(The tale told in this chapter stems from my own strange imagination and has not basis in fact beyond names and places. The myth is my own)
“His sister [Isis] hath protected him, and hath repulsed the fiends, and turned aside calamities (of evil). She uttered the spell with the magical power of her mouth. Her tongue was perfect, and it never halted at a word. Beneficent in command and word was Isis, the
woman of magical spells, the advocate of her brother. She sought him untiringly, she wandered round and round about this earth in sorrow, and she alighted not without finding him. She made light with her feathers, she created air with her wings, and she uttered the
death wail for her brother. She raised up the inactive members of whose heart was still, she drew from him his essence, she made an heir, she reared the child in loneliness, and the place where he was not known, and he grew in strength and stature, and his hand was
mighty in the House of Keb. The Company of the Gods rejoiced, rejoiced, at the coming of Horus, the son of Osiris, whose heart was firm, the triumphant, the son of Isis, the heir of Osiris." – Excerpt from The Book of the Dead
Isis, Queen of the Egyptian Kingdom, widow of Osiris - Onnophris, the “good one” – stood on the balcony of the palace at Thebes, staring down at the drop below her. It had not been the first time she had contemplated throwing herself to her death, nor would it be the last. Ever since her failed attempt to rescue the body of her husband, to provide for him the funeral he deserved, she had searched for different methods of ending her life. There were the waters of the Nile in which she could drown herself, the deadly bite of an asp, the sting of a scorpion, the point of a dagger at her breast or the flight from above to below.
She longed for death, cherished its release deep within her heart; a void in which to escape all that she knew, all that she feared, all that she must remain strong for. But for Horus, her dear child, her hidden child that she must not acknowledge, she would continue to remain strong. For he would one day be King; he would one day smote down Seth, the murderer of his father, and all would be good and right in the Kingdom once more.
Turning from the twilight view before her, Isis moved silently into her room, her only solace from the madness that seemed lately to grip the palace around her. Seth, and those who were loyal to him, were truly insane, their bloodlust reaching far beyond the Kingdom, destroying all of the lives of those they touched. Where Osiris, blessed of Ra, had abolished cannibalism, bringing a new age to the world, Seth only turned it backward once more, praying to the old gods, making sacrifices both horrific and senseless, feeding upon the lives of those he felt… unworthy. It was as if he had made a pact with Anubis, throwing the land of the Kingdom into darkness and despair. It sickened and hurt Isis, who was left helpless as all she and her husband created fell around her.
A knock at her door. Isis paused, not wishing to speak with anyone. She knew Seth was away at Aswan, building what he claimed was his temple to her beauty on a tiny island called Philae. It would be her prison that much Isis knew, but if it would take her from his presence, then it would be a release of some kind from her tortured world. So if not Seth, then who would wish to disturb her?
“Come,” she called out; wincing at the imperious voice that somehow remained within her person. She had very little left to command, surrounded as she was by those who were loyal to the Interloper.
The door opened; a soldier entered. He immediately dropped to his knees before her, his eyes cast down, as he was not allowed to look upon her. His hands were held before him on which sat a plate of food – saffron cakes, dates, a bit of fish. Isis’ eyes narrowed as she approached him, stopping only inches away, staring down at the offering.
“What is this?” she demanded. One could never be too careful. Among Seth’s supporters, poison was always a possibility.
“Forgive me, My Queen,” the man spoke to her, his voice like an evening breeze across the dried out desert that was her heart. “You have not eaten; you do not rest. You wander these halls a shell of the majesty you once were. I fear for you.”
Isis blinked, her gaze sweeping over the man who knelt before her. The Captain of the Palace Guards, Guardians of the King. Though those closest to him Seth had replaced when he had taken power, there were many left from the reign of her late husband, the Captain being one of those men. Still, she could not be certain.
“And if I were to tell you I were only a shell, with no soul left to warm my bones, no heart with which to care where I wander, what would you say?”
“I would say, My Queen, that such words bring grief to my heart and tears to my eyes.”
“Pretty words for a soldier,” Isis commented, gazing at the soft black curls that touched his bronze shoulders. “But lies fall from the lips of men such as venom from a Scorpion’s touch. I do not believe you. This food could bring my death.”
The Captain’s shoulders tensed. Truth? Or anger at her accusation?
“I would die first than bring harm to My Queen.”
“We shall see.” Isis moved away from him over to a gilded couch covered in soft pillows. She reclined back, casting her gaze once more in his direction. “Rise and approach me, Captain of the Palace Guards.”
He stood, though his gaze remained on the floor before him. Isis quietly admired his form as he approached, from his broad sweeping shoulders and muscular chest that tapered to a hard stomach, hips barely concealed by a dark loin cloth and long legs covered in dark, masculine hair. He knelt once more on the floor at the edge of the couch as she admired his shapely feet. The plate was thrust before her.
“Your insistence concerns me, Captain,” she commented. “I can not decide if you are friend or enemy. Does this offering before me promise sustenance or death?”
“I wish only to serve you, My Queen.”
“Truly?” Isis leaned forward, her hand reaching out to scoop a piece of the fish between her fingers. She held it to his lips. “If that is so, then eat.”
The Captain opened his mouth without hesitation and the Queen laid the fish on his tongue. She watched carefully as he chewed and swallowed. Raising a curved brow, Isis reached for a date, holding it against his lips.
“Eat,” she commanded.
Again, his mouth opened to her and her fingers brushed his lips as she set the fruit against his tongue. She felt her heartbeat quicken at the contact, her eyes locked on the muscles at his throat that contracted and expanded as he swallowed the offered bite.
Isis eyed the saffron cakes, and then broke a hunk away, once more holding the offering to his lips. He opened his mouth obediently and this time her fingers lingered as she set it on his tongue, her thumb playing across his full bottom lip. The Captain stilled beneath her touch, only moving when she once more commanded him to eat what she had given him.
Seemingly convinced that the man before her did not wish her death, Isis grabbed a date from the plate and nibbled at it a moment appreciatively before her gaze once more settled on the Captain.
“What is your name?”
“Ankhefenmut, My Queen.”
She took another date. “Ankhefenmut.” The name felt good on her lips. “You were loyal to my late husband.”
Silence.
Good. He would not speak because to do so meant declaring loyalty to one and not to the other. Such an admission could only end in one’s death.
“I would see your face, Ankhefenmut.”
It was a strange request, even for a Queen, but it had been so long since she had taken pleasure in the beauty of a man and the one who knelt before her promised many other-worldly delights.
Ankhefenmut raised his face to her, but his eyes were closed, refusing to look upon the face of his Queen. It was forbidden, an act for which he would have his eyes plucked from his head. It was an act of disrespect, of disloyalty and insolence. There had been so many times, though, that he had watched her in the distance when she did not know; so many times that he had secretly allowed his gaze to linger over her graceful form, her flawless skin. This was the closest he had ever been to her, and her smell – a heady mixture of wild flowers and spices – engulfed him like a shroud. It had taken every ounce of his strength to hold himself against the touch of her fingers against his lips. Osiris forgive him! Ra spare his eternal soul! He hungered for his Queen.
Isis spent her time examining the face that was raised before her. The high cheekbones, chiseled jaw line sculpted perfectly within a trimmed beard, straight nose and generous mouth. She suddenly wanted very much to look into his eyes, to know if he were strong and intelligent or weak willed and stupid. There was so much that one could tell from another’s eyes, and it had been so long since she had someone whose eyes she could gaze into. Her sister was away, protecting Horus, nurturing him, as she should have been; and Isis refused to give Seth more than a parting glance.
The Queen blew out a short breath, saying, “Open your eyes, Ankhefenmut.”
A brief silence. “It is forbidden, My Queen.”
Isis smiled. “This is true. But then, as your Queen, I command you to obey me. Open your eyes to me, Ankhefenmut.”
“My Queen…”
He seemed fearful. Her heart went out to him; her trust she handed him completely.
“No harm will come to you, Ankhefenmut. I promise this.”
“It is you, My Queen, who I fear for,” he told her, his voice anguished.
She was causing him pain, and she did not mean to. “Do not fear for me, my loyal servant.” She took his chin in her hand, lifting his face upward. “Look at me, Ankhefenmut.”
Slowly he opened his eyes and they were as dark and fathomless as she had imagined. Intelligence, arrogance, gentleness and courage all mingled together in their bottomless depths. And something else… Isis sucked in a sharp breath. He loved her!
At her reaction, the Captain immediately dropped his gaze once more to the floor. “I am sorry, My Queen,” he apologized swiftly.
Isis bit her lip. It was impossible to ignore the desire that was sweeping over her. She suddenly wanted very much to have this man touching her. She had been alone for too long. “There is no need to apologize, Ankhefenmut. It has been ages since one has looked upon me in that way. I feel as someone who has stumbled upon an oasis after years of wandering the desert. I would take what your eyes offer, if you are brave enough to give it.”
Ankhefenmut looked up, their dark gazes meeting. His eyes searched her face, drinking in the sight of her, her perfection radiating before him. Her wide, almond-shaped eyes slightly tilted upwards, with orbs as dark as the lashes that protected them, gazed back at him, seemingly as curious of he as he was of her. She leaned forward, pressing her lips gently to his, silently commanding him to respond to her, sighing softly against his lips as he did so. She pulled him toward her, leaning back against the pillows, her hands moving over his shoulders, tangling in his hair. Still, he remained distant, uninvolved, as if afraid to touch her. Pulling away from his mouth, Isis held him before her, looking into his eyes.
“I command you to put your hands on me, Ankhefenmut. Your Queen yearns for your touch.”
The Captain hesitated for the briefest moment before setting the still full plate of food at his feet. He leaned forward, placing his hands on her upper arms, luxuriating in the silky skin beneath his fingers, placing his lips once more against hers.
They took their time, discovering one another, learning the feel and taste of each other. Ankhefenmut remained at the command of his Queen, doing only as she asked, taking no liberties of his own. It was a new experience for him. With the women around the Palace he was used to being the aggressor, to taking what he wanted when he wanted it. But this was his Queen, and though his body ached for her, she was not like the others. So he remained her slave, doing only that which she asked, asking for no more in return. And he continued to do so, on through the night, as the morning sun rose up through the heavens at Ra’s bidding.
Isis lay nestled in the arms of her soldier, the first thread of happiness in what seemed to her to be forever, lighting its way through her soul. Ankhefenmut was beautiful, attentive, loving and strong. Isis found that she wanted to remain in his arms for all eternity. She had loved Osiris, and been true to him throughout his life, but while the love had been strong, it had also been forged through sisterly affection. Osiris had been everything that Egypt needed for a King, and she had loved him for it, loved him for how good and kind and strong and intelligent he had been. But he had not been what she had longed for in a husband; had not been what she did not understand she needed. And the man who held her in his arms now was. She would not let him go.
“We must be careful, Ankhefenmut,” she told him softly, caressing his cheek with her fingertips. “Seth is jealous and wants me, though he cannot have me. Were he to learn of us – “
“I will not let you down, My Queen, my Isis.” He kissed her.
“You must come to me every night,” she urged, afraid of the thought of not sleeping next to him. “Except when you cannot, of course.”
He made his promise and they kissed, silently sealing an unspoken vow of eternal love between them.
Days turned into months, months into years, and through it all the love that Isis and Ankhefenmut shared remained a secret cherished between them, as strong as it was the first night they spent together. When Isis had been banished to the Temple that Seth had built in honor of her, Ankhefenmut had convinced the King to send him with her, to protect her, and Seth had agreed.
The island of Philae became their private paradise. Though they still shared their love in secret, there were fewer people around to interrupt them, to force them to find stolen moments behind pillars or secret meetings late in the night. Back in Thebes their love had been a danger to them both; but here, in the midst of a beautiful island, Isis felt as if there were truly a chance for happiness after all. Hidden from the knowledge of Seth, her son Horus grew and flourished under the care of his aunt, Nephthys, while Isis continued to flourish under the love and care of Ankhefenmut.
The Temple was truly beautiful, though she would never admit it to Seth, and she had slowly made it all her own. Those, which she allowed to stay with her, were loyal to her, and they respected Ankhefenmut, for the care and protection that he bestowed upon their Queen. Isis made certain that Philae was filled with laughter and music, musicians and poets, anyone who attempted to smile during the grim reality that faced the Kingdom. She filled her home with animals, which she loved, beautiful flowers and artwork of every kind. It had become her sanctuary and pillar against sorrow.
Every afternoon, before the evening meal was served, Isis and Ankhefenmut would meet in the altar room to Ra where they would spend a few quiet moments together, asking for Ra’s protection and Osiris’ forgiveness for their love. She treasured those moments, when they were most open with one another, content to admit their fears and gather strength from their shared souls.
Walking down the long hallway that led to the courtyard, her bare feet scraping silently against the sandstone, Isis realized at that moment that the love she shared with the Captain of the Guard was fated to be. It came to her so simply, so out of nowhere. They shared a soul, and somehow that soul had become two, long before the time of the gods or the conception of the earth. And now, those souls were united. A spring arose in her step and she smiled suddenly at the guards, dressed in dark loincloths and elaborate headdresses, carrying seven-foot long pikes in their hands, which flanked her on either side. Guards loyal to Ankhefenmut. Guards loyal to her and Osiris.
Turning to her left, she entered the rectangular courtyard where those who resided at Philae with her moved about in the sunlight, some sitting beside the enormous reflecting pools, while others talked in small groups or played with the various cats that laid around in the sun. As she entered, they all grew hushed, bowing low as she passed. She trailed her fingers along the cool water as she moved past the pool, then with an arching flick of her wrist a sleeping white tiger rose to its feet and trotted over to her, where it fell in line beside her. She patted the tiger beside her as they approached the door. Her guards turned, forming a semi-circle between her and the courtyard, blocking all prying eyes from her entrance through the door. The tiger sat to the side of the door, as if guarding as well. He yawned, his sharp teeth glittering in the sunlight before nudging his head against her hip, begging for more attention. She knelt beside him, scratching his furry cheeks, behind his ears, placing a kiss on his wide nose.
Isis stood. The door was before her. There was no one watching. No one to see. She pushed against it, and it opened.
She stepped inside.
A small fire burned at the wall -- the altar to Ra. In the center of the room stood a small fountain that cascaded into a shallow well. Lit sconces hung on the walls, providing a shadowy light. In the corner there was a statue of Ra and before it stood Ankhefenmut. He smiled as she looked at him, and they came together in a rush, holding to one another tightly, their lips quickly meeting.
“My Isis!” Ankhefenmut kissed her eyes, her nose, and her cheeks. “Hours apart from you are eons to my heart.”
“Ankhefenmut.” She sighed against him. “I would be lost without you.”
They kissed, held one another, moved over to the fountain where they sat, whispering words of love, touching one another. They became so enrapt with one another that they did not hear the approaching footsteps outside or the death rasps of the guards. Not until the door to the chamber was thrown open did Isis realize that her beautiful and delicate world was once more about to crumble around her.
Seth entered the altar room, his face contorted in rage. “So this is why you have scorned my advances, retreated without protest to the Temple I built in celebration of your beauty – to whore with a soldier!”
Isis gasped in terror, immediately turning to shield Ankhefenmut behind her. “Seth, please! Let this go!”
The King moved forward, his expression darkening dangerously. He backhanded Isis hard across the face, knocking her across the room into the wall. Ankhefenmut snarled, moving toward him, but the King’s guard caught him, pinning his arms to his sides and forcing him to his knees.
“You dare to touch the Queen?” Seth raged at the soldier before him. “Dare to gaze upon her as if you were her equal? For this, you shall pay in blood.”
“Seth,” Isis sobbed, climbing unsteadily to her feet. Her world was ending again; crashing down around her. Visions of Osiris’ dismembered body swam before her eyes. “I beg of you – do not do this!”
The King grabbed her by the arm, pulled her to him, his face leaning down to hers. “You had your chance, Isis. Time and again I asked you to love me and you refused, saying I was nothing in the wake of Osiris. And now… now you turn to a soldier. A soldier?! You will pay for this deception – this humiliation! You and your lover!” he hissed, turning to his loyal guards. “Present the Queen with a keepsake before her lover is murdered! Give her his eyes – so that he may gaze upon her always!”
Isis screamed as the guards removed their daggers. She tried to reach Ankhefenmut but Seth held her tight, forcing her to watch. The doomed Captain of the Guard watched his Queen sorrowfully, filled with guilt over the pain that he knew she would be forced to suffer.
“Do not cry for me, Isis!” he shouted to her, struggling in his captors’ grasps as they fought him, trying to hold his head. “I am the most fortunate being that has lived, for I have tasted of your love!… For all eternity, my Isis!”
“For all eternity, my heart,” the Queen sobbed, screaming as the Guards dug their daggers into her lover’s eyes.
In his madness and insanity, Seth forced Isis to be present as they tortured and murdered Ankhefenmut, eventually eviscerating him before her eyes, leaving his tongue untouched so that she may hear his cries. His body was then set out beyond the walls of Thebes, left to the desert for the carrion feeders, his soul not allowed to enter the Afterlife.
After Ankhefenmut’s death, Isis slowly gave up on life, her soul withering away within her. Seth came to her as she lay on her deathbed, cursing her as she lay silent, promising her that one day he would have her, whether it was of her choice or not. Helpless against him, Isis could do nothing as Seth placed a beautiful amulet around her neck, claiming his possession of her.
“You will be mine yet, Isis, My Queen,” he promised, his hand stroking through her midnight black hair that fanned across the pillow. “If I must force you to live forever to forget him, then I will do so.”
He then called his priests forward, telling them to heal her, to force her to live with the knowledge that because of her perfidy, she and her lover would never be joined in the Afterlife. As the priests chanted around her, Isis gathered her strength about her, reached for a hidden dagger and drove it deep within her heart. As Seth screamed in rage, the dying Queen smiled, promising:
“Then I will search for him through eternity…”
Isis, Queen of the Old Kingdom, perished, her soul banished from the Afterlife, left to wander eternally in search for her lost love.
Her legend rose to deity and myth. The secrets of her life were forever hidden and her ending forgotten. She was the giver of life and for that was celebrated. She brought forth her son, Horus, in the face of adversity, and a new and glorious Kingdom soon rose from the ashes of the old. The secrets of the curse pledged by Seth were lost in the annals of myths and legends and only his blasphemy against Osiris was remembered.
Meanwhile, Isis’ soul continued to walk the earth, searching…
“I have come forth from the horizon against my enemies. I have not permitted him to escape from me…”
Katy heard the words spoken in her mind, whispering across her soul like a gentle wind.
“My Isis! I have found you!”
The spirit of Seth moved within her like a snake, his cold form seeping through her bones and muscle, filling her with emptiness.
“I have not permitted the enemy [to be saved] from me. As for mine enemy, he hath been given to me, and he shall not be delivered from me…”
Her body convulsed as two spirits converged on one another, the battle raging. Warmth and light against cold and darkness. She felt her heart straining against her chest, as if it could somehow break free. Her lungs seemed to refuse to work. She could not breathe.
Stop this! her mind shouted. I can’t fight!
Send him away. Only you can save yourself, a strong feminine voice commanded. We are One. But I am powerless to fight. It is within you that I live. Be strong. He cannot hold power over us… unless you let him.
The sound of laughter echoed through her body. It is too late! I shall live again, with my Isis beside me! Beware, young one. I will come for you soon!
Katy shuddered once more, falling to her knees as the chill seeped from her body, winging into the night air. Invisible fingers touched her, danced over her neck, lifting the amulet from her breast and pulling it off. It floated in the air before her and she heard the words You shall wear this again echo through the oasis as the necklace fell to the sand before her. She shook, attempting to stand and from her own mouth came the words:
“I stand up like Horus. I sit down like Ptah. I am strong like Thoth. I am mighty like Tem. I walk with my legs. I speak with my mouth. I chase my enemy. He hath been given unto me, and he shall not be delivered from me…”
The group of Medjai warriors stood staring in awed silence at the scene before them. Some had dropped to their knees in worship while the remaining few stood confused, uncertain of what should be done, of what had just occurred.
Ardeth was one of those. First he had been running toward Katy, knowing in his heart that he would not reach her in time. He had come to a halt as a light began to emanate from her very skin, then out of her, hovering just in front of her as she fell to her knees. The Amulet of Isis had lifted from her neck, tossed into the sand. Then she struggled to her feet and in ancient Egyptian spoke a passage from the Book of the Dead. And it had all happened within seconds.
At his side, Khalid spoke in hushed tones, “The goddess Isis.”
Ardeth turned, denial burning through him. “No, you fool. This is not Isis.”
“How can you deny what is before us, my Chief?” Khalid whispered, his eyes never leaving the redheaded woman. “It is her. It is Isis, come to life.”
“Do not speak of me as if I were not here!” Katy/Isis shouted in the ancient tongue, causing more of the warriors to fall to their knees.
Ardeth felt his hands tremble. He clenched them into fists at his sides, stilling them. He took a step toward her, calling out softly, “Katebet?”
She turned and a brief flicker of recognition fluttered across her face. “Ankhefenmut?”
The Arab frowned. “Katy… it is me, Ardeth.”
“Ankhefenmut…”
She took a step forward and then her legs shook beneath her and Ardeth hurried toward her, scooping her into his arms as she fell into unconsciousness.
It was the soft rocking motion of the horse beneath her that finally roused Katy from her state of unconsciousness. The first sensation to hit her was a throbbing headache. The next was an intense queasiness in her stomach and as the bile rose in her throat, her eyes flew open and she called out to Ardeth, who held her:
“I’m gonna be sick!”
Ardeth brought his stallion to a halt just in time for Katy to jump down, sinking to her knees where she vomited into the sand. Following her down, Ardeth knelt beside her, not touching her but remaining until he was certain she was safe. Katy fell back once there was nothing left to come up, shaking uncontrollably. Her mind pulsed with images she could not keep it bay, let alone make much sense of. It was as if there were two people trying to inhabit one body – two lives, each with separate memories, differing personalities – and her body was attempting to reject it. She had only the barest memories of what had occurred – she had gone down to the spring and then she had felt something push through her body and suddenly she had been living another life, in another time…
I spoke ancient Egyptian! I don’t even know how! Katy trembled again, suddenly wanting to feel Ardeth’s comforting arms around her. She turned to him; hoping he could explain what had happened, offer her some solace. But he sat a distance from her, his head bowed. At the sound of her movement, he raised his hand, offering a bag of water. The memory of Ankhefenmut flittered through her mind. She took the water from him, taking a small swallow then handing it back.
“Ardeth… what… what happened?”
“I was hoping that you could tell me.” His voice was soft. He still refused to look at her.
“I don’t… that is…” She shook her head. “It was something… like a dream… only real. And then I heard voices inside of me and… and then it was over. I can’t explain it. Where are we?”
She climbed unsteadily to her feet, looking around the desert. Night had long ago fallen, shrouding them in darkness beneath millions of stars. There was a slight chill in the air, and she wrapped her arms around herself as she glanced up at the mounted warriors around her. None of them would look at her either. Katy frowned, turning back toward Ardeth who had stood, though his eyes remained on the sand beneath him.
“Ardeth? What is going on? Did I… do something wrong?”
“No… Katebet.”
Katy noticed his hesitation; his refusal to look at her. She approached him. “What is it? I’m not stupid, Ardeth. I can see that something is going on here.”
The Chieftain glanced at his warriors, who remained alert and at-the-ready on their horses. He considered what to tell her for a long moment before finally replying, “They believe you are the reincarnation of the goddess Isis.”
Katy first inclination was to laugh, but something that stirred deep within her stopped her from doing so. Instead, all she could muster was a grimace. “That’s ridiculous,” she told him half-heartedly, still not understanding. After what she had experienced, she did not feel she was sufficiently prepared to heatedly deny anything. “I mean, what would it matter if I was anyway?”
Ardeth continued to stare off into the distance, as if he were searching for something in the darkness. Her voice was the same and yet, there was something different in it, he thought silently. Twice, while sleeping against him during their ride away from the oasis, she had called out again in ancient Egyptian. First, she had spoken the name of Ankhefenmut, and then an ancient hymn to the god Ra. The scene at the oasis had been enough to cause the other Medjai warriors to believe, but Ardeth had been reluctant. He still warred with the proof that had been given to him, refusing to believe that she who he longed for could so easily be denied him.
“We are Medjai, Katy,” Ardeth told her finally, focusing on a sand dune ahead of them. “We are Guards of the Pharaohs, Protectors of the Past. We live by our traditions, the traditions set before us by our Ancestors.”
It was easier to make sense of hieroglyphs than the man before her, Katy thought with a frown. She sighed. “I’m afraid I still don’t understand what all this has to do with me.”
“They will not show disrespect by looking upon you, by exhibiting any behavior that may be construed as them considering themselves your equal.”
Katy’s mouth dropped open at his reply. She quickly closed it, casting a quick glance around her at the stoic warriors. Her temper flared. “Oh this is ridiculous! Will all of you look at me, please? I am simply Katy O’Connell. You know, the one who was stupid enough to go after that amulet in the first place.”
Nothing. She frowned, reflexively reaching for her neck, when she realized the amulet was no longer there. “Ardeth, where’d the amulet go? I mean, how…?”
“The spirit of Seth removed it for you.”
“He…” For some reason, Katy doubted that was a good thing. She moved up to Ardeth, placing a hand on his arm beseechingly. She felt him tense beneath her touch. “Ardeth, please. Tell your men to stop this. We have a lot of work to do and if they continue to behave in this manner…” She trailed off. The warrior still refused to look at her and a chill swept through her. “Ardeth?”
A pause. “Yes?”
“You… you don’t believe this, do you? You aren’t purposely being cold to me, right? You’re just… you’re just trying to stay alert in case anyone sneaks up on us. Right?”
Ardeth hated the pain he heard in her voice. He wanted to turn to her and assure her that… Assure her what? That everything happening around them wasn’t really happening? That the forces of fate had not played every hand to make certain they could not be together? To face her before his men, who so strongly believed that they were in the presence of Isis, would be a grave mistake from which he would be unable to save himself.
“You must understand…” he began, trailing off. What was she supposed to understand? What they shared was over, and there was nothing he could do about it.
This isn’t happening! Katy’s heart raged, tears springing unbidden to her eyes. They had been so close. She knew that after what they had shared at the oasis, he would have fought to keep her. He would have taken her back to the Elders with him and demanded that they be allowed to become husband and wife. He would not have let her go. But now, because of some stupid tradition, a foolish superstition –
Her hand rose involuntarily and slapped the warrior hard across the face. “You unbelievable bastard!” she cried. “I would have given up everything for you and now you hold me away as if I were some stranger!”
“Katy, please do not do this,” Ardeth begged, turning to her but still unable to meet her gaze. “You cannot begin to understand my people, our ways, our beliefs. I cannot simply turn away from them now; ignore them – especially after all I saw! Seth entered you and left without killing you. You suddenly speak ancient Egyptian! And your shoulder wound…” He trailed off.
Katy frowned, then quickly pulled her neckline aside to look at her shoulder. The bandages had been removed and she was faced with nothing more than skin. Clear, unblemished skin. Suddenly she felt as if she were teetering on the edge of a very steep canyon. At any moment, she would be pushed over the edge.
Ardeth cast a quick glance at her as she was regarding this recent piece of information that was such blatant proof that something… magical had occurred. His cheek still stung from the blow she had delivered to him but it was pain he gladly accepted. Pain that was nothing compared to what was going on inside him at that moment, as his heart slowly shattered. But as much as it hurt, he knew he would keep his distance. It would be unwise to anger the gods any further.
“Katy? We must be going if we are going to reach your brother.”
Mechanically, she nodded. Why should she fight anymore? He obviously refused to do so. So why should she? Ramses was brought before her and Katy climbed on, not bothering to look at Ardeth again. She remained silent as the warriors circled her, protecting her, and they moved forward into the night.