Reflections in the Nile (28 page)

A few murmurs greeted this suggestion. Thut paced the front of the room, looking for all the world like a caged beast.

“Egypt will be ruined if they do not go!” a nobleman cried.

He was interrupted by a wealthy landowner. “What will we do without the Apiru, or the Israelites, or whoever this pitiful band is? We will have to return to ancient times, where we can build only during the Inundation and only with our own
rekkit.
It will once again take decades for temples to be repaired, for tombs to be built.” His outburst was applauded.

Menkh, Proclaimer of the Truths at On, spoke; his high-pitched voice was calm, but his words were disturbing. “This must be a god we are dealing with, and he is ridiculing our gods. First he strikes at Hapi, the god of the Nile. The lifeblood of Egypt becomes blood that robs life. Fish, one of our most important resources, are killed by the thousands. That in itself is enough to start a famine. We are bartering with a proud god.” He reseated himself in silence. A few people squirmed in their seats, uncomfortable with the thought of an angry, powerful, unknown god.

A Zarub businessman, Khabar, patting his enormous belly as he stood, endorsed killing all the troublemakers and then not worrying at all.

A smattering of applause greeted his words, but Thut frowned. “I will not have the death of a prophet or priest however insignificant on my hands. I will not murder for convenience. How do we know that this god, if he exists and has power here, will not send a more powerful plague as punishment?”

The group sat in silence, dividing into those who would keep the slaves and kill the leaders to avoid more plagues and those who would let them go in exchange for peace.

A familiar voice broke the silence. Chloe turned to see Lord Cheftu, lounging against the far wall. “Majesty,” he said, “if indeed these plagues are allowed to continue, they will wreak destruction. Thus far the Nile turning to blood poisoned and killed the fish. The lethal content in the water forced the frogs onto dry land. They have died and been left to rot, their carcasses germinating these flies.” He walked forward, his face dark against the many layers of his linen wrapping. “These flies will poison our livestock, killing a main source of meat and labor. If Egypt does not die, she will surely take generations to heal.” He turned to face the group. “Each of these curses has been worse than the last. How long will we wait before this land is utterly destroyed?”

Dead silence greeted him. Djer, a priest from Aiyut, spoke, a crafty expression on his long, weathered face. “Majesty, perhaps we can come to an agreement with these Israelites. Let us open our temples to them, throughout Egypt, for three days.”

Thut grunted.

“For three days they can offer sacrifices, dance, worship as they will,” Djer continued. “This way their request is met, yet we can keep our workforce. If need be, we can even gift them with stone utensils or some such.”

Thut chewed the corner of his lip. “I approve.” He looked over the group. “Egypt thanks you for your efforts. You are dismissed, except those within the priesthood.”

Chloe hid from Nesbek's speculative gaze by sliding onto a stool behind a large potted citrus. Cheftu was already gone. She sighed. He was as elusive as a fly swatter in this cursed land. As she pulled the linen closer around her face she felt the bites on her forehead and nose beginning to swell and itch.

The prince faced them. “The Israelites are waiting for me in the adjoining room. Be prepared to send couriers to your temples in preparation for usage of their sacred rooms.” He left, escorted by two soldiers at each side.

The second underpriest of Amun from Noph was spluttering with rancor as he sat next to Chloe. “My lady!” he erupted. “Will the Sisterhood allow such a sacrilege? It is unthinkable that some lowborn foreigner should be allowed in the presence of Amun! Ma'at will be ruined! This is unheard of! It is no wonder that Pharaoh does not allow her nephew the throne,” he whispered. “He has no decency, no respect. This is appalling.”

Chloe ran a weary hand over her face, gaining two additional bites on her hand for her trouble. “It is surprising,” she said.

“Will you allow this to transpire in HatHor's sacred complex?”

She shrugged. “If we do not, there will be no one left to worship. The people will perish, either from poison, disease, or starvation. We must decide which is the worst of the two evils. We are between a hungry Sobek and Set himself.”

He shook his head in reluctant agreement “We—”

He was cut off by Thut stalking back in. “The flies will leave,” Thut said. “But they refused to worship in our temples. They claimed the people would stone them, a valid point” He sighed heavily. “I have given them permission to go into the desert, but only a certain distance.”

One of the priests spoke up. “So Horus-in-the-Nest has been cowed by slaves?”

Chloe looked to the speaker in shock. Was he stupid? How did he dare to speak that way? Thut's face had reddened, but his expression was contrite.

The priest continued, “I am an old man and have seen many Inundations, so I can speak my mind freely. What if these other tribes within the Apiru seek to manipulate for their freedom this same way? Egypt could be left almost desolate! My Majesty Hatshepsut, living forever! will be displeased that you have negotiated with slaves.”

Thut's lips drew into a fine line. “My esteemed aunt desires peace above everything. She would rather have fewer slaves than have a curse laid upon the land every ten days. I am the one in power here. I have decided.” He turned on his heel, exiting.

The old priest followed him, his thin, failing body wrapped in cubits of linen, the leopard skin of his office draped over the whole ensemble. The group began to break up, priests dispersing to Lower Egypt's various temples.

Chloe slipped out beside a side column and noted with surprise that Ra was almost gone. The air was thick with buzzing, and she half ran to her apartments, the flies stinging through her linen wrappings. She was cursing with itchy frustration as she rounded the bend leading to her rooms. The guards who customarily watched every gateway were gone, and she got a few more bites as she glanced down and noticed her sandal was untied. I'll be inside in a matter of minutes, she thought hurriedly.

And promptly tripped. The tightly wrapped garments prevented her from catching herself in time, so she fell on her face. Chloe rolled over immediately, trying to avoid the fly-covered ground, trying to keep the nasty bugs out of her eyes. Swearing volubly, she got to her feet, testing ankles and arms to see that nothing was damaged. Then, frowning with gritted teeth, she turned around.

Nesbek stood before her, his rotund body wrapped in the rich red of which he was so fond. Chloe snarled, too angry to be afraid.

“My lady.”

She did not shout, but her scathing words cut. “I am not your lady. Get away from me, you son of a
kheft!
I do not know what secrets you hold over my head, but I am finished with you! Your presence is a stench in my nostrils! Your lifestyle repulses me almost as much as your appearance.” She smiled, enjoying the release after months of playing the simpering, ineffectual priestess. “Should you ever touch me or attempt to contact me again, I will see you impaled!”

His face purpled with emotion, and he raised a hand to strike her, “Aye, RaEm! You have returned to me!” Suddenly she didn't give a damn who saw her or what they thought of her actions. She threw off her robe.

Chloe deflected his wrist and circled him, ignoring the flies and the falling darkness. Her hands went up in a defensive posture as he leapt at her. She sidestepped neatly, and Nesbek fell hard on the fly-covered ground. He stood up, frowning slightly. “I like your new game, RaEm. Is the loser the victor in this one also?”

“What?” His words made no sense.

He turned back to her, and she saw with a vague degree of alarm that he now held a jewel-hilted dagger in his hand. “Big stakes, Lotus.”

She narrowed her focus. He rushed at her, dagger arm raised. She dodged the knife and stepped aside, grabbing his arm as she flipped him over her shoulder. He landed flat, the wind knocked from his lungs, his knife out of reach. She retrieved it while Nesbek lay panting for air.

“I will keep this,” she said. “If you ever come near me again, I will sink it into your…” Chloe trailed off but stared pointedly at Nesbek's kilt. “As for whatever you think you know about me, you will forget it. The RaEm you would have married is dead.”

His eyes bulged. “RaEm? What do you—”

“Our engagement is finished. Agree to this or I will go to the prince regent himself and share how you entertain. He is a sophisticated man, but decent, I think. I am certain he would be appalled at your tastes. I know Pharaoh would separate your head and shoulders for it.” She knelt beside him, holding the knife to his face, which was a sickly grayish yellow, his eyes dark reflective pools in the failing light With a poisonous smile she said, “Do we understand each other?”

N
ESBEK GRUNTED AGREEMENT
, afraid to move his head in case she decided to enact Hatshepsut's punishment for him right now. What had happened? Where was his adventurous, risqué fiancée? RaEm stood, tucked the dagger into the sash around her waist, picked up her cloak, and walked to her garden gate.

He lay on the ground, getting his breath back, confusion and anger surging through his veins. He felt a shadow and looked up to Lord Cheftu. The
hemu neter's
face was shadowed but his sibilant whisper was as easy to understand as the sword Cheftu held poised over Nesbek's privates.

Nesbek braced himself and felt the prickling of cold sweat break out across his body. He had been surprised by RaEm's behavior and more than a little aroused Perhaps it was another game?… They'd played with knives, flails, whips, and slaves, yet he couldn't imagine how this fit in. She sounded adamant. Was she teasing him? Priming him? Perhaps she didn't mean it.

Cheftu, however, was an excellent sportsman and had been RaEm's betrothed. Now he was her personal physician and from what Nesbek could see, was still attached to her.

“I believe our Lady RaEmhetepet has had enough of your attentions, my lord” Cheftu said quietly. “While I think the punishments she has suggested for your future are appropriate, I would
relish
delivering them myself.”

He crouched beside Nesbek, whose eyes were screwed shut in apprehension. Cheftu's cool hauteur was replaced with marrow-freezing venom. “If you so much as look in the lady's direction while you still draw breath, I will personally send you on a barque through the underworld.”

Nesbek recoiled from Cheftu. He wanted to reply but very much feared that would be Cheftu's excuse.

As if he could read Nesbek's mind, Cheftu spoke. “By the gods! I hope to see you creeping along this garden wall tonight, so I can leave your body for the flies.”

Nesbek's stomach roiled.

“Do you know what flies can do to a dead body? I doubt Osiris himself would welcome your stinking, infested flesh. How could you let your own betrothed be dumped by the road like refuse? What river scum are you?” Cheftu placed the knife at Nesbek's throat. “What have you to say for yourself?”

Nesbek swallowed, wincing as he felt the sharp blade slice his skin. He was getting hard.

“Speak, you river rat!”

“It was not my fault! The crowd, they were angry, disappointed. Too much to drink.”

“And?” Cheftu moved the knife to new skin. Nesbek felt icy sweat under his kilt, and his genuine fear of this powerful lord suddenly killed all passion.

“I got her away before the whipping began. I took her to your Israelite's village.” He winced as he felt more sticky blood trickle behind his ear. “I knew you would find her.”

Cheftu was motionless. “So you left her in the hopes of saving your own yellow-skinned neck? What if she had died?”

“I… I had someone watching to make sure she was found. I could not let it get out she had been with me. My sister would cut off—”

The golden lord chuckled, low and nasty. “Your bloodsucking allowance? Or that impotence that hangs between your legs?” Cheftu stood up, sniffing Nesbek's blood on the knife. “You stink of coward down to the drivel that runs through your veins. Get away from here and never approach RaEm again. If you do, I wonder how your sister will respond to the letter I will write?”

Nesbek sat up. “Please, my lord, RaEm is the only one who understands that I need to hurt… it's the only way—”

Cheftu kicked him lightly in the chest, holding him to the fly-covered ground with one sandaled foot. “The only release you get is from hurting others. I have heard this about you. RaEm is no longer interested. Find yourself another victim.”

He stepped on Nesbek, and for a second his full weight was on Nesbek's chest, a compression that felt too close to death. “You will return to me here before we see Ra crest the horizon. You will have all your miserable belongings and a reason for your departure that I can tell the prince. Or it will be the last sunrise you ever behold.”

Nesbek scrambled away, fearful and angry but relieved to still be alive.

Cheftu brushed flies away from his face and eyes and turned toward RaEm's apartments. He saw light glowing from within and wished he would be welcome, if for nothing more than a cup of wine and a game of
senet.
He would stay and watch for Nesbek all night. He didn't think Nesbek would hurt RaEm. He seemed to care for her in a weak, self-centered way that made Cheftu's stomach burn. However, in the event that he was wrong…

Drawing his linen cloak closer about him and waving away more flies, Cheftu sat on the ground, preparing for a long night. The moon rose, full and fat, its light lending a daytime brightness to the garden. Cheftu seated himself under one of the many sycamores and watched the climbing white flowers open and flood the air with their hauntingly sweet scent A night bird began singing, its notes climbing up and down the scale. After a while the flies didn't bother him.

Cheftu cleared his mind carefully, relaxing the different muscles in his body, conquering the distress that had him taut as a bow, wishing the fire in his stomach would subside. He was fighting sleep when he saw RaEm's light extinguished. The flies were fewer.