Shadow of the Sun (The Shadow Saga) (20 page)

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Authors: Merrie P. Wycoff

Tags: #General Fiction

BOOK: Shadow of the Sun (The Shadow Saga)
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What took you so long?

 

I stared at her in awe. Her pale, nearly hairless body and large alert ears enchanted me. I hoped her kittens would look similar. I bent to scoop her up, but my white ghost scampered through the open wooden door behind us.

 

Oh, do not leave,
I silently begged.
I am not done.
I edged my way between the heavy doors to enter the sanctuary of Amun. There, glowing in the bastion of candlelight, stood the three golden statues of Amun, Mut and Khonsu.

 

The raked sand spread in perfection before them. My footprints ruined it. The Golden Boy waited for me to awaken him. At his feet lay bottles of rare oils, vials of golden powder, holy water, and a beautiful turquoise bowl. I could make a magic potion.

 

I mixed the oils, lotus seed, and powders with my finger in the empty golden bowl. I then uttered the most holy words I could think of from my Morning Bath Ritual. I could only reach the feet, legs and penis of this golden boy set up high on his platform. I rubbed my mixture upon those parts, willing him to awaken. Pouring some golden dust into my hand, I blew with a puff, causing the powder to stick to Khonsu in ugly splatters. I breathed in the fine particles, which forced me to gasp for air. The medicinal gold dust invaded my lungs.

 

Everything took on a distinct clarity. The golden boy pulsated with light. The fragrance of each flower about his neck—lotus, safflower, and chrysanthemum—filled the crypt. Like a wax seal being plucked from a bottle, my spirit popped out of the top my head, yet my feet remained planted in the sand. As light as a feather, I felt I could take wing and fly away.

 

To test the unfamiliar feeling, I willed myself to look into the boy of gold’s eyes. Up, Up, Up, I went. I felt free. His face now just inches away from mine; I kissed his lips, hoping to breathe life into his cold and pallid form. The golden child returned no warmth from my kiss. I felt saddened. Fits of laughter and wild grunts emanated beyond that shrouded door where Amun had consummated with my dead Great, Great Elder Mut-em-wia.

 

Without precaution, I yearned to see inside that room of mystery. As soon as the thought entered my mind, I was pulled right through the layers of thick stone. Yet, only a shrew’s breath before, I had stood outside the locked door and cast a magic spell upon that golden boy. My eyes widened. My mouth flew open. I had intruded into a tempestuous feast of flesh.

 

The fat priests looked like overly ripe melons lying upon their overstuffed pillows. They helped themselves to the trays of delicacies.

 

Naked women covered in jewels and golden chains passed platters of food and drink. Rivers of wine streamed over an upside down silver lotus into multitudes of goblets. Haunting music fueled the inner fires of all in attendance.

 

Upon three golden stages in the center of the room, more statues stood. Amun danced upon the center one, his turgid penis waving to and fro in time to the music. Mut undulated to his right. Her seductive hands moved over her head and down the rounded mounds of her breasts. In the center, the Khonsu boy came to life. I did it! I woke him up. Ptah-Mose grabbed at the little penis while another wrinkled priest tickled the dancing boy with ostrich plumes. The golden boy hopped from one foot to the other. Black kohl antimony streaked down his face. Handprints smudged his beautiful golden body. Sit-Amun held the leash of another crying boy while her lover Mery-Ptah kneeled behind him, his expression filled with ecstasy.

 

“I see blood and destruction. Amun will be torn from us,” Mery-Ptah moaned. His eyes widened with terror.

 

I found the scene so wretched that a blood-curdling scream came out of my mouth. I was sucked back into my body as if catapulted from a sling. Out of the sanctuary I ran, right into the arms of my worried father. He held me at arm’s length. “What happened?”

 

Someone hit me from behind. The golden Khonsu boy pushed me out of his way. I glanced back and our eyes locked. He showed no emotion, whether it be gratitude or rage. Now he would never help me make peace between the Amunites and Atenists.

 

My eyes poured over his body. His penis had turned coppery. The priests had rubbed the gold gleam off that appendage. My Khonsu fled back into the shadows of the cloaked night.

 

Father, flanked by Ra-Mesu and his men, stormed into that depraved ritual. “Who goes there?” demanded The General. The sound of dishes breaking and arguing men interrupted the festivities.

 

“How dare you use your power of the priesthood for such decadence?” shouted my father as he overturned a platter of food.

 

Ptah-Mose scurried to cover his obesity. “This is a private matter.”

 

Father shook with rage. “A private matter, indeed. It seems the sons of the almighty Hanuti have replaced responsibility and mindful prayer with fornication, intoxication, and indulgence. You have forgotten the mysteries and the truth. The very reason why this sanctuary was founded has been lost. Does the Holy of Holies mean nothing to you?”

 

Mery-Ptah disentangled himself from the young boy and reached for a loincloth to cover his sins. Father’s face burned, his fists clenched, and his body stiffened, making him frightening to me.

 

“Whether or not we remember the truth concerns you not, Atenist,” bellowed Mery-Ptah.

 

“Duty allows us to rule over the pathetic men and women who have lost their ability to think for themselves. They look to us to make their daily decisions, not you. How we carry on in the privacy of our inner sanctuary need not be judged by the likes of any Atenist.” The High Priest Mery-Ptah was as arrogant as a ram. The scars from the accident in the red tent still bubbled upon the right side of his face. He walked toward us with a slight limp from his clubfoot.

 

“I thought you Atenists abhorred judgment. Is that not true? Love and compassion for all. Akhenaten, is it? That is the name you have taken in honor of a stage of the sun that no one even remembers,” added Vizier Ptah-Mose.

 

“Judgment or not, you have reduced yourselves to swine rolling in the mud,” said Father. “You do not honor the women amongst you and have blasphemed our children in this orgy of defilement. You have proven yourselves unfit to rule the minds of men. Without purity of heart, you cannot receive the Word of the Ancients.” Father tossed a linen drape to a naked dancer.

 

The force and clarity of his words struck fear in the hearts of all present. They cowered before him and covered themselves in shame.

 

General Ra-Mesu pulled my father away with taurian strength. “We have no need to sully ourselves with this Hanuti filth. Come let us flee this Holy of Holies.” The General pounded his golden breastplate. It echoed through the stone columned room.

 

My head thrummed. The rest of the journey home, my mind became cluttered with pictures. Curse that ghost cat for leading me astray. Was it my fault? I regretted awakening the sleeping Golden Boy. I didn’t even ask for peace between the Atenists and Amunites. Instead, I cast him into a life of misery.

 

 

M
eti stomped her foot. “Please, do not tell me Merit-Aten encountered that evil.”

 

My muscles tensed. Now, my troubles would be thrice multiplied. Father hesitated. “She saw the
Akhmenu
Ritual. Oh, this night took a terrible turn. I would have vacated the vicinity had I known about their dark orgy.”

 

“Akhmenu?” asked Meti.

 

His voice took on a chill as he revealed the sinister secret. “An ancient Amun initiation for young favored boys. The Priests open the channels of young males so they can perceive the future.”

 

Meti cocked her head. “Open their channels? Do you mean by teaching them sacred texts?”

 

“No, by penetrating a young male’s mouth and anus. When the priests release their seed mixed with a hallucinogenic tincture, these drug-induced boys become prophetic.”

 

“This is an abomination. How much of this did Merit-Aten bear witness to?”

 

“We broke down the door and exposed the Hanuti’s ritualistic orgy. Whether she saw anything more than the initial teasings of the Khonsu embodiment, I cannot be sure.”

 

I hid behind Father, wanting to forget what I saw.

 

Narrowing her eyes, Meti asked, “Why did you even go to Karnak? You know the danger of being out during the Festival.”

 

Father winced. “We went in search of a cat and kittens.”

 

“Why would you bring any animal into our home when the Hanuti could cast a spell and have it turn against us? I forbid it.”

 

“Merit-Aten was crying. I tried to cheer her up.” He chucked me under the chin.

 

“She broke my favorite alabaster bowl, so Hep-Mut admonished her,” said Meti, who then stared. I knew I could not deny my guilt.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

L
ater, Meti sent me to my room, and I knew they would continue their argument over last night’s excursion. After Mother’s victory over Sit- Amun, I felt safe and happy. Then I had to wake up that golden boy, Khonsu and upset the Amunite’s dirty ritual. I soaked the cover with perspiration. When Hep-Mut aroused me early the next morning, I woke a bit vexed. I knew I should apologize to her, my beloved caretaker and make her my friend again, forever. But the horror of last night returned and the moment passed.

 

Instead, I asked, “Why must I attend the close of duties of the Opet Festival?”

 

She chose not to look me in the eyes. I wanted to hug her and apologize for my wicked words. But I got embarrassed and didn’t. “Duty calls,” she said, pulling back my covers. “Snout of Anubis, you saw a wicked thing last night. The entire palace knows.”

 

“I should not have ventured into that room.”

 

“The Amunites will pay for this. Imagine that poor boy.” Hep-Mut clucked. “This day should not be too taxing. Just a simple ride up the Nile.”

 

She sang a haunting song of a daughter bidding her mother farewell. It brought tears to my eyes.

 

“Will Grand Djed and Djedti be there?”

 

“Yes, but the Pharaoh’s tooth bothers him. Right now she is urging him to declare his heir, especially after your Meti’s victory over Sit-Amun. The Per Aat feels more urgency than ever, but he refuses.” I yawned and stretched. “Will he get better?”

 

Hep-Mut gently pulled me from my bed. “If he wests, the people must know who will rule the country.”

 

“Grand Djedti Ti-Yee would rule. She is the Per Aat.”

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