Being Sekhmet’s priestess, Djeserit had seen the cloud of darkness for some time, she had spoken of it.
Now she simply nodded, saying nothing, her heart heavy.
All of them could see it now, as Djeserit did, as Banafrit did, a darkness that stained the far horizon.
Banafrit took a breath, her gaze turning to Kahotep, High Priest of Horus. He had the clearest Sight. His was the prophecy.
“What do you see there, Priest of Horus?” she asked.
Kahotep Looked and then closed his Eye against what he saw there.
“Death and destruction,” he said. “A Darkness that even my Sight cannot penetrate.”
Looking from one to the other, Khai said. “That’s what my man said. A shadow, a darkness. Out of which something comes. What is it, do you know?”
Kahotep shook his head, as worried as they all were.
Was this the darkness of which his prophecy had spoken? The great darkness that would rise out of the desert to threaten Egypt and all the world? As yet, there was no way to know for certain. But he feared. Resolutely he did not, would not, look at she who was named Irisi, and Nubiti – the golden one – for fear of what he would See when he looked at her.
“The army needs to move against this threat,” Khai said. “Now. If this reaches the fort and the fort falls, the south will be undefended.”
Helplessly, Banafrit shook her head. “The King is as deaf to our petitions as he is to yours, Lord Khai. I’ve sent to the Grand Vizier to ask for an audience many times. There’s been no answer.”
It appeared Khai wasn’t the only one to suffer the Grand Vizier’s displeasure.
He paced away in frustration. “What then can we do?”
Banafrit raised her hands helplessly.
A voice from the shadows said softly, “There is a way to speak to the King – if not directly…”
Irisi stepped out of the darkness that had pooled in the corners of the room with the lowering of the sun.
Khai had almost forgotten that stillness that was so much a part of her. As aware of her as he was, even knowing she was in the room, his senses tingling, she’d still slipped into the shadows at the corner of his mind.
The last light of the sun painted her features in shades of rose-gold, gilded her face and hair with its warm light. His breath caught at the sight of her, her fine features softened by that ethereal radiance, her brilliant hair aglow.
“What way?” Banafrit asked.
“The King’s gift to me. I take the cats to the King’s preserve in two days,” Irisi said. “He is often there or if not him, Paniwi. It would take only a word to them.”
Cats. Irisi’s lions.
Banafrit shook her head, smiling a little. The ‘cats’ were no longer cubs but full-grown lions and as attached to Irisi as kittens were to their mother, seeing her as the leader of their pride.
With a wry grin, Irisi added, “Oddly, for some reason Paniwi feels safer with them around her. As does the King it seems. Few trouble her with lions about. It would be a brave assassin who would chance them.”
There was that.
Irisi waited, her eyes going from Khai to Banafrit.
“It’s a dangerous step to take,” Banafrit said, eyeing all of them in turn. “We’d be circumventing the Grand Vizier. Kamenwati won’t be pleased if he learns of it.”
“This we know,” Djeserit said.
“If he toys with dark magic, even we aren’t entirely immune from his wrath,” Awan said, offering caution against Djeserit’s impatience.
Kahotep shook his head. “We can’t stand aside.”
Banafrit looked to Irisi, who already bore the weight of some measure of Kamenwati’s displeasure and saw the knowledge of it, as well as the acceptance of the burden, in Irisi’s eyes.
Smiling wryly, Irisi shrugged and said, in answer to Banafrit’s unspoken question, “How much greater of an enemy of him can I make?”
That was true enough, Banafrit thought.
Khai looked from one to the other of them, frowning.
As light as she might speak of it, making an enemy of the Grand Vizier was a very dangerous proposition.
If this put Irisi in jeopardy…
However much it worried him, it was a risk they had to take, he knew, for the sake of Egypt.
Banafrit was concerned for her protégé as well but there was no choice.
“Do it, Irisi,” Banafrit instructed. “The King must know. Our thanks to you, Lord General, for coming to us. We’ll do what we can. See General Khai to his chariot, Irisi, please.”
Irisi bowed as Banafrit and the other priests and priestesses waved both her and Khai on their way.
As much as Khai wanted to stay, and he did, he could find no reason to do so. It grew late and he knew he should rejoin to his men while Irisi returned to those upstairs.
She was lovely in the torchlight, though, those unusually colored eyes glancing at him sideways from beneath her lashes.
Reluctantly, Irisi summoned the servant with Khai’s horse and chariot.
“Have a care, my Lord General,” she said, looking up at him as he mounted his chariot, wishing she could say more, do more, to hold him there even a moment longer.
Free as she was, she dared not, however much she wished to reach out to him.
Her heart aching, she watched him ride away, knowing then the true depths of Kamenwati’s curse.
It was a day as beautiful as most in Egypt, the sun brilliant in the faded blue sky, the heat of it warm on her shoulders. Irisi found that she didn’t miss the cold wet days of fall and winter in the lands of the north. Or the grayness, the leaf-stripped trees, or huddling inside the cottage as the chill clammy wind rattled the shutters and seeped between the chinking. Or battling her way against the rain or snow to milk the cows and goats. Nor did she miss wet feet or heavy clothing. She loved the hot breezes, the shimmering waters of the Nile, the waving palms and fig trees. Here both men and women sometimes wore little but a short kilt, baring their skin to the sky and the breezes. Her own skin was burnished gold by the sun.
Antelope, ibex and deer, some imported from lands outside of Egypt, wandered through the tall grasses.
Narmer loved to hunt, but leaving Thebes to do so wasn’t possible and so a place had been made for him on the shores of the river where he could track his quarry close to the palace and in relative safety.
The cats were in a single cage on a trundle cart, all but one prowling the confines in anticipation despite the crowding. Emu lolled on her back happily, all four feet splayed. The other cats stepped around her, but she rolled to her feet as they came to a halt, her ears swiveling as eagerly as the others’. Mouths opening, they tasted the breeze, huffing with expectation and anticipation.
Irisi could see the hides of the horses that pulled the cart twitch nervously at the scent of the lions behind them.
Within the preserve was an elaborate barge anchored alongside the bank of the Nile and set aside for the use of the King and his consort.
As was Paniwi’s habit as her pregnancy advanced and the heat weighed heavily on her, she reclined there to enjoy the cool river breezes.
Glancing over at the recumbent consort, seeing her wave of consent, Irisi opened the cage to release her lions.
Happily, the animals bounded out into the grass and their great heads lifted, the lionesses chuffing and tasting the air. All four fanned out and moved off into the preserve in search of their dinner.
“Lady Irisi,” one of Paniwi’s ladies called with a smile. “The consort bids you join us.”
She often did, for which Irisi found herself honored. She very much liked the strong-minded Queen.
Inclining her head, Irisi walked toward the barge, one of the porters coming out to carry her across to the side of the boat. He swung up somewhat hurriedly, glancing behind him at the great cats as the lions disappeared among the grasses. Irisi knew there were crocodiles in the water to be wary of as well, so he had reason for concern.
“My Lady,” Irisi said, bowing to the Queen consort.
Around Paniwi were an array of slaves, servants and her women. The slaves stroked fans made of the wings of geese to cool her while others held plates of delicacies for her and her women to eat. Surrounding them were members of the Nubian guard, a greater number than there had been in times past, to protect the consort and the precious life she carried within her.
The Queen Consort looked as big as a house and was clearly uncomfortable but happy to be so obviously with child.
“How do you fare, my Lady?” Irisi asked, tilting her head questioningly at the consort.
Paniwi nodded permission as Irisi placed her hand on the roundness of her belly to assess the baby’s health. The consort had said often that she was relieved to have a healer so close at hand.
There was movement beneath Irisi’s hand as she called up healing magic.
Smiling, Irisi said, “The babe does well. He has a strong kick.”
With a small wince, Paniwi said, wryly, “He does, indeed.”
Both of them smiled.
“He’ll be strong and tall like his father, and as wise as both of his parents,” Irisi said.
Amused, Paniwi just gave her a look and shook her head. “Blatant flattery.”
Irisi smiled.
“Would you prefer the un-blatant kind instead?” Irisi asked, grinning.
The consort shook her head, laughing in return.
Paniwi liked this priestess and trusted her as she trusted few others, surrounded as she was by Kamenwati’s people.
“So,” Paniwi said, “how does life go at the temple?”
With a sigh and a disquieted frown, both unfeigned, Irisi said, “Difficult. Busy, my Lady. We find ourselves taxed. The troubles to the south and west worry us.”
Paniwi frowned. Troubles to the south and west…what troubles? She’d heard were whispers among the servants, but little else. Kamenwati said nothing, and as Grand Vizier he should have.
She couldn’t show her ignorance, however, even to one such as Irisi whom she trusted.
Sitting up a little, Paniwi said, carefully, “How bad is it?”
Irisi looked at her from where she knelt at Paniwi’s side and shook her head. “Whole villages are emptied. General Khai came to see Isis’s High Priestess. He’d sent out a patrol. Only one man among them returned. Word was sent to the King, he awaits a response.”
Alarmed, Paniwi considered it.
There had been no word that she was aware of, just idle rumors, whispers and disquiet among the servants, glances askance, but nothing else. Lord Kamenwati had been silent on the matter and no other word had reached Narmer that Paniwi knew. Nor had he received a request from Lord General Khai.
“Only one returned?” Paniwi repeated.
Turning, Irisi looked at her. “Yes, my Lady.”
One. From a patrol.
Paniwi looked out over the calm waters of the Nile. She’d heard nothing of this. Nothing.
Neither, she was certain, had the King.
Why? Kamenwati should have informed Narmer of it but he hadn’t. For what reason, Paniwi wondered?
It couldn’t be to serve Narmer, of that she had no doubt. Kamenwati served Kamenwati and no other.
The King, her beloved Narmer, would hear of nothing bad regarding his cousin. They’d been like brothers as children.
Thoughtfully, Paniwi looked at Irisi.
Not reaching Narmer himself, the priests and priestesses had sent this priestess as their emissary. Paniwi understood that.
However it had its dangers, as she knew. Kamenwati stood second only to the King himself. He wouldn’t be pleased if he learned of this.
“You dare greatly, priestess,” she said, quietly, “to challenge the Grand Vizier.”
With a small shrug, Irisi said, her head bowed, carefully not looking Paniwi in the eye, “I dare nothing, my Lady, and challenge nothing. As the Grand Vizier has never been my friend, I have little more to fear.”
Few didn’t know her story, even Paniwi had heard it, although she didn’t know the full reason Irisi had sought the service of the Goddess, assuming only that she’d been called to it as others before her had been. That Kamenwati had been displeased to lose his slave was a given but had also been noticeable. What had been unusual was for him to let it show.
Paniwi nodded. She had little love for the Grand Vizier herself. She couldn’t bring herself to care for his discomfort but would find more than a little pleasure in discomfiting him.
Nor had Irisi abused their friendship. Paniwi respected that also.
“Very well,” Paniwi said. “I will speak to the King of this.”
She had her own resources. She would confirm these rumors and then she would speak to Narmer herself.
Inclining her head, Irisi said, “Thank you, my Lady.”
For a time Narmer stood on the veranda looking out over the city, his hands clasped pensively behind his back. He had no doubt Paniwi was correct. They awaited only Kamenwati’s arrival and his explanation. Anger moved in him. If the reports he’d heard so far were true, then he should have been informed much sooner. Worse still, his inaction appeared uncaring of Egypt, of her affairs. Egypt was his life far more than his duty; he’d been born to be her King, and raised to serve her.
A servant bowed the Grand Vizier into the room.
They’d been raised together as boys, as close, he’d thought, as brothers at times.
Still there were times when Kamenwati overstepped his bounds, acted as if it were he who was King and Narmer knew it. Once or twice, he’d had to speak to Kamenwati of it, but had blamed it on overzealousness.
This time, if the stories were true, Kamenwati had gone too far.
Narmer didn’t wait for the formalities to be completed.
“What is this of the south?” he asked, turning on the man he’d thought to be like a brother to him.
The small start Kamenwati gave before he recovered himself and replied betrayed him even as his words belied it. Had any other seen it, any other who hadn’t known Kamenwati so well and for so long, they might have missed that slight motion. But Narmer knew Kamenwati as no other did.
So it was true then. Narmer’s jaw tightened.
“What is it you speak of?” Kamenwati asked.
Beneath his breath, Kamenwati swore softly.
How had Narmer learned of the events in the South? He’d been so careful to keep even the breath of such news away.
Waving negligently, Kamenwati said, “A small matter. It’s being taken care of.”
“By whom?” Narmer demanded. “My army of the West sits idle outside the city. The others haven’t been summoned. A small matter? By what means is it being taken care of, cousin? My Lord Kamenwati? What is it then that we face?”
It was as if Narmer suddenly looked at his cousin truly and clearly for the first time in years, seeing the overly handsome face, the calculating black eyes, the strong body with its small signs of indolence and indulgence. Once seen, it could not be unseen.
How many other times had he been lied to and not seen it?
From the safety and darkness of the hall that led to their private quarters, Paniwi looked on and smiled.
Finally, Narmer’s eyes were clear.
Kamenwati’s glamour was gone now from her beloved’s eyes. He was no longer blinded as he had been by his cousin’s magic.
As silently as she might for a woman so heavily pregnant she slipped away, unnoticed by the two men who faced each other in the room behind her.
Only Narmer’s guards were there to witness Kamenwati’s fall and they wouldn’t speak of it. Nor would they live long, if Kamenwati had anything to say of it. Lately, Narmer was never alone, not even in Kamenwati’s presence, only in Narmer’s own bedchamber, and that guarded on every entrance.
“I thought it only lions, my Lord King, as sometimes are driven out of the desert at times,” Kamenwati said, spreading his hands.
It wasn’t entirely impossible, and the only excuse Kamenwati could think of on such short notice. Rogue lions had invaded villages before and wreaked havoc when they did, killing at least a few folk before disappearing again or being hunted down by the surviving villagers.
“Lions?” Narmer said incredulously and looked at him. “Whole villages are laid waste and abandoned. Others are empty, I’m told.”
“My King,” Kamenwati said, bowing, giving all appearance of apology.
For the first time, Narmer found he didn’t believe it.
Another thought occurred, a cold shiver going through him as Narmer remembered the day his father had named him heir.
The voice of the priest of Horus echoed through him in prophecy…
It was custom for the priests and priestesses to speak to the Gods and consult the stars on such an auspicious day…
The prophecy…
“Call up the army,” Narmer said. “Send a division of each south, with Generals Akhom, Khai and Baraka. Find out what threat this is. I will hear their reports myself, Kamenwati, and from no other. Not even you.”
With a wave, he dismissed his cousin summarily from his presence.
It was as if he had suddenly awakened.
He summoned a messenger. “I would speak to those of the temples.”