Parts: 01 – 02 – 03 – 04 – 05 – 06 – 07 – 08 – 09 – 10 – 11 – 12 – 13 – 14 – 15 – 16 – 17 – 18 - 19
Copyright © 2016 by Cyci Cade. All rights reserved.
I turn to him, opening my mouth ready to say some insults, pointing my finger at him. He´s faster; he talks first.
“I need your help. I need my canopic jars.” His voice has a different tone.
Here I am, mesmerized by his beauty, muscles, and imposing body. Here I am, daydreaming again as if I´m in paradise. He is a rude stranger who keeps calling me servant and insulting me, but I´m ready to listen to him and obey his commands like any obedient dog.
Shaking my head and breaking the trance, I ask, “Wait a moment. Do you need your shabtis or canopic jars? What are canopic jars?”
He narrows his eyebrows as if I´m asking some absurd thing. He answers my question without protesting. “My canopic jars are more important. They keep my insides, my life. I can´t live without them.” He points to the sarcophagus. “They should be inside my sarcophagus, as well my shabtis. What happened here? Why did you violate my tomb?”
I gulp. I´m not an expert in this Egypt and mummy stuff but I´m not stupid, there´s something wrong. Very wrong. Pointing to the sarcophagus, I laugh, hysterically. It always happens when I´m nervous, losing control of the situation.
Then, I ask, “Who are you?”
He crosses his arms in front of his chest, puffing it a little more. “Anhuren, son of Egypt.”
I press my fingers against my temples to relieve the pain in my head and walk back and forth. It´s so confusing. The more I talk to this man, the more I have a strange sensation that I won´t like the result of this encounter.
“Let´s start from the beginning,” I say. “What are shabtis? And why are you looking for them?”
A sigh of frustration escapes him. “Shabtis are my servants. They are supposed to be here to help me in my task. But I can´t find them.”
I smile. Now it makes sense. Shabtis are his servants, employees. “Look, I arrived yesterday, I don´t know anything about this land. However, I can say that I just saw my mother´s team working here. How many… shabtis do you have? Maybe they crossed the river to buy something.”
He lifts an eyebrow as if he doesn´t understand what I mean. “I´m a son of Egypt, therefore, I must have more than three hundred sixty shabtis.”
My mouth drops open. Three hundred sixty employees? Wow! Still trying to figure this situation out, I ask another question, “Okay. About the canopic jars… I didn´t understand. You said that they have your insides, and you can´t live without them. Are they some kinds of recipients that contain medicine? Are you sick?”
His expression darkens. “I´m not sick. The canopic jars hold my organs. When I rose, I had to absorb my organs to recover my life and accomplish my task, but they were gone. And… before you ask, there are four canopic jars.”
I laugh. Again. I don´t understand a word this man says. It doesn´t stop me. “What does son of Egypt mean?”
“I was born and raised as an embodiment of the god of war, Anhur. I was a prince, and my duty was to protect Egypt, the pharaohs and the people, and serve other gods. Like a son of Ra, I have my duties.” He walks to my direction. “Go find my canopic jars.”
As I spin on my heels, four words catch my attention, ‘was, prince, embodiment, and god’. They are quickly replaced by four small jars with lids with different patterns.
I stop and turn to him. “Why am I obeying you? How do I know what your canopic jars look like if I´ve never seen one before?”
“I´m compelling you, serv…”
I lift a hand.
He stops in the middle of the word. A second later, he asks, “What is your name?”
“Adele, my name is Adele.”
“You ask too many questions, Adele. Go find my canopic jars,” he commands again.
I do. I protest, but I do. “You can´t compel me; it´s rude, impolite. As a god, you should be more… kind?”
“I´m not a god.” His voice startles me.
I thought he had stayed in the tomb. “You said…” I point to the tomb.
“I´m the embodiment of the god of war, Anhur. I have his strength and power, but I am not a god.” He accompanies me.
Examining his body, I whisper, “It explains many things. You are a god… an embodiment of a god, the god of war. It makes you a warrior. Anhuren. Anhur.”
I stumble. I see my body flying in the air and approaching the ground to an imminent crash. Soon after, I see my body flying in the air to another direction; I´m in his arms. Those strong arms are holding me.
My heart races in an uncontrollable way. I hold my breath when he pulls me against him and my face is only a few inches from his face. He keeps walking, carrying me through the narrow corridor.
I don´t know what to do. I just scrutinize him blatantly while he ignores me. Of course. Why will a prince, a god, pay attention on a girl who he considers his servant?
Putting me on my feet, he says, “You know what you have to do.”
I start to walk—a mechanical walking—as if I´m not commanding my body, but then, I ask. “Don´t you come with me?”
“I´ll join you the moment you find my canopic jars. Don´t waste time, you distract yourself too easily.” He makes a pause and I take my way. “Even distant, I can compel you, talk to you, and sense you. Don´t make me go after you.”
“I´d really like if you came after me.” I cover my mouth with my hand. I can´t believe I said that. “You distract yourself too easily.” I mimic him.
How can I pay attention to anything else but that incredible body? This is the first time I know a god, an embodiment of a god. What a god!
“Don´t make me go after you.” I murmur, mimicking him again.
I wish he came after me, not to compel me to look for his lost organs, but… What am I thinking? I might have left my reason in London. This man is crazy. Who would believe in that story? Why did it sound so real to me? Am I crazy too?