Magic of the Nile (15 page)

Caught in her hypnotic gaze, Sahure felt as if he’d drunk deep from a highly intoxicating vintage, although he’d only had one cup of ordinary, military-issue wine at dinner. The room was spinning around him. Blinking, he drew a deep breath to steady himself. “I don’t understand, my lady. Intervene in what? I mean no disrespect, but I’m sworn to Horus the Falcon and he’s given me no orders, requested no action on my part tonight.” His thoughts flew again to Tyema, never far from his mind, but she certainly had no connection to Sekhmet and would never be anywhere near combat.
Focus, fool, you’re dealing with one of the most dangerous of the Great Ones.

“I don’t speak of combat with sword and shield,” she said, revealing a glimpse of her impressive fangs, her voice almost a purr. “All things will become known to you in the proper time. Explanation tonight beyond what I’ve already revealed would be useless. There is no move in the game available to you right now.”

Sahure kept a frown off his face with supreme effort.
I’d like to be the judge of that.

But the goddess was still talking. “I acknowledge you’re not one of my children, but you saved my beloved village of Kharga from the nomads and the Hyksos.” Her tail lashed angrily at the mention of the enemy, thumping the hard-packed dirt floor and now she did growl, an ominous sound that sent a chill down Sahure’s spine. Sighing, she stood taller. “You rescued those who are my children, the people here. You honored my priestess, gave freely to my celebrations, showed proper deference.”

Realizing she seemed to expect him to say something, Sahure nodded. “It was my honor to be of service, Great One.”

 
“In return I’ll guard you while you’re here in this place.” She pointed her paw at him, one claw extended. “When you are once again in Thebes, it will be the task of others to watch over you, help you and those you love. Your task to protect Pharaoh.”

Why do the Great Ones love to speak in veiled terms?
Thoroughly frustrated, Sahure took the risk of standing up. “I’m sorry, Great One, but I don’t understand—”

She extended her golden-furred paw to him, palm up. A curious amulet lay in the middle, in the shape of a tiny hand no bigger than his thumbnail and made of crystalline stone, deep blue in color, with a cat’s eye depicted in the center delineated in yellow, purple, and black beads. The talisman was woven into a black leather wristband. “This is for you,” Sekhmet said. “Give me your wrist.”

He extended his arm and the goddess tied the cord around his wrist, skillfully using her claws in place of fingers. Sahure felt a wave of cold run up his arm from where the curious blue hand touched his pulse. The chill ran through his heart and for a moment he couldn’t breathe. He felt Sekhmet’s tail curling around his ankles.

“I deal in magic of all kinds, mortal.” Sekhmet moved closer, putting one paw on his chest. “Therefore I know how to guard against the most evil sorcery, when I choose to intervene.”

“I—I don’t traffic with magic,” he said, searching his mind for any time he’d even remotely been involved with sorcery and spells and coming up empty. The heady smell of her blue lotus perfume was making his vertigo worse, interfering with his concentration on her words. “I’m a simple soldier, loyal to my Pharaoh.”

She nodded, patting his cheek with her massive paw, claws sheathed, before stepping away. “I know this. So I’ve given you a shield.”

He touched the amulet with his fingertips. “Why do I need to be shielded?”

“All things will be revealed in due time. You must promise you’ll wear my amulet, perhaps even in Thebes.” She smiled, the effect strange on the face of a lioness. “Horus won’t mind.”

“I give you my word.” What else could he say, when facing the goddess herself?

Sekhmet nodded. “And now we’re done.”

There was a crash of thunder almost directly overhead and a flash of lightning so bright Sahure was blinded. As he blinked his watering eyes and stared around his office, there was no sign of either Sekhmet or the elderly headwoman. The door was closed tight and he’d not heard it open. Quickly he walked to fling open the portal, practically running into Menkheperr, bearing a wineskin and juggling some mugs.
 

“Did you see her?” Sahure asked, sticking his head into the hall and checking in both directions. “Did you pass her in the corridor?”

“Pass who?” Menkheperr walked into the room and glanced around curiously. “Your guest left already? Quick visit. What did she want?”

After one more lingering glance down the empty hall, Sahure closed the door. “I’m not sure,” he answered. “But I’ll definitely have some wine.”
And then I’m writing another letter to Tyema, damn it, whether or not she ever deigns to reply.

*****

Tyema always knew when Sobek wanted to speak with her. There would be a faint whispering of her name into her left ear, as if the syllables were carried on the breeze. After awhile her head would start to ache and lightning would flash in her vision, and she knew she must seek the god out. Today was one of those days, so she hurried down the cliff to his private beach below the temple as soon as the headache started, after the noon hour. They rarely met in the sanctuary in the heart of the costly new temple. Sobek preferred the open air, next to the Nile. Sometimes she wondered how it went at other temples dedicated to this god, since he didn’t appear to enjoy being cooped up inside.

Or maybe it’s just the relationship we have because he’s married to my sister, and they met on this very beach.

Arriving on the sandy expanse, Tyema ignored the lingering Nile crocodiles. She took a deep breath, straightened her spine and sang one of the oldest songs she knew, one Merys said their great grandmother had taught her. Sobek always said he especially enjoyed the lilting melody. She loved singing on the shore of the Nile, letting her voice expand and fly over the water. Sure enough, as she finished the last verse, there was a flash of green light and Sobek came striding down the beach toward her, taking his fully human form.

Her headache faded and the lightning flashes in her vision had been consumed by the light of his arrival. Tyema took a deep breath in relief.

He always appeared to her as a man, dressed like a wealthy noble, although she’d also seen him as half shifted, between forms, wearing his crown and plumes on the head of a crocodile. Never as the Crocodile, although she’d seen the damage he could wreak, as well as the aftermath of his anger.

Tyema sank to her knees in the cooling sand, arms crossed over her chest. “I’m honored to be in your presence today, Great One.”

He extended one hand, palm up. “This will always be my favorite temple, and you my most beloved priestess, after Merys herself. The song was lovely. No one else knows the oldest verses but you and your sister. The tablets and papyri on which they were written have long crumbled to dust, I fear.”

Placing her hand in his, Tyema rose to her feet. “If I have daughters someday I’ll teach the song to them, I promise, my lord.”

“Walk with me.” He tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow.

They strolled along the beach, the huge black and gray crocodiles hissing a greeting as they slid out of the god’s path. Sobek nodded and the creatures slid into the Nile, one by one, swimming away in formation.

Wondering what had brought the god to seek her out today, Tyema kept her silence. Sobek would tell her when he was ready. She realized they were walking to the breeding pens on the far side of the temple.

Sure enough, a few minutes later she stood in front of the enclosed pond. All the crocodiles, large and small, came crowding to the fence, crawling over one another to be close to their lord and master. Sobek extended his hand in a silent blessing for a moment, after which the group disbanded, reverting suddenly to normal crocodile behavior, sunbathing in the fading light, drifting in the water, dining on the chickens and other offerings Tyema’s staff provided daily.

Only one crocodile remained, the young bull named “Pharaoh” by the keepers. He basked in the sun directly in front of Tyema, as if displaying himself for the god. He had the extremely rare purple belly found occasionally on Nile crocodiles and all the confidence of a ruler.

“You’ll have to take him to Thebes,” Sobek said.

Sure she hadn’t heard him correctly, she did a double take. “I’m sorry, Great One, to Thebes?”

“Yes, I require you to convey this fine fellow to my temple in Thebes in two weeks’ time, so he can take charge of the float there. The bull crocodile ensconced in Thebes is dying after many long years of adoration. I’ve told my High Priest and Pharaoh you’ll be sailing shortly, to bring my Chosen One. He’ll sire many clutches of eggs over the coming years.”

“But why must
I
accompany him? I have an excellent staff of keepers—” Even though she was in the presence of the god, Tyema felt panic clawing at her throat. Her chest grew tight as she tried to think about all the details such a journey would entail.
What if Sahure has been reassigned to Thebes? What if he’s taken a wife?
“I—I can’t leave my baby—”

Human face set in kindly lines, Sobek’s glittering yellow crocodilian eyes were sharp, predatory. “Take the child with you. You forget I have a half-human son; I understand what a child needs and at this age, your baby needs only you.” His face crinkled with good humor. “Babies are portable. Even my crocodiles carry their young on their backs.”

Her knees were threatening to buckle. Fortunately Sobek took her hand a moment later and they walked to a nearby bench, under a towering palm beside a small ornamental pond filled with fat fish. He made Tyema sit before he waded into the pond, plucking a blue lotus and bringing the entire stalk to the bench. As she watched in fascination, he picked apart the stem and leaves of the plant, industriously braiding the fibers into a bracelet, with the deep blue flower like a gem set into the top. Eyes on his work, the god said, “You don’t
have
to go, Tyema. It will be as you choose. Merys has explained to me something of the challenges you face going among the people, leaving this temple. Although I confess I can’t understand the problem, knowing you’re always under my protection.”
 

Although her throat felt choked, she managed to say, “I desire to do my duty to you, Great One. I owe you so much—”

“We don’t have debts and payment between us, little sister.” Sobek’s voice was kind, warm. “Perhaps you need to hear why I wish you to undertake the journey, before you decide?”

Heart pounding, half terrified at the idea of a Great One explaining his reasons for the unusual request to a mortal, high priestess or not, Tyema nodded.

Sobek admired his half finished handiwork before glancing at her. “The situation is this. Pharaoh Nat-re-Akhte has ruled for nearly twenty years now and has brought peace to Egypt. He threw the Usurper off the throne, drove the Hyksos and their evil god out of Egypt, has kept them at bay ever since. Agreed?”

She nodded, throat too parched to speak. Concentrating on his words helped her alleviate the formless terror assaulting her at the idea of a journey up the Nile.
Maybe if I understand the stakes, the reasons, I can conquer the fear.
She clenched one hand into a fist, nails digging into her palm, the small pain helping her concentrate on the god’s words rather than her dizziness.

Tugging at the fibers he was braiding, to make the weave tight, Sobek continued. “The Hyksos haven’t given up. They roam just outside Egypt’s borders, still make raids from time to time, try to build alliances with other nations jealous of Egypt’s wealth and power. The Hyksos god Qemteshub desires to destroy Osiris, my king, in the world inhabited by the gods. The battle rages on.”

“But Nat-re-Akhte holds Egypt,” Tyema said, not quite voicing a question.

Sobek nodded. “He’s been an excellent champion, for the gods and for your people.”

Struck by a new thought, Tyema felt a chill sweep over her, despite the hot sun. “Is he— is he voyaging to the Afterlife soon?”

“A shrewd question, my little priestess.” Sobek was approving. “Such is not his destiny, not yet. And his son, the crown prince, will be a strong ruler when his time arrives. Egypt should remain secure. You know one of my major duties is to protect Pharaoh from black magic?”

“Yes.” The assignment had always
seemed odd to her, given his nature, given his primary concern being care of the Nile. But then Pharaoh is the heart and
ka
of Egypt, just as the Nile is the life giver. So who but a fierce, immortal warrior to defend him from sorcerers?

“Ever since Nat-re-Akhte deposed the Usurper, the primary source of black magic in Thebes was removed. There have always been little hints and touches of sorcery. One cannot clean the world of negative magical influence entirely, but nothing threatening Pharaoh himself.” Sobek frowned and his golden eyes glowed. “In the past two years, the small trickles of black magic have strengthened, become more cohesive. They swirl around Pharaoh, yet so far don’t seem to be directed at him. This is where you come in.”

She remembered the night of Seknehure’s birth and what had been said to her by the Great Ones, although at the time she’d hardly listened, being in the throes of labor. “Did Hathor tell you there was black magic striving to harm my son and me, the night he was born?”

Sobek frowned. “She did, although I don’t understand what reason there could be, any more than I understand the patterns of black magic weaving a tapestry in Thebes at present.” He gazed across the crocodile pond. “I tried to get the goddess Nephthys interested in exploring the problem as she’s so good at schemes and plots, but she’s too grand for my concerns, wouldn’t listen, much less get involved. And I
cannot
act unless there’s a direct threat to Pharaoh.” He clenched one fist, the hand going scaled and clawed for a moment with his sheer frustration. “The other Great Ones tend to think as she does, saying I see a problem where none exists, but I remain worried. Sometimes a pattern only becomes clear in the instant before catastrophe strikes.”