Chapter 20: Onward
The day began, grey and grim, clouds devouring the dawn. Swallows huddled together, their trilling halted and subdued, the fog pressing close seeming to fill them with apprehension. In the distance, the sea churned, waves breaking hard across the island's shore, shells forced forward, grinding like gritting teeth.
Horus pulled himself up through the gloom and leaned low over his knees.
Antuus crawled close, the gleam of his coat and mane dulled by the overcast sky, the shine of his golden eyes shadowed.
Horus gave the lion's head a pat and lay back onto his reed mat between Teo and Nalia. He closed his eyes and imagined over the island sunlight, pictured it restoring vibrancy to the leaves of the canopy behind him and to the reeds of the marsh to his left their shifting shades of green. Pictured it restoring to the sky and sea their brilliant blues. Restoring to the shore's sand its pure white. Restoring, for a moment, his paradise.
Pressing his eyes, he took a breath. "Glorious Ra," he called silently. "I ask for one more dawning, full of beauty, one more morning of sun before I begin."
Rays fingered through and stretched, pushing apart the darkness. The clouds submitted, dissipating into pale sky.
Sunlight poured over him. The birds burst into song. "Thank you," Horus said quietly, gazing at Teo, Nalia, and Antuus, safe beside him. He rolled his shoulders and stood.
Antuus leapt up, following as Horus made his way to the shore.
The sea had returned to its sparkling blue-green. Horus' gaze traced the expanse, the vibrant pink of the sunrise dancing with the sea's calm undulations.
Antuus crouched, his focus alternating among the egrets along the sand.
"Horus," the waves' serene whispers beckoned.
He waded in.The cool water wrapping his calves, lapping his knees, he lifted his arms, palms open to the half disk of sun against the horizon. "Light of All That Is, I call to you."
The sea seemed to still, the wind to turn.
"Light of All That Is, I send forth my soul for you." He knelt, the water's coolness causing a brief contraction in his thighs and abdomen. "I offer myself to my duty."
The sunlight intensified, spreading over the water. Waves crested around him, sending a splash to his shoulders. He licked his lips, tasting salt. Wind circled, embracing him, bringing the scents of spice and flower.
Horus lowered his fingers through sea to sand. Had the shells and stones that formed this sand once lay on the shore he would reach? Could fears dissolve, like shell and stone? He swayed his hand through the waves, releasing the sand again to the sea, and rose.
Arms outstretched, he inhaled, imagining golden rays filling him. Wind trembled against him. Energy coursed through him, moving from sky to sea. Thought fell away. The energy began to circle, sky to sea, sea to sky, building. A wave crested high, splashing his stomach. The energy released.
Horus' body relaxed. The full circle of sun reflecting across the water, he bowed. Turning to Antuus, lying just out of reach of the waves, he nodded.
Midway along the trail, Teo met them, handing Horus a yellowed pear, its flesh mealy, but its juice sweet.
In a dapple of sun beside the hut, Nalia sat weaving together long, thick strips of mottled reed. Head tilted, she studied Horus. "You're prepared to move the island?"
Refraining from glancing at Antuus, Horus took another bite of pear.
Antuus padded to Nalia, held for her to give his head a pat, and rolled into the shade beneath the hut's eave.
Teo joined them. He laid his hand on the lion's back and gazed out across the marsh.
Horus sucked the pear's core, flung it for the birds to find, and sat. Watching the terns rising and diving above them, he slid his hand to Antuus' paw.
Stroking Antuus' mane, Nalia whispered in his ear. She kissed his head and stood.
Teo gave Antuus' back a firm pat. "You're a good lion and a good friend. We'll," he paused, cleared his throat, and moved the few steps to his mother. "We'll see you soon."
Antuus turned his gaze from them to Horus.
"I can't be selfish," Horus said softly. "I don't know what's to come. Mother will lead you back."
Antuus shook his mane. Staring into Horus' eyes, he fastened his paw over Horus' shoulder and pushed, signaling him to stay.
"Always remember I love you."
Antuus rolled to lick Horus' hand and fastened it between his paws. Dragging Horus over him, he circled his paws to rest on Horus' back.
Cheeks wet, Horus returned the hug. "Mother," he called silently, "you know what's happened and what I ask. Help him understand."
Antuus' ears twitched. A moment passed before he licked Horus' face and rose.
Throat aching, Horus stood.
Regally, Antuus lifted his head and roared. Then, tail drooping low, he trotted to the edge of the marsh, entered its reeds, and was gone.
Horus stared, eyes straining for flash of gold. "Be safe," he whispered.
Osiris' voice seemed to whiz past, "Get going, Son." It was like a bird swooping and lifting again.
"Yes, Father," Horus answered aloud.
Nalia darted her gaze to him. She motioned Teo to follow her, and together they walked a short way off and sat.
Move the island. How had Isis done it? Horus closed his eyes and turned inward.
He lowered his focus to the packed sand beneath his feet, down to the dirt below it, and down, finding sea, discovering his answer.
Visualizing the water under and around the island gathering force, surging against its shores, he suddenly saw a hidden cove at the edge of the mainland. A short way off from the cove was an encampment filled with emblems bearing his mother's and father's names, their symbols like embers glowing against the darkness.
"Seht's found you," Isis warned, voice cracking with fear. "Hurry."
Horus started, joints burning, and opened his eyes. Across the darkened sky flashed lightening. Within the thunder were screams.
A presence, starkly malevolent, drew nearer.
"You." Seht growled. "Damn you."
The force of Seht's voice, filled with cold rage, hit hard, and Horus clapped his hands to his ears against the pain.
"Hear me and hear me well. Since you're a god, I offer you one chance. Bow to me as your king or be destroyed."
Legs shaking, Horus widened his stance. If Seht could destroy him as easily as he wanted it to seem—Seht hadn't pinpointed them. He was trying to gain time. Teo, Nalia. Horus had to get them away, get them to mainland.
"You deign give no answer? Arrogant, just like your mother. And a fool, just like your father. Let me clear your illusions, Horus."
The screaming grew louder, grinding into him, and Horus bent double. No, he couldn't allow himself to be trapped by Seht's tricks. He forced his focus to the sea. "Water, hear me. I command you to move this island to the land I saw."
"Stupid child, you think you can harness such power? Fall to your knees, and I'll consider sparing your humans."
Terrified, Horus' hands went numb.
The lightening cut closer through the blackened sky.
Isis' chants changed to cries, countering the screams within the hard claps of thunder reverberating like strikes against Horus' ears.
Nalia stood up, fear in her eyes, and Teo lifted to his feet beside her.
Seht said contemptuously, "Tell your humans goodbye."
Horus wrenched straight. "Water! Move this island! I command it!"
The ground shuddered, the baskets toppling onto their sides. Nalia and Teo fell backward against the hut.
"Best you can do?" Seht asked, taunting.
Horus felt Seht's energy sweep past, unable to find its target. He took a step back, steadying, and squared his shoulders. "Water, move what you hold!"
Leaves swirled around them. Waves powered against the shore, and mist enveloped them, saturating hair and clothes. The island lurched.
; Steam rolling off him, Horus thrust his hands high. "Onward! I command it!"
The sea swelled, driving against the island, speeding it forward.
He leaned, straining, into the gale.
Light refracted through the mist in sprays of rainbows. Through the rushing wind, birds streamed like banners. From the hills, rocks tumbled, the throbbing of drums. The bending trees moaned a dirge.
Horus shifted his focus, turning it out, searching. He no longer sensed Seht's energy. His shoulders, aching, relaxed. "Water, slow your push."
Lowering his arms, Horus released a long breath. He joined Teo and Nalia beside the hut and scooted near, touching his knees to theirs.
Nalia hesitated and laid her hand across his forearm.
Horus lifted his gaze to her, his heart calming, and noticed her fingers were cold. "It might be warmer in the hut. Though the mist won't allow a fire."
"Teo and I have cloaks. We can wrap them around the three of us."
Voice tremulous, Teo said, "I'll bring the mats and baskets." Rubbing his forehead, he moved to collect them.
Light, oppressed by fog, found the few spaces in the hut's slats but could create only a faint grey glow. Horus coughed against the musk of bamboo, the cloying scent of incense, hanging heavy, seeming almost to seep into him. His body was drenched, yet he felt drained dry. Not drained, hollow. How could hollowness ache? It didn't matter. They had only a short time, and he had to prepare.
The hut's door opened narrowly. The wind slammed it shut. Teo pried it open, and a gust of wet wind circled the hut's interior.
Horus held the door steady while Teo dragged the baskets inside.
Shivering, Teo drew his cloak across his shoulders, its crimson flashing through the grey, and turned to his mother.
Horus brushed at the water beaded over his arms and sat beside her.
Nalia offered part of her cloak, its ivory darkened by the damp.
Horus shook his head. "What more should I know?"
Nalia pulled her cloak around her more tightly.
Was she pale? Hard to tell through the wavering light.
"You need to know the order the people follow, political, religious, and social, as well as what they'll expect of you. Your eyes have deepened."
Horus dropped his gaze and pushed back his hair, absently flicking away the droplets of water that gathered to trail down the edges of his face. "Tell me."
Over the hours that followed, Nalia explained the customs and ranks of healers, warriors, priestesses, the order Horus' mother and father had established from chaos.
Finally, overwhelmed, Horus lifted his hand, calling for a pause. It was so much to learn. But the circumstances demanded he integrate the information now. He nodded for her to resume. When she'd finished, he fastened his hands to his knees. "A mysterious world."
"Indeed, but you must master an understanding of its ways. What do you wish to transpire when we reach mainland?"
"Your advice, Priestess?" Horus stilled his thoughts, turning them from his near failure and fears, to listen closely while Nalia detailed the possibilities and gave her recommendations, leaning in as she instructed him on greetings and form and revealed the ways the people would demonstrate respect. Silently, he repeated, reinforcing the points he most needed to remember.
Teo slipped away, soon returning with a basket of food.
After a short break to eat and appease stiff legs, the lessons continued.
"There are now two matters I wish to make clear to you, Horus, two matters you'll have difficulty accepting but must," Nalia said. "The first. In battles, people die, and you can't change that. You won't be able to protect everyone every moment. If you attempt to do so, you'll only further endanger yourself and those you yearn to shield.
"The second. Though you shoulder vast obligations as leader and must strive to fulfill your duties to those who follow you, each person makes choices, and, while it's right to mourn each loss, you can't allow the deaths of your followers to cause you to falter."
"Then I should order those who are vulnerable—"
"Vulnerability and invulnerability aren't constants, and you need to understand that in fighting for you the people fight for themselves and for their families. There's more to living than being alive. Would you withhold from others the dignity of choice?"
Blinking, Horus spread his hand over his lips.
Nalia continued, "There are those who fight against Seht and would continue their resistance even if you were never to come to them because they'd rather die than allow their loved ones to live subject to the terror and tyranny he inflicts. Your arrival will strengthen their resolve.
"There are those who wish to fight but are too afraid to do so because they know without you there can be no lasting victory. Your arrival will give them hope and bolster their courage.
"Those presently resisting and those who long to resist will turn to you, stand with you, fight to bring you to your father's throne because of who you are and the promise of dawn you represent."
Horus lowered his hand to his lap and was still. "But how can I live up to their expectations? How—" he stopped. He stared at the hut's palm frond roof, the salt in the mist stinging his eyes. How could he bear what was to come?
Nalia nodded. "It's a great weight you carry, but carry it you must. Know this. You already are the king they pray for—because you strive to be.
"Though most who'll join you will fight because of a desire for life without fear, some will fight because of a desire for vengeance. You must recognize the difference and decide if you'll accept it.
"Though most will stand with you because they long for what you represent, some will stand with you because they wish to improve their stations through association with you. You must recognize this difference, as well.
"Whatever your decisions, be wary of those who seek vengeance and those who seek power. They have in their hearts not desire for the greater good but for achievement of misguided personal goals."
Horus shook his head. "I struggle to understand my own motivations. How can I discern others'?"
"In part, by continuing to strive to discern your own. Also, by considering the hidden meanings of their words. Silence can assist you."
Nalia shivered and tugged her cloak over her legs. "Some will test you, unknowingly or deliberately. If it's the latter, it will most likely be done subtly because you are heir to Osiris' throne and a god. I suggest how you choose to respond be weighed against what motivating fear you believe the person holds."
Horus studied her, aware she'd phrased this carefully.
"Another point. Each person you meet, as well as those you don't, will want to know as much as they can about you. They'll measure the nuance of your words, the subtlety of your tone, the length of your silence, the meaning in your eyes. Each gesture will have weight. Everything you say and do will be noted and conveyed to others."
Everything? Horus felt a rush of exhilaration, eagerly fastening to the idea of earning allegiance by what he'd say and do rather than by who he was. But there would be so many people, with such divergent personalities. Suddenly, he felt as daunted as he had standing before the towering waterfall.
No, he'd learn. And he'd continue to have Nalia and Teo to guide him. Still, would the people, as Darkness did, use against him what they observed? Possibly. So, he'd have to find a way to maintain awareness. But every moment? Rubbing his brows, he asked, "And what would this gesture reveal?"
Through the days and into the nights that followed, Horus recited and reiterated, analyzing and assessing, guessing and gauging. He struggled to keep awareness of his wording, tone, and gestures while Teo and Nalia tested and appraised, engaging him in scenarios that would guide him to expand his thinking, to formulate answers where none existed.
"You're prepared," Nalia finally said, nodded, and lay down, Teo copying her. Almost immediately, they fell asleep.
It
was time to bring the island into the cove.
Quietly, Horus exited the hut and secured the door behind him. The pale yellow moon trembled in the mist. The stars twinkled dimly. Strange how far away they now seemed.
His gaze lingered over his family's clearing, their fire ring, their table, Teo's training ground, and then moved to the grasses beyond, the trees, the rise, around to the marsh, across the hills. But mist had transformed all into wavering shadow.
Forlorn, Horus bent to touch the slight indentations marking where he, Nalia, and Teo had laid. Tears filled his eyes. But, no, he told himself. Though his life was about to dramatically alter, nothing of his past was lost so long as he remembered.
A slight change in the sound of the sea caught his attention, reminding him of his task. Yes, the island was drawing close to the mainland, the cove. Oh, he was tired. And yet, he'd only begun to travel the difficult path that laid, narrow and climbing, before him.
He stumbled forward to the flooded shore. Sand and debris from reeds and plants he didn't know clouded the turbulent waves. Lifting his arms, heavy with fatigue, he commanded, "Water, slow your push."
The island turned slightly and, with several small skips, decelerated. After directing the sea to nestle the island in against the mainland, he stepped back, the sounds of eddying water and rustling reeds filling the moments while he waited for the mist to settle.
Only a thin stretch of what appeared to be a shallow stream separated the island from the mainland's thick marsh. He leaned back and gazed, carefully appraising, at the finger of sea. It was a quarter shade too blue. Silently commanding, he drew into it muddy water from around the mainland's reeds until the island's frontmost border was indiscernible.
But was the whole of the island hidden? Falcon, he slipped beyond the settling mist, lifted onto the wind's, currents, and surveyed.
Yes, the island's contours matched perfectly the cove's, masking it as part of the land around it. Satisfied, he landed and transformed. Only one thing more was needed.
He visualized, and mist again rose, lifting in dense layers, obscuring the hills, fading the outlines of the trees, blurring the grasses and marsh, the world he knew disappearing into glistening grey, the concealment complete.
His thoughts drifted to the encampment. Faint, wavering dots of light, resting too low along the horizon to be stars, caught his gaze. Tomorrow, hidden by evening's twilight, he would discover who awaited him.
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