Magic of the Nile (38 page)

But even as the comforting thought flitted through her head, she knew in her bones Nidiamhet hadn’t physically placed her in a cave.
 

The ledge shook beneath her feet, vibrating. The remaining flames of the cage danced and settled, before wavering again as another impact hit.
Not an earthquake. As if something large is coming in this direction.
Tyema went to the edge of the stone shelf and awkwardly climbed over, hanging by her fingertips for a moment, gathering her courage, when the next tremor knocked her loose. As she fell, she heard a voice roaring in anger. Stunned for a moment by the impact of her fall, she rolled onto her back and found herself looking into a face from a nightmare—vaguely human, drool dripping from fanged yellow teeth, bulging red eyes glaring at her. Screaming, she backed away, rising to her feet and dodging behind the nearest stalagmite.

Were those tentacles it was waving?
Shuddering, trying to catch her breath, Tyema peeked around the stone pillar, ducking back before the demon could see her.
Even more hideous than I thought.
Trying to stay in the shadows, she flitted toward the next stone formation, tripping on the loose gravel underneath her feet and falling. The ground shook as the demon jumped from the ledge to follow her, bellowing, “I’ll sniff you out, human. It’s been a long time since sacrifices were sent from above, and I haven’t traveled all this way only to be cheated of your sweet liver.”

Needing no extra encouragement, Tyema ran to the next stalagmite, but she could tell from the creature’s pounding footsteps, it was gaining on her.
Maybe it sees better in the dark than I do.
She leaned her head on the rock for a moment.

“I think you want to come out,” the demon said. The echoes in the cave made it seem the creature was right in front of the jagged rocks sheltering Tyema. “Fighting me isn’t the wisest idea right now. My master has been promised your
ka.”

She bit her lip and tried to quiet her breathing.

Lowering its voice and injecting a note of cunning, the creature said, “You’re not the only one sent here by the would-be sorceress.”

Tyema’s thoughts flew to her beloved.
Sahure? But why would Nidiamhet curse him? She wants to marry him, be Mistress of his House. Maybe he found out about her treachery—

A baby’s cry sent chills through her entire body.
Could the wretched bitch have gotten her hands on Seknehure as well? Sent his ka here?

“No, not my child!” She ran from her hiding place in the direction of the sound, all her thoughts on protecting Seknehure.

A tentacle as big as the largest desert cobra wrapped itself around her waist, squeezing the breath from her lungs and she was carried into the air. Kicking and tearing at the scaled appendage as she was lifted from her feet, Tyema came face to face with the demon that’d captured her.

“Where’s my child? Don’t you dare hurt my child,” she said furiously.

The demon peered at her with its rheumy red eyes. “I can speak with many voices, foolish human. The one who sent you here told us you were a mother, for mothers have additional energies my master enjoys feasting upon.” Throwing its head back, the demon wailed in an uncanny imitation of a baby’s cry, rapidly changing into a hiccupping laugh as the demon’s shoulders shook with mirth. “I needed no other snare. A mother will always sacrifice herself for the babe. But there’s no child here, more’s the pity.”

Furious with herself for having been lured out of hiding, terrified at what might happen next, Tyema closed her eyes, breathing a silent prayer to Sobek, the appeal somehow becoming a plea to Mut. Then, opening her eyes again, she spoke to the demon, which was carrying her tightly wound in its tentacles, a few feet off the ground, as it headed toward the glowing light she’d hoped might offer escape from the nightmare. “Please, let me go. The Great One Sobek would reward you richly for your mercy, I promise.”

Blinking its eyes, the demon laughed. “Save your breath, human. I’m a creature of the god Qemtusheb and answer only to him. I’ve no use for rewards from any other being of power.”

“Where are we going?” Tyema grasped at straws, for any information about her fate. Thoughts of the stiletto-tipped feather in her pocket were a slight comfort.
I’d rather kill myself than die at a demon’s command.

Her captor glanced at the cavern surrounding them. “We don’t use this area, not for centuries now. Too close to where the newer gods hold sway. I’m taking you to the current arrival point for sacrifices. Someone is meeting us there. I hope he’s in the mood to share.” The last was said almost as an afterthought. “I’m doing all the hard work, taking the risks, coming here to collect you.” He shook her slightly, as if his current toil was all her fault. “We wouldn’t have responded to this clumsy summons, except you’re a priestess and close to Pharaoh.”

She closed her eyes, sickened at the idea of waiting in the cage of fire forever, sentenced to prison for eternity at Nidiamhet’s whim. The idea the schemer would have failed to gain the power she sought in return for Tyema’s
ka
was small consolation.
The first chance the demon gives me, I’m using the feather to gain my freedom from this nightmare.
Better to be a shade condemned to roam the Afterlife aimlessly forever than a pawn in the grasp of the enemy god.

Chapter Ten

It had been a long night, followed by a depressing day, during which Tyema never once awoke, never stirred from the position they’d arranged her in, not even when the baby was brought and Renebti attempted to place him in her arms. Sahure and the maids bathed her fever-wracked body in cool, refreshing water twice, again to no effect. He found the most frightening aspect of her illness was how still and quiet she lay in the bed.
Almost as if she isn’t really there, this is a doll or a statue, not a person.

He tried to shake off the bleak thoughts as the sundial in the garden outside Tyema’s bedroom measured the passage of hours. Meals were brought and removed. Pharaoh and the queen sent their good wishes. The court physician paid another visit, with no results. Nidiamhet visited twice, although Sahure wouldn’t allow her into Tyema’s presence. Later, she sent a bouquet of flowers Sahure couldn’t bring himself to put in his beloved’s room, sweet as their perfume was. He gave the blossoms to one of the maids, with instructions to destroy it.
 

He knew he was probably doing Nidiamhet an injustice, but more and more the fact Tyema had been stricken with this strange illness at her home weighed on him and the sight of the woman’s beautiful face, perfectly adorned with cosmetics, only produced unreasoning anger in his heart. When asked, Nidiamhet claimed no knowledge of the missing amulet, and later said her home had been searched roof to subfloor with no result. He didn’t believe her report, either.

Finally, as the second night fell with no improvement in Tyema’s condition, Edekh prevailed upon him to seek his own chambers for a few hours of rest. “You can’t do her any good if you fall ill yourself.”

Sahure shrugged. He straightened a wrinkle in the coverlet laid across Tyema’s body. “I’m a soldier, used to keeping watch without true sleep. I want to be here if she awakens, if she needs anything.”

“I must speak plainly, old friend. The chance Lady Tyema is going to awaken grows more slim with each passing hour. The doctor is afraid to speak bluntly to you, but he’s given me a complete report. Whatever ailment she has isn’t going to release its grip on her. You need your strength to cope with the loss, to take care of your son.” Edekh’s face was shadowed in the candlelight. “I pray the outcome will be more positive, but if the gods decree otherwise, you must be prepared.”

Snatching up the half empty mug of wine on the table next to him, Sahure drank. “I feel as if I leave her alone, even for a few moments, she’ll die,” he said in a low voice, barely above a whisper. “I’d admit my fears only to you. Yet nothing indicates she even knows I’m here.”

Edekh patted his shoulder. “I’m sure Tyema herself would be the first person to wish for you to stay healthy. Go, get some rest and return in the morning. Her niece watches for her, the maids are here, I’m sure Sobek must be paying attention. I have a scribe on duty with no other task than to summon you should anything change.”

“All right.” Rising, Sahure kissed Tyema on the forehead and followed Edekh from the room into the outer chamber. “No one is to be admitted while I’m gone, understand?”

“The strictest order will be given.”

And so Sahure sought his own quarters, hoping for a few hours of sleep.

*****

He woke suddenly, feeling as hot as if he was lying on desert sands in the middle of the day. Sitting up in bed, he startled at the sight of the goddess Sekhmet, standing in the center of his room, dressed in a kilt and tunic of her customary red, leaning on a spear, a shield strapped to her back as if she was an infantry soldier. Behind her, in the western wall where he knew perfectly well there was no door, a closed portal glowed fiery orange, as if heated by unimaginable fires beyond. Sekhmet’s cartouche was inscribed in the center in black, outlined by radiant red. With a shiver he realized the goddess had installed a
ka
door in his bedchamber, such as would be found in his tomb, a portal between life and death, a place where his spirit could receive offerings from those who survived him. Inside a rectangular frame, the door had a long, narrow recessed panel, above which was a half rounded molding representing the reed mat used to close most doors in Egyptian homes, other than Pharaoh’s palace. His heart thumped.
Am I to die tonight? Is Tyema?

“You humans can be unforgivably obtuse at times,” Sekhmet said, pointing one clawed hand at him, her green cat eyes gleaming in the reflected light from the uncanny portal. “It’s fortunate for you I count my debt from Kharga as yet unfulfilled.”

Hot desert winds blew around him. Hastily Sahure threw off the linen sheet and put his feet on the floor to rise. “Forgive me, Great One, I don’t understand.”

She unslung the shield and pitched it at him with a peculiar curved motion of her paw and wrist. Instinctively Sahure caught it, realizing as his fingers grazed the surface that while the shield might resemble black and white spotted cowhide, it was actually made from stone, yet lightweight. Examining the sturdy leather straps on the reverse side, he said, “You—you need a shield mate, my lady? Of course I’m proud to stand with you—”

“It is I who will stand with you in battle tonight, if you so desire.”
 

As she eyed him up and down, purring a bit under her breath, tail curling around her ankles, he belatedly remembered he’d gone to bed unclothed. He groped for his kilt at the foot of the bed. “In what combat? Is Pharaoh in danger?”

She came closer, slinking a bit, tail lashing the air as it swished from side to side. “Do you love this woman? Is she your mate or not?”
 

“Tyema?” He wiped his brow, as he realized the room was becoming even hotter. “Great One, I love her with all my heart but she has misgivings, even now.”
 

Sekhmet hissed at him, fangs bared. He recoiled, barely preventing himself from raising the shield in self protection. If a goddess wished him dead, even a magic shield wasn’t going to save him. “You’re a lion, born for great things, as is your son,” she said. Pointing one claw at him, she tilted her head, the pupils in her eyes expanding as if he was prey. Sniffing the air, she said, “Not to rule, for you haven’t the bloodline to be Pharaoh, but to accomplish much, nonetheless. The girl understands your drive to create and build. What she doesn’t understand is that mates must balance each other, fit each other, not necessarily match strength for strength. She fears she can’t help you achieve your dreams, thinks she isn’t lioness enough because she has weaknesses she hides from you.”

“Ema is the world to me,” he said. “Every human, including me, has weaknesses. There’s no shame in that, as I’ve told her. She lies sick in her chambers tonight, out of her mind with a fever for two days now—can you help her? I’d thought to petition Sobek in the morning if she’s no better, go to his temple, force them to let me into the inner sanctum and beg the god on my knees for help, even though I’m not pledged to him.”

Sekhmet made a huffing sound, almost a growl. “She’s not sick. Useless for you to talk to the Crocodile—Sobek has no power over black magic unless it threatens Pharaoh himself.”

Sahure rocked on his heels as if she’d struck him. “Black magic? Ema’s been affected by black magic? How—”

Sekhmet shook her head. “Not my place to explain. But I’ll help, to clear my debt to you. I loathe being in debt.” Baring her fangs for a moment, ears flattening against her skull, the goddess laughed. “And because I relish a good fight.” She pointed over her shoulder at the ominously glowing door. “Your woman battles for her life and the survival of her
ka
in the realm beyond. And all the answers you seek are there with her.”

“Why are we wasting time talking, then?” Sahure laid the shield carefully on the bed and bent to grab his sandals. “I need my sword.”

Sekhmet purred his name, a sound sending shivers up his spine.
Unpredictable, ferocious, bloodthirsty—and apparently my ally in a battle I didn’t even know I was fighting.
When he checked on her, the goddess held a sword, the pommel a golden lion’s head, set with rubies blazing in the odd light seeping from the closed portal. She presented the weapon to him with formality. “Here, forged by me, in the holy fires I control, to be wielded only by a consummate warrior such as yourself.”