Through the Sands of Time

Through the Sands of Time
By: K. C. Hulsman
Part 1
6/23/03

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The distance between the Pharaoh’s pe ane and the
temple complex of Memphis was fortunately short enough
that Menmaatre had been able to use a horse for the
journey. He had ridden through the night, using his
own powers to enable night vision as good as morning
light to him and his mount.

He arrived at the temple of Sekhmet, a few hours after
the morning rituals to the Goddess. His horse
exhausted and coated with mud made from the mingling
of the road’s dust and its sweat.

A younger neophyte looked up and came to him. “Where
is the Priestess Mkitiris, at this hour?”

The neophyte looked up to the sky, assessing the time
by the progress of the sun. “She will most likely be
training the more advanced students and dealing with
the more difficult healing cases, sir. I would offer
to help you find her-”

“But your post is to direct those that come here to
where they should go, and to assess the needs of any
who come him ill or injured. I can find her myself.”
He spared a brief smile to the boy, who still had his
hair and was not yet fully initiated into service. “If
you will tend to my mount, I will find her myself.”

The boy nodded. “I can do that.” He took the reins
from him as he dismounted, leading the horse over to a
basin of water, as he got some linen and began working
on cleaning up the horses muddy flank.

As he neared the temple complex he removed his
sandals, as he began to search for his friend in
exile.

His eyes noted the dazzle of sunlight glinting off of
gold at the edge of his periphery vision. He turned
his head, eyes drawn like a moth to flame at the
vision before him. His eyes could see the gold and
green sparked healing energy that burned through the
crown of her head and out through her focused hands as
she utilized her abilities with sekhem on a patient,
more advanced students observing her at work.

The amount of power she could handle and direct was
indeed impressive, it superceded his abilities
considerably. She glowed and sparkled with the
energies of life, with the very essence of Sekhmet.

*Her exile may have been for the best after all. Her
abilities have increased tremendously.* The thoughts
were at best a reassuring self-gesture, for he had
felt guilty over her exile.

The flow of energy trickled off until it pooled deep
in quiet rest within her. She smiled at the patient
and spoke between him and the students, before she
glanced up and saw him, grinning broadly.

She placed the patient in the hands of her students,
and left them running forward barefoot regardless of
scorpions and snakes. No priest or priestess of
Sekhmet ever feared from being bitten from either
creature in the sanctified halls and surroundings of
any of the Goddesses’ temples.

Menmaatre did not realize until the knot began to
uncoil in his stomach how much he had been dreading
this encounter and her reaction. She had every right
to be angry with him, but he was greeted with her
smile, her very lovely smile that seemed to offer and
just contain the very essence of the Nile itself.

“Menmaatre!” She greeted him, wrapping him in her arms
in a warm embrace, before she stepped back to look at
him, her hands braced on his arms. “I am glad to see
you, but I can tell by your countenance that only
troubles bring you here. Come, let us retire.”

She led him off into a cool chamber that overlooked
the water and was gifted with a fortunate breeze.
Gauzy drapes filtered and softened the fierce sunlight
into something far gentler on the eyes. She led him to
a stool, and poured him a cup of cool clear water, as
she also offered him both bread and a bowl of figs.

He moved to speak, but she raised a gold adorned hand
too quiet him. “Drink and eat first, for you are weary
and need your strength.”

He sighed enjoying the hospitality and the
refreshments, feeling her assessing gaze upon him. He
was surprised to feel her come near him as he neared
the completion of his meal. She placed her hands over
his head and heart, the in-rush of energy leaving him
gasping for air as his eyes flew open in surprise
before sliding shut again in trust.

“Matters must be truly grave for a fellow priest with
skills as you have with sekhem to be so neglectful of
yourself.” Her voice was as soothing as water that
lapped at the shore rustling rushes and papyri plants.


“It is why I have come. I am too thinly stretched, to
keep up with simple daily practices such as using
sekhem on myself to keep me healthy.”

“I can see that,” her lips twisted a bit wryly with
the words, even though her tone was serious and a
touch scolding. “Healer, heal thyself.” She murmured.

Menmaatre flushed a bit with shame. “Exactly, so.”
As the burning energy that tingled along her hands
subsisted she moved away, taking up a stool of her
own. “I doubt you came here merely for an energy
boost.”

He bowed his newly shaven head. “I have come to take
you back.”

She regarded him with some surprise. “But I am here at
the Pharaoh’s command.”

He nodded, “And by his command, I am here to take you
back.”

The surprised inhalation that hissed through her teeth
was like a snake disturbed. “Things truly must be
bad.”

“Nomti is seriously injured. ‘Tis a miracle he did not
perish in the last duel. I have too many things to do
as priest, as High Priest, as vizier, duelist,
healer... for me to be able to function properly
anymore.”

She regarded him through kind azure eyes. “You have
changed much these last years. You are no longer as
prideful as you were, though I would have preferred to
have seen such a change wrought over less trying
circumstances.” Her fingers were soft and reassuring
against his arm.

He chuckled at his own expense. “Anything less, and I
fear I would still be as stubborn. It still amazes me
Ibenre would have trusted me.”

Her eyes took on a slightly wistful expression, “His
name means Heart of Re, and he does have an uncanny
ability at beible ble to read other’s hearts.”

He flushed, feeling embarrassed, but Mkitiris was kind
in her own way, and changed the subject for his sake.
“I can be ready to leave by nightfall. I must arrange
matters for my absence first.”

He nodded standing to return to the palace. He was
already turning away when he felt her hand upon his
elbow.

“You are not going anywhere save to bed.” She steered
him toward her own basic cot, and pointed a finger at
him. “You are weary, and you must have left in the
night to arrive now, I’m sure your mount needs to
recover as well. I will wake you when I am ready to
depart.” She crossed her arms under her breasts in a
gesture that bespoke no argument.

“Ah… but the commandments-"

“Will be stretched a bit. These are unusual times, and
the Goddess knows I have broken no rites of purity or
my chastity while in temple service. Your rest is for
the good of Egypt. I have Sekhmet and Ma’at behind me,
anyone who would challenge me and my service to the
Goddess, I say let them come.”

He shook his head, her childish stubbornness had not
changed, and in a way he was glad. For that was what
he had first loved about her, that wild desert
determination.

He sank into the bed made of soft white linen, as she
maneuvered the curtains to fall around the bed for
both privacy and to block out more of the late morning
light.

He was surprised at how drowsy he soon became, and if
he were more coherent he would have wondered at what
trick she had pulled to make him fall asleep even
before his head touched the pillow.

He sighed at the soft brush of fingers against his
cheek, for a moment lost in a pleasant dream, before
his eyes opened and he tried to place where he was. He
glanced over his shoulder to see her silhouetted in
burnished alpenglow as the sunset sank behind her.

“Did you have a pleasant dream, Men?”

He stretched and sat up in her bed, lips curling in
ppleasure at the nickname he had not realized he had
missed until this moment. “I had a pleasant rest.”
*The dream, was all of your making,* he mused to
himself.

She smiled. “Good, for you needed it. I have arranged
things for my absence, and have packed. I am ready to
go after you eat.”

He shook his head. “I can eat as we ride, I’ve wasted
too much time already, and I do not want to leave
things for too long.”She She nodded. “Very well, as long as you promise to
eat.”

He laughed. “Are you now my little mother?”

She thunked his forehead with her finger. “If you’re
like this, then you probably need it, and Ibenre
probably is in more desperate need of someone to tell
him to go to bed, and make him.”

Menmaatre’s lips twisted in a sardonic grin. “Are you
going to spank him like a bad little boy, mother?”

She rolled her eyes in exasperation chunking a loaf of
bread at his head. “You are as incorrigible as ever.”

He only smirked thinking she was lovely when her
passions were aroused.


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to be continued