Chapter Four
Hands shielding their eyes from the sun's glare, the Doctor and Martha looked out over the row of spears and the soldiers wielding them. Behind them was a chariot and two sleek black horses, its rider concealed by a shading partition. With the terrifying sounds from the temple drawing ever closer still, the Doctor knew there was no time to waste and proceeded as if the spearmen weren't even there.
"Pharaoh Ramesses the Third, I take it?" he yelled over the howling winds as, all around them, the sand started to pick up – signs of another oncoming sandstorm.
The curtain twitched curiously before parting a sliver to reveal an inquisitive young male's face, bold eyes peering at the two of them with confusion.
The Doctor continued, spurred on by this positive reaction. "Believe me, O Great Pharaoh, that we are not the threat here! We mean you no harm! Whatever's behind me, behind that door – that's the real threat!"
The door was shaking now, sand and dust falling from it in showers that fell upon the two travellers like sheets. Wordlessly, the Pharaoh raised a heavily decorated arm from behind the curtain, beckoning them closer. The wall of spears divided in two as the Doctor led Martha between them, breathing a sigh of relief as they formed-up behind them once again. Once at a relatively safe distance, with the spearmen lined-up in front of them, the one line of defence against whatever was about to break out of the temple, the Doctor turned around to look at the door just as the shaking stopped and an old, decisively human hand reached around the crack, closely followed by the Hem netjer. He blinked out into the sunlight tiredly as he took in the row of soldiers, the Doctor, Martha and, finally, the Pharaoh's chariot.
But only the Doctor and his companion seemed startled to see how the High Priest had aged considerably since their previous encounter.
"What is the meaning of all this, Mepheses?" Ramesses demanded, stepping fully out from behind his curtain now so that Martha could fully see how he dressed, worlds apart from that of any of his soldiers, or any of the priests she had seen in their short time back in the temple. His linen robes reached from his shoulders to his sandaled feet, his bare arms laden with bracelets of gold and encrusted with jewels and gemstones. His beard was tied tightly into a rod-like shape that protrude from his chin at an elevated angle, his eyes were heavily made-up in white and he bore a headdress of gold and turquoise vertical stripes, figures of a vulture and a snake resting where it met his brow. "These strange people, these outlanders, proclaim you to be some sort of threat! Explain yourself!"
"Were it that simple," sighed the old man as he threw an accusing finger at the two travellers. "These two, my King, are heathens and vandals! They desecrated the temple of our gods, threatened to destroy them and – when faced with the might of our masters made flesh – set about destroying the temple in their bid to escape. You need only look inside to see the unholy deeds they have performed."
"Now, hang about!" the Doctor rounded on the Pharaoh with a look that said 'what is he like, eh?' but was cut short when it was met with a baleful glare. "Oh, come on, you're not going to believe that load of nonsense, are you? Of course you are," he amended as the glare intensified, "because he's your High Priest and I'm just a total stranger, what reason could you possibly have to believe me? This isn't good..."
"Just look at him!" Martha stepped forward, breaking free of the Doctor's restraining grip as she addressed the Pharaoh. "He wasn't that old a moment ago! Doesn't that say something?!"
"The Nubian woman will know her place," growled Ramesses with barely contained venom before lifting his eyes to once again look upon the priest, "but you will answer her, nonetheless. Can you explain your lost years, Hem netjer?"
"Not lost, my Pharaoh," Mepheses corrected respectfully, "only spent; communing with the gods is an arduous task, but one I take gladly. It drains me of all my strength and leaves me in this enfeebled state. But fear not, for I shall be reinvigorated once more," he paused, eyeing the Doctor with suspicious intent, "once I am well nourished again."
The Doctor mouthed these last few words silently to himself curiously as, by unspoken command, the spearmen turned on their heels to point their weapons back at him and his companion. "Oh, now really..."
"Were you a citizen of Egypt, I would have you killed where you stand for the atrocities you have committed," announced the Pharaoh as he stepped down from his chariot. He strode over to the two travellers and gave them a closer, scrutinising inspection. "But there is something about you, man –"
"Oh, Doctor," he interjected in an attempt at friendly helpfulness, "just the Doctor. And this is Martha."
" – Doctor," continued Ramesses, irate at the interruption, "there is something about you, the way you dress, the way you hold yourself and the way you speak that tells me you are not what you appear, whatever that might be."
"Oh, you have no idea," muttered Martha sarcastically, but was quickly elbowed by the Doctor as the Pharaoh turned his perilous gaze upon her.
"And you, woman! You who knows not when to keep to herself and speaks as if she were an equal amongst kings, holy men and...doctors," this last word seemed painfully forced, "there is also so much about you that does not ring true to my understanding of the world. For this, you shall both be spared and remain my prisoners until such a time I have gleaned enough understanding to either have you released, or executed."
"Well, there you go then," the Doctor smiled tightly at this news, "you are indeed wise beyond your years, O Pharaoh, and I promise," this time, it was he that shot Mepheses a look of intention, "once everything's been resolved you will have your answers."
"I better," huffed Ramesses, "for both your sakes. Now, you and your – Martha will remain here with my soldiers. I have business to attend to with the Hem netjer, and I will take the time to look over the damage you have wrought upon our temple and what I witness shall go towards my judgement. Guards, keep an eye on them; should they try and run, do not hesitate to strike them down."
"Charming," Martha crossed her arms defensively as the row of spearmen shifted in to encircle the two of them, "Y'know, I'm starting to hate ancient Egypt just a tiny bit..."
But the Doctor wasn't listening to her; his attention was focused on the Pharaoh as he walked up the steps to the temple, where he was welcomed by the wizened Hem netjer and ushered inside. His eyes said everything – he didn't trust the priest at all, and it was all he could do to restrain himself from attempting to break through their makeshift prison to hold Ramesses back.
"What did he mean 'once he was well nourished again'?" he pondered allowed, balled fist to the brow like some handsome, suited statue of David. "And what were those lights, those shadows? Gods don't just grow from shadows, or at least they shouldn't... what the blazes is going on here?"
"If I were you," one of the guardsmen snapped, "I'd keep your heretic thoughts to yourself before one of us has a little 'accident' and slips with their spear."
"Of course, sorry, rude of me," the Doctor bristled at the hostility but continued to mutter under his breath as Martha looked around helplessly, feeling every bit the trapped animal they were treating her like.
Behind the temple doors, Ramesses had to be immediately careful not to trip over the long wooden plank that now lay strewn on the stone floors. He prodded it with one foot, noticing how heavy, how unmoveable it was. "And you say the foreigners simply... cast this aside?" he enquired of his High Priest.
"With unholy strength, O Pharaoh, did they rent it from its holdings, wielding it one of your solider might simply wield their spear. Indeed, they threatened to strike me with it should I tell anyone of their sacrilege."
"Hmm," the Pharaoh eyed him and the barring-plank with deep suspicion; he was no judge of such unholy things, but he failed to see how the two strangers could possibly have shifted it otherwise. Struggling, and failing, to come to some agreeable conclusion, he tutted and looked up to observe the rest of the temple, which lay in similar disarray – pillars had entire chunks blown off, rubble piling on the floors. Wooden altars were totally destroyed, broken in half. "They did all this?"
"Indeed, they did."
"But my forerunners mentioned seeing them enter for just five minutes before I myself arrived," Ramesses was puzzled, sifting a hand through the nearest pile of rubble. "They did all this in five minutes?"
"Well, O Pharaoh, that is to say..." the High Priest was visibly flustered by the piece of news.
"Did they, or did they not?" he demanded coldly.
"They called upon powers I've never witnessed!" claimed Mepheses, "Such terrible, dark magics!"
But the Pharaoh was no longer convinced, and the High Priest could see that any advantage he had over the two strangers was now gone. "What do you propose we do about this?" he asked of his king.
"Right now, Hem netjer, I trust neither you nor them. But time forces my hand, and I must cast this matter aside for the time being. Once the ceremony has been completed I shall take it up once again – and woe betide you if you're found foul of deceit!"
"Of course, O Wise Pharaoh," the High Priest bowed, taking the slow motion to conceal a wicked smile before rising, his expression calm as ever. "Then you are ready to proceed with the akhet ceremony? The hour draws near; the river must flood so that Hapi can bring fertility to our lands!"
"Yes, yes, I know this, do you think I have forgotten? Why do you think I am here?"
"I thought maybe it was to meet with the gods," answered Mepheses.
"No...no, sadly, that too must wait. I'd rather I looked upon them at a more favourable time; I daren't risk their anger by not fulfilling my divine duties." The Pharaoh gathered his robes about him and turned on his heel. "Come, Hem netjer!" he added as he edged his way out of the doorway, "We must make our way to the Nile!"
"Did I hear the word 'Nile'?" piped up the Doctor from within his spear-prison. "As in the great, big river running down the middle of your country, and the base of that terrible 'In de Nile' joke I hear way too often? That Nile?"
"There is only one, is there not?" asked the Pharaoh as he motioned for his guard to relax their security around the two travellers.
"Weeell, depends if you've been to New Earth or not," the Doctor murmured hurriedly under his breath as the king approached, "and with your civilization's rumours of extra-terrestrial aid, who knows? Anything's possible..."
"Do you always insist of muttering away like a madman, Doctor..?" sighed the Pharaoh. "I find it very tiring and suspicious."
"Who, me? Yeah, all the time I'm afraid – comes with spending most of my life being the most intelligent party in a conversation – uh, not that I would even consider calling you a fool, O Great Pharaoh," he quickly amended himself under Ramesses' glare. "It's just a force of habit, sorry...but, look, why this sudden fascination with getting to the Nile? You only just got here! Don't you want to see your 'gods made flesh'?" Martha had to control herself from laughing out loud as he emphasized these last few words like he was Doctor Frankenstein in a Hammer Horror movie.
"As much as it would fill my heart with reverence and joy to behold my gods with my own eyes, I fear they would not look too kindly to me if I failed to complete my given duties to my people. Therefore, we must make for the Nile with all due speed."
"Duties...Nile...ohhh, you mean the Inundation!" there was that beaming grin of triumph of his as, little by little, pieces started falling into place in the Doctor's mind. "Marvellous, simple marvellous! Why, that must put us well near September, wouldn't you say? Nah, nah, of course you wouldn't," he went on regardless of the Pharaoh's exasperated expression, "you live on a totally different calendar, don't you? Heh, the annual flooding of the Nile! What a coincidence, only," now he paused, eyeing the High Priest once again with renewed suspicion, "if there's one thing I know it's that there's no such thing as a coincidence, now is there? It's just another piece of the puzzle... anyway, yes! To the Nile, then! Allons-y! Got to get there in time, Your Highness, your work must be done! And then...then we'll see what things are all about!"
As they made their way to the Nile, the Pharaoh's chariot leading the way and the spearman-guard staying close to the Doctor, Martha and the High Priest, Martha sidled close to the Time Lord as he strode blissfully in the procession and muttered in hush tones. "Look, I've think I've been quiet long enough, don't you?"
"Oh, yeah, too long," he agreed with a grin as he hooked his arm with hers. "Almost forgot you were with me – kidding!" he added as he nimbly sidestepped her elbowing shove. "Kidding...what's on your mind, Martha? What's going on inside the wonderful head of Miss Jones, M.D?"
"I wish," she laughed, quickly becoming serious, "what's on your mind is a better question; just what connections are you making, anyway? Living gods, pharaohs, creepy priests, green light and shadows, and now this! The flooding of the Nile! Just what is going on, Doctor? Am I completely dense, or do you not know what's entirely going on either?"
Brow furrowing, the Doctor looked up at the High Priest, now riding beside the Pharaoh in his chariot and whispering in the man's ear in hushed tones. "I think only one man truly knows everything that's going on and is about to take place," he told her calmly, "but I very much doubt it's Mr. Mummy-In-The-Making."
"That's what I was afraid you'd say," groaned Martha.
A/N: Another day, another chapter! Hey, wonder how long I can keep this up – story should be done by the end of the week if I can keep it at this rate! Apologies for any awkward sentences in this (and the last chapter!), as it's been some time since I've had a chance to really write and I'm working off the rust, so to speak.
Lucky you, chaps! Because Dave felt cleverer than usual, you get treated to a small glossary to explain one or two things! Huzzah!
Akhet – A season in the ancient Egyptian calendar that heralded the flooding of the Nile from its small beginnings in mid-July, in the city of Aswan, to mid-November, its culminated most notably being the swelling of the banks in (guess where?) Cairo. Now you know why I set the story there :D Oh, and also, it was widely believed that the Pharaoh – being the living embodiment of one of the top gods – was responsible for the flooding of the Nile, that it was his duty to make sure it happened and that his people enjoyed a fertile year's farming. A drought year, or one with low water rising levels, may have been seen as a curse, that the gods did not favour the people for that year.
Hapi – The god associated with the above season, also god of the Nile-slash-water, fertility, North and South (no, not the 2004 TV series), Upper and Lower Egypt (wow, with all those duties you'd think they'd have split it up between a few gods, huh?). He's also one of the select few gods who appear pretty much human.
Allons-y – C'mon, you must be a Doctor Who fan to be reading this, so you know what it means! :D
M.D – Doctor of Medicine.
See? Told you it was small! Until next time, people!
Dave