Time After Time

Everything has happened before, and everything will happen again . . .

Thebes, Egypt-1292 BC.

Khufu sat astride the huge black stallion. The weight of his heavy armor as he rode under the blazing sun soaked his tunic, causing sweat to pool in the thick dark hair on his chest. His company had been traveling for two days, and he was more than ready to reach his mudbrick home and its cool bathing pool. He was thankful to be a high-ranking member of Seti's army. It afforded him luxuries most common soldiers did not receive. His home was adjacent to the palace, which also afforded him the privileges therein.

Seti I's latest military campaign had been a success, but it had cost Khufu some friends. He was tired of these battles, tired of the days spent on horseback, tired of sleeping on the hard ground. Maybe after a rest he would approach the Pharaoh and ask to leave the military. He could work with the advisors on how to improve life in the city. Yes, he thought, that would be a worthwhile position. I could work on what I want to say, how I can explain my expertise will help the palace, help the city. Of course, it may take some doing, but with the help of the gods . . . I simply must convince Seti. I cannot keep this pace of soldiering forever. The cost—the cost is much too high.

So preoccupied with his thoughts was he, that he failed to notice the company had entered the outskirts of the city. The cheers of the crowd interrupted his thoughts. Waving palm fronds to show their joy at the latest victory, they lined the Avenue of Kings. Somewhere someone blasted notes from a horn, while other soldiers waved and smiled at the women who rushed forward, offering wine, grapes or sometimes themselves. Khufu, head held high, stared straight ahead, his expressionless face as smooth as carved stone.

When they finally reached the palace, he barely waited for the young stableboy to grab his horse before he was on the ground and striding toward his home. By the time he had entered the cool confines of his abode his headdress was off and a servant was already helping him remove the armor. Another servant helped remove the final articles of clothing, including his sandals.

He strode, naked, with purpose to the large bathing area and stepped into the cool, scented water. Immersing himself completely, he rolled onto his back, leaning back against the edge of the bath. He closed his eyes, letting the water cleanse away the grime and memories of the last days. It hurt that his friends fell in battle, rather than ascending to the afterlife with the proper fanfare due them.

He was almost asleep when he heard the soft gasp. Opening his eyes, he blinked them closed, sure he must be dreaming. Standing at the edge of the bath was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. The skin-tight dress covered her from neck to ankle, but also accentuated every curve. Her dark hair fell to her shoulders and her face was devoid of the kohl and red ochre most of the women used to enhance themselves. The two silver bracelets on her upper arms told Khufu that she was a slave. She was holding a tray with fruit and wine, her dark eyes wide in surprise. Seeing his eyes on her, she immediately bowed her head.

"My Lord. Please excuse me for this. I was ordered to bring you refreshments."

Her voice! Slave she might be, but she had the voice of a god. A warmth spread through him, not borne of embarrassment, but of an emotion he had never known. It was like a homecoming of his soul, spirit and body all at once. He was positive not even the Afterlife would feel as wonderful.

Khufu rose to a sitting position, indicating a low table beside the bath. "You may put the tray there." He watched as she moved with the grace of a dancer to set the tray down.

Turning she bowed to him. "Is there anything else, my Lord?"

"Your name."

She risked a look at his face. What she saw there surprised her. She had expected a stern, unimpressed expression, perhaps even a hostile one. But the blue eyes searching her were—what was the word?—kind. A deep blush crept up her cheeks.

"Omorose, my Lord."

His eyes raked over her, mentally undressing her. "Beautiful." The word came out as half groan, half sigh.

Her eyes again widened in surprise. "My Lord?"

Khufu smiled. "Your name. It means, 'beautiful.' It suits you. When did you join my household?"

Again, she blushed, and again he found it charming. "My Lord, I am not of your household. I am handmaiden to her highness, Tuya. The other servants were assigned to attend the Pharaoh. I am deemed not worthy to serve him."

"And why is that?"

She bowed her head. "I have no parents."

Now Khufu understood. Orphans were of the lowest class. He gestured to the cotton towel lying beside the table.

She picked up the soft cloth and put it in his outstretched hand. When he stood, she quickly averted her eyes. Wrapping the cloth around his waist, he stepped from the bath. He walked slowly across the ornate tile floor until he stood within a few inches of her. Using his finger, he placed it under her chin, raising her face to his.

Her beautiful eyes were—why, they were a most uncommon mixture of brown and green!—wide with not only fear but something more. Anticipation? He so hoped it was anticipation. He lowered his head, capturing her lips. She started to pull away, but he encircled her with his arms, drawing her against his bare chest. The kiss had begun tenderly, but as he coaxed her, a passion shot through him like a spear, and it became fierce. Suddenly he felt her fingers tangling in his dark, wavy hair.

Bending slightly, he scooped her up in his arms, carrying her down a hall to his bedroom, still keeping his lips on hers. When he laid her gently on the bed, he stood gazing down at her. But instead of the ardor her kisses promised, all he read was fear. It constricted his heart. Someone had hurt this girl.

Setting beside her on the bed, he took her hand. "Omorose, I will not hurt you. Nor will I take advantage of you."

Her voice was soft and held a tremble. "It is alright, my Lord. I am your servant. Whatever you desire . . . I am used to being—" her voice choked, but she finished by saying, "I am a slave, after all."

Now Khufu looked at her in consternation. "Someone has abused you, and yet you. . .?"

"I am usually assigned to the guards as their servant. Some of them think I am there for more. But one guard—he . . ."

Her voice cracked and tears rolled unchecked down her cheeks. Khufu gathered her in his arms, gently stroking her hair. His eyes burned with blue fire, but she couldn't see that.

"You are safe here. I will speak with Seti. I will keep you in my household where you will be protected."

Her voice was slightly muffled against his shoulder, but her words were clear to him. "Where I will stay in your bed."

He shook his head. "No, Omorose. Only if that is what you wish. On my oath."

He held her away from him, looking into her eyes, still filled with tears. "Who was this guard?"

"He is the one called Badru. He is a brute, he—"

Khufu nodded. Badru. I might have known. Only his jealousy is more potent than his cruelty. "I know of this man. Well, you need have no more fear." Standing and holding out his hand to her, he forced a smile. "Now come, I will show you to the servants quarters and you may settle in."

"My Lord?" At the velvet softness in her voice, he froze, raising an eyebrow. She took her courage in both hands and plunged. "May I stay here, with you?"

Khufu nodded, gently pushing her back onto the pillows, drawing the silken sheet over her. He rounded the bed, dropping the towel and pulling on the clean tunic that had been laid out for him.

Omorose watched, feeling a tightness in her chest at seeing his naked back. He was truly a magnificent man, strong and so very handsome. Yet he seemed kind and gentle. If only things were different. If only I weren't damaged goods. If only I were worthy. Then, and only then, could I surrender my heart to him. Khufu. I have followed his exploits, which are great indeed, but no one talks of him like this—strong in his sensitivities, and passionate in his disciplines.

When he laid down on the bed, his back to her, Omorose wasn't sure what to say…or do. Never had she been in bed with a man who did not want to use her body. It was what was expected of her as a slave. He obviously did not find her pleasing, yet he offered her his protection.

She turned on her side, her back to him, trying to muffle her sobs in the pillows. She gave a small shriek when she felt his hand on her shoulder.

"Omorose? Please don't cry."

"I'm . . . I'm sorry, my Lord."

Khufu put an arm around her, drawing her back against him. He felt her tremble. "Please relax, Omorose. I say again, I will not hurt you. Now sleep."

In a very few minutes, Khufu felt her body relax, and he relaxed, too. Then listening to her breath even out, he knew she must be asleep. He silently cursed the caste system that allowed this beautiful creature to be abused. He vowed that no one would ever harm her again. He soon followed her into the realm of sleep.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Standing before Seti, Khufu stated his desire to leave the military and work within the palace. Seti listened intently, already knowing his best soldier had grown weary of the fighting. But to lose this man's skill when he still had so many battles to fight? That would be a great blow.

"I beg of you, mighty Seti, let me prove my worth to you. Let me show you how—"

Seti held up his hand. "Khufu, please. Allow your Pharaoh to speak."

Khufu placed his fist over his heart, bowing his head. "I ask your pardon, mighty Seti."

Seti smiled at his warrior. "Khufu. You are my best, most loyal soldier. I value your skill on the battlefield, and your wisdom here as advisor. But I know also of your sorrow at the loss of your many friends."

Khufu kept his eyes lowered as he waited for his pharaoh's decision. A lot rested on what Seti would say, and he knew no amount of argument would change his mind.

Seti rubbed his jaw thoughtfully, weighing the potential loss of Khufu's experience and strength against the gain of his mind and ideas. Then his eyes snapped in satisfaction and he smiled again.

"I will grant your request."

Khufu's head lifted. "Thank you. I will not fail you—"

Again, Seti raised a hand. "Allow me to finish. There is a condition to this. If I find I again need you at my side on the grounds of battle, you will be there."

Khufu's blue eyes darkened, and he bowed. "Pharaoh has but to command me." He placed a fist over his heart again.

"Very well." When Khufu remained, Seti looked at him. "Is there something else?"

"A personal favor, if I may ask."

Amusement danced in Seti's eyes, but his disciplined mouth did not curve up. "You may ask."

Khufu stammered slightly. "Th-there is a-a handmaiden, a sl-slave." He shook his head as though to clear it from the speech impediment. "She has been badly abused by," he paused, then decided not to name Badru, "one of your guards."

Seti sat forward. "What is this, you say? Which . . . No, I know. But he is a loyal guard and his size and demeanor keep the others in check." He steepled his fingers thoughtfully. "So this handmaiden has come to your attention?"

Now Khufu lowered his head in embarrassment. "She has found favor in my eyes. I would ask that I may keep her in my household."

Seti now laughed. "My mighty warrior has at last found a woman who pleases him."

Khufu opened his mouth to refute the pharaoh, then snapped it shut. An argument was unwise and, if he were honest, untrue. The slave did please him.

Again Seti laughed. "She is yours, Khufu."

"Thank you."

At that moment, the great doors to the throne room were thrown open. The man who entered was almost five cubits tall (cubit is assumed to be 18 inches, so he would be almost 7 feet) with shoulders that seemed almost too wide to fit through the doors. His shaggy mane of brown hair and full beard gave him the appearance of a lion. His long legs brought him to the foot of the throne in four strides.

Kneeling, he brought his fist to his chest. "Mighty Seti, I beg your forgiveness for this intrusion. But I must speak to you concerning this," he glared up at Khufu, "man."

Seti rose to his feet, staring down at the guard. "Badru, you will leave my presence now."

The guard stood and gestured to Khufu. "My Lord, this man," there was an ugly twist to the word, "has stolen from me. You must grant me justice. He must be punished! The stolen item must be returned to me."

White-hot anger surged through Khufu's veins. He was not intimidated by Badru's size. In battle, he had learned from experience that the bigger a warrior, the easier the fall. His fists clenched and his jaw rippled, but before he could answer, Seti's voice rose to a shout.

"Badru, I have ordered you from my sight! Now you will know what it means to disobey me!" Clapping his hands, he summoned his personal guards, the Medji. Looking to his men, he pointed to the offender. "You are to take this man from the palace, give him food and water for seven days, and take him to the desert, to a distance of three weeks' walk from the city." (An Egyptian week was 10 days long, so 3 weeks would have been a month.)

Badru roared as the guards led him away. "You will pay, Khufu! I will extract my revenge!"

Seti sat down heavily on his throne. "You have made a terrible enemy, Khufu. Guard yourself well."

"I will. Thank you for your favors, my Pharaoh."

As Khufu left the throne room, Seti called for the captain of his Medji. Bayek was his most trusted guard.

"Bayek, I want two of your men posted as guard to Khufu. I have a great fear for his safety."

Bayek clasped his fist to his heart. "It shall be as you wish."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Time passed. Khufu had settled into a comfortable routine. His days were spent with Seti and his advisers, planning out new buildings, the pyramid that would see Seti into the Afterlife, and strategy for Seti's next war campaign.

Evenings were spent sharing dinners with Omorose. At first shy and reserved, she soon opened up, sharing details of her family before her parents' deaths. He found her a delight and determined to have her educated. It was a bold step, but he knew she had a keen intellect. Soon he began discussing his work with her, listened to her sound ideas. He was also teaching her to play Hounds and Jackals. She was a quick study, and he soon found himself being bested more than he was winning.

Nights were spent in each other's arms. At first, she had been frightened and her tears flowed. Those nights his arms were a fortress round about her, shielding her from her fears. Although he kissed her, it was never with the purpose of leading her to a more physical demonstration of his ardor. Instead, he soothed her and held her until she fell into a restless sleep. These were the nights he cursed Badru and silently wished the desert would save the jackal for him to kill himself.

But gradually she accepted his gentle lovemaking. As always, it had started with a sweet kiss. In the last week, she had turned into a passionate lover. Gone were restraints and fear, and only trust, plus a healthy dose of lust, remained. There were nights when Khufu was actually exhausted from their fierce coupling.

It was after one such night that he woke before Omorose. Usually it was she who arose first, in order to prepare his morning fast and to lay out his tunic and sandals. As he climbed from their bed, she stirred.

"My Lord?"

He kissed her exposed shoulder, brushing her hair from her face. "Lay quiet, my love. I can dress myself and I will eat some fruit when I arrive at the palace. You may sleep as long as you please."

He saw that she was asleep before he even finished speaking. Looking at her beautiful face in repose, Khufu had to admit he had finally found a woman to love. He knew Seti would have a good laugh at that.

Dressing in a simple tunic and sandals, taking one last look at his sleeping woman, he headed across the courtyard that connected his house to the palace. So happy was he that he did not notice the two Medji guards were not in their usual place.

Badru had slit their throats and dragged their bodies into the tall reeds. He wanted to attack Khufu as he walked toward the palace, but logistically his best revenge was still in Khufu's bed. Once he was sure Khufu was out of sight, he entered the man's home. He found his property asleep. Omorose let out a shriek as the silken sheet was ripped away. Looking up at the huge man who towered above her, she knew he would take her away from Khufu.

Badru bared his yellow teeth. "So, you have found a bed of silk and perfume to lie in, Slave. Now you will be content with lying on the bare ground with me."

"No, Badru." Her weeks with Khufu had built her resolve, and her confidence. Even if he slew her, she would not ever cower before him again. "I will never lie with you again. I will die first."

"Very well." He grabbed her by her hair, dragging her from the bed. He threw a gown towards her. "But first you will learn what it is to refuse me. Dress, Whore."

Omorose slowly pulled on the sheer gown, not because of his order, but because she wanted as much of a barrier between them as possible. Briefly she wondered if she could run fast enough to escape him.

"Don't think of running, Whore," he snarled, "You will only make it—"

"Badru, leave her alone!" Khufu's voice rang out across the room.

"This is my property, Khufu." His countenance changed into something primal and animalistic. Suddenly he looked less lionlike, more jackal-like. "You are responsible for my banishment. I have suffered hunger and thirst returning from the desert."

Khufu actually laughed. "Take a care. The pharaoh will not approve of you attributing his works to me. He banished you." He was buying time, hoping to distract the man long enough for Omorose to make her escape.

Badru must not have heard him. He was still ranting. "Now you will pay and I will take her from you!"

Badru turned and grabbed a spear from the wall. Omorose, who had been easing her way out of the room, saw the move, knew the evil man's intent, and ran to Khufu just as Badru threw the deadly weapon. The spear caught her in the back, causing her to fall forward into Khufu arms.

"NO!" Khufu's anguished cry echoed throughout the house. Pulling the spear from her small body, he lay her gently on the floor. Her hazel eyes searched for his.

A trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth was the only color in her face. Still, she tried to speak. It came out a broken whisper. "Do not grieve. You . . . have given . . . me the first . . . happiness in my . . . life. You are . . . my love."

When her eyes closed and her body went limp, Khufu grabbed the spear and, with a roar, ran towards the huge man. Ramming the end of the spear into the man's middle, he saw too late the sword that Badru pushed into his chest. He sank to his knees, then fell forward on the floor.

The entire household was in uproar as Bayek entered, followed by several Medji soldiers. Seeing Badru still trying to pull the spear from his body, the soldiers quickly dispatched him.

Seti himself entered the room, crossing quickly to Khufu. "Khufu?!"

"Mighty Seti. Omorose. I want . . . "

The pharaoh understood. "You shall be afforded a warrior's burial, and she shall accompany you into the Afterlife. This is my oath."

Khufu attempted to clasp his fist over his heart but failed. As his eyes closed, the pharaoh wept for the warrior.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The arrangements had been made, and the high priest had been given his special instructions. In front of him were the sacred texts, and beside him, the bodies of the lovers. Their organs had been removed, and the preservation of there flesh was complete. Only the ritual remained. Attending the high priest were the usual servants, and watching over it all was Seti himself.

The incantations started.

Seti, bowing his head, allowed his own, private prayer to join those of the priest. Oh, Mighty Ra, grant to me this request . . . Entwine the hearts and souls of these two . . . give them a time, and a time again, and time after time, to have the love they should have had. Grant to them the ability to conquer obstacles and enemies, to find each other, until you deem it best to escort them as one soul, into the Afterlife.

The ritual was over. And the Cycle began.

Everything has happened before, and everything will happen again . . .