Meryamun set down the mace and took up his crook and flail. He raised his arms to the masses, drinking up their adulation. When he lowered them, the people quieted.
“People of Khetara,” Meryamun boomed. “I come to you today not only as Pharaoh, but as a bearer of the truth. Beware! The truth has long been a stranger to this land, so your ears may not be accustomed to hearing it. But I believe in you. I believe you are strong enough to be tempered, not destroyed, in the heat of the truth. Am I correct, Khetara? Are you strong enough to hear my words?”
The people cheered.
Neff leaned forward, wondering what it was the king was about to say.
“Then here it is. Here is the truth,” Meryamun said dramatically. “My father, may he live forever in the West, was a good man, and I feel his loss keenly. But people of Khetara, a good man does not always make a good king!”
A shocked murmur rippled through the crowd.
“He was, as I am now, a holy vessel,” Meryamun went on.“However, I believe that in his later years, he turned a deaf ear to the word of the gods. Ruled by weakness and sloth, he allowed this once great kingdom to run fallow. Why do you think the land does not grow as it once did? Why does the river not flow as swiftly as it has in the past? Why do you suffer where once you thrived?
“Because when you offer nothing to the gods, you receive nothing in return. We have forgotten that only through strength and sacrifice can this kingdom reach its potential. Khetara has suffered in this drought for too long. But tomorrow, that drought will be over. Tomorrow, the season of inundation begins.”
Neff felt that strange, otherworldly feeling intensify. Suddenly she was back in Bubas, standing before Bast’s palanquin, visions of blood saturating her mind’s eye.
Beware, for soon the Great River of Khetara will turn to blood.
“Tomorrow, the forgotten floodgates of power will be thrown wide, so the true might of this kingdom will once again flow free!”
The crowd cheered once more.
“Tomorrow, whosoever dares to oppose our great purpose will drown in the currents of war!”
Over the thundering masses, Neff heard the doleful words of the lamb.
Where once there was order, chaos will reign.
“Tomorrow,” Mery thundered, “is the birth of a new Khetara!”
Neff staggered, feeling as if she were back in her vision,drowning in words and in blood.
Take heed, Thonis, Great House of Amun!
Take heed, Sakesh, Great House of Ra!
Beware! Sorrow and ruin to the Children of the Two Lands!
Neff gasped, and the dream shattered. She blinked, overwhelmed by noise and color and motion. The crowd was beginning to disperse. She looked to where the three strange women had been standing, but they were gone.
The coronation was over.
Meryamun turned to her, laying a bejeweled hand on her shoulder. “Are you all right, Nefermaat? You look pale.”
She nodded. “Just overheated, my king.”
“Too long in the sun?” Meryamun said, his radiance blinding.
“I think so.”
“Then come. There is much still to do.” He gestured for her to walk with the others back into the temple. “Feasts and celebrations long into the night, food like you’ve never eaten before, dance, music…”
Neff followed his lead, dazed and frightened. Already the people of Khetara, desperate for salvation, adored their brilliant young king. The truth of his wickedness sat heavy in her heart, like a stone she was meant to throw.
She thought about what he might mean when he spoke of sacrifice—and she shivered.
“We must have our fun now, little seer,” Meryamun whispered in her ear. “In the morning, the work begins.”
