8 Chapter 8

As I played my part, I looked into the chamber and spied the dead Prince Maimon lying on the hard stone floor, prone on his stomach.I couldn't see his face, whether he looked surprised or dumbfounded when he spied the guards with their swords unsheathed and raised against him.I saw only a small trickle of blood seep from beneath him, scarlet red against the pristine white linen of his kalasiris.The one chosen to slay him had been precise, striking at the prince's heart.Next, I hurried to the large public hall in front of Pharaoh's private reception chamber and cried out the news that infamy had taken place:Prince Maimon had been slain.The priests and scribes who occupied the area jumped up and quickly began to chatter in high-pitched voices, their shock echoing throughout the hall.

From then on time moved at a slow, heavy pace.I sat quietly in Pharaoh's reception chamber while two of his senior guards questioned me.Did I see the assassins?Could I describe them?Which way did they come into the palace?Which way did they leave?I told the guards that as far as I knew the trio of murderers had escaped via a back passageway and then left by one of the anterior gates not guarded.I didn't have to tell them that once the assassins left the palace they would travel the public throughway and then, no doubt, disappear into the city proper.

Finally one of the guards allowed me to leave.I had expected Pharaoh himself to question me, but I figured that he would be in deep mourning now and would dispense with the formalities.The guards would report to him later and relate my story.By then I would, no doubt, be dead as well.

As I returned to Queen Kiya's chambers, I tried not to think about what awaited me.I would not know when the sword would strike, where or when.I was to go about my business as if just another day in the life of the palace.One of the queen's maids bade me to take a small fold of linens to the bed chambers of the upper corridor reserved for the more important household servants.To do so, I had to cross a dark hallway and then walk up a narrow staircase to the servants' wing.

As I walked along, I spied the dark figure of a man lurking in the shadows.I froze and dropped the linens.The form quickly approached and confronted me with is sword raised.Despite the deepening shadows of the hall, the blade still glinted in the muted light of the chamber behind me.I tried to back away but I had been cornered with expert maneuvering into a small niche of the corridor with walls on either side.My assassin wore a black mask, his face, head and neck covered except for a slash between his brows and the bridge of his nose to allow for sight, his eyes now dark and gleaming with the lust to kill.For a moment I met his hard, steely gaze with determination in my eyes, daring him to do the deed.He instantly complied, shoving the blade of his sword into my chest cavity and then just as quickly pulling it out. At first I felt nothing, and I laughed a little because it seemed so ironic.Wasn't violent death supposed to hurt?

My murderer narrowed his eyes to quizzical slits, as if to say:why are you laughing at me?I have mortally wounded you, and soon you will die.That is nothing to laugh about.Scream!Cry!Howl in pain!When I made no sound or moved, he turned swiftly and ran down the dark hallway with his sword still in hand.

I felt the pain then, a sharp searing stab through my insides.I slid down to the floor, but before I passed out in preparation to die, I felt a hand at my back.I forced open my eyes and looked into the withered round face of Nyree, the old nurse.She knelt beside me and lifted me up a little with a surprising strong arm along the back of my neck.Now she placed the rim of a vial to my lips.The foul smell of its contents made me wince.

"Drink this, Ayelet!You must drink this before you expire or the spell will not work.Drink the nectar of the immortal ones, given to you by the goddess herself."

She forced the liquid between my lips, the taste just as vile as the smell, although the color of the elixir itself was a pretty green.In my mind's eye, the liquid shimmered like an emerald glass river, although my gaze grew weaker with each passing moment.

"Drink!" the old lady commanded again."Drink to live forever!"

As I drank, I felt the warm vile liquid go down my gullet while my blood-hot and heavy-seeped from the gash near my heart.After I finished, Nyree staunched my wound with a linen wrapping and then gently laid me down along the floor."Now you sleep, my dear.Sleep well and sleep heavy with no dreams to harm ye.I will wake you in two nights hence and you will be reborn."

Would I sleep here, or would I be taken somewhere else?I wanted to ask the old lady but no words left my lips.I felt sluggish and disoriented as the elixir took effect.I felt like one of the mummies, of someone wrapped up still alive, a rare practice but still done to those who violated the sacred rituals and sinned against the gods.I was able to see and hear but could not respond with words or even touch.In fact, I could no longer feel my limbs.

"Sleep, my child, sleep."Nyree tenderly stroked my fevered brow as her words soothed and comforted me like the sweet refrain of a mother calming her little girl.Inwardly I smiled fondly as I began to slip into the dark netherworld of nothingness, no life or death, just sleep...endless sleep.