by Ruth
This is a sidefic to the marvelous series "The Prince of Nekheb" by Lady Bast. I highly recommend it - a wonderful Quatre-centered AU set in Ancient Egypt. [read The Prince of Nekheb]
# = memories
The palace stank. A thick cloud of incense, herbs and natron hung over the Golden House of Nekheb. Already the Prince, Amunmose, was in the House of the Dead. There his body would be carefully prepared for his journey to the royal tombs. In the temples, many priests began the chants that would prepare his soul for his journey to the Afterlife.
The Pure One, Set-Aket-Dua of Kom Ombo, was not like the priests of the temples. He tended towards chaos rather than order, as befitting his patron, red-haired Set. The tawny, lean muscled youth also wore his chestnut hair in a long braid that was considered both barbaric and scandalous. He would be damned if he lifted one prayer for Amunmose's soul.
The palace oppressed him. He needed air. Dua headed to the nearest courtyard and a tall decorative palm. Taking off his sandals, he used hands and feet like a monkey to climb to the roof. Finding a comfortable spot, he contemplated the night sky. It was the half-moon, balanced between light and dark.
"Balance," his old teacher, He-uat, had said, "must be in everything or Ma'at is destroyed."
Well, Dua thought as he folded his hands behind his head, savoring the warmth still in the gravel of the rooftop. The bastard has thrown Ma'at out on her head. And he's left behind a hell of a legacy in Katrah-en.
All in Nekheb worked to make the city run as smoothly as a water clock, but their yoke was one of fear. Their new prince already sought to take over his father's terrible goad.
Dua sighed as he remembered the chill in those blue eyes, the hardness and suspicion in his childhood friend's voice. Amunmose lived over again in his son. Wufei had withered into a silent, dutiful shadow, like his father before him. Dua did not want to become his father all over again. Set-Metekra paid too high a price for service to his king and to Nekheb.
He can't make me do anything I don't want to. He scowled up at the sky.
A tiny cry echoed across the roof top. A plaintive, lost wail that begged for help. Dua tried not to hear it and failed. With a sigh, he stood up and picked his way over the roofs.
A huge, shaggy date palm loomed up from a courtyard. The anxious call came from near its summit, about six feet from the roof. Dua came to the trunk and squinted into the shadowy tuft of fronds. A pair of amber eyes glittered back at him.
"There you are!" he said. "What are you doing here? Hey! Don't climb away, you idiot, I'm trying to help!" He scrambled up and fished from the foliage a soft scrap of fur that mewed and dug in with tiny needle claws. She, or so he assumed, was some light color with a cheetah-like pattern across her back, a tail that looked far too long for the rest of her and little white spots on the tips of her front toes.
"Well, little Miw [1] what brought you all the way up here?" Dua asked.
A sad meow was his answer. She sniffed his hand delicately, then scrubbed her cheeks over his fingers with acceptance. Dua tucked her into the collar of his tunic, where the little daughter of Bast snuggled under his braid and purred. He scrambled down the palm. At the bottom was a shamelessly overgrown garden; there was something familiar about it, something he couldn't put his finger on. Just beyond a barrier of weeds was a filthy, scum choked bathing pool.
"No," he murmured. "It can't be . . . ."
The kitten gave a squeak of disapproval as he spun quickly to find a distinctive doorway in the palace wall.
And the past looking back at him.
# "It doesn't even look like me," pouted the young golden prince as he scowled at the wall painting. The three friends and their mothers had gathered in the Chief Wife's garden to see what the Royal Portrait artist had done. "We're all standing funny." He tried to screw his body into the position that would leave his legs and head in profile while his torso faced straight ahead. He failed.
"Shh, dear," Princess Nefermeri pinched his ear. "It's the classic style."
"But my hair's not black, and why did he draw Ba-het and Dua as being shorter than us? And he drew Jia and Wufei even shorter."
"It's to show we're royalty, dear we stand above every one." She pinched his ear again. "Now, behave, Katrah-en." The artist came in, bowing before them. Nefermeri was fulsome in her praise, then gave her son a little poke.
"It's a very nice painting," said Katrah-en dutifully, "even if it doesn't look like me," he added under his breath. Dua sniggered. Ba-het gave her son's braid a little tug.#
"No," Dua shook his head. "No." The ghosts from old memories crowded the shadows on the night winds that eddied off the river. He had to face the ghosts if he was to hear the message they were trying to impart. He was not about to face them sober. If he remembered correctly, one of the guard posts was around the corner.
# "Betcha can't," young Katrah-en hissed as he and Dua tip-toed barefoot on a forbidden after-bedtime excursion."
"Betcha I can," Dua whispered back. He slipped into the barracks, carefully timing his steps to the guard's snores. There were a number of jugs in the corner, cooling in bowls of water. He picked up one and backed out as carefully as he came in. The two friends scooted back to the Chief Wife's apartments where an anxious Wufei was keeping watch.
"Our mothers didn't wake up," he reported. "What's that?"
"Beer!" Dua grinned.
"We're not supposed to have that," Wufei frowned.
"You chicken?" dared Katrah-en. A scowl was his answer as the three went out into the garden.#
Dua set his purloined beer on the cool, marble bench that overlooked the river and chuckled. The three had been so sick the next day that the mothers had agreed the boys had punished themselves better than they could have. Moonlight rippled over the waters as the heavy clumps of bulrushes swayed. Dua coaxed the kitten from behind his braid. He placed her gently on the ground and offered the wing of a duck he'd filched along with the beer. Miw sniffed, pounced and began to eat.
Dua took a long pull of the jug and sighed. In his mind's eye, he could see the garden as it once was; neatly tended, well watered and flagrant, full of light and laughter. . .
Nefermeri was impeccably dressed in snow-white linen and vivid bead jewelry. She wore an elegant wig with gold ribbons woven into it. Her proud, beautiful face hardly resembled the stuffy, classical painting. Her mouth was more generous and made for smiling. Her nose was a trifle crooked, but that was something no one spoke of. Jia was taller, slimmer, her skin golden honey to Nefermeri's warm toast. She wore no wig and her rich hair was a true blue-black. Her simple gown was of creamy, unbleached linen. Ba-het also wore a simple gown, but his mother usually wore varied shades of blue. She rarely put on a wig and her hair hung in a long, sun-rusted brown braid down her back. Her creamy skin didn't tan with the sun, but erupted into a myriad of freckles. Set-Metekra had given her an oval pendant made of a violet-colored stone that just matched her eyes.
Naunet would be following them, carrying Jia's mending basket, or Nefermeri's little writing desk or any one of a dozen things they might need. Naunet was the darkest brown a person could be, with tightly curled hair she'd braid close to her head. Nefermeri gave her clothes of bright green and yellow. She was a skilled flute player and had one of the gardeners for her lover. The boys had often spied on her as she laughed softly in the bushes. As Dua grew older, she was the subject of many pleasant dreams.
"OW!" he yelled. He had stretched out on the marble bench, lost in his memories, his braid, wound in red and gold ribbons dangling off one side. Having finished as much as she wanted of the duck, Miw was energetically swinging on it. "Stop it! Off! Cut that out, you little night demon!" He pulled the kitten up to his chest. He shook his finger at her and she attacked it, wrapping her forelegs around it and soft-biting in play. He tipped her over on her back. "Are you bored?" She brought up her hind legs to try and disembowel his palm. He shook her off and she rolled to all fours, her tail making question marks in the air. Dua chuckled. "Is that how you got yourself in trouble? It's easy to get in trouble when you're bored. . ." She scooted off by his hip and peeped over the edge of the bench. Sitting upright, he took another long pull of the jug and frowned up at the stars. Sirius, the Delta star that marked the coming of the flood was high above the horizon line. Miw examined the top of the beer jug, sneezed at its contents and settled herself on Dua's left thigh to wash herself. Dua lightly stroked her soft fur, his gaze turning back to long ago, on a day in this season, once upon a time.
# "Can't catch me!" Wufei taunted as he sprinted down one of the tended paths to the river. Sleek and golden, he streaked like a hunting greyhound.
"You're not supposed to out run me!" Katrah-en wailed from behind, his fair skin had reddened as it always did before browning.
"Then keep up, slowpoke!" Dua yelled as he drew even with Wufei. Unlike his mother, Dua turned a warm, rosy brown with the sun.
"Aket-Dua! Slow down!" shrilled Ba-het.
"Wufei! Wait for the Prince!" called Jia.
"Oh, let them play," said Nefermeri serenely. The three mothers arranged themselves on the bench. Sirius had risen, the yearly flood had come and gone. From their bench, the palace women would be able to see the sacred barge and the rites of the priests as they blessed and praised Hapi, the guardian of the river, begging fertility for the crops. All the boys agreed it would be boring. They were more interested in the picnic lunch in a large reed basket being carried by Naunet. She scowled with mock ferocity and slapped their fingers away.
Wufei led the way as they ranged up and down the riverbank. A small herd of sacred hippos waddled into the shallows, munching river plants and snoozing. The boys yelled and sent a handful of stones pattering into the water, an egret started from the reeds. The horses of Taweret merely waggled their ears.
"Aw, phooey!" grumbled Katrah-en. "Bad enough we've got to watch a boring old ceremony, now we can't even go swimming because of the boring old hippos."
"Hippos scare away crocodiles," said Wufei solemnly. "We wouldn't be able to go swimming because of crocodiles if the hippos weren't here."
"Phooey," Katrah-en bounced a stone off one hippo's flank. It snorted and rolled slowly away. "Do they ever move fast?"
Dua bounced on the balls of his feet, an idea beginning. "Listen," he said. "Listen, my Dad's got something that makes horses go fast."
"Really?" The other two looked at him.
"Y-yeah, that's how he won the bet with Omendap on the chariot races. He fed these special little balls to the horses and they beat everyone!"
Dua paused, not quite sure where to go from there.
"Think they'd make these old hippos move?" Katrah-en asked, his eyes sparkling.
"Dunno," Dua admitted.
"Let's find out!" It wasn't hard to reach Set-Metekra's workshop. Dua found the horse pellets quickly enough. The trio ran back to the riverbank. After some discussion, they decided their best course was to wait until one of the great beasts yawned and pitch the medicine in. They missed the first time, but dispensed the last pellets into at least three hippos before Naunet came looking for them.
They tried to look innocent, but Naunet took Katrah-en by the ear, Dua by the braid and Wufei by the ponytail and dragged them back, reporting that they'd been throwing things at the sacred beasts. Nefermeri scolded all three and made them sit in front of her as the priestly barge came gliding down the river.
Huy, the high priest of Hapi was in the bow. He was immensely dignified. His snowy robes alone could have made three dresses for Nefermeri. His bald head gleamed as brightly as his gold ornaments as his nasal voice rose and fell over the waters, accompanied by harp and sistra. He paused for breath and one of the hippos bawled.
There was more bawling and horrible gargling noises. The still waters erupted as two of the beasts emerged, their mouths wide open and dueling with their tusks. The Captain of the guards came running along the bank with an archery squad. He shouted an apology to the First Wife and ordered the bowmen to fire at the hippos. One dove under the surface. The second reared up, bawling as an arrow caught it in the eye.
Servants and acolytes screamed. The wounded hippo turned, blood turning the water red around it and rammed the barge. The boat rose up on one side. Huy gave a startling, high-pitched shriek as he fell forward, waving his arms wildly. His belly struck the water first with a huge splat. Boatmen poled out swiftly to rescue the people on the barge.
The wounded hippo reached deeper water, but swift, lean shadows were converging. It bawled again as the crocodiles attacked. The hippo thrashed and flailed, actually flinging a crocodile into the air with its death throws.
All three boys had their mouths open. They had never imagined causing anything like this.
Ba-het's face was white and she seized her son. "What were you throwing at those hippos?" she demanded. "Aket-Dua, you tell the truth!"
"J-j-just the pellets D-dad fed the chariot horses," Dua confessed.
"Oh, Isis!" Nefermeri put her hands over her mouth. "What were you trying to do?"
"I wanted the hippos to move," Katrah-en kicked the toe of his sandal at the dirt. "I didn't think anything like this would happen." He looked back at the river. They all watched as two boatmen hauled Huy out of water. He was red-faced and coughing, a long piece of water weed draped over his head.
Katrah-en quickly stifled his giggle. Wufei hid his mouth behind both hands. Dua held his breath, but couldn't help quivering all over.
"Into the palace! Now!" ordered Nefermeri as she ran down to the bank to offer sympathy and shelter to the older man..#
Dua broke off from the memory. His jug was empty. He considered stealing another, but was far too comfortable, with a pleasant buzz in his head. Miw finished washing herself and was content to bat at the tassels of his belt as he wiggled them for her. He sighed softly.
# Nefermeri punished them with her own hands, using a pliant branch to redden their buttocks until they were in tears.
"Have you any idea what you've done?" she demanded as she striped them. "You are members of the Golden House! You have been given privileges beyond the ordinary and therefore you have great responsibilities. You must do no harm and uphold Ma'at. Everyone, from the lowliest child of a field hand to Pharaoh himself, may he live long and prosper, answers to Ma'at. You must do no harm, no evil!" She was shaking when she finished. The boys had never seen her in such a rage and it frightened them. "You are responsible for the people being frightened. You are responsible for the High Priest being upset."
Her next punishment turned out to be not as dire as she had planned. She assigned the boys to work under Ihy, the grounds keeper responsible for maintaining her garden. Ihy was also Naunet's lover. The physical labor was hard, but the prospects of being allowed to get as dirty as they wanted pleased the boys for the first two weeks.
Huy never left the palace. He developed a fever from his dunking in the river. Nefermeri marched the trio to Sekhmet's temple and made them each sacrifice a favorite possession for the High Priest's health. Seven days later, a wail of mourning was heard as Huy succumbed to his illness. The children were sent out into the garden while the mothers gravely discussed what was to be done.
"It wasn't our fault he got sick," said Katrah-en as they sat on the bench, unusually subdued. He pulled his knees up and rested his chin on one, pouting a little. "It wasn't."
"He might not have gotten sick if he hadn't fallen in the river," Dua argued. "So it was our fault."
"We didn't mean it," Wufei picked up a small stone and tossed it into the bushes.#
Miw tired of the tassels and jumped off the bench to finish off her duck's wing. Dua sighed and rubbed his eyes. In hindsight, he realized that whatever was left of the hippo's carcass would have washed up near the garden. The rotten meat would draw rats and the rats were what drew the monster Wufei's innocent stone brought out.
#An incredible hiss startled them. A lash of dark brown whipped from the foliage and reared up, hood spread and fangs displayed. It was a cobra.
"Uatchet!" Dua shrieked. They'd all been told stories of the cobra goddess, sister to the vulture Nekhebet who watched over the city. Uatchet rose with fire and venom to attack all who violated the right order of things.
"Don't move!" cried Wufei. The enraged snake turned to face first one, then another.
"Me!" Katrah-en yelped, stepping in front of his friends. "It's my fault! I wanted to bother the hippos! I'm the one who started them fighting! Leave them alone, it's me you want." The cobra gave a warning hiss.
Dua and Wufei were hauled to the other side of the bench by strong dark hands. They landed on the ground to see Naunet, completely nude, having slipped out for a tryst while everyone else had siesta. She jumped over the bench and lunged for Katrah-en just as the snake did. Katrah-en landed with a thump on the bench. The cobra recoiled. Naunet clutched her arm. Ihy, also nude, came flying with a bronze hoe. He feinted and struck, pinning the snake's head to the ground with the blade of the hoe. One of the guards, drawn by the noise, chopped it to pieces with a sword.
Dua never knew how his father reached them so fast. He was the one who lashed a tight cord around Naunet's arm and cut open the punctures, forcing out the poison with the blood. She was taken into the Chief Wife's apartments. The hysterical boys were pulled into Ba-het's rooms where she and Jia spent the rest of the day and most of the night soothing them. Set-Meketra came in just before dawn with the news that Naunet would live -- but Uatchet had claimed a sacrifice. Naunet had been pregnant with her lover's child. She had miscarried from the poison.#
Miw pounced on his foot. Dua wiped at his eyes. He didn't remember seeing Naunet smile after that. Nefermeri brought before the King the tale of how the gardener had saved their son. Amunmose rewarded Ihy with a land of his own and Naunet as his wife. It wasn't much of a happy ending, but at least they were well away from the palace when the real disasters came.
"Yes," he said quietly to the ghosts. "Yes, I understand. It was not right that Naunet paid the price for the Prince's folly. It is not right that Nekheb pay the price for Amunmose's madness. I will find a way to make the Prince accept his responsibility. I will find a way to restore Ma'at." He smirked. "Law must be balanced with a little Chaos. That I am good at!"
He scooped up Miw. "Well, little Miw, you're the one that brought me here. I think you deserve a reward." He rubbed noses with her. "In the kitchens is a women who bakes sweet cakes for the Prince. She has a daughter who has just turned nine. I think her daughter will like you very much. Yes, in fact, I am sure of it."
He tucked her up behind his braid again. He must write to He-uat. There was an idea his teacher had, something called a scorpion whip?
He paused and looked at the old painting. "I'll get this garden back to what it was, I swear."
It must have been a trick of the moonlight that made the stiff formal figure of the Chief Wife smile.
[1] Miw -- onomatopoeic egyptian for "cat"