The Concubine’s Tale Read online

  Horeb clapped his shoulder. “Now would be a good time to change your names and think about who you have been and who you will become. If someone does arrive, they will meet a pair of young lovers hiding in the hills to escape the disapproval of their families.” Horeb raised his eyebrows and glanced at Nayari, now sleeping peacefully in the rock alcove. “The farther you go, the less likely anyone will recognize you.”

  Khanu nodded. Horeb had always been the clever one, the cautious boy who managed to break the rules without ever once getting caught.

  “Take care of her, Khanu, and be well, my friend. I will come back in a few days with some supplies for you.”

  “Thank you, Horeb. You have done more than any friend should ask of you.”

  Horeb only smiled. He left the cave, and Khanu stared after him for a long while, then moved to stand near Nayari. She slept deeply, her dark head resting on her crossed arms. He let his gaze wander the luxurious curve of her hip and down her thigh. He felt a stirring, but he would not wake her-yet.

  He settled next to her and curled himself around her. Had he realized he would fall asleep almost instantly, he might not have closed his eyes just for a moment to rest them. With her clutched against his chest, her rhythmic breathing matching his own, he began to dream.

  Chapter Six

  The Chief of Heaven danced in a circle around Nayari, his long, swollen member protruding from his hand, straight as an arrow. She stood silently, naked before him, her eyes closed in ecstasy. Khanu waited outside the circle in which Min danced, watching the god weave closer and closer to Nayari. He wanted to step in, to claim her for his own, but how could he challenge a god?

  A hand fell on Khanu’s shoulder, startling him. His heart raced when he turned and looked into the fearsome visage of Set. The god himself, part man, part animal, and all-powerful, gestured to Min and Nayari.

  “Take her.” His command was clear and strong, delivered in the voice of Ammonptah. “She is yours. Don’t let that creature have her.”

  “He is Min-”

  Pain lanced through Khanu’s shoulder, and the hand of Set became a claw with the talons of a hawk. The talons dug into his flesh. “He is inferior to me. I am the god of the pharaohs. God of kings. I am their blood and their flesh. Take her in my name, and your union will be blessed.”

  Khanu needed no further encouragement. Even as Min thrust his straining erection at Nayari, Khanu reached across the circle to claim her. She danced out of his way and fell into Min’s outstretched arms.

  “You can’t have her just for the taking. You must earn her.” Set released his death grip on Khanu’s shoulder and rivulets of blood ran down his arm. With eyes the color of the sun, Set followed the trail of crimson drops. “Like me, the blood of kings runs in your veins. You must prove yourself worthy to claim your prize.”

  “How?”

  “Save Pharaoh. Blessed of Set, he is the true ruler of this land. Ammonptah is a pretender to the throne, and he will hold your heart in his hands if he gains power. He will hold her body beneath his again and ravage her in a fruitless effort to bring forth progeny. She will die at his hands, having failed her purpose. Do you want that?”

  “What can I do?”

  “Stop Ammonptah. You run from him like a rabbit runs from the jackal. You must prove your loyalty to Seti, and you will have everlasting peace. Then you will have her by your side forever.”

  “I’ll kill Ammonptah.” The words sounded strange in Khanu’s mouth. How could he pledge to kill the man who had been his master?

  “No. You will help Seti to kill him. And then no man but you will touch your beloved Nayari.”

  Khanu looked back to the circle, and anger surged in him at the sight of Nayari cradled in the arms of Min, eyes closed, head back, her slender throat exposed to the god’s lips.

  “I will do whatever you ask of me.”

  “Then wake.”

  Khanu sat up with a cry of defiance. Cold sweat covered his body and, for the first time in his life, his hands shook. The god Set had come to him in a dream and commanded him. He had to obey.

  He looked down at Nayari, who stirred fitfully in her exhausted sleep. He smoothed her hair and kissed her brow. “I will do as Set commands me, for you. You will not have to leave Egypt in shame.”

  Grant slid his eager hands over Cait’s hips, molding her to him in the sensual warmth beneath the crisp sheets of her bed. She moved beneath him, wrapped her legs around his and moaned softly when he kissed her neck and worked his way to her lips.

  “Khanu dreams big,” he said against her mouth. She stretched and laughed.

  “The gods were so much ingrained in everyday life that it wasn’t uncommon for people to feel their actions were guided by them.”

  “Khanu believed his dream was a message from Set directly.”

  “Of course. An offer he couldn’t refuse, so to speak.”

  “What did he do about it?”

  Cait’s response was lost in a sigh as Grant’s tongue swirled around her nipple. She drew her legs tighter around him and took him inside her again, reveling in his length.

  “He left her in the cave.”

  Nayari woke alone, silver moonlight bathing the grotto where she’d slept so long, dreaming of Khanu. His scent lingered on her hands, and the flavor of his mouth remained on her lips. She shivered for want of his arms around her.

  Where had he gone? She called his name, straining her tired eyes in the half-light, wishing he would appear.

  A faint breeze stirred through her hiding place, and a deep fear gripped her. He’d abandoned her, but why?

  With her heart pounding and her empty stomach aching with fear, she crept from the smooth shelf of sandstone that had been her bed and peered out into the desert between columns of rock. Beyond the wind-gnarled trees of the oasis, a ribbon of stars dusted the black sky. The brilliant disk of the moon seemed to mock her, its smiling face pale and harsh, reminding her of Baakah’s disapproving glare.

  With a prayer to Isis for his safe return, Nayari wrapped her arms around herself and sank to the rocky floor of the cave to wait for her missing warrior.

  “Did he come back?” Grant asked, his voice thick and sleepy now. With Cait’s head resting on his chest, her supple body stretched next to him, he felt completely at peace, except for the nagging anticipation. He had to know what happened to the concubine and her lover.

  Cait mumbled something, and her long fingers flexed against his chest, stirring a feeling in him that he hadn’t expected. He thought of Khanu and wondered if a mere dream would ever entice him to leave a woman he loved at the mercy of the elements, even if the life of a king hung in the balance.

  At this moment, he could think of nothing that could tear him out of Cait’s arms. “Don’t fall asleep now. I want the rest of the story.” He shook her gently, stroked her silky hair and rubbed one foot along the decadent expanse of her leg beneath the tangled sheets. “You said you’d go all the way tonight.”

  “Hmm. I did.” She yawned and stretched languidly beside him. “Okay. Well, the story depicted in the scroll fragment ends there.”

  “No! There has to be more-”

  “ Layton speculated only a few more sentences remained of the narrative. His researchers filled in the rest from obscure references to both Ammonptah and Seti found in the tomb of a man suspected to have been the magistrate’s successor. Layton ’s journal entry concludes with some blatant embellishments.”

  “You mean he made up the rest?”

  “I’ll tell you what he wrote, and you decide for yourself.”

  Nayari woke stiff and cold at the entrance to the cave. Moments after she opened her eyes a familiar sound startled a scream from her.

  A team of oxen stood in the oasis, tethered to a cart emblazoned with the symbols of Ammonptah’s rank and station.

  Her heart sank. He’d found her, and very likely Khanu as well.

  Her instincts told her to run, but where? There was no othe
r exit from the cave. She scuttled backward toward the sandstone shelf, but a shadow fell across her intended hiding place and a rough hand closed over the back of her dress, tearing the delicate linen as she struggled for freedom.

  The arms of a warrior circled her, drawing her against a hard wall of muscle. Her dress hung, torn at the neckline and spilling from one shoulder. A familiar hand reached up to adjust the fabric against her breast.

  Ammonptah himself stood before her. His black eyes held no compassion, none of the benign disinterest she’d come to expect from her master.

  “Tell me he took you against your will, Nayari,” Ammonptah said, his voice rising over her indignant cursing at the warrior who held her fast. “Tell me the traitor seized an opportunity to avail himself of your nubile body while under my orders to protect you.”

  Nayari clamped her lips shut. She would never betray Khanu.

  Ammonptah paced before her, his wrinkled hands clasped behind his back. “He’s told me as much. That he saw you at my house and wanted you for himself out of jealousy for my station. Thinking you a virgin, he wanted to be the first to sample your pleasures and drew you off the road on the way to Coptos. He claims you put up some resistance, but he threatened you with injury, and thus you complied with his demands. He tells me you ran away from the temple out of shame, unable to bear the possibility that the child of someone other than your master might grow in your womb.”

  Nayari kept her eyes averted. Her heart ached for Khanu, to have shamed himself with such a terrible confession in order to spare her Ammonptah’s wrath.

  Her struggle had dislodged the shoulder of her dress again, exposing her breast, the nipple taut with fear. To her disgust, she felt the arousal of the warrior behind her, pressing against the curve of her bottom. She arched away from him, bile rising in her throat.

  “You’ve only to corroborate his story, Nayari. Tell me he violated you, and I’ll set you free. I’ll give you to the house of my nephew, who would be glad of a concubine for himself, even one so misused as you have been.”

  “What of Khanu?” The question slipped out unbidden. No matter what Nayari said to Ammonptah, there would be no mercy for her brave warrior.

  “He’ll die quickly or slowly, depending upon your answer. Confess his crime to me, and I will see that his entrails are fed to the dogs this evening. Protect him, and I’ll think of a more fitting punishment for a man who would betray his king.”

  “You are not pharaoh, and you will never be.” Nayari spat the words, consumed with hatred for the man she’d once thought of as her benefactor.

  Ammonptah’s vicious slap snapped her head to the side. The sting of it felt like acid against the delicate skin of her cheek.

  “I will be pharaoh. But your disloyalty has cost me. Benak-Ra will not want you now that a common servant has taken his pleasure with you. I will have to make another payment in your stead.”

  Nayari only stared defiantly. Tears stung her eyes at the pain Ammonptah had inflicted, but she held her master’s gaze. Secure in the knowledge that both she and Khanu would die no matter what, she denounced her loyalty to the magistrate and spat at his sandaled feet.

  Rather than slapping her again, he laughed. “Take her to the cart. I tire of this.”

  The warrior dragged Nayari from the cave and threw her bodily into the back of the oxen cart. He climbed in after her and secured her wrists together with a leather thong. Musky darkness closed over her when he drew a tightly woven mat across her body. She lay there, sweltering, her hands tingling and her body aching with misery.

  Somewhere along the journey back to Coptos, she fainted in the overwhelming heat, and her fevered dreams turned to Khanu and the precious life they might have created together.

  Cait’s torpor began to lift as she told the rest of the story from Layton ’s journal.

  Though just as compelling as the account contained in the scroll fragment, she’d often wondered about the veracity of what came next. It seemed too fantastic, even for the mystery-shrouded world of ancient Egypt.

  Beside her, Grant leaned on one elbow, his gorgeous eyes intent. He seemed to be drinking in every word. “Tell me Khanu rescued her,” he prompted, then he induced an electric shiver in her when he ran one hand over the curve of her hip.

  She shook her head sadly, wishing the details were different. “He’d already been captured by Ammonptah’s soldiers, some of whom he had counted as friends only a few days before. Layton speculated that Khanu attempted to kill Ammonptah on the advice of Set and that some of the magistrate’s own men were loyal to Seti and tried to help. Those who were not discovered the plan after Khanu confessed his true story to a trusted few. Since none dared reveal themselves, no one could help the lovers, who were taken back to Coptos and bound to stakes on opposite sides of a windowless temple room. What happened next is largely speculation, but-”

  Grant lowered his gaze. “Ammonptah tortured them to death, no doubt.”

  “Worse.” Cait closed her eyes, trying to block out the more lurid details of the tale Layton had cobbled together from so many obscure references. She’d fallen in love with Khanu and Nayari, and she preferred to believe that somehow they’d escaped the terrible fate Ammonptah devised for them. “At that time, belief in the afterlife was the guiding force in Egyptian society. Their entire social structure revolved around preparations for life after death. The wealthy were almost assured a coveted place at the right hand of the gods, purchased with gold and the sweat of countless servants and slaves. The poor had a lesser hope of salvation, but they did whatever they could to gain favors that would help them into heaven.

  “Ammonptah had once been a good man, so Layton ’s journal says, but his association with Benak-Ra and his quest for power corrupted him. He decided that Khanu and Nayari didn’t deserve a place in the afterlife. Working with the wizard over the course of a fortnight, he devised a fabled object. It’s no more than a myth, but Layton seemed to believe in it.”

  “The Soul Jar?”

  Cait stared at Grant. His eyes shown in the dim moonlight filtering through the lace curtains of her bedroom. “You’ve heard of it?”

  “I found one reference to it in my studies over the years. Supposedly it was an alabaster jar the size and shape of a heron’s egg. I had no idea what it was used for.”

  “Apparently Benak-Ra put a spell on the jar and devised a ritual that would drag the souls of Nayari and Khanu from their bodies and imprison them in the jar forever.”

  “A wizard that powerful could certainly help elevate Ammonptah to the throne.”

  “According to Layton ’s journal, the spell worked.”

  Grant sat up, his brows drawing together and his lips tight in anticipation. “No wonder Layton wanted his finds kept secret. A theory like that would have destroyed his academic reputation.”

  “He seemed to think the jar existed, but in all his years of research, he never found any evidence to support his belief.”

  “So tell me what happened. This can’t be the end of the story.”

  “Almost.” Cait drew the cool sheets around her body and crossed her legs. She felt like a teenager telling campfire stories at a slumber party. If only this tale had a happier ending.

  Chapter Seven

  On the fourteenth day of their captivity, Ammonptah entered the torch-lit cell where Khanu and Nayari lay barely conscious on the dry stone floor. Benak-Ra followed the magistrate, his hunched, skeletal body nearly hobbled by the weight of golden robes and a headdress that rivaled that of Pharaoh himself. The wizard hovered over Khanu first, anointing his head with foul-smelling oil. Then he moved to Nayari, his black eyes soulless and terribly cold.

  Khanu roused himself, drawing on the last ounce of strength in his battered body to protect the woman he loved. “Don’t touch her!” he croaked through dry lips.

  Nayari stirred at the sound of his voice and pulled herself away from Benak-Ra’s bony touch. Unmoved, the wizard completed his task and turned to
Ammonptah. “I believe she has conceived. We must perform the magick now, before the gods intervene to protect the soul of the child.”

  Khanu rolled to his knees, his eyes focused on Nayari’s pale form. Could the evil wizard be right? Did she carry his child?

  Two warriors entered the room on Ammonptah’s command and cut their bonds. Weakened by hunger and thirst, though, neither had the strength to break free of their captivity. Together they were dragged across the room to a stone altar on which sat an oval jar of the purest white alabaster.

  Ammonptah stood before the altar and invoked all the powers of Min. Beside him, Benak-Ra called on darker forces with an ancient, forbidden chant.

  The warriors who held them drew close together and, for the first time since he’d left her in the cave, Khanu felt Nayari’s fingers brush his arm. “I love you,” she whispered, her voice raw.

  “I love you, my wife. We’ll be together on the other side of the sky. I promise you that.”

  In Khanu’s ear, the warrior who held his arms tightly behind his back whispered barely audible words. “Forgive us, brother. Your sacrifice will be remembered by Pharaoh.”

  Khanu’s eyes widened at the strange message, but he dared not ask any questions. He’d been betrayed by those he trusted with his story, tortured for all the information he’d learned from the acolytes at Min’s temple. Had someone taken the knowledge and used it to assure Seti’s safety?

  Ammonptah turned at that moment, the small jar clutched in his hand. He raised the vessel and shouted an incantation that seemed to echo against the soot-stained walls.