Cursed Times - Only Yesterday! Sequel to Wattys 2015 winner!

Chapter 62: Trueth - Blessed Part 1

End of last Chapter:

Forgive me, my love, Seisi thought as he forced his tormented muscles to obey him one last time and hurled himself into the path of that last missive of evil.

He felt pain stabbing into his abdomen as hungry magic ripped into his body, felt himself crashing into the floor; smelt incense, blood and the last whiff of her perfume before the ringing in his ears became the beating of the wings of his ba as it took flight to leave his body.

Then there was nothing.

***

'We are losing him!' Trueth heard somebody scream. It might have been her.

The high priestess of Selket was kneeling on the temple floor, bent over Seisi's broken body, her hands frantically spelling wards above his belly to staunch the fluids seeping from the terrible wound. Helpers were darting around her like a school of startled fish. From behind, Selket's priestesses and the healers of Thoth were chanting fervently. As if that chorus of doom could save the one life that really mattered.

'Let me help him, ' Trueth strained against Metjen's arms as he kept her away from her lover. Desperately, she pounded his chest with her fists, but he held her tight.

'You—can't. You're exhausted. Trust Bent-Anta, she'll do her best.'

Trueth had depleted her talents to save the world and had nothing left to cure her Seisi. The chanting ceased, and the high priestess slowly rose from the floor. Trueth wanted to hide. She had nowhere to run, to so she clung on to Metjen.

'I have done what I could. Now his life is in the hands of the Gods,' the high priestess said. Trueth knew this expression only too well. She had heard it before when the old priest Eje's heart had finally given up. It was a polite way of saying somebody was dying.

Not somebody. Seisi.

It could not be true. He had not even said goodbye.

Trueth wanted to throw herself over the savaged body of her lover, tear out her hair and wail like all the women in ancient Egypt did when bemoaning the dead. Seisi was not dead yet. If she gave in to her feelings, she would only hurt him more. She wished she could cry. But the tears would not come.

The fight went out of her. Metjen stroked her hair and held her close.

'Would he have lived if I had taken the Blessing?' Trueth mumbled into Metjen's shoulder.

'Then we might have lost the battle. You are who you are, and it's good that way.' Metjen sighed as if he did not believe in his words.

Sudden hope surged through her body with a flash. Once more, Trueth struggled against Metjen and, this time, he released her.

'What?' He asked.

Trueth ignored him and faced Selket's first prophet. 'About that Blessing. I could take it now?' Her hope would have soared higher had doubts not held it down.

Pity surfaced on the stern face of the high-priestess. 'No child, you cannot. It takes weeks of preparation. Your man will not be there for you.'

The words echoed weirdly in Trueth's mind, and Bent-Anta's face blurred as she seemed to float backwards into a dark tunnel... .

'One moment. I think we might all be forgetting something.' Metjen said. Trueth did not want to listen to him. There was no point. All was lost, and the world she and Seisi had battled so hard to save had suddenly become a very dark place. Still she stopped on the brink of desperation and listened.