Imhotep (24 page)

“I
remember that,” another said.  “It was hot that day.”

“Not
that hot,” the first man answered.

“Hot
enough,” the other countered.

There
was a murmuring along the row as the other boatmen began to recall the death.

“Aren’t
the embalmers under Thoth,” Dagi asked Karem, “not Ma’at?”

Karem
thought for a moment.  “Or Anubis,” he answered.

“Anubis
doesn’t have a temple here,” Dagi said.

“I
don’t know,” Karem said.

“Either
way,” Dagi said, “it isn’t Ma’at. Ma’at doesn’t have embalmers.”

Karem
looked at his friend.

“We
need to watch Brian,” Dagi said.  “I don’t trust Djefi.  He sent him
into the desert with Siamun and now he’s being friendly?  And an embalmer
is stopping to talk to him?”

“I’m
not on the same boat,” Karem said.

Dagi
nodded.  “That’s strange, too.  You should be.  I think Djefi
moved you to a different boat because Brian saved your little Kiya.”

Karem
nodded, then he said, “I don’t understand.”

“Djefi
knows Brian saved Kiya, so he knows that you’ll help Brian in return,
see?  So he separates you.  But there’s no reason for him to do that
unless he’s planning something.”

Karem
shook his head.  “Look, I don’t like Djefi either, but I think you’re
still angry because  . . . ” he left the sentence unfinished.

Dagi
looked at his friend.  “Keep an eye on Brian.  I’ll do the same.”

P
ahket had explained the idea of ma’at to
Brian, both the ideal and the goddess who represented it, so he was prepared to
follow the enactment of the weighing of the heart.  He wasn’t prepared for
Tama, the woman who was high priestess for the goddess Ma’at.

Tama
had been high priestess of Ma’at for most of her thirty-one years.  She
had entered temple life as a child, given up by her family to live with the
aged woman who was high priestess of Ma’at at the time.  Chosen for her
beauty and intelligence, Tama had been trained to observe the truth, to see
past appearances and to accept what she saw, whether she agreed with it or not.

That
vision of the world granted her a serenity that was reflected in her calm
features.

The
influence of the nearby Temple of Thoth and Waja-Hur’s constant reminder that
balance was important had played a part in her life, too.  She interpreted
balance as a middle path to be followed in all things: diet, exercise, speech,
study, sleep, even worship of the gods.

Brian
didn’t see all this when she emerged from the darkness to play her part in the
ritual re-enactment of the weighing of the king’s heart. 

He saw
a supremely confident woman, whose assurance was reflected in her strong,
melodic voice.  He saw a radiantly beautiful woman, whose diet and
exercise kept her body remarkably fit and strong, even for a culture in which
hard work was a daily part of life.  He saw a woman whose flashing eyes
and ready smile revealed an intelligence and acceptance that drew admirers.

The
ceremony passed, but he saw only Tama.  At some point a bent old man was
led to her, accompanied by a boy carrying a large scale.  The man carried
papyrus and ink to record the results of the weighing of the heart.  But
all Brian saw was Tama, stepping forward and extending her hand to welcome and
help the old man.

A king
appeared, escorted by a woman wearing the long horns of a cow.  The king
said, “I have done ma’at,” repeating the phrase three times.  Brian heard
only the delicate rustle of Tama’s sheer robe as she bent to take the king’s
heart from the golden bowl he carried.

As
Brian watched the ritual, Pahket stole anxious glances at him.  She saw
where his eyes were directed, she saw him mouth the words that Tama spoke and
she knew that this god had found his heart’s desire.

From
the shadows of the amphitheater, Nimaasted also watched.  He saw the naked
hunger in Brian’s face as he watched Tama and Nimaasted knew how he would lure
Brian away from the safety of the boat.

B
rian was surprised by his attraction to
Tama.

He
returned to the boat in silence.  Pahket gave up talking to him the third
time he responded to her by saying “uh-huh.”

He
thought about Diane and her refusal to go anywhere with him, ever again. 
He knew that he hadn’t approached her correctly, angered by her obvious
irritation toward him.  He wondered if Tim was also here in Khmunu and how
he would find him.

But
mostly he thought of Tama.

Part
of him wanted to get to know her better, to see if she could possibly be
everything he imagined.  Part of him knew that was impossible.  He
wanted to carry the memory of what he had seen and imagined with him forever,
but he wanted to test that memory against reality so he wouldn’t be living in a
fantasy world.

He
fell asleep, whispering her name to himself over and over again, like a
schoolboy.

He
woke to the smiling face of Nimaasted hovering over him.

“Tama,”
Nimaasted said gently, as if reading Brian’s mind.  He held the white
ostrich feather in his hand.  “The priestess wishes to see you.”

“What? 
Why?” Brian woke slowly.

Nimaasted
shrugged. 

“You
can ask her.  Come, do not keep her waiting.”

He
stood and extended his hand to Brian.

Around
them the boatmen slept, some snoring, others moaning and turning on the rough
wooden deck.  Pahket, having left Brian to himself when they reached the
boat, was sleeping under the canopy in the stern, a spot she and Brian usually
shared.

Brian
quietly followed Nimaasted from the boat, both of them unaware that one of the
boatmen was watching.

Dagi
waited until Brian and Nimaasted were halfway up the sloping bank before he
rose and crept across the deck.  He slid quietly into the water so that he
wouldn’t present a silhouette against the night sky if someone were watching.

Once
on land, he jogged cautiously up the slope.  Brian and Nimaasted were just
cresting the small incline.  Dagi watched them enter the town. 
Quickly he followed.

D
agi expected Siamun to be lurking in the
shadows to attack Brian, completing the unfinished business from the
desert.  Although he was afraid of Siamun, Dagi’s hatred for Djefi ran
deep enough to overcome his fear of Djefi’s thug. 

He
didn’t know Brian, but he knew that Brian had saved Yunet’s uncle from a slow
death in the desert and that he had saved his best friend’s daughter from the
jaws of a crocodile.

And so
he followed Brian and Nimaasted, angry and fearful at the same time.  He
tried to stay far enough behind them that they wouldn’t hear his footsteps, but
close enough that he could follow whatever turns they made and get to Brian in
time to help him, if he needed help.

He
thought he saw them slow their pace after a few blocks and so he flattened
himself behind a tree in case they turned to look back up the street.  The
sound of muffled footsteps emerged from the alley just beyond the tree where he
was.

He
waited for two heartbeats, and then peeked around the tree.  Three men
were walking quickly and silently toward Nimaasted and Brian.  Dagi
started walking as fast as he could while staying quiet.  As he passed the
next intersection, he saw a fist-sized stone on the ground.  Stooping, he
picked it up.

The
three men were less than a block away from Brian when they broke into a run,
still trying to be quiet.

Dagi
started to run and shouted out a warning at the same time.

Brian
stopped and looked back toward the shout.  He saw three men running at
him.  One of the attackers, looking over his own shoulder, saw Dagi
running toward them.  He turned toward the boatman.

Although
his attention was drawn to the men who were running up the street, Brian stayed
mindful of Nimaasted.  When he saw the priest reach under his robe, Brian
leaned quickly into him and pushed against his chest, hooking his foot behind
Nimaasted’s ankle.  He saw a flash of a knife blade as the priest fell
backward drawing his hand from out of his robe to catch his fall.

Brian
turned to the other three men.  He saw that one of them had turned and was
running away from Brian toward the man who had called out a warning.  He
couldn’t see the man’s face, but from the size of his muscled shoulders, Brian
guessed it was one of the boatmen.

Before
he thought it through, Brian began running toward the two attackers who had
continued toward him.  He knew that he could outrun them and escape, but
he couldn’t leave the boatman behind to face the attackers after he had risked
his own safety to warn Brian.

He
guessed that they would have knives, but he had his speed, his size and his
strength. 

The
two men slowed as they saw him come toward them.  Brian didn’t
hesitate.  He picked the man on his right and charged into him as hard as
he could, lowering his shoulder as if barreling into a catcher at home plate.

He
felt a sharp pain in his side, but heard the man gasp as his lungs emptied from
the collision. Brian felt the crunch of bone as his shoulder slammed into the
man’s ribs.

He
kept running past the fallen man and headed for the third attacker who was
circling the boatman, a knife in his hand.  As the attacker turned his
head at the sound of Brian’s approaching footsteps, the boatman saw his
opportunity and swung a muscled arm at the man’s head. 

Although
the assailant tried to turn away from the blow, Brian heard the rock in the
boatman’s hand crack against the attacker’s head.  The man staggered and
looked up, blood streaming down his face, just as Brian ran past him, his
strong right arm outstretched to clothes-line him.  He caught the man’s
exposed neck with his forearm, knocking him off his feet.

The
attacker flew backwards and hit the ground hard, gurgling as he collapsed,
clutching his throat.

The
boatman shouted “Get down!” and Brian dropped to his hands and knees as Dagi
threw the rock past him.  The third assailant was only a few steps away,
his knife raised overhead as he charged at Brian.  He dodged the rock,
swerving quickly to his right away from Brian.

The
change in direction gave Brian time to come out of his crouch.  He squared
off to face the assailant who had regained his balance and was just a few feet
away, crouching to attack.  Dagi picked up the knife from the fallen man
and stepped up beside Brian.  The attacker looked from the knife in Dagi’s
hand to the sheer size of Brian.  He turned and ran.

Brian
looked up the street to where Nimaasted had fallen and saw that the priest also
had disappeared into the night.  The man whose ribs Brian had cracked was
on his feet, limping away from them.

Dagi
knelt by the other man, whose face was turning white as he gasped and held his
battered throat.

“Who
sent you?” Dagi asked.

The
man shook his head, his eyes wide as he struggled to breathe.

“Djefi?”

The
man looked confused by the name.

Brian
heard a noise and looked up the street.  He thought he saw movement in the
doorway of one of the homes.  When he looked back down he saw Dagi drawing
his knife across the man’s throat.

“No!”
he shouted, but it was too late.

Dagi
stood, leaving the knife on the ground.

“He
tried to kill you,” Dagi said.  He pointed to Brian’s side where a slow
stream of blood fell from a cut near his hip.

“You
can’t come back to the boat,” Dagi said.  “I know that Djefi is behind
this, even if that dung beetle wasn’t hired by him.”

Brian
was thinking the same thing.  Hearing noise from up the street now, he
drew Dagi into the alley.  “Go back to the boat.  Protect Diane,” he
said.

Dagi
nodded and turned to leave.

Brian
reached out a huge hand and gripped the boatman’s scarred shoulder. 
“Thank you.  You saved my life,” he said.

Dagi
gripped Brian’s strong arm and they looked in each other’s eyes.  Then the
boatman turned and, staying in the shadows, ran toward the river.

Brian
watched him until he was out of sight.  Then he looked down at the pain in
his side.  The wound was a slice, just across his hipbone on his right
side.

He
took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly through his nose.

Nimaasted
would come back with more guards.  The attacker who had run away would
return, angry and determined.  Brian didn’t know anyone in Khmunu, he was
injured and, if Dagi was right, Djefi was trying to have him killed.

Everyone
he knew was either on Djefi’s boats or back at To-She.

Except
Tim.