,” Elder Userre turned and guided his son to a seat. Once the area was clear of other priests, scribes, and servants, he bent to him. “My heart has begun to pain me. It’s unsteady,” he whispered the last part. “It’s why we need to go over the real reason you’re here.”

  When Wserkaf heard about his father’s heart, he stopped listening to anything else.

  “Then you should come back with Khen… Her Majesty and me to meet with the best physics.” He felt his own voice and temperature rise as his subconscious sensed another person’s presence, but didn’t fully realize who it was until he heard a familiar voice.

  “He has all the care he can need, Wse dear. I’m so glad I arrived in time.”

  Wserkaf’s head snapped around to see Hordjedtef moving toward them on his two canes. There was nothing he could do for king, father, or country that his former teacher would not sense at once.

  “Your Highness,” he felt the blood leaving the back of his head as he re-heard the vision of Djerah’s message about being betrayed. “This is a surprise.”

  Chapter 12: Left in the Dark

  You. How did… He let the thought slip, looked away from Hordjedtef, and saw Khentie and her attendant entering the open plaza. Wserkaf stifled his thoughts to mask his own shock and concentrated on preventing an outburst from his wife. He saw her pause, bow her head, and then continue to walk toward him and the other two men with a trained calm and passionless gaze. Wserkaf instantly leapt back on guard when he thought he saw Hordjedtef knowingly smile.

  As he went through the motions of formal greeting, the inspector spoke only the necessary words to avoid showing how distracted he truly was. He felt dizzy, as if he was slipping into another trance, and wondered if it was his own anxiety creating the feeling or if the Great One of Five was toying with him.

  Following their greetings, the four of them reclined at low dining tables as servants brought out a light lunch. While Userre and Hordjedtef parried with each other in light conversation about their respective priesthoods, Wserkaf remained silent as a polite acolyte. He reached for Khentie’s hand under the low board and squeezed it from time to time to reassure her, but stopped when he sensed the thought from Hordjedtef.

  Surprised to see me, aren’t you, Dear One?

  Wserkaf sighed and stared at his hands, hoping only to endure the shock.

  Eventually, after all had eaten, the outdoor heat became noticeable. In such weather, it was always practical for everyone to retire to the cool darkness of their private chambers for a period of rest.

  Wserkaf found his moment and broke the polite banter. “Hot for the middle of Akhet, isn’t it? Let us not tire my father, Great One. Perhaps a nap would be good for all of us,” he trained his eyes on both men, still wondering about the hint of betrayal mentioned in his vision. The last time he had bothered to ask, his father and his teacher still despised each other. Today they acted as if they had been fast friends for as many years.

  “Ah, a good idea,” Userre smiled, repeating the knowing wink to his son. When Wse, Hordjedtef, and Khentie rose, their attendants scrambled to assist.

  Wserkaf overheard Hordjedtef, who had tottered a few steps with Khentie, attempting to charm her.

  “Oh, Your Great Majesty. Imagine my surprise to see you. Were you not told that I had business with my old brother in the priesthoods?” Wserkaf heard him chirp pleasantly as he caught up with them. “I had thought your journey was to be two days hence and by that time I would be returning to Ineb Hedj with some final instructions for the transfer of title to our dear Wse. After that, I would retire to my southern estate and plan to see you whenever your duty brought you to Khmenu.”

  I don’t think so, Wserkaf’s eyes bugged out at the audacity of the statement, but he kept his doubt silent. Shepsesi would have told me if he had given the assignment to see Userre to both of us, Wserkaf paused, attempting to spin his own clever story.

  “His majesty consulted with me about delivering some edicts concerning temple tribute and the Ra component of the transfer of kingship at the coronation,” Wse rattled, wondering if the gods were moving his lips as he spoke. He wasn’t sure of anything he was saying and hoped the old man didn’t pick up his fear like a vulture picks up the scent of a corpse. Circling like one though, he thought, with a glance at the blistering angle of the winter sun.

  “We’ll all rest then,” the Inspector continued, beginning to lead Khentie gently away from the elder. “Her Majesty and I would like to rest, then walk the grounds before evening. We’ll talk again after I speak with my father,” he turned but felt the thought coming from his elder:

  I’m sure you will talk to me. Got you in a stir, now, Dear One, don’t I?

  As soon as they enclosed themselves in the chamber provided for royal guests and Wserkaf sent Mya and his own servant away, Khentie exhaled. Her face darkened in rage.

  “What in Sobek’s infernal court. Oooh!” her fists clenched and she paced. “The gall of that lying…”

  “Shh. He’ll hear you,” Wserkaf grabbed her quickly and held her tightly, swaying back and forth.

  “I hope he does,” she hissed. “He needs to know in no uncertain terms that I don’t want him anywhere near me. Who do you think told him to rush up here ahead of us?”

  The Inspector ushered her to a softly arrayed bed and got her to sit. He poured wine from a waiting beaker and held it forward.

  “I should get drunk, now?” she looked up, then almost smiled. “I feel like doing it, but how would that go? That was Our Father’s defense and likely Meryt’s whenever the stench of the Nekhen spawn drifted too close and stayed too long.” She sipped, quieted, and looked up. “But not me, and not our brother. Still…”

  “I told him we were going in two days and that I was taking you. I never said we would leave early. He just said that it would be nice for me to take you away from all of the funeral preparations for a few days,” Wserkaf half apologized, wondering if any of the things he had said had inspired his teacher’s early journey.

  “Well someone either told him, or my brother forgot he was going to be here and he, for one, is clear of thought.” She set her cup aside and reached up to embrace her husband of many years.

  “Come here. Your Majesty demands you walk with her in the gardens. I want to get far from these walls where our reviled Great One is not likely to follow. We do not need to entertain that nasty old serpent with talk. He’ll be at his death to overhear us as it is.”

  The Daughter of the God and her consort lay embracing on the narrow bed, trying to put thoughts of the day far away from themselves. The
y had gone for a walk and toured the gardens, then had returned for a short dedication ceremony in which the statue they brought was placed near the Solar Ray monument that rose in the temple courtyard. Then, after they had eaten the evening feast, they excused themselves and settled to rest. Throughout the meal, Hordjedtef had hovered near Userre, prattling about this and that. He had briefly called Wserkaf aside to set up an arrangement for the final lectures and a few more personal visits in Ineb Hedj.

  He sounded so earnest, Wse recalled, it’s as if we never encountered Marai or the women; as if they didn’t exist and all was back to normal between us. It was too smooth. But that’s how he’s always excelled. He can mask his feelings most of the time. The days with Marai studying at his feet were the only times I ever saw through that veil. Now, I will always suspect him of treachery.

  Wserkaf drifted with Khentie in his arms. Despite the heat of the day, the night was cool enough that they didn’t need a fanner as they drowsed.

  Cool now, he thought, but heard a shuffle outside the draped door. Damn him. If Hordjedtef is about to interrupt our coming dreams, I’ll feel the urge to send a dream to him.

  “Wser…” a voice whispered.

  Father, he recognized and carefully rose from the bed so that Khentie would not wake. Tiptoeing across the polished stone floor to the drape, he pulled it aside and saw the old man carrying a lamp to light his way. No servant or acolyte was with him.

  “What is it?” Wserkaf whispered.

  “We have not been able to meet privately so far. I told you I would need a word; many in fact, once I could be certain there were no ears on us.”

  Wserkaf frowned at his father’s relaxed candidness. For most of his adult life, the man had been distant. The Inspector always felt it was his own fault. That he entered a different priesthood despite his parents’ pleas to stay away from the Great One was wound enough. When his mother died and his father even forbade him to come to her funeral he assumed there would never again be peace between them.