Reflections in the Nile

by J. Suzanne Frank

  Would she ever see him again?

  She sank to the floor, reaching for her necklace. But it was gone, broken into pieces and smashed on the audience chamber floor by the soldiers. Oh, Cheftu! she thought. Please forgive me! Because of her, he was going to be banished. To leave forever this land he loved so well and to which he had just returned. Why hadn't Thut defended him? Because to admit Cheftu had sworn fealty to him would probably have gotten them both killed. Chloe buried her head in her hands, letting the tears come.

  CHAPTER 13

  Cheftu laid down the brush with which he had been committing his staff and his holdings to Count Makab. He would be shocked at the turn of events. Makab was not wise with money, but he was just and would see the slaves emancipated and awarded a fee for their loyalty.

  Sun streaked through the open garden door. The light cut through a pitcher of wine next to Cheftu, honeycombing the room in a prism of red. Like blood, Cheftu thought dully.

  The slight body of an Egyptian woman had been delivered to him that morning. In exchange for his wife, the guard explained. Her face was covered, but her appearance had jarred Cheftu. He'd met ReShera only a few times, that he was aware of—the woman hadn't seemed to care for him. The corpse had worn a silver ankh with ReShera's name, so it must be she, but he was confused. Without Chloe's green eyes, one black-haired, brown-skinned woman looked much like another. Cheftu and Ehuru had taken her to the local House of the Dead to see that she was buried properly.

  Thut had done his job well, killing her quickly and letting her blood drain. Rejoicing that it was not Chloe, Cheftu had covered her lean figure with a linen robe. At least not Chloe yet.

  RaEm. Chloe. He felt tears in his throat. What he felt was so much more than love. She was the woman he trusted, the woman he respected, the woman formed from his own ka. Who was now the gods only knew where.

  He turned back to his letter. He must gather their belongings and book passage, then he must find Chloe and rescue her.

  Ehuru entered the room. “My lord, you have a visitor.” Cheftu looked at him. Ehuru had aged overnight. Company was Cheftu's last desire, but it was necessary. He gave a ghost of a smile. “Show him in.”

  Lord Makab entered the room, his linen gleaming white, but his face drawn and gaunt. Cheftu got to his feet, extending both arms.

  Makab embraced him. “My friend, life, health, prosperity.”

  “To yourself also. Please, be seated. Have you eaten?”

  “I have no desire to….” Makab's voice was low. “How is my sister, Cheftu? What matter of dark magic is this?” Ehuru appeared in the doorway, and Cheftu requested wine and whatever food could be found.

  “You know, then?”

  Makab sank into a chair. “Know what?”

  “How is it that you are here?” Cheftu asked, trying to ease his friend's feelings.

  “I received a missive that RaEm was going to marry Thut, so I began to travel. First our horses died on the way to the river. We had to walk for several days. I lost several good retainers to a hailstorm of fire—I confess I have never seen the like! We were living off the land when locusts descended. They clogged the streams and ate all the greenery. We survived by eating them. Then we reached the river, only a few days’ journey, but this blackness descended and the people were terrified. We had a mutiny and lost most of the crew and the captain. We just arrived. Out of an entourage of twenty, only six of us are left.” He sighed, accepting wine from Ehuru. “The torments on the Shores of Night could be no worse.”

  “Did you come directly to me?”

  “Aye, my good friend. I knew you had been assigned to look after…” His words stopped. “To look after her when she was banished here. I thought she was going to marry Nesbek, but then she is going to marry Thut. … I do not know what is happening here.”

  “She married me.”

  Makab laughed. “She despises you!”

  Cheftu grinned as he crooked an eyebrow. “As I did her.”

  Makab rubbed his face hard, then downed the rest of his wine and handed the cup to Ehuru for a refill. “How?”

  Cheftu sighed. “It would take days and a lot more wine to explain. Suffice it to say she is a captive of the state, I have less than a week to leave Egypt and never return, and the worst plague of all is about to strike.”

  Makab's expression was murderous. “Captive of the state? A hereditary prince banished? Plagues? Explain, Cheftu. Give me facts in quick succession. Why is she a captive?”

  “She accidentally sent another priestess in her place for a ritual at the temple. The other girl was killed, as a sacrifice.”

  “A sacrifice? A human sacrifice? That is a barbarian rituall We Egyptians haven't practiced such since Chaos!”

  “The sun has risen every day, without fail, since Chaos. It did not these past few days.”

  Makab looked away. “Agreed.” He peered over his cup at Cheftu. “So she substituted someone else?”

  “Aye. So it seems.”

  “You sound unsure.”

  Cheftu scratched his chest. “I am. Something is not adding up. Hat's judgment was too quick. She is pharaoh, but she is acting without the proper religious authorities. She even let soldiers strip RaEm of her priestess authority.”

  “Mere soldiers? Only a high priest can take away religious authority. While Hapuseneb may have turned over a lot of the priesthood to Pharaoh, living forever!, I am sure that he alone holds that power still!”

  “Indeed,” Cheftu mused. “It is not adding up.”

  Makab drained another cup of wine. “What is this about your being banished? Surely it is not true?”

  “Aye.” He handed Makab the letter he had sealed a few moments before. “I have written asking you to take care of my servants and holdings.”

  Makab looked at him. “Has Hatshepsut, living forever! gone mad? She cannot banish you! You have inherited your position for generations, as have I! What is her reasoning?”

  Cheftu dropped his gaze. How to explain to this paragon of ancient Egyptian stability that he was an impostor and had been for fifteen years? That his sister was in reality a woman from the future who could handle a bow and ride a horse bare-back?

  Makab watched, realization dawning on his face. “This is about RaEm's ka, is it not?”

  “That is a simple way of looking at it, but accurate.”

  “She did not understand about the ritual, and that is why the other priestess died, correct?”

  “Aye, that is truth enough.”

  Makab got to his feet and walked to the garden window. “I knew something was incomplete in her when I saw her at karnak. Never have I seen eyes so green. They were the eyes of a stranger, and we were as alien to her as she was to us. How did this happen?”

  Cheftu ran a hand through his hair. “It is something about the Silver Chamber of HatHor. I do not yet know. She does not deserve to die for such an error, though that is hardly something I can tell Pharaoh.”

  Makab turned back to him. “How is it that you know these things, Cheftu? How could she trust you?”

  Cheftu rose to his full height and stared at Makab. “Did you know me as a boy?”

  “Aye. We were all w'rer -priests, doing our time in the temple as oldest sons until we were called home to tend to our families.”

  “Aye.”

  Makab continued to look at him, his dark eyes narrowed with concentration. Minutes passed, then he suddenly took a step back. “Who are you?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “You were a sickly boy. You could not run fast, or hunt. You had difficulty reading. Now you are as fast as a cat, a hunter and a scholar who memorized the scrolls in the temple within a few days of reading them.” Makab took a deep breath, frowning. “One time you were found on the floor of HatHor's room. You were sick for days.” His hand slipped to the amulet on his wrist. “What are you?”

  “I am your friend, Cheftu. But”—he paused—“I was also a young man with a brilliant future, and a
loving family, who had come to Egypt to decipher the hieroglyphs.” Cheftu sighed as he watched fear accumulate in his friend's face. He sat down again. Haft extended, he offered his dagger to Makab. “If I am a kheft to you, my friend, then kill me. Without Chloe I have little desire to live anyway. Or you can wait. I am the firstborn, so I will not have long to live.” He grinned ruefully.

  Makab took the dagger and looked at his friend.

  Cheftu watched him, his gaze carefully bland. With a casual movement he reached up and tore the throat of his linen shirt, revealing the brown, hairless chest of a nobleman. “Do it, or join me to help Chloe survive.”

  “Her name is Klo-e?” Makab stumbled over the syllables, never looking away.

  “Aye.”

  “You are from the same … ?” Makab left the question hanging.

  “Nay. She is from another country, many years ahead of my time.”

  “Will you take her back?”

  Cheftu sighed, dropping his hands from his shirt. “I do not know how. I do not know if it is possible. However, unless she escapes the Sisterhood, and soon, there will be no more Chloe, and no more RaEm.”

  Makab stuck the dagger in his belt and seated himself across from Cheftu. “Do you know where she is being kept?”

  “Will you help me?”

  Makab's brown stare met his. “Aye, my friend. I will help you return to your own worlds, if you so desire. We must make our plans.”

  Cheftu sighed and grabbed Makab's hand. He felt a slight hesitation, and then his grip was returned. “I will tell you what I know.”

  THUT FELL ONTO HIS COUCH, his head still ringing with Hat's recriminations and threats. She was returning to Waset but would be back on the next ship once she checked the progress on Senmut's projects and established herself as the savior who had returned Ra's light to the world.

  Hat had left RaEm with him. The Sisterhood was sending a representative to escort her out to the western desert, where, if she was lucky, she would die immediately. Like the poor girl I killed, Thut thought miserably. For no purpose. While my seed was just taking root inside her, the blood of her virginity still on my body. For no purpose. All that was needed was a word from Moshe to his god, and life and light returned.

  So Moshe was the uncle he'd heard of only in whispers. The one his father had vowed to continue to hunt—to no avail. At midnight some night, the firstborn sons would die. A whole generation of men. Thut closed his eyes, eager to be rid of the thoughts that tormented his mind. Now he and every other thinking Egyptian watched the sun set in panic, wondering if it would fail to rise again. Wondering if this would be the night of death.

  Or bring destruction as this darkness had. In three days more than a fifth of the city had been killed, mostly in fear. Old men stabbing into the darkness, killing their family members and neighbors. Young women, trying to protect their children, frightened of the darkness and unable to feed them. Families committing suicide because they believed Amun-Ra dead. He ran a weary hand over his face. The streets were running with blood. The air was filled with the mourning cries of those consumed with guilt. They had killed in terror, ignorant of whom they struck.

  Granted, he could punish the people—the Apiru, the Israelites: beat them, enslave them further, even kill them. Then what price would their jealous god extract? If only I could take these consequences on myself, Thut thought. Protect those who serve and love the throne and the gods.

  However, a god did not compete with a man. Thut knew now they were dealing with a god. There was no doubt he was powerful; apparently his people didn't know his name, calling him Elohim, “their God.” Wasn't the sun god Amun-Ra called the “Hidden One”? Two unknowable deities were fighting each other over the land of Egypt. Apparently Amun-Ra had other things to do and was paying little attention. Thutmosis dared not even think the god was incapacitated or dead. He forced himself to sit up and planted both feet on the floor.

  Then there was Cheftu, his newest lord, whose heart had filled his eyes as he'd watched RaEm dragged from the room. Even now Hat's Kushite guards watched RaEm's cell. Lord Cheftu had not endangered Thut by entreating him to intervene. That was a debt Thutmosis would honor someday.

  Thut stood; he had not seen his wives or children in what seemed to be weeks. The children whom even tonight he might lose. Fear added speed to his feet, and the prince regent was almost running by the time he reached his harem doors.

  THE DARKNESS GATHERED AROUND THEM, Cheftu, Makab, Meneptah, and Commander Ameni, who owed Cheftu his life after a battle in Kush. Cheftu's hand was slick with sweat as he touched the hilt of his dagger. Tonight he would kill if need be, and there would be no absolution, no forgiveness, because he intended it. Just pray God it would restore Chloe to him. His Egyptian heritage was a small loss compared to losing her.

  The moon was waxing; it would be full tomorrow. Meneptah warned them tomorrow would be the night of death. He had described how to protect themselves, and Cheftu was disappointed that neither Makab nor Ameni had paid the close attention they should. Still they did not believe.

  These dark musings would do no good tonight. Tonight—when it was his responsibility to see these men delivered safely to their homes before dawn, when the alarm would sound and he and Chloe would be on a swift ship to the Great Green. He had gold, jewels, food, and clothing. Already he had forwarded a wealth of spices. They would always be financially secure.

  Quietly they slipped through the foliage, meeting in the shade of the great abandoned temple. AnkhemNesrt had crept into his garden last night and told him of overhearing RaEm's guards in the temple. She drew a map of the interior and marked several possibilities for underground chambers and rooms. Cheftu memorized it instantly and prayed it was accurate.

  The moon outlined everything in black and silver. Echoes of the remaining priestesses resounded from inside the building. There was no sign of any guards. He knew Hat was expecting his response and would be prepared. Not being able to see her preparations made his stomach churn; but there was no choice. He crept forward.

  They wore no sandals, preferring to step silently through the stone chambers. Cheftu ducked back as they entered a cross-passage and he saw the distinctive features of a Kushite guard. Several torches flamed around him, and his sword was unsheathed. Light shone off his ebony skin, darker by contrast to the white of his kilt and leather collar. He also wore a knife in his shinguard, another blade on the outside of his upper arm, and a quiver around his chest. The corresponding bow lay on a table behind him.

  Cheftu swore silently. The man was as armed as a thief. What could they do? He felt pressure on his arm and looked around. Ameni stood behind him, weighing a small dagger in his hand, trying to get the right balance. It was a one-shot try. Cheftu faded into the shadows. Ameni's aim was true, and the luckless guard sank to his knees before falling on his chest and pushing the dagger in farther.

  They waited a few endless seconds. The guard's fall had been silent, but Cheftu was paranoid. Advancing like vultures, they found the guard dead and relieved him of his weaponry. He had been stationed before a branching hallway, one passage leading into a trapdoor, the other winding off through the night. It was not in AnkhemNesrt's map. They split up, Cheftu and Meneptah, Makab and Ameni.

  As they crept down the ladder from the trapdoor, Cheftu fought the urge to send Meneptah away. He could die tonight, and it would be another death on Cheftu's head. His thoughts froze as he heard quiet, furtive steps coming up behind him. He jumped off the ladder and twisted to face his opponent. He gasped as he felt the outstretched blade cut into the guard's abdomen but knew nothing else as he wrestled the Kushite, closing off his breath and releasing him only when he felt the body go limp. He checked the pulse: not dead. After a moment's indecision he beckoned Meneptah, and they raced, fleet-footed, down the sloping hallway.

  CHLOE STIRRED AWAKE, hearing something beyond the sounds of rats, her stomach growling, and the snore of her guard in the other cube. She shifted, the pu
ll of her restraint waking him up. He grunted at her and settled down again. It was quite a devious arrangement, Chloe thought. She was in a small inner chamber and leashed by her ankles to a guard in the outer chamber, with a door between them. Every move she made, he felt—and usually woke up. She sighed deeply. If anyone looked in, it appeared to be just a solitary cell with one inhabitant—the guard—and looked no further. Certainly not through a seemingly solid wall with only a wedge cut in the bottom for her bindings. She stared at the wall as the sounds came again, metal clashing with metal. Her guard drew to his feet and opened the door to the hallway. She heard his cry and felt the forward motion of his body as he inadvertently pulled her forward by her ankle leash, slamming her into the wall. She called out feebly for Cheftu… and slipped into darkness.

  THE MAN WAS DEAD, THE ROOM EMPTY, no other doors. Ameni looked at the carnage, the bloodstained walls, the decapitated and maimed bodies of those who had only been doing their job. He felt slightly sick. Meneptah was losing his dinner to the ground, and Cheftu was so full of despair, he could barely stand. Ameni kicked in the body and closed the door. Wearily he led the group up and out into the breaking dawn…. Their mission had failed.

  CHEFTU STARTED AT THE KNOCK, fearing it might be Hat, but then he reasoned she would break down the door, not knock. He was relieved when Ehuru came in, Meneptah trailing behind him. Meneptah said nothing but joined Cheftu at the table, staring at the thin bread and wine that was available. Cheftu looked away. The ship had sailed without them. Chloe was lost, somewhere in the depths of that cursed temple, and Thut had received a representative of the Sisterhood a half decan before. Grains of sand dropped through an hourglass in his mind. For the love of God, there had to be a solution!

  “Will you join us, my lord?” Meneptah asked when Cheftu returned to the present. “We could use your skills, and this would provide a way for you to leave the country. No more boats are leaving the dock; it is a royal decree.”