“They are unhappy of this prince.” Djerah’s voice implied Marai and Akaru were too complacent.
Marai studied the tone of it… how the sound of the young man’s voice sank lower as he spoke.
Djerah… he sent a thought.
It’s alright. I’m just telling him something. I’ll be fine. Spending the day with some like my own kind helped me think about it all. The young man returned, then spoke aloud, “They want to go challenge him about the bad meat he sent, about the way he’s been ever since he was given full leadership. They said his father was firm but was a just man, and he is not.”
The elder nodded.
“I know. Perhaps I will go with you again and speak to these men, but dark is with us.” Akaru inclined his head toward his wife Xania, who was standing in the doorway to his suite. “You men sleep. We’ll sort this out in the morning, eh?”
Marai and Djerah both knew the elder didn’t intend any further discussion of the matter.
In the morning, Xania bent to touch Marai’s arm.
“Metaut’ep is at his observatory. He wants you to come as soon as you can,” Her grim voice announced. “The young man has gone. Others have gone with him.”
Marai read the worry in her darting eyes and instantly grabbed for his sack of stones. This time, he didn’t even check the empty mat.
You would think the Children would not allow me to sleep as if I had died when something like this happens. He started, then realized after a second blind sorting through the bag that there were only seven stones. He poured them out and knew at once that Djerah had taken the small crescent shaped Yah stone.
“Damn him!” He quickly closed his eyes, breathed out, and saw through his own stone all that had happened in the pre-dawn hours.
As soon as he decided everyone was asleep, Djerah rose and called on his ‘fledgling’ power, as Akaru had called it, then took the bag of eight stones. Marai saw the young man go out to the area near the central courtyard where he had seen Akaru meditating once. The stonecutter spread out the stones exactly the way Marai had placed them when he gave him the Yah stone on the way from Ineb Hedj.
Sneaky whelp. Didn’t think he was even interested. I know he couldn’t have been watching me that carefully. Marai remembered the protestations, the not wanting to see him use the ‘heka’ stones, the wonder as if he had no understanding of the vision of his great-grandmother as a girl. So he was watching me after all. All that and he claimed to not see his wife with that man? Pshht!
Marai’s memory sorted through images of Djerah whispering into the pattern that formed above the stones as if he had woven the spell every day of his life. In the ghostly light that illuminated Djerah’s face, the sojourner saw how empty the stonecutter’s eyes had become. His expression was that of a resolute warrior who knew he would die soon and welcomed it. As the brief vision faded, he sensed Djerah taking the single stone and putting it in his own bag. Then, he saw the young man rise, salute the empty air, return the remaining stones and slip past sleeping guards on his way to the river.
And they slept! This is just the way it was when the Children spirited me to their vessel with the little balls of light, past Sheb, Houra, my relatives and the damned thieves who were lurking among us that night. He shook his head. Purpose and control. Is this meant, or is some greater force moving the game pieces again?
“He’s gone to the plain to take on Prince Maatkare, that’s what he’s done.” Marai quickly grabbed his walking sandals, tied them, threw on his cloak, and found his staff. “He lied and I fell for it. He went to the fishers and got them talked into going. He wasn’t with playing with the women all afternoon; just a few moments. The rest of the time he was rounding men up and making plans. He told the girls and they spoke to friends from up the river. He’ll get himself and every one of those adventure-happy wretches killed!”
“My beloved waits at his observatory. See him. At least do that,” Xania conveyed that her husband Akaru was easily as upset over this turn of events as he was himself.
That’s what he said, damn me. I should have listened to the spaces between his words. He was trying to tell me, but I didn’t hear, Marai nodded and hurried toward the observatory.
The sojourner knew Djerah, even if he had been in the kings’ militia once, wouldn’t have the skill of the greenest of raiders. He and his followers would be marked and picked off easily by the prince’s perimeter guards. Their deaths would not be swift. Ahead, Marai saw Akaru-Sef planting himself in the doorway to his observatory temple.
“Come!” the elder called, his face creased with anxiety. “Talk to me first, before you go.”
“No. Time’s up,” the big man whirled around to leave. The elder stretched his arms forward as if he intended to stop him.
“No!” the Akaru’s voice trembled in its unusual force. “Do Not.”
Marai froze. For a half-instant he felt a distortion in the air as if a sudden wind had gusted but retracted just before it reached him.
“Don’t follow him! You can’t trail your young man without alerting the whole of His Highness’ encampment. You can’t go against his army.”
Marai remembered the way the Children of Stone had helped him cross the wilderness when he first discovered their vessel by placing orbs of light in his path. In the same way, the Yah stone would likely amplify the power of moonlight if Djerah went out into the scrub before day. That light would be seen by the perimeter guards like a distant watchfire. Stupid. Stupid… his thoughts repeated.
“You know that’s not true!” he turned. “If you knew anything about my life you would know I got my start whipping a band of thirty thieves. Enough talk. From what I’ve learned I could take those troops surrounding him, kill him, and then the rest would scatter like rats.” Marai began to storm away, but Akaru hurried behind him as he cursed. “Damn him, he made things worse. And damn me for bringing him. I didn’t need any of this…”
“Wait. If he and the boys can surprise the camp, there’s still a chance.” Akaru-Sef suggested. “You go in hard and he loses that advantage. His Highness likes strong wine as much as he likes his fine women. If young Djerah is lucky, his Highness might be drunk or with one of them.” The elder urged him to stop, but Marai continued marching out of the gates.
“Surprise won’t work. That prince is no wilderness thief. He’s a top general with trained men,” Marai slowed, then looked back to find the elder closing on him quicker than he thought a man his age would be able.
“Stop,” Akaru called again. This time, Marai felt the gust of wind and the distant roar of a storm in his thoughts. It marched up his back, physically grabbed him, and slowed him down. He turned and for the briefest of moments thought he saw a golden flash in the old man’s eyes. A twinkle bounced up from the elder’s eyes but vanished before Marai identified it.
“Wh?” Marai asked. “Oh no, you don’t compel me.” Marai shuddered. Everything he thought about the elder Akaru was suddenly wrong: his tranquility, the way all things could be solved with good food, pleasant music, and willing fisher girls on the river. Djerah had seen through all of that and had only pretended his seduction by all of this tranquility. Marai wondered, for an instant, why he himself had been beguiled.
“You don’t want me to get my wives, do you?” Marai continued walking away, forcing against the now gentler gust. “You want me to wait because you don’t want any trouble.” He shrugged, hoping his rage wouldn’t propel him into the shape of a bull. “Maatkare knows that. He toys with you every time he comes here. It’s you… So, not this time, friend.” Marai trotted out into the field. He didn’t notice the Akaru’s face had changed.
The elder moved closer to him, lifting his hands again. This time Marai felt the breeze draw away his rage. The big man sensed his attempt and sent his own gentle thought in return.
I understand your regret. You tried to help him, but you failed. Let me go. Just get more men of Buhen to come behind me in the evening if you do not feel my me
ssage.
Marai shrank into the tall grass, but slowed long enough to fix his thoughts on the young man.
He thought he had nothing to lose but his life and everything to prove to himself if he comes out alive, the sojourner considered. He broke his back for that useless woman. Maybe he didn’t even really like her that much but his sense of duty to his family made him stay and work harder. So evil didn’t turn to good as the song says. This is his last try then, but I did not bring him here to die. Marai shook his head but continued striding into the grass, his rage at the new set of complications building.
What am I doing? I could kill this prince from here. I don’t even have to see him. I could freeze his wicked heart, he thought. Let me see Djerah first, though. Let me try to call him back.
He paused, hand to his brow and eyes closed lightly.
Djerah crouched, as if he had been born a wilderness raider. A group of about thirty-five men huddled with him behind the last safe ledge before the camp. He was acting the part of the very military commander whom they stalked. He gestured for the men to keep down until the camp had been quiet for a while. They planned to rush, kill the prince and seize the women then get to safety before they were caught. Maatkare’s death, Djerah told them, would give his suddenly freed troops such a sense of freedom that they would welcome the coup.
Djerah don’t do this. His men do not feel like slaves just because you did a few years ago. It won’t work. He’s a god to most of his men.
Djerah opened his hand and spoke through the glimmering white stone in his palm.
Stay out of this Marai. You surprised I can hear you? His inner voice was as tart as his actual tone. See, this stone gives me the power, now.
You don’t understand. It has no power, Marai protested from afar.
No power. Ha!! You’re trying to lie to me again. Even so, I got tired of sitting on my hind end while you and the Lion Master held each other’s hands like a couple of old women. His men are sick of him too; endlessly spouting how they should be gentle farmers and respectful hunters under the wise guidance of nature. It isn’t right. I told them we came from a stock of folk who have powerful gods like Sin and El who don’t need a woman’s permission. Djerah’s thoughts grumbled.
You’ll be killed. And you don’t understand how their worship works at all. They war when attacked. The bad meat was close to bringing it, but no one was hurt. The prince knows exactly how far he can push it. It’s what gives him his power! Marai tried desperately to explain but knew Djerah wasn’t listening. You’re outnumbered at least thirty men to one, and his men are seasoned. You’d better turn back if you expect to live.
Djerah’s thoughts interrupted.
I’m ready. I’ve lived enough life to suit me. Warrior’s path is better than following you around.
Warrior? Fool. That’s it. I’m on my way. Marai sent his anger over the distance. You can’t let the loss of your family do this to you; not like I did for my little wife who didn’t even care for me much. He anguished briefly over how the history of the men in his family was grimly repeating itself and knew no amount of talking, ethereal or in person, could change that.
You don’t want to listen, and you’re pretty hot now. Your ancestors would be proud, but they would also weep at the coming waste. I won’t remember what you just said, but I’m on my way now, so if your real motive was to get me moving, you won, you stupid fool. Marai sighed once and touched his bow, to focus on the direction he would take.
Ho… No you don’t try and talk to me. We’re going in, in two hours, so you’d better show me how you can walk on air! his thoughts mocked. You think I believe you’re coming for your women out of love, so you can tell me how I feel? This is about stolen property, isn’t it? It’s not about love or you wouldn’t have let any one of them lay an hour with that bastard once you knew.
Marai wanted to reach out and slap the stonecutter for that comment, but felt another calm wave enveloping him from the direction of Qustul Amani.
Do not stop him, friend Marai. Akaru’s voice echoed in his thoughts. You are surprised that I have powers you have not noticed until now? It is so. I have them, but I am always loath to use them unless I must. This I tell you. As all who awaken must first die, so too must this fledgling. It is all I can say to you.
Hordjedtef’s mystery school wisdom, Marai thought. The initiation with the mock-death of three days followed by the rising. Djerah begs for this? No. You’re wrong. He’s just lost his wits. There is nothing mystical about this, nothing at all. He just wants revenge. Can’t you see that?
But it is still his choice. Can you not see? Let him go. Let him be a man, the elder pleaded.
Let him be a fool.
But let him be…
Marai fought a little more, but then sat. A bellow started in the pit of his being, but he stopped it because he knew the prince would sense it. Djerah had made his choice, good or bad. At that moment, Marai felt it would be bad.
CHAPTER 18: DEFEAT
“Your Great Highness...” a voice called outside the flap of Maatkare’s red, white, and yellow tent. At first, he paid little attention. Eventually:
Mmm? one slanted brow raised. No, I don’t think you want to rouse me, out there. His fingers rose a little about to deliver a prickle of discipline to whoever it was. Not my regulars. They know better. Not your pretty new guards, Nefira… just… shhh… he shook his hand, smirked and waited.
“Aah! Your Highness…” the expected cry returned and the edge of Maatkare’s mouth twitched again in delight. He felt Deka pause, then noticed her hand tremble just a little as she tenderly traced his brow.
He admired her. Early this morning he woke and found her stretched over his chest and lying the way one rescued from drowning might cling to a raft. He didn’t let women remain in his bed often but the thought to put her out wouldn’t stay. His hunger was only partly relieved. He brought her up as he sat, kissed her gently, then parked her legs on either side of his waist. She shuddered in delight but he stayed her in his lap so she faced him. He wanted her to enjoy the feel of him against her for a while longer.
“Open your eyes to me, Nefira Deka,” he whispered. “You know what I want, don’t you? The reflecting game your heart wants.” She asked to show it to him once, but he waited for the right conditions. Waking aroused wasn’t quite the right excuse. That was easy. The rest of the morning was perfect. The bright sun began to warm the tent, but a gentle breeze kept it comfortable.
Outside, noises of men milling around in the common area increased.
He ignored them, concentrating instead on the vibration of erotic might coursing through both of them.
No, not yet, his thoughts whispered. It was taking so much of his strength to resist her hot fragrance wriggling against his upright shaft. Too fast, too fast… Shhh, easy… He traced her brow with his fingertips to calm and slow her.
“Now you trace me. Match me like a reflection in a polished plate. Close your eyes. Sense my moves. Slow… slow… very gentle.” He felt her squirm and her heart pound against his chest. Her breath came in passionate gasps. “Easy now, draw it out and make it last. Use your strength for me. Draw it inside you and make it be so much stronger.”
Her stone, like a single large drop of red blood, pulsed faintly on her brow. Her eyes closed in gasping rapture. She moaned in frustration.
“Now open them, but focus on my face until all you can see is my eyes. You will not even know when I take you, because it will feel as if I have always been inside you so deep and snug.”
What seemed like tenderness at first, had become a sharing and transfer of energy. He knew she was gifting him with her unconscious power now. Any barrier between them had fallen away. He owned her, but he allowed her to think she owned him.
“Touch my brow, I touch yours. Feel her blow her breath on my face so calmly.” He repeated it, feeling that tremor of power rising. “Nice.”
He heard the voices grow louder.
Damn
. My lesson to whoever the poor bastard out there was didn’t take, I see. Someone always has to interrupt me. Thought because we got back last night and I gave out extra beer, I’d get one morning without the daily dung. Too much to ask for, I see.
Just thinking of the men outside distracted him to the point of recalling something two weeks earlier that old holy man had rattled at him about the bad storms being due this year.
I deal with things. The gods, I think, are pleased. Made you run up to your grandson and take all of the pretty women, didn’t I? Said it was over the alignment of stars. Hah! Lies, Akaru Metauthetep, old fool. I know what I saw in your observatory that night. I saw the way those stars lit up the crystal shaft in its core. A trick of moonlight that makes it glow like heka fire. And I have fire itself sitting here in my lap wanting to sheath me in its honey so bad that she cries for it and aches. Maatkare studied Deka’s gently closed eyes, savoring the moment.
“My Lord Highness” a different man, his scribe, stood outside the closed tent flap, his voice sounding like the wing-whine of a gnat. The prince didn’t want to make an example of this man too. He paused, looking over Deka’s shoulder for a moment.
Curse them. They know better than to lurk around this tent… only in a dire emergency should they, and I sense nothing of the sort but this beauty going all aflutter in need of me. Prince Maatkare seized the woman and nipped at her throat almost tenderly, then harder as he felt her sigh in a little pain. She hissed in ecstasy, eliciting his own animal nature that manifested as a throaty growl.
“Do you fear me?” he grabbed her jaw and squeezed until her eyes opened.
Deka wrested her head to one side, shutting her eyes again and letting the tears of ecstatic pain flow. “I do,” she gasped. “You are the dark places in my heart. I mirror our emptiness to you to show you your own darkness…” she whispered, as if she quoted the lines of an old script.
“Your Highness...” the voice of his captain of the hunt insisted. “Men are dead on both sides out there to the north…”
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