Taor still did not even know the name of this tribe. He did not understand their language and could not ask them anything, nor would he dare to enter into conversation with the vanquished. Some kind of anger, something gloomy emanated from them, and each time he averted his eyes, stumbling across the crowd at one of them.
Their faces were surprisingly unpleasant in appearance, their skin was earthy, their eyes were of an unpleasant shade that gave off red. Facial features also had little in common with the faces of the Egyptians and representatives of any other peoples familiar to him. Pointed noses, pointed ears, eyebrows like wings, lipless mouths with old people it was still understandable, but he had never seen such ugly women and children. Perhaps for their tribe, such features of appearance were considered normal, but the Egyptian was unpleasant to look at it.
Taor suddenly remembered Ujjai, his withered limb and the hopeless despair in his eyes.
Perhaps these people were not born so ugly, but something happened during the war, which disfigured their faces and bodies. But what? What could have happened to women and children who did not go to the battlefield themselves and did not even come close to dangerous areas where men were fighting. Taor was perplexed Probably, there was something unhealthy in the local deserts, which was so reflected in the appearance of the local population. Each person looks beautiful as long as he is not sick with anything. One mentor, once in his childhood, told him that all the people of the world, like fruits or flowers, plant them on not fertile soil, and nothing will remain of external beauty. The fruit will rot, the flower will wither, and the person from hard work and lack of comfort will become weak and unattractive in appearance. As far as Taor observed, there was some truth in this. Women who were born into poverty did grow ugly at an astonishing rate, but those who lived in palaces looked like beautiful flowers.
The lotuses in the palace gardens also seemed more beautiful than anywhere else. Taor sat down right on the ground in front of one of the ponds. Here he was found by the kings messenger, who brought a small scroll in a gold frame. He thought that this was an invitation to another celebration, but no the pharaohs daughters sent him an invitation to appear and tell about their military exploits. There were signatures below. Taor shuddered, expecting to see a new name he didnt know before the name of that golden creature from the throne room. She, too, must be a princess, so it seemed to him, at least. But the list included only the names of the princesses already known to him: Meritaton, Setepenra, Nefernephriaton-tasherit, Ankhesenpaaton. Everyone who gave him their attention long before. The only strange name was the last name: Macketaton the already dead daughter of Pharaoh. She herself could not sign this invitation in any way. This is probably a mistake.
Taor did not know how to respond to this invitation. Now he could not keep anyone company. There was a whistling void in his head. He must have gone a little distraught after the last battle. Probably those deserts were cursed and it was not worth going there, but he had to defend the lands of Egypt from the attackers. In those deserts, he lost all his usual cheerfulness, and brought with him something gloomy and oppressive. Every time he tried to sleep, the battle in his dreams continued: arrows whistled, the dead rose, a voice sounded from heaven, only much more clearly than he had heard long ago in reality. The voice is like a golden ray that tore apart black clouds. It seems that instead of rain in his dreams, blood was pouring from heaven, and he felt its streams on his face. The skin was stained with scarlet clots, the world around him became ugly, and the voice from heaven was divinely beautiful.
«I choose you,» he said, and Taor woke up with the feeling that the sword that someone had put in his hand should destroy everyone, including himself, in search of one single victim.
They were just dreams, he consoled himself. In the old days, he would have gone to the temple, made sacrifices and asked the priest for advice on how to interpret these dreams, but now only the temples of Aton remain. For some reason, this god repulsed him. Probably because he took the place of everyone else. Such absolute power was frightening, and how suddenly it happened. There was nothing, only the sun remained. The entire pantheon of familiar gods was no longer absent, was replaced by only one. As if one of the members of a large family cut out everyone else in order to establish themselves in their power.
Taor didnt like this. But what could he do? Everything is decided by the pharaoh, who himself is revered as a god on earth, and ordinary mortals must only obey him. This is how the world works. This is how Egypt works. But who and why arranged it this way? Who is really the one who hides there in the sky like a golden voice? One inhabitant of heaven or many?
Such thoughts had never occurred to him before. He was a simple youth who knew only about the military craft and a variety of martial arts. Governing the country is not his lot. To rethink the norms of religion or the structure of power is also not given to him. He just doesnt understand anything about it.
The only thing that caught his attention in the throne room was the golden silhouette behind the back of the throne. He had never seen anything more beautiful in his life. Where to see her again? Taor looked around. Somewhere in the palace, of course, you can meet her, but where? So far, he has had no luck, although he has been wandering back and forth all day. Perhaps she still did not leave her chambers or from the chambers of the Pharaoh himself. Can she be his wife, not a daughter, another queen of Egypt above Kiya and Nefertiti? But then, why doesnt anyone talk about her, glorify her name, as it should be? However, no one said anything about Nefertiti and Kiya either, as if there were no more of them. And even none of the harem was present in the throne room. Pharaoh was alone, apart from the golden winged creature next to him, which no one seemed to see.
Taor wanted to ask someone about her directly, but still hesitated. He felt in his gut that it was not worth doing. There are things that living people are better off not talking about, like the dead coming to life on the battlefield in the battle from which he himself recently returned.
The lotuses in the garden pond gave off a strange scent, like the scent of death. They were all white. No variety. And earlier, a riot of colors reigned here.
The young man brushed the bluish-black strands of hair from his forehead and looked at his reflection in the water. His face remained beautiful and without scars, as if he had not just been in the thick of the battle. For some reason, the mark on the forehead was not reflected in the water mirror. Taor frowned.
«I choose you!»
What did these words mean? They were supposed to mean something, right? Now he, too, saw the reflection of the sky in the water, but the voice from heaven did not sound. Perhaps it only sounds in a dream. Or in that state of battle, which is close to eternal sleep. This is the name of the gods themselves to another world. It is the gods, not god. Taor still believed there were many. But the only divine creature that he saw with his own eyes was somewhere in the palace here. And it was not an idol, it was alive. What a pity that there, in the throne room, it was impossible to come close and touch to see if it really exists. It said something in the ear of Pharaoh, but he did not hear the words, it moved, but did not leave the place, it had seductive feminine features, but he did not feel physical attraction, only some kind of madness. It was as if he had been hit on the head, and he moved as if delirious.
«The beauty of the gods should frighten mortals.» The inscription in hieroglyphs was carved on the column recently and inaccurately, as if someones claws had scratched it deeply into the stone. Taor only noticed her because he sat down beside her. I wonder how many more symbols appeared in the palace that were not there before.
The garden was filled with amazing animals and birds, whose names Taor did not know. Probably, travelers brought them here from such distant places that he had never heard of. The little monkeys scurrying through the orange trees were black as demons.
Somewhere far away the hymn to Aton sounded.
«Hail»
What a monotonous chant. It was as if all around it immediately became darker. It was twilight and fatigue, Taor decided, he wanted to sleep.
Scary holiday
A strange chomping woke him up. These are two magnificent birds, which he noticed in the trees during the day, pecking pieces of fresh meat on the ground. They did it so aggressively and viciously that they no longer seemed so beautiful. Drops of blood sparkled on the plumage.
Interestingly, but human meat? Taor could not understand the reason for this thought.
He had just had a strange dream that golden winged creature that he was looking for was sitting opposite him on the ground by the pond and performing some terrible ritual. It cut black birds and whispered something, and then buried winged corpses right in the ground. All around were symbols inscribed in blood and lighted torches. Taor saw neither one nor the other now. The ground was untouched, torches burning only in brackets on the walls behind the garden. The hymn to Aton sounded somewhere again. When he fell asleep, he heard him too. The singing hurt the ear unpleasantly.
«Glory! Your greatness is eternal, beautiful Aton. You shine over everyone, but all your secrets are known to only one Akhenaten. Nobody knows you the way he did».
A strange hymn. Taor raised himself on his elbows. In the darkness, the palace garden did not look as pretty as it did during the day. The gloom closed over the lotus ponds almost perceptibly. The heat was everywhere, not a breath of breeze. Who would have thought to line up torches stuck in the ground in a dense ring and cut birds in their circle? But that was exactly what he saw in half asleep. He probably just imagined it. Everything happened in an eerie silence, the birds did not scream, because their beaks were pulled together by something metallic. The ritual knife, which was commonly used to cut the mouth of mummies, dug into their plumage, slicing through the flesh. The golden winged creature did not raise its head from its occupation. It did everything mechanically and somehow obsessively, as if someones life, or more, many lives were veiled from this.
«Many lives of someones enemies», these were also the words of the hymn to Aton, or someone pronounced them right into the silence. «You can only slaughter black birds, and the warriors on the battlefield will die by themselves. Or, on the contrary, rise from the dead. What I wish. My choice is everything, and yours is nothing».
Taor looked around in bewilderment. The dream was eerie, and now it left a heavy impression. It seemed that graceful fingers, tearing apart the carcasses of birds, and then digging graves for them, would never leave his memory. A beautiful creature in a dream moved itself somehow like an animal. So predatory!
Somewhere in the distance the rhythmic beat of many drums was heard, after a while the sounds of lyres, flutes, flutes and zithers joined it. It looks like a holiday. At a time like this? Its deep night now.
Taor got up with difficulty and walked in the direction from which the music was heard. It was now gloomy, now solemn. With such sounds, they were escorted to the tomb of the pharaohs. There was more of a funeral hymn here than of idle mirth. Maybe someone died? Taor was somehow all the same One ruler, another ruler. The young man is used to not getting attached to anyone. He was a lonely person, not tied either by family or by any material values. His duty was to serve the one who is currently occupying the throne of Egypt. And who exactly, it doesnt matter But the thought that that beautiful golden creature, which he took for the princess of Egypt, could be buried with such celebrations, echoed with an unbearable blow in his mind. He clearly imagined how a winged body was lying on a luxurious stretcher, his hands with claws were folded on his chest, and a real live snake with a golden skin was twisting on his forehead instead of the royal ureus.
He hurried. The premises of the palace were empty, as well as in the dark gardens. Nobody! No servants, no guards, not a single person But judging by the sounds that reached him, a large crowd had gathered in the throne room. Taor rushed there, and then an unpleasant surprise awaited him two Nubians with halberds, who remained on guard at the entrance, blocked his way.
It was useless to argue with them. Behind the drawn curtains, Taor did not even manage to see what was happening there, beyond the passage that they so vigilantly guard. The guards in the palaces were silent, like statues, and very executive. You cant slip past them. Taor was about to come to terms with this, but then he noticed a strange man in a Horus suit. Isnt it now forbidden to worship this god or keep a reminder of him? Taor even doubted the new statutes. The stranger was so confident. He beckoned Taor to follow him, and the young man suddenly realized that he could not disobey.
He moved for the best copy of a god that, perhaps, only a mortal could recreate. Horus moved, dancing slightly, and incessantly beckoning Taor with him with slightly feathered hands.
Taor noticed on the wall a new modified image of Aton, vividly reminding that there is only one god now. And yet Horus was here. Either this is just a joker, if you pay attention to his cheeky postures, or today is the very night when traditions can be violated for some reason.
Some kind of incense smoked on the tripods in the corners with an unusual smell, intoxicating the mind. Maybe it only seems to him that the dancing Horus in front of him is the real god, and the shimmering costume on him is actually an integral part of his body.
Taor felt himself suffocate. He reached up to his neck to rip open the nonexistent collar, but instead tore open the necklace he had worn for a long time the final reminder of his mother who died. Oddly, he didnt even feel the slightest regret. The beads rolled across the floor. Taor stepped over them and followed Horus, now beckoning him away from the palace.
So they went out into the street. The crowd was buzzing here. The pleasant nighttime freshness was dispelled by smoking torches. Taor looked around in amazement. How many people gathered in the square in front of the palace. The whole city did not sleep at night? He did not remember anything like that. Those gathered were noisy. Someone expressed delight, someone fear. Taor alone did not understand what was the matter. He followed Horus, before whom the people parted without hesitation. No one recognized him as yesterdays hero. Or people were just overly involved with something else. He looked in the same direction as everyone else at the dais in front of the royal palace. It was possible to get there only from the balcony of the throne room, nevertheless, the guards in atypical red robes gathered below. Torches blazed high in the brackets, snatching from the darkness a magnificent image of Aton. Next to him, everyone seemed insects, even the pharaoh, but not the golden creature with luxurious wings, proudly occupying the center of the dais. Everyone came to look at him a living deity. It looked just like that.