Read The Ways of Eternity Page 37

Chapter 29: You Are Not Alone

  As if responding to a secret signal, the priestesses gathered around Maeta's tent fanned out through the crowd, parting it, creating a path leading to Horus. The two priestesses stationed beside the tent lifted its flaps.

  Twelve priestesses emerged, their white gowns and the opalescent stones and silver bells woven into their elaborately braided hair bright against the twilight.

  In each of the twelve priestesses' hands were thin, rounded stones, painted white and tied together with twine. Nearing Horus, they began to swing the stones, causing them to clap together in a surprisingly high-pitched chinging. Like Nahtaeya, the priestesses hands and faces were dusted opalescent. Unlike Nahtaeya, whose long gown covered all else, these priestesses' exposed abdomens were dusted, as well. The priestesses swayed closer.

  Were they to dance? How warm the night was. It must be the heat of the fires. No, they were too far away, and the large ring behind him hadn't yet been lit. Horus took another sip of wine. The scents of lotus and musk drifted to him, and he returned his attention to the women approaching, their movements reminding him of graceful birds.

  Horus bowed his head under the flower petals the priestesses showered over him, perfuming the air and tickling his shoulders, arms, and legs.

  On Nahtaeya's signal, the dancers glided back, taking their positions. The bells' tinkling, the stones' clapping, and the priestesses' low humming were joined by the throb of drums. A warrior stood, lending his voice, almost as rich as Teo's. The dance began, the priestesses' movements, controlled and intricate, almost as nuanced as Nalia's.

  Arcing their arms, twisting and undulating their abdomens, the dancers swayed closer.

  The night wasn't warm, it was hot.

  Nahtaeya hovered the gold pitcher above his goblet.

  "No," Nalia quietly commanded, "bring him water."

  Coolly, Nahtaeya replied, "As you wish, O Nalia." She conveyed the order, and a tray bearing a second gold pitcher and goblet was hastened to her. "O King," she whispered and guided the water-filled goblet into his hand.

  Salty. Not sweet like from the waterfall. Horus wiped his brow and took a deeper drink.

  The dancers knelt and bowed their heads.

  "It's over?" Horus blurted. His cheeks grew hotter. Why had he blushed? Confused, he brushed at his kilt then laced his fingers.

  Tatuuf noted, "An unusual dance from the priestesses."

  "I'll say," Teo murmured.

  What kinds of dances did the priestesses usually perform? And why the change? Horus nodded to himself. Just as the people honored him with a feast, it must be the new dance was created and performed as an offering to honor him.

  Teo jerked.

  Before them stood a young woman with long black hair and startling green eyes. She stared at Teo, glanced at the elder woman beside her, Ankanya, one of the healers Horus had met while in his temple, and bowed to Horus. She began to sing, her voice holding a pleasant lilt, the scalloped silver bells Ankanya played adding to the charm of her melody.

  Horus angled to Teo. "Is she Ankanya's daughter? Do you know her?"

  Teo stared at his hands. "Yes. Her name," he paused, angling his jaw, "is Ia. Taesha-Ia."

  "From your village? But I thought you liked her."

  "Yes. I liked her very much," Teo answered softly. "She's singing for you. Listen."

  Puzzled by the swift redirection, Horus studied Teo a moment more before returning his attention to Taesha-Ia's song, a tale of village life, loved ones parted, battle, loss, loved ones reunited in victory. Nodding, he clapped.

  Returning to the crowd, Taesha-Ia kept her gaze on Teo, who sat motionless, hands pressed together, head bowed.

  Horus touched Teo's wrist and whispered, "If you need to speak with her, go ahead."

  Teo pushed his hands through his hair, rose, and followed her.

  Horus noted to Nalia, "He didn't seem happy."

  There was a long pause before Nalia, appearing deep in thought, replied, "Ia was the woman Teo meant to marry. This is going to be a difficult conversation for both of them."

  Horus ignored the crowd's buzzing. "Difficult? Why?"

  "She still loves him. He still loves her, though he's chosen not to marry."

  "But if they love each other...I don't understand."

  Nalia patted Horus' forearm. "Enjoy this night. Look, the healers are going to sing."

  Though he tried to heed Nalia's advice, Horus found his concentration waning.

  Ashen, Teo rejoined them.

  Horus offered his goblet.

  Teo accepted it without hesitation, took a long drink, and lay back. As if to indicate he wished no questions, he closed his eyes and swayed his head with the singing.

  The festivities continued, evening passing to night. Maeta offered the torch, and Horus, again feeling the weight of the crowd's anticipation, lit the bonfire. Circled by a flurry of seemingly impromptu singing, Horus, with careful ceremony, returned the torch to Maeta then attempted to slip back. His retreat was interrupted by a boy, no more than six, who ran up to him and tugged at his kilt.

  "No, Naltat," the stricken-looking mother shouted, rushing forward.

  "It's alright." Horus, worried by the woman's pallor, gave her a gentle smile before kneeling to the boy. "Naltat, is it? I'm Horus. Did you have a question for me?"

  "Yep. Your eyes are really blue. Did you know that? Anyway, Momma says you're a god and you're gonna make us all free again. That you're gonna take care of us like your parents did, and you're gonna make everything good again. So, are you gonna kill Seht?"

  Caught off guard by the revelations and sudden shift, Horus slid his hand to his mouth.

  Seizing her opportunity, Naltat's younger sister edged forward. "I'm Sisna. You're pretty."

  Unable to stop himself, Horus laughed. "Hm. Thank you for the compliment. I think you're pretty, Sisna. In fact, I think you're all very, very beautiful."

  Sisna took a tentative step closer. "You like us?"

  "I do. Very much."

  "I like you, too. You're a good god." Sisna scooted nearer. "Horus?"

  Their mother covered her gasp. "No, Sisna, you must call him—"

  Horus held up his hand, stopping her, then returned his attention to the daughter. "Yes, Sisna?" he asked, encouraging.

  Chewing her lip, Sisna stretched out her hand, inching her fingers toward him.

  "Did you want to touch me?" Horus asked, and Sisna nodded, bobbing her golden-brown curls. He held out his hand, palm up, in invitation.

  Eyebrows high, lips sucked in, Sisna touched Horus' hand. With a quick inhalation, she jerked back her arm. "Ooh! You're all tingly!"

  Concerned he'd hurt her, Horus pulled in his energy. "Are you alright?"

  "Yes. Can I do it again?"

  Chuckling, Horus nodded.

  Slowly, Sisna spread her hand over his. Her body relaxed. She gave a firm nod. "They're good hands." She snuggled against him, then, seeing her mother's shock, leaned back, searching Horus' eyes for reassurance, and he closed his hand lightly around hers. She gave a peaceful sigh. "Horus? Will you take care of us? Always?"

  Yearning to promise safety, yet knowing he couldn't ensure it, Horus swallowed hard. "I'll do my best, Sisna."

  Sisna beamed. "Good," she said, hesitated, and gave his cheek a peck. Squealing, she darted to her mother. "He's good, he's good, he's good! Can we keep him?"

  Grinning, Horus stood. "Naltat, Sisna, would you introduce your mother?"

  Naltat tapped his mother's arm. "She's Kriia." He scampered off.

  Kriia's hands trembled. "Forgive them, O King. They're just children."

  "I'm happy to have had the chance to talk with them, to have them talk to me. I'm glad to have met them. And you, Kriia." Horus moved a few paces off. How wonderful to be touched. How wonderful to be addressed by his name.

  Sisna, trailing Horus, tugged at his hand, a
nd he again lowered to one knee. "I've decided. I'm keeping you." She gave his shoulder a firm pat and ran off to find her brother.

  Teo stepped from beside a nearby tent. "Not so long since you were like that."

  "I know." Horus returned Teo's half smile. "So, help me up, Big Brother."

  Teo glanced around as if to be certain no one had overheard before pulling Horus to his feet. In companionable silence, human and god moved toward the bonfire.

  "Alright," Horus finally said and rolled his eyes. "I'll give you another nickname. Red Cloak. I'm still waiting for mine."

  "Blue Rose."

  Brows scrunched, Horus tilted his head. "A flower?"

  Teo shrugged. "They grow toward the sun and bloom."

  "Hm. Pleasant enough. Still, roses aren't blue."

  "Unique, like you." Teo cleared his throat. "I, um, I'm not sure if I'll be able to use it."

  "I know. It's alright. You gave it to me." Horus followed Teo to their mats and lowered beside him.

  He had a nickname. And it had a good ring. Blue Rose. Yes, what a glorious day and evening it had been.

  Horus scanned the faces of those nearest. The elder talking with Tatuuf and Petraylia looked up, returned Horus' smile, and nodded. Children waved. Even those Horus hadn't yet met seemed happy to be in his gaze. Though there was sorrow and suffering to come, how wonderful it was to be here now, this moment. The night seemed brighter. Spreading his arms, Horus called to the crowd, "Hear me."

  Those nearest tapped the shoulders and arms of those behind, the gesture repeated till all had turned to him.

  Horus said, "My heart is full. Thank you for all you've offered me tonight, as your king, but not only as your king. As I've moved among you, I've been moved, not only by the generosity you've shown me but by that you've shown one another. I see commitment to a goal among you, yes, but more than this, I see a commitment to one another, your friendship and love.

  "Many of you have said you're honored to be here with me. Let me now say I am honored to be here with you, Nalia's and Teo's family, and by extension my family, as well. This night, a night that will forever live in my memory, I pledge to you my loyalty. I pledge to you my life in service. I pledge my friendship and love to all here and all to come for as long as I am. Just as you are mine, I am, now and eternally, yours."

  There was silence.

  From within the throng was called out, "Hail King Horus! Long may he reign!"

  Others joined, and it became a chant, swelling, building.

  Horus bowed and sat. "Is there more wine?"

  In answer, Nahtaeya drained the water from his goblet and lifted the farther pitcher. "O Majestic King." She held out his goblet, red dancing against its gold.

  The crowd's chants continuing, Horus took a deep drink.

  A strong male voice broke the repetition, "Our king comes for you, Seht! Our king comes to restore what you seek to destroy!"

  As if on instinct, mothers pulled children closer, warriors checked their weapons.

  Feeling a surge of protectiveness, Horus clenched his jaw. Even now, layered beneath the people's happiness and hope, fear lingered. Seht and his followers had shadowed them all.

  The chanting resumed and faded, the people wandering back to their family circles, where they began again their laughing and feasting.

  Tatuuf motioned to the platter off to his left, just laid, heaped with roasted fish and fowl.

  Horus shook his head. "Thank you, but I prefer what's before me."

  Nahtaeya angled close and asked, "Does the sight of it offend, O King?"

  Her breath tickled Horus' ear. He rubbed it. "No, I just don't care for any."

  "As you wish. Then we must discover more of what does please you." Nahtaeya reclined beside him. "More fruit? It pleases you, does it not?" On his nod, she selected and held out to him a large fig.

  Did she mean him to eat from her hand? Cheeks warm, Horus took a bite.

  "Enough," Nalia said firmly.

  Languidly, Nahtaeya sat. "O Nalia, I meant only to offer—"

  "I'm aware what you offer." Abruptly, Nalia stood. "Walk with me, Priestess." She led Nahtaeya away.

  Confused by his disappointment, Horus drummed his fingers against his knee. Finally, he angled to Teo and asked, "What was that about?"

  Teo held his gaze somewhere off in the distance. "Couldn't say."

  "Mm-hm. In other words, ask your mother." Horus studied the two priestesses, Nalia speaking quickly, quietly.

  Korris, passing near Nalia and Nahtaeya, caught Nalia's gaze and gave his head a respectful bow.

  Nalia returned the gesture.

  Again Horus angled, questioning, to Teo.

  "He was a friend of Father's." Grief flashed in Teo's eyes. He rose and walked a short way off.

  Horus sucked in his lips. He should have realized there might be someone here who'd known Arlahtii. He should have been better prepared to offer condolence. But what could be said? What could lessen the ache of such a loss?

  Loss. Teo's father, Nalia's husband. Maeta's son and daughters. Kairn's uncle and cousin, Harsiif's brother and nephew. So many more. How many fathers, mothers, daughters, sons had been killed? How many more would be? Oh, the battles to come.

  Staring out at the crowd, at the beautiful beings who surrounded him, Horus ached with longing to know them, to drive away the fear they felt, to protect them and bring them peace. In battles people die, and you can't change that. You won't be able to protect everyone every moment.

  How many of the people around him now would still be alive when the war was over? Tears came to Horus' eyes, and his stomach lurched. Like Teo and Nalia, the people of the encampment were mortal. Like Kafar, those who fell would cease to be.

  Horus' sight blurred. "No, not now," covering his eyes, he whispered the plea, but the vision emerged.

  Warriors. In a village. People screaming. Horus held out his hands as if to hold back the fists, whips, stone clubs. Seht's emblem, a double lightening strike, one diagonal bolt atop the other, flashed through the slaughter.

  The vision ended.

  Nalia, kneeling beside him, touched Horus' arm. Her voice held concern, "What is it?"

  Blind with despair, Horus grabbed her shoulders. "If I made a bargain with Seht, now, right now, would he stop? Could this end?"

  "You know it wouldn't." Eyes wide, she strained back.

  Trembling, he released her. "Forgive me."

  "What's wrong?" Teo asked, lowered his shoulders, and drew nearer. "Horus, you're shaking."

  The noise of the crowd, so exciting moments before, became overwhelming. Willing his legs to hold him, Horus stood. "I need to rest. I'm going to my—" he pressed his fist to his lips.

  He didn't want a temple, he wanted his hut, his mat, the peace and stillness of the circle on the island, the only sounds the ocean's waves and Teo's snoring. He didn't want the driving heat of the bonfire, he wanted the comforting warmth of Teo and Nalia curled beside him. He didn't want the confusion of fronds but the serenity of earth. Why was it so hard to breathe?

  Muscles quivering, Horus rubbed his forehead. "Will you come with me?"

  Teo glanced at Nalia. "The temple is for you. We have a tent."

  Pushing his hands through his hair, Horus nodded.

  "Horus, if you need—"

  Through the massed maze of people, Horus retreated toward his temple and solitude.

  Sarti looked evaluatively at Horus, passing quickly. "He looks pale."

  "Maybe it's something he ate," Jelal said.

  Korris answered, "Gods don't get sick."

  "How would you know?"

  Their conversation faded.

  Kairn hastened to hold open the temple door.

  Horus darted inside. All his life, Nalia and Teo had been with him, slept beside him. Staring at his new mat, spread in front of the far wall, he sank to the floor by the doorway and
drew his knees to his chest. How was he to sleep without them? How was he to sleep with this tumult of people all around? If he tried, could he poke a hole in the thatching and find the stars?

  Breaking the thatching's tight weave wouldn't help, just give more entrance for the noise, so loud. He lowered his head to his knees.

  Surely, what he'd seen in his vision—surely it wasn't real?

  The noises around him seemed to creep through the slats of the door, trickle through the scant spaces in the roof. Twitching, he covered his ears. He fled the temple.

  Eyes averted, Kairn bowed.

  Horus stared at the horizon. Grey nothingness.

  The acacia, the one that had spoken, he had to go to it, get it to speak again. Falcon, he rushed the wind's currents.

  Not real. But, oh, the screams.

  He landed, transformed, and tore across the island's shore, its sand abrading his soles. Following the cove's semi-circle, he reached the outcropping of jagged stone where cove became cliff and climbed.

  Grainy rock ripped at his fingers and toes, elbows and knees. He reached the cliff's peak and raced on, his arms and legs driving through the tall yellow-striped grass.

  Had he witnessed, through his vision, the torturing to death of men, women, children? He closed his eyes hard, desperate for the images to fade. They would not.

  He sped on, ascending the rise leading toward the waterfall, the turquoise of the lake glimmering then fading. Heart pounding, he leapt into the river, broke its current, and swam forcefully upstream toward the far bank. Pebbles skittered beneath his feet. Muscles burning, he clamored down the steep slope, on and on to the trees. On and on to the acacia.

  Mist glittered over the trees' black bark. Pale green leaves swirled around him. Gaze fixed to the tree standing in the circle's center, he paused, catching his breath, bowed, and entered the stand. Dropping to his knees before the ancient acacia, he pressed his hands to his temples. "How do I bear it? Please, I ask for guidance."

  "Child of Sky," the acacia said. "You must not falter. Do not let those who seek light die surrounded by darkness."

  "I'm afraid I don't have the strength."

  "Then you don't yet know yourself. Your soul is a bird born of light. Plunge your plumes into fire and burn away what would defeat you. Allow tears' water and salt to transform you. Lift from the ashes of despair, transmuting grey to gold, and illuminate the twilight. Harness what you carry within you, the ways of eternity, and you will bridge and stretch the horizon."

  Horus slid down the trunk and laid his head on the acacia's tangle of gnarled roots.

  "Child of Eternity, you are not alone."

  The trees around him swayed their branches nearer. Salty beads of water shimmied down his cheek. Wind touched his hands. The ground seemed to soften beneath him. The stars reached through the mist, twinkling across his hands.

  He kissed the tree's bark and stretched his arms to sky. Falcon, he powered over the island to his family's clearing, their hut, his former home. He dove, fastened his talons through his mat, and lifted, continuing over marsh, over field, back to the encampment. Returning to his form, he landed beside his temple.

  Kairn started hard.

  "Find Nalia and Teo. I want them with me."

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