“I would expect a prophet to have more care for portents,” the youngest said.
“I have learned not to borrow too many troubles from the future, because the present’s troubles are often more than sufficient,” Faraj sighed. Irfan must have read something in his expression or his posture; it had not been ten minutes, but theqiyanbegan playing one of the more structured melodies on oud and drum, one that could repeat as many times as it was needed. “And speaking of order among those who are mine, I perceive my cue. May you find pleasure in the music and delectation in your meal.”
He kept his steps measured and his hands still until he was certain he’d crossed out of view of the gathering, and then braced both hands on the cool marble for a moment’s respite.Hadil was quietly directing a flurry ofkhadimunawith hand-signs and near-silent murmurs; she’d laid a scarlet ribbon across the preparation table to delineate which of the bowls Faraj was to pray over, but she stepped back to allow him room to touch each bowl and platter in turn, to ensure that any particular mischief or meddling would call to his foresight. The soup cauldron was hot enough to sting his fingertips; he pressed his hand against the cool marble again, looking around, because nothing here spoke of danger, and yet someone was distinctly troubled.
Hadil flicked her fingertips in the corner of his vision; when he glanced over, she crooked her arm to mimic the shape of the hall, and tapped just past her elbow. He peered around the corner, and saw a small white-robed figure huddled on the floor, shoulders hitching.
Faraj couldn’t move with Kamil’s utter silence, but he softened his footsteps as he crept down the hall. He cleared his throat gently. A youngkhadimlooked up at him with a tear-streaked face, and then squeaked and prostrated herself at Faraj’s feet, her jasmine-twined braid tumbling forward to huddle in its own apologetic droop. Although the hall was shadowed, he thought he recognized the same one who had admired Anuket’s generously-shared attributes.
Lifting her by the shoulders, Faraj asked softly, “What troubles you, little blossom?”
It was difficult to make out some of the words between her hushed whispers and her hiccuping tears, but the difficulty seemed to have something to do with trading positions with a peer, who now would not tradebacknow that the Cobra-Priestess had taken up residence by the brazier.
Sniffling, she managed, “I… I wanted to serve the cat-priestesses, not… not… —She could haveeaten you,your Highness!”
“Oh, I would make too large a mouthful even for a cobra-priestess,” Faraj assured her. “Would you do me the great favor of serving those at my seat, in my stead? I confess I am far too easily moved by Hathor’s High Priestess and her allies, you see.”
“The High Priest of Menas isshameless, isn’t he,” she agreed, rubbing her cheeks.
“Quite so. And in the inverse, I am not theleasttempted to sin by the fear of envenoming. Far safer all round if we trade.”
“Safer?”she asked, just as tartly as Elias had.
With a faint sigh, he confessed, “I would like to ease your fears, little blossom. And many of these august dignitaries do take pleasure in toying with their prey, Anuket and Neferkamin not least among them. They simply toy with us more charmingly.”
“But…” She wavered for a moment, then asked, “You don’t mind? His Eminence won’t mind?”
“All of us will be happier with your smile and your confident step,” Faraj assured her. “Save perhaps the Cobra-Priestess, whose hopes to frighten us I do intend to disappoint.”
“As you say, your Highness,” she replied, squaring her shoulders as she followed him back to Hadil’s preparation table.
When Irfan leaned far enough to glance around the corner to see whether the musicians needed to repeat another refrain, Hadil flashed him an all-clear gesture. Each of thekhadimlifted a bowl or platter on cue; Faraj took the carefully arranged platter ofmu’tamidiyyaandsanbusak,softly humming the key changes he’d need to make to the prayers to allow theqiyanto harmonize in their own ranges.
While the servants walked softly across the carpets to set bowls of soups and platters of bread and olives andbaridaamong the groups of priests, Faraj bowed to the flame in the brazier that symbolized the God-Emperor’s eternal sun-flame even once the sun itself had set.
He sang his prepared prayers of gratitude to the life-giving sun, the blessing of the great river, and the fertility of the earth; then he offered the first bite from his hand to the High Priestess of Bastet, because it was unquestionably her due here in Bastet’s city. The moment he’d taken the next piece into his hand, the Cobra-Priestess struck swiftly enough to pluck it from between his fingers; he nodded to her politely, then stepped toward the Priestess of Sekhmet and Elias, each of whom kept a protectively wary eye on the Cobra-Priestess while the other accepted a bite.
Theqiyanshifted their tune while he circled the room, preparing for a quartet as he offered a bite ofmu’tamidiyyaor asanbusakto each of the priests in turn. Mercifully, none of the others tried to bite him. He paced his steps to the rhythm of the drums, and arrived at his own seat just in time for the singers to take the melody.
Surely the order-priests cannot complain of our precision there,he thought. He wished he dared to call for charmlights to brighten the gathering, if it were not that the Priest of Ta-retiu would take great offense at the workings of magic among an assembly of faith. Even with the oil lamps, it was growing dim enough that he couldn’t distinguish clearly between leaping flame-shadows and leering premonitions. He hoped that the Cobra-Priestess had satisfied herself for the evening.
“You will be relieved to know that I withdraw my offer,” Anuket said to him. She was holding Neferkamin’s hand between her own, but it seemed more for his comfort than for hers. “As tempting as the thought of a child of prophecy might be, it is far more likely a child of yours would be utterly fearless and reckless enough to terrify my hair white. When did you lose your wits?”
“I did explain what was coming,” Faraj reminded her, mildly.
“It’s one thing to hear your confidence in prophecy, and another entirely towatch,”Anuket said, with a shudder.
“Says the woman who will not permit us to help her to her childbed, because she is so very determined to watch,” Faraj pointed out, selecting asanbusakfilled with sweet cheese and almonds to offer her. “Have you changed your mind?”
She nibbled at thesanbusakwith a sigh of appreciation for the warm, sweet treat, but chewed vigorously to be able to scold him again. “…You cannot possibly be so devious as to haveprearrangedthat spectacle with Beketmeret simply to scare us off,” she said. “Neferkamin has promised you a night’s chaste support. Surely you must appreciate such a sacrifice.”
“And I remain profoundly grateful,” Faraj replied, debating among the platter’s offerings. Neferkamin appreciated spice ineveryway, and so he chose to offer him a piece of the warm, egg-richmu’tamidiyyathat had been liberally sprinkled with olives and sumac and long pepper. “We must impress both order-priests and mischief-priestesses withouttoomany calls to the physician along the way. A breath of respite is a treasure, truly.”
Neferkamin accepted the bite with downcast eyes, and without even a whisper of innuendo. Concerned, Faraj brought one of the oil lamps closer in order to illuminate his face.
“Are you well, O beloved of Menas?”
“I should be,” Neferkamin murmured. “You are well, and Anuket is determined to be well, and so should I be. But I find I am sick to the heart with how fiercely I would grieve the loss of either of you, and tonight this ‘celebration’ has seen fit to surfeit me with both of those terrors.”
