“Indeed, I’m sure you are.” He laughed as he opened the door to the corridor.
“Any other words of advice you’d offer me?” Tyema asked as they strolled into the main portion of the palace. “I’m not too proud to listen.”
Edekh shook his head. “I think your power lies in the answer you gave my queen, a few minutes ago in your chambers. You have authority directly from Sobek and require nothing else. Ah, here we are.”
Guards opened the doors and Edekh bowed, indicating for her to precede him.
The High Priest of Sobek was easy for Tyema to identify, dressed in layered raiment of white, gold and black, wearing a modified sun-disk headdress, all ten bony fingers adorned with golden rings set with chunky gemstones. He was flanked by five lower priests and a thin, nervous scribe sat close by to record orders. A much older man, the priest had a stern face, small eyes beneath bushy brows, flushed cheeks and thin lips. His wig was elaborately braided and he clutched a tall gilded staff topped with a representation of the god in his crocodile form. His pectoral was a depiction of Sobek as Crocodile, done in turquoise, coral and jet. It was eye catching, but nothing compared to the glory of her gold collar and emeralds.
“Lady Tyema, High Priestess of Sobek in the Ibis Nome,” Edekh intoned, thumping his staff on the floor as if she were royalty.
The under priests bowed but the Theban high priest merely nodded, his eyes fastened on the Tears of Sobek around Tyema’s neck. She suppressed a grin at his avaricious stare.
The door across the room, which only Pharaoh himself could use, opened and Nat-re-Akhte entered the chamber, saying as he crossed the gilded threshold, “No need to genuflect, this isn’t a formal audience.” Today he wore no crown but had the golden uraeus on his brow, held in place by a golden circlet. He carried the blue-and-gold crook and flail of his rank, ritually positioned across his chest.
She stood aside as Nat-re-Akhte walked past her to his chair, which was a golden marvel, depicting intricate scenes of himself with various gods that were far too detailed for Tyema to fully absorb in one glance. The chair rested on intricately carved lion paws, and was set on a slightly raised dais at the head of the gleaming wooden table. The ever present fan bearers took up station behind Pharaoh and Edekh walked to a place at his right hand.
“You may be seated,” Pharaoh said, placing the crook and flail on the table in front of him. “Which day is going to be the most propitious for this ceremony?” He gave Tyema a conspiratorial smile. “My zookeeper tells me the beast has already devoured all the fish in his pond and they’ve had to restock.”
“I’ve cast the omens, Great One, and the day after tomorrow is the ideal date for the new ruler of the bask to be presented to the people of Thebes and installed at our temple,” said the High Priest, displaying no hesitation.
Pharaoh nodded and Edekh made a note. Tyema sat back in her chair as the men discussed the arrangements for the procession. The city officials were also silent for the most part, apparently in the meeting to receive instructions, not to make suggestions. She had no opinion about the parade, the local Sobek priests knew their own city and how to organize things here. Perhaps she would have put the second troupe of dancing girls before the sacred image of Sobek, not after as they were going to do, but Tyema had no feeling it mattered to the Crocodile God, so she only nodded when Pharaoh courteously asked her opinion.
The high priest continued his rundown of the sequence of events. “And when we arrive at the temple, I’ll greet you with the hymn of the seventh hour—”
“After I’ve sung the hymn of the Abundant Nile,” Tyema said. She felt a tightening in her gut, sure now they would be in opposition. He’d rather I played no part in the day’s ceremonies. He probably wishes I’d just sent the crocodile with only old Hotepre for escort. Well, for that matter, so do I, but the Great One wanted it otherwise.
The older priest cleared his throat for a moment, blinking. Clearly he wasn’t used to being interrupted. “No need for you to exert yourself, I’m sure. It’s one of the older, less well known hymns after all. You can sing a brief blessing on the bask at the end of the ceremonies, if you wish. Now then, as I was saying—”
“The Great One Sobek particularly enjoys the ‘Abundant Nile’, since it praises his efforts to keep the life giving waters flowing freely,” Tyema said, cutting across his words, her voice clear. “As he is sending his crocodile to you, personally selected by him, we need to thank him appropriately.”
The men from the Theban temple gawked at her. Color becoming even hotter in his gaunt cheeks, the high priest blew out a breath. “My dear girl, we’re duly conscious of the honor the Great One does us here at Thebes. I merely see no need to slow the tempo of the ceremony with additional music. The crowd will naturally wish to see the crocodile installed in the pond as soon as possible.”
“As High Priestess, it’s my responsibility to conduct the crocodile to your temple and to make the official transfer in proper order,” she said, not at all abashed by his dismissive manner. When it came to anything regarding her duty to Sobek, Tyema felt as if some measure of his strength ran in her veins, and no condescending old man from Thebes could silence her. “I’ll sing ‘Abundant Nile,’ after which you can sing whatever you feel is most appropriate to accept the gift of Sobek and then we’ll proceed to the pond. Whether our audience is one person or ten thousand people, we must honor the Great One Sobek properly.”
“Well,” Pharaoh said, his voice solemn but his eyes twinkling, “The list of songs is decided then.”
“Duly noted,” Edekh assured him as the palace scribe by his side made rapid inscriptions on his tablet. The temple scribe shot a wary look at his superiors, but then scratched some notes as well.
There was an awkward moment of silence. Pharaoh raised his hand and gestured in a lazy circular motion at the priest. “Continue.”
The man opened and closed his mouth several times before swallowing a sip of wine from the clay goblet his under priest handed him. “Um, yes, um, at the pond, we’ll open the crate—”
“The child of Sobek doesn’t travel through Thebes in a crate,” Tyema interrupted.
“You’re not seriously proposing to have a dangerous Nile crocodile carried loose in the procession, are you?” the old man spluttered.
“Sobek has given me the gift of controlling his children of the Nile when circumstances warrant. I’ll ensure the animal remains calm during the parade through the city, docile until he’s installed in the pond,” Tyema said.
“I’ve seen this gift or power in action, exactly as the Lady Tyema indicates,” Pharaoh agreed.
“It would be most exciting,” said one of the younger priests, enthusiasm causing him to speak boldly, earning himself a glare from the High Priest. “Imagine the effect on the crowds, the crocodile on full display, yet posing no danger.”
“Sobek has selected a magnificent animal to rule over your bask,” Tyema said. “The beast has the rare purple underbelly. It can only benefit your temple to have the people of Thebes behold this marvelous creature, not have him hidden away in a crate.”
“Consequences will be on your head if this goes awry, if the beast causes injury,” the old priest said, his eyes flashing in anger. He bit his lip and glanced at Pharaoh, seeming to regret his outburst.
Tyema laid a hand on the collar, touching the emeralds. “Where’s your faith in Sobek, the god we both serve?”
“Any other concerns?” Pharaoh asked the high priest, his tone mild.
“No, Great One. I’m satisfied with the arrangements,” he said, sounding as if he was forcing the words out one by one.
“I’ll need to inspect the pond,” Tyema said, tapping her fingers on the table as she mentally reviewed her list of requirements. “I’m sure all your arrangements are in order, but I can’t bring Sobek’s gift to you with all the pomp and ceremony, only to find some problem in front of Pharaoh and the crowds.”
Now she thought the old priest was
going to have a full-on fit, especially as Pharaoh was nodding agreement with her. “Excellent forethought, Lady Tyema,” the ruler said. “Captain Sahure can conduct you and your crocodile keeper to the temple tomorrow morning, leaving the afternoon for any repairs or alterations to be made. On the appointed day, the palace will provide the usual beer, bread and meat for the afternoon feasting after the procession in honor of Sobek. Edekh will see to the distribution.” He rose, signaling the end of the meeting, and swept out of the chamber.
Edekh remained, moving closer to Tyema as the high priest came around the table at her. Shaking a finger in her face, the man talked so fast he was spitting. “There’s nothing wrong with my temple’s pond, girl, and I don’t appreciate your trying to embarrass me in front of Pharaoh by suggesting there is.”
The priest who’d agreed with Tyema before put a restraining hand on his elder’s arm. “I don’t think anyone took her words as carrying intent to insult, sir. The lady is being prudent, cautious with the Great One’s living gift to us.”
“Sobek gave me the responsibility for his crocodile and I don’t take it lightly,” Tyema said. “I can’t.”
“Some little nobody from the country, trying to make a place for herself here, no doubt,” the High Priest blustered on.
“I’ve no desire to live here in Thebes. Running my own temple and managing my own concerns keeps me fully engaged,” Tyema answered, her voice sharp. She leaned toward him. “I speak directly to the god, to learn his will and desire. Surely you do the same?”
The priest blinked, opened and closed his mouth like a floundering Nile perch, and sat down in the nearest chair, guided by his underling.
“Does he require some water? Or more wine perhaps?” Edekh asked, leaning on his gold-and-lapis staff.
“Either will be helpful, sir,” the younger priest answered. He nodded at Tyema. “Since we didn’t have time for introductions before Pharaoh arrived, allow me to tell you now I’m Lemertet, second in the hierarchy at the temple. I’ll ensure we’re ready for your visit in the morning.”
“Perhaps it would be best if we withdraw and let them confer,” Edekh said tactfully, taking Tyema by the elbow.
“Gentlemen.” Tyema nodded at them all and swept out of the room on the Chief Scribe’s arm, her head held high. A servant bringing wine passed them, heading toward the chamber.
“Your last arrow was a direct hit, I believe, Lady Tyema,” Edekh said in a low voice as they proceeded back to her suite of rooms. ”Well done.”
“He seems so out of tune with what the Great One prefers,” she said.
“Perhaps it’s been some time since the god spoke directly to him,” Edekh suggested tactfully.
“I hope my crocodile will be properly cared for here.” Doubt made her slow her steps and she almost turned, as if to reenter the room they’d just left.
“I’m sure he will be. The temple is well run by all accounts, if not one of the most prominent in Thebes. Lemertet is a strong second in command. He’s more than ready to step into the leadership position. Perhaps this series of events will precipitate such an outcome.”
“Are you saying the temple here is run by the internal politics of men rather than by what Sobek commands?” Tyema stopped walking, placing her hand on Edekh’s arm in her agitation.
The scribe was grave, no trace of amusement on his face. He patted her hand. “I think, Lady Tyema, few priests or priestesses are blessed to have as personal a relationship with their god as you do. In the absence of direct contact, men—and women—can only do what they think best.”
“I never thought about it,” she said. “I’m so used to the Great One telling me his will.”
Edekh leaned even closer, practically speaking into her ear. “Rest assured Pharaoh communicates constantly with the Great Ones. I myself have seen a number of the gods when in Nat-re-Akhte’s presence, including your Sobek on one memorable occasion. But the gods can’t be everywhere, can’t constantly be issuing orders to mankind. We must do our best.”
She nodded, satisfied and comforted by his response. They resumed their leisurely stroll to her quarters.
“What will you do with your afternoon?” Edekh asked.
“I need to check on the crocodile but beyond that, I’ve no idea. Play with my son perhaps.” Tyema shrugged. “It’s rare for me to have so much time with no duties or responsibilities. Is there anything I should be doing, for Pharaoh or the queen?”
Edekh shook his head. “I was going to suggest you might take the baby to Pharaoh’s zoo. Currently we have a good selection of animals. Captain Sahure sent us several shipments while he was in command at the Southern Oasis, once he took control of the place and drove the invaders out. The oasis fort is a crossroads for many caravans and an excellent location for acquiring rare goods. Having been on expeditions to the far lands himself, Sahure knows what animals are best suited to enhance Pharaoh’s collection and thus his prestige.”
Unable to stop herself, Tyema said, “Is Captain Sahure well thought of by Pharaoh?”
Although plainly curious, Edekh gave a neutral answer rather than ask any questions. “I believe he stands in high regard, yes. But if you’d rather have another escort—”
Tyema laughed. “Thank you, the arrangements are fine. Pharaoh offered me the same alteration yesterday. Sahure and I have things we need to discuss, but there shouldn’t be any problems. What about this evening? Pharaoh excused me from attendance at the banquet yesterday, but should I be somewhere this evening? I dread giving offense, even inadvertently.”
“There will be a small dinner for some of the courtiers.” Edekh patted her hand. “I should warn you, small is a relative term here in Thebes.”
She braced herself. “How many guests?”
“Perhaps a hundred. Captain Sahure is expected to escort you to the banquet chamber. Dinner will begin at sunset.”
“I’ll be ready then, but will he be back in time?” Tyema was comforted by the thought of the pretty dresses the queen had given her. She realized she didn’t want to walk around the palace and attend dinners dressed like a person the Thebans would view as a country maid.
“Sahure meets his commitments, never fear.”
***
Many hours later, Tyema could see the sun setting through the archway to the small private garden attached to her quarters. Sahure, prompt as always, was standing by the door to the suite, waiting for her to finish refreshing her eye makeup and kiss the baby goodbye. After giving Renebti a quick hug and some last minute instructions about Seknehure’s bath, Tyema found Sahure staring with longing at their son.“Did you want to hold the baby for a little while before we go?”
“We can’t be late. It’s quite a breach of etiquette to enter after Pharaoh.”
Tyema picked the baby up and handed him to Sahure, ignoring the faint discomfort from the lotus bracelet, signaling Sahure’s exposure to black magic. “Just for a moment. He needs to get to know you.”
“True. And we still have to discuss matters.” He cast a glance at the niece, as he dandled the baby. Pressing a kiss on the child’s forehead, he handed him to Renebti. “We must go.”
Tyema allowed Sahure to escort her out of the room and through the confusing halls of the palace. An awkward silence fell between them. Tyema felt her small store of confidence seeping away, the closer they got to the banquet hall.
To distract herself, Tyema studied Sahure in quick, sidelong glances, noting new lines around his eyes. “You seem tired.”
“I’ve had bad dreams since returning from Kharga,” he admitted, rubbing a hand over his face.
She touched a curious amulet on his wrist. “I’ve never seen this before, so unusual. You weren’t wearing the token yesterday, were you?”
There was an awkward pause, as if he was deciding how much he wanted to share with her. “Someone gave it to me, while I was in Kharga. She said I needed protection. I inferred at the time I only needed protection at the Southern Oasis, and indeed
when I drove my chariot into Thebes, the amulet came untied of its own accord. I barely kept it from being lost in the road.” Rubbing his forehead again, Sahure continued. “I put it on again this morning after a night of nightmares worse than any tale of the seven hells the scribes might write. I hope the amulet retains enough power to ward off whatever forces are building during the day to destroy my slumber.”
A woman. “Was she beautiful? Did she drive your chariot as well?” Tyema knew her voice was full of sarcasm, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. “Like I did? Do you routinely offer that treat to women you wish to bed?”
Sahure stopped in the middle of the hall, hands on his hips. “What does it matter to you? Why do you care? You rejected my proposal if you’ll recall. If I choose to take solace in the arms of a nomad beauty of the desert or the bed of a Theban lady, what business is it of yours?” His voice didn’t carry the force of anger, more a tone of curiosity.
Fearful of revealing too much of her intense feelings for him, Tyema retreated a step. “I’m sorry, you’re right, it’s none of my business.”
Footsteps sounded from ahead in the corridor. He took her elbow and urged her to start walking again as a servant bustled past them, carrying an armful of linens. “As it happens,” Sahure said as soon as the young servant had gone by, “I received this from the goddess Sekhmet herself.”
Shocked, Tyema stopped again. “What have you to do with Sekhmet?”
“Nothing, I would have said, other than the fact the people of Kharga claim to be descended from her. She appeared at the fort one evening, cloaked in disguise as the aged village headwoman till we were alone. She said her sister goddesses were engaged in combat on my behalf and she’d come to help me.” Sahure glanced sideways. “I have a feeling now, calculating the age of our child, it must have been the night Seknehure was born, although I don’t understand the reference to combat.”
I do. Combat with the black magic someone had sent to find me. Did the sorcerer also seek to kill Sahure? Or to influence him? Chewing her lip, Tyema considered the ramifications of Sekhmet’s involvement. Yet nothing in his story released her from Sobek’s orders to keep her mission a secret. And there were still faint flickers of the magic around Sahure, amulet or no amulet.
Magic of the Nile Page 17