Shadow of the Sun (The Shadow Saga) (37 page)

The distress of this meeting weighed heavily upon me. “This may not be the right path for me, Netri. I do not think they will welcome me. Let us not invite trouble.” Pentu and I climbed into our palanquin. I was disappointed when my father did not respond. He mounted the palanquin in front, deep in thought.

Our carriers passed an old stone block temple nearly buried in the ground. “Pentu, where are we going?”

“To the Oseirion. And which world does Osiris rule?”

“The underworld,” I replied; every schoolchild knew that. “He is the Deity of Resurrection. Set tricked him into climbing into a sarcophagus and then chopped him up. “Is there an easier way to resurrect ourselves?”

“To honor Osiris and earn the role of High Priestess, you must spend three nights in an enclosed sarcophagus in the Per Neter at Giza,” Pentu said.

“No, I could never do that! No one could survive without air or food.” I cringed and felt faint. I placed a hand over my chest to calm my heart.

“You must pass this test before you can rule. There is no other way.” “Why did you not mention this impossible undertaking before Father hatched his plan for me to become the first Osirian High Priestess?” My voice caught in my throat.

“I chose not to frighten you.”

He had failed. I was frightened. Our ride ended. Standing before an ancient open temple, I saw that crude masonry was very primitive compared to our modern temples built by my father. Yet the ethereal simplicity awed me. The three of us, my trinity, entered the great hall filled with exquisite hieroglyphics, a tribute to the resurrection place of Osiris. Immortality. I glimpsed the magnitude of my heritage and felt unworthy.

Each step signified the past, the present, and my future. The three of us ambled through this inner sanctum toward the doorway. The configuration of the stars of Orion sparkled above the center of the rectangular stone altar. We approached with worshipful hands crossed over our collar bones.

Someone had arrived before us.

The High Priest of Osiris meditated near the side altar laden with flowers, incense, and loaves of bread. Darkness arched overhead like an ebony roof. We greeted the High Priest. His pale skin matched his white sheath. A jeweled collar ringed his neck and sparkled like his inviting smile, letting us know he welcomed us. Even though we disrupted his ritualistic duty, we exchanged pleasantries expressing that we, too, came to greet the Orion configuration and offer prayers to Aten. Pentu, using the familiar Khemitian form, acknowledged this man as a dear old friend. My father clapped him on the shoulder and turned his attention to the stars. The High Priest lifted his golden scepter starward.

Netri knelt before the cold altar, hands clasped, eyes cast skyward. He uttered the Sacred Praise to Aten. The High Priest recanted the ancient texts of Osiris, gripping a replica of the Ben Ben stone, a small triangle made of meteorite. He thrust it upward, the stone pulsing in his hands like a potent magical token. I felt my protective token hidden in my sheath. The High Priest’s eyes fluttered as he received a powerful cosmic transmission.

Opening his arms to the Aten, Netri’s face seemed relaxed yet expectant, his breathing deep. The stars of Orion progressed into position commemorating this event.

Desiring to join in, I enacted my ritual dance and sent humble blessings to the Aten. Unable to quiet himself, Pentu shuffled while the High Priest performed his sacred ritual. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a wisp of black smoke sucked into the miniature Ben Ben stone. A cold chill ran down my spine. The High Priest touched his scepter to his Ben Ben stone and took two steps closer, stretching to touch his scepter to my shoulder.

“Stop!” exclaimed Pentu. He threw his full weight, knocking the High Priest to the ground. A scuffle ensued. Pentu and the High Priest rolled over and over. The High Priest fought with the strength of a wild boar and beat our physician with his fists.

“How dare you?” accused the High Priest. “You will destroy the integrity of this fraternal bond by allowing a female into our fold.”

“Unhand him, Priest. I command you.” Netri brandished his own staff, ready to strike.

The priest only strengthened his hold on Pentu’s throat. Color drained from Pentu’s face, and he flailed. I clasped the moonstone. I cried out in my thoughts to Sit-Amun.
You promised no one will hurt me or my family.

A black orb shot out of the moonstone and hit the High Priest, knocking him backwards. The man’s head bounced on the stone floor with an eerie thud. The ominous cloud withdrew from the stone triangle, and pierced the heart of the fallen man. With a violent shudder he died the next instant.

“Pentu, my brother,” said Netri. He pulled the physician to his feet and stroked his face.

“The High Priest tried to kill me,” I said, then broke into convulsions.

“I saw him cast a magic spell into his scepter.”

“If he had touched you, you would have perished.” Netri scooped me into his arms. “I thought his alignment was to the Aten. Forgive me, daughter.”

“Sire, I believe his allegiance is to the Amunites,” said Pentu as he knelt.

“Look here. He wears the mark of Amun.” A tiny black tattoo of the ram’s head appeared on the bottom of the High Priest’s foot.

“Here in Abydos? We were assured of the Osirian Temple’s loyalty.”

Netri shook with anger. “Was this a plot all along? I cannot believe they predicted we would dock here.”

“Sire, we must leave here at once,” advised Pentu.

“We do not have enough provisions to continue on, and the barges were sent up river to hide them. We had planned on resting here for a week,” said Netri.

“You are correct. The Imhotep is not due with our next mode of transportation. It could be another fortnight or two before he arrives. By the time word gets to him, it will be too late,” replied Pentu.

“Keep everyone inside. Trust no one,” said Father.”

I killed the High Priest. What have I done?
All I wanted was to bring peace to Khemit. I should throw that moonstone away. Instead, I slid it back in my pocket.

“Y
ou must get up,” said Meti. “We will depart once our effects are loaded. Our best chance will be to leave before the sun has even thought of rising. Let us pray the Amunites have not converted others at this temple.”

Our guards escorted us down the long steps toward the water. My shoulders hunched and I strained to see through the thick of the night. I grasped Meket’s hand. Sit-Amun promised that the token wouldn’t allow anyone to hurt me. Maybe she had lied and assassins lay in wait.

The wind rustled past my ears, making me certain I heard another opponent secreted behind the next pylon. Would more priests surround us before we could flee? I reached into my pack, making sure my new token lay safe within.

My heart beat so loud I couldn’t hear over it. Terror, dense and dark as the night, enveloped all. Something evil pulled the covers over us, restricting the inhalation of the pure breath of freedom. We scurried closer to the shoreline, yet I couldn’t differentiate the outline of any boat. Then it seemed as if the ebony curtain of the night lifted to reveal an amazing sight.

“Oh, Imhotep, you are a genius,” Meti squealed.

“This is most wondrous,” said Pentu.

“Imhotep is the Master of All Architects. He will be rewarded,” replied Netri.

A flotilla of river vessels with the largest sails ever constructed awaited us. The sheers curved gently and elevated toward the stern, ending in an extended finial. Bright red and blue slapping streamers were attached to it. These boats had deckhouses with glass windows. Sixty rowers stood at attention, their paddles upright. Two large steering oars hung over the sides.

Once again, we were separated for protection.

“Your Majesty, Merit-Aten, you are assigned to the northern boat with the checkered red and blue sail,” directed the captain in his royal sailing uniform.

“I wish to be with my mother or father.” My voice quavered.

“You heard the boat pilot,” reasoned Meti. “There is a plan and it must be followed. Do as he asks.”

I moved to hug her.

“Really, Merit-Aten, we do not have time for your persistent neediness. I have babies who must be put to bed. We are under threat of attack. Move to your own boat or clear the way.” She stormed past.

Netri ambled up behind me. “What worry has consumed you? Our grand sailing boats have arrived, and we shall have a safe haven,” he said. My sense of foreboding grew in strength, and I did not feel comforted.

“Your Majesty, allow me to sequester you in your private chamber,” said Pentu as he aided my father up the ramp.

“I shall be fine, Pentu,” he responded, and chucked me under the chin.

Like the restrictive bandages of a mummy, darkness shrouded my wounded pride. The survival of the royal bloodline forced us to divide. Would we find our way back together? I surrendered and took my place.

“Merit-Aten, you should remain in the dockhouse with the windows closed to ensure your safety,” instructed Amaret. “I heard the Amunites have infiltrated this temple. The guards found the High Priest murdered. We have shared rituals with him on many occasions.”

I neglected to tell her about the moonstone. Here I was, again keeping secrets about Sit-Amun.

“The Hanuti must know their plan failed. They will send more assassins, so we must use our senses and keep constant vigilance to survive.”

“I am sleepy.” I wanted to hide, to feel safe. I yearned to see what good magic I could create with my token, and, for that, I needed privacy.

“Very well, I shall take the first shift. You take the second,” said Amaret. I called out to the Aten. Like hunted gazelles, we dashed for our lives.

Even as Khemit’s royal family, there was no assurance that we’d build our new city of the Sun, let alone ever find the new location. No one else had the courage to carry the shield of light into battle except my father.

So, why did his destiny have to be mine? When did the path divide between parent and child? I didn’t want this constant threat of assassins.