XIX. Beyond the Good Green

Cassandra woke with a start. Something wasn't right.

She heaved herself to a sitting position, panting as she rearranged her legs around her belly. The air seemed closer, heavy and moist from the nearby river; a sense of apprehension hung in the air like the cloying scent of the lotus flowers decorating her tiny room.

Then a breeze sighed in through the window, and everything began all at once.

The band of pressure wrapping about her womb matched the one of terror that gripped Cassandra's throat as the bedding became abruptly awash with sweet-smelling fluid. She managed to drag herself out of the bed, but her legs didn't want to work. Sobbing in pain and fear, she just barely caught herself against the wall before collapsing.

Help, she thought desperately. This isn't how it was supposed to happen.

Then the door slammed open and Ahawetsebwet stumbled in, an alabaster lamp burning in one hand. "What is--"

"It's here," Cassandra whispered, grimacing. "It's coming."

"I'll call for the mdiwife!"

But Cassandra caught the other woman's hand and clung to it. "No!" she sobbed. "Don't... don't leave. Don't leave me alone!"

Dancing above the lamp oil, the yellow flame illuminated Ahawetsebwet's face as the mask of princess faded, revealing a woman caught up in Cassandra's distress. Her perfect brow wrinkled in worry, she wrapped one slender arm about Cassandra's shoulders. "Can you walk?"

My body is no longer my own. How can she expect me to walk? Gritting her teeth against a groan, Cassandra shook her head. This isn't how it's supposed to go! her mind wailed again.

Finally, Ahawetsebwet pulled away and disappeared, but it wasn't long before she was back with the palace midwife.

The room contracted until there was nothing left but the pain; the pain expanded to encompass the whole world. I should never have left him. He should have been here! Magnified by agony, Cassandra's longing took almost physical shape. Then another mental voice--an unborn voice--joined her own, not understanding, but pulled into a link with its mother's mind.

Mathayus!

The midwife's chanted prayers to Isis and Hathor faltered. Ahawetsebwet moaned, hiding her face in her hands like a frightened child. Somewhere in the desert, beyond the good green of Nile farmland, a pack of jackals took up the call, their eerie voices rising and dipping to the lonely pulse. The river held its breath.

Ahawetsebwet's strangled shriek brought Cassandra out of her half-trance to see thousands of small, dark shapes crawling through the window, through the door, stopping in a teeming circle around the three women. "He is here," Cassandra whispered to herself. A rush of arriving power seethed through the room; a long moment later, there was a tiny, thin wail. The sorceress' pain all but vanished in sudden contentment.

Cassandra smiled as the midwife, sweating and trembling, placed the infant on her breast. It was a boy. "Mathayus is here," Cassandra murmured to the baby. "He's with us, after all."

Exchanging a fearful look with Ahawetsebwet, the midwife made a warding gesture.

Mother and child, both bloody and exhausted, fell asleep. Only the midwife and the princess were left to watch as the swarm of scorpions slowly melted back into the night.

* * *

"I have had many fathers."

Menes escorted Cassandra through the narrow passages of the temple palace, from her own rooms to the king of all Egypt's throne room. The king of almost all Egypt, some part of Cassandra's mind muttered. Mathayus still held a significant area of Upper Egypt, though his borders were being nibbled away almost daily, his former son had said.

"My first father left me to die on the streets of Gomorrah," the young pharaoh continued. "My second father rescued me from that life, gave me hope, taught me not to fear love." Their paired footsteps echoed hollowly. "My third father was my death. But my fourth--my fourth father was Horus himself, who had pity on me."

Cassandra blinked.

The palace melted around her. She was lying on cold earth; she could hear the river singing softly to itself not far away. But a great weight was pressing on her chest--and she was no longer Cassandra.

Menes gazed up as he was drawn into the river of the gods. He found himself before many magnificent gates, golden and painted with magical hieroglyphics. One after another, the gates bowed before him, until he passed into a bright hall.

An assembly of gods questioned him closely, but he could not answer. His mouth would not open. Then he came before great scales. A god with a jackal's head--Anubis--held a small urn in his hands. My heart, Menes thought, but without fear. Instead of placing it on the scales, though, the god of death passed the heart vessel to a tall, linen-wrapped figure behind him.

Justice! a falcon cried, and Osiris smiled at his son.

Horus took the urn from his father and passed it into Menes' hands. Menes felt a raptor's kiss on his brow, and his heart began to beat again.

The baby stirred in Cassandra's arms, and Menes paused for a long moment. "May I hold him?" he asked. Menes' face lit as tiny hands waved erratically. "You will have many fathers too, little one." Then, glancing at Cassandra: "Come."

Entering the throne room, Cassandra felt a light breeze whisper past, though there were no windows. But it was only Ahawetsebwet, entering behind them. She smiled benignly at Cassandra, then indulgently down at the baby.

"Here, take him," Menes said to his bride, and passed the precious bundle over.

Ahawetsebwet bared one breast. The baby instinctively suckled until, finding no milk, he wailed.

"Give him back to me!" Cassandra snapped. The queen's smile didn't falter as she pressed the baby back into Menes' waiting arms.

Menes kissed the tiny forehead, then placed a small golden amulet in the grasping hands. "Your name is Djer, my son. You have two fathers now, and someday you will have a third. When I am gone," he murmured, "you will be the next Son of Horus."

"Give him back," Cassandra insisted again. "He's hungry. I must feed him." Djer's wails grew strident as he caught the distress in his mother's voice. The amulet fell into the cloth swaddling. As Menes passed the baby back to the sorceress, she saw that the amulet was the same golden scorpion necklace as Mathayus had given Menes a lifetime ago.

Quieting, Djer nursed contentedly. You have only one father, son of mine.

His eyes softening, Menes leaned close to Cassandra's ear. "Be at peace, lady mother. The sons of Mathayus will rule over all Egypt."