Chapter 4 The Wandering King
The Wandering King
Namir stuck close to Zahra’s back as she led him down the street. He kept his hood up, looking around as if the medjay would show up at any moment. Farmers and other local sellers saw her from their stalls, but they did not give her or the mysterious man following her another glance.
A familiar voice came from one of the stalls as they turned a corner. “Zahra.”
She paused, smiling at Riyad and his fruit stall. So this was where he had gone. She walked up to him. “Riyad, how are you?”
“Splendid,” the old Auran man answered with a smile. His eyes wrinkled as he peeked past her. “Who is your friend?”
Zahra glanced behind her at Namir. He stared at her in confused panic, his eyes urging her to hurry. She turned back to Riyad. “A servant from Bahiti’s residence.”
Namir scoffed.
She ignored him. “I did not see you in your usual spot this morning.”
“My daughter was unable to claim a spot early this morning,” Riyad replied sadly. “She has been preparing all day for the Pa-sekhemty Feast. She has saved all she has to pay for passage there.”
“May Re be with her on her journey,” Zahra said. “She is beautiful. I am sure the King will only have eyes for her.”
Riyad chuckled. “I hope so. Give my good wishes to Bahiti’s daughters, too, yes?”
She nodded. “Of course.”
Namir cleared his throat beside Zahra. He lifted his eyebrows, motioning with his head down the street.
Zahra’s mouth twitched, and she inclined her head toward Riyad. “We must be going, but it was a delight to see you, Riyad. Re bless you.”
Riyad nodded. “Re bless you as well, Zahra.”
She stepped away, motioning for Namir to follow her further down the street. Once they were out of earshot, she turned to him with a glare. “Why did you rush me? I had it under control.”
“I do not understand why you stopped at all.” He glanced back, pulling his hood further down in front of his eyes. “The medjay could have seen us.”
“It would have looked strange if I hadn’t stopped,” Zahra defended. “This is my city, Namir. If I act suspiciously, as you have, I will surely be reported, and you will be found. Is that what you want?”
Namir grumbled something unintelligible.
Zahra sighed and walked faster, leading him away from the marketplace. For a man who had deceived Bahiti and her daughters into thinking he was a commander, he had an awful lot to complain about. “Be patient. We will be there soon.”
Zahra led Namir down narrow streets, passing by smaller homes belonging to farmers and sailors. Behind a row of houses stood a small, weed-covered well. The area was overgrown, with only a nearby ash tree providing shade.
Namir leaned against the tree, his nose turned up. “Are you sure no one will come looking for me here?”
“The well dried up a couple of years ago.” She crossed her arms. “If anyone does come, they will be looking for a quiet patch of sunshine, not a fake commander.”
“I am not sure anyone would want to come here.” He pulled a plum out from his cloak and took a bite.
Zahra’s forehead wrinkled. “When did you—? Did you steal that from Riyad?”
“I stole it from whichever noble owns the farmland,” Namir corrected.
“He won’t notice anything is gone until tonight when he counts his produce.
” He took another bite of the fruit. Plum juice squirted down his chin, and he wiped it away as he spoke.
“Besides, he won’t have lost anything tomorrow. The day starts over, remember?”
Zahra scrunched her nose in disgust. “I still don’t understand why it does.” She reminded herself why she was there and stepped toward him with caution. “You promised me answers.”
Namir relaxed at the base of the ash tree, letting his hood fall back and propping his feet up on a rock. “I cannot tell you everything, not without knowing what you know first.”
She fought the urge to roll her eyes. “I don’t know anything.”
“You know the day repeats, at least,” Namir said. “How many versions of today have you lived? Do you only remember yesterday?”
Zahra froze. “What do you mean versions? How long has this been going on?” And how had she not realized it sooner?
“Longer than you know, it seems.” He took another bite of his plum, speaking with his mouth full. “You remember seeing me in the gardens, though, do you not?”
Frustration bubbled in her stomach. “We already established that.”
Namir shook his head. “I meant the night before last. We crossed paths then.”
Zahra reflected on her foggy memories. Though the nights overlapped in her mind, she could place his face in every one of them.
“You were at the pr-aa.” She recalled the medjay at her back and the Auran maidens that jumped out of her way as they chased her down.
She had tripped and fallen into someone—a man with the same startling black eyes that sat before her now.
A sharp pain hit her head, and she clutched her shawl in her fist as the memories struggled to remain clear.
“I saw you outside of the temple as well. You were speaking to someone.” He stood at a distance in her memory, his form bright in the moonlight, and the personage beside him cloaked in shadow.
Namir looked down as he muttered to himself. “That was a while ago. But then—”
“I want an explanation.” Zahra shook off the feeling in her chest and clenched her fists by her side. “I told you what I know. Now you must do the same.”
He got to his feet, tossing the remainder of the fruit over his shoulder. “All you need to know is that I am trying to stop this day from repeating. To do that, I need to check your chest.”
Zahra’s hands flung to her bosom, her eyes wide. “How dare you!”
Namir winced. “I did not mean—”
Zahra gritted her teeth. “You are a liar, a thief, and a—”
“I must check for a mark,” Namir exclaimed, holding his hands up in defense. He lowered one hand, touching the area right below his collarbone. “Here.”
Zahra stared for a moment before pulling at her shawl to check the area on her skin. “There’s nothing there.”
“You cannot see it,” he reasoned, “but I can. If you let me touch you—”
Zahra dropped her arms. “I refuse! I have no reason to trust you.”
He stepped forward. “It will be quick, I promise.”
She moved away, her feet pointed toward the path away from the well. “No! Don’t forget that I helped you. For all I know, you are a wicked sorcerer with a grudge against the King.”
Namir clenched his jaw. “I assure you, I am not.” He dropped his hand. “Fine, then. What must I do to gain this favor from you?”
Zahra raised her eyebrows in surprise. She did not think that would work. She straightened, holding her head high. “Tell me why I remember and why no one else does.”
Namir sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “There is nothing else I can give you?”
Zahra narrowed her eyes. “No.”
He turned away, his face in a state of agony as he debated with himself. After a few moments, he let out a small curse and turned to her. “You must tell no one. This is the Pharaohs’ most-kept secret, and you would be killed if you were to share it.”
“Fine.” Zahra crossed her arms. “Tell me, then.”
Namir sat against the tree, content to let Zahra stand. “Do you know how Aur was founded?”
“Of course.” She had lived in Aur for ten years, after all. “Re gave the future king and queen the Iteru river, and they became pharaohs over the land. What does that have to do with—?”
“He gave them more than the river,” Namir explained, moving his hands as he spoke. “The first pharaohs worried that future generations would marry evil influences and corrupt the land, so they asked Re for another gift—something that would ensure they picked a worthy spouse to rule beside them.”
“I don’t understand.” Zahra frowned. “Are there not enough marriageable choices in Aur?”
Namir nodded. “That was the problem. There were too many. While a king or queen can rule alone, he or she cannot be pharaoh—or ruler of all Aur—until there is a queen or king to rule alongside him or her. A pharaoh cannot rule without another pharaoh. Hence the meaning of the Feast’s name.”
“Two crowns,” Zahra whispered. Her father had explained all of this when she arrived in Aur from Ionia as a child.
The pharaoh is the king and queen, not only one of them.
It was why Aur had mourned the Pharaoh King a year ago when the Pharaoh Queen was still alive and ruling.
She would continue to have the final say in all matters—and the only say in religious matters—until her son found a bride and became the next pharaoh king.
“When a king or queen is crowned, he or she must marry before becoming pharaoh and receiving Re’s full protection,” Namir explained. “That is the rule. With so many choices, it would be easy for the king or queen to choose incorrectly, thus dooming Aur to a corrupt ruler endowed with Re’s power.”
Zahra nodded in understanding. “So, what did Re give the pharaohs?”
Namir shut his mouth, studying her with a hesitant expression.
Zahra raised her eyebrows. “I will not tell anyone.”
“You will not forget this conversation, either,” he stated. “This information has never been shared with anyone outside of Aur.”
Zahra understood his meaning. It had never been shared with a foreigner. She brushed the offense aside. “You have no other choice.”
Namir let out a heavy sigh, rubbing the area above his nose.
“Yes, you are right.” He dropped his hand and found a stick on the ground.
While he spoke, he drew with the stick, creating an image in the sand.
“It is called the Thoth. It is a magical artifact only used on the day of the Pa-sekhemty Feast. When the night is at its fullest, the Thoth renews the day, and the morning of the Pa-sekhemty Feast comes once more.”
Zahra's lips parted as he completed his picture. Though the drawing was crude, she recognized the image—the Thoth was a sandglass.
Panic swelled in her chest, but she fought it from reaching her face. It was a coincidence.