Chapter 26
Sita
After so many hours on horseback, traveling past nothing but rocks and sand, Thonis and the Iteru were a welcome sight.
Not wishing to be discovered, Sita and Dumiya skirted the city, only approaching when they reached its northern edge, near the Temple of Amun.
Once there, they directed the horses to the riverbank, where the animals drank their fill.
Sita patted her mount appreciatively. It had been a long, arduous journey, and they’d pushed the horses hard.
“Good boy,” she whispered to the stallion, then left him to graze.
She turned to Dumiya, who stood overlooking the city with her spear at her side.
The silver-haired warrior appeared undaunted by the trek—on the contrary, she seemed energized by it.
Sita moved to take in Dumiya’s view and spied some kind of activity going on at the temple.
There was a large crowd assembling, many of them carrying baskets of grain, grapes, and other provisions.
“They’re probably celebrating the Festival of Renenutet,” Sita guessed. “It’s a bit late, but with my father’s passing and the coronation, it was likely delayed.”
Dumiya gave her a questioning look.
“Oh—right, sorry,” she said, remembering that Dumiya was a Hudjefa tribeswoman and had no knowledge of Khetaran festivals.
“Renenutet is the cobra-headed goddess of the harvest. She’s also the pharaoh’s divine nurse, who cares for him from birth until death.
Every year during the harvest, people bring offerings of food to honor her.
” In an attempt to communicate more clearly, Sita used hand gestures to illustrate what she was saying.
Dumiya nodded with polite interest, though Sita sensed that the older woman’s opinion of those who worshipped gods with snake heads was low at best. Then Dumiya made two quick motions with both hands, first a pinching gesture, then an opening movement with palms up.
Dumiya accompanied this with another questioning expression.
It took Sita a moment, but then she understood.
What do we do now?
Sita replied, continuing to use hand gestures as she spoke, “I can’t thank you enough for your help getting me here, but we must part ways.
I don’t know how the palace guard would react to seeing a Red Land tribeswoman on their doorstep, and I will not put you in any more danger than I already have.
I will leave the horses with you and continue on foot.
My advice is that you patrol the outskirts of the city and watch for Karim. ”
The mention of his name brought fresh yearning to Sita’s heart. “I don’t know when he might arrive, as he will secure your tribe’s safety first, but once he does, he’ll be able to tell you where to go to rejoin them.”
Dumiya dipped her head in understanding, then tilted it toward the growing crowd at the temple, her eyebrow raised. What about them? The warrior clearly thought it would be difficult for Sita to make a stealthy approach with so many people about.
“Oh, that’s no problem,” Sita explained. “In fact, it’s perfect. I want to make a grand entrance. The more people who see me, the better.”
Dumiya gave her a small, roguish smile. Then she lay a sinewy, freckled hand on Sita’s shoulder, squeezed it, and turned to leap astride her horse. Grabbing the reins of Sita’s black mount, Dumiya led both horses back south and away.
Alone on the riverbank, Sita removed the serpent staff from its harness and held it before her.
It was large and would attract quite a bit of attention, and although she intended for her return to be noticed, she didn’t want Meryamun—or anyone else—to see the staff and guess at her newfound powers.
Then again, leaving it behind was out of the question.
“What to do, what to do…” she muttered, tapping her lip. “If only it were smaller, I could hide it away and always have it at hand.”
As if the staff heard her plea, it began to glow.
Eyes wide, Sita watched as the wooden staff shrank in her hand until the two metal serpents contracted to the size of worms, one red and one black.
She shrieked as the little serpents slithered up her arm, her neck, and onto her left ear, curling around it like a fanciful piece of jewelry.
There, the serpents settled and froze in position, their heads bent over the shell of her ear as if they might whisper into it.
Once the shock wore off, Sita touched the serpents gingerly. They were cool like metal. If she combed her hair over top of them, they would be completely hidden. “Yes,” she said with a satisfied smile, “that will work just fine.”
***
“And through your bounty, O Renenutet, the kingdom will flourish. Through your mother’s milk, we, the children of Khetara, will grow strong.”
Meryamun’s prayer floated over the gathered citizens, the words recited in a monotone as if by rote. To Sita, standing at the back of the crowd, it sounded as if he wanted to get the ceremony over with, that he had something more pressing on his mind.
He’s about to get a lot more to think about.
Sita wore the same plain black robes that she’d stolen from the palace storeroom the night she fled, and she had pulled the wide hood over her head, shielding her face from view.
Gathering her resolve, she stepped into the empty aisle leading up to the dais where her brother stood in a blaze of sunshine at the temple gate.
She approached slowly and steadily, past the ram-headed sphinx that flanked her on either side.
She knew that the statues were meant to represent Amun—not Khnum—yet Sita couldn’t help but feel the oracle’s divine lamb was watching her through their eyes.
People began to murmur as she passed them.
“Who’s the woman in black?”
“What is she doing?”
“She’s going toward the king!”
By the time she reached the front of the crowd, Sita had stirred such a hubbub that the guards took notice. She scanned the guards’ faces and saw with dread that Femi wasn’t among them. Just because he’s not here, doesn’t mean he’s…
She didn’t allow herself to finish the thought.
Mery lowered the basket of bread and grapes he’d been holding aloft and searched the area for the interruption, annoyed. He was dressed in a rich scarlet schenti and a bejeweled cobra-themed collar, with the double crown on his brow.
When she saw her brother, Sita had an irrational urge to rush to him and fall into his arms. Maybe it was the familiarity of someone she used to love—
My twin. My mirror.
She smothered the feeling as soon as it came, like snuffing out an errant spark before it caught fire.
Remember what he did, what he wants to do, Sita told herself. Don’t let yourself fall under his spell.
“Guards! Stop that woman!” Mery commanded. “Who dares interrupt a sacred ritual?”
Four guards charged toward her. The crowd fell silent, cowed by the king’s wrath.
Sita stood between the first two sphinx, threw back her hood, and said: “I do.”
There was an audible gasp from the crowd, and the guards all stopped in their tracks the moment they saw her face. Sita watched as Meryamun’s face flit through a series of emotions in quick succession—shock, relief, fury—before compelling itself into a guise of rapture.
“People of Thonis!” he announced, again raising his arms to the heavens. “Today is a truly blessed day! Our beloved Princess Sitamun has returned! Thanks be to Amun for keeping her safe from harm and delivering her home! Thanks be to Renenutet for rewarding us with the greatest bounty of all!”
Having been given permission to respond, the crowd roared.
Mery set down the basket and strode forward to pull Sita into his arms, drawing her into a bittersweet, cassia-scented embrace.
“Where have you been?” he whispered harshly in her ear. “I’ve scoured the entire kingdom for weeks, making excuses for why you vanished, and now you reappear in the middle of a festival to embarrass me in front of my people?”
Mery pulled back to study her face. Then he smiled, that same blazing, heart-stopping smile.
When he spoke again, his voice was warm honey—sweet and intoxicating.
“Oh, I see. You didn’t do this to embarrass me.
You were afraid that if your return wasn’t witnessed publicly that I might… what? Kill you?”
Sita kept her face passive. “Let’s just say I see the board now.”
Mery chuckled. “Do you? Do you really think so?”
“We must talk, Mery. It’s urgent.”
His dazzling smile dimmed. “Oh, we’ll talk. We have much to discuss. There is greatness on the horizon for us, dear sister. Come to my chambers tonight after you’ve gotten yourself cleaned up and dressed in something decent. You smell like horse.”
Sita wanted to stop him from walking away, to command him to listen to all she’d planned to say, everything she’d rehearsed in her mind during those long, silent hours riding through the desert.
Instead, she watched him pick up his basket of fruit and resume his prayer as the guards led her onto the Royal Road to the palace.
After all that had happened, after all that she’d done to take control of her life, the familiar sense of powerlessness came over her again.
She felt the old terror rising within her.
The impulse to make it better, to make him happy.
No! she told herself. That’s not who I am anymore. I will make him listen, no matter what it takes.
Her traitorous heart, however, made no promises.
***
As Sita had hoped, news of her reappearance traveled fast. When she arrived at the palace, an attendant was already waiting for her.
“Nebet!” Sita exclaimed, wrapping her arms around her beloved nurse.
“Oh, thank you, thank you,” Nebet cried, kissing her on each cheek and on the backs of her hands, as if making up for lost time. “I prayed to Isis to bring you back to me, to bring you home, and she did. She did!”
She examined Sita all over. “Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Hungry?”
“Actually, yes. Famished.”