Warrior of the Nile (The Gods of Egypt) (8 page)

BOOK: Warrior of the Nile (The Gods of Egypt)
12.51Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

An audible hum of conversation went through the mostly male audience. Taneb leaned over. “Imremy told me she usually dances for the nobility at their private parties, sometimes at the temple ceremonies, and only at the best inn as a rule. She’ll cost you a pretty portion of that gold, unless, of course, you choose to pay her in some other, mutually agreeable fashion.” He winked again and Khenet restrained a burning impulse to punch him.

The woman who walked out onto the floor was not tall but she projected the air of a queen. Silence fell as she arrived. A maid removed the billowing red cloak from Ankhmenet’s shoulders and stepped away. She had a dancer’s slender build but her breasts were ample, barely restrained in a fine, semi-sheer linen bandeau. Her wig was elaborately styled, with golden turquoise beads and coral ribbons, topped with a tiara that held perfume-infused wax. Colored wisps of scarves floated from her golden belt, down around her thighs, offering enticing glimpses of her jeweled loincloth. Layers of bracelets on her arms made chiming noises as she walked to her chosen spot.

Fixing her eyes on Khenet, she began to tap one bare foot on the floor, elevating her hip sensuously each time. The tempo of the music slowly increased and she undulated her hips in time to the beat, before lifting off into a dance around the room that grew faster. The music pounded and soared with her, as she varied her steps, now quicker, now slower. Tiny finger cymbals added their music as the dancer raised and lowered her arms in seductive gestures. Scarves drifted to the floor periodically as she removed them during the course of the dance.

Khenet sat, acutely aware of Tiya by his side. He didn’t dare look at her. It was obvious to him and every other man in the room that Anhkmenet felt she was dancing for him, seducing him. She was exactly the kind of woman he’d enjoyed back in Thebes: uninhibited, well formed, sensual. Imremy had found the right entertainment for him.
Or rather
,
for the man I was before meeting Tiya.
Khenet knew Ankhmenet expected him to share a night of passion with her, ending with rich gifts for the pleasure of bedding Zauimu’s premier dancer.

Ordinarily, he’d be planning ahead how to separate her from her musicians, working through the details of their assignation. Did she have a room of her own nearby? Could he rent a room at this inn? But he felt nothing. His pulse didn’t race, and his cock didn’t stir, no matter how sensuously the dancer writhed. His thoughts were all of Tiya, picturing the two of
them
locked in the kind of embrace Ankhmenet was invoking. Such a thought—Tiya’s slender body naked in his arms—did send blood to his shaft, and he hastily looked away from the dancer to choke down some wine.

The finale of Ankhmenet’s performance brought her to stand directly in front of their table. All her scarves were discarded and she wore only the semi-sheer breast band and the tiny thong. Her body glistened with sweat. Strong perfume scented the air from the wax that had melted into her wig, releasing its aphrodisiac effects. Keeping her gaze locked on Khenet’s face, she performed slow undulations, sinking lower and lower as she finished her final moves, until she gracefully collapsed with her head down and her arms extended to him, palms up.

The room exploded in applause, shouts and cheers. Coins hit the floor like hail. Setting down their instruments, the musicians scurried to collect the harvest.

Taneb looked from Ankhmenet to Khenet and back. He hastily uncurled, gently pushing away the serving girl in his lap, and stepped around the table to assist the waiting dancer to her feet. She pushed him away with an angry gesture and cocked one hip provocatively at Khenet. “Was the dance not to your liking then?”

“You dance beautifully, better than the best in Thebes,” he answered, coming to his feet. “You’ve honored the gods and us with your performance. I’ll place substantial gold in your coffers.”

She eyed him up and down, her gaze lingering on his crotch before returning to his face. “Payment does not have to be in gold. We could go somewhere else and discuss...my dance, if you like.”

Tiya stood, put her hand on his arm. “Khenet—”

He didn’t look at her but covered her hand with his own and squeezed gently. “Yes, we must be getting back to the ship.”

Recoiling, Ankhmenet stared rudely at Tiya. “You prefer this—this stick of a
girl
to me? You
are
a fool.”

The hovering innkeeper looked from the dancer to the soldier anxiously. Shrugging, Taneb staggered off with the woman he’d been fondling, heading toward the stairs to the rooms above. The musicians gathered their things and stood around uncertainly. Khenet dug into his belt pouch with his free hand and brought out a heavy sack that jingled with golden deben. He handed the bundle over to Imremy. “For our dinner, for the entertainment.”

Anhkmenet grabbed her cloak from the waiting maid and swirled it around her body, hiding all her physical charms. She glared at them as Khenet pulled Tiya from the room and into the fresh night air. He settled her plain brown wrap around her shoulders, then they strolled down toward the dock.

Tiya kept glancing at him. “If you—if you want to go back and apologize to her—”

Khenet kept his gaze fixed on the
River Horse
, far down the quay. The cool night air brought some relief to his aching arousal, helping him push away the visions of himself and Tiya tumbling into the narrow bunk in her cabin. “Why would I want to do that?”

“I just meant, I’d be safe enough on the ship, I’m sure. Taneb keeps a night watch on guard. You could take one evening off.”

Khenet looked back up the street at the inn and shook his head. He gazed down into Tiya’s eyes with a smile. “There’s nothing—
nothing
—in Zauimu that could tempt me away from your side.”

* * *

Flattering.
Tiya strolled beside her imposing guardian and couldn’t help but smile at his words and his actions earlier in the evening, refusing the dancers in favor of keeping her company. She touched the hippo-and-flower necklace as they began the climb the gangplank from the dock to the deck of the
River Horse.
“Can we stay on deck just a little while?” she asked. “The sky is so clear tonight and the goddess Nuit has laid out her finest array of stars.”

He steered her toward their private sitting area at the bow. “All right, but I’ll not let you get chilled by the night air. Just a few minutes.”

“I don’t have the opportunity to admire the stars often,” she said, leaning on the rail. “My father’s household kept early hours in Thebes. I used to sneak out onto the roof at night when I was little, to see the sky. Until my nursemaid caught on.”

He smiled. “Who’d believe what a rebellious streak you hide under the beautiful façade?”

“Anyone who knew me as a child.” She laughed. After a moment of silence, she cleared her throat and launched into the question she’d been reluctant to ask him till now. “Khenet, how much
do
you believe in the teachings of Egyptian religion?”

He looked at her sideways but answered readily enough. “I believe, my lady. After all, I’ve seen the Great Ones at work, met them in Pharaoh’s company. And we’ve both met Nephthys, to our regret.” His smile was twisted, his expression grave.

Tracing a knothole in the wooden railing, as if this were an idle conversation, she pressed on. “And the Afterlife? The eternal nature of a person’s
ka?
Do you believe in that as well?”

He leaned on the rail. “Absolutely. The promise of the
ka’s
eternal nature, of living forever in the Afterlife, of meeting loved ones again, gives me strength. Gives any warrior strength to do what he must.” As he spoke, Khenet sounded as if he were putting voice to these thoughts for the first time, in order to explain himself to her. “We have to carry out our tasks and duties here, in this life, to earn our way into the Afterlife. No shirking, no failure to fully
live
our time in the Black Lands—but that shimmering promise of eternity stands above all else.” He stared at her, eyebrows drawn together, a frown on his face. “Why are we talking of this tonight?” He covered her small hand with one of his and gave her a gentle squeeze. “Are you anxious about what Nephthys does to your
ka
when she...becomes you?”

“No, although I can’t say I enjoy being shoved from my own body. You saw, back at her temple, the pain it causes in my heart as she rips my
ka
out and throws it to the winds. I don’t know what she does with my body while I’m not residing there.” A breeze wafted across the harbor and Tiya shivered. “She said that she and I may have to share my body when we first arrive at Viper Nome. I dread such an experience. To be powerless in one’s own body!”

“We’d best go below decks now,” he said as he reached to adjust her cloak. “I’m to keep you healthy, and the night airs can carry evil vapors.”

“All right.” Obediently she left the bow, walking toward the stairs belowdecks. Fighting back tears that she couldn’t allow him to see, she bade Khenet good night at the door to her cabin. Once the panel was safely closed, Tiya threw herself on the narrow bunk.
He doesn’t deserve the unspeakable Fate the goddess intends for him.
He’s kind and honorable.
He indisputably holds the
ka
and the Afterlife sacred.
He must not know what Nephthys has in store for him.
He’d never have agreed to this assignment.
Drying her damp cheeks on the linen sheet, Tiya fished in her satchel for her hairbrush. Sitting cross-legged on the bunk, she stroked the brush through her long hair in a calming rhythm, thinking through the course of action she was contemplating.
I
can’t save myself from death.
I’ve agreed to die
,
but my immortal
ka isn’t at
stake.
I
will be granted the Afterlife.
I
have to do what I can to save his life and his eternal life.

* * *

Sleepless most of the night, she’d been waiting since dawn for the sound, but still Khenet’s triple knock on her flimsy cabin door made Tiya flinch as she lay under the covers.

“I’m going to the inn to get some breakfast—do you want anything?” he asked.

Swallowing hard, Tiya made her voice a bit thready. “No, thank you. I’m getting another headache—maybe too much wine at dinner last night.”

Khenet opened the door and peeked inside. “Do you need a dose of Taneb’s potion?”

Making a face, she shook her head slightly, staying well under the thin blanket. “No, I just want to sleep. I think I’ll be all right since the boat is moored and steady.”

Khenet moved aside as the cat brushed past him to leap onto the bunk, staring at him while kneading his claws in Tiya’s mattress. “Are you sure I can’t bring you anything?”

“No. Yes, you can bring back some rolls.” Tiya put one hand on her forehead and grimaced, feigning pain.

Backing away from the threshold, Khenet pulled the door closed without a sound, obviously careful not to aggravate her supposed headache. “I’ll check on you later.”

She listened for his steps up the short stairway to the deck and then forced herself to wait a bit longer before pushing the purring cat aside, much to his displeasure, and getting out of bed. Already dressed in her plain blue shift, she put on her sandals, grabbed her coin purse and hooded cloak, then slid the cabin door open one inch at a time. The corridor was empty. Heart pounding, afraid at any moment to be hailed by either a sailor or Khenet, she made her way on deck and scurried to the gangplank.

Taneb was nowhere in sight and the few sailors lounging on deck ignored her, occupied with a game of chance, throwing dice and making bets while they waited to begin the day’s backbreaking labor of fetching and stepping a new mast
.
I’m not their problem
,
thank the gods.
Running down the gangplank, she hurried away from the
River Horse
, glad to blend in with the early morning crowd of sailors, merchants and travelers. She was drawing some attention but her plain garb didn’t attract nearly the interest her fine Theban attire had inspired yesterday.

Relax
,
you look like a servant girl
,
like one of the dozens out to run errands this morning.
Tiya slowed her pace as she left the riverfront district, made herself draw deep calming breaths to slow her racing pulse. Walking through the marketplace she had enjoyed yesterday with Khenet, she fingered her new necklace.

Small though it was compared to the ones in Thebes, the temple of Isis stood prominently on a small hill to the east of the town, its white stone façade gleaming in the early morning sunlight. Finding her way easily through the streets, having marked her destination during the expedition to the market when her plan was little more than a fleeting thought, Tiya arrived in a few moments, only to encounter her first setback. The temple guards at the main gate refused to let her inside.

“Today isn’t a feast day—there’s no special ceremony,” the chief guard said, holding his spear across the opening. “The public isn’t allowed to just wander in at any time. You should know that, girl.”

“But I need to make a petition to the goddess—”

“Go use one of the small shrines along the east wall then, like anyone else.” He pointed and she turned to see a row of humble little altars built close to the main temple.

With a hot flicker of annoyance, Tiya remembered she was dressed as a commoner, not a highborn lady who could gain entry to the first courtyard of any temple in Thebes with no question.
I
can enter the inner chambers of several
,
on my rank alone
. Fumbling with the buttery soft black leather pouch at her belt, she brought out a coin. “Please? I-I need to ask the goddess for help with my sweetheart—”

The other guard reached across to take the bribe, raising the spear barrier with his free hand. “Go ahead then. You’ll find the priestesses in the courtyard, doing their morning ceremonies. You can ask one of them to accept your petition and pass it along to the goddess.”

Other books

God's Mountain by Luca, Erri De, Michael Moore
Black Onyx by Victor Methos
VC03 - Mortal Grace by Edward Stewart
Spartans at the Gates by Noble Smith
Beauty & The Biker by Glenna Maynard
Murder in Steeple Martin by Lesley Cookman
North! Or Be Eaten by Andrew Peterson