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Authors: Suzanne Weyn

BOOK: Reincarnation
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He was sure he had seen those flinty eyes before. He remembered them clearly -- they had

been filled with contempt, just as they were now. He felt that the Egyptian had to be correct

-- they had fought each other.

And yet... it was impossible.

He was an archer but had elected not to join the other archers on the shielded roof of a

high building. Instead he'd stayed on the ground, firing from behind a tree. They'd thought

he was brave, taking the first line of defense. They didn't know his terrible secret.

He was terrified of high places, always certain he would fall to his death.

It shamed him but there was no overcoming it. It was a terrible, overwhelming fear that he'd

had since babyhood.

When it became clear that they were losing the battle, the other archers began to flee from

the rooftop. Noticing activity on the roof, he'd looked up to see what was happening. That

was when a spear had hit him at the base of his throat. When he awoke, he was in a pen

with other soldiers. There was a bandage over his wound and he slowly discovered that he

could no longer speak.

33

"Answer me!" the Egyptian barked.

Taharaq could only shake his head.

The Egyptian raised his arm angrily to strike.

"He cannot answer," the young Nubian behind him interjected urgently in Egyptian. It was Taharaq's brother Aken. "He was hit in the throat."

Taharaq winced, squinting into the sun. His right temple throbbed with the sudden onset of

the fierce, searing headaches he'd suffered ever since he was a child. He'd been given every

sort of potion and herb, to no avail.

His mother had taken him to a priestess who pushed away the black curls at his forehead,

revealing a straight, reddish-purple birthmark. "This is the cause," she'd said, tapping her finger on the birthmark. "I know not the cure, but the gods of The Other World are telling

me this is the cause of the boy's pain."

Tetisheri checked her image in the highly polished brass plate hanging on the wall. With the

tip of her hennaed red fingernail, she smoothed a smudge in the black kohl liner rimming

her brown eyes and plumped her shining black hair. She had lived through fifteen full cycles

of the night sky and in the last several cycles she had learned all the beauty secrets of

womanhood. She hoped they would all work in her favor in the next moments; so much

depended on everything going well now.

34

She made eye contact with the harpist who played out in the courtyard. With a nearly

imperceptible nod, the harpist indicated that Tetisheri should come forward.

Gliding gracefully out, Tetisheri struck a pose.

The rays of Amun-Ra, the sun god, shot brilliantly through her crisply pleated, white linen

tunic, highlighting the transparency of the fine cloth, marking it as top quality. It wouldn't

hurt that the sun god's fire would outline her figure to good effect as well.

The golden band wrapped around her straight, thick, black hair grew warm against her

forehead.

She smiled coyly at her audience. Across from her, the nobleman Nakht, his wife, Renenutet,

and their exquisitely dressed guests sat at tables by an inlaid pool with white lotus flowers

floating languidly on its shimmering crystal waters. They were merchants, politicians, and

dignitaries. One of the guests was an immensely fat woman who had a pet alligator on a

leash. Tetisheri hoped she'd fed it well before arriving.

She waited for the harpist to hit a particular, prearranged note before breaking her statue-

like pose and beginning her song. It was a popular tune that recounted how the goddess

Isis frantically searched for her murdered husband, the god Osiris, in the afterworld, never

losing faith in their love for each other, even in death.

The song challenged her vocal ability with its ever-mounting intensity, requiring her to

strain to the top of her range, but it would show off her voice well. It was important

35

that Nakht be made proud in front of his guests, so it would be clear he could afford to

employ a top-quality singer and dancer in his household. Her job depended on it.

Living in her small room in Nakht's lavish estate with its murals, golden mosaics, and

imported glass windows was so much more than she could have hoped for as a wife down

in the village. Up until this chance arose, being a wife had been the only future she could

look forward to, and it had always struck her as a living death of dullness. But since the day

Renenutet had heard her singing in her father's shop and asked to hire her as the household

entertainer, her life had changed dramatically. This life was more than she had ever dreamed

of.

A sidelong glance revealed that her audience was watching with rapt interest. Good. This

evening was crucial. If the guests responded well to her, Nakht and Renenutet would give

her a permanent position in the household.

She continued with the song of Isis and Osiris, reaching out dramatically, warbling with the

anguish she imagined Isis must have felt when she was told that the god Set had murdered

Osiris.

Pulling back her shoulders, her arms raised, Tetisheri strained for the song's often elusive

high note. Her voice quivered, cracking slightly. She pushed harder for the note. The

shakiness left her. She hadn't failed entirely. As she majestically lowered her arms, she

thought she saw appreciative nods.

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Tetisheri began swaying her hips. The miniature bells on her ankle bracelets jingled when

she kicked her right foot forward and hopped backward onto her left. Raising her arms into

the air again, she hoped the thick golden cobra bracelet wrapped around her upper arm

would flash with dramatic effect.

As she turned in a circle, re-enacting Isis becoming a falcon in order to better search for her

beloved, she felt the animal-sense tingle of a gaze upon her. Cutting her eyes to the

doorway, she glanced toward the young man standing there.

His striped headpiece with its highly polished golden cobra shaded his face but she

recognized him just the same. She had grown up with Ramose in the town, but she hadn't

seen him for some time. He had grown strikingly handsome since the last time they had

spoken, and she'd heard he'd been made a Captain of the Guard in the army. The golden fly

that hung from his neck was a mark of valor in battle.

Nakht stood and raised his hand to the harpist to stop playing. Tetisheri stopped as well,

stepping back beside the harpist, her head bowed.

Nakht beckoned for Ramose to approach, and he stepped forward. "Ramses the Second

thanks Nakht for supporting his successful campaign to suppress the Nubian rebellion and

for raising funds for the building of the great temple at Abu Simpel," Ramose said in a

formal, official tone. "In gratitude, he sends you this Nubian slave captured in recent battle."

37

Another Egyptian soldier dragged out a man with skin the color of blackest ebony. A wide,

blood-spattered, white bandage crossed his throat. His hands were bound with cord and his

legs were shackled, but still his eyes blazed defiantly.

Tetisheri stared at the man, horrified -- and began to shriek, screaming in blind terror. He

had come to kill her. She was sure of it.

Trembling, she clutched the harp, toppling it, as she crashed to the courtyard floor.

Nerfi, the household servant assigned to tend to Tetisheri, mopped the singer's sweaty brow

as she lay on her sleeping pallet, unconscious but breathing heavily.

She'd be all right. Nerfi crossed the room and studied herself in the polished metal plate on

the wall. With a quick tug, she adjusted the straight, bright red wig she wore over her

shaved head. It was cooler and more attractive than her own hair, which she'd have liked to

be black and straight but was, instead, a dull red with curls that bent at odd angles. The wig

was highly preferable. She liked the bright redness, anyway. It made her stand out.

Above them was a mural of Isis protecting her baby son Horus from the rival god Set by

hiding him in the reeds of the Nile. Nerfi's eyes wandered up to the mural and she sighed.

No wonder people were treacherous and untrustworthy.

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Even the gods quarreled, murdered one another, and plotted revenge. How could people be

any different?

But what had this Nubian slave ever done to Tetisheri to warrant such a reaction? How was

it possible that she even knew him? Nerfi had been pouring beer from a large jug when the

commotion began. She hadn't even noticed the Nubian until Tetisheri screamed.

Now the young woman stirred and then bolted up to a sitting position, searching the room

wildly. "Where is he? Is he gone?"

"They took him away," Nerfi assured her. "Why are you so scared? Haven't you ever seen a Nubian before? There are a lot of them in the police force these days. They come north for a

better life up here in Luxor."

"It's not that he's Nubian. It's him, himself." Closing her eyes, Tetisheri shuddered. "He terrifies me."

Renenutet entered the room and stared sternly at Tetisheri. "Good. You're awake. My

husband is displeased with that display. You have upset him greatly. He wants you to leave

at once."

"She thought that slave was a spirit, come up from the world of dead beings, sent by Anubis

the dog-headed god himself," Nerfi rushed to her defense, improvising the best story she

could think of. "Anyone would be frightened."

Tetisheri opened her mouth to protest but Nerfi pinched her hand and she shut it again,

taking the hint.

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"This is no reason to be troubled," Renenutet told Tetisheri, obviously believing Nerfi's excuse. "The Book of the Dead clearly tells us that the underworld is a place where our lives are judged and evaluated so that we may begin again in another life. That is why our tombs

are so well prepared, so that we can have the things we need for the perilous journey to our

next life. Tetisheri, you need not fear the underworld."

"But it's still frightening. It's a life in
another
world, isn't it?" Nerfi insisted.

"If you are found worthy you will go directly to the next world. If not, you may have to

return to this one to acquire further enlightenment."

"You come back from the dead?" Nerfi inquired, puzzled by this.

"You are born again as a baby into a new body. Most of the time you are born into the body

of a family member. That is why babies sometimes look like a grandmother or grandfather

or a deceased uncle or aunt," Renenutet explained confidently.

"I'd better get enlightened here and now because I don't want to be some messy baby

again. I'm done with that!" Nerfi laughed.

A servant came into the room and spoke to Renenutet in low tones. At his words, the

woman gasped, tears springing to her eyes. Quickly, she dashed from the room along with

the servant.

40

"I'd better go find out what's happened," Nerfi said, hurrying behind them.

When she was alone, Tetisheri sat on the bed looking up at the mural of Isis and her son,

the falcon god Horus. Of all the gods and goddesses, Tetisheri had always loved Isis the

most. Even as a child she'd loved to gaze at pictures of her on walls and pillars, sure that the

beautiful goddess cared about her, that she had a special place in her great heart for

Tetisheri. Somehow she was sure Isis would understand how she felt. She was a mother,

after all. She would take pity on Tetisheri.

Closing her eyes, she spoke quietly. "Mother Isis, help me, for I am so scared. I am sure the Nubian slave means me harm." These words made her voice catch. "He will kill me. I know

he will."

It made no sense, yet she knew -- was absolutely certain -- that he would take her life. And

she didn't care what Renenutet thought or what anyone else thought -- she did not want to

go to another world or another life. She wanted this life and no other. "Does that make me

evil, Isis? Is it wrong to love the life you have -- to cling to it ?"

Stretching out on her pallet, she shut her eyes. Although she had not intended to sleep, she

drifted into a dream. The Nubian slave was with her on a ledge, high up. His hand clutched

her roughly behind her neck. Suddenly a green

41

sphere appeared in a black sky, spinning between them. He abruptly let go of her, reaching

out for the sphere. She reached, too.

They both wanted the green sphere so badly. They stretched until they could go no farther,

and then went farther.

She slipped from the cliff. He grabbed her arm. Together they tumbled down into a tunnel -

- a bottomless, never-ending tunnel....

She was shaken awake by Nerfi. "Hurry! Nakht demands to speak to you right away."

Taharaq sat huddled in the small room into which they'd thrown him. He was humiliated by

the way that singer had become convulsed in terror at the mere sight of him. Was his black

skin so horrifying to her? Egypt was full of Nubians. Was this young woman from some

country outland so far to the north that she'd never seen one of his people?

He pressed his clenched fist against the throbbing spot on his forehead. The shards of

intense light breaking in through the slatted window splintered before his eyes. The only

thing that would make this curse abate was sleep. He knew it from the countless times

before, so he leaned his head against the cool clay wall and let dream-filled slumber carry

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