Daughter of Isis, Lilian Nirupa [books to get back into reading .txt] 📗

was his cousin Lizla. He could not figure her out. She had an exquisite beauty and the royal manners of his own mother. Lizla even looked like her, as Neferti had often commented when they were playing as children in the zoological garden. But Lizla had a proud heart and a steady mind.
“She could be a good ruler someday and certainly she is in the royal ascension line,” he thought. But why did she have such a grip on his own heart? Psusennes had had many love affairs; maybe his reputation was a problem with his studious cousin.
And there was also Altamira. Third reason to be upset. He found out she had lied to him; she was not pregnant. And she was being capricious besides being deceitful. Maybe the rumors in the palace were right: she was cruel with her slaves, too. He had heard those rumors before but he always discarded them.
“How frail is the human heart,” he sang to himself as he remembered a poem he used to read to his first girlfriend, a long time ago. She had married a Babylonian prince and moved away.
But now, somehow his current strange attraction to Lizla and the apparent irritation his presence provoked in her made him feel so sad and vulnerable. He decided to go back home to his estate up the Nile where the famous gardens with the zoological park would surely provide relief to his exhausted nerves. With a heavy heart, he called his servant Zahur and asked him to bring him back his chariot with fresh horses. Zahur was surprised to see his normally cheerful master in a down mood. But he was very discreet and silently he followed his master when he was invited to ride with him back to the palace.
The ride through the desert was silent; the only sound was the galloping horses traversing the burning sands at a great speed. Psusennes had taken the reins himself and was intently whipping the horses into greater speed. Holding fast to the rails of the chariot, Zahur could not help but wonder what the urgency of the trip was. The clear skies of the Lower Egypt Spring were soothing to the spirit and the winds on their faces seemed to act like a welcome fan on the burning hearted Psusennes as he sped his chariot with a firm grip on the reins and a deep frown on his face – which Zahur observed with some concern.
When they arrived at the zoo park state, before going to his palace, Psusennes instructed Zahur to put the chariot away and give the horses food and water. Then he went directly to the orange grove that surrounded the Isis chapel. He wanted to go inside and meditate when he overheard two familiar voices: He soon recognized them: Altamira and Ra-Ta.
The conversation concerned him and the Nubian problem. Altamira had gone to see Ra-Ta as she had heard that the Egyptian sage had gone down to Thebes on a political mission. Her real reason was to discuss her relationship with Psusennes that had grown cold recently. She blamed Lizla for it, but could not address the issue directly. So she pretended to be concerned with the political situation as her parents had moved to Thebes for retirement. Ra-Ta was polite but distant. His position as a celibate monk of the Holy Order of the Ra religion made him keep a safe distance from women unless they were his disciples – who were normally men with the exception of Lizla – and a long time ago, Lizla’s pious aunt, Neferti, who had been Psusennes’s mother.
“The prince is in Memphis in the Astrology school. He will be back shortly,” were Ra-Ta’s final words to her as he politely but firmly declined to give any information about the prince’s confidences to his spiritual master.
Psusennes was infuriated. He took a few minutes to calm himself and, passing behind a column at the entrance of the chapel, he quietly entered and sat to meditate. But Ra-Ta had seen him. He had noticed the heavy atmosphere on the prince’s aura as he entered the temple and decided to let him alone. Once again as he had done many times, he gave thanks to the Gods for a fulfilling life, away from the complications of court, politics or romance.
Psusennes felt the soft breeze of the fans on the high ceiling of the chapel. The flavors of aromatic candles and incense and the pink waves of light that entered through the western window proved a soothing mantel of relief on his burning mind and confused heart. Slowly he raised his eyes to the life-sized image of Isis, carved in soft rose granite that towered in the main altar of the chapel. Long garlands of jasmine flowers streamed down from the ceiling forming an aromatic background tapestry behind the statue.
The soothing perfume and soft light coming from the stained glass windows made the exquisite form of the statue even more beautiful. Her face usually shone with compassionate eyes, to which Psusennes was used to praying since childhood. But today the face turned to Lizla’s face. The statue had been carved using his own mother as a model for the goddess. So the eyes that he remembered were tender and supportive. However, this time the look of disdain he had received from Lizla seemed to shine from the beautiful statue. This felt like another stab at his already wounded heart. Why was she so cruel? She did look like his mother, after all she was her niece – but only today at the magnificent display of courage Lizla showed, her spirit also resembled mother.
Psusennes felt hot tears rolling down his cheeks. Always the warrior, he was not challenged even by this. He had not cried since his mother died, and his many love affairs had mostly given him joy, excitement and sometimes surprise or fury. But his feelings were deep and confusing now. “What to do?” The thought of truly surrendering to a woman’s charm had never occurred to him, the most sought out prince in the Pharaoh’s court. But when he looked into his heart he realized his feelings for Lizla, while passionate, had a far deeper connection. Like his own mother, who died of childbirth after some weeks of rigorous fasting to protest the Nubian invasion, Lizla represented what he loved most about his country: the ma’at, harmony, order, honor and beauty.
He decided to go to his spiritual advisor, Ra-Ta, and ask for advice. But first he needed to refresh and eat something. That would clear his mind or so he hoped. But he soon found out they did not. He had an uneasy frugal dinner before he retired to his chamber.
After a restless night, and a turbulent morning meditating in the chapel, he dressed himself in his best clothes and decided to approach his old master.
Ra-Ta was currently a guest in his disciple’s palace. He had always been an honored guest in their home, but nowadays his apartments were strongly guarded by the palace’s security legion. The rumors of hostile politics and the rebellion of the Thebes priests had not affected Memphis yet, but Ra-Ta as the main priest of Amon-Ra in Memphis could soon be contacted and forced to make a choice. So Psusennes, Lillie, Diogenes and Ishtar-la feared. At their request, the sage had agreed to hide in Psusennes’s palace.
Another reason to find refuge there was that Psusennes and his family had strong family and business connections in Thebes. Most of the trade down the Nile and into the Mediterranean was financed by the Thebes and Memphis commercial alliance. Psusennes and particularly his father were both admired and feared by these merchants. Their combination of wealth, political power and connection to the military forces of Pharaoh that Ra-Ta-la’s uncle commanded made the family practically untouchable. They seemed above the tremors of both the disturbing Nubian influence and the priesthood rebellion in Thebes, because they were needed by both.
Ra-Ta understood and accepted his disciple’s gracious hospitality. He felt a bit constrained by the constant security guards, but he left that circumstance to the gods, as he did everything else.
Early that morning Ra-Ta heard his dear student Psusennes at the door. He rose up and went out to greet him. “Oh my prince, what shadow of sorrow kept you awake?”
Psusennes could not hide anything from his spiritual teacher. But he felt it was difficult to discuss emotional issues with him or with any other man. Also he knew of the high regard that Ra-Ta had for Lizla. Psusennes fumbled to give an answer, as he could only come up with a dejected look.
Ra-Ta smiled and patted his disciple on the back. He was aware of most of the problem. But he expected Psusennes to speak first. His patience bore fruit as Psusennes sat on the chair next to Ra-Ta and sighed.
“My beloved teacher, I see you like a father and it is in this trust and confidence that I come to you.”
Briefly he described the events at the astrology class to the priest. Ra-Ta listened attentively and when he saw his disciple was about to break up into hot tears of anger and frustration, he rose up and started to walk, pacing the room quietly to give the young man a chance to compose himself.
Then the priest said, “Lizla was your mother’s niece. She is also a very beautiful woman with a proud Leo Venus.”
Psusennes interrupted without thinking, “The heart of a queen.”
Ra-Ta continued, surprised at the interruption; Psusennes was always a model of courtesy. “Yes she has the heart of a queen, which is what she is destined to become eventually. For that reason she needs a man in whose heart she can find a throne too.” Ra-Ta smiled significantly and awaited the young prince’s reaction.
“Oh, but she does, I mean she will, I am sure of it. I have known many women, but no one that obsessed me like that. I see her face in the Isis effigy, even. I hope it is not a sacrilege.”
Ra-Ta smiled with sudden softness. “Love is never a sacrilege, my dear prince. But as you mentioned just now, you have known many women and that may make your cousin a bit distrustful of your ability to see the sacredness of love.” Ra-Ta paused for a few minutes, absorbed in thoughtful contemplation. Then he added, “It seems however that the fates have many connections between you two. Such a marriage would bring a political alliance that would help heal the problems in the land.”
Ra-Ta was aware that his disciple was listening, but he was mainly thinking aloud. Psusennes jumped in.
“Normally I would agree my revered priest, but I am in love with her. I don’t want a political alliance. I want her to love me, too!” Then he paused and looked at Ra-Ta to seek sympathy or counsel or some form of assurance that there was a solution to his problem.
But Ra-Ta was serious. This was an important lesson for his pupil. Also the future of Egypt might depend on it. So he looked deeply into Psusennes’s eyes and said, “My dear prince. You have distinguished yourself in battle? Any one else in your family?”
Psusennes was surprised by the question. His military record was well known. “My revered priest,” he answered with pride and candor, “I have had the privilege to serve the Divine Pharaoh with my sword and my chariot on several occasions. My father commands the closest legions of Pharaoh. You know I am from a military family.”
“Very well,” said Ra-Ta. “You know that to conquer in battle requires courage, patience, perseverance and faith, correct?”
Psusennes assented with curiosity wondering where the priest was going.
“Well, my prince, here you have a bastion of strength, your