Going Forth By Day

by Mary R Woldering

  Rise above it…

  no vengeance upon the righteous…

  Holy Ra… and true Djehuti

  Rein in the Daughter of the sun,

  Sweet Bastet…”

  spit flame upon the evil intent within you”

  Beneath those words, he sent a thought:

  Cease

  Do not let him feel you!

  Do not let him win this way.

  Do not give him the food of victory

  Marai shrieked silently once more. With a continuous mournful lowing sound the big sojourner began to hurl himself against the thick wall again and again. Part of the support structure crumbled into a pile of brick and white-limed dust.

  Wserkaf scrambled and righted himself, then sprang behind the big man. Something black and blood red clung to the sojourner’s back and merged with it like a demon sinking in and becoming part of his light-whitened, glowing flesh. The inspector saw Marai make no attempt to fight it. He welcomed the power of the thing that overtook and writhed within his body then emerged as the Bull of War which would send death throughout the entire kingdom. Wse had not seen Marai’s transformation into the Bakha that first day in the elder’s plaza, but he had heard of how surprising and even shocking it had been. He knew, however, if he could not calm the man or if Marai could not calm himself, the wall would soon be gone and nothing would stop his final and possibly permanent transformation. At that point, tragedy would visit anyone who had the misfortune of crossing his path.

  In the distance, carried on the wind, Wserkaf heard a voice return that sounded like the elder Hordjedtef crying out in official tones followed by the solemn ringing of a deep gong, once, twice, and on.

  ‘The great bull has died. His death cry has gone out,’ the voice halted as if it almost broke with emotion, then continued. ‘Dear ones, let us mourn our Father….’ It was part of an invocation, captured and sent to both men on the wind. As if that voice brought a flood of peace to the bull spirit in Marai, Wserkaf saw him sigh and stop the witless battery of the wall long enough for the inspector to touch him.

  The priest reached high for the man’s shoulders to gently drag him away from the wall. He dug his fingers into Marai’s lower throat. The touch, which should have struck any man cold, only slowed the sojourner for a longer moment. Marai fell to his knees by the splintered door then looked up. His eyes had become those of a bull knowing its slaughter was imminent. Wserkaf quickly touched behind Marai’s ears to calm him. He splayed his fingers out so that they extended just beneath the man’s eyes.

  “Marai. Stop this! Don’t curse in anger. It comes back threefold - arrow into spear into army. I’m in that household! It curses me too! Not all of us are your enemies. Dear gods above and below, has not sweet Naibe already cursed us through and through? Our Father is dead…” The priest commanded, then released him and began to pace back and forth. “I know Hordjedtef heard your cry, but for now he thinks he heard the cry of the bull-spirit of Our Father Menkaure moving another level further from this world. He will know the truth soon enough and come for both of us. If you go on like this, I’m sure he will know you live. The dead could feel your wrath.”

  Marai stopped, letting the priest work his calming touch into his hard-corded shoulders and neck.

  “I can’t stay here…” the sojourner gasped, out of breath from rage and exertion. He was now profoundly depressed as the calming touches spread through his sesen points. “I have to go to them. I have to get them back. I just wish I could bring you with me, so you can keep me from killing too many along the way,” he panted, almost retching and heaving in anguish.

  Wserkaf, satisfied the worst of the sojourner’s wrath had spent itself, paused and moved to Marai’s left so he could see if the big man’s eyes had cleared. They had. The specter of the bull-spirit had faded, too. His color, other than the darkness of his aura, had returned to normal. “And you know I would go with you, with every beat of my heart, if my life was even my own to chart,” Wserkaf despaired as well. “This… this right now is too much. Our king is dead and I am trapped here in Ineb Hedj because as the sun of Menkaure sets, so does the reign of Hordjedtef. It is I who am destined to replace him. Yet, even as I do and as he still breathes, it creates even more danger for me whether I stay or go.” He shook his hands several times to rid them of the wretched cramps built by Marai’s anxiety then moved behind Marai, who had stayed kneeling. Both men began to almost sway back and forth as Wserkaf’s fingers cooled the stone in Marai’s brow. “Hmph… Then there’s that… which tells me I have no business whatsoever running about in your world or hers,” his eyes grew reverent. After several moments the inspector sat on his heels closer to the broken gate and battered wall where Marai now knelt, head bowed and shamelessly weeping. “I know she had a pretty blue stone in her head. Hordjedtef told me you each had been given one and without it none of you were a threat to us; that one just needed to find ways around the energy they transmit that makes you four like gods. He was certain he would learn how to do that one way or another. The Ancient Djedi who taught him had known some methods of control or reversal.”

  Marai nodded solemnly, observing the damage he had done to the gate, doors, and the wall. He mopped his eyes with the back of his hand. He ached, body and soul, but knew he needed to level himself. Wserkaf isn’t going to be able to cover what I’ve done. Marai didn’t turn his head, but knew the few servants in the back who hadn’t gone to assist the new royal family, had rushed out during his now simmering outburst. They had returned to their preparations of foods to deliver to the palace but certainly weren’t without concern over what they had seen. Someone will talk, even if Wserkaf threatens them with beatings, and he’s a gentle sire for his workers. Silence? Secrets? Soon nothing will be hidden. It has already begun. Wserkaf knows. His wife knows something has changed. The sojourner had seen through his shared vision. First pretty Naibe came here, then I came on the night Father Menkaure passed into the Field of Reeds. Hordjedtef knows something; he has to. He’s just waiting for Wse to step into a hole so he’ll have him trapped again, Marai sighed, feeling the overwhelming urge to murder strengthening in the back of his thoughts. He knows it’s unbelievable, even to him in his long life of deep and far-reaching study. He learned early I wasn’t some piece of wilderness trash to be used and discarded. He knew his long sought ‘Ta-Ntr’ were what we called the ‘Children of Stone’.

  Noticing Wserkaf’s silence, Marai sensed the inspector priest’s thoughts as the man sat and reflected aloud.

  “Marai the Shepherd of the Sin-Ai wastes, you’re so much more than that,” Wserkaf began. “I know it now. You are the ‘no ordinary man’ old Djedi once mentioned to great-grandfather Khufu, aren’t you? You’re a man made of the stuff of dreams, the one who can unlock the secrets which have been left to us. That you’re an outsider, and an unschooled wanderer, makes you so much more dangerous to us who are tasked to keep the secret learnings pure. Once I ally myself with you, I’m no longer just a hapless fool bewitched by your charming Lilitu. Now, I myself become as much of a problem as a mere sojourner. But, what to do about this now, Marai; what to do?” Wserkaf eyed the scrapes and wounds on the former-shepherd’s shoulders and head where he had repeatedly rammed himself into the wall. “I know you call the stones ‘Children’. Great One told me this and he told me they are not of this world. He said their kind visited the world of men long ago when the gods walked as men… and are these gods in another form. My mentor was truly amazed that they would take the form of pretty stones. I don’t think he really understood how they worked, though he pretended to have full knowledge.” The inspector touched a place on Marai’s shoulder that had been wet and bleeding when he finished ramming the wall. Now it was merely discolored.

  “They do come from beyond the stars, but maybe they even come from even a different kind of world… one where time itself doesn’t even have ruler-ship,” Marai welcomed a moment of distraction in order to get better control of the still si
mmering anger. He turned away from the gate, but continued to pace away the desire to visit his wrath on the Great One.

  “Beyond the laws of Djehut and Maat…” Wserkaf lowered his head, stunned that such a place could exist outside of legend. “How is it possible that there are such lawless worlds and god-beings? Are they as stones in their own country?” he reached up to examine the place on Marai’s brow again. The inspector felt the slight tug of energy being drawn from his fingertips, as if the stone read energy from him, followed by a mild purr of approval. “Hmmm. They purr like little miws when they like you,” he suggested.

  “I don’t think so,” Marai answered, the touch of the priests fingers continuing to calm him. “They haven’t shown me more than a vision of them being made of light, so very tall and bright. They come and go as if they have bright wings like the sun, yet take whatever shape they need at any given time. They are like djin, or old ones called Annuna, but they did not ever come as overlords. I asked them to show me but they said I would go mad to see them,” Marai tilted his head backward as the inspector continued his “touch” treatment. The sojourner’s rage continued to transform into desperate fatigue. “They told me they have come back to teach some more of us. This time, they imbed themselves in the head at what they call the star eye. In the form of stone, smaller than any eye can see, are bits of spirit and memory; tiniest sparks and essences. You call it a ka. They would call it etched memory and have told me that one day many things men use will be constructed in a similar way. The stones become part of us until the moment when our body dies… and it will do that one day, they said, but not too soon. There, now you know. They teach, they change us and they make us grow.”

  “They make you into a god…” Wserkaf repeated. He understood why his master lusted for them. Faced by his ultimate death and loss of influence, he wanted that invincibility or to at least to be able to command his own mortality.

  “I think not. Not really.” Marai started to get up to go to the sesen pool. He wanted to feel the cooling water on his feet. “I haven’t felt like a god, especially lately. This Child Stone in me just transformed my body and wakened my truer self. I’m still just an ordinary poor man; just a shepherd. I wanted peace for myself and my family. I’m no king, god, or warrior. I’m no wizard either. I just want to get my wives back and to go look for a little piece of land to work, with some sheep or maybe cows this time. I didn’t really want any of this.”

  Wserkaf got up and walked to the water with him. He reflected on everything Marai said.

  “Doesn’t matter what I want though,” the sojourner continued. “He’s beaten me, your Hordjedtef has, and now your king has died. You are here and he is free of duty. He can seize the Children of Stone as he has always wanted to. Are your physicians certain he didn’t murder the king?” Marai asked. “Great One knew you were drawing away from him. I could sense that the last day before the ritual. He knew you’d have to stay close to him if a disaster struck your household.”

  “If I even think of considering that…” the inspector paled for one dreadful moment then dismissed the idea. “No. Majesty’s been having fevers and fits of despair for years since the great tragedy befell him. I think his thoughts finally wore him down and broke his noble heart,” Wserkaf decided, but the idea he might have been murdered suddenly wouldn’t leave him. Poisons or traps set in battle were all too common when a crown or other position of power was disputed. He’s been a heavy drinker ever since the time of misery began, the inspector mused. When the drink is denied him, he certainly gets in a state. Maybe the spiced grape and palm wine Great one doses with the calmative potion is just a small amount of his famous Sweet Horizon. But, who would have thought he’d have the audacity?

  Adding more aloud, Wserkaf said: “It is an unsettling point. When I return to the palace, I shall privately ask my brother-become-king, Shepseskaf, to allow me to join the Lector in the ibu, what you would call the ‘Tent of Purifying’, when the first cutting is done. If there is something unclean about the humors in him, I will see it and I will report it to him,” his face darkened again. Wserkaf knew it could have been murder. Everything Marai had said was true. He also knew Marai had to leave Ineb Hedj as soon as possible. After that? Well, Hordjedtef couldn’t live forever – or could he? The unsettling thought of a rejuvenated and vital Great One of Five formed in the younger priest’s thoughts.

  The inspector sat beside Marai at the end of the pool, in the same place where he and Naibe had first comforted each other. From time to time, he checked the big man’s vital signs and energy as he worked his shoulders and brow to make sure the big man continued to calm himself properly.

  Marai was quiet for a long time, sorting through all he had learned and dreading what he would learn next. “How did you come to be in the chamber the other day? Was it to save me? If I had truly died, you could have quit your post and taken Naibe-Ellit to another kingdom.”

  “Oh… That. I almost thought about it, but Khentie and I are bound and beloved,” the inspector hesitated, remembering, but still unsure if telling Marai how he felt would create more discord. “Naibe and I sensed it one night when it had been so splendid between us that all of the stars watched us and it seemed like even the gods wept too. I knew, inside my heart, that it was just not my path to take her,” his eyes widened in such grief that wanted to weep, but did not dare. “I had no idea that Princess Bunefer would be afraid of her, or unable to control her power. I didn’t know she was getting that much more powerful. I had no thought at all that the Ta-Seti woman would ask for the others to come with her when Maatkare Raemkai took her up the river. When I returned and found Naibe had left us, I was devastated, but I knew there was nothing I could do at that point but wait for the general to come home with them. Then, the bond between my wife and I grew a little sweeter. My Khentie knows me well, I guess, and dismissed the lie I told her. A few days later she opened her heart to me again,” the priest smiled about his wife.

  Marai couldn’t see his face, but knew the man had resolved the last of their difficulties together and that he had been able to reclaim her.

  “That night, we retired early and reaffirmed our sacredness to each other. I begged her to stay with me through the night rather than go to her own bedchamber. We slept in each other’s arms like newly wedded ones, but then she waked from a horrid dream of a man trapped in a tomb. The man had, at first, the face of the king, but then that face turned green and showed its horrible agony as he tried to break free of that tomb, yet could not go forth by day. It was Asar, she told me, but wondered what the dream could mean and why it formed in her night journey. The thought that you had not died came to me at once, but I could not accept it as truth. Then the thoughts became so strong, that by next evening, just after nightfall, I took a man with me to conduct an inspection over a matter in the chambers, and asked that she not mention it should anyone ask. When we came down the secret stair, we saw the lid of the trial sarcophagus cracked apart with the bottom part tumbled to the floor as if a thief had pounded it apart,” he continued his tale. “I have seen death and I know how an unprepared corpse should feel as it rots, wet or dry. When I reached into the broken part and touched your leg, I knew that something of the gods had taken place. I had to help you go forth. I’m sure you know the rest from there.”

  Marai shook his head, in disbelief of what he had heard, but soon he accepted it.

  “Wserkaf, you’re just too honorable not to be telling the truth. Were you really able to let Naibe go? Even I wouldn’t have let a woman like Naibe get away from me. But, then again, I did. I let them all go because I was too proud to run back to them when Hordjedtef offered me an escape. Now, they’re all with this wicked prince who’s spirited them away to a life not much better than the one they knew in the wilderness. All three women against one prince and they didn’t defend themselves? Something’s still not right,” Marai puzzled. Though his wives had just begun to learn their strengths when he crossed the river to me
et the priests, it shouldn’t have mattered. All three women with one mere mortal prince? He should have been dead in a hurry! “Deka, a concubine? Deka?” he mused aloud for a moment then dropped back into thought. “The man should have been dead before he even thought about taking the other two. Who is this Maatkare? What is he? Could he more than a simple mortal as he seems? Some unknown force is still piloting this mystery. I just hope I can find out what it is. No, I will find out what it is.

  PART 3: SENDING FORTH

  CHAPTER 23: THE WDJAT

  Prince Wserkaf, Lord Inspector of the Ways, knew he would have to return to the palace before the sun rose. He sat with the sojourner Marai to make certain the big man had recovered, but he knew the vigil and the First Rite of Passing, with all of the attendant chanting and invocations, was being spoken over the deceased king at this moment. All of the priesthood in Ineb Hedj and any visiting priests from surrounding sepats were expected to take part in this first crying out over Menkaure. After that, early in the morning and under heavy guard, his body would be taken to the ibu. Then, the creating of his Akh for the afterlife would begin. The inspector already knew he was being missed.

  Wserkaf was thankful that Prince Hordjedtef had not reached out to him over the time he spent with Marai. Although, the inspector knew the only reason Prince Hordjedtef hadn’t done this was due to scramble of his own official duties and the convincing “spiritual illness” with which he had excused himself from the ceremonies earlier in the day. The inspector knew he needed to usher Marai out of the white walled estate areas and down to the river as soon as they finished a late meal. Where the man would go and how he would begin to find his wives couldn’t be any of Wserkaf’s concern. If he thought or worried about it too much, he knew Hordjedtef would discover the truth. He needed to strike any such care from every part of his spirit.

  Every time the inspector thought on the matter, he felt Marai’s venture would be futile, even for a man of such amazing powers. For him to go up against a Prince and General as powerful as Maatkare Raemkai and for him to take on all of his troops single handedly was madness. High and very dishonorable sorcery would be needed on top of the sojourner’s calling in all favors owed by any gods he worshipped. The young general had been known to double-cross perceived enemies on a mere whim. As for chaos heka, the general was very familiar with those arts. Even if Marai was to gain on him in battle, he would likely decide the women weren’t worth the trouble and have them slaughtered. At that point, if the sojourner so much as blinked, he would be defeated as well.