Magic of the Nile (14 page)

Hathor and Tawaret made sure Tyema was squatting firmly on the bricks. “When I tell you to push, I want you to put all your will and love for this child into the effort,” Hathor said, staring directly into Tyema’s eyes, her own velvet brown eyes wide in concern. “Breathe deep.”

Tyema nodded, taking in air. She clenched her teeth and closed her eyes.
Please let this be over soon.
“I’m ready.”

“Push then, and let the new
ka
embodied in this child enter the world.” Hathor laid one hand on Tyema’s swollen belly, massaging the skin ever so slightly. Heat radiated from the goddess’s touch.

With no warning, the hard, driving labor pains started again and Tyema tried to ride them, tried not to fight. The sensations were different this time, not only because the goddesses held her in an iron grip, but the baby seemed to be trying to cooperate now. An indescribable urge to push seized Tyema and she bore down with every muscle in her body, holding her breath to give even more power to the effort.

All of a sudden she felt physically lighter as there was a great gush of fluids and a baby emerging from her body, to be caught by Tawaret. The contractions stopped. Leaning on Hathor, the goddess’s arm around her waist in support, Tyema watched Merys cut the cord. The strong, outraged cries of a lusty infant sounded in the room. Hathor massaged Tyema’s belly until the afterbirth was safely expelled and then the goddesses helped her back to the refreshed bed. The unearthly blue sheets were cool to her overheated skin, smelling faintly of lotus. With tears of joy running down her cheeks, Merys brought Tyema the red, wrinkled, screaming baby, wrapped in one of the embroidered blankets sewn by their family.

“You have a son, a fine boy,” she said over the outraged child’s squalling as she placed the baby in Tyema’s arms.

Trembling, Tyema cradled her son in one arm and pushed back the swaddling clothes with her free hand, looking in wonder at the scrunched up, flushed face, the perfect toes and the tiny fingers. The large baby had amazing muscle tone and coordination already. He turned his head to her, clearly wanting to nurse. Merys helped her arrange herself and the baby more comfortably, and the infant latched on with strong suction and a greedy gurgle. Tyema felt her milk let down with a tingling rush and stared at Merys in awe and surprise, causing her sister to laugh and give her a hug. The child curled one hand around Tyema’s finger, staring up at her face.

“How handsome he is, so like his father,” Tyema whispered. “All this time I thought I was having a girl. How foolish of me. Of course Sahure would give me a warrior.”

“We must leave you now, daughter,” Hathor said, bending over to kiss the child. “But first tell us the name which has whispered itself to you.”

“Yes, who did we assist into this world?” Tawaret asked with a broad smile. She stroked the baby’s hair with one finger.

“Seknehure, his name is Seknehure,” Tyema whispered, suddenly sleepy. She leaned back on the pillows rearranged by Merys.

“An excellent name, for a boy with a shining destiny. His future will be full of challenges befitting a warrior, but he will prevail and bring honor to Egypt, and his parents,” Hathor pronounced, her voice sonorous, echoing in the bedchamber. She touched the newly named child on the forehead with the tip of her
menit
diadem. “Blessings upon him and those he loves.”

“Thank you, for everything,” Tyema said, gazing from one goddess to the other. “We would have both died if you hadn’t come to help.”

“Long life and happiness to him,” Tawaret said, laying her ivory ankh on his sturdy body for a heartbeat. The baby blinked but continued nursing, one fist lying on his mother’s chest.

“You did well, daughter,” Hathor said before she linked arms with Tawaret. The two goddesses strolled out the open door into the garden and were gone in a blaze of green light between one step and the next.

Merys lingered a moment. “I would so love to hold my new nephew again, but after what he’s been through, I don’t want to disturb him while he nurses. What a gorgeous, big baby.”

“How can I ever thank you?” Tyema said. “We both would have died if you hadn’t brought the Great Ones.”

“No need for thanks.” Merys kissed her forehead. She seemed sad, tears glinting in her eyes. “But this is the last time I can help—I can’t come again.”

Tyema was surprised and dismayed. “Never?”

Merys shook her head. “Isis demanded the condition before she’d allow me to accompany Hathor and Tawaret tonight. One who dwells in the Afterlife as I do isn’t supposed to mingle with the living, not even those we love most. My time for being here is done, long past. Isis says it’s a loose end in the tapestry and must be cut.”

Tyema twined the fingers of her free hand around Merys’s and squeezed. “Although more children seem unlikely for me, if I ever have a daughter, I’ll name her for you, I promise.”

Merys smiled. “We’ll meet again, in the Afterlife, for I’m positive your heart will be Judged as true when that day comes.” Gently she withdrew her hand from Tyema’s. “I wish you well, with the baby and with your man Sahure, if ever the chance arises to make amends with him. I’m not a Great One, I can’t prophesy for you how it might turn out, but I hope you find true love, if not with him, then with another.”

Awkwardly, trying not to disturb the baby, Tyema hugged her beloved sister, while tears flowed down her cheeks. “I know we’ve been unusually blessed to be able to continue meeting all these years, but it’s hard to say a final goodbye.”

“You won’t miss me,you’ll be busy mothering Seknehure. You don’t need me anymore, little sister,” Merys said, brave words belied by the sadness in her eyes.

“Perhaps not in the way I did as a child, but I’ll always love you,” Tyema answered.

“Give the rest of our family more of a chance,” Merys said, nodding at the closed door. “They love you too and I know they’re proud of you, of what you’ve done here at the temple, of the woman you grew to be.”

“I will, I promise.” Tyema stroked her son’s downy cheek. Family had a whole new meaning for her today.

“I’m proud of you, as if I’d been your mother in truth, not your half-sister.” Merys kissed Tyema on the forehead. “I must go before Isis grows angry. My place in Sobek’s home is secure, she gave us her word I’d dwell there in the Afterlife with him for all time, but she’s fearsome to deal with when she’s upset. Even for a few more moments with you, I can’t risk her wrath. She takes her anger out on Sobek, which pains me more than if she punished me and well she knows it. Life, prosperity, health until we meet again.”

Walking out of the room into the garden beyond, Merys followed the path the goddesses had taken a moment before.

Tyema saw Sobek stride out of the mists in full human form, taking her sister’s hand. He glanced into the room, smiling when he met her gaze, and then they too were gone in a burst of green light.

“Well,” she said to the disinterested baby, still suckling contentedly, “Has anyone ever had such a birth night as you managed? Paratiti? Renebti?” she called, “I need some help with the baby!”

The door inched open and after a moment, her older sister peeked around the edge of the panel, white knuckled, eyes wide as saucers. “Are the Great Ones gone?”

“All gone. Come meet your newest nephew,” Tyema said proudly. “Come and greet Seknehure.”

Chapter Three

The day had been unseasonably hot, even for the desert. The air carried an unusual, oppressive mugginess and the slight breeze gave no relief. Sahure found himself gazing at the skies to the south often as he went about his duties, expecting a sandstorm. None had come. Late in the afternoon thunder rumbled and the skies darkened but there was no rain, either. Although he had no appetite, he forced down his dinner, eating in his quarters rather than with his men tonight, and then tried to concentrate on the reports the scribes had given him, but it was no use. He felt jumpy, restless, as if he was about to go into battle. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled, as if someone or something was sneaking up on him, but he was alone in the room.

Pushing the scrolls and tablets away with a curse, he left his office and walked along the elevated walls of the fort, pausing to speak to each sentry. When he reached the southernmost wall, he stared in awe at the towering gray and green clouds in the distance. Massive bolts of lightning arced from the clouds to the ground.
We’ve been here for nearly nine months and I’ve never seen such a display in the sky before.
Pulling his billowing cloak a little more closely around him, Sahure marveled at the unseasonal chill in the air.

“Never seen the sky so angry before, sir,” said the corporal next to him, echoing his own thought. “I heard lions roaring earlier.” He fingered his sandstone amulet nervously. “What do you think these strange omens mean?”

“Whatever the sky and the lions are foretelling, we’ll be fine.” Sahure hid his own misgivings and clapped the man on the shoulder. “No wind or storm can breach our stout walls, and the wings of Horus always protect us.”

Cowhide shield on his back, a soldier toiled up the ladder to the walkway, saluting as soon as he saw Sahure. “Sir, there’s someone here to see you.”

Surprised, Sahure checked the sky again, noting the position of the moon as it emerged from a bank of clouds. “At this hour?”

The man caught at his cloak as the winds whipped the folds around his body. “The lady said it was urgent, sir, said she had to talk to you, so the guards at the gate let her in.”

As he left the walkway and headed toward the gate, Sahure found himself thinking of Tyema, even though he knew it was impossible she was the guest. When he walked up to the fort’s heavily guarded entrance, he saw Menkheperr and Iensesu the town’s headwoman, standing together, as his men struggled against the wind to close the pedestrian gate they’d opened to allow the elderly woman entry. Wrapped in a fringed blue shawl, she looked as if the slightest wind could carry her away.

Where are her sons? She never comes here alone. Walking against the winds must have exhausted her.
“What brings you to my gate on such a night, my lady?” he asked her. “Is something wrong in the village?”

“The goddess bade me to seek you out,” she said, striding away from the gate toward the officers’ wing of the fort’s central building. Surprised at her vigor when she usually limped and moved with the caution of fragile old age, Sahure hastened to catch up. Gesturing at the ominous skies, Iensesu added, “This turmoil of the heavens is on your account.”

Startled, not sure what she meant, he took her elbow to guide her over a rough patch in the parade ground. “Won’t you come to my quarters, out of this infernal wind?” Glancing over his shoulder, he said to his second-in-command, who was following them in case any orders were to be forthcoming, “Menkheperr, bring us some wine, please.”

Iensesu didn’t add anything to her pronouncements until Sahure ushered her into the safety of his office. She allowed him to take her cloak as she said, “The goddess sent me to tell you there’s a battle raging, one affecting you and those you love. You should be there, not here.” Her voice was also stronger than usual and he felt she was standing taller than normal.

Reacting to the almost accusatory note in her words, he said, “Forgive me, my lady, I don’t understand.” His thoughts flew to Tyema again and with a curse he took a deep breath and cleared his thoughts. “A battle?” Setting her cloak over the back of a chair, he walked to shut the door.

“Combat of a sort,” Iensesu agreed. “But as you lack the power to be in two places, I’ve been sent to watch over you this night.”

Amused at the idea of the elderly priestess attempting to defend a seasoned warrior like him, Sahure grinned and turned to make some properly appreciative remark to humor her. He liked Iensesu. He stopped in his tracks, the breath leaving his body in a whoosh.

The Great One Sekhmet stood in the center of his office, not the stooped little chief of the town. He blinked, astonishment flooding over him, but the goddess herself was definitely in his office, staring at him from her glowing amber cat eyes. Clad in formfitting red robes hugging the curves of her voluptuous human body, curious rosettes of gold at the shoulders, she was barefoot. Her shapely arms ended in the deadly paws of the lioness. On her leonine head, atop an elaborately dressed wig, she was crowned with a golden sun disk, the symbolic uraeus wrapped around the glimmering diadem. Red and gold sparks of light flew from her crown as she regarded him. Leaning on a staff crowned with papyrus buds, her expression was unfathomable. Slowly he went to his knees, arms crossed in respect.

“I’m honored, Great One.”

“I would taste the beverage you offered, had I more time to spend with mortal concerns,” she said, tilting her head, feline whiskers twitching. Her sinuous tail curled around her ankles.

 
“I fear until my man gets here with the wine I requested, I’ve nothing suitable to offer one as lofty as yourself.” He hoped she wouldn’t take offense. Sekhmet was renowned among all the Great Ones for her sheer unpredictability.

“No matter. I meant to take you by surprise and can’t complain at my own success.” She waved one paw, claws half extended, and he thought he heard what might have been a cross between a growl and a chuckle, deep in her throat, as if she’d read his thoughts. “To business, mortal. My sisters are taking part in the battle on your behalf tonight, the combat of which I spoke,” she said. “I’m here to intervene for you.”