Heart of the Lotus

by Mary R Woldering

  “The bees are after their honey, see?” she lifted the dish and brought it closer. “Let me get the little one here, its feet are trapped.” She lifted the bee to one finger and studied it while it’s ‘trunk’ tasted at the good stickiness. When it freed itself and flew away, she extended the plate. “That’s it, fly away, little one,” then looked in Hordjedtef’s eyes. “Try these now, before there are more bees.”

  “I’ll taste your treat,” he grinned. “But first, do just a little dance for an old man. My wives are far away and do not dance so often,” he chortled, teasing her.

  I know what “dance” means to you. Hope you aren’t serious. But, he’s Maatkare’s grandfather. If there’s a same nature passed in the seed, she shuddered, remembering his bold approach when she had danced before. Is this a demon telling him a way to expose me?

  Don’t be afraid. You are such a precious thing, the king’s voice filled her again. We will dance for him together; you and me. I will guide you through our own women’s dance to lure his attention.

  Naibe set down the plate long enough to unwind her scarf. Holding it aloft so that her full body and form displayed, she twirled across the plaza until...

  Music, she paused, music like that night.

  From nowhere she heard the same music that the harps and drums had played the night she danced for her dead Marai in front of King Menkaure. She had meant it as a curse on those who had killed him that night, but it had begun something else entirely.

  You danced your lover from the tomb, the king whispered, suddenly part of her thoughts again. If it were permitted, I would want you to dance me back into my life for just an hour so I could answer this thing that called itself my Wise Uncle. Through your acts, sweet lady…

  “No… Na…” Wse had grown restless and struggled.

  “Damn,” Hordjedtef whirled to look.

  Naibe knew Wse had almost spoken her name. He sensed her presence as he lay trapped in stupor. At that moment Hordjedtef knew something was amiss, too.

  I must make this work, she thought and began to move more seductively, filling herself with only music, her illusion of being a widowed serving girl, and the dance. Someone danced behind her.

  King, she almost giggled at the way his ethereal hands were at her waist, his illusion sighing into her. He dances well, she felt his essence flow into her, creating the steps the prophetesses danced. Natural I suppose, she thought, almost lulled into a dreamlike state away from her duty. All who might be king must be able to do all the dance moves in praise of any god or goddess. Shepseskaf danced well, too. Wish you had been well enough to dance with me and I still knowing what I do now, she nodded, then beckoned the priest to get up; to join the dance. She took his hands and slowly tugged him toward her, moving no faster than he could manage.

  Only the thought of Wse, lying in the throes of whatever the elder had forced him to drink, kept her from finding the old man entertaining.

  Hordjedtef continued matching her steps, his mouth open in awe, then commented:

  “Ah, I see you’ve spoken an untruth, dear.” His expression grew bitter, reflecting the thought he’d been deceived. He let go of her hands and tottered, breathless, toward the pool. “It seems you do know the sacred dances. Who are you? What is your name?”

  Tell him your name is Teaka, a voice whispered. Naibe hesitated, wondering at the sound of the young girl’s voice in her thoughts. Teaka? Is it a spirit of a girl? There was no answer.

  “Teaka,” she repeated, feeling liberated even though she was still concerned over whatever she was summoning. “It’s alright, Lord…” she gently swayed her hips by the water. “Come sit by me now. I’m sorry if I tired you, Your Highness, I’ll help you.” She helped Hordjedtef sit, then sat beside him with the plate of dates and a jar of beer to refresh him. “Here…” she handed forward the date candy, gently draping her arm around his back.

  So easy now, she thought. I am the goddess, as he said. She thought of Marai and raised her eyes, noticing the Great One didn’t flinch or object to being touched by her. He took a date from the plate and bit it. She ate one too.

  He savored the taste. Then, as she watched, his face broke into bizarre, wrinkled bliss. “These are good! They taste just like the candy the young sesh brought Wse and me last floodtide…” he chewed, then took another, then stared at her. “You,” his eyes narrowed and his face hardened.

  Sees me, she quickly turned her head away.

  “What sorcerous heka…” he started, and grasped her arm with the leather nau strap, starting to mouth an incantation of dispelling.

  Naibe felt the dreadful energy in the dark stone at the crosspiece of the straps tingling and making her faint in the form of a rush of bliss. That gave way to a sudden push of strength; a cool and dispassionate rage as all the elder’s manipulation of kings and commoners, even those closest to him like Wse who lay helpless on the bed not far away, flashed through her thoughts.

  Stop him. I must somehow stop him… her heart beat faster. Have I upset you? Whatever do you think you see, that you would so cruelly accuse me, Great Highness? she felt her voice separating from the thoughts. Then, she repeated aloud: “You’re upset. What has upset you? Do you not like this sweet?” she extended her hand with another date in her fingertips, but she noticed her arm around his back had become as solid as a stone. She held him so fast that he noticed. He tried to struggle and realized he was trapped.

  “Wh… get away, you demon!” his hand went up in a protective gesture, and then he suddenly clapped his hand over her belly.

  At first, she felt nothing coming from the leather piece as the old man struggled in her grip.

  “You’re not real…” he hissed. “Release me ka’t, or I will mark your child should it even thrive enough to draw a breath!” The Great One’s eyes went back in his head and lips began to mouth a spell.

  “What do you mean, Your Great Highness?” Her Ashera voice rang through his thoughts and echoed aloud. “I have offered you the sweetness you have always craved, now eat!” she stuck a large date in his gaping mouth.

  Naibe felt a jolt of pain across her belly as she sensed an inhuman shriek of torment.

  Baby! No! She gasped, but knew she couldn’t grab herself, even in shock, or her grip on Hordjedtef would vanish. Then, she felt her form melt into her true shape. The priest knew her, but her form didn’t stop changing.

  “Mmm…” he moaned, trying to spit out the candy, but gasped and sucked it in further as Naibe felt her features continue to twist and her voice deepen to something unmistakable: the face and form of Menkaure.

  “When you go, today, into your Amenti, and you bring your deeds to Ma-at and Djehuti, good uncle, please notice that though you have convinced yourself your bedevilments and effort were to ‘right the djed’ and to guard the truth, what was given in truth and honesty by others has never changed. You know it was always meant for all, that fallacy of the god-ordained is that, and why such efforts fail in time. Your efforts are naught. You are beguiled by the wayward all and naught, that you would, in your last moments, reach out to curse a child.”

  Naibe felt the presence of the king dissipate, but noticed the old man’s face turning to chalk, his hands clawing at his throat, eyes begging. A calm blue-lipped resolve spread over his countenance.

  “Is something the matter, Great One?” she whispered, sarcasm edging her voice. “Are you now frightened of what will happen to you?”

  Wretched beast of a Ka’t!! his thoughts shrieked. No! Help me! No!! Not like this!!

  “Oh, I wish I could help you, Your Highness, but I believe you just reminded me, I am not real…” Naibe stared hard into the panicking, darting eyes.

  The old man paused, suddenly stricken with confusion born of suffocation. When she released her grip on him, he fell into the pool. In a thrash or two, he sank, a very small amount of bubbles rising. Soon, the water over him grew still.

  Chapter 27: In a Dream You Saved Me

  For a
long time, Naibe sat, stroking her belly tenderly. Asar… little Asar, be well. Move and show me you were not harmed, she smiled as a slight wriggle moved inside her, repositioning.

  Mother, the thought came back, he is gone forevermore, and I am here. Do not worry.

  She reflected on the sound of the voice in her heart, lulled by its presence, but haunted. What if the curse worked though? What if he is somehow harmed? What if I have harmed myself in doing this? She scooted further away from the barely disturbed growth of sesen that had moved to fill in the blank space formed when Hordjedtef’s struggle had ended in the water. Placing her feet in the day-warmed water, far from the place where old man had gone under, she hummed a wordless tune to the child in the form of a lullaby. She looked to see the reflection of her face and saw her own. The mysterious ‘Teaka’ had faded. She had become Naibe again.

  Mother, the child spoke in her thoughts. Know you are cherished. I am better than before. Together we are strong. There is so much more for us to do.

  “Wseriri…” she gasped. In the struggle with Hordjedtef, his sinking into the pool, and her concern for the well-being of Marai’s child, she had become distracted. She looked in the shade of the awning where he lay on the bed, undisturbed, then glanced up to roof for signs of the servants. The servants. They’ll find me and have me seized, she startled, eyes scanning quickly. He was shouting at me before he choked and fell in the water. Did they not see him struggle with me? What about his dogs? She wondered why they had not sensed trouble and come to see what had befallen their master. It’s so quiet, like some force has gathered them and placed them elsewhere. Your Majesty? she asked the air. You didn’t… but the ghost of the king made no response. Then, thinking that her own child might have sent forth magic she queried Asar?

  A sensation of dread formed in front of her between the place beneath the surface where the elder priest lay and the spot where she sat with her feet in the water. Something hovered. It knew her.

  “No. Don’t. Go Away. You can’t have him. You tried to take him before but Marai stopped you. I won’t let you either,” she gripped her belly and rocked back and forth.

  Poor creature…

  Though you are now as a young god

  You have not the courage to defeat me

  Should I wish to take what I ordain as mine.

  In an instant I could have you be the bloated pig you were.

  But you intrigue me.

  No, don’t… but the sonorous voice became laughter that quickly faded and grew distant. Then, the air felt clean and fresh as if something had suddenly cleared away. She gulped and sat in worried silence until her thoughts cleared.

  Have the servants gone? She wondered again, knowing they should have seen everything from the roof. If they have, and they alert any Peacekeepers, Wseriri will defend me. She glanced at the daybed where the Inspector lay. Wserkaf looked still, as if he was too deep in an uncontrolled trance to even help himself. I have to wake him now. Then, she remembered she was lying on her mat in Qustul. The thought of being in two places at once dizzied her. She knew if she was thinking about that, she would soon lose the ability and suddenly wake in Ta-Seti. I don’t have long.

  “Wseriri,” she spoke aloud, staring at her belly. “Come to the water. I am here for you now.”

  Nothing.

  Naibe felt suddenly weak and drained as if the mere mention of his name had caused him to draw her energy. Or maybe I’m not supposed to save him; maybe it is too late.

  “Please, Wseriri,” she called louder. “I felt you call me and I’ve come. I’m here my ever sweet one,” her voice divided slightly, feathering into two voices.

  From the couch came a faint moan; a sign of an internal struggle.

  She pulled her feet from the water, stood, and moved closer to him, but stayed a few steps away. I must make him get up. Then, she addressed his still form again:

  “Wse. You were so good to me. You understood and shared my hurt,” she paused, waiting for the response that didn’t come. Naibe took another step closer: “You gave me love of the gods to soothe my aching, yet never once used me for mere pleasure alone. I always knew that, and so I gave all back to you. Please. Come to the water, my ever wisest one.” She raised her open palms, trying to surround him with just the dream of her caress the first time they were together when he swore he wanted to ‘be a priest at your altar’. She wanted to draw him up into her arms; to carry him and nurture him until he spoke if she had to do that.

  Wse, she entered his thoughts. You must wake soon and fight this, or I will lose you forever. Naibe saw him struggle again, but he was far too weak to stand. She ran to him, touching him, making him sit. As you had done for my Marai and brought him from the tomb, so I help you. Her lips grazed his unfocused eyes, then found his mouth.

  Slowly, he sat, head in his hand as if he still slept, then let her urge him to his stumbling feet. Worried he might also fall into the pool, she steered him to the side where she had contemplated her deeds and eased him down. He relaxed entirely and drifted in her lap.

  Floating, so serene. It has never been so magnificent. I am majestic, untouched. I am the god in the way I feel. Wserkaf felt the warmth and became part of all the peace surrounding him as he listened to his teacher’s words. The sound of his speaking hollowed like distant whispers as he drifted further into the bliss. With his eyes gently closed, he saw the pulsing, veined red of the inside of his eyelids. Gradually, that sensation gave way to a nearly cloudless sky above him. His spirit body lifted in the same way as it did on these investigative journeys he took with and later in place of his teacher.

  Different, he thought, this is not the same as the other times. On this journey, the lifting of spirit took him closer to the sun so that he was dancing in front of it, but not burned. It’s better this way, he thought. It’s been too easy to get wrapped up in the drama surrounding the throne, the ascension of the new king, and my own coming duties. Hordjedtef is right. It’s good to get away; to refocus and leave all of it behind… to realign with the purpose of my existence.

  He drifted, as if he walked forth surrounded by an orb of light that rode through the sun as if it was a boat. Is it the solar boat? Is this Amenti? Have I at last journeyed here? This means something. Joy filled him. He knew it was a vision, but it was also a reality yet to be. There would be an orb and a journey, but he was unable to focus on that. A song that had no sound or melody was just inside his heart, about to burst forth, and it drowned out much of his sentience.

  He had felt this way before. Many times, when he was in a deep trance, he would know this sensation of bliss. This time was different; he was less in control now as Hordjedtef guided him. He had fallen exquisitely deep, perhaps too deep, because of the Sweet Horizon. He had never needed it before, so it still puzzled him why the elder gave it to him. His skills were legendary; that he could lapse into a trance at a moment’s notice. Now, with the addition of the concoction, it might be too much. At this point he was only amused at the sensations.

  An image other than the orb filled him. At first, his body felt heavy and he wanted to sink into the earth. When that sensation no longer weighed him down, he transformed into a bird soaring and feeling the glory of the sun’s warmth on his head and wings for hours. Sometimes, he saw familiar places. At other times, the places were new and foreign. He was a falcon; I am Ho-Ra of the far-seeing and truthful eye, the dispassionate and burning eye of the sun. I am God and now I survey all that I have created and all that lured me into becoming a man. Tiny people moved around in their lives below his flight. They look like little black and red ants as they scurry about in their anthills. Are they anthills or Eternal Houses? Look how hard they work! he cried to himself and felt tears coursing over his deadened cheeks. All of this is for the glory of the god; for all the gods above and below and for the One who is hidden.

  Yes. Yes, my Lord, he whispered. He did not know if he was speaking or sending thoughts. I understand how important it is, Lord. Y
ou can trust… He didn’t know who was present to hear him. Dede? All the gods? Must be Dede. He is always with me on deep sessions, guiding me. Trust, he felt his face twitch in a frown. Trust. He does not. I do not, but I must. Trust who? Where? Wserkaf couldn’t place the old man anymore. Has he gone somewhere? The plaza seems too quiet. He felt alone, but still enveloped by the most serene peace. Even the servant who had laid him out earlier had even vanished. Am I even here or am I lost in a dream? Maybe I will wake and Khentie will be smiling down at me in my bed. Maybe I am trapped in that gods-forsaken stone room apart from her. He felt the elder whispering commands to his thoughts again and again about the nature of secrecy and divine trust regarding the distribution of knowledge. Part of him was laughing, but another part wept and fought.

  Do you trust me, Lord? Do you worry I am not strong enough? Yes. Yesss. I see, Wserkaf lost the sound of Hordjedtef’s voice in the quiet warmth of the day bed under the shelter of the awning. He wanted to fly up again. Up… up… scream like the falcon and dive into the earth and into the dark caverns of nothingness. Twisted images of legend filled his thoughts. The jaws of Sobek snapped. The odor of death and decay was leeching out into the mustiness that couldn’t be masked by enough spice and essence. The small room where he had been trapped formed around him again and he was seeing the second wdjat for the first time. No. Must not see it. Must not think it. Secret, Wserkaf suffered.

  He felt the hand of the old man and a cup touching his lips.

  Cool liquid inside. Water from the spring flowing from the Lake of Memory and it gives me life. I drink and I shall have eternal peace among the gods.

  “Khentie…” he felt his lips move but he wasn’t sure if a sound came out.

  “Gently, gently my Dear Wse. She’s not here. She’s safe. The Wdjat? Yours? Young Maatkare will bring it back to us. Just relax and accept. So much wickedness was done to you, but you are now above it. I am cleansing you of the influences of falsehood. Take another small sip.”