Imhotep (44 page)

And
still she had braved Siamun’s men and saved him.

That
night as they held each other, he rubbed her back, his hands exploring her skin
and feeling the life beneath it.  She moaned softly and moved closer to
him, but kept her hands curled against his chest.

He
kissed her forehead and lifting her chin, kissed her mouth gently.

She
returned the kiss and then pulled away.

“When
you left that night at Khmunu and didn’t come back, Djefi said that you had
gone to Tama.  Is that true?”

He
started to shake his head, then stopped.  He had been tricked into leaving
the boat and then ambushed.  But he had left the boat thinking that Tama
wanted to see him.  He didn’t know how to explain that without words, but
then he realized that the truth, the view that Tama would have was that, yes,
he had gone to Tama.

He
looked at Pahket, her eyes locked on his, and he nodded.

“Later
we heard that you killed a man  . . . ”

He
shook his head angrily before she could ask the question.

“I
believe you,” she said.  “After you left the boat, until you arrived at
the Temple of Sobek.  What did you do?  How did you survive?”

“Ama
and me,” he used his fingers to show people walking.  He tried to say
Waset, but it came out as “Waheh.” He sighed and then used his fingers to show
Tama and himself separating.  “Me, Kom Ombo,” he said.

Pahket
shook her head.  “She should not have let you go to Kom Ombo alone. 
It was too dangerous.”

Brian
nodded.  He made a fist and patted his chest to show that it was his
decision.

“You
couldn’t know, Brian.  This isn’t your land.  She should not have let
you go.  I wouldn’t have.”

She
had propped herself up on an elbow.  Resting her head against her raised
shoulder, she looked at Brian and asked, “Do you love her?”

He
didn’t know how to answer.  When he had been with Tama and they had first
made love he was sure that he would fall in love with her.  Then he
learned that she didn’t expect or want a commitment from him.  The
sensation of touch, the thrill of the motion, and excitement of the moment were
reasons enough for her.

The
release from expectations had hit him like a rock shattering a stained-glass
window.  He had seen everything in a fresh way, uncolored by social
conventions or religious rules or family traditions.  And he had fallen in
love with Tama, or rather the idea of Tama and everything she was and
wasn’t.  The physical Tama remained a joyful celebration, whether she was
walking beside him, splashing water on him, wrestling playfully or riding him
in a sweaty flush.

Yes,
he decided, he loved her.  He loved her like the sun and the wind on his
face, like the power in his muscles, like the dreams of his childhood, like the
rush of anticipation and the exhilaration of success.  She was a natural
force, so real and unassuming.  Too strong to be owned or contained, he
thought.

He
loved her as she was, not as a possible possession.

And
suddenly he realized that that was her gift to him, this understanding of love
and acceptance and unselfishness. 

He
started to laugh.  Yes, he loved Tama.  And he loved Diane, not
because she looked good walking beside him, not because of her father’s money,
not because she dressed right or felt good, but because she was a bundle of
imperfect human impulses and desires, just as he was.  He loved her and he
wanted her to be happy, by herself or with Yunet or with another man.  It
didn’t matter.

He
looked at Pahket, her eyes confused at his laughter, but eager to give way to
his joy.

He
brushed his fingertips across her cheek and watched as her face opened into a
smile that matched his own.

He
started to speak and then thought that the words, especially coming from his
mangled tongue, would simply confuse and get in the way.  He and Tama had
talked about how words conceal reality.  Now, without his tongue, he was
free of that illusion.  He shook his head at the thought that somehow, all
that he had been through at the Temple of Sobek had actually been good for
him. 

He had
been through a fire of pain and was cleansed.

“Are
you all right?” Pahket asked.

He
realized that he had tears in his eyes, but they were from happiness.

S
amut led Tama to the hut in the early
evening light as shadows lengthened across the bottom of the irrigation canal.

“There’s
no one here,” she said, emerging from the darkened hut.

Samut
looked around in panic. 

“They
were here.  I promise you,” he said.

“Samut,
everything is in order.  Two people have been sleeping here; the sand has
held their shape.  One is large, the other small.  There is a
smoldering fire near the door.  They have probably gone for a walk.”

She
turned and looked along the irrigation canal.

“See,”
she said, pointing.  “There is a pathway worn along the canal.”

He
started to walk toward it.  “I will get them,” he said.

“No,
Samut.  Stay with me.  While they are out you can tell me everything
that has happened.  You said Brian is well, but you looked away from me
when you said it.  I’ll see him soon, so there is no need to spare
me.  Tell me what you know.”

He
took a deep breath and began to talk.

“T
wenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty!” Pahket
counted loudly.  She stopped pacing and turned to look at Brian. 
Breathing heavily and drenched in sweat, he was waiting, bent over with his
hands on his knees. 

“On
your mawrk, geg seh, go,” she said, mimicking the English sounds he had taught
her.  She clapped her hands when she said go and Brian began to sprint,
breathing deeply though his nose and exhaling through his mouth.  His bare
feet dug into the sand, pushing hard as he ran.

She
had counted to eleven but not yet twelve when he pulled past her.

“Your
best ever,” she cheered as he slowed to a stop.

He
smiled widely as he sucked in the cool evening air.

“Enough?”
she asked.

He
nodded again and waited for her to catch up to him.  She reached to hug
him, but he moved away, holding his nose.

She
playfully slapped at him.  “Do you know how bad you smelled when we first
got here?  I put up with that, I can put up with this.”

He
shook his head, but waited for her with a smile.  She hugged him and then
backed away, pretending to be disgusted.  “I was wrong.  You are
worse than an onion-eating camel in heat.”

She
squealed in laughter and ran away as he tried to grab her.

He ran
after her.  She was fast, but he could have caught her.  Instead he
stayed on her heels, growling and waving his arms whenever she turned her head
to look at him.

They
saw the second person waiting at the hut at the same time, and came to a quick
stop.

“I’m
sure the first is Samut,” Pahket said.  “The other is slim.  I think
it is a woman.  It could be Tama,” she said, a note of sadness creeping
into her voice.

Brian
took her hand and squeezed it as they started to walk.

Tama
came down the pathway to greet them.  She saw immediately that Brian was
smaller.  His chest was less full and his legs were leaner, the muscles
hard ropes beneath the dark skin.  He was turned a little sideways, as if
protecting the girl.

Pahket’s
head was slightly lowered, but her eyes were alert and ready.

They
stopped as Tama reached them.

Tama
came closer and opened her arms to them both.  She pulled Brian close and
held Pahket at the same time.  With their heads close together, she said
softly, but clearly so they both could hear, “I am so relieved that you are
well, Brian.  I only heard that you were taken by Djefi the day before the
messenger arrived to say that you had escaped.”

She
raised herself on her toes and kissed his cheek.

“Pahket,”
she continued.  “Samut told me what you did.  You have the bravest
heart of anyone I have met.”

She
brushed her fingers across Pahket’s face and then kissed her cheek.  “May
Ma’at bless you always,” she added.

She
stepped back, taking their hands in hers.

“You
are a beautiful woman, Pahket.  I am glad you are with us.  I want to
hear your story.” She turned to Brian.  “I heard about your tongue,
Brian.” She shook her head.  “That is not our way.  I am sorry. 
But look at you.  You were laughing and running.  Your spirit is as
strong as ever.  As is your aroma,” she added with a smile.

“Come,
Pahket, it is dark enough.  Let’s take him to the river so he can wash
himself.  Then you must tell me about the Temple of Sobek.”

She
dropped Brian’s hand, but held onto Pahket’s.  She turned toward the
river.  “I only met Djefi once, at Khmunu, so I don’t know him,
Pahket.  What can you tell me?”

As
they walked to the river the women talked, but Brian saw how Tama glanced at
him, her look serene and accepting, but her eyes assessing and measuring. 
He knew that she realized that Pahket would feel threatened by her arrival and
was making her comfortable.  And he knew she was giving him time and space
to adjust to her return.

He
moved up beside her and took her free hand.  She squeezed his hand and he
felt a wave of confidence and love sweep through him.

Somehow,
everything would be all right.

T
he river began to stretch its fingers up
the sloping bank.

Ripples
of current brushed against dry, exposed pebbles, coloring them with moisture,
covering them and then finally dislodging them.  Stands of papyrus reeds
began to sway as the current gained strength, and soon they began to tilt,
bending north toward the long-distant mouth of the river.  Light reed
boats, tied off and left floating in the water, bobbed and strained against
their moorings, twisting to turn their untethered ends away from the river’s
gathering force.

Floating
crocodiles unconsciously turned to face the water flow, flicking their tails to
stay in place.  Others dove and, swimming to the bottom of the river,
found that the bed had become invisible, covered by a swirl of murky water
carrying so much silt that it pelted against them.  Rising again, they
swam to the banks and climbed out of the water.

The
wind, dragged along by the invisible friction of water current, gathered
strength and pushed upward, shaking the willow trees and the giant fronds of
the palms that lined the river.

Had
Djefi not been shaking from rage, he would have felt the difference as the
river began to awake in the Two Lands.  The boatmen had felt the change as
they rowed toward the bank at the Temple of Sobek.  The guards who leaned
down to help the fat priest step from the boat onto the dry riverbank, felt the
change in the wind. 

But no
one spoke about it to Djefi.  The seething fury that froze his face into a
mask stilled their tongues.

He
wanted to hurt someone, to pass the pain he felt onto someone else.  He
had started to beat the messenger who had brought him the news of Brian’s
escape, but the boat had begun to rock and he was afraid he would lose his
footing.  So he had the man thrown overboard.  But that wasn’t
enough.  That didn’t begin to take the edge off his anger.

He
shook free of the guards once he was on land.  The one to his right didn’t
let go quickly enough, so Djefi pushed a hand against the man’s unsuspecting
face.  Caught off balance, the guard stepped backward into the water, lost
his balance and fell.

The
muted laughter from the boatmen didn’t satisfy him.  Djefi wanted tears
and cries of pain.

If
only Siamun hadn’t already fed the guard to the crocodile, that would have been
something to savor.  Well, he thought, there are other guards.

He
started to lose his breath halfway up the steep walkway.  There should be
steps cut here, he thought.  How will King Djoser, how will Waja-Hur ever
get up here?  So much to attend to!

He
gasped for air, felt his bowels break in a long, rumbling fart, and plunged on
ahead.  Siamun better have a seat and beer waiting for me, he thought.

D
jefi headed for the stone chair at the
center of the courtyard.  The guards walked a few steps behind him. 
The guard who had been pushed into the water looked around for the crocodile
praying that the beast would charge from its dark well and attack the fat
priest.

Siamun
was standing by the chair.  To Djefi’s eye, Siamun looked leaner and at
the same time larger.  He looked as if he was carved from the same stone
as the chair.  The muscles of his arms and chest seemed to strain against
his skin, which looked mottled in the dusky night air, almost as if he was
covered in bruises. 

His
face, however, was lined.  He looked much older than his thirty
years.  The ragged flap of skin that had grown over where his ear used to
be looked like a baby’s fist against the side of his head.  His smile
stopped at his mouth; his eyes were narrow and dead.  His teeth, never
clean, looked almost black and another was missing. 

Suddenly
Djefi quivered, thinking of what Yunet must have put up with during her
marriage to Siamun.

“This
is where King Djoser dies,” Siamun said proudly, patting the stone chair.

Djefi’s
eyes widened.  What if the guards heard?  What if a rumor escaped the
temple?

Siamun
saw his look.  “Do you think they would say anything?” he gestured toward
the guards.  Djefi looked at them, they all had their eyes on the ground,
not daring to confront Siamun.

“They
saw what happened to Naqada,” he said, referring to the guard who had allowed
Brian to escape.  “His screams lasted three days.  After Sobek tore
off his right leg, we bound his stump and tied him back on the chair the next
night.  The last night, we didn’t tie him because both his legs were
gone.” Siamun laughed.  “He tried to drag himself away.  Sobek took
him into the well.  He wasn’t hungry for almost a week.  But now, he
is ready again.”

“You
used the oil King Djoser uses?  With the same aroma?” Djefi asked. 
He had given Siamun specific instruction.  He wanted the crocodile to be
trained to attack the right person.

Siamun
ignored his question.  “He will attack whoever sits in this chair.  I
just wish he had learned it quicker.  We should have kept him hungrier.”

Djefi
looked at him hard. 

“If he
fails, if something goes wrong, Siamun, then King Djoser will have his
revenge.  On all of us.”

Siamun
leaned close.  Djefi steeled himself not to pull back from the man’s
ferocious breath.  “Are you losing your nerve, Djefi?”

“I
don’t intend to lose anything,” he answered, straining to keep his voice from
squeaking.  “But you lost something, didn’t you?”

Siamun
stared at him, his eyelids lowering as he waited.

“Brian!
You lost Brian.”

Siamun
didn’t answer.

“Do
you know where he is?  No, you don’t.  I don’t either.  But there
are only two possibilities.  Either he’s dead, in the river and eaten by
Sobek’s brothers, or he’s alive.  If he’s alive, then that means someone
has helped him and is hiding him.

“I
heard that Hetephernebti was searching for him,” Djefi continued.  “You do
know that she is the king’s sister, don’t you?  If she has found Brian and
if he tells her what he saw here, then we are dead men, Siamun, dead men.”

He
stopped when he saw Siamun smile and then start to laugh.

“Do
you want to die, Siamun?  Are you eager to get to Khert-Neter?  Is
your heart that light?”

Siamun
shook his head smiling.  “He won’t tell anyone anything.  I cut out
his tongue!” He laughed and turned away from Djefi.

As
Djefi watched Siamun saunter toward his hut, he unconsciously wiped his lips
with his tongue.  He turned to the guards behind him.

“Is
this true?”

The
guards nodded. 

“We
saw it, and heard it, First Prophet,” one of them answered.  “I don’t know
how this man could have survived.  I don’t think he is still alive. 
If he somehow got to Kom Ombo he could not last long.  He was weak and
dying.”

Djefi
thought about the agony Brian would have felt, the blood that would have
flowed, and he smiled.

But,
he worried, what if Siamun is wrong?  Siamun thought Brian would die out
in the desert, but he had survived.  Diane!  The other outlander, the
one whom King Djoser has taken to calling Imhotep, he tried to talk to Diane
during the ceremony at Iunu.  She is my lever.  As long as I have
her, I can use her to bargain with King Djoser if he survives Sobek.

He
turned toward the central temple complex where his rooms were waiting, his
anger and tiredness forgotten as he made new plans.

I
n the morning he sent for Yunet and Diane.

Diane
looked like a different woman.  She still had her red hair, but it was
tangled and dirty.  Her pale skin was pasty and unhealthy, her eyes were
red rimmed and bloodshot.  She had lost weight and her breasts, their
outlines visible beneath her linen robe, seemed to hang lower.

She
had looked like a goddess.  Now she was an empty shell.

Yunet
looked as tired, but still strong and proud.

“Greetings,
little sisters,” Djefi said.

Siamun,
standing by Djefi’s chair, said nothing as the women entered.

“Greetings,
First Prophet,” Yunet answered.

Diane
raised her eyes from the stone floor and stared at Siamun.  “Go to hell,”
she said.

Djefi
was puzzled at the foreign words, but when he saw Siamun stiffen, he looked at
Yunet for an answer.

“She
is angry with Siamun because of what he did to Brian.”

Djefi
nodded.  “Then the news I have for her will not be pleasing.” He paused,
waiting for a response.  When he got none, he continued, “The dedication
of the temple is approaching.  I think it will be a very confusing
time.  I have so much to do.  I won’t have time to be a proper host
to Diane.  So, I have asked Siamun to take the two of you back to To-She,
where you can relax without all this, uh, confusion.”

Yunet
looked at Djefi, trying to understand what was really happening.  They
were being banished from the temple, kept away from the priests, priestesses
and officials who would be arriving.  So Djefi was intent on hiding Diane
from everyone.  It wasn’t because of the way she looks now, Yunet
reasoned, because he had made the decision before he saw her.

She
didn’t understand why.

“Yes,
First Prophet,” she said.  “We would be happy to return to To-She. 
But I’m sure you have important tasks here for Siamun.  We could travel
alone.  Or with one of the boatmen.”

“Of
course, you could.  But his work here is done and he is ready to return to
To-She.  Aren’t you, Siamun?”

The
guard grunted a sound that could have been ‘yes.’

So
Siamun is being banished, also, Yunet thought.  Or he is being sent to
guard Diane, to keep her from escaping.  Suddenly she was gripped with
fear that Siamun had been told to take Diane away from the temple and to kill
her.  Then she shook free of the thought.  If he wanted to kill her
she would have been placed in the stone chair days ago.

“As
you wish, First Prophet,” Yunet said, bowing her head.  There was little
else to do, she thought.  They would go back to To-She and wait. 
There had been no word about Brian or the other stranger, except rumors that he
was traveling with the king.  At To-She they would be able to see less of
Siamun than here in this confined temple complex.  Perhaps Diane would
begin to recover, to eat and regain her health.

“Thank
you,” she added as they withdrew.

“And
go to hell,” Diane added under her breath.

“W
hy did you agree?” Diane asked. 
“Why’d you kiss his fat ass,” she added in English, knowing Yunet wouldn’t
understand.

Yunet
stroked Diane’s shoulder.  She hated what had happened to her since she
had seen Brian’s tongue cut out.  It was hard, Yunet understood
that.  But it was not something that could be changed.

If she
wanted revenge on Siamun, then Diane would need to stay strong, not sulk and go
hungry.  She understood that the country Diane came from was different,
but that did her no good now.  She was here.

“If we
go to To-She, then we’ll be away from this spot, from these memories,” she said
soothingly.  “We can get away from this heat and all this sand and
rock.  Remember the orchards and the gardens, Diane?  It will be like
it was when you first arrived.  Once this temple is dedicated, everything
will return to normal.”

Diane
spoke without emotion, as she had since that night.  “I don’t want
normal.  I want Siamun dead.”

Yunet
put her hand over Diane’s mouth.

“You
must never say that,” she warned her.  “I know you are angry, I know you
are hurt.  But if he hears what you are thinking, he will hurt you. 
I know.”

Diane
jerked her head away.

“You
know.  You know,” Diane mocked her.  She switched to English. 
“You don’t know shit.  If Brian ever gets Siamun alone, he’ll rip his head
off.  Brian is still alive, I know it.  So yeah, I’ll go to To-She if
it gets Siamun away from here so Brian has a chance to get better.  Then
he’ll come looking for Siamun.  Brian found us here; he’ll find us in
To-She.  And this time, I’ll be ready.” She picked up a vase and threw it
against the wall.  “This time I won’t let him down.”

Yunet
let her rant, listening to the anger spill from her.  She knew the feeling
of pain and helplessness and how it could build inside until a balance was
tipped, until the heart became so full that it had to explode.

Now
was not the time for soothing, she knew.  That would come later.  But
would Diane be able to contain herself on the long trip back to To-She or would
she try to strike out at Siamun then?  That would be disastrous.

She
thought she knew this redheaded goddess-child, but now she wasn’t sure.

When
Diane and Brian had arrived at To-She after their trek across the desert with
Bakr, Yunet had seen immediately that Diane was angry with Brian.  When
they had fought that evening, Yunet had instinctively moved to comfort
Diane.  She knew what it was like to fear a man.