An Evil Spirit Out of the West (Ancient Egyptian Mysteries) (18 page)

Read An Evil Spirit Out of the West (Ancient Egyptian Mysteries) Online

Authors: Paul Doherty

BOOK: An Evil Spirit Out of the West (Ancient Egyptian Mysteries)
11.56Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
I heard the scrape of the barge on the sandy shale and tried to relax, becoming more aware of the tight ropes round my wrist, the gag thrust in my mouth. Another cart-ride, jolting as before. I found myself sliding downwards, so the cart must be moving up a slight incline, probably into the Western Desert. The cold grew more intense. The sound of the night stalkers echoed ominously: a heartwrenching roar, the full-throated hunting cry of lions, followed by the yips, snarls and barks of those who followed this ferocious hunting pack.
At last the cart stopped; I was lifted out. The blankets were pulled away, the gag released and the ropes binding my ankles were cut. I was aware of fire, light, icy winds, starlit skies, dark shapes around me. Then a shroud was placed across my head, sealing me once again in darkness. My breathing sounded for an eternity. I was forced to kneel; sharp pebbles cut my knees. I received a stinging blow across my back.
‘Well, well, Mahu, Baboon of the South. We brought you out here to the desert where so many men’s bones lie. Tell me, Mahu, what happened the night your master went hunting?’
‘I have told you,’ I spluttered. ‘We were attacked by Desert Wanderers, Sand Dwellers, I don’t know! They crept in, loosening shafts through the night. We tried to gather round the chariot. Some were killed, others were driven off.’
Again the stinging blow across my back.
‘Lies!’ the voice snarled. ‘And what else, Mahu? Imri’s death, a keen hunter, a man who knew the Nile and its dangers?’
‘An accident!’ I screamed.
‘So many accidents,’ the voice murmured. ‘What does your master say to you, Mahu? Does he plot against the Divine One?’
‘He tends his garden,’ I retorted, ‘and visits his House of Paintings.’ For one eerie moment the image of that beautiful woman standing by the gate in the torchlight returned to haunt me.
‘People visit him,’ I spluttered. I felt a cut on my ankle, a knife slicing the skin. The cut was so unexpected, the knife so razor sharp, the blood was pouring out before a stab of pain coursed through my leg.
‘We have only just begun, Mahu. We’ve drawn blood, we’ll let it trickle then we’ll bind your feet and leave you here.’
The questioning continued; about the fate of the Kushites, Imri’s death, what my master did – who visited him? The questions came so fast I couldn’t determine who was questioning me; in truth, I didn’t care. My body shook. My legs trembled in a cold sweat. Sometimes I’d drift into sleep; dreams came, memories from the past. Weni lying in that pool, floating face down on the surface. On his back, my pet monkey Bes. In the trees beyond, Sobeck and his lover locked in a passionate embrace, her arms and legs around him, her long hair falling, unaware of the hunters racing towards them. The Veiled One sitting on cushions, his almond-shaped eyes staring at me intently. Queen Tiye slapping me across the face, Isithia dragging me by the hand. Cold water was thrown over me, another blow to my back and the questioning continued. At last I collapsed onto my side.
‘Enough!’ a voice cried.
The coarse-smelling blanket was taken from my head, the bonds on my hands were cut. I was half-dragged across to the roaring fire. A wineskin was forced between my lips, a platter of bread and soft delicious lamb thrust into my hand. I ate and drank.
‘Mahu! Mahu?’
I raised my head. The Veiled One was sitting across by the fire, dressed in a Sand Dweller’s striped robe, the hood pulled back. At his side sat his mother Queen Tiye, similarly dressed, her hair falling down either side of her unpainted face. Beside them was a man who kept in the shadows, his face indistinct, although I could make out a sharp nose, glittering eyes and a bushy moustache and beard. I gazed around: a circle of men protected us, their drawn weapons glinting in the firelight – shields, spears and swords. Others were armed with bows, the arrows already notched. Beyond them another line of men held torches, keeping away the night prowlers, the beasts of the desert. I groaned and took a slurp from the wineskin.
‘I am cold.’ I grasped my ankle. The blood had stopped flowing, leaving an open, aching wound. ‘Why this?’ I protested. ‘What games do you play?’
‘Life and death,’ Queen Tiye retorted, pushing her hands up the sleeves of her gown. ‘You were visited today by God’s Father Hotep, emissary of the Divine One. He sat with you in the hall of audience, didn’t he?’
I nodded.
‘He urged you to reflect about choices, what paths to follow.’
I nodded. The Veiled One sat gazing at me. In the light of the fire his face seemed more beautiful than grotesque, the eyes soft and liquid, the full pouting lips parted in a smile.
‘Don’t you trust me?’ I asked. ‘Is this what we have come to?’
‘We had to make sure, Mahu.’
‘Haven’t I proved my loyalty already? What other evidence do you need?’
‘It’s not about the past,’ Tiye interrupted, ‘but now and the future.’
She spoke in a tongue I didn’t understand to their companion who withdrew. Queen Tiye gestured at me to join them. They moved back from the fire so we could sit facing each other. Tiye urged me to eat and drink, holding the wineskin herself.
‘You can sleep tomorrow, Mahu. Tonight you must listen. I have told you about my son’s birth, the pain, the way he was abducted, kept by the priests and abused.’
The Veiled One snarled as if his mother’s words pricked his memory and boiled the hatred seething within him.
‘Ignored and abused,’ Tiye continued. ‘What the priests also knew, Mahu, were the dreams I had whilst I carried my son in the egg, whilst he danced in my womb. Dreams of grandeur, Mahu, of a Pharaoh who would rise high on the far horizon. Of course I was delighted! I chattered to my husband, the Divine One, who shared this knowledge with the priests. They cast their own horoscopes and Pharaoh became troubled. The priests did not share my joy but whispered about the Accursed, about a ruler who would mete out justice to the other gods of Egypt.’
I stared half-drunkenly back. I never cared for dreams or horoscopes. Aunt Isithia had cured me of all that.
‘You don’t believe us, do you, Mahu?’ the Veiled One demanded.
I recalled my words to Hotep. ‘I believe in the effects of love and hate. Of a child being alone and abused.’
The Veiled One laughed softly.
‘Is that why you brought me out in the desert?’
‘Look around you,’ Tiye urged. ‘Who are these men, Mahu?’
‘Ruthless killers,’ I replied. ‘I ache from head to toe.’
Again the soft laugh.
‘Desert Wanderers, Sand Dwellers,’ I yawned, rubbing my arms.
‘No, Mahu,’ Queen Tiye smiled. ‘They are my people.’
I caught my breath. In the Kap I had heard the stories and rumours, of how the Magnificent One had been captivated by this young woman from Akhmin. How he had broken with custom set from time immemorial that the Pharaoh always married a foreign princess. Tiye was the exception. Oh, how we had giggled behind our hands about her presumed expertise and prowess in bed. Now the laughter seemed sour and unworthy.
‘My family come from Akhmin and soon you shall meet others from my tribe.’
The face of the Beautiful One returned.
‘But for now,’ Tiye continued, ‘we are the Sheshnu, the Apiru, tribes who wandered across Sinai from Canaan many years ago, drawn by the wealth of Egypt, the black soil of the Nile, its fertile crops and the favour of Pharaoh. We have become one with Egypt. Well,’ she shrugged quickly, ‘at least some of us have. Others stay away from the cities, tending their flocks, serving their god. My family have followed other paths. Oh yes, Mahu, I am a Priestess of Min. I have danced and cavorted in his temple before his statue but that’s only on the surface, like grass and bushes carried by the river. The customs of Egypt are like a garment I can put on and off whenever I wish.’
I sat impassive, no longer aware of my aches and pains, the soreness in my ankle, the cold wind, or the chilling sounds of the night.
‘The Egyptian word for mankind is
Remeth
,’ Tiye continued, ‘which is the same word for
Egyptian
. In the beginning, Mahu’ – she leaned forward – ‘Egyptian, Libyan and Kushite were all one, serving the same, invisible omnipotent god. The Egyptians call him Aten, my people Elohim, or Adonai, the Lord. Different names for the same being. He dwells like the air we breathe. He is in us, works through us, sustaining all life yet he is also apart, all-loving, all-creative. That was in the beginning. Since then, mankind has gone its own way and fashioned gods for itself, making them in its own image, slicing the One God like you would a piece of fruit. A God of War, Montu; a God of the River, Hapi; a God of the Earth, Geb; the Sun God, Ra.’ She gestured with her hand. ‘Mahu, this is a time to put aside childish nonsense.’
‘Mahu is not a priest,’ the Veiled One broke in. ‘He does not care for the gods, do you?’
I gazed unblinkingly back.
‘You think I worship the Aten,’ he continued, ‘and so I do. But the glorious Sun Disc is only the symbol, the manifestation of my Father. My dream, Mahu, is to be Akhenaten, the Radiance of the Aten. It’s not only my dream, it’s my destiny.’
‘One other god amongst many,’ I argued back. ‘Even the Divine One pays homage to the Aten.’
‘Ah, yes.’ The Veiled One raised a hand, like a teacher in a hall of learning. ‘We worship the Aten and pay deference to the rest because that is the way things have to be, at least for a while.’ He bowed his head. ‘I know what you are thinking, Mahu.’ His voice became muffled, mouth hidden behind the folds of the cloak. ‘The Temple of Amun-Ra has thousands of priests. Its Houses of Silver are filled with precious stones, gold, silver, amethyst and jasper. The priests own estates and property from the Delta to beyond the Third Cataract. The temples have their own troops, chariot squadrons, scribes, a kingdom within a kingdom, Mahu. The priests determine the rituals and calendars of the year. They dominate every aspect of life. That is true of the temples of Karnak and Luxor. And what about the others – Anubis, Isis, and Ptah in the white-walled city of Memphis?’ He gestured with his hand. ‘Can you imagine, Mahu, what would happen if these temples united against the power of Pharaoh? Think of the wealth they conceal. Legions of priests with a finger in everyone’s pot, feeding the populace from their granaries and stores, the bribes they offer, the people they can buy. They must be checked.’ He glanced up at the sky. ‘The night is passing,’ he murmured. ‘You have been given a glimpse of the future, Mahu, and that future will happen.’ He grasped his cane, rose unsteadily to his feet and helped his mother up. ‘That is why we brought you out to the desert, Mahu. To make certain of you, to bind you closer so you can participate in the sacrifice.’
They left me alone for a while. People came and went in the darkness. More food was brought. I fell asleep, slouching forward. I was shaken roughly awake; the sky was already lighter though the wind was still cold. On a small hillock not far away I glimpsed an altar, fashioned roughly out of stones heaped together, now ringed by those who had brought me here. Queen Tiye and the Veiled One were already before the altar, faces towards the rising sun. My guards gestured that I join them. I was allowed through the circle of men and climbed the hillock. A strange experience: it was unlike any sanctuary or temple court I had ever entered before. No coloured pillars or frescoes, just a sandy, pebble-strewn hill on the edge of the desert. The altar table was a slab of rock resting on others. At each end glowed pots of incense. In the middle stood bread, wine, and a flask of oil, next to a freshly slaughtered kid, its throat cut, the blood already crusted and dried around the gaping wound.
One of the Shemsou pulled the carcass into the centre of the altar. Queen Tiye crumbled incense over it. The Veiled One grasped the flask of oil and sprinkled it liberally, covering every inch. A firebrand was brought; Queen Tiye held it up. She and her son, eyes on the Far Horizon, watched the glow of pink turn a fiery red. The flame of the torch danced in the wind. For the first time in my life I felt I was in the presence, not of something holy, but eerie, strange. These two people standing so fixedly in that silent ring of men. The Sun Disc appeared, a brilliant red glow on the horizon, its light racing out over the desert. Tiye lowered the flame and the offering was consumed in a blaze of fire, smoke billowing towards the sky. The air turned rich with the smell of incense, oil and burning meat. Once the sacrifice was lit, Tiye broke into a paean of praise: her son joined in and the refrain was taken up by the circle of men. A powerful song, it seemed to follow the smoke and flames as they rose to the sky.
The sun was rising fast, turning the cold air warm; the breeze, the breath of Amun blowing from the North, faded in the light and heat of the day. On the makeshift altar the fire began to die. The incense pot and what was left of the oil were poured over it. We stood back until nothing was left but charred, blackened remains, and the magic, the mystery, died with it. We were out on the edge of the desert under the strengthening sun about to face the searing heat of the day. I felt exhausted. Tiye was now issuing orders. The altar was dismantled, the stones being cast aside, the fires doused and, escorted by our retinue, cloaked and hooded, we made our way down to the rich pasturelands and back across the Nile.

Other books

Driver's Education by Grant Ginder
Honorable Assassin by Jason Lord Case
Ragnarok by Jeremy Robinson
Requisite Vices by Miranda Veil
Rags & Bones: New Twists on Timeless Tales by Melissa Marr and Tim Pratt
The Man in Possession by Hilda Pressley
Ghost Story by Jim Butcher
Back From Chaos by Yvonne Hertzberger