Bast's Warrior Read online

  “Kashe.” His father’s voice stabbed like a dagger.

  He groaned and sat up. The drum in his head banged. Leave me alone, he wanted to shout. The nomarch of Mero’s anger toward his middle son was nothing new. What did he want now?

  As second son Kashe had been marked for the priesthood. He had no desire to become a priest. He found satisfaction in his role as a warrior. Yet, duty called for obedience.

  If any other temple had been chosen he might have agreed. He had no taste for this newly risen cadre of men seeking to force their god into the circle of goddesses and gods of the Two Lands. Aken Re had been unknown until the invaders had arrived. The army of those men had been defeated so why did their priests linger?

  The beaded curtain jangled adding cacophonic notes to the beating in his head. “Answer me.” The nomarch entered and halted at the foot of Kashe’s bed. “Rise and present yourself in the central hall. We have guests. Your older brother has news of importance.”

  Kashe groaned. He and Pian were a year apart in age and generations in philosophy. In embracing the new religion Pian had seen an advantage for bringing his ambitions to fruition. He believed the priests would smooth his path to the pharaoh’s chair.

  Kashe sat on the edge of the bed and considered his brother and his plans. Pian was slender and shorter than Kashe. Pian fit the picture of an ideal pharaoh in appearance but not in character. He was cruel and selfish. His sense of justice and honor were lacking. He had no love for Kashe. “Throwback” was the mildest of the names Pian used as needles to jab his younger brother. Kashe had strengths Pian lacked. Every match on the training field had ended with Kashe as the victor.

  He rose. He couldn’t help that in stature and build he resembled the Nubian ancestors his father and older brother chose to forget in their desire for power. If Pian became pharaoh the nomarch of Mero would become his son’s chief advisor.

  “Are you coming?” his father asked.

  If he said no who knew what would happen. Kashe stretched. “As soon as I wash and dress.” Though he would rather have bathed he would make do here. He glanced in the polished metal mirror. His warrior’s braid was neat enough. He poured water from a pitcher into a basin and washed. After donning a fresh kilt he fitted wrist and arm bands and selected a collar necklace.

  As Kashe left the family sleeping quarters he braced for the evening meal, the main one of the day. He entered the central hall and hid a desire to duck behind one of the pillars. On the dais his parents sat with a pair of priests. Their gold medallions glittered in the torch light. Pian stood before the men.

  As Kashe neared the platform he noticed the robes were embroidered with gold-rayed discs representing their god. The pair were opposites. One was rotund, smiling and fluttering his hands while speaking. The other was lean with a hawk-like nose and a somber expression. Kashe noticed his younger brother lingered in the shadows near the dais. If anything was to be learned Namose would know.

  The nomarch gestured. Kashe strode past his sisters who were engaged in a board game and gossip. When Pian’s voice took on a tone both servile and arrogant Kashe grimaced.

  “My lords, Oris Aken Re and Hebu, beloved of Aken Re, has the daughter been found? I so desire to look in her face and claim her as my chief wife. The honor you offer humbles me.”

  The rotund priest’s smile broadened. “As yet we have not found her but the signs point to where she is hidden. When the auspicious hour arrives we will claim her.” He turned from Pian to the nomarch. “You know the price.”

  The nomarch pointed to Kashe. “My lords of Aken Re, this is Kashe, my middle son. He is skilled with weapons and has a vast knowledge of strategy. He will enter your temple as a priest.”

  Both men studied Kashe. Their gazes moved from his head to his feet. Embarrassment and shame over the avidity of their appraisal made him flush. He was not some piece of livestock or a slave to be purchased. A cauldron of anger bubbled.

  Oris Aken Re rubbed his fleshy hands. “Indeed, he is magnificent.”

  The thin priest’s eyes narrowed. He addressed his companion in an unfamiliar language. “Nomarch, he will do nicely,” he added.

  Kashe wanted to rub his arms to ward off a sudden chill but he wouldn’t allow the pair to see his distaste and fear. He kept his gaze steady and examined the thin priest. Hebu’s eyes were serpent-like, dull and flat. Kashe’s hands formed fists. Though Oris had been named as the chief priest, his companion was the more dangerous of the pair. Another thing became clear. Hebu belonged to the defeated enemy. Kashe had heard that language from a prisoner his father had brought to the compound as a slave.

  Oris nodded. “He will be the perfect battle leader for our men.”

  Pian made a face. “He will be yours when I become pharaoh.”

  The nomarch shook his head. “He will be theirs when I decree.”

  Kashe drew a deep breath. “Father, I beg you to change your mind. I have no desire to serve in any temple. I’m no scholar and have no knowledge of portents and omens. I’ve no wish for easy living or in having my days ordered by rituals that allow no freedom.” He turned to leave.

  His father grasped his arm. “You will obey. Your sacrifice will undo all your willfulness and the shame your tainted heritage has brought to me. When this new moon completes the cycle you will enter the temple of Aken Re.”

  Though Kashe remained until the evening meal ended his thoughts centered on finding a way to escape his father’s command. He had to leave home but where would he go? He listened to his father, older brother and the priests as they made plans. Finding the missing daughter of the last pharaoh was their goal. The priests sought her. So did his father. The one who found her first would control the future of the Two Lands.

  As soon as the meal ended Kashe retreated to his sleeping chamber. He had no desire to listen as more schemes were hatched and scenarios developed. He thought of escaping to his favorite beer house but not tonight. The entourage accompanying the priests was quartered on the roof of the house and in the garden. He had no desire to have his departure noted.

  Kashe parted the beaded curtain and strode into his chamber. A pile of scrolls stood on the low table. He opened one and crushed the thin papyrus sheet. “The Ways of Aken Re, the True and Only God.”

  Distaste curved his mouth into a scowl. He wanted to burn the scrolls or slash them to shreds. Not a good idea, he decided. Know your enemy. His mentor had repeated those words until they were engraved in Kashe’s mind. Though Tuten had meant this advice for contests of arms Kashe believed they applied to his current situation. He would read the scrolls but not tonight. The crescent moon didn’t provide enough light. Neither would the saucer lamp. He retired to bed for a night’s sleep filled with dreams he wanted to forget.

  For two days Kashe read. The contents of the scrolls disgusted him. The priests of Aken Re had diluted and twisted the teachings of the temples of the Two Lands and skewed them to fit their version of the world. They intended to make their god supreme. There were tales in the scrolls telling how Aken Re had defeated the ancient goddesses and gods of the Two Lands, major and minor and eaten their essences.

  He finished the last scroll. What now? Did the rotund priest intend to remain here until the moon ended? The serpent-eyed one had vanished. Most of the entourage was now housed near the river. The departure of the strangers had relieved some of Kashe’s fears. Not all for he had no plan to escape the fate his father had decreed.

  With a scowl he scooped the scrolls and carried them to the west loggia. There, he dumped them in a heap on one of the low tables. As he neared his chamber he heard two of the slaves speaking. Their gossip made him smile. The remaining priest planned to leave in two or three days.

  Kashe returned to his chamber and went to the window. When a large hawk landed on the sill he stepped back. He stared at the avian. The bird made no attempt to attack. Kashe held out his arm. The hawk dropped a scroll and an amulet that landed on the floor with a click. The avian s
ettled on Kashe’s wrist cuff. He stared into its eyes.

  “Horu,” Kashe said.

  The hawk’s head bobbed as though in answer. “Horru.”

  Did hawks have names? “I’ll call you Horu Ka, soul of the god of the skies.” The bird returned to the window. Kashe picked up the gold amulet. A grin crossed his face as he read the hieroglyphics. “Chosen of Horu.” Here was the perfect reason to refuse his father’s plans for him. Would the nomarch and Pian accept the calling? Kashe was sure he would learn.

  He lifted the scroll and read the words.

  Three will come from afar; warrior, ruler and advisor will be joined by three from the Two Lands. United they will drive away those who seek to destroy the land and the people. Success brings prosperity. Failure means death. During the time when each pair works to complete their task they may not join flesh to flesh. Celibate they must remain until their quest ends lest disaster strikes the Two Lands.

  He walked from his chamber into the central hall where the family and the priest had gathered for the evening meal. His father gestured. “You’ve been hiding in your chamber for days. Have you decided to obey?”

  Kashe shrugged. “I’ve been reading the scrolls. They’re in the loggia. The words left me with no desire to become a priest of Aken Re. What I read sounded like lies.”

  Pian jumped to his feet. “You will not usurp my place. I will be pharaoh. All the power and wealth of the double crown will be mine.”

  “I have no wish to rule or serve the priests.”

  The nomarch glared. “You have been promised to them. Your battle skills will be needed to bring the stubborn people of this land to worship the one and only god.”

  Oris Aken Re smiled. “You cannot resist. You are ours.”

  Kashe sucked in a breath. We’ll see, he thought. The amulet burned against his chest. He leaned forward and wondered why they didn’t see the medallion. Was it invisible for a reason? He ate and fled to his room. As he walked down the hall he heard the slap of sandals on the stone and braced for an attack.

  “Kashe, you must listen to them,” his younger brother said. “If you disobey Father, the priest will send serpents after you.”

  “Don’t fret little brother. Come to my chamber. I’ve something to show you.” Kashe parted the curtains so Namose could enter first. “This is why I can’t go.” He held out the amulet. “A hawk brought this to me.”

  Namose studied the gold circle. “Chosen of Horu.” He looked up and gasped. “At the window.”

  Kashe grinned and extended his arm for the bird. “Horu Ka, this is Namose, my younger brother.” The hawk tilted his head. “As you see I’ve been selected by the god of the skies.”

  Namose nodded. “And you will leave home.”

  “I believe I must.”

  “I want to go with you.” The youth’s dark eyes held a plea. “If you can’t serve them I fear Father will send me or one of our sisters to their temple. The priests have a son or daughter from every nome except Mero in their service. They want Father and Pian to follow their orders. Our nome is the largest and richest of all. I don’t trust the priests. If I must serve a god I would choose Toth, the god of wisdom.”

  Kashe looked away. Since he had no idea where to go, how he could take a boy who had just reached his fifteenth year? “You must remain here until I can find a safe place. Then I will send for you.”

  “Do you mean that?”

  “Yes.” Kashe studied his younger brother. Here was the male member of the family with a strong knowledge of the land. If only their father didn’t favor Pian. The oldest son was their father’s favorite. Namose, the youngest, was ignored by the nomarch and favored by their mother.

  “When are you going?”

  “Not tonight. I’m going to a beer house to think.” He pushed Namose to the door. “Better if you don’t see me leave. If they discover I’m out you can truthfully say you left me in my chamber.”

  Namose paused outside the curtain. “Good thinking.”

  Kashe waited until his brother vanished before crossing to the window. He slipped out and crept across the garden to the rear gate. Once beyond the wall, the hawk landed on his wrist guard. Kashe strode to the riverside village. A few mugs of beer and a good fight might be an outlet for the energy coursing through his body.

  Chapter 3

  Tira opened her eyes and stifled a gasp. Where was she? The surface beneath her was softened by a thin pad. She turned her head and bumped her temple against a hard surface. Some kind of headrest prevented her from appraising her vicinity. The substitute for a pillow wasn’t very comfortable. The cover felt like linen rather than the thin cotton sheet she used. She raised herself to a sitting position and the sheet slid to her waist. Light streamed through a series of openings set high on one of the white plastered walls.

  Her heart fluttered in a series of rapid beats. Think. Had she been kidnapped and sold as some kind of sex slave? She drew a deep breath. Why did nothing smell familiar? She was Tira. Tears trickled down her cheeks. Someone had died. Why couldn’t she remember who had betrayed her?

  Tira wiped her face on a corner of the sheet. With that word memories prickled with the same sensation in her head as when an arm or leg woke after falling asleep.

  If you could go to ancient Egypt tonight even if the Two Lands is not the one you’ve studied, would you go?

  She had agreed. Had she somehow been transported to another Egypt? So far she’d seen nothing to prove or disprove the theory. The bed and the headrest had been pictured in books she’d read about the ancient land of the pharaohs.

  Now what? She couldn’t remain in bed and she definitely couldn’t leave this room in the nude. Clothing was her first objective. She slid from the narrow cot and nearly fell. The bed stood on a wide platform. Tira visually explored the room and noticed a stack of near-white cloth on a backless bench. She wrapped the sheet around herself and crossed the room.

  On a low table she found a pottery pitcher and a bowl. She dipped a cloth taken from the rim of the bowl into the water and washed. The heated air dried her skin.

  As she studied the bench she noticed the legs were shaped like the feet of a feline. She drew a deep breath. She had arrived in ancient Egypt. One by one she lifted the pieces of cloth from the bench and studied them. Get dressed and learn where you are and why you’re here.

  After several attempts she managed to clothe herself. One strip formed a breast band. A second, she used as a loincloth. The third was a wraparound short skirt rather like a kilt. A leather belt held a knife and a pouch containing a black substance she decided was kohl. Since she had no idea how to apply the stuff she decided to pass.

  She looked for shoes and found sandals. She sat on the bench and slipped a foot beneath the leather straps. She drew the shin guards up her leg and fastened the leather ties. Surprisingly they fit. The leather soles didn’t slip on the stone floor when she performed a series of warm-up exercises.

  The beaded curtains in the doorway rattled. Tira slid into an attack position. Two elderly women entered the room. Tira stared. Were they the ones who had sheltered her for a time? They looked similar.

  One of the women wore the same clothes as Tira. Her graying hair was cropped short like Tira’s but the woman’s didn’t curl.

  The second woman’s hair was dark and cut shoulder length. Was it a wig? The woman’s ankle-length sheath bared her breasts. A collar necklace covered her upper chest.

  When Tira tried to talk about the world she’d left the words wouldn’t form.

  The only knowledge you can take with you is what will fit into the time you reach except for your fighting skills. You will be unable to speak of this world or of modern conveniences.

  She glided toward the women. If they proved to be a threat she would attack.

  “Welcome to the Two Lands,” the older of the two said. “I am the chief priestess of this temple of the goddess Bast, protector of women and children. A cat with a cream-colored coat wove a p
ath around her legs.

  Bast. She had read about the goddess, one of the minor ones in the ancient Egypt of her world. Was Bast a major player in this time and place? What other changes would she find? She swallowed a gasp. How odd that she understood the language. “My name is Tira.” She could speak it as well. She crouched and allowed the feline to sniff her hand.

  The priestess smiled. “Come and join us for a meal. We will tell you why you are with us. You are one of the awaited ones. There is a task the goddess has set for you.” She turned to her companion. “Do you have the amulet that marks her as a warrior of Bast?”

  “I do.” The other woman smiled. “I am the head of the warriors of this temple. Do you willing accept your task?”

  Even if you must remain for all your days.

  Again she heard part of what the elderly women of the brownstone had asked. She was here and there was no possible return. “I do.” She met the woman’s gaze. “What if I fail?”

  The priestess shuddered. “There will be imprisonment or death.”

  Tira swallowed. But she would have found the same future in her own world. “I won’t fail.” She made the vow aloud and silently.

  The warrior held a chain of silver links with a large silver medallion hanging from the center link. Tira studied the piece. A cat formed from smoky blue-gray gems formed the center of the circle. Above the image were lapis hieroglyphics. Tira read them. “Chosen of Bast.” She bent her knees so the shorter woman could slip the chain over her head/

  “Where in the Two Lands am I?”

  “In the nome of Mero.”

  Tira pictured a map of the Nile and didn’t recognize the name. Was she in the north or the south? “Where exactly is this nome?”

  “Near the first cataract,” the chief priestess said.

  In the south, Tira thought.

  “Come.”

  Tira followed the women along a corridor. The wall on the left was higher than the one on the right. Did the left wall form the rear of the temple?