Going Forth By Day

by Mary R Woldering

  As they finished packing, Naibe, unable to contain her excitement, went to the window to try to draw thoughts from the priest who still stood in the courtyard below. He had confronted Etum Addi, about something. The Sanghir tugged on his lower lip deep in thought as he listened to the inspector. Beginning to pace a little, the spice merchant clearly looked upset at what he heard. A moment later, the inspector smiled sheepishly, then handed the merchant a linen scroll. After Etum Addi read the scroll, he shrugged his heavy shoulders and threw out his hands a little, but then looked greatly relieved.

  As if he knew Naibe had attempted to feel his thoughts, the priest looked up at her. His hand went to his neck revealing the amulet he wore. Remembering the horror that followed the last time touched the amulet during a visit, the young woman pulled her head inside the window. She stood paralyzed with fear until Ariennu noticed and came to hug her. Why is he still trying to threaten us? Naibe wondered.

  “Don’t worry, Brown Eyes, the Children told me we have to do this. I’m sure everything will be good! Look. We’re going to be with Marai soon!” she consoled the youngest of the three women then urged her to come help roll up the last of their things.

  Within the hour, just as the market began to open for the day and the merchants had finished setting out their wares, the women presented themselves. Their apartment now stripped bare, they walked down their steps one by one. Each carried a brightly painted basket with their personal things inside. Ari, the last to leave, pointed up the steps as they eased past the peacekeepers and quietly mentioned the few remaining baskets left in the doorway for them to carry. Soon, the men brought the rest of their possessions down the steps.

  With a sad but proud and fatherly look in his eyes, Etum Addi embraced and kissed each one of the women as if they were his own daughters being sent away to meet their bridegrooms. They knew the grizzled man was saying goodbye to them for good. In turn, the women hugged his family, each of them growing a little misty eyed. Even Djerah’s family, his wife holding the baby that the women had helped bring into the world, came out to say goodbye.

  Turning back to Etum Addi, Naibe gave him an extra hug and stood on tiptoe to kiss the tip of his nose. Happily, he tousled her hair and whispered in her ear, “now you go on little goddess. You go make him some fine sons and daughters. And if that thing across the river doesn’t work out, you four come down to Ra-Kedet and look for old Etum-Addi, eh?”

  Starting off towards their future at last with the inspector and the peacekeepers leading them, Naibe started to turn and say something to those they left behind, but Ariennu quickly tugged her away. This just might be a trick, but I have to make everything appear normal, the elder wife thought as she pushed Naibe along so that she could catch up with the Deka and the inspector before the peacekeepers noticed they were lagging.

  The inspector, his head held high, walked directly in front of the three women as he and the peacekeepers led them from the Little Kina-Ahna market to the downstream dock area. One of the lightly armed men silently accompanied the indigo-robed man while the three others moved behind the women, carrying their baskets which had been filled with everything they owned. In the top of one of the baskets were packages of honey and date candy to be used as gifts for the royalty when they met. In another basket, hidden in the bottom, sat the carved wood box containing the Children of Stone. Walking eagerly and expectantly, the women knew they would soon be reunited with their beloved Marai. Once everyone arrived at the water’s edge, the men helped the women climb onto a modest sized wooden boat moored to a stone post along the dock. The oarsmen saw the approach of the entourage and sprang into immediate action so they would be ready to push off as soon as everyone was aboard.

  Naibe-Ellit was excited about going on the great river in such a fine boat. Most of the vessels people put on this river were made of bundled reed straws. Only the royalty or the noble families could afford to make a fine watertight vessel out of wood. The carved planks of this boat were stained dark by the muddy, silt-rich, retreating flood water. They were held together with rope straps and brass fittings that must have been polished nearly every day to keep them bright. Characters painted on the bow designated a name for the vessel. Ariennu had learned a few characters in Kemet writing, but not many. This name was simple: Sun’s Wisdom. Ariennu quickly whispered it to her sister-wives. Boarding the boat, Ari sat on one side of Deka in the midsection of the boat and Naibe sat on the other. Peacekeepers flanked and protected the women as the oarsmen readied themselves for the trip. Joining his men, the inspector seated himself in a shaded cabin-like area near the stern. As the men pushed away from the mooring with the long steering oars and the other men began to row to a light rhythmic chantey praising the sun, Naibe giggled a little. She was truly giddy in expectation of both the coming reunion with her love and the finery in which they now travelled.

  Watching Naibe marvel at the black-green water that churned past the dark bow, Ariennu saw her sister-wife lean over the edge to carefully stick her hand in the river for a moment. She saw Naibe giggle, shake the water off, and wipe her hand on her dress. Laughing! Look at her! And last night she was sobbing for our beloved Marai. How like a child she still is, sometimes. Even with everything that’s happened to us in our lives! Ariennu thought to herself, remembering her own sordid life before Marai arrived. It often puzzled the elder wife that Naibe could be so deeply sad one moment and so carefree the next.

  Resting as the boat moved onwards, Ariennu reflected further on her own childhood. It had been full of fending for herself. When she was small, her mother had drifted between men in the coastal and Tyrean towns of Kina-Ahna. Ariennu had learned many lessons about life long before other little girls learned them. Tolerated, but never loved, she welcomed the attention of her mother’s companions. Barely surviving her own mother’s jealous rage, Ariennu realized she had lost her hearing. After days of wandering free, she fell ill and only survived because of the mercy of an older man who had found her lying by the road. He was good to me until he tired of me, she recalled. They always are good like that. Freedom was the treasure, though. I’ve been mostly free, even after the Children…

  Ariennu remembered Deka and Naibe as they had been before Marai and the Children of Stone became part of their lives. Everything had been so different before the early morning when Marai had been brought as a captive into the camp where they had lived. He stood near the cooking fire, tall, full of muscles, and beautiful. His hair gleamed like the bright moon; his skin shone like new copper. By that time, Ariennu had grown old and had become a broken husk of human wreckage. She had been dying of yellow disease and tumors, and her sister-wives had not been in much better shape. It was such a pity, Ariennu had remembered feeling that day: A man like that one won’t be bothered with women like us. She laughed now at how wrong she had been. The kind half-giant of a man had saved them. He had taken them to a place like a cloud that lay trapped in the sand wastes, just beneath the surface of the earth. It had been the vessel of the Children of Stone. Once inside it, she and the other women had slept over two full generations in shining crystalline beds. There, Marai had shared with them the same gifts which had once been bestowed upon him. Just as he did, they each carried a small Child of Stone embedded deep in their foreheads. Each Child Stone continually whispered teachings to them about life and their new gifted futures. When they had wakened, they had been remade healthy and alluring. Despite the changes in their bodies, they still carried the shadows of their former lives, just as their husband Marai bore his own.

  Listening to the gentle but precise cadence of the rowers, Ariennu reviewed her journey with the loving man she had come to know. She patted the long, narrow purse nestled under her waist-sash. Marai had told them at the beginning of their journey together that he was supposed to go to the priests in Ineb Hedj once they arrived in Kemet. Ariennu knew that, but she had not expected to grow so close to the former shepherd before he left on that mission. Always independent and hard in
her past life, Ariennu had realized she now felt lost without Marai beside her. It hurt to be separated from him. Now that she hoped they all would soon be reunited with Marai, a sinking feeling over the inspector’s manner and the need to separate the Child stones bothered her. She saw the inspector staring hard in the direction of the white walled estates and the causeways that spilled out to the river. Ariennu sensed Naibe now beginning to realize that this priest had not told them everything.

  Is it Marai, MaMa? Is something wrong? Naibe’s thoughts asked.

  Shh. Don’t worry, Brown Eyes, Ariennu clapped her arm around the young woman and tried to reassure her. Although, the eldest wife couldn’t even reassure herself. Something was wrong. If everything had been in good order, the inspector would have been open and at least as friendly to them as he had been three weeks before when he first came to them. He would have spoken about various things: the festival, his boat, even expected modes of behavior in front of royalty. Instead, the boat trip was silent except for the cadence chant for the rowers.

  When the servants and rowers had secured the boat on the opposite shore, they lowered a plank, silently aided the women, and helped them unload their baskets. An equally silent walk to the neighborhood of the royal estates followed. The inspector spoke to the three wives only once, as they approached the wooden gates of the high priest’s estate, instructing them in the necessary homage and forms of address for both himself and his senior. “Great One” was the suitable address for his senior and “Lord Inspector of the Ways” was his expected title. He never mentioned either his own name or his master’s name. This secrecy only further challenged Ariennu’s hopes of seeing her beloved.

  The inspector and the two gate guards on duty ushered the women through the tall, carved cedar gates of the royal estate. Once again, Ariennu felt her heart rush. Everything she saw looked so familiar that she wondered if she had seen this place in a dream. Had Marai, sweet Marai, brought her here in her sleep to see where he studied? The morning he left to study with the priests had been an early one, Ariennu remembered. Marai hadn’t wanted her to wake the others, because the parting would have been too great of a trial for all of them. She had watched him go down to the water before he turned to the right and continued on to the docks to board a boat across the river to the palace area. The elder wife saw him look back at her once, then twice, and then not again. When she couldn’t see him anymore and was certain he wouldn’t turn around to get something he forgot, she had gone back inside. Her mat had looked so inviting that she had returned to sleep for more of the morning. If it wasn’t that morning, she knew she had gone to him some following night in a dream. The royal estate was just the way she had envisioned it in her dream.

  The nearly bare, shaded alcove in which the wives now stood opened out onto a spacious and sunny plaza that surrounded a wide but shallow lotus-filled reflection pool. Woven mats and soft, pleasant cushions adorned the tile-edged pool. The setting and surroundings invited one to take a refreshing dip on a hot day. An old man, whom Ariennu assumed was the high priest, sat in a carved diorite throne which had been stuffed with down-filled pillows so he could look out onto the restful pool. The placement of the chair was just so; it kept the old man seated out of the direct rays of the sun, but close enough to the pond so the trickling of water and hushing of any breeze could be of comfort to him. Whatever the use of this plaza, it was clear that everything within it was carefully set in exactly the manner that the old man wished; this was his domain.

  Ariennu sensed her sister-wives thoughts about the open plaza begin to change. Deka was lost in a memory of her forgotten past that had still not been revealed to her, despite the gifts of the Children of Stone. Concentrating, Ariennu thought she heard the phrase spoken in Deka’s voice ‘Long ago, when I was wealthy…’ Naibe’s thoughts were those of silent wonder as she touched the walls and some of their crushed, pearly coating came off on her fingers. Ariennu remembered the way she used to slip over pearly walls like these when she had been a young thief, armed only with her charm.

  They were so awed by all of the refined wealth in one place, that when the inspector turned to face the women and the peacekeepers brought them around the reflection pool to present them, they easily fell on their knees in front of the old man’s dais. As Ariennu bent down before the high priest she felt uneasy and almost ill. She couldn’t sense Marai anywhere near and began to worry about where he was. While they bowed, the inspector priest whispered something to his elder. Ari knew all of the answers were about to be revealed.

  “As I speak your names you may rise and look on me,” the elder spoke clearly, without any old-man warble and without even having to clear his throat. “ArreNu, DhKa, NaBe-EyT,” he spoke the women’s names with a thick but elegant Kemet accent that sounded more refined to their ears than their own native speech.

  Naibe’s hand trembled as the old man addressed them. She slipped it inside Ariennu’s hand and squeezed. Ariennu knew the young one was filled with fear and looking for some sort of reassurance. I can’t feel him, Ari. He’s not here. Where is he? Her thoughts sought out her elder companion.

  I know, Baby, I know. Let’s just get through this and maybe they’ll take us to him. Ariennu answered, even though her doubts grew even stronger. If Marai had been there, she would have felt his presence. She knew nothing on Earth or in Heaven would have prevented him from striding into this pretty plaza and taking them in his joyous arms. Isn’t he here? What’s gone wrong? She felt her heart rise into her throat as terror assailed her. Anxiously, her eyes glanced here and there. You can’t just bring us here for no reason! Tell us something! Ariennu’s thoughts demanded.

  Finally beginning, the elderly man in the chair pushed himself up into a standing position. The inspector moved toward him instinctively as if to steady him, but when he saw his elder stood well enough in front of his throne-like chair, he turned his gaze to the three women again.

  “We of Great Djehuti have news of your Lord,” the old man began, gently and almost quietly. “He did exceptionally well in the trials. This MrAi, astonished all of us that he learned our truths so easily. We instructed him to the best of our ability, but we warned him that the final test would be a dangerous one.”

  Ariennu heard the old man’s voice chattering and saw his mouth moving, but she already knew what was coming next. The blood left her face in a rush and a cold hand gripped her heart as if it wanted to tear it out by the roots. Her thoughts were already screaming in reaction to the unspoken words.

  “We did all that we could, even tried to dissuade him as we knew the dangers, but it was not enough. I’m quite afraid your MrAi has left this realm to drift in the Field of Reeds,” the elder priest and his inspector bowed their heads in a solemn moment of respected silence, giving time for the words to sink into the women’s hearts.

  Ariennu glanced helplessly at Deka’s bowed head. The woman of Ta-Seti had put her arm loosely around, Naibe-Ellit’s waist. Naibe’s face had gone the color of sun-bleached wood. The young one’s eyes cast up to the sky for an instant, showing only the whites as her mouth gaped in shocked disbelief. It would have been a blessing for her if she had fainted or screamed. Instead, a little high pitched whimper, a dreadful keening of the first syllable of her love’s name, issued from her throat and chest. “Ma… Ma… Ma…” Naibe’s gasping voice caught on each painful syllable as every part of every nightmare she had known suddenly came true. Her wide frightened eyes were blind in grief and her body buckled. The inspector priest started to take a step forward to aid her, but the elder’s dark arm snapped out to stay him. Deka gripped the young woman in her arms.

  “Where is he?” Ariennu felt words come out of her mouth but couldn’t feel them form in her heart before she spoke. “Where… Is… He?” she shrieked once more. At that moment, she didn’t care where she was. Pulling herself to her feet and up as tall as she could rise, the elder woman sensed herself becoming as tall as an avenging giantess, but knew these men didn
’t see it. All of the hatred that raged in her had stopped right at the Child Stone in her brow.

  Listen.

  The voice inside Ariennu whispered, but she didn’t want to hear it.

  Listen closely, carefully

  To what they tell you.

  “Where does he lie? I will see him now.” Ariennu ordered sternly, fists clenched fiercely at her side. Tears would not come to her eyes, but a silent vow coursed through her soul. I won’t cry, not now, and maybe not ever again. If he is dead then so is my heart; so are my tears!

  “I… I’m afraid you cannot see him, my poor dear.” the elder man’s demeanor became paternal and even meek.

  Ariennu simmered just below seething and boiling rage at the man’s words. She wanted to rip the tender and almost sympathetic expression right off of his face, throw it on the floor, and stamp on it. She knew in her heart that both priests were still lying to her.

  With a slight stammer, the elder repeated: “You must understand, we warned him! There is just nothing left to see,” he finished his explanation and then held up the torn shirt Marai had worn when he left Little Kina Ahna that morning.

  Taking the shirt in stunned silence, Ariennu examined the shirt she had woven for him. It had been nicely washed, folded, and tied up with the red sash Naibe had embroidered. Momentarily distracted, she saw how it had been torn across the shoulder. Untying the sash, let the tunic fall loose in her hands and thought: Oh, not too bad, I could sew this and he could still… Her thoughts stopped dead as she suddenly realized he would never wear it again. Lovingly smoothing the place where it had been torn, Ari saw for a moment that her beautiful Marai had transformed into an image of a Bull-Man the instant before it was torn. Why, Marai? Was that when it happened? She asked as if she thought he could still hear her. Why’d you do that in front of these evil men? She tried to visualize him consumed by some kind of mystical and godly flame in response to his act, but in doing so she almost heard the inspector’s thoughts: