"By day write with your fingers; recite by night. Befriend the scroll, the palette. It pleases more than wine"
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.
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Their kas were drifting in a stream of nothingness, placid and comforting. They had slipped through their plane of existence all the way to an island of culture and grace, punctuated by bloody battles between warrior-dancers and bulls. Bill enjoyed the mythology of the Minotaur, sure that some remnant of Tauron culture had been retained over the centuries, which was a source of quiet pride.
Laura pointed out that the last "Tauron" she knew of personally had died over one hundred thousand years ago, and coincidence was a better explanation. For her part, she was fascinated that twelve worlds could maintain one theology through the centuries (other than some outliers) but here, it seemed like there was a different belief system every few hundred miles.
It was sweet to whirl through each other's mind, learning all the feelings and visions that were so hard to share when all they had were words. If there had been any tactile sensations, any human warmth, it would have been perfect, joined this way. They each were beginning to miss the feel of warm air on their skin, the touch of a hand, a shared kiss. Their kas ' glow seemed to dim as time went on.
"You think it might be time to go back?" Bill couldn't suppress the hopeful note in his thoughts.
"Hmm…are you getting any indication of how they're doing?"
"I can try." The grey ka pulsed slowly as he searched their plane for a familiar emotion, an intangible something that felt like Senenmut. The pulsing was steady for a minute, then slowed.
"There's a new warmth in him. Kind of…loving but protective."
Laura gave a satisfied hum. "So things are still going well for them, it sounds like."
"No…I mean, probably, but this isn't about her. It reminds me of how I felt when I imagined being a father, what it'd be like to teach my son or daughter how to fly a Viper."
The lavender ka flashed in turn, slowly at first, then speeding up. "This isn't good. I'm feeling love, too…seems to be focused on Senenmut but there's someone else. There's a lot of anger and worry on her part. And some sadness, some loss."
Her glow dimmed a bit. "I'm not sure I want to go back for that."
"If she's in distress, I'd like to be close, maybe try to give him some guidance. C'mon, let's see what's going on." He swirled around her. "Besides, it doesn't seem fair to just join them for the happy parts."
"You're right, of course, but I want to get a feel for what's going on before we join them, though. I want that much, at least."
"That's fair. We can do some recon before we make a decision," he said.
Laura took a last look at the temple she'd been exploring, noting that the bare-breasted snake priestess had a familiar jawline.
She wondered if Lee had ended up having children, and if the Adama DNA was strong enough to last a hundred thousand years. Her form quivered with amusement. Bill would love the idea of that. She let the thought flow over to him, the movement of their forms syncing again as they prepared to return to the plane of the living.
The young girl running through the side hall of the palace was disheveled and none-too-clean. Her kilt was slipping at the waist, her hands were stained with ink, and a mixture of honey and garden dirt smeared her face. One sandal went flying as she burst into the Great Hall, pulling up short at the rank of Royal Guards arrayed between her path and Hatshepsut.
"Step aside, Captain." Hatshepsut looked over the child, who now seemed to be on the verge of tears. A heavy frog-faced man, with bulging eyes and puffed-out cheeks waddled into the Great Hall as fast as he could, attempting to scurry and bow at the same time.
The girl looked between her red-faced pursuer and the stern woman seated in front of her. The woman wore a false beard of gold and enamel and held the signs of office, a gold and blue crook and red flail, crossed over her breasts.
The girl burst into tears and covered her face with her hands.
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Hatshepsut turned to her chamberlain. "The portraiture is over for the day, it seems. Dismiss the artist and give him a royal token for the disruption." She glanced at the young man standing in front of his easel, the blue-tipped brush in his hand halted a few inches away from the stretched linen. His face mirrored the confusion she felt emanating from the newer members of court. "We will try again another day."
She nodded solemnly to the artist, the movement making the side straps of her ornamentation rasp against her cheeks, then turned to her chamberlain again. "Send for my maid as well. I would retire to the inner chamber and have these accoutrements removed before I attend to this other matter."
Senenmut, sitting quietly to one side of the throne, had looked up from his scroll as soon as the disturbance started. "Lady, what takes place here?" He shot a sympathetic look at the young girl.
Her lips quirked. "You've said on more than one occasion how you looked forward to meeting my daughter."
Senenmut raised a curious eyebrow, then schooled his face again to the impassivity favored at court.
"Neferure!" she called to the child. "Stop sobbing, child, and come with me and Count Senenmut. We'll see if he can think of a remedy for your distress."
The frog-faced man still sputtered, arguing in low tones with the captain of the guard.
"Chamberlain, tell Khamet that it appears he is not a suitable tutor for the princess. Fine him a month's salary for allowing her to burst into my presence in such a state, and bid him seek other quarters as well as other employment."
The Lady of the Two Lands resisted the impulse to scratch her chin, now itching under the false beard as she stepped down from the throne and made her way to her inner chamber. Senenmut followed, his scroll rolled neatly in his hand. The captain of the guard walked behind, one hand holding an ornate bronze spear, and the other holding the sticky hand of Neferure, Princess of the Two Lands.
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Hatshepsut chafed at the slowness of her new maidservant. "Bakt, the fastening is at each side." She held still for another clumsy attempt. "The side, I said!"
"Forgive me, Great Lady. I've not dealt with the royal beard before." The young woman's voice was humble but a side glance told Hatshepsut that Bakt was feeling put-upon by her duties.
"I rarely deal with it myself, Bakt, yet I have learned its ways, as it is part of my requirements of office."
She vowed she would send a lavish offering of the season's best fruit and a flagon of wine to Mandisa's tomb. Perhaps her ka could be tempted to guide this one's awkward hands.
Slowly, the heavy false beard and its scratchy center of goat hair was removed and placed back in its coffer. She hoped the royal painter had captured enough of its likeness to forgo viewing it again…at least, on her person.
The heavy double crown was lifted off, and for a moment she missed Mandisa's gentle cool touch so much, she felt like joining her daughter, letting tears streak her face. Finally, enough of her official ornaments had been removed so she felt she could breathe freely again.
"Neferure? Where are you, daughter?" Hatshepsut asked as she realized the chamber had gone quiet.
"She's right here, Lady. The Princess wishes to review the granary reports." Senenmut's voice was full of good humor. She turned in her chair to see her daughter and her beloved studying his opened scroll, the child reading the inscriptions as he ran his finger over the words.
"The Princess has vanquished another tutor, it would seem." She gave him a rueful smile. "That's the third one this season."
"Really?" He regarded the little girl seriously. "What is the Princess's complaint?"
Hatshepsut's heart warmed as she watched them together, Senenmut's gentle questioning drawing out the child's accounts of boring lessons and her tutor falling asleep in the afternoons after too much wine with his midday meal.
He is good with her. He would have made a good father.
Her belly twitched as if sensing her pang of sadness. Her courses has ceased early, soon after Senenmut came to her, as Mandisa told her had been the case with her own mother. Not that there weren't days when she was quite sure she had several children, each named Neferure, and each spinning in a different direction.
"Great Lady, I believe you may have a budding scribe on your hands. The Princess has a good hand with a reed." He beckoned her to the table to show her the inscription Neferure had inked.
"Senenmut, that's an official document of record," she said warningly.
"I know that, Lady…is it not one of my own reports?" he retorted.
Neferure was looking up at him with adoring eyes already, as he spoke up for her to her royal mother, Hatshepsut noted.
"I've kept her from Court for good reasons, Steward. Reasons I'm sure you can understand. She now needs a tutor to instruct her in palace life, as well as her studies." She chewed on her bottom lip, unwilling to discuss her daughter's situation in front of her any further.
"Is she of interest to others at court?" he said quietly.
"One other in particular, yes."
"You mean my brother, the Prince, Great Mother?" the child piped up, brow knitted.
Hatshepsut's heart sank. "You've…met Prince Thutmose, my daughter?"
"No, Great Mother, but Khamet spoke of him often, and sometimes drank wine in his apartments." Her daughter's dark green eyes were free of guile as she described her tutor's relationship with her half-brother.
"No worries need trouble you, child. I would have you study some more with Count Senenmut for the moment. I need a word with the captain of the royal guard."
She mouthed "keep her busy" to her beloved, then turned to find her guard. She doubted the frog-faced tutor had left the palace yet. He was the type who would want another meal, another flagon of wine at Pharaoh's expense. She hoped he had enjoyed it.
It would very likely be his last.
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"It was the little girl. That's where his feelings are coming from," the gray ka said with a pleased tone.
"I should have known her feelings were around her daughter and that step-son of hers."
"She didn't talk much about her daughter when we were here before, did she?"
Laura's ka turned ruddy for a second. "She was distracted by her and Senenmut becoming lovers, but the thought of her little girl, Neferure, was never out of her mind. It was like…it felt safer to have her at a distance."
"That's gotta be hard."
"It was. And now she's terribly guilty and afraid she's handled things all wrong. She let her guard down."
"He'll need to be there for her in ways he doesn't even know yet," the gray ka observed.
"It's still so hard for her to give over some of her burdens. She misses being able to talk things out with Mandisa."
The forms floated together in silence. Finally, they pulled apart. "I think we could help, Laura. And…I'd like to feel what he's feeling again."
"I'll be able to really see how my baby girl has grown. It doesn't seem that long since I was with Hatshepsut when she held her the first time."
"Ready?" he asked.
"See you on the other side, Husker."
Their shapes touched a final time, then disappeared.