Reincarnation (6 page)

Was it why she had feared him at first sight?

Was the fear warranted, an omen?

Were they destined to tumble down some endless tunnel together? In a flash, she saw the

image again in her mind's eye. A shudder of fear ran up her spine and made her shoulders

quiver.

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On impulse, she drew two stick figures in the sand. She depicted them tumbling from a cliff.

She pointed to herself and to him.

He stared at her, his face filled with amazement. Then he nodded vigorously.

She drew the sign for sleep and gazed up at him with an inquiring expression.

Yes! Yes! He nodded and began to draw. He put together the pictures that made the sounds

for
dream.

He knew!

They
had
met in the dreamtime. She was sure of it now. He had experienced it, too.

He drew a circle between the two stick figures she'd drawn. "Amun-Ra?" she questioned,

knowing it was the sign for the sun.

Shaking his head, he began to write in the hieratic script educated people used when not

writing in formal hieroglyphics. She was able to read it, again because her father had taught

her to write basic bills of sale.

He wrote:
The green orb.

She nodded excitedly. "Yes! We both wanted the green, spinning jewel!"

Thrilled with their growing realization, they had drawn close to each other, their noses

nearly touching.

But now they drew away from each other warily.

Something about the green orb had frightened them both.

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Tetisheri didn't know where to look. She could no longer meet his eyes.

He also looked away uneasily.

"Are you well enough to pull the sled now?" she asked, getting to her feet, the old stiffness returning to her voice. "Ramose will be angry if he returns to see that we have not moved."

Still avoiding her eyes, the slave stood.

Tetisheri hobbled to the sled, settling back onto it. The throbbing in her foot resumed, white

hot.

Silently, the slave re-roped himself to the sled's handles and began to drag his burden

through the sand.

Ramose waited and watched at the edge of the courtyard as Tetisheri finished her song.

Nakht had thirteen other noblemen as guests this evening. They nodded appreciatively. In

the weeks she'd been at the house, her lovely voice had grown stronger as her confidence

had increased.

He was glad that he was stationed outside Luxor for the time being. It made it easy to come

visit her. Nakht appreciated the service he had performed for him and made him welcome.

When she was finished, she bowed and limped from the courtyard. Her foot was nearly

better, but she could not put her full weight on it. Ramose had brought her a cane with

golden hieroglyphic engraving. She placed her hand on his arm and he guided her out to a

bench in the garden.

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"Your voice grows more beautiful every day," he complimented. She thanked him and he

moved closer. "I will have to return to Nubia soon," he told her. "There are still pockets of rebels to be dealt with there. Before I go, I want to ask you to become my wife when I

return."

She did not smile in delight as he had hoped.

"Why not decide this after you return ? " she suggested.

Her evasiveness angered him and he stood, scowling. "Because I want to know your feelings

right now," he insisted. He pulled a pouch from his sword belt and presented it her. "I have brought you this as a token of my pledge to you."

She opened the pouch into her palm. It was an Eye of Horus pendant on a golden cord.

Within the turquoise eye was set a multifaceted glittering green emerald. "The jewel is from

the emerald mines of the south," he told her.

From the admiring way she held the pendant, he could see how much she loved it. "Ramose,

it is too beautiful," she murmured, clearly awestruck by the gift.

"It suits you."

She smiled lovingly down at the piece of green jewelry. But was the smile for him or his gift?

It had happened while Taharaq was feeding the geese. He had been told to cage one for the

evening meal, and as he had seized it around the neck, the enraged goose nipped his hand

hard.

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A Nubian curse flew from his mouth as he pulled his hand back. Sound.

The wound to his throat had healed.

Checking that there were no witnesses, he spoke a sentence in his native language. His

voice was a low rasp -- but it was a voice.

He closed his eyes to staunch tears of relief. This muteness had humiliated him. Now with a

voice, he had acquired a secret weapon and he decided to keep it a secret. Better to be

thought of as mute among these harsh people.

Feeling newly powerful, he grabbed the goose from behind. "I'm sorry," he whispered to it as he slipped a cord muzzle over its beak. "But we are both slaves and I have no choice."

Taharaq beheaded the goose and was bringing it into the kitchen when he noticed Nerfi

idling near the chopping table, fingering the dinner linens absently. There was something

about her he didn't trust. Perhaps it was that strange red wig, but he suspected it was more

her darting black eyes that put him on guard whenever she was near.

"I have been waiting here to ask you something," she said in a sensuous, insinuating tone.

She glanced at old blind Seth who sat by the large baking oven, pounding on a round of

dough. She nodded for Taharaq to follow her several feet farther away from him. "Do you

want to go home?" she asked quietly.

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His expression instantly registered interest in what she might propose, and she moved even

closer to him. "I have met a boatman who will smuggle slaves back down the Nile. It will

cost you. What have you to offer?"

Taharaq shook his head.

"I thought not," Nerfi continued. "This house is full of valuable things. See what you can steal and then signal to me. I will sell it for you and buy your passage home."

"I could go with you," she said, rubbing up against him. "We could both be free and you would have me by your side."

He saw what she was up to. She wanted him to risk stealing something valuable enough to

buy them both passage to Nubia. If he got caught, it would be his hands on the chopping

block, not hers. Once they were there she would no doubt desert him for a more prosperous

suitor.

I
am no thief, he thought contemptuously,
nor does your shallow allure tempt me.
It took all his discipline to keep silent.

Nerfi read his expression, however. "Or maybe you'd rather be a slave forever," she

suggested silkily. "It's your decision."

Tetisheri limped into the kitchen, aided by her cane. Nerfi's eyes darted to the gorgeous

green jeweled Eye of Horus she wore on a golden cord around her neck and then back to

Taharaq.

He looked away.

"There you are, Nerfi," Tetisheri said pleasantly.

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"Renenutet asks that you bring water to Nakht, who is in the study with his accounts." Nerfi grabbed a water pitcher and began to pump water into it.

"Your head, how does it feel?" Tetisheri asked.

Taharaq nodded. He had not had one of his blistering headaches since their trip through the

desert. He gestured toward her foot.

"It is getting better each day. Soon I won't need this cane," she answered the silent

question. "I do not know what the hieroglyphics on it mean. I can read a little but not

enough to tell what this says."

He gestured for her to give it to him. Leaning against the nearby chopping table, she

handed it over. A quick look was all he required to decipher it.

It was a story about the construction of the pyramids at Giza over a thousand years ago, and

how the high priests had studied the night sky and arranged for the three pyramids to align

with certain stars. It was a story that had always fascinated him. He wondered

why they had done this. Was this some sort of landing guide for gods who descended to

visit them at some time in the past? It was a mystery lost to antiquity, but one that the

people still pondered.

How could he silently convey this to her?

He checked on Nerfi's whereabouts and found her hovering near the door with her jug,

waiting to catch his eye. Seeing that she had it, she made a tiny but meaningful nod toward

Tetisheri's pendant, and then departed.

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When he and Tetisheri were at last free of Nerfi, his mind raced, wondering if he could share

his secret of new speech with her. He still had not made a decision when his mouth opened

and words came out. "It tells of the pyramids," he said with a quick glance at Seth, checking that the old man had not heard.

Mouth agape, Tetisheri stared at him.

He realized he had spoken in his own language. She had no idea what he'd told her, only

that he'd spoken. Her amazement made him smile. "It returned just today," he explained

softly, this time speaking in Egyptian.

She returned his smile. "You are healing."

He nodded. "Much better these days. Yes."

They stood together and he felt as though they were enveloped in an invisible web, as

though the
ka
life force that surrounded each person had formed one
ka
now containing both of them.

She felt it, too. Her face was unmistakably soft as she gazed into his eyes, seeking out some

part of him that was hidden. Whatever she sought, he longed to reveal it, just as strongly as

his physical body craved the touch of her golden skin.

"I long to talk with you," she said softly. "You are so different from me, come from so far away. I want to know everything about you."

Together they walked into the garden.

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Tetisheri grew to prize the time she spent with Taharaq in the garden. The mornings were

particularly good for talking together because she did not perform until the

evening.

She would rise early just to spend time with him as he tended the geese. He was careful to

keep his back to the kitchen window as he spoke to her, careful to always be engaged in

some chore. For her part, she worked on a silken wall-hanging that depicted cranes in flight.

It gave her an excuse -- she claimed she liked to sit out in the open air to work. It cleared

her head, she said.

With these cautions in place, they spent pleasurable hours together every day. With Ramose

away at war, she thought little of him and found that whenever her thoughts were not

engaged on some task, it was Taharaq who came to mind.

Tetisheri was amazed by the things Taharaq could tell her. She'd never realized the Nubian

culture was so rich. They had built pyramids before the Egyptians and had many more of

them. It was the Egyptians who had learned from the Nubians.

"We call our people Te-Seti," he told her, using the Nubian phrase. He had his back to the kitchen window and was planting small palms in a row by the back wall. "It means
land of

the bow,
since our people are proud of their skills as archers."

"And how did you learn to write so well?" she

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murmured, looking intently at her wall-hanging, pretending to be focused on the stitches.

He explained that his father had been a scribe at the royal palace. He was training his son to

do the same. Taharaq believed language was the most important skill a person could

possess and had worked hard to learn. But this had been cut short when he'd joined the

rebels.

"Nakht could use a scribe," she told him impulsively, putting down her craftwork, excited at the possibility. "It would not be as great as being a royal scribe, but Nakht is a rich and

powerful man. Write something and I will show him."

He nodded, still with his back to her.

The life of a scribe would be infinitely better for him than the life of a slave. She could never

think of marrying a slave ... but a scribe ...

One day, she noticed that his eyes were red, irritated. When she asked about it, he told her

that they had been bothering him lately. Tetisheri took a tin of green eye kohl from

the small bag at her waist. "Let me line your eyes with this," she offered. "It is the fashion, but it has a use. It contains ground copper, which protects against eye irritation."

"Is it fitting for a slave to wear?" he asked as he fed the geese in their pen.

She grunted disdainfully. "What does it matter? Besides, you are not a slave born and you

will not be a slave long. This will make you look more Egyptian. I will tell Nakht

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tonight about your skill and training as a scribe. You will soon begin your new life out of

slavery."

Ramose seethed as he watched them through the kitchen window. Blind Seth had told him

this was going on, had been occurring the whole time he was away in Nubia. Blind Seth

couldn't see, but his other senses more than made up for the lack.

Blind Seth hated him. He made no secret of this until Ramose had threatened to use his

influence with Nakht to have him thrown out of the household as useless. Once Seth was

good and afraid of him, he put him to use. The old man may have been an unlikely spy but

he was an effective one. They were sitting exactly as he'd said they would be.

Still, he would have known it himself, even if Seth hadn't informed. The song she'd sung the

night before -- it was a Nubian song! He'd heard it himself at a festival while he was there.

Where else could she have learned it but from the slave? And if he'd taught her a song, it