The City of Refuge: Book 1 of The Memphis Cycle Read Online Free PDF Page A

Akhet-Aten!”
    “We have discussed this before,” Nebamun said. “You are serving as my escort only as far as Khemnu.”
    “I would better serve your interests at Akhet-Aten!” Paser stated.
    Ptahemhat the young driver leaned forward with a muffled exclamation. The sudden, hard pressure of Nebamun's hand on his shoulder brought him to a halt.
    Lord Nebamun smiled and said, “Paser, do you really want to go to a place that has been described as a 'hell hole' and a 'charmless backwater'?”
    “I am the ranking officer at the temple of Ptah!”
    “Which is why you should get back there!” Ptahemhat exclaimed.
    “The company has been set,” Lord Nebamun said.
    “That makes no difference to me!” Paser said.
    Nebamun was frowning. The expression slowly relaxed. “So be it,” he said. “Come with us.”
    “It's an insult!” Ptahemhat protested.
    Lord Nebamun's quiet voice held an edge of iron. “You will do as you are ordered! We sail in the morning.”

 
    V Khemnu
     
    Khonsu's daughter, Sherit, insisted on leaving their house and her sickbed to accompany her father to the docks and see him off. She stepped into his chariot beside him, slipped her thin little hand in his and smiled up at him as they drove to the quays.
    They paused before the great temple of Thoth to watch as a group of traveling players performed the mystery play of Osiris. The square was circled with onlookers while the actors portraying Horus and Set spoke their lines.
    “What are they doing?” Sherit whispered.
    “They're performing a play,” Khonsu answered. “See their false heads, the falcon head of Horus, there, is made of papier mâché. Look: they have their swords out now!”
    The crowd shouted with alarm as Horus' stroke went wide.
    Sherit's hand tightened in his. “Papa, I'm afraid,” she said.
    “Don't be frightened,” Khonsu whispered back. “It's Horus fighting Set, who murdered his father.”
    She looked up at him, her eyes wide and frightened.
    “Don't you remember, Sweetheart? How they told the tale?”
    She shook her head.
    “Listen,” Khonsu said. “Set lured his brother to death through treachery. He seized Egypt for his own, driving Horus into exile and decreeing his death. Horus swore an oath to avenge his father's murder, whatever the cost.”
    Sherit looked up at him. “He murdered his brother?”
    “It is an old story. His son, Horus, set out to avenge the murder. He cried out to Ptah, Strengthen my arm, that I may deal justice in your lands! Ptah heard his prayers. When the time was ripe, Horus took his sword and pursued Set across the land. At last Horus fought Set blade to blade and struck him down, avenging the murder of Osiris his father.”
    Sherit watched the players as he spoke, her eyes widening as the play-fight unfolded. “Then Horus won?”
    Khonsu watched the figures circling, their faces hidden behind the molded masks, acting out the story that hid an eternal truth. The murderer could not escape retribution. Soon or late, in this world or another, the Avenger of Blood would exact the price. “Yes, Sweetheart,” he said with absolute certainty. “Horus always wins.”
    The roar of the crowd cut off his voice as Set was beaten to his knees as though to underscore his words. Khonsu smiled at Sherit and then nodded to his driver to continue to the docks.
    They arrived as Prince of the Winds , securely lashed to her moorings, gangplanks slanting fore and aft from deck to dock, was taking on her final provisions. A human river of sun-browned backs, bent under loads of varying sizes, flowed along the quayside and into the hold of the ship. The thudding of a deep drum sounded out a rhythm which was echoed by the thump of feet against the wooden decks. The ship's bow, painted the bright green of the fertile fields beyond the river, arched upward; its painted eyes seemed to gaze down upon them with astonishment.
    A bevy of smaller ships were also loading on supplies and men. As Khonsu and