Close Up the Sky

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Close Up the Sky Page 29

by James L. Ferrell


  The pharaoh finally looked up. "Are you aware of the battle I fought with the sea people many years ago in the desert near the eastern sea?" he asked Taylor.

  "I have read an account of the battle, my lord," she replied. "It is said that you won a great victory there."

  Ramses laughed and shook his head. "So it would appear from the version written by my scribes. But the truth is quite different. Not only was it not a great victory, it was a complete defeat for the Egyptian Division, the pride of the Egyptian army." He held out his arm and showed them a scar on his forearm. "One of the weapons used by the sea people did this."

  Taylor, who had seen the scar before, looked at the king’s arm and said, "Surely a wound as terrible as this was made by a mighty foe, my lord."

  Ramses grew impatient. He leaned forward and said, "Enough of this indirect talk. It is time for truth, Taylor. If you wish my help you must also help me. This wound was made by something that rode a column of fire across the sky. It appeared to be a flaming arrow of enormous size. When it struck the ground in front of my army the land shook with thunder. We were blinded by a light as bright as the sun, and a mighty wind knocked my soldiers and horses to the ground. My own chariot was overturned, and a piece of flying metal tore the flesh of my arm. But in spite of all this, very few of us were killed. It was as though the hand of a god had smitten us, but not to kill, only to warn. Since that time we have feared that those who wield such power might eventually destroy Egypt. We believe they are the sea people, and for that reason no one has dared to offend them. Now you are here seeking the very man who may be one of them.”

  When Taylor heard the description of the flaming arrow she felt faint. She turned and looked at Summerhour with rising suspicion. He knitted his brows and shook his head, warning her not to raise the issue in front of Ramses. A dark look came over her face and she started to speak. “I think…”

  "There is more," Ramses interrupted her. "Before the great arrow came, another mystery occurred. Chariots with whirling wings that carried men in their bellies roared over our heads and spewed red beams into the sand in front of my army. Dust flew up from the desert wherever those beams struck the sand. As one of the flying chariots came close to the ground, a courageous soldier ran forward and attempted to shoot it with his bow. The beams pouring from the chariot struck him, tearing his body to pieces." He paused for a few seconds. "In addition to these things, there are some caravan masters who speak of huge ships that lie in the sea to the south of Babylon, but they are unlike any ships that have ever been seen before. They also tell of giant metal domes that dot the desert. It was from that direction that the arrow came. Tell me what you know of these things, Taylor. Were they sent by your god to punish us for attempting to reach the eastern sea and destroy the sea people?"

  Taylor dropped her head, trying to think. Something that she did not want to believe was forming in her mind. After a moment she looked up and answered the king. "I am not certain that I can explain them, my lord. But I do know that our god was not responsible for what happened to your army."

  Summerhour sensed danger. Taylor was struggling to think of a plausible answer to Ramses’s question, and he feared that if she did not respond correctly the whole story might come out. He stepped forward and said, "May I speak, Your Majesty?"

  Ramses regarded him with an icy stare. He was about to respond to the request when a gong sounded. A soldier entered the room and knelt before him. He spoke a few words that were inaudible to Taylor and the others. The pharaoh shot a narrow-eyed look at them while the soldier was speaking. When he finished, Ramses spoke a few words to him. He rose, struck his breast in salute, and departed. Nefertari, who had heard what the soldier said, leaned close to Ramses and whispered something in his ear. She looked at Taylor and smiled.

  Taylor felt her heart flutter.

  Ramses leaned forward on his throne. “It seems that the city guards have captured a man believed to be a Trojan spy. Our judge attempted to learn his true identity but apparently failed to do so. He has asked me to look into the matter. I am having the man brought before me now." He looked at Summerhour and said, "You wished to speak?”

  "Yes, Your Majesty," Summerhour responded. He turned and said something to Taylor and Williams in a low voice; then, stepping to the foot of the dais, he addressed Ramses. "First, I wish Pharaoh to know that we mean no harm to Egypt or its people. Our mission here is to find the green stone that you gave to the man in black clothing. After that we will depart from your land if you wish. Second, the great arrow sent to stop your army was indeed sent by our people. It was not meant to kill, only to deter you from reaching the base of those you call the sea people. You have seen the mountains quake and the desert rumble before our power. But as mighty as these things are, they are nothing compared to the forces that might be unleashed if we do not recover the stone and return it to our own land. If you will aid us in our search for this man and recovery of the stone, I swear to you that we will do all that is within our power to protect Egypt and its people from harm. As proof that I speak the truth, behold!" Simultaneously he and Williams pulled the robes over their heads and threw them to the floor, revealing the L-suits.

  The king's knuckles turned white as he gripped the arms of his throne. In one swift motion the guards along the wall burst into defensive postures. Four of them rushed to the foot of the dais and leveled their spears at the three foreigners.

  "Hold!" Ramses shouted as he and Nefertari jumped to their feet.

  Summerhour stood his ground, but his scalp tingled with fear as the guards lifted their spears to strike. He knew their weapons could not penetrate the L-suit, but his head was unprotected. He held up both hands, palms forward. "I did not intend to startle you, my lord," he assured Ramses. “Please forgive me for causing alarm.”

  "Return to your posts!" Ramses ordered the guards. They lowered their spears and reluctantly moved away from their king. Ramses remained standing.

  Summerhour did not move until the guards had resumed their former positions. "If I may continue?" he asked.

  Ramses nodded.

  Summerhour turned to Taylor and spoke a few words in English. She bent over slightly and placed her fingers over her face. When she straightened, the brown contact lenses were gone, revealing the full power of her brilliant green eyes.

  Nefertari gasped and placed a hand over her chest. Both she and the king stood staring at Taylor for what seemed an interminable time, then Ramses took Nefertari by the hand and they stepped off the dais. They stood directly in front of Taylor, seemingly mesmerized by her metamorphosis. When Ramses spoke, it was with a new respect for the woman who had written his history.

  "You have the eyes of Amen," he said in a subdued voice. "They are the same as the fiery stone you seek." He continued to gaze at her, trying to perceive if the goddess of beauty, Hathor, lay hidden beneath her human exterior.

  "Will you give us the help we seek?" Taylor asked. For effect she dropped the title of ‘my lord’ and spoke as an equal. Both she and the king knew they had arrived at a critical juncture.

  "How can I deny you?" he replied, his voice strangely soft. "But tell me, Taylor. Are you human, or are you Hathor who has assumed an earthly form?"

  Taylor struggled with the truth but knew she could not tell him who she really was. Ramses was a man of great wisdom who ruled over the most powerful nation on Earth, but he was as incapable of understanding the concept of time travel as the Neanderthals had been of understanding the moon and stars they saw in the night sky. For that reason she formulated the only answer she could. It was not the complete truth, but it would have to serve in its place. She drew her shoulders back and raised her chin as she spoke. Never had she looked more beautiful or regal.

  "To the people of your time I am a goddess, Ramses. I possess powers beyond the scope of your imagination, and have seen wonders beside which the Great Pyramids of Egypt pale to insignificance. I am the daughter of a mighty race of people who rule th
e entire world beyond the western sea. Our influence reaches from where the sun god makes his bed, to the land where he brings forth the dawn of each new day. In my world the spires of our cities touch the heavens, and men have walked on the face of the moon. We share the air with the birds, and the secrets of the oceans are revealed at our command. As my companion has told you, it was our brothers who called forth the flaming arrow that stopped your army. But as you have perceived, it was not to kill, only to keep you away from the place you went to destroy. Yet with all the great power at our disposal, we cannot find the one called Edward Leahy and the Eye of Amen without your help."

  Ramses was astonished at her revelation. The goddess-woman who stood before him was far more than he had ever suspected. He looked at the others with new eyes, then said to Taylor, "Ask anything you wish, and it will be done; command, and it shall be so. But I will ask one thing in return for my aid. You must guarantee that Thebes and the rest of Egypt will be safe from attack by your people for a thousand years."

  Taylor felt empathy for the king. Before answering she thought of how this great man’s body looked in its mummified state thousands of years in the future. Even in death, he possessed a majesty that enthralled everyone who looked upon his countenance. The powerful magnetism that made him the esteemed ruler of Egypt would not fade with the millennia.

  "It shall be as you ask," she vowed. "You will govern Egypt for many years to come, and your successors will rule after you until the Kingdom of the Two Lands is worn away by the wind and sand." Taylor spoke from her heart, knowing that history assured the truth of her promise.

  Ramses nodded, satisfied with her answer. Nefertari, the greatest queen Egypt would ever know, looked at Taylor and felt her affection turn into gentle love. She reached out and took her hand. A feeling of warmth and understanding that bridged the centuries passed between the two women.

  The gong sounded again. The guard who had spoken with the king returned and bowed before him. "The prisoner awaits your judgment, great one."

  "Bring him," Ramses commanded.

  Taylor felt butterflies in her chest.

  Everyone focused their attention on the door through which the guard had departed. Within a few seconds he returned with a disheveled and dirty Matt Leahy, hands tied behind his back.

  Taylor's heart leapt and she stifled a scream when she saw him. He was still wearing the L-suit, but the boots were missing. In their place he wore the sandals that were part of his contemporary disguise. His face was red and blistered, and dry blood encrusted his nostrils. There was a cut on his lower lip, and the flesh beneath his left eye was bruised from a blow received while fighting Memhotep's guards. She rushed to him and threw her arms around him.

  "What have they done to you?" she cried in English. Tears welled up in her eyes as she gently kissed his cheek. "I knew you weren't dead; I knew it! What happened to you? Where have you been?" Her hands moved soothingly over his face and hair. Williams and Summerhour had also gone to him and were checking him over.

  "It's a long story, but I'm okay," he responded with a sheepish grin. "It looks worse than it is. In fact, I feel better right now than I have for days. But these ropes are starting to chafe a little."

  Taylor whirled on the guard, her tenderness turned to rage. "Release him immediately!" she commanded.

  The guard stepped back and looked at Ramses, who nodded. As he cut the cords from Matt’s wrists, Nefertari moved to Taylor’s side and spoke affectionately to her. “It appears the man we were searching for has been found."

  Later, after Nefertari's personal physician had applied balm to Matt's face, and Taylor was satisfied that he was not seriously injured, they continued their audience with the pharaoh.

  "The man you seek, the one you call Edward Leahy, was placed aboard a barge bound for Ipu,” Ramses told them. "The Eye of Amen was given to him as he boarded the ship. My soldiers have instructions that he is to be protected from harm and placed in the care of a caravan master bound for Babylon. They carry my decree that the caravan is to divert from its destination and deliver him to his people at a place as near to the sea as possible.”

  "I think we passed that barge on our way here," Taylor said to Summerhour. "It was just after we embarked from the village. There was a man tied to the mast, but his head was down and I was unable to see his face clearly. It must have been Edward. By now they've reached Ipu and are preparing to cross the desert to the Red Sea."

  "I remember that barge," Summerhour confessed. "Damn! We were that close!"

  "Where's Ipu?" Matt asked.

  Taylor took his hand and squeezed it. For the first time in days she felt happy. "It's a small city less than a hundred miles north of here," she said in English, "The Egyptians have a mine there and a fairly extensive temple. There’s desert to the east, then the Red Sea. The caravan will have to cross what we know as Saudi Arabia, eventually reaching the junction of the Euphrates and Tigris Rivers. From there they'll make their way south until they're in the vicinity of the place the Egyptians call the village of the sea people. I don't know what that is, but I'm beginning to have some suspicions." She shot a narrow-eyed glance at Summerhour.

  Matt also gave him a quizzical look. "I know what it is," he said.

  Summerhour met his gaze without flinching.

  Taylor was shocked. "You know what it is?"

  "Yes, but this isn't the time or place to explain. I'll tell you everything as soon as we're out of here."

  "What is this language?" Ramses demanded. Even though he now saw Taylor and her companions in a different light, he was still Pharaoh of Egypt and he demanded the respect due his status.

  "It is the language of my people, great one," Taylor responded. She reverted to using one of Ramses's many titles in an effort to appease him. She had told him of her great power, but here in his court, away from modern support, her boast was nothing more than words. She and the others were still completely subject to his authority. "My companion is not fluent in your language," she offered.

  The answer seemed to satisfy Ramses. "Very well. Let us move forward. We have struck a bargain, Taylor, and I will rely on your promise. What do you require of me?"

  "Transport by your swiftest ship to Ipu, and from there, a caravan to follow the one that took Edward Leahy to the sea. We will also require provisions for the trip."

  "There's one other thing," Matt put in.

  Taylor seemed surprised. "What is it?"

  Matt looked at Ramses and spoke in the best Egyptian he could manage. "Three innocent men are being detained in the prison where I was held, Your Majesty. One of them is called Setari. He can identify the other two. They have been falsely accused of stealing from one of your officials. I know this charge is untrue. I would consider it a great personal favor if you would look into their cases.”

  “How do you know they are innocent?” Ramses asked.

  "I am innocent, yet I was imprisoned on the word of a desert brigand. I am a court official in my own land, and have dealt with many criminals. After hearing their story, I tell you without reservation that I believe these men are innocent of the crime for which they were imprisoned. They are only guilty of having something of value that someone else with power desired. It is a story as old as the world."

  Ramses nodded. "Just so. I, too, have seen this kind of corruption. I will look into the matter. You may rest assured that it will be taken care of, and the guilty party punished."

  Taylor squeezed Matt’s hand and looked at him with open admiration. “You’re okay, Matt Leahy,” she whispered in English. “Even if I wasn’t already extremely prejudiced I’d still say so. After all you’ve been through, you don’t forget your friends.”

  Ramses smiled. He did not understand the language, but he understood Taylor’s expression. "I will assign Balkem, my most trusted general, to the details of your voyage,” he said. “Go and gather whatever personal possessions you may have and return here by midnight. The ship and provisions will be ready by
then. A detachment of my personal guard will accompany you, and will remain with you at all times. I will not risk your safety by allowing you to leave the palace without an escort."

  They turned to leave, but Ramses stopped them. "Before you go, Taylor." He took her hand and pressed the St. Christopher medal into it. He spoke gently, almost fatherly. "I always knew you were something more than what you appeared to be. I know that I may not see you again, but I shall never forget you."

  Taylor closed her fingers around the medal and placed her other hand over the old scar on Ramses's forearm. They exchanged smiles, each understanding the other. No further words were required. She and the others bowed at the waist as they departed, and in recognition of their status, Ramses returned the gesture with a bow of his own.

  When they were out of the palace Matt gave them a summary of what had occurred after they were separated by the sandstorm, including the ordeal with the Morruks and his trial before Memhotep. During his struggle with the guards, he had seen Nessif steal the pistol magazines and pager off Memhotep's bench and slip away through the outer room. "I believe Nessif followed me through the desert and then along the riverbank to Thebes,” he told them. “A couple of times during the voyage here I thought I saw a man pacing our boat just inside the tree line. He'll probably try to go back the same way he came. Rats always work that way."

  "He must be one hell of a good runner," Williams observed.

  "You wouldn't believe how good," Matt responded. “We need to get to the docks before he gets away.”

  “The pistol is bad enough," Summerhour said, "but it's imperative that we get the pager back. Even if he can’t use it in the conventional way, there’s a possibility it could be accidentally activated if he tries to disassemble it." He turned and spoke to the commander of their escort. "It is urgent that we go to the docks immediately," he said. "Something has been stolen from this man, and there is a possibility that the thief may still be in the vicinity."

 

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