The Queen stretched out her arms and welcomed the coming of the night. Beneath Nut's black shroud, she could travel without fear that word of her whereabout might reach her brother's ears. Long gone was the regal gowns of silk and linen, replaced with the rough, itchy fabric of the commoner. A dark shawl covered her hair while a long, black veil disguised her face. To those who encountered her, she appeared as little more than a widow in mourning.
The captain of the barge on which the Queen found herself was a crude man with a fondness for beautiful, young women. Convincing him to grant her passage on his boat had been easy. A few flirtatious words and a brief glimpse of her bare thigh had been more than enough for him to offer her safe passage to Abydos. Thus, the Queen and her two most trusted priestesses – cleverly disguised as slaves – accompanied the well-preserved body of her husband as they sailed quietly along the gentle river.
The barge's elongated cabin was softly lit by lanterns that reeked heavily of rendered animal fat. Its walls were manufactured by reeds tightly woven together to prevent entry from both light and weather. The queen took a knee beside the funereal bed where her husband's body lie supine beneath a roof made of thatched palm. His body still reeked of pungent anointing oils while thick plumes of frankincense and myrrh engulfed him. She took the dead man's hand into her own, careful not to disturb the ornate wrappings stretched around him. When she lowered her head, she couldn't help but allow the tears to escape. He had been her lover and her king, and now he was gone. She'd done everything within her power to bring him back, but it had all been for naught. Cosmic judgment had been administered, fixed and non-transmutable.
"Osiris, my beloved," she bemoaned softly into her chest. "Gone from me, forever shall you be. Though I mourn your passing, I wish you safe passage into the underworld. May your new kingdom be as blessed and prosperous as the one you've left behind."
It was late when the barge finally made port in Abydos. The crew hurried to secure the barge for the evening, lest they miss their opportunity for visiting the local taphouse to quench their thirst for beer and women.
A group of priests dressed in white linen crossed by sashes made of leopard skin approached the boat. Beneath the brilliant glow of a dozen burning lamps, the queen stepped off the barge. The high priest at the head of welcoming party knelt before her and planted two gentle kisses upon her naked feet. Four lower class priests marched past her with a stretcher made of cedar branches and animal skin. With great strength, the men placed the heavily atrophied body of their king upon the stretcher, wrapped him in the finest of linens, and carried him away back to the temple, followed by a procession of other priests who chanted their sacred hymns while cleansing the path with billows of incense smoke emanating from swinging censers attached to golden chains. The queen's faithful priestesses walked before her, carrying the torches that lit her way for as she followed the chanting procession, her head weighted down with grief.
Abydos. The Sacred City. Her husband had loved this place ever since the first visit. For years, the king and the queen of Kemet would sail up and down the river Ar, visiting the countless tribes and teaching them the arts of agriculture, husbandry, tool crafting, pottery, music, and poetry. Of all the lands they'd seen, her husband loved this place best. Situated on the between the black lands of the river and the foothills of Amentet, he often spoke of the energy that seemed to seep from the very earth on which the queen now stood. Because of this, her husband often returned to Abydos when he sought peace and rejuvenation. A temple had been constructed in his honor and the citizens were eager to give him prestigious offerings of cattle, fresh fruits and vegetables, and an endless stream of flattery.
The queen and her entourage were met by silent streets that held little signs of life beyond the occasional rat seeking their supper and the agile felines who stalked them through the alleyways. Window lights were all but extinguished and the shadowy market stalls had all been emptied for the night. The pallbearers made no complaints as they struggled to carry the king's body up a steep incline on the outskirts of the village. At the very top of the hill, made visible by a multitude of lamps burning along the outer wall, sat an omnipresent, flat-roofed structure build with mudbrick; plain-looking yet somehow made beautiful by the sheer power radiating from it.
The holy Temple of Anubis.
The Black Guardian of the Necropolis was waiting for them at the gates, half-hidden beneath the shadows of the ancient myrrh trees that grew between towering columns of quartzite. He was tall, with skin darker than the Nubian kings of the south. He wore a headdress of linen and papyrus, and his face remained hidden behind an obsidian mask with a long, carved snout that resembled a giant dog. A menagerie of his own priests stood all around him, each wearing a similar dog-faced mask beneath the droop of their black hoods.
"It is good to see you again, my queen." Anubis greeted her with a gentle bow, a gesture of respect. "I regret that our reunion comes as a result of such misfortune."
"As do I. Please accept my gratitude for the sacrifice you've chosen to make for my husband."
"It is but the least I can do," he replied in earnest, reaching out to place a comforting hand upon the queen's shoulder. "Your husband was not only my king, but he was as a father to me. I will forever be his loyal servant. It is a great honor to step down so that he might ascend. From now unto eternity, I shall serve him faithfully."
"And for that, you have my utmost thanks. What is to be done with his body?"
Anubis raised his voice so his commands would carry into the ears of the priests. "Bring him into the inner sanctum and place him upon the altar I have prepared. Depart then. Do not look back. To look upon our king in his condition is to gaze into the very abyss of death itself. Hear my words and heed my warning."
With silent affirmation, the priests carried the stretcher through the stone archway leading into the courtyard. The queen remained planted beside her friend, watching as the procession carried her husband's body out of view.
"It will work," Anubis reassured her. "You have my word. If you wish to remain close, I will grant you full access to my temple. Feel free to explore the grounds and commune in the gardens. No room shall be denied to you, but I fear that I must take my leave now. There is much work to be done if we hope to be successful in this great work."
"Please, go. Help him." The queen feigned a smile.
With a bow, Anubis hurried off and left her standing alone in the shadow of the fragrant myrrh tree. He'd promised to give her husband a new life – had promised to prepare his body and soul for the next stage – but what horrible transformations would her beloved be forced to endure in the process? What horrors existed between death and resurrection? It was impossible to know for sure. There were things even the gods themselves couldn't see.
She wandered beyond the first pylon, inspecting the various statues carved into the likeness of her husband's illegitimate son. It had been this very child that had led her brother to conspire against the king, trapping him in an ornate sarcophagus before hacking him into pieces to be scattered throughout the upper and lower kingdoms. The queen had spent the last decade in search of these pieces, and now that she'd found them, it was Anubis who had the gift to bring her husband back from the dead. As she strolled along the colonnade, she placed a gentle hand over her belly and prayed a solemn hymn to the unborn child growing inside her womb.
'How will I keep this child hidden from my brother?' she pondered. Her brother was clever and vile and capable of all manner of wickedness and treachery. Where once she'd felt confidence, she now felt a sense of dread. She feared for her son. She feared for the people of Kemet who would suffer greatly under Seth's rule. If there was to be any hope for her or her people, she would have to find a way to establish her son upon the throne.
As she passed beneath a narrow archway, she felt her worry subside as if blown away by the warm air sweeping across the gardens. Giant walls boxed her in on all sides, lined by tall and regal palms. The stars above blinked and shimmered, reflecting off the dark waters of the lotus pool at the center of the garden, surrounded by a fragrant display of chrysanthemum, oleander, mimosa, and night-blooming jasmine. She stared into the pool for a long time, allowing its blackness to expand across her vision until she could see nothing but the void between worlds across which her husband would soon journey.
"Don't stare too long," advised a strong, male voice that startled the queen from her divinatory stupor. "The pool grants visions that drive some men to madness."
"It's a good thing that I'm not a man then," retorted the queen.
She turned, surprised to find a very attractive man standing at the entrance of the garden. He wore no shirt, the lines of his deep, ebony chest and abs were sharply defined, leaving a maze-like trail of raised, light-colored scar tissue across his skin. His face was handsomely smooth, and his hair grew in thick and dark. Around his waist, a schenti weaved of fine thread; around his neck, thick necklaces made of heavy gold. She realized then this was no ordinary mortal. This man exuded a great sense of royalty.
"Yes, I suppose that is a good thing." The man flashed a lascivious grin, drawing closer. "It's such a beautiful night, isn't it? Have you come to gaze up at the stars as well?"
"I'm awaiting my husband," she replied sharply. She was in no mood for his flirtations.
"I can only assume by the widow's robes you wear that it was your husband's body I spied being carried into the temple earlier, in which case, I should think you will be waiting for quite some time." He chuckled at his own cleverness. "Perhaps I might offer you companionship?"
"I prefer to be alone."
The man scoffed. "Alone? I can't imagine a woman as beautiful as you are finds herself alone very often."
"Certainly not when I wish to be."
"They call me Narmer." The man came to stand beside her at the edge of the lotus pool. "I ask, would you find it in your nature to bestow a small favor on a humble man like me?"
"And what favor would you ask of me?"
"In a fortnight, I will lead my men north into war. It is a dangerous road I must travel, one filled with barbarous enemies and unruly kings. It is for this reason that I have come here to pray. And what would the gods grant me but to look upon such a beautiful, radiant creature. I ask of you only but a kiss, that I might carry your blessing with me into battle. Your lips and your beauty will grant me strength to vanquish my foes and bind the Two Lands together. Never have my eyes seen such elegance as that which you command with your very being. Grant me one kiss and I shall ride out and bring the Lower Kingdom to heel under the divine rule of Ennead."
The queen looked him over, considering his merit and his fervor. His eyes were dark, and behind them she could sense a sharp, calculating mind capable of great savagery, but also of great mercy. She gazed into his heart then and sensed his power and his uncorrupted love for the gods – particularly a strong devotion to her husband. This man Narmer would make a great king one day, she decided. So, without a hint of reluctance, she granted him the boon of her lips against his cheek. As she did so, his skin warmed against her mouth. When she stepped away, Narmer placed a hand to the spot.
"Now, sir, I would ask a favor of you in return."
"Whatever you ask shall be yours. What is that you require? Riches? Power?" He lowere1'd his voice as he eyed her up and down. "Love?"
"I would like to accompany you on your northward march." She saw the great reluctance fill his face and, knowing the minds of men, was quick to placate his ego. "It is imperative that I reach the village of Sais. I require a strong man who can protect me on such a long journey. You do not appear to be the type of man who would allow a woman to face such a dangerous road alone."
Narmer eyed her studiously. "And you do not appear to be the type of woman who fears danger. On the road or otherwise."
The queen's hand fell pointedly against her belly. "It is not danger to my own person that I fear."
The mortal king took her meaning at once. His face softened. "You're with child? I must warn you that war is no place for women or children. It is a violent, horrible world filled with the screams of the dying and the wails of the mourning."
"Do you think I do not know the depths of evil in man's heart? Do you think I have not resided in the deepest caves of mourning and loss?" She pulled back her hood to reveal her true visage to the man-king.
Upon seeing her face with such clarity, Narmer fell to his knees and subjugated himself before her, kissing her dirty feet. "My goddess, my glory. Forgive me for I did not recognize you. Forgive my wretched introductions and forgive any offense I may have caused you."
She placed a maternal hand upon the crown of his head. "Rise, my king. Do as I ask and deliver me safely unto Sais and I shall grant you victory in every battle. You shall be granted the wisdom and strength needed to slay all who might dare to revolt against you. Under your divine rule, the Two Lands shall unite as one and grow to become a mighty kingdom that shall last for millennia, over which your descendants shall rule, forever blessed by the essence and power of my son Horus, your one true king."
With her blessing, Narmer rose, his head humbly bowed so as not to look upon his queen directly.
"From this day forth, you shall become the torchbearer of a dynastic legacy that shall be remembered for eons." She smiled and bestowed a second kiss upon his other cheek before sending him away. "Now, leave me, my king, for I require solitude so that I might navigate the chaos of my own mind."
"As you wish." He took her hand into his own and raised it to his lips. "Thank you, my beautiful goddess. I shall praise your name tonight and for all the nights to come."
Once the man departed, the queen spent some time alone in the gardens, whispering secret words to her unborn child before moving into the temple to take a seat upon a sandstone bench just outside the sanctuary. The hours crept by slowly. Whenever someone emerged from beyond the heavy doors, her heart would skip a beat, expecting to see a familiar face approaching with news. But the priests paid her no mind as they passed by, going about their business. Though it was well within her right to inquire, she didn't dare hinder the work of Anubis or his loyal followers. These were mortals who had been gifted with divine intelligence, and their necromantic sciences were highly revered throughout both kingdoms. They understood the mysteries of the human vessel, and they understood the power of herbs and oils to preserve both the ba and the ka that they might be reunited again in the afterlife.
As the dark shroud of Nut began to pale on the horizon, a tall man emerged from behind the heavy sanctuary doors. His long robes trailed behind him as he closed in on the queen. When she saw the stacks of papyri in his arms, she realized this was not Anubis come to summon her. In the orange light of the torches, she recognized the furrowed brow of a man in deep thought.
"Thoth," she hailed him, rising to her feet. "How fares my husband?"
"The work has been completed. As we speak, he awaits his envoy to escort him to the mountain of Amentet. There he shall be crowned and anointed as king of the dead."
"May I see him?" She started toward the door, but Thoth extended a hand to stop her.
"I am afraid that won't be possible. Though your husband lives once more, he no longer belongs to this world. For you to look upon him would be your undoing. And we can't have that, can we?" Thoth glanced down at the queen's stomach. "Not with the precious cargo you now carry in your belly."
"I must see him." The queen was determined as she tried to circumvent the tall man before her, eager to push her way into the sanctuary where she knew her husband was waiting. "I have to tell him about our son."
Thoth reached out a firm hand and placed it against her shoulder. "And what exactly will you say to him about your daughter?"
The queen stopped dead in her tracks. "Daughter?"
"Do you mean to tell me that for all a mother's intuition, you did not realize that it is not just a son that you carry within you, but a daughter as well."
"Twins?"
"Yes, dear Isis. You will be the proud mother of both a baby boy and a baby girl."
Speechlessness befell the queen. This was the opportunity she'd been praying for. The son she would raise at her side, trained in the art of war and rulership, but the girl... the sister could be hidden away and raised in secret, trained in the art of heka and used as a failsafe should Horus ever fail against his malevolent uncle. It seemed her dearly departed husband had been virile enough to provide her with just the weapon she needed in her war against Seth.
"I must speak with Osiris immediately."
The queen shoved past the robed man and pulled open one of the heavy doors leading to the sanctuary. But when she looked inside, her heart fell into her stomach, and she collapsed to her knees in despair in the empty room. The table where her husband's body had once laid had been cleaned and cleared. Anubis and his necromantic priests were nowhere to be seen.
"Where did they take him?" she demanded through clenched teeth. "Tell me where they took my husband?"
Thoth looked down at her, his face filled with empathy and regret. "They have gone to the mountain of Amentet. Even now, as Amun ascends into the sky, your husband descends below."
"You bastard," she shrieked. "Bring him back! You promised you'd bring him back to me."
"I understand your grief, my queen, but to bring him back as you knew him is simply not possible. Though his essence has been restored, his body can never be returned to you. Your husband now presides over the underworld where the dead have no business amongst the living."
His words felt like a crushing weight upon her shoulders, forcing her down onto her face before the great teacher, sobbing and pleading for reprieve from the knot growing tighter and tighter at the center of her chest. She yanked at her hair as the tears flowed from her eyes without any hint of stopping. There on the floor of Anubis' temple, at the lowest point of her despair, there was only one thing she knew with absolute certainty: her brother would be held accountable, and he would pay dearly for his crimes. She would make sure of that.