Kitabı oku: «And His Name Is Dennitza. Daughter of Dawn», sayfa 2
At the exit, the chief vizier caught up with him. Panahesi was angry. Now, when there were almost no witnesses around, he no longer tried to control himself.
«You cannot ask for mercy on the one who was going to kill you».
«But my petition will soon be in your hands. You will have to hand it over to Pharaoh, whether you like it or not.
– You have already crossed all permissible boundaries today.
Borders?! Who installed them? Taor looked away. He knew that he was asking too much, he expected that his request would be refused, but his right to at least try to intercede for all these people».
«They will not be grateful to you, all these people…»
«I don’t need it».
«Just do not say that you never dreamed of your own power, let it be power even over a small province of Egypt».
«Never,» the answer came easily to him, because he was always honest and straightforward. Many were disarmed by such honesty, so Panahesi suddenly took a step back.
«So you are not like everyone else».
«Like everyone in the palace, is that what you want to say? You know only those people who come here sooner or later. I communicated with ordinary people in all parts of the world, I met those who were ready to sacrifice themselves for the sake of another’.
«While not being in love with him?»
The question was venomous, like a crushed snake, because Taor did not understand its meaning.
«On the battlefield, no one is in love with anyone, but someone is always ready to sacrifice himself to save a comrade, even if he does not know his name, even if he never sees him again at the end of the war».
«These are all ordinary soldiers, but the one who raised his hand against you raised it against the Pharaoh himself, since you represent him’.
«But I want peace and forgiveness for everyone, because I know what war is. So let him be forgiven».
«This is stupid kindness».
«And yet it’s right,» Taor turned and wanted to leave. The feeling that someone was watching him did not pass, and it was not at all the grand vizier who had pestered him so inappropriately with unnecessary discussion. He decided everything for himself, he did not want to change anything in his actions or outlook. Fate made him a warrior, but he didn’t want war. He knew how to fight as if he himself were one of the gods, but did not see the need for bloodshed. If people knew how to be honest, then they could agree on everything peacefully. So he believed and was not going to change his opinion.
His armor clanked melodiously as Taor departed. The sandals scratched the floor a little.
«You cannot save the whole world,» Panahesi’s angry voice caught up with him at the door.
«But I have the right to try».
Taor objected, turning only slightly, but a golden shadow in the distance struck him like a flash of lightning. His head was scorched, his heart was scorched… What is it? Glamour! Or, near the already empty throne of the pharaoh, someone really stood and looked at him, as if at an insect that would certainly be crushed someday.
All-crushing power
The day before
They didn’t want to obey. Riots have happened before. Alais is used to it. The new pharaoh wanted too much. As soon as he ascended the throne, he already behaved differently from all his predecessors: his fathers, grandfathers, great-grandfathers, the entire royal dynasty of Egypt, revered on a par with the gods. Amenhotep was also revered as an earthly god, but Alais knew that he was not. And he knew it too. Ever since the dark winged lover left him, Amenhotep, the current Akhenaten, realized that he, like every ordinary representative of his people, is only mortal. He didn’t want to put up with it. Already in the second year of his reign, he chose a different name and a different fate than that of everyone who sat on the Egyptian throne before him. He wanted to become a god in reality. Alais didn’t mind his feeble attempts to transform, because after all, everything he did, he did for her.
Now she ruled Egypt, like all its provinces. But some didn’t like it. Although they saw the wings behind her, they insincerely worshiped her as a deity. They felt creepy at the sight of her face, hypnotized by unearthly beauty, but they were embarrassed by the girl’s body.
It especially confused the commander-in-chief Ujai. According to the long-established unwritten laws of advantages, here he felt himself the strongest. Moreover, it was not only a matter of physical strength, which might seem overwhelming. He felt himself in charge of all the military forces of the country, and this gave him an unconditional advantage. With everyone except the ruler, he behaved unceremoniously and arrogantly. For the daughter of Pharaoh, as Alais was first introduced to him, he kindled with base sympathy, but as soon as he received a refusal, he fiercely hated her. Once he sent her jewelry and flowers, and now he was ready to crush the walls with his bare fists, just to harm her. Alais fed on his rage as a source of life-giving energy. When people are angry, rampant, or simply worried about something, their power is so easy to steal. That’s all she needed from people – to drink from them all her life, like juice from a fruit.
It is good that Ujai did not know about this, otherwise he would have made an effort on himself and restrained his emotions. Today he has gathered a whole regiment of people who share his opinion. He easily incited others to take risks. Therefore, it should have been eliminated. He, in turn, dreamed of eliminating her. Who will win? Alais looked at him and her eyes laughed. The mortal did not know with what force he had contacted.
«I understand why I have to obey Pharaoh’s orders, but why should I obey you? Why should we all?»
Others didn’t support him with an approving giggle just because they were a little afraid of the arrogant creature with wings and golden claws, but they continued to stand a little further from Ujaya. A whole small army, located in a semicircle in the large palace hall.
It was worth studying them all before destroying them, even though there was little time. Something told Alais that the instigator here was not Ujai at all. Someone, more secretive and dangerous, lurked behind a crowd of human heads and bodies. She inhaled the scent of cruelty and evil through her nostrils. Whoever this person was, but now he was hurt, as it seemed to him, quite by accident. Just a pinprick. This is how the creatures with iron claws that served her acted. They roamed about the floors of the palace, and no one would have distinguished them from the cats. It will be easy to detect by the smell of blood.
«You!» Alais stretched her hand forward and pointed directly at the wounded man. «Speak for yourself! No one is obliged to voice your thoughts and desires for you, even if you brought him with an army to this hall».
Ujai could not object to this. He suddenly felt that he was losing the ability to speak at all. His throat was constricted like a stranglehold. The other congregation exchanged furtive glances. They knew who had brought them here. But how did she know? Fear and suspicion are the first weapons to confuse the enemy. Alais was aware of her strength.
The instigator had no escape from her. His blood attracted like the exquisite aroma of wine. He had doomed himself as soon as he turned against her. And it didn’t even matter who he was: one of the priests who did not support the cult of Aton, a disgruntled official or the pharaoh’s son lost in a harem, who envied that she had chosen Smenkhkara, and not him. Alais followed the smell of blood, paralyzing everyone who got in the way with her gaze. Those who saw her now knew: you will not object to the deity, you simply cannot open your mouth when it pronounces its truth, you will not enter into confrontation with the deity, because in his presence you will be numb. Those who thought otherwise were stupid.
The instigator was bleeding before she even touched him. The body was covered with red blisters, as if it had been doused with boiling water. He decomposed before he died. But along with him, a dozen more soldiers were covered with a rash. They did nothing to her, but they died the same way. Their number continued to increase until it exceeded half of those present. Ujai looked and could not believe his eyes. His best people knelt or fell flat on the floor, and in the blink of an eye turned into vile rotting remains, as if someone had been drinking from them all their lives.
«Together with everyone who disobeyed, I will kill forty more innocent people,» Alais explained. It doesn’t matter. How indifferent she said it, as if she had crushed insects that deserved it.
Her golden nails were not bloody, but looking at this creature, Ujai involuntarily imagined that someday he would have the blood of the whole world on him. And he once loved this creature. Did you think you loved?
But did you yourself act better, asked the voice of conscience in a distant corner of his consciousness, did you yourself not chop down hundreds of people in battles, did not give orders to advance and not spare anyone. Ujai filled the memory of the slaughter with wine. Alais never ate or drank anything, except human blood. She did not hack to death hundreds of people in battle, she killed forty people with witchcraft. But how did she do it… With what amazing indifference! As if it was her sacred right to take the lives of people around the world.
«Forty is the number of my god,» she explained calmly, but so that everyone would hear. «Remember that together with each of the guilty forty innocent people from his inner circle will be killed. Or just people dear to him».
«And so Aton orders?» Ujjai is finally speechless again.
«Aton?» Her graceful eyebrows arched in amazement. «What does Aton have to do with it?»
It seemed that her laughter would now be heard, but an amazing silence reigned in the hall.
«You said ’your god,»» Ujai said after all. «That is, the sun god?»
And again a sly smile. What was behind it? This creature knew much more than told them all, and even Pharaoh. How cleverly it manipulated everyone and everything here! How delightful it looked! He hated Alais and yet could not take his eyes off her. He wanted to look at her and look until he finally loses his mind. This is how the one who is doomed to burn in its rays looks at the sun. Ujai now felt so condemned, who had been suspended high in the mountains in the desert to be burned entirely – a long painful execution. He knew this firsthand. Alais flapped her dark wings, dispelling all his illusions. Creation of gold, darkness and the power of solar fire.
«The first name of the sun god was not Aton», Alais looked at him, no longer laughing.
«What’s the difference? Egypt is ruled by you, not he. On his behalf, but still we will all have to bow to you. Instead of the cult of Aton, then there will be the cult of Alais, and it does not matter if there is a god at all.
«It is not in your power to look at the one who was considered to be a god from the beginning and at the same time not to lose his mind, man».
The last word made him angry. An insect, that’s what she really wanted to call it. People were just insects to her. And it doesn’t matter who they are: slaves carrying blocks for pyramids or royal entourage – they are all just people. It’s just those who live and die, from whom only a handful of rotting meat and bones will remain in the end, and she is different. There is nothing human in it.
It looked more like a sculpture cast in gold tones. The stone features expressed nothing, and at the same time the cold face seemed to be something vulnerable, almost defenseless. He could not love her. He wanted to hit that seductive face, so proud and so innocent, even some kind of naivety flashed in the azure eyes, and then they suddenly turned green, like an emerald, like Basted’s cat eyes. He did not think about the goddesses for a long time, the rudeness in his experience was the main thing, he beat women in his harem, beat whores on the night banks of the Nile, beat slaves, but he would not dare to swing at the daughter of Pharaoh, even if not real, but his hand involuntarily clenched into a fist, and then Alais deftly intercepted it, as if she was about to shake it. It was not even the strength of this shaking that struck him, but the fact that the whole hand suddenly flared up, as if on fire. Such a pain! He closed his eyes, gritted his teeth so as not to scream, but the scream still broke through. The hand was bubbling and went crimson spots. The spots turned into ulcers, eating flesh. In just a few seconds, nothing was left of the hand but the charred remains. Now he was screaming at the top of his lungs, no longer holding back. And Alais looked all the same indifferently, and it was no longer clear where her gaze was directed: at the crippled warrior or at the entire crowd of human beings in general, absolutely superfluous in this room where the deity settled.
Let the rest live as a warning to others. There are less than forty of them. Alais beckoned with a golden claw the one who seemed to be the youngest and most naive. He will never leave her field of vision. Perhaps his arms and legs will remain intact, but… Alais was looking for a place where she would put her seal. Ear, finger, shoulder, neck… better right on the forehead, under a lock of hair. She brought her claws to his forehead. They are sharp as razors and hot as the hot disc of the sun. You need to press them to human skin just once, and a person will become its slave for his entire life.
First impression
Taor did not know what to do here. He seemed to have done everything that the ceremonial obliged him to, and was free to leave, but he was ordered to remain in the palace as an honored guest.
«The days of festivities lie ahead,» Smenkhkara explained to him.
«What kind of festivities?» the young man was amazed. There were no holidays at this time of the year, unless… he forgot that instead of all the previous gods now there was only one, which means that the dates of religious celebrations were also postponed to another time. He did not ask about it in detail, so as not to show himself a simpleton. In the intricacies of secular and religious life, he really did not understand well. Military science was the only thing in which he understood something.
It is a pity that the memories of the victory were somewhat darkened. He often closed his eyes and imagined a dark cloud over the battlefield, where the dead revived and again rushed into battle. There must be many miracles happening in the world, but he had never seen such a thing before. Much in the last war may have seemed strange and implausible. It seemed as if the dark palace mirrors at dusk were beginning to reflect that battle again. But all around was calm. The only reminders of the war here were people in wretched clothes scurrying through the festive crowd – these were the prisoners whom he offered to release, and who wished to stay here as guests during the celebrations. They could be understood. Food and drink – that’s what attracted people here, left homeless by the war and deprived of everything they had acquired. Will they stay in Egypt forever, finding places for servants? Or, after resting, they will go back to the devastated lands where they come from?
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 king’s messenger, who brought a small scroll in a gold frame. He thought that this was an invitation to another celebration, but no – the pharaoh’s 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 didn’t 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 didn’t 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 doesn’t 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 doesn’t 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 someone’s 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.
