A/N:
Sooooo sorry about the huge delay! My brain's been dead and uninspired for so long! I can't write for beans but I love this story and can't help but write in it. Here's the next chapter. Hope you like it.
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Chapter 3 – Poisoned Incense and Lotus Flowers
Pharaoh Atem raised a hand to block the glare of the sun from blinding his eyes. The desert stretched on to the horizon in all directions, a harsh wind blowing grains of sand into his robes. In the distance, he could see the towering majesty of the city, the golden edifices glistening in the sunlight. Alone amidst the sweltering wasteland, Atem wondered what his purpose in being there was. Suddenly, a shrill cry sounded out from above and echoed across the landscape. Atem raised his eyes and saw the silhouette of a bird of prey, a vulture, hovering in the azure heavens. It flew down to him, screaming with might, flashing its golden wings, its shining jeweled eyes gleaming. It flew to the heights and soared off in the direction of the city, its cry beckoning him to follow. Atem, curious as to where this enchanted bird wished to lead him, trailed after it, faltering slightly in the hot sand dunes, and trying keeping pace with its glorious flight. Soon, he was in the midst of the city, but here the streets were empty, the roadways with not a soul in sight. The only things living were he and the golden vulture hovering over his head. Atem watched as the hunter flew to the very top of a high obelisk in the center of the courtyard, perching upon its height, its talons scraping against the smooth limestone. Captivated by its shimmering golden feathers and ruby jeweled eyes, the Pharaoh's heart leaped at seeing the symbol of his kingdom in such a glorious display. The vulture now did not seem to notice the young ruler's gaze, for as it sat perched upon the tower, it took to preening itself, calmly unbothered by the heat of the day or the rush of the wind.
Suddenly, and without warning, a stream of pure darkness erupted from the direction of the east, hastily aiming for the golden bird clinging to the tower. Atem watched in horror as the golden creature was struck, its wings crippled by the force of the blow, its shrill cry piercing his heart. It faltered upon the tower, weakened by the severe wounds, its beautiful wings nearly shattered, the glistening feathers dropping to the ground one by one. Its gemmed eyes looked up sadly, and it cried out mournfully as the pain overtook it, though it still stood proudly. In that instant the ground began to shake violently, the buildings surrounding the courtyard crumbling to the ground. The towers fell, taking the glorious symbol with them, and the whole city was consumed by a gloomy darkness that spilled out from the eastern desert peaks. The bright sun's light was blotted out and the land was filled with shadow. Atem, frozen where he had been standing, tried to decipher his surroundings but nothing could be seen. All was dark, so much so that he could not see his hand before his face. Frightened, Atem tried to escape, but was trapped and could not move.
A form rose from the ground, a glimpse of its shape flashing in what little light remained. The young Pharaoh tried to see what it was, but fear consumed his heart, as from the black pools rose a creature so horrifying that the brave ruler was rendered mute. A terrible cackling sound, like the shrieking laughter of goblins, echoed into the black void. Around its neck shone the glow of the Millennium Ring, its golden tips dripping with blood, the cries of dying souls sounding out from the melting center eye. The laughter grew louder and louder until a pair of soulless eyes erupted from the darkness, flashing forth fiercely. The laugher screamed in his ears as the creature came for him, rushing in to destroy his soul.
Atem awoke from his dream, his body shivering in a cold sweat, chest heaving, eyes wide with fright. Running a hand through his damp hair, he tried to calm his rapid breathing, as he lay alone in his bedchamber. Though the summer night was warm and wet with a rainstorm, a chill rain up his spine at remembering the terrible nightmare. Had it been some vision spawned from the ominous words of the curse, or merely a concoction formed from his own restless thoughts? Nothing seemed able to calm his riled nerves, and there was no likelihood of him returning to that dreadful place of half-death called sleep. His eyes having adjusted to the moonlight, Atem rose from his bed and paced over the wide aperture across the room. Delicate strands of silvery light filtered down through a sky of white-laced clouds, the velvet night sky glistening with stars. The great sweeping arches, towering obelisks and limestone temples glowed with a heavenly radiance, as the young Pharaoh savored the quiet of the night.
The bronzed skin on his well tones arms prickled at a sound coming from the gardens below. His body tensed as he scanned the swaying black palms, their shaking fronds hissing in the night air. In the dim light, he caught the flashing glance of a creature climbing amidst the canopy. A sigh escaped his lips as he recognized the form of a monkey, one of his many exotic pets that roamed throughout the palace, munching on the ripe dates and chirping happily. Atem shook his head in personal embarrassment and walked back into his room.
Lying across the couch, Atem drew his hands across his moist forehead, wiping the beads of sweat that had refused to drip down since his sudden awakening. The dream returned to his thoughts, and he worried that it meant an even greater evil was approaching. What was the dark power controlling the Ring? Would it return in the hands of a terrible being bringing death and destruction? Did the golden vulture slaughtered by the darkness symbolize his demise, the destruction of his kingdom, and a forthcoming reign of evil? And what of Mahaado, his dearest and closest friend, advisor, and priest, what did his death signify and why was he unable to prevent it? What of the strange intruder who had brought him the scroll, and most importantly, who was this Ras Al Khaimah and what threat would he bring upon the land?
Such thoughts plagued his mind and would not depart. He did not wish to wake Shimon and ask for advice. The old man would just tell him to forget about it. With the appearance of this dream, Atem somewhat doubted his advisor's wisdom and decided to find out the truth for himself. When the sun rose, he would go to the Temple of Karnak and seek out High Priest Seto, his wisest and most trusted cleric. Perhaps he would help in deciphering the words of the curse and the meaning of his vision. For the remainder of the night hours, Atem dwelt on these thoughts, and it was not long before the sun rose, and morning light illuminated the golden city of Thebes.
The throne room was a spacious quarter of the palace, taking up almost half of the eastern segment, and glowed radiantly in the light of the morning sun. The high vaulted ceilings were supported by row upon row of columns and pillars, painted the shades of sunset over the Nile: blue, gold and red. Beneath the pillars was a high wall of stone, overlaid with the purest gold, which encircled the entire length of the throne room. The courtroom was filled with the activity of attendants, court officials, priests and entertainers, who lined the polished floors. The beautiful music of zithers, harps and flutes, and the dancers' floating ribbons and scarves, created a festive aura and engulfed the courtroom with vibrant shades of color. Facing the entrance hallway, a length-some corridor that lead from the outer courtyards of the palace into the secluded beauty of the inner chamber, was the throne itself, a tall pointed structure similar in shape to the head of an arrow, its tip festooned with a golden sun disk. On either side of the throne were two enormous painted eyes, the eyes of Horus, extending outward to encompass half of the wall space surrounding the seat, a pair of white and red cobras sprouting from their azure pools and rising upward as guardians of the Pharaoh's throne. They acted as divine witnesses to all that occurred within the court. At the top of a small flight of stone steps, the elevated seat of authority itself was also covered in gold, the arms of the chair carved into the faces of lions. Behind the throne was a towering statue of Horus, lord of the sun, his regal falcon head shrouding the high seat in a golden aura. And there, sitting majestically upon the seat of authority, was Pharaoh Atem.
Adorned in most stately attire, he was clothed in a very fine garment of crisp white linen that covered his youthful form from his shoulders his thigh. A thick cape of rich purple draped across his chest and flooded over the seat to his gold-strapped ankles, partially concealing a collared necklace of gold. Upon his left shoulder was a golden wing that lifted off his body and glimmered in the sunlight that shone in through the grand entranceway. His graceful arms were adorned with bands of gold; his left wrist bearing a wing-like ornament, his fingers decorated with rings, and hanging from his neck upon a rope of coiled leather was the mystical Millennium Puzzle. Around his waist was a belt of pure gold set in ridges to allow freedom of movement, and draping across his loins an azure sash. His handsome face shone like the sun, his ruby eyes framed with thick black eye paint. Dangling from his ears were two plates of gold, each bearing the shape of an ankh. A crown of gold across his forehead bore the sacred Eye of Horus, its majesty extending out as a pair of bejeweled wings through his dark locks, his golden bangs languidly hanging over his painted eyes as he stared coolly at his beaded sandals.
As the morning had come and the hot sun slowly rose above the horizon, Advisor Shimon had called Atem to the courtroom, for there were many things that were in need of the Pharaoh's attention. It appeared that word of the priest Mahaado's murder had spread to some noble households and many were concerned over the safety of their families and belongings. A dozen requests of audience had been sent from those of the upper class in his kingdom that wished to discuss the possibility of lack in security. Also, there had been witnesses questioned, and possibly a few suspects that were to be interrogated. Having hoped such chaos could be prevented; Atem had ordered that no one else be informed of the situation involving Priest Mahaado and the strange murders on the palace grounds. If anyone began spreading rumors, they were to be detained. After such proceedings had been completed, there remained only a few individuals who wished audience with him. One in particular, was delayed.
While everyone awaited the arrival of the visitors, Atem's mind drifted into memory. Having discussed the murder of Mahaado with his officials and guards, Atem reflected upon how much he missed his dear friend. A scene of happy times came into his weary thoughts: the bank of the river Nile, a pair of chariot horses standing in the reeds, feeding upon the rich grasses and papyrus shoots, snorting happily. Nearby, young Atem and Mahaado were wading through the cool water, shaded by a pair of date palms. Intrigued by the lazy aquatic creatures, Atem snatched a fish into his hands and lifted its glistening silver body into the blinding sunlight. Grinning in delight, he laughed at its squirming form before gently returning it to its home, watching it swim amongst its brethren. Mahaado chuckled and he dove into the water, swimming out into the deeper current. Atem followed after him, and together they watched a herd of hippos from the safety of the reeds, laughing as a calf failed a climb onto its mother's back and slid clumsily into the water with a great splash.
After their swim, the two young men returned to the chariot and lay upon the sand, nodding off as they dried their bronze bodies in the warm sun. The silence was wonderful and Atem relished every moment. Out there he could be free to do whatever he wished without fear of losing face, or being considered weak, and as for Mahaado, he was the closest thing to a brother Atem had ever encountered. The young priest understood Atem's wish to be treated like a normal human, instead of being lavished over as a god. Oftentimes Atem would tell his friend things he never felt comfortable sharing with anyone else. They shared and protected secrets and journeyed on adventures no one ever discovered. And whenever Atem caught sight of Mahaado's honey-colored eyes, he felt relieved that there was someone who understood his true self. But now, to the young Pharaoh's horror and sadness, that secure bond had been broken, and was gone forever. His closest friend had been taken from him by some evil that was too cowardly to show itself, hiding behind fugitives and curses. How dare anyone raise a hand against his heart, and threaten to shatter everything else he held dear! Atem growled internally and swore to himself that he would find the killer and avenge Mahaado's death, even if he had to do it all himself.
Sighing angrily, Atem wondered why his task force hadn't been more prompt in progressing the investigation. The Captain of the Guard had informed him that they were searching the entire kingdom, but no one had confessed to the crime and there were few witnesses. It was claimed that there had been a very small number of servants and attendants at the temple grounds at the time Mahaado was struck down, and the injured fugitive had frankly come out of nowhere. Everyone had been busy with daily things and many of the guards had been sent to search for the Pharaoh since he had made himself absent and those in the palace were worried. Again, Atem cursed his reckless behavior and wished that he had let Mahaado join him on that chariot ride. Perhaps if he hadn't been so forceful in insisting on being alone, then his friend would still be alive and with him.
The Pharaoh's thoughts were interrupted as a gong sounded, its low tones echoing across the linen-draped hallways and resonating through the throne room. One of the court attendants, standing proudly by the long scarlet curtains at the entrance, holding erect a piece of parchment, addressed the young Pharaoh formally.
"Oh mighty Pharaoh," began the attendant. "Lord of the city of Thebes, Atem, Ruler of the Nile, Guardian of the Great Treasure. A servant of Lord Himnotep, noble of the Delta region of Memphis, has requested an audience with you, to discuss terms of friendship and continued alliance, in reverence to your grand rule."
The young king's interest peaked at hearing the name of Lord Himotep. In the years of Atem's father, Pharaoh Akunamukanon's rule, a great war broke out between the Egyptians and the black-skinned Ethiopians that swarmed from the south. Many of the Pharaoh's army perished during this time of warfare, and there was a great need for men. It was then that Lord Himnotep, a noble from the Delta region, sent word to Akunamukanon of his throng of elite warriors, and sent his finest soldiers to Thebes. The Pharaoh was very pleased at this and praised Lord Himnotep for his quick thinking and his superb military knowledge. In this way, Lord Himnotep had gained the late Pharaoh's favor, and secured an alliance with the royal family in the years since. Atem recalled, as a boy, visiting the Delta region and being introduced to Lord Himnotep. The resolute expression upon his aged face, presented him as a battle-hardened warrior, who had trained hundreds of Egypt's finest warriors. Yet he recalled a tinge of compassion and ardor as he kneeled before the young Pharaoh and expressed his admiration. It had been many years since he had visited Memphis, and hearing word of Lord Himnotep woke the youth from his darkening thoughts.
Earnestly, Atem raised a hand to the attendant and said, "Bring him before me."
Bowing reverently, the attendant stepped aside from the doorway. The sultry sound of harps and flutes heightened the Pharaoh's curiosity, as a procession approached. Three young dancers came into the light, waving bright scarlet silks in the air, flowing gracefully to the foot of the throne and bowing their jeweled heads to the young Pharaoh. From behind the floating linens, Atem saw the great bodies of five guards, circled around a form concealed from his view. Coming to a standstill in the middle of the throne room; the guards lowered their spears, and placed their hands on their chests. Atem nodded in approval as the servant stepped forward. It was a man dressed in long white robes, decorated with a golden pendant in the shape of a cobra, his shoulder length black hair wafting across his painted eyes. A great smile stretched across his youthful face, as he came before the throne. Atem could make out the strings of beads across his sash, and the intricate detail on his curled slippers. His gentle hands opened, and, gracefully kneeling to the floor, he bowed before the Pharaoh.
"You are the servant of Lord Himnotep?" Atem asked.
The man looked up slightly, a wry smile playing on his lips at the interest in the Pharaoh's voice. "Yes, mighty Pharaoh. I am Tazun, and I have come to you with a special greeting from my master."
Atem leaned forward on his golden throne, anxious to see what the guards were concealing behind their rugged bodies. "What is it that you bring?"
Tazun, bowing again, began, "Oh Pharaoh, my master, Lord Himnotep, sends friendly greetings and long life to you. In light of the king's coming birthday celebration, my master requests forgiveness, for he will be unable to attend, due to a sudden illness that has come upon him. However, as a token of friendship and continued alliance to the royals of this land he sends a gift, and hopes that it shall bring ever more joy to your grand rule."
Atem's breath caught in his throat, as the guards stepped aside from the form they were shielding and he was certain that before him stood the flower of the world. Draped in fine white linen, the face hidden by a veil of silk decorated with sapphire jewels, the form slowly stepped toward the throne, stopping just at the end of the steps, lowering its concealed face to the floor. Atem raised a hand, beckoning for it to come closer. With some encouragement from Tazun, the form gently walked up the steps and came to rest right before the young Pharaoh., the eyes downcast, hidden from view. Atem could not wait any longer, so took the initiative to see this prize for himself. Reaching a hand over, he gently took hold of the silken veil and lifted it away.
He was unable to hold back a gasp of wonder as he saw the face of a young woman, no older than fourteen, and most beautiful to look upon. Her glowing skin was hued the color of oiled cedarwood from the lands of Canaan, her cheeks vibrant with a youthful flush. Framing her beautiful countenance, curving about her jaw line and draping over her delicate shoulders, was a headdress of pure gold. At its peak was the head of the sacred bird Horus, spreading its wings over her long strands of black hair that flowed down her back. Around her delicately supple throat lay a golden necklace, shaped into the form of a falcon with outspread wings, grasping a ruby sun disk in its claws. The sweet scent of perfumed oil engulfed her radiance, and her eyelids were painted a deep shade of emerald green, yet a glimpse into her soul evaded him for she kept her eyes downcast. Atem placed his fingers lightly on her chin and lifted her gaze. His heart fluttered as he viewed the brightness of her eyes, a golden honey, and the sweet treasure from the combs. All worries left him, as he relished in her beautiful appearance, the soft light in her gaze bringing to mind the calm serenity and close bond he had felt with Mahaado. He felt the presence of the priest within her. It was as if he'd returned, in a small way, to reassure the Pharaoh's tortured heart. Atem smiled broadly as he stared into her eyes and lifted his fingers to caress her cheek. Her skin was as soft as the breast of a dove, and she trembled slightly at his touch with the shyness of a newborn lamb. He couldn't seem to take his eyes away, as he allowed himself to slowly drown in her shimmering pools of honey-gold.
As if overwhelmed by his captivated gaze, the girl turned her view downward again, a cloud sorrow blotting out the brightness in her eyes. Concerned, Atem released her and she slinked a few feet away, bowing solemnly. Though his heart was slightly disappointed at her timid nature, he could not have been happier. He turned to the servant and asked, "Who is this girl and where does she come from?"
Tazun bowed respectfully and replied, "This is Lady Hora, from the house of Lord Himnotep, his daughter. She is known throughout the district of Memphis as the 'Lady of the Falcon.' She has been sent as a gift for Lord Pharaoh, in light of the coming new year in which he shall choose a bride. My master wishes that Pharaoh will take her into consideration, and he hopes that the king has been pleased."
Atem's eyes glistened with appreciation. There couldn't have been a better time for such a gift. He stood and said, "Send greetings to your master, Lord Himnotep, of my approval...and my gratitude."
Tazun bowed once more and before leaving said, "Long life to you and good fortune to your kingdom, Pharaoh Atem."
The procession departed, leaving amidst a flurry of silks and the music of harps. Atem, looked down at the lovely girl, sitting modestly upon the golden stairway, her eyes downcast and filled with silvery tears. Troubled thoughts lingered in his mind as to why the girl was so sad, but his excitement over this beautiful gift drowned those feelings completely.
"Do not weep, Lady Hora," Atem whispered sweetly. "You shall be happy here."
Her eyes fluttered upward for a moment, tempted to catch his gaze, but fell once again as she nodded, obeying the word of the Pharaoh. Kindly, the young ruler rose from his throne, and took the girl's smooth hand, a gesture for her to stand. Seeing that her expression bore fatigue, he turned to his servants and said, "I'm sure that Lady Hora is tired from her long journey here. Prepare the finest chamber, and make sure she is treated well." The servants bowed and came to the side of the young girl, who dejectedly exited the throne room. Atem did not take his eyes off her until she was out of sight, and even then stared after her fleeting shadow.