The Concubine's Tale (4 page)

None of the four dared to defy him, though, and he took Nayari’s elbow in his hand and led her down the corridor.

When the acolytes had disappeared, she pulled her arm from his grasp. Her anger showed in her stiff posture and quick steps. She drew ahead of him in the narrow corridor and turned on him. The ferocity in her expression amused him and, to his chagrin, aroused him as well. Seething, her eyes flashing and her breasts heaving beneath the thin sheath of linen she wore, she reminded him of a desert wildcat in desperate need of taming.

“I never needed an escort to go outside when I resided with Ammonptah. I don’t see why I need one now.” With her hands planted on her slim hips, she seemed to fill the narrow corridor. Khanu took one step forward, forcing her to crane her graceful neck to hold his gaze.

“Ammonptah is obviously concerned for your safety and doesn’t wish you to be wandering around alone. I will accompany you wherever you go, or I will assign an acolyte to stay with you.”

“I don’t see what danger I would be in, sitting in the courtyard.”

“That is precisely why you need to be guarded, because you don’t see any danger.”

His logic apparently escaped her, and she frowned. “I know Ammonptah has enemies.”

“All powerful men do.”

She dropped her arms, then crossed them over her chest. With one hip thrust forward, she managed to maintain her defiant posture, even though her expression softened. “If we need to fear enemies of Ammonptah, why were there no guards at his home? Surely Baakah and his other wives would be in danger also?”

“There may have been no guards when we left, but we have no way of knowing if there are guards now.”

She sighed loudly and whirled around again. He indulged in a smile as she began walking toward the main temple room. “You’re far too smart to be a soldier. You should have been a scribe or a priest, with all those clever answers in your head.”

“And you are far too talkative to be a—” Khanu stopped when Nayari backed up one quick step and collided with his chest. He felt the tense set of her muscles and the gentle swell of her buttocks pressed against his thigh. She held up one hand to shush him and pointed into the temple room.

The deep thrum of half a dozen drums began, echoing through the huge rectangular chamber. Like the heartbeat of a giant, the rhythmic sound traveled through the stone floor and seemed to settle directly in Khanu’s loins. His balls began to ache with the sound and the nearness of Nayari’s supple body.

He peered over her shoulder at the ritual taking place before the altar of Min.

The priests knelt before a huge statue of the god clutching his erect penis. The long, straight shadow of his member fell between them, cast by an oil lamp hanging from a sconce high on the wall.

Sheaves of wheat and bowls of grain decorated the altar, and the acolytes, now completely naked, circled the pile of offerings. They chanted in time to the drumbeat and bowed their heads in unison to pray to the god.

Khanu felt Nayari tremble, and he placed one hand on her shoulder, drawing her gently back against him. They dared not enter the temple and defile the ceremony, so they stood in the shadows, captured by the spectacle.

The rhythm of the drums increased, and the acolytes broke away from the altar. The priests rose and moved to the back of the room where a man stood, garbed in dark robes. They brought him forward and removed his robes, leaving him also standing naked before the statue of the god.

One by one, the acolytes danced around the man. Their fingers fluttered over his chest, his back and his own member, which grew erect as the ritual continued.

Finally, when the drumming became a crescendo that rattled the walls, the man reached out and drew one of the acolytes to him in a backward embrace. He pulled her against him and bent her forward. She threw back her head and let out a moan of pleasure as he entered her. He grasped her hips and took her, moving to the beat of the drums, while the other acolytes danced and the priests chanted.

Nayari sank against Khanu’s chest, and the heat of her skin burned him. She began to sway with the beat as well, bumping her buttocks against his thighs. She had to feel his own hardened member, had to be aware of his growing arousal. She moaned softly, and his cock surged. Without thought, he slid his hand from her shoulder to her waist and held her, trapped against him until the ritual ended. The man and the acolyte collapsed on the floor before the altar, panting from their exertions. Once again, the priests knelt before the statue of Min and bowed their heads.

The tableau remained for a moment, all the participants utterly silent, then they rose, gathered discarded robes and skirts and left the room. Only Min remained, still holding his member, its long shadow stretching across the room to point at the corridor where Nayari and Khanu stood, trembling.

“I’ll take you outside now,” he said finally, finding his voice. He removed his hand from her and stepped back. She didn’t turn, but he saw the tremor in her posture. Silently, he followed her out into the brilliant sunlight of the temple courtyard.

“Interesting ritual,” Grant said when they reached Cait’s apartment. Her story definitely had an effect on him. His voice had gone deep and husky, and when she glanced over her shoulder at him, she caught the hint of arousal in his eyes. “I’m going to have to do some research on Min.”

Cait’s hand shook a little as she maneuvered her key into the lock on her apartment door. There was still time to back out of this and send Grant on his way. After all, this evening had never been intended as a date. Why, suddenly, was she willing to endanger her job for Grant? Was it simply because she hadn’t been out with anyone in months, or because maybe she’d been holding out for just this moment? For the first time, she saw past his arrogant exterior to the man beneath and wondered why she hadn’t bothered to look that closely before.

Pushing her inner debate aside, she turned the key and opened the door. She hit the light switch, and Grant followed her inside. “Much of what’s written in Layton’s journal seems to be speculation, but the description of the rite witnessed by Nayari and Khanu is very specific. It may not have been a standard ritual that was practiced often.”

She led Grant through the small entry hall into her living room. “Have a seat. I’ll make some coffee.”

“That can wait. I’d like to hear more. At this point, they both must have been supercharged. How did they keep their hands off each other?” His grin was mischievous. He took her hand and drew her toward the couch.

“Escaping the sultry atmosphere of the temple was probably a wise thing at that moment. Outside there would have been a number of people milling around, traffic on the street, merchants, caravans, people waiting to leave offerings for Min. They wouldn’t have been alone.” She sat, leaned back into the corner of the overstuffed couch and stretched her legs.

Grant loosened his tie and took off his jacket. His crisp, cream-colored shirt fit as though it was hand-tailored, and she found herself admiring the hard lines of his angular torso. He was probably a weightlifter, she decided, but not fanatical about it.

“How many times have you read the translation?”

She laughed. “More than once. Layton includes a literal, line-by-line account, which can be a little hard to follow at times due to the syntax. But he also commissioned an interpretive translation to smooth out the rough spots in the text. That writer embellished here and there, obviously, but really made the story come alive.”

“You seem to have that talent as well.”

Cait felt herself blush. How had she managed to end up with Grant Pierson sitting on her couch, flattering her, ready to hear more about the ancient lovers who had captured her imagination? “Nayari didn’t want to be forgotten. It’s wonderful that we finally get the chance to know her story.”

Grant’s eyes darkened momentarily. “Layton would have kept it to himself forever.”

“Fortunately, his heirs are more generous.”

“Or greedy. They’re asking a hefty price for the scroll and the journals, right?”

“The bidding is going to be hot.”

“You bet it is.” He licked his lips. “Tell me more. How long did it take Khanu to make his move?”

Nayari’s first full day in residence at the temple was long and frustrating. After watching the shocking ritual, she could think of nothing else for hours. Still dutiful to Ammonptah, she struggled to keep her eyes off the warrior and found a shady spot in the courtyard to sit and contemplate her fate.

When the acolytes came to find her later in the day, she tried to pick out which one it had been that had participated in the coupling with the man in the dark robes, but all the women looked very much alike. With their eyes ringed in kohl and straight black wigs on their heads, she could scarcely tell one from the other. When they escorted her back to her room, the warrior remained in the courtyard, talking to one of the priests. That suited Nayari since she could think of nothing to say to him.

Alone with her thoughts once again, she wondered how long Ammonptah expected her to wait for him. Perhaps merely living in the temple would bestow some of the blessings of Min on her and make her fertile, but she began to think perhaps she would be expected to participate in a rite like she’d seen that day.

Her mind wandered, recreating the fevered dancing and the incessant beat of the drums. In her mind’s eye, she saw the warrior, felt his hands on her waist, and finally imagined the thrust of his cock inside her as she bent in supplication to the god.

Why couldn’t she think of Ammonptah the same way?

Perhaps that was why she hadn’t conceived yet. She thought of Ammonptah only as her master, a man whose clumsy attentions were to be endured rather than enjoyed.

She paced the confines of her room for what seemed like hours, hoping to work off the nervous feeling that had settled in the pit of her stomach. A dozen times she went to the door and, without disturbing the reed mat, tried to peer through the miniscule holes between the weave to see if the warrior had returned to his guard post.

She nearly fell over when the mat swept aside and one of the acolytes hurried into the room.

“Shh.” The woman hushed her and turned to peer back into the corridor. “I’ve come to bring you news.”

“Of Ammonptah?” Nayari’s heart thundered. Was he finally here? Had the warrior left? She found herself wanting to call for him, except she still didn’t know his name.

“There is a man coming here from Saqqara. A wizard. You are to be given to him.”

A startled laugh escaped Nayari’s lips. What absurdity. Ammonptah was a magistrate, a man of stature and intelligence. He had no use for wizards…did he? What could a wizard possibly offer Ammonptah?

“I overheard Menep the priest saying that the wizard’s entourage would take an extra day to arrive and that he was going to instruct your guard not to take you out into the courtyard again. In fact, the other acolytes are preparing a room beneath the temple for you where you’ll await your new master’s arrival.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Nayari’s voice rose, and the acolyte hushed her again with a nervous glance at the door. “This can’t be true.”

“It is what I heard. I’m telling you because I’ve heard tales of this wizard. He’s called Benak-Ra, and he is an enemy of Pharaoh.”

“An enemy of Seti?”

“As is Ammonptah.”

“That’s impossible! Ammonptah loves Pharaoh. They are brothers.”

“They are rivals. Ammonptah wishes to unseat Seti and has engaged Benak-Ra to cast a spell.”

“How do you know all this? You’re merely a temple servant.” Nayari’s heart lurched in her chest. She clutched at her stomach to still the urge to slap the insolent woman. This had to be a trick, a test perhaps to force Nayari to denounce her master.

“I’m loyal to Pharaoh. I will not help Ammonptah steal his throne. I’m giving you a chance to escape and disappear. If the offering your master makes to the wizard is not here when he arrives, there will be no spell.”

“Surely the gods will protect Pharaoh from Benak-Ra.” Of course they would. He was their chosen son, after all.

“Perhaps the gods act through me. I am telling you, little one. Go while you can and save yourself. Benak-Ra is a cruel master, and when his plot is uncovered, all who are with him will die.” The woman said no more. She slipped out of the room, leaving the reed mat swinging behind her. Nayari only stared, shocked and terribly frightened. It all had to be a trick. If she ran away from Ammonptah her punishment would be severe. But if she ran away from Benak-Ra…

Finally, Nayari found the strength to move across the room. She looked out into the empty corridor. Where had her nameless warrior gone? Why had he abandoned her? Would the other acolytes be coming soon to take her to the room below the temple and keep her prisoner?

She had to make her decision now. Run for her life on the word of an acolyte, or remain, loyal and faithful to her master until he was her master no longer.

Nayari ran.

“How about a glass of wine instead of coffee?” Cait asked.

Grant felt as though he’d been snapped back through time—a journey of over three thousand years in the span of a heartbeat. “Wine sounds great.”

He watched her rise from the couch, unfolding her long legs, and he counted those pearl buttons on her blouse. Six. He imagined sliding them through the buttonholes in the shimmery silk and discovering what treasures lay beneath.

He turned to watch her cross to the kitchenette. She kicked off her shoes in a fluid motion, leaving her a few inches shorter.

“Do you need help with the cork?” he asked with a grin when she set two crystal goblets on the open counter.

She gave him a mischievous look, one perfectly arched eyebrow raised. “If you want wine with a cork, you’re in the wrong neighborhood, Mr. Pierson. This is screw-top wine.”

“Ah.” He rolled his eyes in mock exasperation. “I had no idea this was screw-top territory. What about your coq au vin?”

“For that, I use the good stuff. You’ll have to wait until I invite you for dinner.”

“How long will I have to wait?”