As Hathor stood there, her horns appeared and glowed bright, and there was a faint, high-pitched ringing in the air, like when fine metal is polished with a soft leather cloth. Hathor soaked up their adoration, feeling its elixir run through her body. This feeling was only matched by Horus’ embrace or Ra’s radiance from his Eye. She decided she had enough, any more and she would become giddy, dizzy, inebriated from their love.
Hathor held up her hands and everyone quieted. “I extend my blessings upon this village.” Everyone cheered, jumped, and hugged and they began to sing into the sky and dance together. As she watched the people of the village frolic, she noticed they were almost all women and children. Of course, the men would be working the crops, wouldn’t they?
An old woman stood to the side, not dancing but staring at Hathor. Hunched with age, she motioned to Hathor, beckoning to her, then moved toward a hut, expecting Hathor to follow. Hathor could tell she was the village priestess by her elaborate dress, a white linen shift dragging the ground, a colorful twisted fabric belt and headband of leather with metal studs. Hathor entered the old woman’s hut and saw her sitting cross-legged on a floor covered with a straw mat.
The old woman lifted her arms into the air, and bending at the waist said, “Praise to you Hathor for your benevolence, even when our village is undeserved.”
“You are wrong, Sacred One. All the people receive my love and suckle upon my nourishment.”
“While we are undeserved, we accept your benevolence. Even those who seek… to move beyond your kindness.”
Hathor paused and considered her words, “Please, explain your meaning.”
The old woman’s voice sounded hollow as if reciting an old prayer repeated many times. “Many men of this village long for the days of old when they would hunt for our livelihood, instead of tilling the fields or pulling the nets. They want to feel the thrill of the conquest again, instead of the tedious effort to bring food to their families.”
The priestess looked up at Hathor, a fierceness in her eyes, “There are some that believe the power of the gods will wane and men must claim that power.” She paused, looking back at the floor, and said in a whisper, “Even if forced under a man’s rule.”
Hathor had merged with the wind, invisible but potent, and she climbed the currents, spreading out over the fields. Her hands moved the breeze over the stalks of wheat to feel the kernels inside, she imbued them with her love, and they grew plumper, larger, and fuller.
She continued like this from one village to the next, absorbing the adoration of the people, birthing babies, healing the sick, and imbuing the fields and waters with nourishment for her people. She thought once again about what the priestess told her. In all the villages, while the number of people had grown, the number of men in the fields and villages had lessened. There were even fields that should be harvested, left to old men to work. As she pondered this, Hathor rested in the winds below the white clouds, surveying the lands below.
Hathor began to seek out the men of the villages and finally came upon a mass of men by the river. There was a battle underway so Hathor moved closer, drifting down on the breezes until she could clearly see men striking men with scythes, rakes, shears, tools of the fields, but also many held swords and spears that they used to plunge into others. The carnage repulsed her.
All at once she felt her vibrancy fade. The energy she gained from the villages was being pulled away. Almost like a heavy summer rain, it poured down from her into the field of men. And as it poured into the men, their fury for battle increased. Then, she began to fall.
Her body had returned, and she fell from the sky, heavy and powerless. As suddenly, she felt pulled upward, snatched from the air by a great falcon.
“Horus, my love, you came to me. They drained me. Their passion for hate pulled all the life-flow from me and for a moment…I was mortal.”
The falcon looked down at Hathor, clutched in his talons. “Yes, my love, I felt it happen and rushed to you. It was fortunate I reached you when I did, for I could not bear it if you perished.”
“Oh, Horus. I embrace you and give to you my enduring love, known in the old world as Heru-ur, son of Geb and Nut, earth and sky, the distant one, one who is above and over, who contains the sun and moon, Good Horus, Great Horus, the all seeing eye, Wedjat.”
Horus responded, “You are the sun and moon, my eyes into the world, mother-cow that suckles and nurtures the creatures of the fields and waters below. You continue your divine work to bring life to these lands and people, but some now seek to drain your sustenance for the privilege of destroying themselves and the world around them.
“Now, your father, Ra seeks your comfort. He grows weary and unsettled by the peoples you seek to nourish and who now drain you and us alike. They grow stronger and bolder, moving out beneath his benevolence, seeking dominance beyond the beasts and animals, and with that they drain the life-flow from all of us.
“Come, let us embrace and seek out the company of our family. Let us join the Ennead, the Family of Nine.”
With that, the two merged, the falcon growing larger but fading into transparency, then the sky shimmered, and they were gone.
The Ennead, or Pesedjet in the old language of the Gods, was outside the world, a place accessed only by the Gods, in a bubble of light surrounded by an endless dark, and here on a floor of translucent gold, they all stood. Horus now presented as a man, tall, strong, and handsome, standing next to Hathor, holding her hand, the horns above her head glowing brightly, as they walked to the center, next to Anubis and Ptah.
Around this bubble of a room stood dozens of gods, some greater, some lesser but they stood quietly in many forms. Anubis, sleek and dark, black-skinned, was standing like a man with the head of a golden wolf-dog, often confused for a jackal. Anubis turned to Horus and smiled until his pointed teeth showed, then Horus dipped his head down in acknowledgment. Next to Anubis was Ptah, the beautiful, the lord of truth, master of justice, lord eternal, the only god to form into existence by his own thought, the will of his heart. He stood as a man, but was stunted and deformed, his skin the green of seaweed. He leaned on a staff, the Was scepter, showing the signs of the Ankh and Djed, the god signs of Power, Life, and Stability. Ptah stared straight ahead, neither acknowledging nor dismissive of others, simply lost in his thoughts. Ptah was not a common sight at these gatherings, not being a member of the Ennead, but was called when one of the gods was to face judgement or something calamitous had occurred.
The last to appear was Ra. His visage shifted between various forms, his body that of a man, but his head changed from a man to a ram, a falcon, a beetle, a heron, a serpent, a bull, a lion, then settled on a man with a blazing disk above his head, as he walked to the center of the group, standing in a circle.
“We stand within Nu and the rest of the seven boundless entities of the Ogdoad from which I spring eternal. You all spring from my body and my will, except Ptah, who stands alone in judgement of all. Of course, Anubis represents his father Set, who relinquished his position in the Ennead, for crimes we will not discuss now.
“The one who is not here is Apophis, the opponent of Ma’at, of Truth. While he will not face me in the Nu, he stalks my very existence, lurking at the edge of night and day, looking to devour me whole like a snake eats a mouse. But a snake cannot swallow the world, so his frustration grows every time day turns to night and night to day.”
Ra’s voice grew louder, more forceful, “Now he has begun to harbor in the dreams of men in the night, whispering words that the gods can be usurped, overthrown, cast out. Men have begun to believe they have the tools to kill the gods.” The gods became restless and there were sounds coming from around the Nu, of thrashing winds, earthquakes, storms of the night. He turned to Ptah, resting a hand on his shoulder, as he continued softer, “I do not condemn you, my old friend. You show them the tools to better their existence, to improve their lives and the lives of their children. It is not your fault they now turn tho
se tools to an evil purpose.”
Ptah looked up at Ra, a deep sadness in his voice as he said, “I know of what you say. I have seen men take the plowshares I showed them to make, and now they pound them into swords. One village now claims the rights to another with the force of their arms, striking dead their neighbors for nothing more than pride, greed, lust.” He ends the last word, stretching out the ‘S’ like a strong wind whistling over the sands of the desert.
Ra continued, looking out at the array of gods surrounding him, his voice booming into the blackness, “While I am concerned about the men of this world turning their tools against each other, I am gravely concerned that their attention has moved away from us, away from the respect we have earned, and with the turning of their attention, we are lessened.”
Horus stepped forward and knelt before Ra as his form changed to the body of a lion with wings with the head of a hawk. “This is my fault, I have brought imbalance to Ma’at, your divine truth, with my constant battles with Set.” Horus’ voice grew angry. “My desire for vengeance with Set has clouded me to what it does to mankind. I have shown mankind a war among gods,” and then said softly, “so it is no wonder they now seek a new balance, by banishing the gods.”
Ra turned to Horus, his voice powerful. “No, Horus, your fight with Set is righteous. But I cannot put this task on you without leaving you open to another challenge by him.” Ra bent down to Horus and lifted him up by his arms to standing as he returned Horus to the form of a man, “I will need you to bring order to mankind but this is not yet your time.” The Nu was quiet as the sounds moved off into the emptiness beyond.
Hathor spoke up, her words started with uncertainty, “Mighty Father, these mortals seek more than sustenance. We have nourished them, given them a better life, and I have seen how they now fight each other.” She cast a glance at Horus, remembering how he saved her and her words now held an anger, a vehemence. “But they now seek, no they leach, the power of the gods without knowing what they would do with it. What they desire will destroy them, and us with them. It is time to cast them off. Let the ungrateful ephemerals die in the misery where we found them!”
Ra moved in front of Hathor, looking directly at her. The words came to her like an echo from far away, “I wish that were true my daughter. You more than anyone, even Ptah, have shown them such generosity, love, compassion. But for all of it, you are right, they seek more, and what they seek will destroy them. And us, if we let them.”
Anubis spoke, his voice deep like rumblings of the earth in the quiet of the night, felt more than heard, “Ra speaks the truth. Apophis has sought out my father, Set, and I still speak with my father. He has told me of Apophis, the God of Chaos, the Destroyer of Truth, what he plans. He no longer challenges you, my lord Ra, but seeks the dominion of the people of the land of light and day. He breathes into them a fire, a maelstrom for destruction, and in so doing, the destruction of what we all hold dear, the worship from mankind. The life-flow that comes from these mortals, in their fury, it pulls that energy back, away from us, but it flows to and sustains Apophis. His force for chaos grows with each day these mortals fight among themselves.”
Ra still stood before Hathor whose eyes remained on Ra although they had a pleading, wanting look. Ra slowly turned and nodded to Anubis, before he continued. His voice gaining in power, resonating off the floor, as his body began to float, a light cascading off him in waves, as he said, “And because of their hollow hearts, their lack of faith in the divine benevolence I have bestowed, I turn to you my daughter, Hathor,” and his focus returned to her as he shined his light on her, “Sky Goddess, Mistress of the Stars, I make you now Sekhmet,” the name said is like a crack of thunder, “the One Who is Powerful and Mighty, She Before Whom Evil Trembles, Mistress of Dread.” The disk above Ra’s head shined directly onto Hathor, now Sekhmet. “I make you my manifestation, the Eye of Ra. Go now to the lands of men, make them tremble before you and put down their swords, so that they may return to their families and villages and live on in peace.” And a globe of light moved from the disk above Ra’s head into the body of Hathor, now Sekhmet.
As Ra spoke the words, Hathor began to change. First, she fell to her hands and knees, then she began growing larger. Her white gown changed to bronze-colored fur, with dark stripes. Her limbs changed to powerful front and back legs, and a long striped tail sprung out. She now appeared as a lioness and began walking around Ra, on all fours, rubbing her body against his legs as she moved in a serpentine path at the center of the Nu. At the moment the globe of light moved into her body, she stood on her hind legs, raised her large lioness head, and roared, “I will bring peace to mankind, father.”
The two armies of men stood on either side of the valley, brandishing their weapons of bronze, wood, and leather, banging the metal swords against the metal rims of their shields, shouting their fury across the empty valley, as their blood flushed their faces and arms. Then the ground shook and between the two forces the land split open, a gash running across the valley center, directly between the armies. From this rent in the earth a head, then shoulders, then a whole body emerged, a lioness that stood like a man, the height of three men. The lioness was beautiful with bronze-colored fur with black stripes, black eyes and lips, and dark-colored, pointed ears that flickered at the sounds around her.
“I am Sekhmet, The Destroyer. Lay down your arms or meet your fate.” The words roared from her mouth, sending hot waves of air across the valley. Both armies paused, in awe of the goddess that appeared before them. Then they began shouting, petitioning the goddess to lay low their enemies, and the banging of their weapons became a steady rhythm against the chant, “Sekh-met, Sekh-met, Sekh-met.”
She lifted her arms to the sky, the claws of her paws extended, her head tilted up and she roared, “Why do they not heed me?” With her paws still in the air, a volley of arrows flew past her and several struck her body. She twisted and turned toward the pain, roaring again.
Her large arm swung toward the source of the arrows and a blast of air moved faster than the eye could blink, and the blast hit the first line of men knocking them off their feet into the men behind them. Then she heard the chant change behind her. She turned to face the other side, where she heard repeated shouts. “Kill them, kill them.”
As she faced the chanting voices, her eyes began to glow red. She crouched down on all four legs and leapt into the air, so high some thought she had flown away, until she fell in the midst of the army that had been chanting. Her mighty paws swung left and right, and bodies flew through the air. She grabbed one man, her paws sinking into his body and tore him in half. Then took another and bit off his head. For several minutes she tore through every standing man until there was nothing but blood and gore, limbs and dead bodies.
As she stood crouched, panting, blood dripped from her mouth and paws, and it pooled beneath her and into a rivulet that moved through the dirt like a red snake. Then she heard the cheers rise from the army across the valley. And again, her eyes flamed red, and she leapt high into the air, landing atop two soldiers, the claws of her feet going through their chests, past their spines. And she continued to turn the lush green valley to blood and gore.
Ra, Ptah, and Anubis stood within the Nu. Ra turned away from the other two, his hands clasped behind him, as he said, “Sekhmet has not stopped men from warring against each other. She has only succeeded in harvesting their souls for Ammit.”
Anubis replied in his deep, calm voice, “Yes, Sekhmet has brought me many souls to weigh, and at first Ammit, the Devourer of the Dead, feasted on most of them, their souls not worthy of my domain. But it has changed and now most of the dead souls that come to me, to be weighed against a feather for their purity of heart for truth and justice, pass into the realm.”
Anubis paused a moment, his wolf-dog head turning as he considered his words, then resumed, “But Sekhmet continues to reap more pure souls as she cleanses the realm above, contributing to the realm below. As grea
t as her heart was to love the race of man, she now pursues her love for blood and carnage.” His voice raised a notch higher, reflecting an unusual stress for him, “She is blood-lusted and nothing stops her.”
“Lord of Light, Giver of Life to Man.” This was spoken by Ptah, then he calmly waited for Ra’s attention.
Ra finally turned to him and said, “Speak old friend, tell me your thoughts and what may be done at this time.”
“Lord, your daughter has lost control. She does not stop the violence but only incites more. Your mankind now looks to the gods, not as a benefactor but in fear. And they fear you because she holds the Eye of Ra and not one of us can go against her while she holds that power.” Then he spoke slower, making each word clear, “Mankind is not able to resist her and soon there will be no more mankind.”
Ra nodded as he heard the words from Ptah. Then in a sudden movement his arm went up and he said crisply, “I call Horus.”
In a moment, Horus appeared as a falcon, flying into the Nu and resting on Ra’s outstretched arm. “Horus, you must go to the southern Nile and collect red ocher from the banks of the river. Mix this with large amounts of beer and set it in the path of Sekhmet. As you love her, you must do this. In her bloodlust, she will see the red ocher liquid and think it blood. Once she drinks it down and is stupored, bring her and the Eye to me, as I pass once again to the world beneath, on my daily trek. There, I will take back the Eye and see to our beloved Sekhmet.”
Horus flew away.
Ra, Anubis, and Horus stood in the dark depths of the underworld, the world beneath the world of light and day. None of them spoke as they looked down at Sekhmet who lay prone, asleep, her fur caked in dried blood around her muzzle and paws. She began to stir, her tail flickering first, then her head moved. She looked up at the three gods as she moved slowly to sit up, then rest on her haunches. “Father, I have not finished. They must be punished for…” Her body heaved, her head hunched forward several times, her mouth opened wide, and she coughed up something gray and wet, that clanged as it hit the floor and rolled a few feet. The gods turned their heads in unison to see a man’s head with the helmet on, slimy and dripping on the stone floor.
Hellcats: Anthology Page 78