Ancient Times Chapter 4
Palace Prison:
Katriel leaned up against rock's carven wall in the entombed den of the guard house. The prison was made from one of the holes carvers had pitted out while building the palace of stone. The cold night had passed, and light had lit the room all day, chill staying with it. Light reached the prison, but not the warmth.
A whole night and day had passed in the prison and Katriel's tears still came as she hugged her cold arms. Any offense in the palace was a great one, even a simple one like breaking curfew. Slaves, servants and even royal court members had been executed for less. Katriel laid her head on her bent knees, why had she gone outside? She could have cried anywhere else and not broken curfew.
Katriel watched as the light began to slowly fade away. Midday had long gone and past, Imhotep's secret meeting with Anck-su-Namun would be over now.
If they had not been caught, he would be happy at least. Katriel was certain, that after having spent time with him, Anck-su-Namun would not need to give it another thought whether she wanted to be pursued by him or not. Coldness would be replaced with charm and she would have the most influential member of pharaoh's court under her bronze finger.
Katriel's body shook with fear, anger, grief and cold. Where would this path lead? What would happen to Imhotep? She had thought it over.
Perhaps he would run away with Anck-su-Namun? He was influential, maybe he would try to take over as pharaoh if he could convince the people of his divine right to rule? He could be killed, and then it wouldn't matter what he did.
Katriel's fist clenched and unclenched continuously. She should have killed Anck-su-Namun, if she was going to be thrown in prison and executed anyway. At least she could have spared Imhotep.
He would love her, she would use him and he would let her. All because she was beautiful.
Katriel raised her head, she was not beautiful, she could never make him love her. Perhaps that was good, he was a high priest of anubis and she was a Hebrew. She would give up to her soul for Imhotep, but not her actual soul.
Looking up at the dark ceiling, Katriel got on her knees and lifted her arms to her one and only God, saying, "I have not the strength to keep my heart from the man, Imhotep. But I am your servant first. Have pity on me and help me. In a land where You are forgotten for lesser gods, I know You to be the Truth and the greatest one. Spare me my life that I may spare Imhotep's life as well. He goes down a path of death, but for Your greatness and Mercy, help me to spare him as well. For this I would give my life."
A rush of wind came in through the open slots at the top of the ceiling that had let in light and air. It flowed down to the ground and swept against Katriel. Feeling the oddest of sensations Katriel's body slumped to the ground as she watched, being swept away from it with the wind, her body no longer solid.
Her spirit was carried up out of the prison into a bright place: a land of waiting.
…
Imhotep's Chambers:
Imhotep sat at his desk, sacred scrolls of anubis before him, but he could hardly concentrate on them now. The afternoon had been spent in the sweetest of moments.
He closed his eyes, remembering the feel of the horus statue beneath his fingertips as he pressed up against it while Anck-su-Namun spoke. Her words were like a spring water, flowing with grace. She had told him she returned his affections, she spoke of him like he had been the only one to ever exist in her eyes, yet she was not worthy. She! The sun itself! And then, unable to contain himself, he had looked from out behind the statue and their gaze met. All exhilaration of a lifetime in one moment! Her eyes! Her face! The jewelry cascading down her black, silky hair! Her lips, parted silently in surprise as she studied his face in a single instant! And a moment passed, her eyes fastening on his in a soft glow of the connection. A lingering look. A look of realization of longing.
She loved him. He could feel it in her as keenly as he felt it for her. They would see one another again, and they would find a way to be together.
A knock rapt at his door. Imhotep blinked slowly, looking up at the door with calmness as it opened. A gold painted head emerged, followed by another. His priests came in, shuffling quickly over the floor, bald heads down. They had come to deliver his slave back to him.
Imhotep glanced at them before returning to his scroll, concentrating on the glyphs, "Well?"
His slave had probably accrued a small fine that would be a pittance compared to what he made, but for the extra work his slave took on he would not mind paying it. After she sat in the prison for a time as punishment for speaking out against Anck-su-Namun as she did. Not that she was wrong, but it was not her place and she would learn that.
Now she would be brought back more cooperative, and could deliver more notes to Anck-su-Namun for him.
"My lord," One golden covered priest bowed repeated, "we went to retrieve the slave girl, Katriel, as you requested. But upon opening the door, the guards found her dead."
Imhotep's brow furrowed and he looked up from his scroll. Dead? He turned in the chair to face the priests, who did not meet his eyes, but instead that of his floor. "How?" He asked, puzzled.
"We do not know, your grace. We brought her body to the temple, thinking you might want to investigate?" The priests said.
Imhotep's furrow deepened, the situation seeming suspicious. If the slave had been discovered with a secret note to his Anck-su-Namun, and killed for it, everything could be ruined. Imhotep nodded, "Leave now."
The priests bowed out.
Imhotep turned to the scroll, memorizing the glyphs that formed an ancient spell. Once done, he stood and rolled up the papyrus. He set it gently on the shelf with other scrolls, finger lingering on it a moment. It was such an important spell to remember now.
Robe billowing behind him he left the room and walked down the halls to the preparation room.
As keeper of the dead, he knew the route well. All who passed into the afterlife from the palace had first to go through him, though usually slaves were taken by their own kind and buried according to their customs. Lesser-knowns of the palace were usually attended to by his priests though, and it had been a long time since Imhotep had looked upon an unprepared body, as usually high priest said the sacred protective spells over a body during or after preparation. The more important a person was, the more the high priest was involved.
To get the preparation chamber, Imhotep had to step out into the night. He crossed the courtyard, a different more open one than the one he had spoken to Anck-su-Namun in. Moonlight was shrouded in cloud and Imhotep noted it as he looked up. That was unusual. Desert clouds did not form often, and even rarer did they form at night to cover a crescent moon. It was surely an omen of some kind, Imhotep knew as high priest that the heavens foretold many things, but what this sign was he could not guess. Setting it aside in his mind for now, he continued on.
...
Preparation Room For Entering the Afterlife:
Imhotep stepped quickly in through the preparation room now, covered in golden walls with black inscriptions of the afterlife and depictions of anubis covering almost every surface. He approached the table where the modestly clothed body lay. Several priests were gathered around it, chattering quietly. They stepped aside as Imhotep came forward. As he looked down upon the body, his eyes widened slightly as his brow raised.
The slave girl Katriel was not even pale yet. Usually the lips would be darkened following death, but she looked as if she were sleeping. Though her chest did not rise.
Imhotep bent over the body, examining it, as a priest spoke, "We did not find any puncture wounds, we think perhaps a poison?"
Imhotep raised his hand and waved it over the body, closing his eyes as he said an incantation to draw out poison. If she had been murdered, or even if she poisoned herself, he could draw it out to see what had been used with his spells.
Opening his eyes as he finished, the body had not changed and nothing leaked from the mouth or eyes, like it should have had there been poison. Frowning he placed a hand over the face, commanding the spirit of the body to commune with his.
He met a hollow response.
Surprise flitted over his features and he withdrew his hand, puzzled. He frowned down at the body. Her spirit would not answer back, it was not where it should be. It had not been weighed yet on the scales, as anubis had no answer for him either.
Imhotep placed a hand down on Katriel's forehead gently, feeling it. Next he took up her hand and held it between his, pausing carefully. He set it back down on the table.
Cold. She should be pale from the cold, but she was not. Her spirit should have some reply for him, but it was gone. It had passed beyond anubis to a place he could not reach.
He frowned. How could a soul pass by anubis? Was that even possible?
Imhotep gazed down at the body of Katriel. Where had she gone? And how? And why? He was keeper of the dead and yet if anubis had not taken hold of her spirit, he could not find it. Did the Hebrews know something of this that he did not? Imhotep blinked, that must be it. Some heavenly interference was at work here.
Imhotep turned his head quizzically to one side. How could this slave girl be worth heavenly interference though? It was a puzzle. As high priest he should look into it personally.
He turned to a priest, "Keep the body here, inform me when it starts to decompose…or if it wakes up."
"Wakes up?" The priest repeated, eyes wide.
"…Something is at work here, something I have never seen before." He said, dark eyes looking over the figure of his former slave. Perhaps the book of the Dead would have the answers he sought. To read it though, would be a grave thing indeed, being as powerful as it was. Fortunately it was here at least, having been moved to the city of the living by his predecessor while the book of the Living was moved to the city of the dead. Imhotep smiled.
He hadn't gotten his sense of humor on his own, the last high priest had contributed to it a fair amount. The switching of books to oppositely named cities being a good example.
