A Homecoming on the Nile 15 April 1999

The dawn broke early as Nefertina again whipped her horses along to the house of Rath. "You're cheerful this day," she said to Sohkarra.

"Why not, it's a beautiful morning," her friend said.

"Yeah it is," Nefertina agreed. Sohkarra looked at her friend oddly.

"What?"

"You look like you have a sense of deja vu," she said to Nefertina as they pulled along the main street past the temple of Karnack.

"Maybe it's because I drive you here every day, you silly!" Nefertina laughed. "This is a habit I tell you..."

"Hmm. Every morning and every evening..."

"Not last evening..." said Nefertina. A dark cloud came over her happiness.

"I heard about that..." she said. "Kenna had no right to challenge you to a race. He's risking much endangering people like that... what if you two had been..."

"It was my idea," she said. "I got sick of him boasting how fast he could make the horses go. So I told him to put his money where his mouth was. I would have won, if I didn't end up taking that wine merchant here..."

"You did the right thing," she said.

"How did you know about it?"

"Kenna was only just talking about it in the garrison, and Armon overheard him," Sohkarra said simply. "And you know how news travels at the palace..."

"I wish he'd mind his own biz wax," she grumbled, a red flush coming over her face. At last they were at Rath's house.

"Okay, here we are," Sohkarra said cheerfully.

"The second time this morning," Nefertina giggled. "This is a habit!"

"The second time?" she asked. "You mean you already took Marianne to the palace and didn't tell me?"

"No way," Nefertina said. "I just dropped Rath off half an hour ago singing and grinning like some idiot, and that's when you found me and told me to take you back here..."

"Uh Nefertina, would you mind waiting for me then? Somehow I don't think it will take long..."

"Okay..." she said, as the house steward helped Sohkarra down. Whispered directions bade him offer Nefertina come inside and share a drink of beer.

IN RATH's HOUSE:

Much later she shook off sleep to find him no longer present. Her probing hands touched a neatly tied papyrus scroll laid neatly upon his place on the bed. Sadly she guessed he must have been summoned back to his duty at the palace. Still exhausted she didn't bother reading the scribed note as she slipped into fitful sleep in his bed again. Only when the next morning came did she awaken again. Stiff and sore, but feeling quite good actually. A sense of well being spread over her entire body. Slowly she lay there on her side beneath his coverlets, and hugged herself. It was a very comfortable bed, this one. A transformation had taken place in her. Now she had tasted lovemaking, and there was no fear or shame. It could be good. But part of her realized part of him would always be separate. Reserved. Yet that was all right. For pieces of her would never be understood by him. And the first time wasn't necessarily the best and only time the "earth would move."

Again her fingers found his scroll, and she ran a manicured nail over the hieroglyphics. Reading the verse he'd penned. His own special poem to her...

She breathed a bit realizing the depth of feeling there. Slowly she thought of the other poems he had written in that scroll she'd found. The one that she'd shoved into its place to one side. Who was that woman in the statue he prayed to every day? Also, who was the object of the love poems? He had been married before. And Marianne realized it must be she.

A name came in her mind. The woman in the poem... Ashake. And he had given the offering, saying the same name.

"Ashake," she muttered. "Who are you? And why doesn't he say your name in these walls? For him to love you so... you must have been quite a woman..."

An eerie feeling of deja vu came over the scientist. Someone must have been inside the room, and he had long since departed, for his discarded clothes were gone. She reached for a garment, anything to slip round her naked form. Her dress from the other day had disappeared. Downstairs she could hear the servants chatting. Suddenly there was a woman's voice at the foot of the stairs and she freaked. Clutching the blanket to her chest she bolted and tripped headlong.

"Go away!" Marianne called out. "I don't want any breakfast." At first she though it was a servant come to "check up on her."

Her heart stopped in her mouth when she recognized the voice. For a pair of sandaled feet met her eyes as she traced up to a rather amused face of her friend Sohkarra.

"I'm not the servant..." she said, a twisted smile on her face.

"What are you doing here?" Marianne demanded, holding the open ends of the blanket around her firmly as she got up.

"What am I doing here? I should ask you that question." Sohkarra said rather pointedly. "I'm supposed to be chaperoning you, that's what I'm doing here!"

"Chaperoning... me..." Marianne said, weakly as she felt the room spin. Dear Lord if Sohkarra knew...but she probably did know…with that infernal sixth sense of hers…... if anyone else knew...

Past her Sohkarra, who did indeed know something had occurred, glanced into the master bedroom. "Hmm, some rather unusual activity here lately..." she said, thumbing her chin.

"Please it was... no I mean..." Marianne spluttered awkwardly as her face flushed bright red.

"Don't worry, I won't say anything," Sohkarra said calmly. Her sapphire blue eyes held a look of understanding, tinged with mischief. For a moment she had let Marianne squirm, but it was not malicious intent. Rather a sense of pulling her friend's leg. "Besides, I cannot always be around you twenty four hours a day. I was busy, is all...and so were you it would seem."

"Where in blazes is my dress?" Marianne choked as she heard the tail end of Sohkarra's statement, as she felt breath returning. She didn't realized till then she had been awaiting exhalation.

Marianne flinched as she heard the servants for real. "Come on, let's get you decent," Sohkarra giggled as she nudged Marianne along the hallway. Down the extensive stairs into the bathing chamber. She shrieked as the blanket was pulled from her naked body and she was coaxed to stand inside a clay vat. Warmed water was poured over her head, and felt quite wonderful. Followed by a vigorous soap down all over her sweat caked body.

Then came the layers of hippopotamus fat, a moisturizer, and olive oil poured over her hair. It seemed funny to exchange one layer of oil for another, but the moisturizer was a must. Her own skin was getting a protective tan finally. But the blasted blood she'd wiped off one hand felt suspicious. She'd thought they'd notice for sure.

"Oh, milady, you did not tell me it was your time of the moon!" despaired the serving woman.

"It... came by surprise... I am sorry if I am unclean..."

"That... is not shameful," sighed the serving woman. "We will simply put you downstairs... in the guest chamber. It is... a fitting place for you..."

"Very well..."

"But you must not go outside for till it is done..."

Inwardly she sighed with relief. That they had not taken it for what it was, her virginity now taken. But she had surrendered it freely. And he had that privilege... Outwardly she groaned at the old practices of this century with regard to menstruating women.

Sohkarra held up her towel and Marianne dabbed herself off. Quickly the serving women dressed Marianne, after checking to make sure every inch of her was free of blemish or hair. Then came the long white dress and the extensions of braids into her hair. Followed by a full vial of olive oil and the styling. Marianne looked at her reflection in the mirror, and became the Priestess of Thoth again. All it took was the fastening of the collar about her neck, for Sohkarra had found it in Rath's bedroom and quickly taken it out and was now fastening it around her neck.

"Oh, thanks!" she whispered to her friend, who had done the catch as she held her hair aside.

"You'd be amazed what people leave behind," Sohkarra giggled, voice close in a whisper.

"Oh quit!" Marianne hissed. "You're terrible!"

"I can't resist!" Sohkarra laughed, totally amused. She did not intend to let the secret out of what she suspected. For she had dreamed of such pleasures beyond prying eyes and protocol.

There was a quick breakfast laid out before them by the servant. Nefertina was there, standing off to one side! "Er, Nefertina," she said slowly. "Nice... to see you this morning."

"Same here," Nefertina smiled. It didn't register why Marianne was still here. "By the way, when you see Rath, tell him thanks..."

"For what?" she asked, a bit nervous.

"Those fish are great. And the beer is wonderful..." said Nefertina as she went out to her team again.

"Good grief I am on edge," Marianne muttered. Breakfast was brought out to them.

Sohkarra noticed with interest as Marianne had a bowl of barley porridge set before her instead of the usual bread. And oranges! Rath grew them in a special place in his fruit orchards. Not the usual bread and onions.

Sohkarra knew why. "I want to keep some of my teeth intact," Marianne said, at the sapphire-questioning glance. "If I die back here, I don't' want it to be of a toothache!"

"All right, you're the future expert," Sohkarra laughed. She bit into her bread rather tentatively, then put it down. Her tongue automatically ran over her teeth as if to inspect for wear.

"You see!" Marianne laughed, getting a little verbal jab in at her friend. Sohkarra laughed and said, "Ouch. That serves me back for my little pulling your leg this morning..."

"You're mean!" Marianne said, pretending to be stern.

"Aww, I wouldn't do that with just anyone," Sohkarra laughed, tapping her on the arm. The two friends shared their next few moments in silence, as their smiles were apparent. All too soon they went out to meet Nefertina who was to take them to the royal palace.

Nefertina couldn't help but exchange a grin with her friends as she whipped her horses along. Still very much in the service of Pharaoh, she had patiently waited for Sohkarra to fetch Marianne.

"Late night, huh?" Nefertina asked Marianne as the Priestess rubbed her eyes. She grumbled as she searched for her pot of kohl. Sohkarra quickly helped her friend to renew the makeup as the chariot bounced along. No mean task.

"Never you mind about that," Marianne said firmly to Nefertina. The charioteer giggled despite herself. Marianne panicked again as she glanced at Sohkarra.

THE ROYAL GUARDROOM:

"Heera!" shouted Armon as he tossed the newest recruit. Vizier Tuthmosis watched with approval. Ten young men all ringed around the massive figure with the glittering arm. All anxiously waiting their chance to jump in the ring with him.

The latest recipient went flying into the padded linen cushions to one side of the chamber. Grunting he shook his head. Armon extended a hand to help the young man to his feet. Quite flabbergasted he took Armon's hand and allowed the Warrior to help him to his feet.

"Why... do you help me?"

"You are a good opponent," Armon smiled to him. With newfound respect the recruit bowed and backed away.

"Next!" Armon rumbled.

Another young buck readied himself, arms splayed wide. Armon took his characteristic opening stance, golden arm upraised with his other arm back. He squatted briefly on huge legs, his brown eyes locked into those of his new opponent.

"Begin!" shouted the Vizier.

The two combatants circled. This young fellow shivered in the pit of his stomach. How could he even hope to stand up against this bodyguard of the pharaoh himself?

"Come now, make a move"! Armon chuckled. "It's almost time for lunch!"

Making up his mind the young buck charged in a sudden shout. He connected with Armon's torso, actually knocking the breath out of the warrior. However, Armon grabbed him and pushed him away easily. Not deterred the man tried again, grabbing Armon's hand and trying to twist it for leverage.

Just then the trumpet sounded. Armon was so distracted the man easily pinioned him, and lifted with a grunt. Armon went flying. Quickly he corrected in mid air, to land on his feet at the rear of the opponent.

"No you don't!" gasped the youngster, rushing headlong to press his advantage. Already the others were rushing away to midday repast.

Armon seized his opponent by his kilt waistband and lifted the struggling warrior off his feet. "It is lunchtime," he said simply. "We will continue this later..."

"But... but..." cried the boy. "I was winning!"

"There is a time for fighting, and a time for eating! Come along now!" Armon said, setting him on his feet again. He shook a bit, then felt a hearty thump on his back from the golden arm, which took his breath away.

Armon sat down at table, and looked up to a surprise. "Mom!" he cried. For his mother was there, handing out the rations of the day for the training soldiers.

"How is my little boy doing?" she asked, pinching his cheek.

"I did not expect you here..." he smiled warmly. She set down the huge tray she carried, and passed its contents along to the hungry warriors.

"It was my turn to cook today," she said. "And I love nothing better than giving my baby boy a good hearty meal... you must keep your strength up you know..."

He blushed, "Aw Mom!" as she held up a large plate from the middle of the tray, and set it before him. "Is that all?"

"That's just for starters," she smiled. "I have something else special for you waiting in the kitchen..."

"But what will everyone else eat?" Armon asked her, chewing on a huge mouthful of elephant steak.

She clapped her hands, and other servants brought more trays to the hungry young recruits. They all drooled as they saw the large mounds of freshly baked bread and simmered onions. The large steaks were for all as well.

"You're the greatest..." he laughed, and pushed a gargantuan portion before his erstwhile opponents. The young man gasped as Armon motioned for him to tuck in.

She poured him a huge flagon of beer, which he drained in one drought. "I was talking with Tia the other day," she whispered to her son as he continued to eat. She served as she talked.

"Yeah? Is she okay?"

"She is well, but she seems so sad these days. I thought perhaps you might know, being here at the palace... is JaKal... all right?"

"He is sad," said Armon with a sigh. "For he misses our beloved Princess..."

"It will take time," Armon's mother said with a sigh. "Such a lovely young woman. But why should he miss the Princess so much? He was but her guardian."

"Mo-om," Armon protested.

"I do want grandchildren you know..." she teased him, stroking his cheek. "You must find some nice girl to marry you... and give you good cooking... to keep you fit and strong... to whom you can give many fine sons!"

Armon sighed at his mother's pestering. Fortunately for him the conversation was cut short as the trumpet sounded that lunch was over. The recruits bustled into order as they rushed out of the mess area. Armon was still left with his mother. He helped her to clear the trays, and carry the massive dishes into the kitchen. Secretly he was hoping for a snack.

Just then in the guardroom kitchen he spotted Kenna. The young charioteer had just come in from ferrying Rapses to his lesson with Rath. It had been another morning with JaKal. Silently the Hunter came into the guardroom-eating hall, blue eyes silent.

"Ah, we were just talking about you," Armon rumbled as he saw JaKal enter. "You almost missed some hippopotamus stew!"

"You must be starving," Armon's mother said, and urged the charioteer and captain of the royal guard to sit.

"But this is not the right place... we are in the kitchen," Kenna said.

"What nonsense! What does it matter as long as you have a good meal in your bellies! I won't let you say no!" she clicked her tongue. Armon set the food before his friends. JaKal sighed. It did look good, and the flagon of beer was just what his parched throat needed. He said not two words before he excused himself and wandered out of the kitchen.

"What's with him?" Kenna asked. "He's been like that ever since..."

Armon's mother and he exchanged glances. "It's a JaKal thing," Armon said, not wishing to say anything more on the subject.

Just then a few kitchen girls laughed as they brought in the rest of the trays from the garrison. Trays clattered in huge washbasins, the din drowning out Kenna's next statement.

"Now girls, order!" Armon's mother shouted, clapping her hands. Then a few of them squealed when they lay eyes on the two men in the kitchen.

"It's him! It's him he's here!" they cried, and rushed. Kenna rose to greet them ,but they all clustered around Armon. One poured him more beer while the others rubbed his shoulders and another started to sponge the sweat off his brow.

"Hey give a guy a chance to finish!" Armon laughed. "One at a time!"

One girl pulled his helmet off, and sponged his sweat-streaked hair with cold water, and oil. "You poor thing, fighting all day!" she cooed.

Another pulled off his sandals and plunged his feet into cool water. "Let me wash the dust from your feet, milord!" she giggled.

Kenna grinned to himself as he rose to leave. Rapses might need him yet again. Some guys had all the luck, he sighed as he looked at Armon and his groupies!

THE ROYAL GARDEN, a few minutes later:

Kenna had hoped to find Nefertina here. Out in the palace gardens. She appeared to be in a hurry as she rushed along. "Hey Neff!" he called. "Wait up!"

Nefertina didn't feel up to talking to him today. Not now. Something was bothering her as images spread across her mind. Sometimes she drove great speeds, and it took much time for her to get used to standing still. She thought this head-rush was caused by that reason at first.

The blackness swam before her gray eyes. She blinked as she hurried to Rath's laboratory. Maybe the scribe could help her. With a potion.

It seemed as if the room were spinning. In the space of a few seconds images crashed into her brain. Rushing chariots without horses, growling hungrily in hot smoke. She behind a circular fused reign, pressing her foot on a flat surface to coax more speed. The bright paint surrounding her as she sat not stood to drive the chariot. And the blurring lights that whirred by dizzied and excited her. Long hair streamed behind her long and free, for she could drive without fearing they'd know she was a woman!

How she loved it here in the tall glass mountains, tall as the Pyramids. Alive and crackling like a million sparks and stars winking. Dancing as she leapt out to rush into pounding pulsing throbs of dance halls. To hold the hands of young men who drooled over her beauty.

"Nefer!" he cried.

"It's Nefertina!" she said with annoyance at the latest man who grabbed her to dance.

She jolted as she realized where she was. The darkness of the dance hall alive with stroboscopic lights had grown into a soaring hypostate hall. Bright reds, blues and gold sang down from a starry vault in large papyrus bundle columns.

"Kenna?" she asked, a bit confused. "What are you doing here?"

They were almost to Rath's lab. "I wanted to talk to you!"

"Make it fast I'm in a hurry!"

"You're always in a hurry, you gotta slow down once in a while..."

"That's funny coming from you," she sighed. Still she resented the fact he drove the Great chariot, and not she!

"You've got a lot of nerve talking to me at all, after that stupid race," she grumbled. "What were you thinking?"

"I thought you wanted to race me," he said innocently. "Besides, you did win... rightfully."

"Thanks," she grumbled.

"But there was something else I wanted to ask you..."

"Later Kenna, later!" she waved him aside.

"But Nefer... Nefertina..." he said, putting himself between her and the door to Rath's lab. She could hear giggling coming from inside.

"Kenna, I have to fetch the Scribe. And I can't stop to chat... so... ciau already..."

He grabbed her arm. "Please... I don't know what you mean when you say 'Chow'... but it's always meaning you're going away..."

"Kenna please..."

"Nefer... why don't you talk to me anymore? Is it something I've said or done? Only yesterday and you only said a few words to me!"

Anger filled her. Anger that had waited a long time to surface, to be given words. "Kenna, everything's wrong! I'll tell you why I cannot talk to you... because you're doing what I want to do! Because... you are... what you are!"

"What?"

"I can't explain it..." said she. "Ever since you became the Great Charioteer... you've gotten this attitude!"

"What attitude?" he asked her.

"Like you're better than all the other chariot drivers.... just because of what you do! Like yesterday when you made that stupid crack when you saw me helping someone in need! If I didn't take the Priestess to help him, his daughter might have died! Think about that..."

"But we are Royal Charioteers," he protested. "You and I... we serve the great house of Amenhotep. We are not around to give rides to common folk! Any other charioteer in the city could have..."

"That's just it! You are a royal charioteer! The driver of the Great Chariot!"

"You're my best friend still, Nefer," he said.

"You aren't the same Kenna I knew..."

"Neither are you," he teased lightly. "And did I not say, that I wanted to know the woman.."

"But Kenna, you treat me differently, and I cannot know you like this... I... cannot change how I feel... I like you... but as a friend and comrade..."

"But I love you, like a brother loves a sister!"

"I know... but I can't be with you! Because every time I see you driving the Great Chariot it reminds me of what I once was, and I hate being second best the rest of my life... to a man! When I was once your equal and more... and to see you treat others as if they are less than nothing..."

"Nefer that's not fair!" he said, pounding the wall. "Don't you see I love you! I want to make you my wife!"

"No!" she said, as he seized her hand. "You may be the Great charioteer, but you have a great big ego t' go with it!"

"No?" he said, shock in his face. "That's your answer? I spoke for you! Put myself under the sword for you... doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"I didn't ask you to do that," she said dully. Her gray eyes flashed anger. "And don't think for a minute that I owe you anything, buster!"

"I don't... understand..." he said.

"My life is what it is," said she. "I want to drive, and if I was your wife you'd want me at home cooking and taking care of screaming brats! I'd never drive a chariot again! And I'm thanking Ra that I am allowed to still drive, because I'm a woman!"

"But you'd be happy... I wouldn't..."

"You would. Because that's what women are supposed to do," she growled. "And don't tell me you'd be different Kenna. I'm sorry, but the answer is no. Never..."

"Nefer..." he said, crushed. "You owe me..."

"Please don't ask me again!" she said, pushing back her anger and tears. "I owe you nothing! Not you or any other man! Now if you'll excuse me I have a duty to perform! Because I like my life as it is, what there is left of it!"

She left Kenna in the halls alone. With his thoughts and confusion.

RATH's CHAMBERS, at the PALACE:

Rath paced back and forth before the young Prince Rapses and Princess Sit-Hathor-Unet. Neither looked too interested in their lessons as of late. Rapses shared a glance with the Princess, causing her to break out in a fit of giggles.

"Obviously you have no further interest in the exports of Nubia, My prince," Rath sniffed, realizing that perhaps lessons had droned on rather long for today.

"Oh... really, I was listening..." Sit-Hathor-Unet said, popping up to attention.

"I'm sure you were," Rath muttered half to himself. "Well, that's enough for today. Run along and play, your highnesses!"

"Whatever you say, my dear Tutor!" the Princess cried out and the Prince smiled. "Race you!" the young princess cried to Rapses as they darted out of the laboratory. Rath drew in a sigh as he watched them leave. Just when he thought the Young Prince was taking a genuine interest in his lectures, a bit of the old boyishness surfaced to surprise him. He was painfully aware of the absence of one of his other beloved pupils, who would have rightfully been there as well. And so she was. But Rath was more than aware of the fact that the pupil he had in mind could not claim her true identity, and it pained him that it must be so. But she seemed to be handling it better of late. But he still could not fully understand why things must be this way. For a Princess to be robbed of her birthright in order to try to set something right that more than likely was not to be changed.

Rath sighed. Perhaps he would get a bit of something else done today. Quickly he gathered up the discarded papyrus and inkpots. Then he stepped thoughtfully into his laboratory. There was something he had on the tip of his mind, and wanted to get down before too much longer.

Before long he was totally steeped in his recitations of spells. Carefully, painstakingly he scratched down the forms in Hieratic as they whispered in his mind. He found himself humming gently. Then stopped himself when he realized what he was singing. A song he had not hummed since... since before...

He stopped and pushed the thought aside. Then returned, plunging deeper into the recitations with a vigorousness that surprised him. The Scribe composed his thoughts as the song vanished from his mind, a pale ghostly echo of the forgotten past. Yet his mind swirled with those glittering fantasies that were the future. Sometimes they danced just perceptibly out of his reach. Was it all just a long delusion? That he had died and awakened in the future, among tall spires of glass and horseless chariots. A voice in the back of his mind told him it must be so.

So wrapped up in this meditation was he that he did not notice soft footsteps padding on the floor behind him. He leaned over, fully engrossed in his brown study. Was it a dream or reality? All the things they'd experienced. The wonders yet to discover. If they really were trapped here... what if... what if? Those words spun with the images in his brain, drawing him further into inky blackness...

There was a sudden shout of "Aha!" that shattered the visions. He spun about to see a Priestess of Thoth standing in his lab, fiddling with some powders and potions. A strange sense of deja vu set in as he whirled about. She lifted her head as she met steely blue eyes with his emerald gaze. A smile spread over her face, and he felt hot blood rush to his face and other extremities of his body. She held up the powder, and tossed it up in the air with a gesture. Immediately there was a small flash of light that startled Marianne.

"Good Grief!" she exclaimed in an odd language. The sound of the language shattered his delusion. It was reality! For the woman before him was proof of its existence. Suddenly he was glad, no, overjoyed she had interrupted his mood. His heart began to pound as it always did in her presence. And he found himself coming to her side, and fussing over her.

"Er, Marianne!" he said. "I did not expect you here..."

"Rath, you never said you Msirians had gunpowder! Sulfur, carbon, potassium nitrate..." said she, in that same language that jangled at his Msirian ears. Rath shook his head as he examined her hands for burns, grabbing the silver dish as he clucked his tongue.

"You really must be careful young lady," he scolded automatically, brushing excess powder off her hands.

"Why? I am a chemist, dear!" she laughed right back in his face. Then they both stopped and their eyes locked. And a small redness came to her cheeks as she saw him looking at her intently. "What?"

"Do you realize... you were just now speaking in English?" he asked. "You must be careful..."

"So... were you..." she said, looking at him with those steely blue eyes he could easily lose himself in. Very gently his hand still held hers, softly brushing off now nonexistent powder. A creeping shiver shot over Marianne as his delicate touch ensued. "Er, Rath... my hands aren't... dirty... anymore..."

"So I gathered," he said, breath coming in small gasps as he tried to control his racing heart. He coughed nervously. And released her hands putting his own stiffly at his sides.

"Rath, I... had to come... I hope I wasn't interrupting anything..."

"You interrupt... why never," he snorted, with a slight laugh. That was really a nervous cough. In the palace he felt more restrained, as if many eyes of the painted figures looked down upon him. Indeed it felt as if they were being watched.

"Sometimes... I feel... as if I am losing myself," she said in a very quiet voice.

"What... do you mean?" he asked, still standing that blasted distance of five feet, which he slowly began to diminish to four and a half. He circled around her, warily.

"I look at myself in the mirror," said she. "And I know my mind is the same. That somewhere in this body is Marianne Ellis. Yet... my science becomes cloudy, as if a dream. Also sometimes I even forget the faces of my own family... and how to say certain phrases in English! It frightens me! What if I continue to forget! And lose my sense of self. It makes me insane... sometimes... what is wrong with me Rath?"

She closed the gap, and approached him. He gripped her arms and drew her to himself in a fierce hug, infusing her with his strength. It felt so good to hold her, but it tore his heart out to see her so distressed. Instantly he recollected the strange wanderings his mind took as of late. Perhaps it was a form of delusion, and she was suffering it as he was. "There is nothing wrong with you, my love," he said, seizing her chin between his hands. "Simply the fact that you continue to adjust to this new time, I imagine. Why, even I feel my mind wander from time to time, remembering the future as a dream. Yet I always wake. I sense that it is merely a phenomenon that should fade over time as you take on your new life... Even though your outward appearance may seem different, for you know who you are, as do I. And as long as you remember..."

"But... I don't know what's real anymore..." she said, tears in her eyes. "What if I cannot remember! What if I forget that I am Marianne Lindsay Ellis, scientist from the Future! A loyal subject of Queen Elizabeth II, and British! I'm so bloody relieved that I just now spoke in English with you!"

"Hush, now, no tears..." he scolded, brushing them away with his finger. Tenderly he caressed her cheek. "Are you not happy? I know it is not the future, but you have a full life here. You must be honest with me, my love... if there is anything I can do..."

"You four are the best friends I could imagine," she said. "But why am I still so sad... it's like there is an emptiness in my soul nothing can fill... as if... as if... oh it's rot! I know I cannot ever hope to go back... but still..."

"Oh Marianne," he said shaking his head, as his arms caught her up. The aching need in her mirrored his own. His lips met hers, as she held him close. That shiver came over him as her tongue slipped into his mouth. A giddiness rose in them both as they kissed each other hard. Rath lifted her off her feet he held her so close. Set himself take who might see them, he thought as the kiss deepened to its eventually conclusion. "Mm," he sighed deeply as he withdrew to breath. She still had her head bent backwards, eyes shut with complete contentment. "A kiss does not change its sweetness. You are very much the same woman I know and love," he continued, voice low and husky. "And you cannot deny that..."

Still she pressed close, as he held her up off her feet. It strained his back a bit to hold her there so, as he gently released her to rest on the ground he still kept both arms firmly around her. She gripped his shirtfront, as if he were the only solid thing. "Rath... I... couldn't bear... to be separated from you... and somehow... I needed to be here... with you... Oh lord I sound like I'm spouting rubbish... such sentimental twaddle..."

"Don't you say that for a moment, my dear," he said, as he held her close, kissing her deeply for another full minute. Infusing her with strength. Then at arm length he said, "I think I understand what ails you. You are afraid to let go. Afraid that you might actually loose hope of going back. That if you accept fully the life here you are somehow betraying your true essence..."

"How do you..."

"I know, my love. All too well. The same thoughts crossed my mind when I arrived in your time. That if I accepted the science of the twentieth century I was betraying my Msirian heritage. Now the reverse is true for you. You are so closely devoted to your Science, your country, and your religion, that it seems you would be turning you back on those things were you to accept fully that you could be happy here..."

"You know me too well," she sighed.

"Indeed," said he, raising one eyebrow. "In every sense of the word. And it is a very pleasant secret truth to be known..."

She flushed profusely at his implication. "Er, yes..." she coughed, and began to giggle. He shared her mirth, gently caressing her closely.

"Rath, isn't this... the royal palace?" she said, as the realization dawned on her.

"What of it?" he asked, as if it were of no consequence.

"Don't we need... a chaperone here..." she began before she felt his fingers running along her back. For a full minute she relaxed, letting the tenseness disappear. "Good grief... I must be wretchedly knotted... Oh, that's just the right spot.... ouch!"

"I must apologize," said he, a look of concern coming into his face at his probing fingers. "It was rather more vigorous then what you were anticipating, was it not..."

"You'd better believe it," she laughed, catching his meaning. She still felt stiff and sore in places she didn't knew existed. Rath by now held her very close, as she ran hands over his chest. Feeling the contours of his stomach through the linen shirt. Playing with the folds on his kilt as her hand slipped around to his left hip. They shared a laugh as his hands reached at the fastenings of her dress. Gently fingering the bare skin on her back.

"Er, that was a reflex," she said, stopping as she held up her hands. "I... don't... think..."

"You are not ashamed of what happened yesterday I trust," he said. "Not sorry that I er... we... Ahem..."

"Not for a moment," she said, pressing close to him. So close he ached to be within her again. That blasted lotus scent filled his nostrils, making him whine under his breath. Set curse him, it was too tempting. To offer her all the comfort he dared. But he had done it before here... and yet.

"I was fearing, you regretted... my actions... earlier," he said, as her hands stroked over his backside and thighs.

"Not at all," she said quietly, continuing to explore with her hand. "If I did I wouldn't be here now, would I? I never noticed before, but these kilts are not at all like a Scotsman's which fastens at both hips. As I had assumed before… and hmm… I was quite wrong. Under the left hip here…"

"Er… well," Rath responded, finding himself flushing hot as the sun burned sands.

"And you do have the cutest knees... I have privilege to see..."

"Erm... if you say so milady," he said, as her fingers played with the fastenings concealed beneath his sash. It was driving him crazy. Both of them were breathing very hard, as if ready to run a marathon. They both exchanged a look. She could swear he was grinning like a Cheshire cat, and she was fair near dying of nervous laughter. His hand stroked along her hip as he guided her along into a rather dark corner of the lab. Her nervous giggles as he lifted her onto the nearby table mingled with gentle hushing noises. And the soft sighs of contentment ensued as he sought to offer her full comfort. To expunge the emptiness both felt in their souls as they wrapped each other in their newfound love.

THE ROYAL GARDEN again:

JaKal sighed for a much different reason. Forlornly he oiled his bowstring as he often did. Then he checked the feathers on his arrows. They had to be perfect or else the missile would not fly true. Strange that in the future men no longer used bows save for sport. For the food came readily sealed in that strange flexible stuff Presley called plastic wrap.

They had just eaten lunch in the kitchen a rather casual common place. Yet he wouldn't miss Armon's mother's cooking for the world! It was physically nourishing, but sadly did not fill the emptiness he continued to feel inside. He could hardly stand to eat the lunch that Tia made daily for him. Often he'd give it to a stray beggar in the street, so guilt racked was he.

For her thoughts were no longer there in his mind. He missed them sorely. More than he realized he needed them there. As many times before he had come to the Garden, to be alone and think. JaKal always sought solitude when troubled.

He grumbled as he rubbed his forehead. The blasted images swam in his mind as they had for countless times before. Ever since they returned from the future, he was assaulted with momentary bouts of absentmindedness. They had become less and less frequent over time, yet still they plagued him. For a moment he was lost to them, before his hunter's discipline reasserted itself and yanked him back to the present.

"JaKal!" rumbled Armon's voice. "Hey pal didn't you hear me?"

"What?" he grumbled, relieved for the distraction. Armon was bidding farewell to one or two women who still kept their arms around his thick waist.

"I've gotta talk to him alone, gals," he rumbled to the two who still wished his company. Pouting they left with meek waves as he shoed them away.

"Armon, what..."

"The Vizier wants us to talk to him. Alone..." said Armon. "Now. I sent Neff to get Rath..."

"What of Soh... I mean Jamie?" he asked, checking the bowstring again. It was ready for whatever threat may come once more.

Armon noticed his mistake grimly. It wasn't fair that JaKal could not even call her by name. Nor could any of them for fear of discovery. But he was at least able to stay in touch with her when she came to him for her lessons in combat techniques. And she always maintained her same attitude toward him. It was something he had always admired about her for she had always treated everyone with the same good attitude, and he thought of her as the little sister he had never had. "Come on, we'll be late," he urged JaKal. For at least whatever the Vizier had to say would hopefully take JaKal's mind off his young love for a short while.

He joined Armon nearby at a fountain they all knew well, in the Palace gardens. It was a sort of secret Guardian's meeting place. Already Nefertina was present, her short white battle kilt and halter top indicating she still didn't fully accept whatever limitations being a woman would first imply. After all, she was still a charioteer, and dressed the part. Though she let her long brown hair hang over her tanned shoulders. She too was garbed as a guardian, having forsaken her dresses she wore at the palace. Armon noted how lovely she was as a woman. Nefertina appeared to need a listening ear.

Then at last Sohkarra came, shyly averting JaKal's gaze. Her thoughts were no longer within his mind, and the hurt in his eyes she could not bear. He sat opposite on the fountain's edge, putting as much space between himself and her as possible. The discretion did not go unnoticed by his friends. But she could feel the heat of his gaze. For she desired the same as himself.

"What is wrong Neff?" Armon asked the Charioteer as she sat down at the fountain's edge. That dull look shadowed her lovely gray eyes.

"Oh nothing... everything..." she grumbled. And crushed the lotus flower she held in her fist.

"Neff..." Armon said. "You're really mad, aren't you?"

"That's right. Mad, mad, and mad! Why does a woman have to get married anyway!" she suddenly asked a surprised Armon. "Why can't they just accept that some women want their freedom..."

"I do not know, Nefertina," he said, sitting next to his friend. "But I know that my mom's always asking me when I'm gonna get married. I cannot give her an answer..."

"That's right Armon," she said. "Because you like your life the way it is, right?"

He thought for a moment, then nodded. "Yes... but why are you talking about marriage? Did Kenna ask you..."

"That's right..."

"And you did not wish to?"

"That's also right," she said, folding her arms. A firm look on her young face.

"Why did you say no?" he asked.

"Oh great, for a moment I thought you understood me,"

"No, why?" he asked again. "Do you... like your life... as I like mine? Is that why you said no?"

"Armon, you hit it on the head..."

"What?" he asked.

"You're great sometimes," she smiled. Armon joined in, glad that in some way he had helped his friend feel better.

"I wish we could make JaKal happy," Armon said, wishing he could say something to make JaKal smile again. But he knew only one person held that key, and she was not going to use it until they were all free again.

IN the MAIN CORRIDOR:

Meanwhile Rath and Marianne exchanged massive giggles. She helped tie his sash back into place as he struggled with the fastenings on her collar. And both were doing this as they rushed along the hallway laden with bright paintings. They still carried the miscellaneous pieces of clothing that they struggled to dress each other with. Marianne held his henhet under her arm as he held his scribe's kit and a roll of papyrus. She struggled to finish braiding his ebon cascade neatly.

"Wait..." he cautioned, grabbing her arm. He pushed the kit into her hand. "Hold this for but a moment..."

They stopped beside the friezes of Thoth, and the doors to the Gardens. Taking out a small ornate jar from his scribe's kit he dipped a small brush into it. Still his silky braid hung over one shoulder. It was the same color as hers!

"That had better not be ink," she laughed, holding the scribe's kit for him.

"Hardly," he sniffed, as he renewed the kohl upon her face as if she were a masterpiece of art. When he was done he handed her the brush, indicating she should do much the same for him.

"You are crazy," she grinned, painting the kohl just as she knew he liked it. Then suddenly she grabbed him and raised a hand to his mouth, firmly rubbing it.

"What in the name of Thoth is wrong," he couldn't help but ask.

"It's just that I doubt you'd want to appear as if you'd smashed strawberries in your face," she smiled mischievously. For her lip makeup was smeared all over the bronzed skin. Slowly she put away the container of kohl into his kit once more. The long cedar box held his scribe's palate, brushes, and other things. It was about one cubit and a half in length, much like a modern pencil case. Of course he'd have that bloody kohl in there!

"Ptah, is it that obvious..." he wondered, then shook his head. "No matter..." he assured her, fingers making final adjustments to her mass of braids. He then coiled the braid about his own head as she placed the henhet in place.

"Are you... still sore?" he asked her. Gently his hands kneaded her shoulders, easing out the sudden stiffness.

"A bit. But... it's not as bad as last time..." she sighed deeply, a healthy glow on her tanned cheeks. She looked quite a bit better now that scared, vacant look was gone.

"Ah good! Pleased to know... that my efforts, were... well received."

"In fact... it feels marvelous..."

"Mm, it becomes easier... with time," he said, helping her to straighten her dress once more. Sweat glistened on her body as she wiped it off her brow.

They came to the entrance to the garden, almost tiptoeing. Marianne hid behind a nearby pillar, not wishing to enter, for it was guardians only at this meeting. Rath squeezed her hand once more before he came into the presence of the other Guardians.

"You took your time," JaKal said pointedly as Rath emerged.

"Erm, I was a bit occupied at the lab," he said, coughing as he sat between Armon and Nefertina. Sohkarra paid him no heed, for her face was fixed upon JaKal. The silent tension set everyone's nerves on edge. Even Rath felt a bit ill at ease. When those two were angry at each other, Sohkarra's telepathy broadcasted her discomfort in waves. Bad vibes, Presley would say. Rath took out his palate and readied himself in case there was anything important that had to be recorded at the meeting. He actually seated himself upon the floor cross-legged.

"So what is this all about?" asked Nefertina. "We're all in our places with bright shining faces... so what's the deal?" Even though she knew the situation with Sohkarra and JaKal; what with her closing her mind off from him. She had questioned her Princess about the wisdom of that particular move, but could understand the reasoning behind it.

"The Vizier wished to talk with us," said Armon simply. "We must wait till he comes..."

Rath caught himself humming under his breath again, and promptly excused himself. He appeared to be scribbling something odd in Hieratic as he waited impatiently.

"What makes you so cheerful?" JaKal grumbled at Rath.

"There's no need to get cranky!" Rath griped back. "Just because you're in a mood doesn't mean I must share it!"

"Some of us have little choice," JaKal snapped, gripping his bow tighter.

"Well, I ask you!" Rath retorted before shutting up. Both men saw their comrade Vizier Tuthmosis entering. Immediately the four stood up and bowed to him with respect.

"Do rise," he prompted them. "The Pharaoh regrets he cannot join us. So he has sent me to discuss on his behalf..."

"What is the concern?" asked Rath, diplomatically. He held the brush at the ready.

"As you know, Amenhotep has not been himself," the Vizier said. "And he has expressed concern that Rapses be as best prepared to take over as Pharaoh when he is gone..."

"Have we been remiss in our duty?" Rath asked.

"No. The Pharaoh is most pleased with your service as of late. But he wishes you to take extra care. Apparently the death of his daughter has affected him more than he thought. He has been most sad, and I fear that this has caused great threat to his majesty's health..."

Sohkarra looked away, for she knew the truth of the matter from her time with the 'Masters'. And she knew that even though her father did miss his 'daughter', it was indeed something else plaguing the monarch.

"That could well be," said Rath, poking the handle of his brush between his teeth. "And is this the latest word from his physicians?"

"Indeed," said the Vizier. "I don't wish this news to reach beyond the walls. But I was hoping that perhaps you of all the Guardians might know of some way of restoring the Pharaoh to full health. After all, your magic is among the best in Msir, and your healing prowess is well noted..."

"Er, my healing prowess..." Rath muttered. "I don't... quite follow you."

"Many have been brought to your home, and they have been cured quite well as of late," said Tuthmosis. "I speak of your student, Marianne, priestess of Thoth. It has been said that she breathes life into those drowned in the Nile, and that she never grows ill when she visits the plague victims. Surely she possesses great knowing. Either from your benefit or..." And he cast a side-glance at the younger, dark haired woman who stood slightly away from the others. The Queen's own right hand. She appeared to be trying to ignore him.

"What do you mean?" Armon asked.

"Yeah, Marianne might know something..." Nefertina said. "We should ask her..."

"Marianne, come here please," Rath called, and Marianne walked out into the garden. "WE need your help..."

"ER... what can I do?" she asked them, nervously sitting beside Rath.

"You have great knowing, and the stories of your healing powers have reached the royal Palace," vizier Tuthmosis said.

"Er, is that good or bad?" she wondered. A sharp look from the others stopped her, and she sobered immediately. "But even my powers might not help... what if I fail..."

"There is no harm in trying," JaKal said to her, as Rath sat on her other side.

"Please, do come and examine him," the Vizier said. "The Pharaoh would be most grateful for any assistance..."

Nervously Marianne regarded, at Rath's urging. "It will be all right," Rath whispered to her. "Just do your best..."

"Very well, I will help... but my powers... alone might not be enough. If I were to go with the physicians..."

"I might know of one other who could help," JaKal said quietly. "Jaime, come here please..." He knew he was treading on thin ice with bringing up the matter he had.

Sohkarra was not used to being ordered about by JaKal. But she came forwards to the Vizier regardless. "Can you help us, milady?" asked Tuthmosis. "What know you of this predicament."

"If it please sir, being the bodyguard of Her Highness, I have known from the Queen that the Pharaoh is ill. And I have knowledge that may be of assistance..."

"Do you?"

"There are those priests with knowing beyond our Court," said Rath. "Jaime... has some rapport with them before she became my student..." A telepathic buzzing from Sohkarra brought Rath up short on his explanation. That and a sharp look.

"Forgive him my lord, for he speaks from misinformation," said Sohkarra. "I have already..." she began, before shutting her mouth. Everyone stared at her, especially the vizier.

"What she means is that she has already guessed the outcome of what they may say," Marianne said. "But maybe if she were to come with me, to see the Great One, we might together be able to find the cause..."

"Then go with her, Lady Jaime. The Pharaoh will see you within the hour. He will be returning back from his seeing of his troops just about then. I will tell him of your coming..."

The Vizier bowed to them, and left. Sohkarra shot JaKal a sharp look as she went to go over to Marianne.

"Whatever was that for?" JaKal asked her, climbing to his sandaled feet.

"You might have asked before putting me in such a position," she burst out. "But did you? No!"

"What's wrong?" Nefertina asked her. By now all the guardians stood up, anticipating trouble as tempers came flaring full bore to the surface.

"I almost gave myself away there! And JaKal, you didn't help by revealing my connection... what if he found out about my dealings with the 'Masters'! It is a secret I have given and sacrificed much to keep!"

"You mean to tell me you cannot tell your precious secret to even help you own father?" JaKal stormed at her.

"The whole matter of the 'Masters' is something I will never reveal JaKal; not to you, Rath, or anyone else! I gave a solemn oath to they that taught me, and I'll not betray their faith. Just as you and Rath should not have gone to see them when I 'died'." she hissed back at him. "You of all people should know the importance of secrecy." This was a very pointed statement.

"What's the matter Princess?" Armon asked her. "He's only trying to help the Pharaoh!"

"You had no right making such a presumption! I have gone to them and they have said nothing can be done!" Sohkarra continued to storm at JaKal as if Armon had not spoken.

"You cannot mean to give up then!" JaKal broke in. "Surely your powers could do something... for in the future..."

"This isn't the future JaKal! Ra curse me I wish it was, but there's no good standing around wishing it were!" she practically screamed. "Why can't you admit it!"

"This isn't the place to discuss such things!" JaKal said a little more sharply then he would have liked. "Keep you voice down, for Horus' sake!"

"Don't use that head guardian tone of voice with me JaKal!" Sohkarra reminded him. "For whatever else seems to be, I'm still your Princess!"

"And I'm still…" JaKal started, but stopped as Armon interrupted.

"Hey, calm down here!" said Armon standing in between his Princess and leader. "Let's not lose our heads... can't we just talk this out..."

"JaKal, Sohkarra, I am surprised at your behavior," Rath cut in suddenly, assuming the Tutor mode. Automatically he dropped palate and brush by the fountain. "Is this seemly conduct in the court of Pharaoh? And coming from his own daughter and head guardian. Remember your places and who you are."

"You should ask about seemly conduct..." JaKal practically growled, glaring at Rath. "Is it seemly to sneak about the palace, and appear late at important meetings?"

"What are you insinuating, JaKal?" Rath asked, eyes narrowing. He appeared wary as his totem animal, ready to strike.

"Hey, easy now!" Armon said, ready to come between the two guardians. It seemed that more and more these days, he had to play peacemaker between his own friends and team. What was happening to them all?

Rath's hands rose in a gesturing position as if he were ready to cast a spell. JaKal had reached for his weapon instinctively.

"Guys, what in the name of Ra is going on?" Nefertina demanded. "Did we all miss something?"

"You think I don't suspect, do you?" JaKal asked Rath, his blue eyes cold. "I know you Rath. I know your past. WE all knew about your little... lateness to meetings... back then... did we not... concerning certain private business interfering with..."

"That is none of your business," Rath said, his voice lowering considerably in pitch. That low quiet challenge was present in the softly accented tenor voice.

Marianne had enough. She stormed between the two men, blocking Rath from JaKal. "If you have something to say, come out and say it, JaKal. Else leave your nose out of his personal affairs."

"He has not set a good example for you either, Priestess," JaKal cut her off. "And to think I trusted the safekeeping of our Princess to him."

"How dare you speak like this to each other, or to me for that matter!" she said, voice cold as ice. "He's your friend."

Marianne was speechless. She understood why Sohkarra had spoken so. But knew they had to get back to the business at hand. And as Sohkarra released her arm, she reminded the younger woman, "What good are we doing the Pharaoh arguing like this? We should be doing all we can to help him, not standing around pointing fingers about right and wrong conduct!" But she rubbed her arm where Sohkarra had gripped it. For she could tell it would be a little sore. She couldn't help but wonder if a bruise would result from it.

"She's right!" Armon put in, laying a hand on JaKal's arm. "What Rath or Marianne does on their own time is none of your business. As long as he is a Guardian, and it does not interfere... what harm is there?"

"Yeah, Lay off them, JaKal; and you too, your highness, ease up on Marianne. She's your friend." Nefertina put in, siding with Rath and Marianne. She looked at Rath like the brother she didn't have, and should have. "Just because your personal life's screwed up doesn't give you the right to spoil other peoples..."

"I wasn't a girl pretending to be a man!" JaKal shouted at her. "I am true to my nature, as you should have been."

"Hey, wait, I paid my mistake, JaKal!" she shouted back. "And I'm no longer Great Charioteer. And I'm damn miserable. Are you happy about that?"

"But you can be with he whom you love..." he said. "With Kenna.... you can be married..."

"Excuse me, but is that your business?" she spat back. "Why does everyone want to see me paired off with him? Doesn't it occur in your thick brain that I might have my own plans?"

"You should consider it," JaKal snapped back. "Marriage is a good thing for a woman! For she is taken care of..."

"It isn't good for you or Tia!" Nefertina spat, before she realized what she was saying.

"Enough!" Sohkarra cut in, hurling them all apart with her psychokinetic power. "That's more than enough! Marianne is right! My father may be dying and the last thing he needs is these stupid disputes. WE are guardians and we have our duties! You of all of us should remember that, JaKal!"

JaKal looked as if she'd stunned him. "But Sohkarra..."

"It's Jaime in the palace," she said coldly. "You would do best to remember that, Hunter. Ra knows I cannot escape it." He realized it was the closest she would come to admitting she actually missed him.

Armon and Nefertina glared daggers at Rath and JaKal. Nervously Marianne grabbed her dress, clenching her teeth. "I'm sorry you cannot be together with she whom you love," Marianne said to JaKal. "But what right do you have to act like this? Taking out your anger on your friends is not the way to solve your dispute. Leave Rath out of it!"

"But you and he..."

"I am not ashamed of what I do, JaKal," she said pointedly to him. "And neither should you be. I let you have your privacy, and you should let us have ours. Especially in company of friends. Our personal lives are our decisions alone. And we all live with the decisions we make, or don't make..."

"She is right," Armon said. "Let us not be divided. We are friends, and must stay so for the sake of Rapses..."

"I... am sorry," JaKal sighed, lowering his head to Rath. "I lost my head there..."

"It is quite all right," Rath said, lowering his head. "I... had no intention... of making things more painful for you my friend."

'Hey, why don't we all go somewhere and get something to eat! I'm starved. If there's one thing I miss about the future, it's those great Beefy Burgers and taverns... you always could count on them for a good time..."

"We must get ready to see the Pharaoh," Marianne said. "But there is no reason the rest of you cannot... enjoy yourselves. WE might yet figure it out..."

"I do know a place," JaKal murmured.

"I'll just reign up the horses and take us there in my chariot," Nefertina offered.

"Thanks Nefy," Armon smiled.

"Come along... fellow guardians. I wish you the best of luck, Marianne. And... Jaime... do forgive me... for my earlier actions..." JaKal said, as he make to follow them. But Armon and Nefertina sensed that they needed time alone.

"It is not your fault, JaKal," she said slowly, turning from him. And as she turned away from him, he for a brief moment felt her mind within his in an almost apologetic manner. She was apologizing in the only way she could now for what she felt was necessary.

Against her better judgement, she allowed JaKal to take her arm to lead her a short way from the others, out of their immediate sight. He then turned to her taking her by the shoulders.

"Are you going to lecture me now for letting my temper get away with me?" she asked, fully expecting one of those infamous hunter talks. But what he did say took her by surprise.

"There is something I must know Princess." He said in a low voice. She could see the urgency in his eyes and hear it in his tone. She didn't need to be a telepath to sense his pain.

"JaKal¼ ¼ " she started, averting her eyes from his face.

He put a hand under her chin to bring her face back to his. "What are you feeling?" he asked her quietly.

She contemplated her answer briefly before answering. She realized he would not let her leave until she did. And she would be truthful. "I want to be with you more than I can say." She started. "But in spite of the fact that we can not be together because this thing is bigger than both of us, please do not ever doubt my love for you. For it is the one thing in my life now that I'm completely sure of."

"So why do you close yourself off from me?" he asked.

"I do not wish to, but I must." She replied. "For both our sakes."

"But¼ ¼ ¼ " he started.

She put a finger to his lips to stop any further words. "I know your heart my love. And you don't need my thoughts within your mind distracting you from what you know you must do. But I am with you, in spite of it seeming different as you are ever with me." And she placed her other hand to her chest over her heart.

And JaKal removed her finger from his lips, but continued to hold her hand. "My strength and love are yours my young love."

"As my strength and love are yours." She replied. And before she could turn away to rejoin the others, JaKal grabbed her in his arms and gave her a sound kiss that relayed his emotions more surely than any words. And she returned that emotion in a rush that took them both by surprise. That fire she had spoken of to Marianne was in full bloom; within them both. But that line ..

And they pulled away with new understanding. For their gazes blazed with a mutual desire of one for the other as they held each other's eyes. They almost forgot where they were until they heard the discreet cough of Armon reminding them where they were and why.

"JaKal¼ ¼ ¼ .." Sohkarra started. "I¼ ¼ ."

Armon quickly took his friend by the arm and led him away. Then turned to Rath, who was gathering up his scribe's kit. Nefertina also lay a hand on her friend's arm before following. Rath gripped Marianne's hand firmly in a goodbye gesture, passing the kit to her before he joined them. Gently he left a kiss on her cheek as a last minute farewell.

"Ra be with you, my love," he whispered to her. "And the power of Isis be with you also my Princess." He told Sohkarra.

"I feel awful," Marianne then muttered to Sohkarra, all traces of attempted humor gone. "Somehow is some of this my fault? Because of what I did..." She didn't wish to be on the outs with Sohkarra. But she realized that the Princess was right. She had asked to come back with them, and now must deal with the reality. This was no longer merely a short trip into the past.

"No, Marianne," Sohkarra said dully. "JaKal is lashing out in anger. He did suspect that you... and Rath... were... together... and it make him insanely jealous. As it does me...I'm just not so vocal about it."

'Could have fooled me.' Marianne thought to herself, but thought better of voicing it. "I have no intention of rubbing things in your face..." Marianne said. "What I do is out of love..."

"It is his own shame he is struggling with, for he is battling his emotions, normally so under control. He loves me, but he still has feelings, and rightfully so, for the mother of his child." Sohkarra said, in a quiet voice. "For what I tell you now must not go beyond us."

"I trust you with my privacy, and you should feel I would never betray your trust..."

"JaKal¼ Well¼ .I have had thoughts of our being together..." she said, voice in a whisper as she drew Marianne behind one pillar. As if to hide shame.

"Oh Sohkarra, is that what's been eating you?" Marianne said, grasping her friend. Slowly she nodded, tears in her blue eyes. Marianne embraced her firmly as she began to cry.

"No, no, don't start," she said. "God knows it would be a sin in my society. But I know that it's been near impossible. Look at me and Rath. WE are not married, and already..."

"But he's a widower, and you're his fiancée! That's nothing compared to what I... and JaKal... at least its just you two being sneaky... and technically you could well be considered married since you stay at his home now! It's just a technicality that keeps you apart, and you dare to cross the line...But thus far, we have not crossed any lines, but the desires and fires are always there. And I'm not sure that I want to control the desires. For there is much I wish to know."

"So you do , just by being attracted to a married man." said Marianne. "There is no shame in love, but what you wish I cannot condone. But I will not condemn you for it. How can I when I know of your love for each other? You are each other's Ka! I have often wished the two of you could be together. I am your friend, and I am here for you. But I fear you must take responsibility for your actions. It's not for me to be judge of this. You are mature enough to take the consequences, whatever they may be."

"I... cannot help it, and nor can he," she sobbed, crying into Marianne's shoulder. "Ra curse me forever for this... but I cannot...stop myself from loving him."

"In my society it's considered a moral crime too. But more and more people are in unhappy marriages, and they often cheat to find what they seek is happiness. Rath and I have been influenced by my time as you and JaKal have. Living in the twentieth century has forever affected how you act and think. And you cannot remove it from yourselves no matter what."

"You are right," she said. "We have been 'polluted'."

"I wouldn't choose that particular word," Marianne said with a slight smile. "But you must take responsibility if you choose to try to be together. That is all I'm saying. Rath and I do. And so must you and JaKal, if this is the path you choose."

"I know," Sohkarra said. "And I appreciate your understanding. This is something I must face alone...And I know not how one goes about quenching the fire without actually committing the sin."

"You're never alone. And I have faith in the strength you carry within for even now we must join forces if we are to help your Father..."

"Let us go to him then," Sohkarra said. They turned to leave, just as the Vizier returned with his entourage. "We will go now..."

Hand in hand they followed, setting their faces grimly to the task ahead. United in resolve as in friendship. But Sohkarra did indeed know something of which she had disclosed to no one else.

Amenhotep lay upon a low couch, just up enough to see who entered. He wore the aafnet so closely connected with his office, and a long wrap covered him to his chest. For none could see his head uncovered, save perhaps family and closest friends. Marianne and Sohkarra were brought before him, and he bade them come close.

"Ah, it is good to see you here, Priestess," Amenhotep said. Marianne was still in awe whenever in his presence. She shivered nervously as Sohkarra urged her to come forwards. She herself did not immediately come close, for she always her father knew more about her than he would admit. Almost as if he knew it was her. Come back to him somehow. But she would be here for him, no matter what the outcome.

"My vizier has said that you have done great works in my land," he said to her. "And you breathe life into those that have lost it. Can you tell me what you make of this affliction?" he asked simply.

"Er, I will try, Great one. But you must be prepared to answer my questions I will ask. For... the nature of my magic requires these special answers..."

"Indeed I shall cooperate," he nodded. "Come forth.

"The first question I shall ask is this... have you lost your appetite recently?" Marianne asked.

"Indeed I have no desire for food or wine," he said. He did not stop to ask why she was asking such silly questions. Slowly she ran down the logical list, that she so long ago remembered her grandmother's doctor asking. Tentatively she realized what must be happening. Was it what she suspected? For Amenhotep had no smallpox sores or any other symptoms.

"Have you had this for a long time?"

"Indeed I grow... more tired, and my head fair splits," said he. "It is as if the gods have fought a battle inside my brow..."

"Oh, it must hurt... but for the next part of my diagnosis... I must... lay a hand on your royal person. Will you permit me to do this?"

"Indeed," he nodded, wincing in pain as he moved. Slowly her hands probed his chest and abdomen, feeling for any unusual sensation. There was a strange hardness in his lower belly that defied description. He winced in pain.

"My lord, it is what I fear," said she. "I will need... your full cooperation..."

"You... have a... growth inside of you, that must be removed," Marianne said to him.

"What do you mean, Priestess?" he asked, puzzled.

"There... is a monster inside your gullet," she said, trying to put it in terms he could understand. "It eats off your body, and must be taken out if you are to live..."

"Can you not do this now..."

"The ritual... is very... tricky," said she. "And... preparations must be made carefully... for the right stars... must be in... alignment... and the right forces... in balance... but it can be done..."

"Then I trust your judgement fair Priestess. You will prepare the necessary incantations and spells for this work," he said. "Pray tell my wizard of your need..."

"At once," Marianne said, backing away as she bowed to him, glad that Sohkarra had returned.

"I... suspect... he either has an inflamed appendix... or some sort of tumor. For his stomach was hard, and it didn't seem as if it were natural."

"Can you do anything? For I fear my powers cannot help if it is inside..."

"It would mean surgery... but under these conditions... and I have no idea of what to look for..." she moaned dizzily. "And no anesthetic... unless... do you have anything that would put him to sleep?"

"But of course," Sohkarra said. "There are special powders and sleep elixirs, that he priests take to dream with."

"Good. We must have those. And have your great Father ingest them. And I must have much boiling water and distilled wine. It will... be hard... and maybe if I could speak to one of your embalmers..."

"Rath has assisted at many a mummification," said Sohkarra. "But why?"

"I need Msirians who know what internal organs look like. Your embalmers would for they removed the viscera for mummification..."

"You will cut open my father and remove the diseased sort..." she said.

"I... will try, but it could kill him. But he may die if I don't take whatever it is out..."

"Then you must try!" Sohkarra said, "And my powers can guide your hand, even if they cannot help me to perform the actual deed. I will prove the 'Masters' wrong!"

THE ROYAL EMBALMERS COMPLEX, next morning:

The other wise men and physicians as well as the Queen Merit-Amun, who had been brought in upon of notification of the new ritual to be performed on her husband, listened intently as Marianne described this new "ritual." Some of them had indeed thought of a similar thing, to open the body to remove demonic forces. And some had even slit the bellies of birthing mothers to release a baby when she could not give birth the natural way. Others had even replaced broken bones with splints of bronze or copper. But few had actually opened the chest or abdomen save in times of mummification. But they knew how to make the cuts.

"It is my idea you will do this upon your Pharaoh," said he. "Not to prepare him for the afterlife, but to prepare him to continue his life here. It would be no different then extracting the organs... which you so well do..."

"But how do you know this is wrong?" asked one physician.

"The lady Marianne has great knowing," Rath said. "For she is blessed by Thoth of wisdom. Do you doubt her word?"

"No, but this is the Great one... to fail might mean death..."

"I believe she is right, and what have we to lose, if the Pharaoh is fated to die, this might stop his passing on... for we serve him till our own deaths..." Rath said.

"That is good reason. Therefore we have tried all. We shall indeed try this..."

"It will be done." Again spoke the voice that had stood by with the Queen through the whole ordeal, which was only beginning. The young dark haired woman who looked strangely familiar to the newest arrived physician, walked in. "The procedure will be performed on our great Pharaoh."

Something in the way she carried herself and spoke made the physician not want to challenge her. For there was something about her. Something very familiar.

Marianne watched as they prepared per her instructions. And at the nod of consent from the Queen, Amenhotep was fed a strange concoction of crushed poppies, a good sleep inducer. Many of the priests used this poultice to enter their vision states and trances. It was opium... for certain. And others would often use strange white powder to numb parts of their bodies that were in pain. Cocaine.

One of the head embalmers did not wear the headdress of Anubis, but rather the one of Horus, hoping his presence would insure life. Other images had been placed at intervals around the room at Rath's insistence. They had used the tables often used for mummification. Indeed the same instruments that would serve in death would serve in life. Nervously she instructed them to cover their mouths, insisting that their life force might interfere with his when they opened his body. With expert precision they performed the cuts, sponging away any blood. The room was kept pristine and clear, as every source of dirt eliminated. Once in a while she dabbed the distilled wine upon the edges of the cut to keep out "germs." Marianne did not do any of the actual cutting. But Sohkarra stood to one side, as if guarding over her beloved father, sensing the source of the diseased tissue. For psychically she could tell the diseased part of her own father's body for she shared a special bond with he who had sired her. And the discomfort he was not feeling at the moment due to the drugs communicated itself to her. But she would not allow the discomfort she felt to make her leave her father's side.

"There," she said as they exposed the strange mass of tissue the side of a grapefruit beneath the large intestine. "Does that look right to you?"

"Indeed it does not milady," said one of the embalmers she'd had help. "It does not seem as it would in death..."

"Then... it must be cut out. That is the source of the problem," said Marianne. Sohkarra, concentrating, agreed and gave Marianne a concurring nod. Marianne lay hands upon the knife as the embalmer's hand hesitated. "We shall share the responsibility should we fail. Bring the thread...."

Slowly the cut was made, and a hot piece of bronze used to cauterize the tissue to stop it from bleeding. As he cut, one other embalmer seared the ends, and Marianne herself passed curved needle and thread in its place to seal the ends. With a sharpened bit of bronze he cut. Till the strange diseased part was tossed into a clay jar, and taken to the fire to be burned. Then came the daunting task of moving everything back into place and sealing the wound. The embalmers did this quite well, and quickly stitched the wound back up. Then the area was sponged with wine and water. And wrapped in fresh white linen bandages.

"It is gone," Sohkarra said with a sigh of relief. Amenhotep would continue to sleep for another few hours. In spite of everyone's presence, Sohkarra bent down and gave her father a light kiss on the cheek. He was taken carefully to his grand sleep chamber, where more of the drug would be administered to stave the great pain he'd feel upon awakening.

Marianne was fair near shaking at the end. Rath and Sohkarra moved to her sides, helping her out of the mummification chamber. The smell of the embalming fluid was beginning to get to her. All the embalmers quickly nodded to her and bowed as the pharaoh was taken away.

Sohkarra then departed with the Queen in order to maintain the long vigil over father she knew would be forthcoming. And Rath and Marianne also departed for his home, for they both knew the Pharaoh was in the best of hands. They knew that Sohkarra would not leave her father's side until she was satisfied that all was well. Or she would summon them if they were needed, which they both prayed they would not be.

RATH's HOUSE, LATER THAT DAY:

Rath and Marianne finally had another moment together back in his study. Only then they had shared a bit of closeness she dared not think they could get away with again.

"You were quite exceptional, my love," he whispered, taking her into his arms. "And Sohkarra also performed most admirably. I'm most proud of both of you."

"I'm still shaking," she sighed. Marianne grinned as she felt him press closely against her and the nearby table. Somehow this steadied her, at least stopped her knees from quaking.

"And what was that about forgetting your modern science?" Rath gently teased her, as he fingered the side of her cheek gently. Marianne exhaled sharply with anticipation. Slowly he leaned her back in his one arm, cupping his hand at the side of her cheek. The green eyes softened into her steel blue ones. Nothing but sheer admiration was present.

Deliberately he inclined his head, and pressed lips to hers. Eagerly she yielded to his ministrations. For the space of five minutes he kissed away the shivering she still felt.

Only to jolt in his arms at the resulting sound at the door. "What is it..."

"Rath, JaKal was right... what if we were discovered..." she said, voice choked to a small whisper.

"Nothing has gone beyond these walls my love," he said, slipping a finger under her chin as he lifted it to kiss once more. Marianne's shivers came all over her body at the feel of his delicate fingers on her back. Ever so gently caressing near her hip.

Again there was a knock, punctuated by the words, "Master, forgive the intrusion!"

"Come back later," Rath sniffed, and both he and Marianne stifled their giggles. "I'm rather occupied at the moment... with important affairs..."

At this Marianne snorted as she struggled to stifle a guffaw. Laughing under his breath with her he quickly put a slender hand over her mouth. There was amusement rampant in his green eyes. "Oh, go away, man!" he repeated firmly, still sandwiching the Priestess between himself and the document table.

"I beg forgiveness, Master, but there is an urgent message from the Great One himself..." said the servant.

"Let him in," Marianne sighed. Some moments were just too good to last! Just when things were getting more interesting, this abrupt interruption drove her to madness!

Grumbling some rather ancient Msirian curses under his breath, Rath stormed over to the door. "I beg of your pardon, Great Scribe," said the servant, on his face as he shook.

"My good man, whatever is the matter?" Rath asked, a bit perplexed. Shaking the man handed him the scroll of papyrus. As Rath dismissed him, Marianne had a bad feeling wash over her. As his green eyes regarded the papyrus, she saw his olive skin go as pale as a Englishman's. As if he'd been stabbed, he put a hand to his chest. "Great Osiris," he breathed.

"Rath, what is it... what's wrong?" she asked, going to his side.

"The Pharaoh... is on his deathbed," said Rath faintly, as she supported him. And he thought of Sohkarra and how she would take another loss in her life.

"Dear Lord, no!" Marianne cried. "Amenhotep... is dying? After all that work? That's... not possible... unless not all the tissue was removed! I feared this..."

"He was quite ill. I must get Sohkarra. Perhaps with her healing powers she learned from the 'Masters', she will be able to do something. Perhaps you can do the procedure again..."

"Rath I did all I could! And as for Sohkarra, I'm sure she has not left his bedside if it is that bad." Marianne cried with a panicky look on her face. She too was turning white, as pale as she would have looked in the future! "Do you realize what this means? Rapses will become the next Pharaoh! Not Tuthmosis! History will be changed irrevocably!"

"That is the least of our worries," Rath breathed. "I... cannot fathom it! The Great One... dying!" Tears formed in his eyes, but he pushed them back as he shouted, "Summon a chariot! I will go to the Palace at once! Bring my cloak, and that of the lady Marianne!"

"The Great chariot awaits you!" the house steward said, rushing them out to where Kenna waited.

Together they clung to each other as the chariot raced towards the Palace. She never ceased to be amazed at the scale of the building as it loomed overhead. Already Nefertina and the others had gathered. In the main bedroom of the Pharaoh. Rath raced, dragging Marianne with him by her hand as she struggled to keep up with him. On a vast bed lay a prostrate form, the Pharaoh Amenhotep himself. And Sohkarra, heedless of her disguise, too, was at her father's bedside. For in spite of all her and the Marianne's best efforts, they could not save her father. If only the power had not failed her in not being able to successfully negotiate the illness that had felled him. The fates had spoken. And she had been powerless to stop it. The prediction of the 'Masters' had been proven correct after all! All her great teachings were for naught when she could not even help her own father!

Other physicians clustered around him, but they swarmed away in a white mass as they saw Rath approaching, Marianne in tow. "Forgive me, Oh Great one... that I was not at your side..." He looked so ill, Marianne thought. Like her grandma Stewart as she lay dying of cancer. And she had tried all she could remember. Yet such a thing could have literally eaten away at him for years. And all the surgery in the world could not save him, if the disease had spread to other cells of his body she did not see!

Balding and thin, he lifted a wasted hand to his Scribe. "Do not lay blame upon yourself, Scribe," said Amenhotep weakly.

"But I should have been here..." said Rath, dropping to one knee. Just then JaKal rushed in with Rapses and Vizier Tuthmosis. All three had blanched faces. JaKal's eyes immediately sought out Sohkarra. But she refused to look at him, so absorbed in her own grief was she. He had been informed of the attempt by she and Marianne, and the Pharaoh's physicians to take away the disease that had finally claimed him. He could read in her body language that she was blaming herself. Somehow he must reach her and not let her get bowed down in guilt.

Marianne knelt before the Pharaoh's bed, and gently glanced over him. "He... he's very cold," she whispered to Rath. "Just like my grandmother before she had late term cancer... Oh my Pharaoh I have failed you!"

"No, milady," he said. "I was told of your skill, and those who said your hand had sewed me together again. Yet they said... the demon had spread too far to remove any more. There was nothing to be done... it was the will of the Gods..."

Rapses pushed his way to his father's side. "My father," he cried, then stepped back a pace as he tried to retain decorum.

"My son," Amenhotep gasped. "At last I see you alive. It is not long before I join mighty Osiris..."

"No father... don't leave me," Rapses pleaded. "I am in need of your teachings to prepare me for my duties."

"My son, it is not seemly to beg me the privilege of joining mighty Osiris," Amenhotep scolded softly. "As for you duties, I have told you all I can. And you are not alone. For I have lived to see the day you will take my place... and the gods have granted this so. You are not alone... for there are many who will assist you in your glorious reign... as it will soon begin...including she who we thought was lost to us. She will be at your side."

"Father," Rapses said for he realized who he meant. "I will not... let you down...Your greatness will be remembered."

"Care for my son," Amenhotep bade Rath. "Great Scribe, always impart your wisdom. My Captain and Royal Hunter... watch over him as Horus himself. And Fighter... guard him well!"

"I shall," said JaKal and Armon as they kissed their Pharaoh's hand.

"And Charioteer Nefertina," he said to her. Nefertina flinched.

"Serve my son well..." he said. Kenna wondered what this meant.

"Lady Jaime, Queen's Right hand?" He called out softly.

"Yes... mighty one," Sohkarra said, going down on one knee as she kissed his hand.

"Guard my great wife, oh pretty one. Comfort her and grant her shelter..." He laboringly told her. "My... daughter." She had always sensed that he had known more than he let on. "Yes, I knew. And I'm very proud of you for the courage you have displayed. Isis herself smiles upon you. Use those great powers the great ones have bequeathed to safeguard your mother and protect your brother's reign."

"But Father..." she whispered to him. "Those same powers were useless in letting me help you. They are worth nothing."

He could not let go of life without telling her otherwise. "Sweet daughter, my time has come and naught could stop that. The 'Masters' knew this to be true and wanted to prepare you for what was to come. It now falls on you. Never abandon your use of your gifts, for you will have need of them in a time beyond us now." Even dying, his mind was still strong. As it would need to be to enable him to negotiate the underworld during his journey to his immortality.

"I shall... father, care for them as you yourself would." she whispered, so soft none could hear. "And I'll not forget their teachings." Then heedless of who watched, kissed his cheek and spoke softly in his ear. "I love you."

"Marianne, Priestess of Thoth..." he said, looking to Marianne as Sohkarra stepped back.

"What would you ask of me Great One?" she asked, flabbergasted he indicated her. "Dear God I am so sorry... It... was..."

"Nay priestess. I was far beyond even your mighty skills. If it is the will of the gods that I die, then I am to enter the next life. All I ask, is... that you teach my son well of your healing ways. Keep him in good health, for the works of your hands are well known in all of Doshret and Khemet, the lands of Msir. Do not be surprised, for I have heard tidings of your ventures into the cities. For this service you have honored my House. Protect my Great Wife, my son's mother.. in her times of sorrow.. And care for the heart of he whom carries your love. He will need your strength in the years of my Son's glorious reign."

"I... shall," said she, dropping to one knee. As Sohkarra did she kissed his hand. "Your Majesty. May your passage to the stars be swift... and blessed by Nut herself..".

"Well spoken," Rath muttered as he gripped her shoulder. Tears were in her blue eyes for the man she hardly knew. Yet had come to admire and respect.

"Great Vizier..." he said, extending a hand to Tuthmosis.

"Yes my lord?"

"Will you swear to educate my son, and assist him in his rule of this fair kingdom?"

"I swear upon my life it shall be as you say. He will have my full cooperation, and my full loyalty..."

"Until the course of due time, you are Regent," he said calmly. "To be at his side, his right hand."

"Yes my lord," said Tuthmosis, bowing deeply. There was no gleam of ambition. Only sorrow. The scribes tried their best to record his last words. Even Rath himself had his palate out, trying hard in Hieratic to record what was said. The death of Amenhotep was towards evening, as the sun set. Marianne stood at Rath's side, keeping watch. Then he breathed his last. Rapses wept, bowing his head as the hand of JaKal lay on his shoulder. On his other lay the hand of Tuthmosis. Gripping strongly.

"No!" Sohkarra sobbed, burying her head in her hands. Nefertina held her friend close.

Marianne gripped the dead Pharaoh's hand, and felt her own tears. "There is no warmth," she choked. "He has passed on. Oh dear God I failed..."

Unnoticed to all the others, she dropped to one knee and touched her forehead, then heart, left shoulder, and right shoulder to bring her hand over her heart again. None but those in her time knew the significance of such a gesture.

"He has joined Osiris," Rath said calmly, standing up. "It is time."

Amenhotep placed his hands on Ashake's face, lifted the Veil and kissed her in gratitude. Thoth led him towards the Hall of Life where Osiris and Isis waiting.

THE CITY OF THEBES, THAT NIGHT:

"Let him be taken for the great preparation," Vizier Tuthmosis said clearly in a low voice to all. "And may all Msir: the united lands of Doshret and Khemet and all its provinces, mourn his passing!"

They were grim faced as they rode in Nefertina's chariot. Before them Kenna drove Rapses and Tuthmosis in the Great Chariot. Rath and Marianne held onto the sides for dear life as Nefertina grimly whipped her horse on. In a litter to the rear of the procession rode the Queen, wailing loudly. Other minor wives rode in their own litters born on the shoulders of slaves. Sohkarra rode Kiya, her faithful horse, who could sense the unhappiness of her mistress. Armon and JaKal marched grimly alongside their Pharaoh's bier. The high priests bore it upon their shoulders. Rath stared resolute as his green eyes fixed upon the mortuary complex at Thebes. Here would begin the seventy-day process of mummification. Marianne realized she'd witness this process first hand. Every archaeologist's dream! Yet with heavy heart she recalled the price. She would never see England again! She felt her arm slip around his waist. He steadied her, and drew he to his side to lean back against him as the chariot rattled and bounced. "I'm so sorry," she whispered to him. "If only I had known before... I might have been able to remove more of the cancer! If only...."

"The balance of Maat," he sighed. "No my love. Do not think this your fault. For I fear this is the price she has exacted, to uphold the will of Pheres. That the Great One dies must have long ago fit into Pheres' plans and Maat's decrees...But who will be the next to pay?" It was a question he didn't want to contemplate now, for he feared he already knew the answer. But would she be prepared to handle it?

Later that night, JaKal found Sohkarra by the great pools outside the palace. Again he noticed how ethereal she looked in her loose net type gown and gold armbands. She seemed to communing with the Gods themselves. He could only wonder what she was hearing and from whom. He was concerned for her, for she had not uttered a sound since her single outburst upon her father's passing. He came to stand by her, but she seemed oblivious to him. It seemed that she was completely void of emotion. He couldn't possible fathom the emotional storm going on within her young body. "Are you all right my lady?" he asked. She didn't answer, but rather turned and walked out in the direction of her quarters. At first he merely watched her, and then ignoring his instincts, followed her. He must make her open up to him so he could help her shoulder her grief, and help with his own as well. He found her in her room, just staring at her reflection in the mirror.

"Sohkarra?" he said quietly as he came to stand behind her after fastening the door firmly shut behind him. It was the first time in a very long while that he had called her by her real name. But only after making sure there were no prying ears or eyes around prior to his entry. And before he could think better of it, he reached out and pulled her back against his chest. He then could feel what he could not hear, namely her silent pain. Her body was shaking ever so slightly as she silently vented her pain.

Without looking at him, or pulling away, she just said, "I failed him JaKal."

"Failed who, my young love?" he asked.

"My father." She answered. "I couldn't save him. Marianne and I could do nothing for him." And at that, the trembling in her body became more intense.

"Don't torture yourself my Princess." JaKal implored her. "You did all you could." And in trying to comfort her, he turned her in his arms and, looking into her tear-bright eyes, gave her a deep and soul-searching kiss. It was if he was trying to absorb her pain into himself.

When it was over, she pulled away slightly and looked directly at him. "You've never kissed me like that before."

"It is as a Pharaoh once told me about how fleeting life can be. And how we should not waste precious time." He explained to her. "Let me comfort you Sohkarra." Her name crossed his lips like a fine wine; and just as sweet.

She couldn't refuse. For she needed his strength. And she knew he needed hers as well. "As I will do for you, my heart's own mate." And they stayed together for the rest of the night, parting only when the sun came shining through, beckoning the beginning of another day and reminding them of the grim tasks that lay ahead. Many would need them both now. But both felt prepared to deal with whatever lay ahead, for they had shared strengths that would sustain both through the dark times to come.

RATH's MASTER BEDROOM:

"A few paltry months later," Marianne reminded him. "And he did see his son outlive him. That is... something...isn't it..."

Rath had no answer as he pulled her closer next to him for comfort. She doubted she could give him much now. Guilt welled up in her as she wiped her tears. Together they sat upon the master bed, fully clothed in misery. Rath put a hand to his head, and felt the ache within. All that concentration of the prayers of the day had taken its toll. As Court Wizard he was required to attend each stage of mummification. But he had a vested emotional interest in the Pharaoh. For he had given his whole life to the Great one. And now the Great One had passed on.

Still Marianne felt intense guilt. "All that scientific knowledge I have from the future was useless in this case," she sighed, looking away as she leaned her head on his chest. Both their legs were stretched out before them on the linen covers. Both sets of sandals lay long discarded on the floor. Even his tall henhet, symbol of his exalted rank stood on a stand nearby. They could have sat downstairs in his sitting room, but it seemed as if he required the safety and security of his own private room.

"Marianne," he sighed, looking out at the balcony window at the setting rays of Ra.

"I wish I had been a doctor, I might have helped! But I'm only a blasted forensic chemist! I can study why someone dies, but not how to cure!"

"Marianne," he repeated, stroking her pomaded hair. "Please... it would have made no difference had I been there or not. For did you not tell me that cancer grew for a long time undetected... and it has no cure in your time?"

"Not at that advanced stage. But had I known I might have been able to find a cure to stop it quickly... not just hack out the diseased tissue. I didn't know how advanced it was!"

"Even in our respective times death takes its toll," said Rath somberly, wiping away a tear. "And he is alive in the Afterlife..."

"Death," Marianne muttered. Then it hit her. History. The inevitable pattern of things to come was dictated by trends beyond anyone's control. Especially if this goddess Pheres had anything to do with upholding history. It was perhaps her way of ensuring humans would not destroy themselves tampering in time. "Rath," she whispered, looking up at him. She saw him in profile, silhouetted against the setting rays of crimson. That long ebon braid hung down his back, wending its way down like a river of midnight.

How handsome he looked, despite his drawn features from lack of sleep. "Somehow perhaps... he might have been fated to die..." she said to him. "Especially if your goddess Pheres wanted it to be so. Maybe... we can only change little pieces of history. I have read my share of time travel novels... and all of them say that history altering has serious consequences. Maybe this is history's way of adjusting to the change. Someone had to die... Sohkarra, and Amenhotep. But Amenhotep did see his son outlive him now that we have come. So... we didn't fail, did we?"

"No my love... since you put it that way, we did not..." Rath pondered, scratching his chin. He had not considered this. Little changes were possible. But would Menne and Tuthmosis cease to exist because of their actions and Amenhotep's wish from the future? Perhaps not if Maat and Pheres had any say, which they seemed to have more of then Osiris or Isis.

"I... perhaps should go now..." she said to him, rising from the bed. "After all, this is your room... and it would not do for an unmarried priestess to be caught with His Majesty's Principle Scribe..."

"I doubt very much from everyone's present state of mind that they would notice you being here or there," Rath sighed heavily.

"Do you wish I would go or stay..." she asked him, undecided. Yet his hand gently took her arm, pulling her to sit back on the master bed beside him.

"Your presence brings me great comfort..." he said to her softly, turning her chin to face his.

"That... is sweet," said she. "But I'm just as miserable as you are! What comfort could I possibly bring..."

"That you are here at my side," he said, holding her close. "Do not feel... shamed to stay here. It is innocent grief we share... and that is worth the price of idle gossip... for we know the truth..." To punctuate his assurance, he bestowed a small kiss to her forehead. She in turn gave him a little kiss to both his cheeks. Neither felt the need for large rapturous emotional displays in their sorrow. And they remained together laying on the master bed, simply holding each other as the night passed. Till Marianne fell fast asleep in his arms. With great care he slipped the covers over her before dropping into troubled sleep himself.

THE PALACE STABLES:

Nefertina wandered about the stables, which were silent. She had just unhitched her horses for the night. As she came back to collect the rest of her reigns, she saw a bouquet of lotus flowers resting upon her chariot's rim. "Oh no," she moaned to herself. "Not now..."

As she held them in her hand she noticed the small tightly wrapped papyrus. She unrolled it, realizing the hand of a street scribe did it. Anyone who wished to have something written could give it to a street scribe who would gladly accept a fee to write what was bidden him.

She could read, for Rath had taught her long ago. When she was taking Rapses to lessons. Ashake had insisted that Nefertina sit in on these lessons. She soon learned the readings for the basic forms. And how to write her own name.

"Ashake," she muttered. "At least you'd understand why I'd not marry... I miss your wisdom, and your laughter..."

Her mind thought back to that day she was discovered. How this woman had held her close and eased her pain. And embraced her as a fellow woman and friend. Only Sohkarra had been so kind before.

Unrolling the parchment she saw the note inscribed. It was sure enough from Kenna. Pleading his case yet again as he had before. Courting her, a woman who would not be courted. Bidding her to meet him in the palace gardens. Crumpling the scroll in her hands she hurled it at the piles of horse dung.

"No, I can't!" she sobbed, finally breaking down. Only the horses saw her cry.

And Armon. He had come to find his friend, seeing her rush off after the chariots had returned to the palace. After she had taken Rath and Marianne home.

"Neff, are you here?" he asked.

"Go away..." she said, before she realized it wasn't Kenna. He was probably waiting for her in the gardens.

"It's me... Armon... are you okay?"

"Do I look okay?" she snapped, rounding on him. The warrior stood there resolute, his golden arm gleaming in the moonlight.

"You do not. And you look hungry. My mother sent you food with me... she wants you to come and stay among us..."

"Oh I'm sorry," she sighed, going to him and looking at the basket of food he carried. Fresh barley loaves and fish with a flask of beer. Thinking momentarily she took the lotus bouquet.

"What is that?"

"Take this to your mother for me. I'm gonna stay here a little while..."

"Nefertina," he said, taking her hand. "Please don't stay all alone. Come home with me and eat something. Sit among friends..."

"I will Armon. There's something I gotta do first. But thanks for the food..."

"Nefertina... he was pleased with you..."

"Who?"

"The Pharaoh," he said. "He did think you the best charioteer..."

"How do you know?" she demanded.

"He called you great Charioteer did he not?" he said. "And the General, I mean the Vizier said he wanted you to be as you were before..."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Prince Rapses wants you to be his Charioteer, and drive the Chariot of the sun. I heard him and Tuthmosis the great Vizier talking... it was Amenhotep's idea..."

"What?"

"We will be waiting," said Armon slowly as he left her alone with her thoughts.

END of PART 4!