She did, craning her neck to see his face. “Merys was right. You are handsome.”
Although his heart hurt, he laughed. Giving her a small hug, he set her on the sand. He squatted so they could be eye to eye. “I brought you something.” He handed her the doll, which she embraced with a glad cry. “Are your sisters here?”
She pointed a chubby finger at three women huddled together in the center of the circle. Her other hand tightened on his. “But I want to stay with you till Merys comes.”
Bek closed his eyes as pain and regret washed over him once again. He shook his head. “She isn’t coming, sweetheart.”
“Did the bad men hurt her?” Tyema was solemn. She put a hand to a vivid purpling bruise on her cheek. “They hit me because I was crying. But I was so scared.”
“Of course you were scared, little one. But the danger to you is past now.” Bek brushed her tangled hair, patted her cheek. “No one will ever be able to hurt Merys ever again.”
“She’ll be in the Afterlife?”
He nodded. He was afraid he couldn’t speak past the lump in his throat.
Tyema dug her toe in the sand. “I’ll miss her.” A tear fell from her eyes.
Bek reached out and wiped it away with one finger. “I know. I’ll miss her too.”
The Great One stood and surveyed the crowd of villagers. They gawked at him, silent now. In his enhanced human form, he stood taller and cut a more imposing figure than a normal man. Lit from within by his anger and grief his eyes glowed gold from the battle. “Well? Do you know me?”
One older woman on the edge of the crowd nodded. “You are Sobek, the Great One.” She fingered a small crocodile-shaped bead suspended from braided twine on her wrist. “The day her family shunned her, Merys said you had returned to the old temple, claimed she had been with you.” She looked at the other villagers. “He was our protector while the temple stood, while the priestesses observed the rituals. But we lost our faith.”
“Yes, you did, old one,” Bek agreed, his voice harsh. “Merys was the only one who kept faith.”
“Forgive us, Great One.” The elderly woman dropped to her knees. The rest of the crowd began prostrating themselves to him as well, crying, calling his name, asking his forgiveness.
Bone tired from grief, heartsick, he wanted nothing so much as to be done with this task. Away from wretched humans, able to mourn in private for my loss…but there are things which must be done. He took a look behind him at the Nile, where Hykso men screamed and sought escape from his vengeance. Their struggles were futile. Two of the three ships had sunk. The third was listing and would soon be aground on the opposite bank. He sensed no living things on board.
He snapped his fingers at the crocodiles on the beach. You have done well this day, my children. You may leave now, return to your beaches and coves to rest. You have my gratitude.
The beasts crawled past him, going faster and faster toward the Nile, slipping into the waters and swimming away. He caught flickers of their slow reptilian thoughts as they went, tired, confused, sated. A tug at his hand interrupted his contemplation. He remembered the little human girl by his side.
“Tyema, go to your sisters.” After he released her hand she walked slowly to the trio of women, who hugged her close.
Bek drew himself to his full height, calling upon the energies in the universe that supported and nourished the Great Ones. With a tremendous flash of green light, he transported the townspeople to the village square.
Bek kept himself invisible as he arrived on the steps of the temple of Horus.
The young nomarch Ienhotep was in the square now with a large company of his soldiers. He and the village headman had obviously been conferring, with the surviving villagers gathered close to listen.
For a minute Bek watched the happy reunions as the people his crocodiles had rescued reunited with their loved ones. The hugs and cries and sheer joy unfolding in the square hurt him. Bitterness burned his throat like poison. Thanks to me these humans have a second chance, but for me there is no happy ending.
He shifted, becoming half human, half crocodile. Time to deal with this village in my more godly form. Let them be in fear and awe of me and my wrath. In a subtle flickering of emerald light, he relinquished his invisibility. Gradually the villagers became aware of his looming presence and most prostrated themselves in the dirt, heads toward him. The nomarch looked Bek up and down, showing no sign of fear, then knelt on one knee, secure in his high rank.
“Our prayers have been answered,” said the village headman, peering cautiously at Bek from his prone position. “All praise to the Great One Sobek, guardian of our village.”
There were cheers. Bek eyed Ienhotep. “How did you get here so rapidly?”
The noble wasn’t intimidated. “I was conducting maneuvers nearby, Great One, and received word of the Hykso incursion.”
Bek put his hands on his hips and scowled. “While I took my warriors, the crocodiles of the Nile, and fought your battle, rescued your citizens. The three Hykso ships I destroyed this day were on their way upriver to pillage more of your villages. Perhaps they planned to assault your capital city itself. After word spreads of how I protect my own, how I take my vengeance, your lands won’t be threatened again.”
Ienhotep bowed low. “I am indebted to you, Great One.”
Bek nodded and raised his voice to address the crowd. “People of this village, be aware you owe my intervention to Merys, Priestess of the Temple of Sobek. She alone among you had faith in me, observed the proper respect between humans and the Great Ones assigned to watch over you. She perished this day. What do you propose to do to appease my anger at the way she was treated by this village, by her own family?” He sent a tremor through the ground under their feet.
“We—we will rebuild your temple, Great One—”
“We will sing your praises—”
“Observe your festivals—”
“Fill your temple coffers with gold—”
He stopped the clamor with an upraised hand and a hiss, revealing his bared fangs. “You may rise and hear my words of judgment upon you. Firstly, Tyema shall be high priestess.” He gestured to the small girl and the people beside her moved away as if afraid he might throw lightning at them. “The nomarch will rebuild my temple before the next flooding of the Nile and Tyema shall lead the singing as the temple is rededicated.”
“Merys taught me the songs.” Tyema nodded once, balancing on her twisted leg. The girl lifted her head and stepped forward, coming to join Bek on the stairs. As she came, he cast healing energy and a green glow played upon her weak limb, until she climbed the final stairs with two healthy, sturdy legs. This simple misalignment of bone and tendon I can fix. The terrible wounds inflicted on my precious Merys are beyond me. To my everlasting regret. Tyema did a little twirling dance step, then leaned confidently against him.
“The captain of the guard and his wife shall be the appointed guardians of my priestess Tyema until she reaches adulthood,” Bek said. “And from this day forward, no woman shall be without a dowry in this village. The sum shall be taken from the treasury of my temple as needed. Tyema and her descendants shall administer the fund in honor of Merys.”
The captain of the guard cleared his throat as he stood holding the hand of Merys’s half sister. Bek spared him only a passing glance. “If you keep faith with me this time, your village shall prosper. If you observe the rituals and tithe to the rebuilt temple, no crocodile shall ever take the life of any man, woman or child resident to this village.”
A song in his praise rose among the villagers, some trying to remember the words to songs dedicated to him, but Bek fixed his eyes on Ienhotep. The noble watched him warily but with no hint of fear. “You owe me one more thing,” he told the provincial ruler.
“You have but to name the act and it shall be done, Great One.”
Bek called Merys’s body to him, still wrapped and hidden in the soft blue blanket. He descended the temple
steps carefully, holding Merys in his arms for the last time. Tyema walked beside him. “You will bury this woman with the highest honors, as if she was a member of your own household. All ceremonies must be observed in accordance with the smallest details in the Book of the Dead. She shall be sent to the Afterlife lacking for nothing. I want her richly equipped with the finest jewels, perfumes and robes.”
“It shall be done, Great One, as if she were my dearest sister. This I swear.” The nomarch stepped forward to take Merys from Bek’s arms.
Bek released his precious burden and put his head close to Ienhotep’s. His next words were only for the young noble’s ears. “And on the tomb you shall inscribe ‘Here lies Merys, Beloved of Sobek.’”
“Each part of the task will be carried out as you request, I swear.” The nomarch bowed his head in acknowledgement.
Bek squatted to look Tyema in the eye. She didn’t flinch at proximity to his great crocodilian head. Bek held out his closed hand. “I give these to you.”
She opened her palm and he rained six teardrops of emerald onto it, his tears for Merys. Tyema closed her small fingers over them, rose on tiptoe and gave him a kiss on the edge of his snout.
Bek stood, patted her on the head and disappeared forever from the village.
Chapter Four
Merys was tired of walking. Where am I going? How did I come to be in this tunnel? She contemplated the passageway filled with mist and bathed in blue light. She stumbled and stopped, one hand on the cold stone wall to steady herself. She was dressed in fine robes, bedecked with jewels. A thin gold circlet held her hair. Rings and bracelets she had never seen before adorned her hands and arms. Her shoes were soft leather, lined with fur, trimmed in gold. Merys turned to see what lay behind her. The tunnel ended at a closed door. The door fit snugly into the tunnel wall, with no handle, no hinges.
“My tomb,” she said out loud and the words echoed. She felt strangely detached from the reality. “But my family wouldn’t honor me so, even if they had the funds.” She put a hand to her forehead and rubbed at a sudden ache behind her eyes. I remember the Hykso finding me on the beach but the details are gone. Those wouldn’t come to her mind. A blank white space filled her head when she tried to think of those moments after the enemy soldiers had landed on the beach.
Bek was there. I remember him holding me, then nothing more. Merys laid her forehead against the wall and the cold seeped through her body despite the fine dress and filmy scarves. “I didn’t survive the Hykso attack. He came for me, but he was too late.”
She slid down the wall and sat huddled for a few moments, mourning all she had left behind in the upper world of the living.
Eventually, Merys took a deep breath and stood, using the wall for support. She smoothed her skirts and straightened her jewelry. Every Egyptian, even the children, knew at the end of this tunnel lay the Hall of Judging, where her heart would be weighed and her spirit’s ultimate fate decided. It is no less and no more terrifying than what I have already endured. It doesn’t matter what happens to me now that I can no longer have Bek. A flash of painful sorrow shot through her at the thought.
She walked on. A lighted chamber lay ahead and as she entered the enclosure, she found Anubis, Thoth and Lady Ma’at waiting as she expected. Anubis had the semblance of a man from the neck down, well muscled. From the shoulders up, he was a sharp-featured, ebony-furred jackal. Long, pointed ears framed a feral face. Cold emerald eyes glowing with uncanny brilliance scrutinized her as if assessing whether she was to be his prey in some otherworldly hunt.
Breathtakingly beautiful, Lady Ma’at had a kind face and welcoming smile. She was clad in fine white robes, and many intricate necklaces formed a multicolored collar swathing her elegant neck. A scarlet ribbon headband threaded its way among the glossy curls on her head, holding a large feather, which curled gracefully back over her hair.
Thoth sat behind her, cross-legged on the floor, in the manner of all scribes. Merys rejected a mental picture of her father, working on his scrolls in the village. I won’t think of him anymore. Thoth held a sharp reed pen upraised in one well-formed hand and clasped a small oblong tablet in the other. His head was in the form of an ibis, with an elegant, long curving beak and fine green iridescent feathers. Merys had often seen such birds in the shallows of the Nile.
Her attention was drawn to an unexpected fourth participant as he strode forward from the shadows.
“Sobek!” Her heart raced and tears clouded her eyes. She ran to him and he met her halfway, sweeping her into his arms and hugging her tightly with his great, brawny arms until she couldn’t breathe. “I never thought to see you again,” she whispered. “I hoped maybe I would catch a glimpse of you in the Afterlife someday.”
He kissed her hungrily. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there in time to protect you. I did save as many of your villagers as I could from the Hykso.”
“And Tyema?”
“Rescuing her was the last thing I could do for you.”
She laid her head on his broad shoulder. “Tell me everything.”
“You can’t delay the time of judging.” Lady Ma’at’s reminder was delivered in a soft, apologetic voice. She indicated the golden scale with a graceful wave of her hand. “The heart must be weighed promptly. You know this, Lord Sobek.”
“He shouldn’t be here at all,” Thoth stated, scratching notes on his writing tablet. He whistled a few tuneless, discordant notes. “Most unusual.”
“I gave my permission.” The voice of Anubis was a husky growl. “Sobek has never requested a favor before and we all owe him much.”
Merys entwined her fingers with Bek’s and they walked forward to the inlaid table where the scales waited. A scrabbling sound in the corner of the room beyond the table drew her attention to the beast Ammit, busily chewing on a pile of bones. The sheer wrongness of Ammit—heavy crocodile head blending into the neck and chest of a powerful lioness, with the sturdy hindquarters of a hippopotamus—made Merys want to vomit. All the most dangerous and fearsome predators of Egypt embodied in one obscene creature, waiting to devour the unworthy. Ammit paced in the shadows, scuttled a bit closer as if sensing Merys’s fear, the claws on her feline front legs scrabbling on the floor, while the muscles in her stumpy hippopotamus hind legs bunched as she readied herself to spring.
Merys swayed and closed her eyes.
Bek braced her with his arm. “Ammit won’t have you, no chance of such a fate,” he whispered in her ear. She tried to smile for him, but her heart pounded with terror.
“Wait, wait,” Thoth cried shrilly.
Anubis tilted his sleek black jackal’s head toward the scribe, tufted ears perking. He snarled, showing gleaming teeth and drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. “What is the new delay?”
“There is a choice to be made this day, not merely a judging.” Thoth tilted his papyrus toward them so they could read his hieroglyphics, which glowed red on the page. Merys was too frightened to decipher the words. She heard footsteps approaching and turned to see who else was coming.
Isis emerged from the mists, regal, beautiful, terrible. Merys knew she was in the presence of a queen, one with power over all life and death. Isis wore a black sheath gown, trimmed in red and gold. Her red sash was tied in an elaborate knot below her breasts. In her hand she carried a golden ankh studded with rubies and on her head she wore a crown in the shape of her ebony throne.
Merys cringed against Bek, then tried to kneel to Isis, but Bek held her tight and shook his head. “You aren’t required to genuflect in the Chamber of Judging, not even to her.”
“And what if my knees give out on me?” she whispered.
He tightened his grip on her in silent reassurance.
“Welcome to the Chamber of Judging, my Queen,” Anubis intoned. He half rose from his chair and bowed to her. “To what do we owe this unusual honor?”
Isis eyed Merys, her unsmiling examination traveling slowly from head to toe. “Mortal, Sobek has interce
ded on your behalf. I have granted you a most unusual boon. You are to have a choice today.”
“I—I don’t understand.” Merys looked to Bek but no help was forthcoming. His jaw was set and a muscle twitched in his neck.
“We’ll assume your heart is true, as Sobek assures us, although Lady Ma’at will weigh it, as is her duty. You may then proceed into the Afterlife and dwell there for all time in peace and joy as promised by the Book of the Dead.” Isis gestured and the mists cleared to reveal a doorway on the left. Through the arch, an enticing vista of a gentle river winding amid green fields beckoned. Merys craned her neck a little, to see more of what waited across the threshold.
“Or—” Isis raised one hand, index finger pointing at Merys, “—you may choose to be reborn into the upper world, this time into a life of high station, great wealth, marriage, children and grandchildren.” Extending her arm, Isis indicated another open door beside the first, filled with misty golden light. “After many years and a fruitful life, you will return again to this chamber for judging.” Isis turned to Merys. “Which of my doors do you choose, mortal?”
Merys looked from one portal to the other. She frowned and gripped Bek’s hand more tightly. Her throat and chest were constricted with stress and fear. Attempting to swallow, she shook her head. I must speak somehow, tell her what I want above all things. This is my last chance. She’s so fearsome but I have to risk her anger. “What about Sobek? Can’t I choose to live with him in the realm of the Great Ones? I love him. He is what my heart desires.”
Isis clasped her hands behind her back, rolling her eyes and glancing at Sobek with a frown. She paced between the two open doors, mist swirling around her ankles. “It takes a very foolish mortal to try bargaining with me.”
“I do see the love in both their hearts,” Lady Ma’at interjected, her voice soft and musical. “It is true love, rare and pure.”
Priestess of the Nile Page 6