No place for peace

Chapter 14 - Nefer-ra

Sf-Bdt 4th.

The snake slithered closer, its slimy body long and broad as the Nile, easily capable of containing a human. There was hunger in its yellow eyes, the hunger of a merciless predator.

The sand crunched under my sandals, the sun boiling me alive. There were no snakes in sight.

It kept coming closer and closer, its evil eyes locked on him, its prey. It kept pushing its two pronged tongue out of its mouth, then pulling it back, in and out, in and out. It was hissing, hissing, hissing, its tongue red as the blood the snake's teeth would soon shed.

Then, without a warning, the snake attacked, lunging towards him.

A child screamed.

"Mommyyyy!"

I shivered, pushing the images away. There were no snakes in sight.

It had been eight days since Osahar's birth and I had finally healed enough to be able to go to the temple and so I had packed my basket just as full of lush gifts as my heart was full of gratitude. But by the time I was heading back home, it wasn't only my basket that had been emptied at the temple. My heart had been as well.

I had gone to the temple to give thanks to the gods, especially Hathor, for granting me a healthy and beautiful son and a good birth. I had gone there with great gratitude and joy in my heart, eager to step foot on holy ground and bring my gifts to the goddess of fertility and love who had been such a good friend to me. But once I had left the temple, my heart had been full of agony and questions. Why did you let this happen Hathor? I thought you were my friend! Why did you let everything go so wrong?

Now tears glistened in my eyes, blurring my vision so that I didn't even see all the people walking past. Tear after tear formed until my eyes were overflowing with them, just as the Nile was overflowing with water when it flooded every year. And just as the waters of the Nile would eventually spill over the river's banks, spreading across the surrounding lands, soiling them, so also my eyes flooded, the tears spilling over, rolling down my cheeks, dropping down my nose and chin and wetting everything on their way. Tears, bitter tears.

Why didn't anyone tell me?

I felt like I wanted to scream, to yell at everyone and everything. Maybe I really should go whack the temple gods with reeds.

Why didn't anyone tell me?

I tormented myself with the thoughts of what ifs. If only I had known, I could've fought against this, prevented this from happening, I could've forced myself to hold him in for a bit longer or push him out a little faster. I could've saved him from this. If only I had known.

But I hadn't known, for no one had told me, not even afterwards. Maybe they didn't know. Maybe they didn't realize either. But I knew they had known. Perhaps not during the birth, but afterwards. It was clear from all their pitying glances, glances which I hadn't understood then. It was clear from the smug smile that had appeared on Mit-aten's face at some point during these eight days, a smile I hadn't understood then. I did now.

Osahar had been born on an unlucky day and, if the prophecy of those born on that day would become fulfilled, would die by a snake.

Walking past the palace guards and their pitying glances I wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand and sniffed. How am I to ever come to terms with this? How am I to cope?

Does Atekhramun know?

I leaped up the stairs, several at a time. I just wanted to curl into his strong arms, to be cradled by my husband. I wanted him to caress my hair and to reassure me that everything would be fine, that he would protect us from snakes and all other dangerous, evil things. I was also in a rush to see my baby son, to hold him close and know that he was safe.