Three
CONFUSION, disorientation, bewilderment; these words couldn't adequately describe the feelings that overcame me when I gazed at my surroundings. Heat stroke was plausible, but I lifted my trembling hand to brush the sweat from my hairline only to find it was dry. Of course it would be dry; I had been inside the museum moments ago, with the comforts of air conditioning. So what could be the cause of my sudden delirium, forcing my eyes to deceive me?
They tantalized me, for what lay beyond the shifting sands couldn't possibly be real. I squeezed my eyes closed, my heart holding dear to everything important to me. Aunt Clair was among my visions; Father too, even though he had long since passed. Then I saw the museum, a cluttered room on the third floor which Clair called her office; her dusty shelves bulged at the sides from the weight of Father's manuscripts and journals, as well as her own. Snuggled tightly upon those wooden planks was also their research, everything we knew of Ahmose's predecessors and the eighteenth dynasty of Egypt. Considered the Golden Age of Egypt, it was the most glorious empire in the world, built upon the backs of the ancient people who dwelled here; their hands raised the granite metropolis from the dirt of the wilderness.
But the desert taunted me, its heat foreign to my nomadic body. It manipulated me, a visitor...an outsider, reminding me I did not belong here. I could hardly breathe; something was happening to me that I did not understand. My cheeks felt puffy and hot, my heart aflutter. I licked my dry lips, my weightless tongue suddenly thirsting for water.
I shifted my gaze from the glaring sun to the white washed buildings that dotted the streets and alleyways. A nearby temple stood isolated from the town. The paintings resembled the art style of the New Kingdom era. I observed it thoroughly, and scientifically, and realized it was the temple of Luxor. I hardly recognized it because much of it wasn't there. It hadn't yet been constructed in whatever time period this dream was taking place. Dream! Was I dreaming?
The miniature scaled temple paled in comparison to the enormity it was in the twenty-first century. I wondered what other surprises lay beyond the walls of the marble capital that surrounded the city in a protective grip. I was in Egypt once again, only this time I was brought to an ancient city. Thebes.
The golden expanse of the Sahara crested the horizon with its sun-bleached waves. The sky overhead was bluer than lapis. It almost looked like a movie set, but what happened to the magical light that had engulfed me when I touched Ahmose's tablet? And where was the museum? I had experienced vivid dreams before, but this didn't feel like the dreams I had shared with him, whoever he was. I glanced around expecting to see him, but he was nowhere in sight.
I could feel the hot sand beneath my sneakers, crunching as I walked upon it. The wind stung my cheeks and lips when it drifted by. The wisp of cloud that passed before the sun cast a shadow over the desert that felt suddenly cooler. The ache in my throat could only be extinguished by water, and the emptiness of my stomach craved food. How could I experience such powerful sensations if I was not lucid? If this was a dream, he would have come to me by now.
But the world before me was not as I had known it to be moments ago. The museum was gone and the bustling city of Cairo had vanished. The only reminiscence of familiarity in sight was the Nile River that now snaked around an ancient metropolis.
I stepped onto the pebbled road, and the city suddenly burst to life. The streets were overcrowded with people that huddled around merchant stands to buy grain, bread, fruit, and figs. The harvest must have been plentiful this year; no one seemed hungry. Women sang in the streets, and children stood atop the marble buildings casting flower petals down on them.
Beyond the bustle of the city was a larger complex with archways and piercing columns. Banners poised on top flapped in the desert wind, the scarlet fabric was hemmed with golden falcons. Ra. The columns and walls glistened like polished limestone in the sunlight. It was glorious, spectacular, and far superior to the city itself. Only a palace would be built with such elegance and adoration.
What if this was all just a dream? If I went forward into the city to the palace, would I encounter Pharaoh? And where was the mysterious man who never failed to come to me?
I looked around at the people that passed me in the streets. Most were in a mood of celebration, but others glared at me like I was an ancient plague. As a foreigner, I wasn't welcomed into their city. Their mistrusting eyes made that quite clear. I averted their gazes and wandered around the crowd. The leaves of a nearby palm tree made a nice shade to rest under while I considered what to do.
I felt like a phantom, standing amidst people who had been dead for millennia. I glanced down at my legs to find my snug jeans, unchanged and the same as this morning. The curious glances from the people embarrassed me; I was an atrocity for them, as they were bronzed skinned, dark haired, and clad in thin tunics.
A woman passed by, grasping her child's hand. These were barbaric times, though Egypt's law codes were more generous to women than other ancient empires, it was still dangerous here. Of everyone around me, they seemed least threatening. I started to ask for help, but wondered if they would understand English or if I could speak Egyptian.
My clothes were tight fitting, my jeans snug and my blouse buttoned low in a fashionable way, attracting the attention of passersby that gawked at me. Then I was approached by a couple of men. One reached out to stroke my hair while the other circled around me to marvel my curves. He actually had the audacity to grasp my backside. They both grinned at me hungrily, entranced by my exotic nature. I swatted them away, but they wouldn't leave me alone. Frightened, I headed through the crowd, hoping to lose them.
But they pursued me. They seemed amused by my attempts to evade them. They skulked after me slowly at first, but quickened pace as I bolted down the street. The people looked on as if nothing was happening. Fear suddenly gripped me. Women had few rights during these times and were seen as inferior to men, and foreigners had no rights. Either way, my situation was grim. I had to get away somehow, to protect myself in a legal way, but when I glanced back into their wild eyes, I knew I might have to fight them. Why was the man who always came to me in my dreams absent when I desperately needed him now? He had to be in the city somewhere, looking for me. If I kept running...I would find him somehow... If we could find each other, he would protect me.
A red banner flapped in the wind, and out of my blind frenzy, I remembered the palace. If I went there and sought out the pharaoh, maybe he would help me. Maybe he would be there. Maybe they would provide me with protection. I had to hurry and reach them before my pursuers caught up with me.
I bumped past people that were in my way. They grumbled and some even shouted at me, ignoring the two men who were chasing me. The buildings were a white blur as I passed by them, under shadows that blotted the streets.
Children, impoverished and malnourished, were clothed in tattered rags and begged for coins on each side of the street. Their innocent faces were scarred by hard times and sadness. My beautiful dream was suddenly becoming a nightmare!
A hoard of cries came from the direction I was headed, the direction of Pharaoh's palace. Now people stopped to see what was happening. My two pursuers seemed to be distracted as well. I took the opportunity to slip out of sight.
I darted around the people in front of me and looked behind me to see if I was still being followed. I separated from the crowd, and their eyes remained forward. Time seemed to slow; my heart thudded in a sluggish cadence as everything seemed to stop. The celebration came to an abrupt end and the eyes of the crowd grew wide with terror. Each face was mingled with curious dread. I took a step back, and another, until I was several feet away from them.
I no longer saw the two men, nor the children on the sides of the street. I just saw a mob of Egyptian people, peasants and working classmen, staring straight forward. Were they watching me? This dream had taken such a bizarre turn, I was afraid of what might happen next.
I took another step back, but couldn't progress backwards anymore. I must have bumped into something. It had been subtle, merely a brush against my back. It wasn't a wall; no, it was too tender and warm like flesh.
I followed the gazes of the crowd and turned to face the back of a soldier. It was broad and strong, one of a true warrior. From his demeanor, I could tell he was a man that commanded a lot of respect, one of great power and favor. He hadn't noticed me. His back, still turned to me, was chiseled and strong. He was like gazing at a statue.
But past his shoulder, my belly lunged at what lay before him. A defenseless old man lay in the dirt, helpless and cowering in his shadow. He tried to scramble away, a large vase tucked tightly in his arms, but the soldier swept his leg out from under him, and he tumbled over the vase.
It fell from his hands and shattered all over the ground, spilling pure white milk everywhere. He now lay in a muddy pool. The soldier, dressed in golden armor and a blue helmet, slammed the hilt of his sword into the back of his head as he tried to get up. He stumbled and fell forward onto the glass. His head drooped dizzily; his eyes glazed over as if death were upon him like a leech, and when he tried to rise up again, dark blood seeped from his wounds. The horde of field-ranking soldiers surrounding the spectacle hooted and laughed.
My stomach cringed at the brutality, the ruthlessness. The soldier raised his sword and prepared to slay the old peasant man, who could do nothing but stare up in horror.
"What's happening?" I screamed, and ran for the soldier, grabbing his arm and holding onto it as tightly as I could. "Please don't hurt him!"
With a wave of his arm, the soldier threw me back into the group of men who clasped my arms as they caught hold of me. I tried to pull away, but they held onto me, hooting as they grabbed at me. One reached for my blouse, and so I slammed my fist into the side of his face. He was so startled by my attack he dropped his sword and staggered away.
I tried to grab the hilt when it landed in the dirt, but another soldier kicked it away. He came at me, but I grabbed a rock lying in the sand and threw it at him. He tripped over his own feet trying to dodge the stone, which nearly grazed the head of another soldier, and fell backwards into the crowd of men.
The main soldier had composed himself. No longer concerned with the old peasant man, he tossed a handful of sand into my eyes when I turned around, halting my attempt to flee.
Blind, I could do nothing but try and shake it out. A strong hand came to clasp my throat, followed by an arrogant chuckle that taunted my pride. The nerve he had to put his hands on me infuriated me. I slapped at him, clawed at his eyes, his throat, any vulnerability, but he was holding me at arm's length. I could only graze his upper arm before panic set in.
Paralyzed, I stood there anticipating to be thrown back into the crowd. My heart pounded, but I could have sworn it stopped when his voice broke through the roar of the crowd as he called an order, silencing everyone into a frightened standstill.
I viciously rubbed my eyes, my vision blurred by tears. Silence swept over the city, and though I could not see the gathering, I sensed their probing eyes-all of them-as they peered at us in stupefaction. I opened my eyes, desperate to know what was happening, but they stung badly from the grains of sand.
The blurry form of my captor loomed over me. I tried to pull away from him. He held onto me with little effort, but when I began to resist, his hold strengthened. I tried slapping at him again, which elicited another soft laugh from him. He was amused by my futile attempts to fight back.
The crowd began to murmur among itself, the voices around us appalled, and maybe even offended. Could they not believe a woman would fight back? Vain as my attempts may have been, I wasn't about to surrender to a group of loathsome savages. But my hope for escaping diminished with each second that passed, burning away like the grains in my eyes. The strength he wielded in only one arm was astounding. I couldn't shake free from his grasp. I would have no chance of defeating him if he suddenly tossed me down.
He appeared smeary through my hot tears, but when my vision cleared, I finally looked into his face. Dirt was smudged on his cheeks; the ebony kohl liner around his eyes was smeared and messy. He was worn from the long hot day. He murmured something under his breath.
"I can't believe it," I whispered. My fear subsided almost immediately, quickly vanquished by an overwhelming relief. Though I did not recognize his face, I knew his voice. It was the voice that spoke to me so often through my dreams, the one I had fallen in love with. "It's you."
The soldiers around us whispered angrily; watched us with hateful eyes.
My captor examined me; his eyes flickered over my face curiously. I took the silence of our momentary truce to study him as well. Finally, he had revealed his face to me. But why had he done so in this manner? The dirt on his cheeks was more than unflattering. He retained a regal air, though he was not wrapped in rich fabrics this time. Instead, he was draped in military garments.
He had the sculpted face of a noble, high cheekbones with a strong jaw-line, and eyes the color of sweet nectar. He was the most handsome man I had ever laid eyes on. If his current appearance was enough to drain the air from my lungs, I could only imagine how beautiful he truly was underneath the grime.
A guard scoffed, and I remembered the rest of the crowd around us. The old peasant man continued to cower in the mud. His eyes were pleading, sympathizing for me now that I was in the hands of his captor.
"Why?" I asked the captor. "Why have you brought me here? Did you intend to frighten me tonight? These men have terrorized me." Was he angry with me over our last encounter, when I attempted to defy the dream to look at his face? His lips receded into a thin line as he examined me, and his grasp on my neck relaxed. I slipped out of his hand and grew closer to him. "I was afraid, and so I came to look for you. My appearance has caused quite a commotion. I am sorry we had to reunite this way."
His expression twisted into a confused scowl as he scrutinized me. He murmured something to one of the men next to him.
"Can you take me elsewhere, please? I don't want to be here anymore. I am afraid." I expected him to wrap his arms around me as he always did in the other dreams whenever I was disheartened, but he remained stoic, as if my pleas meant nothing to him. He continued to watch me, as if he was trying to place me from a previous encounter.
He did not know me.
But we had never seen each other before now, not really. It made sense he would not recognize me. If I laid my head against his chest like so many times before, maybe he would remember me.
The guard I had struck before unsheathed his sword and after propagation from the crowd, stepped towards me. I ran to my captor and buried my face against his chest. "Please, make them stop!" I cried.
But the man next to him suddenly lunged at me and caught my arms behind my back, pulling me away from him. He shouted a warning at me, and though I couldn't understand his words, his tone explained more than enough. My captor was not to be touched by anyone, not even by me. He spoke again and I thought I heard pharos, the Egyptian word for pharaoh. Was I going to be arrested and brought before Pharaoh as a criminal? Frightened, I shot a panicked glance at my captor.
I tried recalling when I had lain down and fallen asleep. Why was my beautiful dream suddenly becoming a nightmare?
Tears were in my eyes now. "Please, if you do not want to see me tonight, just let me go. I promise I will leave," I cried. It was such a horrible feeling that suddenly overcame me, a sense of dread at being abandoned by a man I so desperately cared for. Even if he wasn't real, the look of disapproval that suddenly darkened his features was enough to send me running into the desert. I wanted to wake up now.
Sunlight glistened off the cerulean craft that sat upon his brow. It was inlaid with gold, threading around the edges to the golden asps that held dominion over the front, like watchful protectors. More attentively I gazed at it, recognizing the shape and intricate details of the uraeus from Egyptian artwork, a pair of cobras twined together with inlaid rubies for angry eyes: the fiery eyes of Ra. My knees fell weak underneath me, like putty. The craft, to my dismay, wasn't a helmet at all; it was a crown.
The spectacular blue crown that was nestled on his head was a war crown. The celebration made sense now; he must have just returned from a battle, protecting Egypt's borders in armor fashioned from gold. He shined brightly and intensely, commanded all that revolved around him, as if he were the sun itself.
Now I understood why he seethed with such arrogant pride. I had made a mistake. This wasn't the man from my dreams at all. The man from my dreams knew I loved Egypt so much, and always brought me here. But why would he bring me here and abandon me, leaving me at the mercy of brutes, cowering in the shadow of Pharaoh, King of Egypt?
His honey eyes suddenly fell angry, and bore into mine like burning stars. His mouth twisted into an arrogant smirk. The stench of alcohol wafted around him like a thick veil. I tried to pull away from his guard, who held onto me with little effort, but his grasp was as strong as iron.
He slurred something to the soldiers standing nearby, and they came up behind me and caught my arms, dragging me along behind his golden chariot with the prisoners of war that were bound in chains. I was trapped.