In This Life (17 page)

After the last soldier passed through, I excused myself from my table in need of fresh air. Although the night was warm it was not uncomfortable and, for once, a cooling breeze blew through. At the edge of the granite balcony, I closed my eyes and relaxed under the gentle wind, allowing the effects of the wine to quiet my senses.

“It is a magnificent night, is it not?”

I did not need to look to know who had joined me. His voice warmed my blood as much as the wine did. “It is,” I said to Kemnebi. “And the restfulness it offers seems out of balance to the trials that are coming for Egypt.”

Kemnebi nudged my arm and when I opened my eyes he held up two cups of wine, offering me one.

I hesitated.

“It is from my vineyard,” Kemnebi said in an attempt to sway my decision, “which Pharaoh sees fit to drink from quite often. In fact, those at his dais are among the only ones tonight who are enjoying it. I would like you to enjoy it, too.”

He offered the cup again and moved in next to me on the balcony. The wine looked as rich and red as the darkest pomegranate, with three blue lotus petals floating on top. I took the cup but did not drink.

Much to his credit, Kemnebi did not try to sway me again. “What a remarkable view,” he said instead, taking a sip and then one more. “The temple seems to glow with the newborn moonlight, does it not? Even the Nile glitters, as if filled with shining jewels.”

I nodded but it seemed all I could do. I was having a hard time focusing on the view, the wine, even the night itself. His voice stole every thought from my head. Had command over every reaction in my body. It seeped through me and merged with me until I no longer felt we were two people but one.

I moved away, needing space. This, whatever this was, felt dangerous and wrong.

Kemnebi glanced my way, the trace of a grin playing on his lips, the darkness in his eyes drawing me into a place I had never been before. A place that harbored secrets and promised danger.

A place I had to avoid.

Kemnebi moved in closer and I stood motionless. His eyes scanned my hair, my face, my lips, and went lower still.

“My lady?”

The moment Kemnebi and I shared shattered, and in silence I thanked the gods for the intrusion. I straightened, put my cup on the granite ledge and turned to my servant, Kesi.

“I am sorry to interrupt, my lady. Pharaoh is summoning you.” She looked from me to Kemnebi and back to me again, eyes alert and as if she were putting this moment into memory. “Shall I tell Pharaoh that you are detained with someone else?”

Her accusatory tone and critical eyes made me pause. “No,” I said, and without looking back, I returned to the Great Hall. My brother was talking with several soldiers near the dais and when he saw me, he motioned for me to join him. As I approached, Bakari appeared from behind and we walked toward the dais together. My brother snapped his fingers and several attendants banged on wine jugs to quiet the crowd. Once the room hushed, my brother stepped up on the dais, commanding the attention of everyone there.

“Promising occasions such as tonight can only serve as a prelude of others to come,” he said. “So it is with great pleasure and delight that I announce the upcoming marriage of my sister, Princess Shemei, to General Bakari.”

The room erupted into applause and my brother looked down at Bakari. “All the more reason for success in our next battle, General, because now, more than ever, you have something to come back home to.” He raised his cup in salute to everyone in the Great Hall. “To Shemei and Bakari!”

A chorus of hundreds echoed his toast. “To Shemei and Bakari!”

Bakari and I kissed and wove through the celebration to make our exit, stopping along the way to accept everyone’s good wishes and for Bakari to grab a jug of wine hidden behind a flowered column. I laughed when he presented it to me. No night with Bakari could ever truly be special without stolen wine.

At first, I thought we would head back to my chamber but the gods seemed to have other plans. We bypassed the royal court and climbed over a steep hill, heading for our secluded sanctuary by the Nile. Re had long since descended in the sky, which was now filled with thousands of gleaming stars, some of which looked as if they were falling right to the ground.

“I wonder what that means,” I said, sitting down on the thick grass and pointing to one that blazed in a bright, burning arc before disappearing altogether. “Why would the gods throw themselves across the sky like that?”

Bakari sat down beside me, popped the seal on the wine jug, took a long sip and handed it over. “Maybe they are happy and cannot sit still.”

I drank some wine and smiled at the thought. “A good omen, then, for Egypt.”

Bakari took the jug and put it off to the side. “I was thinking more of a good omen for us. And for our life together after I return from this next campaign.”

He pulled me on top of him, slid off my sheath and molded the two of us together. His skin felt hot, his body ready, and when he slid inside me we both stilled.

“From childhood you have been everything to me, Shemei,” he whispered. “Only now, more so. For all of eternity, you will be here.” He pressed my hand to his heart.

We made love under the stars that night, languorous with each touch, impassioned by each promise made, stopping only to quench our thirst with stolen wine before taking pleasure in each other once again.

Later, after we were spent, we dressed and paid homage to Re and his Immortal Barque as it ascended into a new day.

Bakari took my hand in his. It was time for him to leave for war.

Another emotion rushed in to follow, this one filled with grief and sorrow. Flashes of other images also came, all fleeting and raw.

I was racing through paths and alleyways and over roads and hills, converging with thousands of other Egyptians with the same goal in mind. The mob shouted out for all our glory, and down the sphinx-lined avenue, I spotted the royal litter with my brother seated in its center, the war crown steady on his head.

My servant, Kesi, was at my side, standing on her tiptoes, her cheeks red with excitement. “They are coming! They are coming!”

The first division of soldiers arrived, and the other three divisions descended over the sandy hills just behind. Chariots filed in on either side of the avenue, displaying the gold and armor and weapons and jewels acquired from the campaign.

I forced my way through the chanting crowd, needing to be up front, wanting to see and hear and share, firsthand, their victory. My brother scanned the mass of people from his litter and smiled when he found me, but his smile looked weary and bittersweet. His victory, it seemed, did not come without difficulty.

As the divisions continued marching in, I looked for Bakari. I leaned forward, trying for a clearer view, and felt someone tap my shoulder.

It was Kemnebi. My gaze dropped from his drawn, fatigued face to the object he held in his hands. It was a sword. A jeweled honorary sword.

“I am sorry, Shemei,” he said, handing it over. “Bakari did not make it home.”

The memory slammed shut like a heavy door and Galen’s image slid back into place.

“You are Kemnebi,” I said, testing the name out for the first time, and it felt awkward on my lips. “You’re who I’ve been seeing all this time, as Kemnebi.”

Galen nodded.

Too many questions came at me, all demanding answers at once. I tried reining in the rambling thoughts, trying to figure out what to ask next, and then next, but the harder I tried, the more overwhelmed I became.

“How is it that I can I see these memories but David can’t?”

“Bellotti is not ready, so he does not understand.”

“But he and I were lovers once, just like you and I were. Why can you and I see this? And why do I see this now, at this time in my life?”

“I do not know, Shemei.”

I went to the photos of David and me on the fireplace mantle and fingered one of the two of us at Crested Butte when we went skiing last year. “He’s turned you down three times for a spot on his team. Is it because of something that happened in the past?”

“He does not trust me.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” I said, facing him. “Is it because of you and me?”

Galen took his time to respond, and in those silent seconds, he seemed to struggle with admitting either the words or something deeper still. He glanced away and swallowed, and I realized he was battling guilt. And a lot of it.

“Yes,” he admitted. “Bellotti’s feelings about me exist on a level he can’t quite grasp. It is definitely because of us that he does not trust me.”

“But he doesn’t know.” I motioned to the space and the world around us. “No one seems to know. Or understand. Why?”

“That I cannot answer. Why does one person understand the entire cosmos while another can only appreciate the moon? Why does one man see energy in a storm while another sees destruction?”

I thought about the things I knew, about the emotions and thoughts and actions of a lifetime so long ago, and felt a sudden loneliness. If I couldn’t share the excitement over learning about it with David or Lori or Paul, then what was the point in knowing at all?

I looked to Galen for the answer and found it in his eyes. They beckoned to me, hinting of mysteries I wanted so desperately to understand. If no one else could give that to me, then I had to pursue it from the one person who could. I was determined to find the truth.
My
truth.

I walked to Galen and, instead of settling on the sofa beside him, lowered to my knees at his feet as if it were a natural and commonplace thing to do.

“What were we to each other?” I asked.

“We were everything that was good,” he said with slow, measured words, “and everything that was bad.”

There was something in his voice that sounded sorrowful, even contrite. I felt drawn to that pain, wanting to know why it existed and where it came from. I wanted to understand it because that pain, I knew, linked to me.

I reached out to him and touched his cheek. His skin was hot under my fingertips, like the sun that blazed over Egyptian sands. He drew in a sharp breath and held it, and his restraint emboldened me into further discovery. I caressed his face and wandered to his shoulders and across his well-developed chest. His shirt, I realized, was the same texture and color as my dress. A luxuriant, dark brown linen.

I moved to his arms, which felt lean and hard, and down to his hands. They were strong but I knew they could also be gentle. I remembered how they touched me and pleasured me. How they embraced and stroked, tormented and teased.

I became lost to the images of the two of us, tangled in soft, linen sheets, straining for release, reckless and distracted and uncontrolled. The rich and, by now, familiar scent emerged. The scent belonged to us, I realized, of when we were one.

In my head I heard his voice. The tempting, alluring lilt in the way he spoke. The calming effect his words had on me. The way he encouraged with promised whispers and soft murmurs.

I moved to his hard thighs and higher still, wanting more, needing to feel more, to remember more.

“Shemei,” Galen said over a ragged breath. “You have to stop.”

He grabbed my hands and pulled them away but my lust lingered. I was overheated and overpowered and all too aware that my intentions, curious and innocent as they may have begun, now hovered on something that could turn very wrong.

And then another voice cut in. “What the hell is going on here?”

The moment splintered under David’s absolute and potent displeasure.

Galen withdrew to stand near the end of the sofa. I looked up at David and found myself on the receiving end of a punishing look that wanted any excuse for release.

“It’s not what you think,” I said in an attempt to diffuse his temper and its aftermath if left to run unchecked. “But I need your open mind again, David.” I unfolded from the floor and stood. “Can you do that?”

He considered my request and me, and sent Galen an unspoken but all too clear message.

Galen picked up on it right away. “I found your wife at Amrose,” he offered in explanation, and David didn’t react to the mistaken assumption he made about our relationship. “I didn’t receive any message that our meeting had been canceled until it was too late, but she received a phone call that upset her while I was there. So I followed her home to make sure she was okay.”

“Galen shares my memories, David.” I rushed to his side, hoping he’d join in my excitement. “It’s exactly as I told you. What I remember was real because it happened. It was a part of another life, a past life between you and me that Galen was a part of, too.”

David didn’t say anything.

I used his silence to my advantage. “I lived as Shemei, and Galen lived as Kemnebi. He served under you when you were a General. You and I knew each other since we were children, just like we did in this life, David. We were going to be married, but then you went off to war and you didn’t return. And then Kemnebi and I had a relationship after your death. These memories are real, David. They really, truly happened.”

But as much as I tried to convince David, I could tell he’d already shut down. And I shouldn’t have been surprised, either. Galen had been right on point when he made the comparison of one man understanding the cosmos while another could only appreciate the moon. For whatever reason, David was not meant to share in this revelation and that saddened me.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” I said, because overly long silence from David never meant anything good.

“Perhaps I should leave,” Galen said.

I held up a hand and stopped him. “No. It’s okay.”

Galen regarded David and interpreted his silence as a command. “I think it would be best if I did,” he said, starting for the foyer.

David stepped in front of him, blocking his path. He had a few inches on Galen as well as more muscle, and he used his stature for outright intimidation. Galen, however, did not back down.

“I don’t trust you,” David said, and the menace in his voice and on his face became all too evident. “I’m willing to let it go — this time — and that’s only for Lottie’s sake. But give me any reason to question you again,
any
reason at all, and I will have you permanently removed from PROs. Is that understood?”