The Morning Star kt-3

by Robin Bridges

  “Impossible.” He laughed, but it was a cruel and cold laugh. “You are so naïve.” He took my hand and smoothed over my skin with his fingertips. “I wish sometimes that I were as innocent as you, Katerina.”

  I’d never felt less innocent than at that moment. His touch made my stomach squirm. I was revolted. I jerked my hand back from him. “How long will it take us to reach Abydos?”

  “By pressing forward without stops along the way, we should reach Abydos by tomorrow afternoon,” the crown prince said.

  One of the Grigori brought us breakfast, a few pieces of flatbread and dates. Danilo did not even allow me a cup of coffee or tea. “You are fasting in preparation for the ritual. Only light foods and water for now. And after tonight, only water until the ritual is complete.”

  The flatbread and dates were delicious, but I feared that I would be weak by the time the ritual occurred. Somehow, I would have to keep my wits about me.

  Danilo and Mala, I noticed, were eating light meals as well. Mala nibbled on her fruit and Danilo only picked at his bread. I wondered if he was actually nervous about the ritual. As much as I hated and feared the lich tsar, I had come to feel sorry for the crown prince. I didn’t think he’d ever planned on any of this to happen when we conducted his ascension ritual in Cetinje. Being possessed had in fact been one of his greatest fears.

  I wondered if there was a way of defeating Konstantin without harming Danilo. I had no wish to marry him, but it did not mean I hoped this would all end badly for him. If I had to kill the crown prince in order to kill Konstantin, could I do it?

  A chill crept over my skin. Danilo glanced over at me and frowned. I put my napkin on the table. My appetite was gone.

  “Before we reach Abydos, I must tell you a little about Egyptian magic,” the crown prince said. “You’ve used it each time you call upon the shadows to hide you.”

  “The Sheult spell was in A Necromancer’s Companion.”

  “That book was taken from some of the writings of Ankh-al-Sekhem, as well as those of ancient Arabic and Greek necromancers. A French sorcerer compiled the book in the late sixteen hundreds.”

  It was strange to think I had the bitter old Egyptian mummy to thank for the Sheult spell. It had protected me many times.

  “The Egyptians knew about one’s cold light. They called it the ka,” Danilo continued. “Or the body double.”

  “I thought the ka was the soul they built their pyramids for.” I’d not read much about Egyptology, but I’d overheard a few conversations between tourists and tour guides while we were in the museum in Cairo.

  “According to the Ani Papyrus, the soul contains several parts, and the cold light, or the ka, is merely one part. Most of the rituals in the papyrus aid the deceased in restoring all the parts of the soul together so it may rise again.”

  I frowned. “Danilo, everyone did not return from the dead in ancient Egypt. One does not see streets populated with walking corpses.”

  He shook his head. “That is because they remain in the necropolis. In the cities of the dead. And only royalty was given the rites of resurrection, Katerina. Not everyone could be brought back.”

  The slaves and the merchants and the soldiers and the rest of the pharaoh’s people had to be content with their short, hard lives, while the pharaoh cheated death and lived on in his beautiful, gilded pyramid. It did not seem fair. “When did you have time to read so much?” I asked. “Surely you did not glean all of that information from that fragment of the papyrus.”

  “Of course not. I read Johanna’s Companion many, many years before it fell into your hands, my dear.” He nodded to the younger Grigori, who came forth with something wrapped in an old black cloth. The Grigori presented his bundle to me.

  With a bewildered “Thank you,” I took the bundle and unwrapped the black silk. The fabric was fragile, and I was afraid it would crumble in my hands. “Where did you get this?” I asked, astounded. It was A Necromancer’s Companion. But it was not my copy. This one was written in French.

  “It is a pity you did not bring your own book, Katerina,” Danilo said lazily. “Fortunately, the Grigori were able to find a replacement.”

  “You are most gracious,” I said to the Grigori, whose face betrayed no emotion. I carefully wrapped the silk around the book again and placed the seemingly innocent bundle in my lap. It had been responsible for the fate of possibly thousands of Egyptians. “Has it ever occurred to you how much our tsar is like the ancient pharaohs?”

  “They rule by divine right,” Danilo said with a shrug. “It is the will of the gods.”

  “But the people had no voice,” I said. “They lived and died at the whim of the pharaoh.”

  “Who is the voice of God.” Danilo’s eyes narrowed.

  Mala’s voice broke in on our conversation. “Your education has been filling your head with revolutionary ideas, hasn’t it?”

  “Of course not! But it does pain me to see people who believe the tsar does not care about them.”

  “Why should he care about them?” Danilo said, leaning forward. “They pay their taxes and fight in the tsar’s armies, and in return, the tsar protects them from foreign attacks.”

  “Do you think that’s all a tsar is responsible for?” I asked. “Tsar Pavel never prepared you for ruling Russia. Your father never wanted you to be tsar.” I knew I was risking Konstantin’s anger again. But I had to get Danilo to see how dangerous the lich tsar was. He would not be a good tsar. He would not listen to the people.

  Danilo’s hands pounded the table in anger. “It was not his choice! Grandmother wanted me to rule Byzantium! Nicholas tried to recapture Constantinople and failed. But now that my brother is dead, I will rule both Byzantium and all of the Russias! The two kingdoms will be united under my power.”

  Mala stood up from the table and went to kneel at Danilo’s side. “You will make a wise and powerful tsar, Your Imperial Majesty,” she told him. Her faerie eyes shimmered and it seemed to calm him.

  The Grigori standing nearby said nothing. The two men revealed no emotion, nor did they seem fazed by the lich tsar’s anger. They believed he would carry the Morning Star. And they would follow whoever carried the sword.

  “The Ottomans are too powerful for Russia to wage war against right now,” I said. “Even Empress Katerina realized this before she died. Capturing Byzantium was nothing but an old woman’s dream.”

  Danilo glared at me. “You do not deserve to carry her name, Duchess.” He stood, pushing Mala to the side as he reached out and grabbed my arm. “It is time for you to retire to your cabin and meditate for the coming ritual.”

  His fingers dug into my arm and he dragged me out of the dining room back out to the cramped deck. With a rough shove, he pushed me into my cabin. “You will be allowed out when we arrive at Abydos,” he said, locking the door behind me.

  I stumbled toward my bed. I had no idea how to prepare myself for the ritual, other than worrying about it and working myself up into hysterics. That was not something I cared to do, so instead, I opened up the French edition of A Necromancer’s Companion the Grigori had given me and searched for information on the ka. Was it really one’s cold light? That would explain why a necromancer could manipulate that light, and shadows as well.

  I flipped past the pages of incantations to Osiris that prevented the deceased from forgetting his name and past an incantation that allowed the deceased to take any physical form he wished, from a lion to a hawk. I flipped past the drawings of ornate inscriptions on ceremonial daggers and pictures of enchanted scarabs that were to be placed on the deceased’s breast.

  And finally, I came to a chapter that mentioned the Morning Star.

  28

  According to the Companion, the Morning Star could only be carried by one who could walk both the worlds of the living and the dead. A necromancer who knew the secrets of the ka and the shadows. One who knew how to coax the ka back to the land of the living.

  I was still reading the
book when Mala knocked and opened my door well before dawn. “Duchess, these are your clothes for the ritual.” She handed me a white linen robe. I was surprised she did not have a golden headdress for me as well.

  “Am I to appear as Cleopatra?” I asked, taking the robe and tossing it onto the bed.

  “You are to dress as a proper Egyptian priestess.” She stopped at the door and turned around with a vicious smile. “A proper virgin Egyptian priestess.”

  I wanted to roll my eyes at her. “How close are we to Abydos?” I asked, but she’d already closed the door behind her. I peeked out the tiny window and could see palm trees lining the dark green river. I had no idea where we were.

  I ignored the priestess robe on my bed and was going to continue reading about old Egyptian gods when I spotted the medical text I’d found in Cairo. I opened it up instead. I was amazed at how far I’d come in my Greek lessons. I only had a little trouble reading some of the ancient Greek words.

  The physician Galen wrote mostly of the organs of apes and pigs that he had dissected. The Roman Empire forbade human dissection, so he made do with animals whose anatomies were similar to our own. I soon grew tired of reading about intestines and lung tissue. I fell asleep dreaming about a pig that wore the headdress of a pharaoh.

  A sudden lurch of the boat awakened me. My head bumped up against the wall. Rubbing the sore spot tenderly, I crawled out of bed and tried my door, but it was still locked. I could hear footsteps and shouting above as people scrambled up to the deck.

  It was not long before someone came to check on me. The elder Grigori opened the door. “Are you unhurt, Duchess?” he asked.

  “I’m fine. What has happened?”

  “The boat has run aground on a sandbar. The captain is refusing to continue to sail in the dark.”

  “I take it the crown prince is not happy.”

  “They are arguing right now. It is perhaps better if you remain in your cabin.”

  I sighed. “No, perhaps I can calm him down.” The crown prince’s temper was nowhere near as volatile as the lich tsar’s. I hoped between me and Mala we’d be able to make him see reason. I followed the Grigori up the steps to the deck.

  Danilo was shouting at the captain, who looked frightened but who refused to send his crewmen down to the sandbar until daylight. It was too risky.

  “Your Majesty, the Nile is full of crocodiles and other hungry creatures,” Mala said, most rationally. “The men will be of no use to us if they get eaten.”

  But the crown prince would not listen. “We have no time to be cautious! Send your men down to make their repairs. I will guarantee their safety.”

  “How can you make such a promise?” the captain asked.

  “I shall cast a spell of protection around them. They will be safe as long as they stay within the light.”

  The crew looked at the crown prince warily but finally agreed to climb down to the sandbar. A generous-sized bag of golden coins helped persuade them. One of the younger Grigori accompanied them as well.

  The lich tsar’s green eyes flashed as Danilo spoke an incantation in ancient Egyptian. Mala stood next to me, gazing at him in silent adoration. Her worship of the lich tsar was unsettling. I understood her gratitude toward Princess Cantacuzene, but that did not mean she was obligated to follow Konstantin blindly. Unless, of course, she was starting to have romantic feelings for the crown prince as well. She certainly seemed to have forgotten all about the tsarevitch.

  The lich tsar’s spell was empowered with a drop of Danilo’s blood. He pricked a finger with his penknife and held it out over the river. It was only a single drop, but it was enough to create a magical barrier around the sandbar.

  It was also enough to attract a very large crocodile that had been dozing nearby. A dark shape just under the water approached the sandbar. It couldn’t come any closer because of Danilo’s spell, so it hovered in the dark muddy waters and waited.

  The men did not notice the reptile as they hurried to dig the boat free. Danilo sent two more of the Grigori to help push the boat back into the water. Their inhuman strength was invaluable, and they were able to free the boat in no time at all.

  But as the Grigori pushed the boat, the crew moved beyond Danilo’s circle of protection. Suddenly, there was a great splash followed by a piercing cry. I saw one of the ship’s men disappear into the river. My stomach turned.

  The rest of the men scampered to board the boat while the Grigori searched the water for the man who’d gone under. But there was nothing left of him to save. The waters turned bloody, and the man’s red cap floated up to the surface.

  Mala reached for my hand silently, and I squeezed it. The captain removed his own fez and wept. Danilo said something to him quietly, but it did not sound like words of comfort.

  “You are a monster, my lord!” the captain said. “What kind of evil have you brought down upon us all?” Ignoring the rest of us, he returned to the wheelhouse to continue our journey.

  The Grigori climbed back onto the ship empty-handed and silent.

  Mala joined Danilo, who stood at the rail, gazing down into the river. “All great leaders make great sacrifices,” she said to him. “It will be worth it in the end, Your Imperial Majesty.”

  Danilo said nothing to her, and at last she walked away to return to her own cabin, glaring at me as she passed.

  I turned to go as well, but the crown prince finally spoke. “They will say this is a bad omen.”

  I walked over to him by the railing. The sky was beginning to grow lighter. It would be dawn soon. “Perhaps it is.”

  He gave me a dark look. “You have never been superstitious, my dear Katerina,” he said. “You are far too intelligent for that.”

  I wished I had the strength and the courage to push the crown prince overboard. That would be a certain way to solve our problems. But the Grigori hovered nearby and I did not think they would let me harm their master.

  And I had to believe there was a way to destroy the lich tsar without harming the crown prince. “And are you superstitious?” I asked.

  “I come from Montenegro, a country steeped in superstitions.” With that, he left me alone at the rail wondering what he planned to do next.

  I remained outside to watch the sunrise, and the Grigori let me be. I guessed they were certain I would not make any attempt to swim for the shore now. I made the sign of the cross over my heart for the man we had just lost. I prayed for his soul and then said another prayer for my own.

  29

  We reached the dock of Belianeh later that afternoon. The excavated temples of Abydos lay several miles inland and unfortunately were only accessible by pack animal. We were met at the rail station by a herd of various-sized donkeys and young boys willing to be our guides into the desert.

  Danilo haggled with them and finally agreed upon animals for each of us, another one for carrying supplies, and two boys as our guides. The boys were anxious to set out and anxious that we return to town before sunset. I wondered how long the ritual was supposed to last.

  We left our trunks aboard the boat, for there were no inns in the small village. Mala insisted that I bring the linen priestess robe in my bag. The Talisman of Isis was still around my neck, tucked beneath my traveling dress. The lightweight wool skirt just barely covered my ankles when I climbed onto my donkey, a sweet-natured creature named Amin. The young guide told me the animal’s name meant “trustworthy.” The guide’s name was Tumani, and as we rode along he sang songs that apparently had naughty lyrics, because the other boy, who seemed a little older, yelled at him to be quiet, that his song was not suitable for a lady’s ears.

  Amin’s fur was soft between his ears. He plodded along with the others in single file as we passed through fields of wheat in the fertile area between the river and the desert. We passed a few smaller villages that dotted the landscape built up above the floodplain upon dirt mounds. Dirty children ran up to us begging for coins or sweets. I had neither, but I saw Mala pass out a
few silver pieces to the youngest ones. I wished I had something to give them.

  The ruins of Abydos sat where the green fields met the desert. The trip had taken almost two hours by donkey ride. I was hot and thirsty. Tumani and the other boy offered water to each of us before taking care of the animals.

  Mala and I fell in behind Danilo, the Grigori following us as we approached the Temple of Osiris. Legend stated that the ancient god himself was buried here. That this was where the goddess Isis had carried him. The wind was stronger here than down by the river, and my hair was coming loose from its pins. Mala had no such problem, as her hair was hidden beneath her black headdress. We both stumbled, though, as the excavated path leading to the temple was not cleared as often as the ones in the more popular sites at Giza and Luxor.

  The site was not vacant, however. Excavation was going on at the far side of the temple complex, with men directing a group of boys to carry dirt and rubbish from one of the temple ruins. A pack of tourists was exploring one of the smaller tombs nearby. Their guides sat waiting with their donkeys in the shade of a palm tree.

  “What if they try to visit the temple during the ritual?” I asked Mala.

  “The Grigori will stand guard and not let anyone inside,” she replied. “The crown prince has planned for everything.”

  The Temple of Osiris had actually been rebuilt on the same site several times over a period of three to four thousand years. Not much remained of the Great Temple, save for the main hall and its enormous columns. The stone columns were covered in hieroglyphics that told of Egyptian history. Curses, long-forgotten curses, were inscribed to ward off grave robbers. But most of the treasures in these tombs had been plundered before the first French explorers found Abydos in the eighteenth century. A few valuable pieces had survived and were now safe in museums. Other artifacts, such as the Talisman of Isis, remained in private hands. Princess Cantacuzene had stolen the talisman from the Montenegrin queen. I wondered how long the relic had been in the Montenegrin royal family.