Heart of the Lotus

by Mary R Woldering

  Ariennu pouted. Yeah, I knew she was doing it today too, but I didn’t want to think about anything but you, sweetness. Damn.

  “Marai must know about this,” Djerah slid around to the other side of Naibe’s prone form. “If it’s serious, he’d know, wouldn’t he? Through the stones?”

  “I don’t know. These Children and these stones are getting to be like people the more they stay part of us. They’re like some faithless bastards, though. Sometimes we hear and feel everything each other is thinking and other times it’s just bits or nothing. I don’t know if there’s something else going on or not. I just know if she’s hurt either herself or this baby that Marai won’t come back from it this time. That’s why we have to make her get up,” Ariennu lifted Naibe slightly and scooted under her head to elevate it.

  “Look,” Djerah motioned, “her lips are moving like she’s talking again.”

  Ari put her head near Naibe’s lips and strained to pick up her thoughts but neither of them sensed or heard her.

  “Come on, Baby,” Ari shook her arm then looked at Djerah, unable to mask her worry. “Feel her energy, Djee. Put your hand up here over her stone. It’s so faint now. If we can’t get her to wake up both she and the little one will drift forever.”

  Ariennu envisioned Marai returning to Qustul and facing the loss of another wife and child. This won’t happen. I won’t let it. I owe it to you Marai, her face hardened.

  “Drift. Sh…she can’t.” he stammered and Ari felt his thought.

  This is me. If I fought her off one more time we might have…

  “Djerah,” she addressed him, frost in her voice, “don’t you ever let that thought take form again. This isn’t about you or me or what we just did. That was a good time, a very good one. What’s going on with her; that’s all her. Besides, she was already doing whatever she does when we came in… before we got started.”

  Djerah shook his head, then shrugged and was about to speak the thought: I didn’t mean I didn’t like it. A moment later he looked up, then motioned Ari to follow his line of vision.

  By the entryway, Ari noticed a figure in a dark blue cloak with the hood drawn up. It was suddenly there and hadn’t been.

  Who? Ariennu silently asked. A cloak? Here? It’s too hot out. Uh… What? Ari knew she hadn’t looked away. If anything, she had blinked. Now the figure was closer, as if it had vanished and re-appeared. She stared, open-mouthed, as the figure moved again, this time next to her. Then, the empty cloak fell over Naibe. Something made a “plick” noise on the polished stone floor. Djerah reached instinctively and held something up.

  “Look, Ariennu, a stone.” He handed it to her. It was blue lapis.

  “Looks like hers…” Ariennu’s voice was numb. “Warm and kind of damp…” she quickly glanced at Naibe’s brow again to check, then breathed easier. “Thought for a moment…”

  Naibe gasped faintly and made a tiny moaning noise.

  “Oooh. Djerah, there…” Ari lifted Naibe hard. “Wake up, girl! Please, please wake up…” she whispered into the young woman’s ear.

  Another weak sounding whimper escaped.

  Djerah helped Ari hold Naibe upright, but her head lolled. She wasn’t fully awake and her hands were cold.

  Ariennu pressed one of Naibe’s hands to her own cheek to warm it.

  “That’s it. Wake up, pretty Brown Eyes,” Ari encouraged her, rubbing the chill from her hands.

  Djerah bent forward to kiss her stone and spoke to her gently.

  “Now come back. Remember what we talked about when we walked that night? About little Asar? You be a good little mother,” he whispered. “Come back for the little one, Naibe.”

  She shifted on her mat and took a deeper breath.

  “There,” he smiled, “a little more.” He kissed her forehead, then planted his own brow next to hers so that the stones touched.

  Her eyelids fluttered at the sensation, as if one stone had spoken to the other.

  Djerah beckoned Ariennu to breathe more light into her, and then reveled in the whooshing feeling of delight at her touch, remembering she had done this to further arouse him moments ago when they were together.

  Naibe opened her dizzy looking eyes and stared, disbelieving, as if she didn’t quite know where she was.

  “Asar,” she whispered and clapped her hand on her belly over Djerah’s hand, then collapsed relieved into his arms. “Oh…”

  Ariennu sat on her heels, anxiety blossoming into anger. “Girl, I should slap you silly!” She barked, but as if all anger was defeated by sympathy, she quickly embraced the young woman tightly with: “Aww. Come here.”

  “Wh…?” Naibe tried. “Wse?” then “How?” she halted and trembled then shuddered. “Oh goddess, oh…” she gripped Ariennu hard and squeezed Djerah’s hand for extra support.

  “You promised Marai you would not do anything with the Children until your child is born and now we find you’ve been working with your stone all along? Look how weak this left you. Do you honestly have a death wish? Are you so miserable to bring him a child that you risk killing it and yourself? How could you be so stupid! You know he would die if something happened to you! You, of all of us, have seen his heart’s sorrow in this!” she scolded.

  Naibe exploded into tears, shaking even more.

  Djerah frowned at Ari’s outburst, instantly consoling her. Just as quickly, Ari filled with regret.

  “I’m sorry, babe,” Ari hugged the young woman again and then kissed her lips. “I was just so scared that after all we’ve been through that you would do this to yourself.”

  What’s the matter with me? I shouldn’t be this upset. I was just… Ari thought of the segment of time in the alcove with Djerah, her illusion, how good everything felt despite his worry that ultimately Marai wouldn’t be the happiest with the idea of her inconstancy. Then, the sudden crash that interrupted the afterglow and another round with the former stonecutter. Emotions. The Children can’t change hearts, but they can bring them to the surface, like they did with Deka. She went mad, but they did the opposite for the prince. Maybe they caused him to hold back from annihilating Buhen instead of just burning it. She hugged Naibe again.

  “MaMa,” Naibe whispered. “Sorry I interrupted. You know Marai loves every bit of you, even the part that makes you wander. Don’t be upset. I’ll be fine” her hand freed itself and lovingly stroked the deep blue-purple cloak that had fallen. Ari’s eyes followed. It was spread out over the young woman’s legs.

  “That cloak. Where have I seen that thing and then that shadow that brought it in just before…” She knew it was a shrouding travel cloak. Priests used these when they “went about” on official royal business. Some people in Ineb Hedj felt these cloaks had magical powers and the ability to make the wearer vanish or travel great distances in an instant. Perhaps…

  “That’s Prince Wserkaf’s travel cloak, isn’t it?” she asked. “Right before you woke we saw a shadow come in wearing it, like it was a copy of you. How did you…”

  “I don’t know,” the young woman wearily shook her head, despite Djerah’s tender attempts to soothe her. She trembled. “I’m sorry, Ari, I just had to go. He needed me.”

  “Go?” Ariennu countered. “What do you mean ‘go’? You’ve been lying there as if you were dead the better part of the afternoon,” she stared at the cloak again. “Unless it really was this cloak and it allowed you to make a shadow of yourself and send it back and forth to the Hedj.”

  “I had to,” she emphasized again while Djerah rocked her gently.

  “Marai needs you to live and so does your child. Wserkaf doesn’t need anything from you,” Ariennu hissed. “I know you had something with him when Marai was gone, but that was over even before we knew the truth. He ended it because it wasn’t going to work for you to be a secondary wife or did you forget? He has more people in his life that can help him than all of us put together. He’s royal consort to the Daughter of God.”

  Djerah’s eyes wid
ened, “the inspector is what?”

  Ari was about to explain but Naibe stopped her.

  “No, Ari.” Naibe closed her eyes, tired beyond words. “You don’t understand. In the same way you are free to do as you wish, Marai does not bind my spirit or trap it like a bird. I know what I promised Marai, and I know that my bond with Wseriri still exists though I am once again with Marai and bear his child. I knew the child was there when I tried to escape from Prince Maatkare and swim to Khmenu. It was not to be with Wse, it was to have him get me back to the king and to stop Hordjedtef.” She paused, as if talking that much had drained the rest of her energy. “Today was different,” she began again. “I’m not imagining it. Not today. He… he was killing him. His bright soul begged me to come and help him. He was getting lost in his spirit and wandering,” she sighed.

  “He?” Ariennu frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “That – that man. The Great One. Count Hordjedtef. He was taking him away, taking power over his wits like he did with KhaKhet all over again.” Naibe wiped her eyes, but Ari noticed the strange translucence in her arms and tensed, almost unable to hear the rest of the explanation.

  “He was calling to me and to Marai, too; to all of us. I had to, no matter what.”

  “Aww…” Djerah consoled, pressing her close.

  Ariennu exhaled in a kind of defeat as she understood Naibe might not have been as impulsive as she had thought.

  “Damn girl,” she whispered kissing her gently again. “You’re just such a loving soul, you’d have to try, wouldn’t you?” Ari turned to Djerah and fully passed Naibe to him, then got up from the pallet where the young woman had been lying. She went to a cool, dark area of the room, where some sour asses’ milk had been set by to ferment. Some cups and stirrers were there.

  Naibe liked this, particularly at night, and Xania had told Ari it was especially good to soothe a new mother who woke at night and couldn’t sleep.

  Ari poured out some of the clear whey into a cup and pressed some honey through it with a wooden ladle to take the edge off the sourness.

  “I just wanted to go to him in a dream, that’s all. I wanted to help him, but it ended up being more than a dream, didn’t it?” Naibe shook her head and sipped the sweetened whey.

  Suddenly, as if relaxing with the milk had enabled her to think of more things, she reeled and began to tremble again.

  “He’s dead now. He can’t hurt anybody ever again.” Her voice drifted, filled with an odd dispassion.

  Ariennu stared, haunted, remembering the way she had lapsed into a shocked dispassion when she learned Marai had “died” and they were to go to various households. She had been sitting by the pool in Hordjedtef’s house, staring at the water as if she wanted to fall in and drown herself. She saw the image of the elder sinking beneath the water of the same pool through Naibe’s memory, while Naibe sat nearby and did not try to save him. Drown. He drowned. What irony.

  “I killed him,” she looked up with an almost childlike wonder. “KhaKhet came and told me what we had thought about how he died was true. He asked for me to avenge him and to stop him from hurting Wseriri and so I killed him because of all these things.”

  “You – killed.” Ari’s stare sharpened, then focused on the second thing the young woman said. “KhaKhet? Make sense, baby. King Menkaure is dead. Wserkaf told us that not long after it happened.” Then, she remembered that when Naibe had been having greater difficulties with Maatkare, Wserkaf had come in spirit, sad as he was, to tell them of the death and how he would try to keep them safe. Maybe Naibe thinks that was what she was doing. Going in spirit, but something different happened; something unplanned.

  Naibe was leaning heavily in Djerah’s arms as if she was about to collapse in another stupor.

  “I went to him to just look,” she began. “I took another shape when I realized it was really me going and not just a dream. I was a girl, darker than I am; like a Kemet servant so he would not know me. The more I saw how Wseriri suffered, the more I knew I had to do something to make it stop,” her faint whisper showed them how exhausted she was.

  “And then, Ari, the king came and we…” her golden eyes rolled and she faded, her skin going translucent and even partly transparent as if she couldn’t stay in the present world a moment longer.

  “Baby?” Ariennu saw the effect and grabbed her, starting to shake her awake. “Djee, look at her. She’s disappearing…” She leaned in, clutching Naibe’s jaw and shaking her head back and forth to disrupt the process. “No. No, no… Don’t go, baby, please. Djerah, help me with her.”

  Djerah bent to her brow the way he had done earlier and lifted her.

  “She’s just tired, Ariennu. The young man edged to her to comfort her. “What’s wrong? I’ve never seen you like this. It wasn’t what we…” he started.

  Ari froze, then whispered, resigned and understanding. “The Children. Them. Damn. The first time I was with Marai, I cried… hard. I went to absolute pieces. Every time I’m with him all the hard parts melt and I do this. And now it happened with you, baby Marai, ‘cause that’s just what you are. I can’t… damn this.”

  Djerah patted her back too. She knew he was still divided about enjoying her. It was up to her to take him away from those thoughts without making him feel bad about it.

  “I started that… in the alcove, but that can’t have anything to do with this. It was nice, but now this is different. I’m scared, Djerah…” she whispered. “I know I’m strong enough to help her and now you are too. I just can’t shake the thought that we might eventually lose her,” Ariennu bowed her head and thought of many things. So, old Hordjedtef is dead. Marai will be back soon. He’ll know what Naibe did and what the cost is. Goddess knows what is going on in Ineb Hedj. It’s just all coming to a point and the worst is, I don’t know where it goes from here.

  Chapter 29: Where we Stand

  Satisfied now? the unmistakable glare of hatred flashed in Maatkare’s eyes after Deka climbed down from Marai’s back. At first, Marai didn’t know who the prince intended the thought for or if he had simply sent it into the ether in disgust.

  He had tersely gestured to the woman with one hand showing her that she should walk at his side and perhaps a step back until he felt better about allowing her to walk with him at all. Marai knew Maatkare’s intent was to shame and humiliate her, but he didn’t want to seem too forbidding. It was easy for anyone to see that the young general had feelings for her and wasn’t, no matter how upset he was over this situation, ready to have her take flight back to Marai for comfort.

  You don’t have to stay with him if it bothers you. You know that.

  Both men received the same answer… a confused aching.

  Maatkare stopped in his tracks and seized her hand. He tugged her toward himself, his expression going blank.

  “Well? You decided once that you would be with me. Has this changed? Have you lost the courage? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

  Marai frowned, almost ready to step in.

  “No, Man-Sun,” her voice was an emotion-filled choke. “I still need to be with you, Maatkare Raemkai, but I will no longer shut you or any I’ve met through you or Brown Eyes and Wise MaMa out. Allow me walking space; thinking space.”

  The sojourner saw a faint smirk make an attempt at the corner of the prince’s mouth. He hustled the woman into his arm and turned his back on Marai as they walked back through the dense woodland toward the smoke that rose from the smoldering ruins of Buhen. The guards and lion men followed Maatkare and Deka at a distance over the half-day walk back to the shore. None of the three dared speak a word, as if speaking would shatter their contemplation.

  Marai sent a thought to Djerah when he sensed the young man flying his boat around again. Then, he spent his time pondering how his first days with his little Asar would be.

  As they emerged on the shoreline across from the smoldering ruins, the sight of the blackened village brought Marai back to the present
moments in time. He caught up to within earshot of the prince and sent a thought, even though he knew it wasn’t welcome.

  You know your expedition is over and you’ll need to go back to Ineb Hedj for the funeral and the ascension.

  “If you have something to say, Akkad, speak aloud and watch your tone with me. I have enough in my silence to concern me without your invading my thoughts and adding to it,” the prince snapped without turning to face him.

  “The point is, there are now witnesses to your acts – and wagging tongues,” Marai complied.

  “Price of putting down a rebellion, in my opinion. The people here have long understood my manner. They knew those boys got what they provoked. Anyone fit to rule would have done this,” he continued walking.

  “You usually burn their homes every year and openly threaten governors with a long history of peace?”

  Maatkare froze; his muscles knotting as if he wanted to turn and swing but he tempered it into a growl. The men with him snapped about face and into a peculiar formation between the prince and the sojourner.

  “Really?” Marai snorted. “You want to do this here? Now? I warned you what would happen to your men if they tried me.”

  The prince pivoted and stamped his foot. His eyes blazed golden. Then, as if a private inner voice, perhaps Deka’s, cautioned him, he calmed just as suddenly.

  Marai did not continue the conversation. He stayed in his spot in view of the path down to the river, saying only one thing more:

  “Remember, Your Highness, Deka has made you one of us. I won’t fight you at this point, but if she should ever cry out to me about you…” he warned then grew silent.

  He watched Maatkare continue with Deka and his men to his boat. In the late afternoon he saw it was being prepped for the long return home ahead of his troops.

  Maatkare will spin his tale of rebellion somehow. Hordjedtef will back him up on it. Nothing will truly change unless… He shrugged, blocking his thoughts. Enough. It’s not my problem. Getting us together is. Getting us to live as a family or a tribe will be harder. She wants to be with him, but it’s not over. They’ll come back when they are ready. This I know. Settling into one of the empty rooms of the Buhen central building that had not burned, Marai rested and thought.