Heart of the Lotus

by Mary R Woldering

  Then they both waved goodbye to Naibe.

  “Lie down, Ariennu,” Djerah suggested, “but leave room for me.”

  “Oh Ho, listen to you now,” Ari teased. “See. You can smell my heat, eh?” she laughed, “but now you’ll flip this little boat over if we start.”

  Not what you think, Djerah laughed inwardly, then positioned himself beside her.

  “I thought, with the help of this thing I could fly this over to where Marai and the Akaru are and get them if they were ready to go,” he smiled. A strand of gold hair fell into his eyes and glistened in the lamp light.

  “Now that is such a pity,” Ariennu looked at him, finding his eyes. “Scared you away, didn’t I? I’m not asking to be your wife. It’s just for a good time and then we move on. Goddess ‘Shera’s sake, I have needs too and no telling when Marai will get back.”

  “Ariennu, stop. I like you, but I came out here to work on the boat. Marai’ll be back soon enough.”

  “Aww, no fun at all,” she continued, but by that time the stonecutter knew she was pretending her disappointment.

  Djerah balanced the Wdjat between the lashing of the extended pole where it crossed the bow, making sure it couldn’t slip and fall in the river. It glimmered, as if it was thinking about a possible solution. He shivered in odd excitement when he felt wisp of wind tease his hair because the night had been dead calm and muggy before that instant.

  “There –” Djerah took a deep breath in anticipation, then let it out, defeated. “Well, that wasn’t much.” Shutting his eyes and breathing calmly as he had seen Marai do on his trip up the river, he paddled the boat out a little further. He opened his eyes to briefly glance back at Ari lying seductively in the bottom of the boat. A sudden lurch propelled the wooden craft forward and then it trembled as if the planking itself anticipated something marvelous.

  He glanced again and saw Ariennu’s eyes pop open with the next lurch. She grinned from ear to ear, sat, and threw her arms around Djerah’s shoulders.

  “Here. Maybe if we both do it we can make it go faster. I see you’re trying the breathing energy. Marai showed me how to do that. Breathe with me,” she embraced him and calmly began to breathe with him.

  “Your heart is racing like a scared animal,” she whispered. “Slow it down… way down.”

  Djerah tried, breathing in and out; each time slower and trying to match Ari’s breathing. A light-headed feeling made him want to collapse into her arms.

  She bent to him and kissed him very lightly.

  “I…” he hesitated, thinking this was just another ploy of hers to seduce him. But do I want to refuse her? It seems almost right, even though Marai…

  “Oh, you silly man. See the fire we build together? Amazing? Now feel the fire extending down into your el, how it twitches and wants to stand but is still frightened of me? Doesn’t matter. That’s good. Pull that fire from the lotus point there in your loin, the seed that readies itself as you grow hard with want. Don’t let it come forth. Don’t release it. Draw its energy back in and through your body, up your back and through the top of the head.”

  He felt as if he was floating in the midst of his extreme arousal. It had been quick and intense, but now frustrating.

  What is this? Too much… I don’t want to… not here.

  “Oh yes you do. It’s the Children. I guess no one ever told you they love pleasure and it makes them stronger. See? Breathe it out,” she whispered gently at his cheek, letting him know that his thoughts were no secret. “Make the power build. Make the light grow. Make the boat feel as light as you do. Rise up.”

  “Light, light, swift. She goes; light to you…” Ariennu’s naughty laugh whispered through her lips.

  Light, light, swift

  The voices burst like a myriad of singing whispers in their hearts.

  “There. Hear that? Say it with them again ‘Light, light, swift’ and more quickly.”

  Light, light, swift

  The oars snapped to attention and ripped themselves from Djerah’s hands so fast they made them burn. They mimicked the movement of rowing he had made and began to work the boat forward.

  Light, light, swift, light, light, swift

  Djerah’s hands filled with a golden glow and moved the oars; barely touching them.

  The voices wove over each other, singing in jubilant harmony like a chorus of:

  “The melek! Messengers of Yahweh!” Djerah cried out. “Savta Oora’s melek voices. Singing. I hear them in my head,” he gasped and his mouth stayed open in ecstasy. “Yes! Light, light, swift!” he felt as if he was rising up from the seat. Wind pushed hard against his closed eyes. He wanted to open them, but couldn’t.

  “Goddess! You’re turning to solid gold and glowing. Djerah…” He heard Ariennu’s voice as if it was a league away.

  Daring to crack one eye open he saw his own golden, glowing shoulder. It was only the beginning. Trying to keep relaxed he tried to sneakily slide and eye open to witness what was happening.

  It is well

  Witness the joy

  The voices lulled and he opened his eyes to see a mysterious light arc from his own body and run along the outside edge of the pole. It moved through the Wdjat and out to the lashed edges, making them look like edges of a sword blade fashioned of lightning that was changing slowly into something more like legs. With each automatic stroke of the oar, the surrounding light became more brilliant, pushing the boat even faster.

  Light, light, swift the cadence shimmered in its insistent chorus. Djerah sat up in wonder and heard Ariennu’s cackle of laughter rising beside him as the dark tree and cliff shapes on the shore flitted by faster and faster.

  The golden glow of the edge of the boat surrounded them like a pink and orange field that, to Djerah, resembled the way the inside of his eyelids looked when he faced the sun. He heard a slight popping noise that sounded like a wax stopper being pried from a narrow-necked beer jar. The wind, which had nearly pressed him flat in the bottom of the boat, suddenly stopped as a sunrise colored glow surrounded the boat. Djerah saw this but realized he was powering this and was so deep in a trance that Ari had been right. He was glowing and golden all over. He saw her become more than a silent but encouraging witness. Her own rainbow patterns bounced from the wdjat and shimmered over her arms like ecstasy transformed into light.

  “Beautiful!” he cried then remembered to cry out: “Light! Light! Swift!”

  The cross pole that balanced the boat to the outside planking and the new sapling pole had become fused to the front of the boat and surrounded in gold.

  Something new was forming from the ordinary boat. Extending from the pole on either side was a sheer membrane that resembled extended scarab wings. As soon as they were complete, they began to blur and hum like real insect wings.

  A scarab? A gold and metal scarab? he thought. The wings adjusted and the pinkness surrounding it opened for a moment to show him where they were.

  Flying… and there below a burning village at night, lower flames almost done.

  Something startled him. It was the cry of a lioness that had merged with a woman’s scream and then became the statement:

  Stay Away.

  Then, Djerah heard something that sounded like the voice of the prince followed by echoing sounds of misery and weeping.

  Maybe I’m wasting my time. This is stupid. See me acting like a fool down here? You see this? See?

  A second voice joined in.

  Deka. I’ll come up. We’ll talk this out. That you can trust.

  Djerah knew that was Marai. Predictably, his statement was followed by a growl of displeasure from the prince.

  The stonecutter wanted to look for them, but a feeling of peace and sensuality swept over the vessel as if loving arms were protecting it from harm. He peeked, confident that the boat would stay aloft. It winged lower toward two men standing near an enormous tree surrounded by ruined bricks.

  “I remember now. It’s all gone. Ruined and destro
yed.” The woman’s voice echoed and became a lion scream again. “Ta-Te! Ptah-t’a-tenen-amun. Return to me! Don’t leave your Deka!”

  No. You are loved and will always be loved – by us. He is gone.

  Djerah recognized a different thought-voice – Naibe. Baby?

  Next, he heard Maatkare’s voice chime in, sulking.

  There’s no point in any of this…

  Djerah heard Ariennu’s faint voice in the background as well, yelling at him to dodge. Something bright struck the boat, followed by an angry shout from Marai.

  Hey! What are you doing?

  The voices of Marai, Deka, Ariennu Maatkare, and oddly enough Naibe scrambled over each other in confusion and the boat began to drift down toward the land over which it sailed.

  “Oh… No, no, no…” Djerah suffered. “Turn around, turn around and go home. Light, light, swift…”

  The boat tipped and banked and Ariennu screamed before the pink encompassed the boat again. In moments, it sat in the water near Qustul Amani. Along the shore, crowds of people held lanterns and roared out cheers.

  “I – I, did this? Really?” he fell to one side, exhilarated but exhausted. He felt the rush of excitement as his heart sped up and began to pound. Ariennu’s gentle, but skilled hands worked his heaving, sweat soaked shoulders, bringing him to full rest. His eyes filled with sweat and happy tears made it almost impossible to see more than lights and shouts along the river. When he turned over and mopped his eyes enough to see, he caught Ariennu’s expression of pride.

  “See. See. Your power…” She chirped proudly as if she had watched a child take its first steps. She laughed, threw her arms around his shoulders, tousled his hair, and kissed his face; excited beyond words.

  “I just wanted to go faster,” he panted, still winded from exertions which had been hidden and mental during the effort but had exhausted him as much as if he had personally sprouted wings and carried the boat on his shoulders. “I had no idea it would really fly.”

  He crawled to the edge of the boat and looked for the gold-boned wings that had powered it. They were still there.

  The boat tipped back as Djerah pushed the water with his oar that had become a wing and made it move like a fish fin. His thoughts continued to riot as he studied the way the boat had changed and wondered if it would change back once they arrived at the mooring post. It still resembled a plain boat, but a glimmering and sheer membrane hung like thick spider webbing from the oars. Gold tube framing had replaced the wooden sapling he had placed across the prow. The prow itself had grown a keel that curved backward almost to the mast. The support rope and rigging now appeared as if they could protect the passengers against the higher speeds.

  Higher speed? Instant speed. It’s more like leaping up, then gliding. And the singing that became part of me and my thoughts like the purring of a giant cat. Everything came from the Wdjat and filled me. That sound! Humming that my thoughts only increased with her touch, he looked at Ariennu and wondered if the feelings she had wakened would need to be answered soon.

  She had aroused him, but it had been different that he had expected. The breathing thing built me up so fast and then to contain it and make it do other things like lift this boat? He laughed like a boy discovering the joys of his own erection. This is different, though. Sacred. Holy. I wanted to melt into her body so bad, he remembered the purring and stared at her again. Her expression was calm and reflective, as if she knew what he was experiencing and knew it was no laughing or teasing matter this time.

  I thought I had fainted from joy when that popping noise woke me. Thieves though, if that gold stays on the boat, word will get out and they will be at their death to steal that boat whole or in broken pieces worse than at the building sites for the kings.

  “I know what you mean,” Ariennu spoke up suddenly, indicating she either felt his thoughts or that, having been a thief herself, realized the truth. “Feeling level enough to walk yet? Looks like we have a crowd gathering on the shore. It’s almost morning – I can see the sun just starting to come up.”

  Djerah crawled to the prow of the gently purring vessel, grasped the Wdjat and stones mounted in the prow, and gave it a stout tug. The faint noise whinnied down and stopped. Climbing into the water, with the towrope slung over one arm, he pulled the boat in to the stone mooring on the bank. A warm glimmer of air radiated behind him while he threaded the rope through the hole in the stone post. Turning once, he noticed an opaque prismatic light forming over the vessel.

  “I’m better,” he answered. Then, after observing for a while, he remarked: “So now it’s going back. Too bad it didn’t do that when we were in the air. This will be hard to explain,” Djerah turned to help Ari from the boat, but found she had already hoisted her skirt and was wading to the shore. Going out to make sure she didn’t slip in the mud, he touched the place where the wings had been and felt them folded up under the illusion of the wood boat.

  “I dunno. What’s the name of the sun god here? Horus, or in these parts maybe Mandulis?” she suggested, then paused with a giddy laugh. “Well damn. I get it now. Deka’s calling Marai Man-Sun, maybe trying to remember Mandulis? That’s funny.” Then, she pursed her lips. “Just say Mandulis was trying to help us try to find their lost sister and leave it at that.”

  “I suppose…” Djerah trailed, inwardly dreading the thought of talking about a god when the real one might be offended. He tucked the Wdjat and the handful of now-loosened stones into the chamois and headed back inside the city walls to the enclosed plaza despite the clamor of the crowd. Ariennu stayed behind. He heard her fabricating some tale about gods and secretly hoped these new events wouldn’t change things too greatly. For now, he trudged wearily up to collapse in sleep. He was glad Ari was handling the crowd and telling the tales so he could go to sleep alone without distraction.

  Chapter 23: Remembering

  Marai caught up with Prince Maatkare when he was not far from the edge of the unburned grass and brush outside Buhen. He had rounded up a small detachment from the outskirts of the encampment and was heading into the overgrown tangle of denser shrub and twisted, unburned trees. The fire had raged in the other direction. Maatkare had told his men that if Deka was still alive, she would likely have gone in that direction for cover. The sojourner made no secret of his approach.

  “You know, if you were as bright as you claim to be in battle, you’d recognize an ally coming to help.” Marai called out when he was surrounded by men who closed ranks and trained spears and bow on him.

  “I wouldn’t try that,” Marai swatted out at the closest man and then parted two more men who stood nearer the prince. The three scrambled to right themselves, rubbing tender jaws and wrenched arms, then found weapons so they could try again.

  Maatkare froze, every muscle and fiber taut, then turned.

  “Would you leave me to what I need to do?” he snapped then barked out an order to the men: “Leave him be. Don’t waste yourself.”

  “I came because she’s more my concern than you want to admit, Highness,” Marai took a step closer. “I thought we’d straightened that out. I’m not asking for or wanting you to be my friend.”

  “Meaning?” the prince paused and turned, disgusted. “This is not your concern. This is about a woman being disagreeable. She knows that. My men know that. She knows she either comes along with me or I will be done with her.”

  Marai raised one brow and stared, incredulous as he sent a thought. You haven’t been paying attention or don’t care, obviously. He wondered what the general planned to do when he did catch up with Deka. He didn’t like the thought of her being beaten for the insult of running away.

  “You do understand that if she wants to stay here with her dreams of the past, you have nothing to say or do about it,” Marai stared down at the prince. The men with him flinched, weapons ready to protect. “She has her own power and she always did. She will decide her own course,” he added. “It’s not up to a man to control a woman. Try
, and that’s where the trouble will always start.”

  No woman in the universe is worth this; not even a goddess! She’ll just owe me plenty the prince inwardly grumbled.

  Marai made no additional comment, mental or otherwise, and stayed back from the prince. He quietly observed the prince’s tracking skills throughout the rest of the day as he led his troops deeper into the overgrown wilderness. The only break in progress was when they passed clean inland water. He allowed them to drink. When the sun went down and the torches came out, he showed no sign of stopping. Marai knew the prince was coming to rue the day the lion had wounded him. The sojourner, after considering it, felt the lion had been enchanted and wondered if the Akaru sent it in revenge over the deaths of the youths, or if something greater was at play. The wayward neter Deka referred to as Ta-Te had been lurking around all of them ever since he had encountered the thieves in the wilderness and likely before. That was the other part of the mission the Children of Stone had given him. Find and contain a god gone rogue and yet reluctant to fully leave the world of men.

  “I sense her,” Maatkare suddenly whispered. “She’s just a bit deeper in these woodlands. We’re headed right for her. They’ve all taken shapes to make running in the grass easier, but she’s not thinking like her animal. No big cat…” he twisted a glaring glance over his left shoulder at Marai, snarled lightly, and stopped talking.

  “I think she’s decided she wants to be found now, Highness, or we both know she would use the good cover she was using earlier.”

  “What?” Maatkare countered. “Lure us to her and have her companions pounce on us? I don’t think so. Look, she’s leaving clues and marks as if she was wounded or mad or both.” He beckoned the men to wave their torches at an area he had reached.

  Marai saw broken twigs, trampled undergrowth, and a bit of fabric caught in a bramble and remarked:

  “Maybe all the running around will give her a chance to come to her senses,” Marai strode up beside the prince and inspected the fabric. It was part of her black skirting. As his fingers handled it, and a wave of sorrow escaped him – he heard her voice in his thoughts.