Shiri (35 page)

XVII

Meira approached them nervously. They were walking idly through the gardens speaking softly, the slave’s head resting on his shoulder. Hand in hand again.
They were always hand in hand.
A twig broke and she saw Shiri turn, the shepherd girl’s smile faded when she saw her. The high priest turned with her. Meira curtsied for him but his smile disappeared too.
He always used to have smiles for me. He has smiles for all my people.
“What do
you
want?” He said harshly.

She’s told him. Told him what I did to her.
She felt her eyes water with shame and self loathing
. It was your wife, she made me … made me do it all. It was all an act don’t you understand?
She looked over her shoulder anxiously. It had taken all her courage to come, if her mistress discovered, it could be
her
skin at the end of the switch. “Lord Yuya you … you have to leave Heliopolis.” She looked about her again, half resembling a fawn on the edge of flight. “You have to leave right now.” She reached for his arm and tried to pull him forward. He shrugged her off.

Shiri wrappe
d her fingers tighter about his. “Why did
she
send you here?”

“She doesn’t know! You must come … you must come at once!” Meira reached for the slave this time
, but Shiri recoiled from her as if she had the plague.

“Don’t you touch me. Don’t
you ever touch me again.”

The high priest stepp
ed forward a little angrily now. “You heard her, Meira. Go back to your mistress. You’re not wanted here.”

Meira fell to her knees. “Please m’lord! Please! You’ve been so good … so good to my people. You must listen, there’s no time! They’re here already she tells them all!” She turned to Shiri, tears in her eyes now, “I … I didn’t mean it! I didn’t. I swear I didn’t … I had to please her … if I didn’t she’d … she’d … please you must run! You must while you still can! You must!”

Shiri looked suddenly anxious; she took a knee beside the slave. Meira stared into her eyes. “I’m sorry … Shiri … I’m so, so sorry.”

Shiri bit
her lip. “I know,” quickly she rose and turned to Josef. “She tells it true we must…”

“Meira!” Tjuya’s voice reverberated around the gardens like the screeching of a hawk.

Meira spun her face a mask of sudden horror,
so soon!
The brothers from Thebes were at her mistress’s side. All at once, she was on her feet clapping her hands in delight. “Oh please let me stay, m’lady! I want to watch! Let me help! I can get my switch and make dogface bark!” She ran to her mistress, giggling and hoping up and down excitedly.

Tjuya glared at her angrily. Get out of here, Meira. The slave pouted before nodding and moving quickly away. Tjuya rolled
her eyes at the man beside her. “I swear that Habiru is getting stupider by the day.” She didn’t notice her bodyslave changing course and hurrying in the direction of Old Solon’s villa.

Josef looked from his wife, to Smenkaure, to his father’s murderer and back again. “What have you told them, Tjuya?”

Tjuya stared back. “The truth, my love … just the truth.”

“Your Habiru is to die.” Smenkaure said. He glanced from priest to slave with a look of disgust. “And your bastard’s crown is forfeit.”

Josef spun to his wife in disbelief. She met his gaze with a hate filled smile. “Your precious daughter will be put to death, or sent into exile if her husband cannot bring himself to give the command,” she shrugged. “I’m sorry, my love, you left me no choice.”

“No!” Shiri made to run at the woman and rip her limb from limb. Josef held her back.

“And the babe,” Smenkaure’s mouth twisted briefly with distaste. “Yet another Habiru bastard,” he turned to Tjuya, “what was the dog’s name?”

Tjuya’s
eyes did not leave her husband. “Amran,” she said confidently.

Shiri gasped at the lie. “No! It’s not true! The child is trueborn! Amran … it was nothing …
nothing but a child’s kiss, he…”

“Even now does the whore spout lies and falsehoods,” Tjuya said wearily. She turned to the
ghaffir
, “I saw Tiye and the Habiru boy rutting like rabbits with my own eyes. I would have told all then but my husband threatened me with fist and flail.”

Smenkaure nodded, “As you say then. The babe must be put to the sword, even Pharaoh himself will admit as much.” He turned to the priest and stretched out his hand, “Now … give me the slave.”

Josef stepped forward. “No.”

Smenkaure made an impatient gesture. “Stand in my way if you will, it makes but one difference; I’ll kill you first then take her all the same.”

Josef shook his head. “You’re wrong in that,” he parted his robes ever so slightly revealing the leather bound hilt of a kophesh. “It means she’ll stay. It means you’ll bleed.”

The Companion laughed.
“What kind of priest keeps a sword under his robes?”

“One who knows how to use it.”

The
ghaffir’s
laugh dissolved into a menacing scowl. He slid Montu from his sheath and pointed him at the priest’s chest. “Getting a blade in the gut is not a great way to spend an evening, priest. I know many men who’ll attest to that.” He moved fractionally closer, “Now, I give you one last chance. My fight is not with you. Step aside or defy the written word of your king and name yourself traitor,” he grinned, “Montu savours traitor’s blood most of all.”

Josef didn’t move. He heard Tjuya speaking. “Please my darling, listen to him. Stand aside, the whore has deceived you as she deceived us all. She murdered Pharaoh!”

“We’ll go to the Wildlands … we’ll all go to the Wildlands, Tiye, the babe, all of us, we’ll have no more to do with Egypt…”

Tjuya moved a little closer. “The Wildlands? It’s too late for that, my love. She cast the slave a venomous glance. “The only freedom in store for this one is the freedom of the
grave. And as for your daughter…”

“There’s no need to shed blood,” Josef tried.

“There’s every need,” Smenkaure said. “There can be no bastard pretenders to the throne.”

Tjuya seemed to contemplate something. She moved in, bringing her lips to her husband’s ear. “Be thankful, that’s all I’ve told him … Josef, Prince of Shepherds,” she kissed his cheek, “I can still save
you,
my darling. The choice is yours. Just stand aside and once your whore and her bastard are dealt with we can be together again. Already, is our trueborn son first lord of Akhmin and he seeks to rise higher still … we could see him become vizier one day … and we … we could rule together in Heliopolis for years to come. You would sacrifice years of happiness and success for your whore … for your bastard?”

“I would sacrifice everything for them.” He shoved her away, causing her to laugh almost hysterically. Smenkaure nodded to his brother and it all happened at once. Narmer moved on Shiri. Josef drew his blade and stepped between them. Smenkaure met him with Montu. Josef lunged. Smenkaure turned the strike, and in one skilful motion swivelled and fisted him across the jaw. Josef fell to all fours. He heard Shiri scream. She launched herself towards him. Narmer grabbed the slave and twisted her arms painfully behind her back. Tjuya stood there half in shock.

And then Josef was on his feet again. He wiped a little blood from under his nose, glanced to where Shiri and Narmer struggled and made to go to them. Again Smenkaure blocked his path. Josef watched as Narmer smiled at him before licking the slave’s face from chin to cheek, and attempting to slide an adventurous hand under her skirts. Josef dove at Smenkaure again. Shiri screamed and struggled as their blades clashed. Lunge, parry, counterstroke, it was so quick she could she could barely see the movements. But she did see Josef fall again, blood was streaming down his arm this time.

He rose more slowly now. And then he came at the
ghaffir
a third time. Smenkaure parried the blow dismissively. Josef stumbled past him and the Companion’s blade grazed his back. More blood flowed and again Josef stumbled and went to ground. Shiri heard Tjuya shout something. It sounded a little like, “No leave him be!” But Smenkaure paid no heed. He sent a booted foot into his side and the priest was put on his back. Smenkaure was standing over him now. He’d barely even broken a sweat. But Josef was breathing and bleeding hard.

Smenkaure smirked down at him, “If you value your life best stay down this time,” he
glanced in Shiri’s direction, “Away,” he said before turning for the archway. Narmer began to drag her after his brother. But then she heard her Shepherd Prince stutter her name. She saw him struggle to all fours, watched a trembling, bloody hand fumble for his sword.

He found his feet and on shaky legs surged forward all blood and anger. He came at Smenkaure from behind and for a moment Shiri almost dared to hope. But Smenkaure was ready for him. He caught the blade on his and shoved Josef back. And it was then that Shiri realised those first few clashes had been but play. The first Companion of Pharaoh flew at him, his sword a blur. Two, three, four gashes spurted blood about Josef’s face and chest, he was forced to one knee. Smenkaure’
s voice echoed across the court. “I’ll not tell you again, priest, stay down. The slave’s life is forfeit.”

Josef looked to Shiri and firmed his jaw. Somehow, he gathered his legs under him, his blade still in hand. He swung it weakly, almost drunkenly. Smenkaure dodged the clumsy blow with ease and raised Montu for the final strike. And then it happened. Shiri half felt half saw something streak past, mere inches from her face.

Smenkaure grunted as the arrow took him in the shoulder. He reeled backwards, tripped and fell. In an instant Josef was on top of him. Smenkaure struggled to raise Montu to protect himself but Josef met it with all his weight and the blade crashed from the Companion’s hands. Blood spurted about the Companion’s head as the priest’s kophesh drove home cleaving the side of his face. Smenkaure loosed a roar of pain. He tried to reach for Montu but Josef kicked the blade away. The Companion grimaced again and met the priest’s eye neither asking for, nor expecting mercy. A moment, Josef hesitated. Smenkaure spat blood on the priest’s leg, gritting his teeth against the final strike. “Finish it, traitor … finish it or prove you lack a man’s courage.”

Josef took a breath and lifted his sword to end it. Shiri felt Narmer’s grip loosen, felt herself being flung to the ground as the man surged forward. Josef’s back was turned. She started in horror.
It’s all happening again!
She saw Amenhotep on the ground, the Shepherd King on top, driving his sword down for the final blow, saw Narmer lunging at him, her Lady in his hand. “Josef!” she screamed! “Look out!”

In slow motion she saw him turn at her shout, saw him realise the new threat. And then, rivers of blood as he ducked under and thrust forward his blade taking Narmer in the chest. A moment, Narmer stood transfixed. Shiri saw Lady fall at their feet and watched as Narmer followed her down, dead before he hit the ground.

She saw Josef meet her eye, saw the beginnings of that grin, saw an eruption of blood at his lips. Shiri mouthed a silent scream as he fell to his knees. The cursed blade buried deep in his gut. She saw Smenkaure rise as Josef went down.

The Companion pulled Lady free and stumbled back. The arrow in his shoulder was weeping blood, his face, a mess of sundered flesh and bone. In blood drained daze he let the sword fall jerking his head back and forth, searching for the hidden archer but seeing nothing. He glanced quickly to his brother’s corpse and back to the priest groaning at his feet, “
Lie here and bleed,” He said slowly before turning and hobbling quickly away. For a moment, Tjuya stared at her husband’s trembling, bloody form before taking a step backwards. She spun around and hurried away.

Shiri rushed to Josef’s side and fell to her knees beside him, cradling his head in her hands. He opened his eyes and stared up at her. He made to speak but only blood passed his lips, he wheezed and gulped for air, found her eyes and tried again, “Shiri … I … I’m … sorry.”

She shook her head, her tears falling like rain. She passed her eyes over him, his body a blurry vision of mutilated horror.
Gods no … oh gods no!
Her hands were shaking violently she found them desperately fumbling about the gore of his ruined chest and stomach, vainly trying to stop the flow of dark, almost black blood, “It’s alright,” she said again and again, “Solon’s coming … Solon’s coming. It’s going to be alright.” She meshed her bloody fingers with his and felt him squeezing back. She raised her head. “Solon! Solon hurry!!” She looked towards his villa but could see no sign.

“I … I’m sorry, Shiri
,” he said again, he seemed to choke on the words, “I’m sorry … for losing you.”

“Josef, no, no, don’t say that oh, Josef,” her words were s
obs now, desperate, animal sobs. “You … you never lost me … never.”

Red bubbles were at his lips. His eyes seemed ever more unfocused. He gagged and choked on blood, she felt his grip weaken. His eyes closed. She held his head to her breast rocking him back and forth, crying
, just crying. She heard someone running towards them and then Old Solon was standing above her, bow in hand, breathing hard. He had a second arrow already notched and waiting, “Solon!” she screeched, “Solon save him!”