Going Forth By Day

by Mary R Woldering

  Unable to hold on to the venom that had lost her appetite, Ariennu ate, realizing quickly that she had been hungrier than she thought. For a moment, she sat and listened to the people tell her of their good fortune to have been invited to this celebration. They owed it to their son who was moving up in the ranks of the army. Their words gushed and droned at the same time. Hot buns were served and fat-honey locusts that had been baked crisp were put out next. Ari made a face until a servant popped the head and legs off, leaving the juicy carapace that tasted a little fishy. She ate one, but decided she didn’t like that delicacy too much. She thought of the destruction the hordes of them could bring, the beady eyes and feelers, the barbed legs, the creepy wings, and shuddered inwardly at the thought of eating one unless she was desperate.

  Ariennu glanced around, increasingly bored. She didn’t want to be rude because this family was feeding her, but the temptation to drop her prisms of silence and secrecy on some good-looking young man just long enough to ease her loneliness and the irked feeling toward Deka surfaced as soon as she stopped eating.

  Hordjedtef stared at her from his place in his family group. His beady eyes bored holes in her as he attempted to read her hostile thoughts from such a distance. Her spot at this feast in his line of sight was becoming more uncomfortable by the minute. That he had been able to impose himself into her thoughts enough to discover some of the talents the Children of Stone were helping her develop embarrassed her. Now, every time she caught him looking at her, she wanted to turn away. She quickly obscured herself from his glance and in a moment, pretended she saw an old friend. Excusing herself, she got up from the young soldier’s family and ducked into a crowd to watch some of the jugglers. Thankfully, this allowed her to avoid Great One’s staring bird eyes for the next few moments. From time to time, she caught a glimpse of Deka sitting with the countesses and the wife of this celebrated young general.

  Wonder if he plans to make her a wife? Is that why she’s gone all cold to us again? She playing the part? Then we will see what we will see about that. I’ll wager some gold I can get him in my arms this very night, Ariennu smirked, eager for mischief. Her eyes sought out the man being honored tonight.

  The prince was roaming through the crowd like a stray dog. It became very quickly evident to Ari that he was focused on celebrating the event with his assembled ranks of men rather than devoting his attention to Deka or the woman who had given him children. He stayed away from the king and the families near the throne, including his own family. She saw him move among clusters of his men to other groups. He would sit and joke for a while, then move to another group to quaff some wine. Occasionally, he would grope or pester a serving girl.

  Seeing the man in his normal behavior, Ariennu suddenly she realized she wasn’t really that interested in him. Look at that. I can feel the vanity on him! Thinks he’s hotter than fire itself. What an animal. And those girls let him feel them, too, like it’s the best thing they could dream of to have his hands on them. I like a man who’s a force in bed, but I think his bed is always going to be too crowded. Maybe Deka already sips her bitter herbs with that one. Maybe he makes her watch him part other kuna lips. Maybe I…

  A murmur rose, building up in the crowd near the throne, where the king sat. Drawn from her thoughts, Ariennu turned her attention towards the throne. A nearby musician struck a different chord on his harp and his companions, glanced at one another then listened to find the new harmonies.

  Naibe had entered to begin her dance.

  As if they had been told what to expect, some of the servants moved the torches around the back of the throne so that the area darkened. Combined with the distant moonlight high in the sky, they formed a softer light in the plaza. The crowd opened a little bit so that the king and this Prince Maatkare Raemkai, who found he had drifted closer to Menkaure absent-mindedly, could see.

  Ariennu knew exactly what dance Naibe wanted to do, even though she had left before Naibe had a chance to tell her. She knew it would be Ashera’s journey into the Underworld. Like Inanna, Ashera sought her slain lover Dumuzi and traveled into the land of death to retrieve him. It was a haunting and poignant dance if done properly. Considering the magic she already felt emanating from her sister wife, she knew it would be.

  Some of the young men nearest Ariennu stopped chatting and stared in awe at Naibe’s body-covering garments.

  “Is that a peasant’s burial shroud she’s wearing?” one of the men asked. “Is she supposed to be a ghost?”

  “No, I hear bells. A ghost wouldn’t have bells. Hear the tinkling? She’s tawny skinned like a Shinar servant. Maybe it’s a Shinar dance,” another replied.

  Musicians situated themselves so the young woman would have more room in which to move. Princess Bunefer and her assistants imposed themselves at the edges of the crowd to get a better look, in case anything sacrilegious might be shown as part of the dance. As soon as the crowd stilled, Naibe spoke quietly, but beautifully, as if she had already begun to drift into a trance.

  “A dance is what it is,” she said, “but more importantly, it is about whom it celebrates. I salute Ashera of my own land, and ask that her greatness comes unto me to honor those who have lost all as I have lost,” she spoke in perfect Kemet.

  “Let me tell you a beautiful story.”

  Her Ashera voice compelled every ear and every soul. All eyes focused on her.

  “My truest love lies sleeping…

  In the Land that Loves Silence.

  I cannot live another day in the waking world.

  I will go to speak to she who reigns there,

  yet

  I dance as a woman rejoicing in the pleasure her body feels

  As it goes to be with him in his death.

  I desire his hands touching my breasts,

  stroking the wettest lips of my

  honey lotus as it opens, until I cry aloud

  his lips and tongue on all of me,

  his plow to my earth deep inside my womb.”

  Then, almost under her breath, she whispered in her native tongue:

  “She knows she would go to him,

  but he has become a god and

  she must leave the things of living on earth,

  all of her fear…

  behind her

  as she goes on her way.”

  Hordjedtef tensed at her words. Ariennu sensed he was worried she might be conjuring up the man’s wrathful ghost to torment all who were gathered. He gently raised his long, spidery fingers, ready to dispel and to protect. Ari bowed her head as bitterness rose in her heart. She thought of the way their journey had brought Naibe’s soul to this deepest onslaught of mourning. The king blinked too, troubled and sad, as if he understood the true and deeper meaning of her words. Some of the prophetesses quickly translated the last words she spoke back and forth among themselves, then pressed intently forward to pay close attention to what she would do next.

  The music began slowly at first. Naibe raised her arms to the sky. Her pose symbolically implored and sought the energy of the goddess. The almost mystical light that had been formed by the radiance from the torches in the open courtyard caught her arms as she began to draw the sense of magic quietly down. Throwing her hands up in supplication then quickly down again, her body drank in the glowing of torchlight and waning moonlight. This time, she did not try to hide the glow she exuded when the spirit took her or hide any of her sensuality. No one could speak. All sounds stilled except the shake of the sistrum, the pluck of the harp, and the pat-a-pat of the small drums, along with the tiny shimmering sounds of her belt of little brass serpents.

  Ariennu distracted herself in a renewed search for Deka across the open court. When she found her again, Ariennu noticed softness in the dark woman’s expression.

  Ah. Now the humility as our sister dances for our departed king, Ariennu’s bitter thought soared to Deka.

  Deka’s head bowed. She put her hand over her mouth to hide its expression.


  Ari knew Deka heard her thought, but she wanted to keep pummeling her with more bitterness. She saw the prince’s wife glance at Deka once, obviously unaccustomed to seeing the new concubine’s expression change. Ariennu silently growled. I see you looking and then hiding your face, damn you. She’s dancing it for all of us, you fool! At least you could have shown just once that Marai meant something to you before you pranced off with Prince ‘Happy El’ like he was some room full of rubies! the elder woman’s thoughts shrieked. She didn’t care if what she felt came through as words for the entire assembly. Her jaw set, she felt the blush of anger lining her upper cheeks.

  Deka took a deep breath and gave the appearance of shifting in her cross-legged position on the floor. Now, she sat on her heels and watched her former sister move, turning her attention away from Ari.

  Suddenly Ariennu noticed Prince Maatkare, standing nearer to the throne than to his own family. With a glance up as if he had sensed the impact of Ariennu’s thoughts, he began to snicker. About to burst into a riot of laughter, he tottered in a circle and bit his own hand to stifle a loud cackling guffaw at her epithet. Somehow, although no one else but Deka gave an indication they heard her, Ari knew the prince had sensed the thought and most of the anger behind it. Maatkare moved behind the throne and then disappeared into the assembled crowd.

  Naibe danced, circling gracefully. She seemed to rise from the ground in total ecstasy and abandonment, as if she was being lifted up by moonlight. Some of the people who saw her would later swear that she had been glowing, and that webs and trails of stars swirled in her wake as the veils and garlands of flowers she carried trailed behind her. From time to time she let a veil waft to the floor. The first one fell near the edge of the assembled crowd. She picked it up, teased with it, slithered in a snake-like fashion with a sigh and a shoulder roll, and then dropped it a little closer to the throne. She faded into the edge of the crowd, almost vanishing like a girl playing hide-and-seek, then re-appeared, whirling and leaping, settling and swaying.

  When she drifted into the group of prophetesses, she drew them out into the plaza with her. Soon, these holy women began to sway, as if the immense spirit of sensuality in the air had entered them too. This foreign dancer had called so much of the goddess’ passion that it could not be contained in one mere human form. Following her, they danced in a wonderful serpentine that wound about the plaza. If a veil came loose, they revered it, passed it back, and graced the floor near the throne with it. The king was almost on his feet by that time, beaming in joy; his heart melting. His eyes misted with the thought that the women, his prophetesses and truthsayers, could show him so much love after he had brought such a sense of quiet-but-troubled sterility during these last six years of his reign.

  Naibe felt the rolling surf of a distant sea inside of her body as she moved. She became part of the ocean and felt the memory of Marai, come to her as if his ghost was transformed into the strong surf that crashed down on her, briefly owned her, and then drew back out of her. That was her last clear thought before the ecstasy overwhelmed her. The faces blurred, her mouth gaped joyously, and she knew nothing more. The dancing continued, though, more intense than before. Some of the women wept in ecstasy as they danced a little more slowly and reverently. The men’s faces were chalk. They wanted to be with her too, but knew oblivion waited in her sweet arms. This was a woman’s prayer to the spirit inside all that is a woman in her passion.

  Ariennu grinned ear to ear, like a silly imp, but continued to watch Deka out of the corner of her eye. Deka, what is wrong with you? You’re not Bone Woman in the wilderness, you’re not our quiet sister who lived with us in Little Kina-Ahna. Ari knew she was looking at a goddess re-born. Did sleeping with him do this to you? Are you even free? Is it a spell? Let me break it, if it is.

  Deka gave no indication she felt Ariennu’s thought.

  As Ari glowered at Deka, the dance finally rushed to a peak. Then, suddenly, it paused. And Ariennu heard Naibe’s sultry, but child-like thought voice.

  Oh Marai, for you,

  my first true love.

  Would that you had lived.

  If my dancing could wake you.

  To return you from death

  would be my delight.

  Burn through me.

  Consume me.

  Take all of me so that I cannot exist apart from you.

  Naibe bowed her head. Her chest heaved slightly as she panted and sighed. She genuflected near the throne, just short of King Menkaure’s foot. He bid her rise, his hand grasping hers and he lifted her so her dance could continue.

  Ariennu felt her own emotion and grief over the loss of Marai rise at that moment. Oh little one. You are so lovely. Know he hears you. He does, I swear he must.

  Ariennu took a step backward, but as she did she sensed someone standing behind her. Gentle fingers touched her waist and then crept around it. Ari saw an immaculately manicured dark hand and felt its controlled strength. It was a man’s hand. Ariennu sensed who the man was without fully looking at him: Prince Maatkare.

  CHAPTER 27: THE COMPETITION

  “I would prefer if you did not touch me,” she whispered tersely under her breath.

  A slight, throaty chuckle, like a deeper version of a hyena’s titter, responded. Something about that sound chilled her heart, but the thought didn’t last. “That so?” the prince tugged her backward against him then brushed his hips and cedar hardness in a semi-gentle grind against her rump.

  “Whew! Dance got you on a rut, Highness? I can feel that!” she smirked, a little more wide-eyed.

  Sits my king with a cedar rising in his lap.

  Ari felt a verse to the Ashera poem she had known since her childhood in Tyre drift through her heart. And here comes this one with the biggest tree in the whole damned forest. I think I will want to see that tonight, after all, she cackled to herself but fought back the instant delight that wanted to turn her kuna-gate into running honey and her knees into jelly. Everything about him felt good to her; too good. Even worse, she knew he could read her excitement like an inscription on a monument.

  “Uh, Highness,” she said as she tried to hide her regret at needing to turn down his silent offer, “seems like the women you need are all over there.” She vaguely pointed to Deka and the plump, sour-faced wife with her maid, trying not to visibly shudder in delight.

  Maatkare ignored every word she said and nibbled the back of her neck insistently. The edge of what she believed was his double-striped nemes tickled her bare upper back.

  “Damn you! Stop it,” she whirled, then realized she had been rude to a man who could have her destroyed in the blink of an eye. She hesitated, with a sharp intake of air, and dropped her gaze in false deference to the prince. Ari felt his hand firmly grasp her chin and raise her eyes to him. She knew he had instantly read her complete lack of reverence.

  As he released her, she noticed he was exactly her height, then stared directly into the smoldering green and gold eyes that didn’t quite match his dark, rich brown skin. Like a dog she thought, then caught herself. Whoa. That’s Deka’s eye-color; her cat self. Some animal magic going on here?

  “True. They are over there,” he admitted, insistently nuzzling, nipping, and licking the side of her neck. “But, I’d rather have you tonight. Come, walk with me. Taste this new wine they just brought out. At least do that,” a sly, self-assured smirk curled one corner of his sensuous mouth. The prince tugged Ariennu out of the crowd that had been straining to watch Naibe’s dance.

  His tug reminded her of the way she had seen him pull Deka toward Hordjedtef’s outer gate the first night after they had been brought across the river. Something else about the touch of this man’s hand struck a familiar note. As he held her hand, she felt his thumb suggestively caress her palm. The gentle and incredibly sensual feeling compelled Ariennu to stay with him, even though moments ago, her anger spent, she had begun to think her mission of taunting Deka was a foolish one.

  A ring! It�
��s just like the one the old man had on his hand this afternoon! He’s got one of those damned rings on his finger! Ariennu glanced at the prince’s hand as it lay over hers, but grew too dizzy to focus on his elegant-but-powerful hands. In a sidelong glance she made out the twisted leathery ring at the base of his middle finger. Ummmmh… Goddess, he’s gorgeous. So why does he think he needs to compel me? she averted her eyes, a fake shy expression on her face. I’ll grab some wall for him, he just has to point me to a good place away from all this commotion. She giggled a little, but sobered up quickly with another thought. I was thinking of getting something tonight anyway. Why does he want to do it this way? Proud fool, her thoughts trailed as she stumbled through the crowd, towed by the man who had been her hottest of fantasies until tonight when she was actually confronted by him. She didn’t like being the hunted one, especially when it had been her idea to hunt and conquer him.

  The prince half-dragged her to the wine room where the large, painted ceramic urns and barrels were kept. Servants, directed by the stewards, came in one after another to refill pitchers for the crowd. One huge red jar stood in the corner. The prince filled its dipping ladle and with a slight, almost comical, bow and offered it to her.

  Ariennu didn’t want to seem too easy to conquer, if the evening was going to go the way she expected it might go. Being coy would only heighten her pleasure and his, when she finally let him take her. “So, I said no,” she pretended some resistance. “Now you want to make me drunk enough to fall down and let you crawl up on this?” her voice lifted in mockery as she indicated her mount through her kalasaris. “I know you take me as eager, but I can see your game. Your grandfather has already showed me how your kind charm your prey before you pounce.”