Phaedra Weldon - The Light of Ra

“Isis, what secret did Ra give you?” I asked my brother’s wife as she lay beside me.

Many had asked her that question. None had ever received an answer.

We rested bare beneath sheets spun of silk the color of flowing blood. Our bodies sparkled with the sweat of love making, mine dimpling with the cold breeze that blew through the open windows of my home. Nymphs of night-blooming narcissus bowed to my desire and perfumed the air, mingling with the smell of our passion.

A golden spiral draped from the bed’s canopy hid us from view and covered us in the night-driven shadows. I took in the slope of her shoulder where her raven-black hair moved over her breast and pooled within the crack of my arm.

Guilt pressed hard against my chest, taking with it the Mother’s breath that held me in her arms. I was a man given over to the needs of her body, to the passions of mortal flesh. My heart was hers.

I did not truly care for Ra’s secret, the Sun God’s secret name, nor the coming and going of my brother Osiris into and out of Egypt. I cared only for the woman in my arms who so blindly loved a man who would never return such feelings to her in kind.

Osiris had been gone on his campaigns for nearly two years, and I had remained at his request to watch over his wife. Upon his return, he had filled his gullet with wine and food instead of pleasuring himself in his wife’s arms.

And in a drunken stupor Osiris told me of his conquests of golden-haired beauties across the whole of Egypt and beyond.

He cared little for the heart of his wife, and though my own guilt for taking Isis to bed marked my soul with remorse, I burned incense and gave thanks to Ra that such stolen moments as these were mine.

And so I had stood by her side, a constant shadow, as she gave her people life, healed the sick, restored the wounded, and bade the Earth to give over plentiful harvests. She was a sorceress of great power, the daughter of gods.

And I loved her, my heart forever a captive of her purity.

She had everything a woman could desire in this world, save the love of our lord and king. The people believed her powerful. Prevailing. Incorruptible.

Yet in whispers they called her cursed.

In all the years of their reign, Osiris and Isis had not borne a child. There flourished no heir to the throne of Egypt. The priests of Ra declared the light of the Sun God had turned away from Isis–that her barrenness came from her use of sorcery.

And I had watched her carry the weight of this judgment with quiet dignity, even as she clung to the hope that one day her husband would return to her bed and give to her a child to love.

Though I would have gladly given my seed to her cause and brought a child into this world, Isis used her magic to prevent conception.

Isis sat up. I felt the brush of her dark hair on my arm. She left the bed, abandoning the color of royalty, giving over her exquisite body to the night’s cool caress as she walked to the window. A potted palm swayed in the night’s breeze on the terrace outside.

I rose as well and walked to her, my own dark tresses falling in curls over my shoulders, pushed aside by the Mother’s breath. I wished to abandon myself to the night, to fly high in the heavens as I once did in my youth, before taking up the responsibilities of being my brother’s Right Hand. I yearned for freedom. I yearned to be free of shame.

I yearned for her to love me as I loved her.

“Set, why must you know such a thing?” Her voice was deep, intoxicating to hear. Power filled it, swelled over me, and pulled me closer to her. “You ask this for another. Thoth perhaps?”

I cringed inwardly at the mention of my brother’s vizier–the tall, imposing figure of Osiris’ former Right Hand. In truth, both men had come to me and bade me ask the queen of her secrets.

“She trusts you,” Osiris had said to me, picking an apple from the bowl on my table. “She will talk to you.”

Thoth had laughed from the door. “Perhaps your job is best suited as the counselor of women, brother Set, and not the Right Hand of the King.”

I had looked to Osiris, ignoring the snorting of Thoth. “Perhaps it would be best if you spoke to her–gained her trust?” I offered such council often to my brother.

And as always he’d brushed it aside with a wave of his hand, as waving away a dung fly. “I have other things to occupy my time.”

I knew he had meant he had other beds to sleep upon.

Isis’ movement from the doorway brought my attention away from memories of the previous day and back to the enjoyable company of the night. She turned and looked up at me. I was lost in those eyes, dark obsidian pools filled with the night’s starry sky. “They fear me, Set?”

I put my hands on her muscled shoulders. Her skin was like a new-born lamb’s coat, and I ran my fingers down her arms to her waist. “I do not know, my lady.”

I heard her breath catch in her throat as I pulled her closer to me. Though her heart belonged to my brother, her body was mine. I brushed my lips across hers. “I do not fear you.”

“No…” she whispered before returning my kiss. She pulled away from me. “But perhaps you should…”

I wanted her. I knew her, as my brother never would. My heart called out to her when I saw fear in her eyes.  “Isis?”

“They should all fear me, Set.” She said. “The power of Ra’s secret name. Even I fear what I have done.” She moved into my arms, and our bodies locked together. “Today I brought a child from the dead brother-lover. He had not yet stepped upon the road of the dead and still lingered nearby. I called out the words–Ra’s secret name–and he came back.”

She shivered in my arms.

I pulled her away and looked into her face. “Gracious Lady, what is it you fear? You have given a child back his life, a mother back her love.”

Her golden eyes sought out mine. “No Set. I sentenced a free soul to an eternity locked inside a shell that no longer wanted him. His destiny had been death, and I changed that. He does not eat, nor does he sleep or move. He answers only when asked and does as his parents wish. But in his eyes, there is no life. Only despair.” She closed those eyes. “Ra warned me of the consequences, and I did not understand. I stood beside that silent child and looked at my hands. I felt as if I died a little in giving life. I wish never to do that again.”

I pulled her close and held her and made her promise under the moonlight. “Then by my heart, Isis, you never will.”

•••

Osiris roared at me when I denied him what he sought. We stood together in his chambers, a small, private lodging so near to the throne room that I was sure the vassals and supplicants could hear the King’s angry cry.

His polished gold floors were a battlefield of hand-made pots collected from his travels, all strewn from his empty bed of rolled silk to the mirror decorated with golden calves. The smell of sandalwood hung in the air as a palpable cloud.

We were both dressed casually in shifts of pleated linen. I had pulled my hair back into a golden queue, though Osiris kept his long and curled over his shoulders to match his coiled beard.

Thoth held his customary place in a corner chair. He peeled an apple in ringed fingers and cut off pieces with a goat-hilted knife to eat him. I didn’t want him in there.

I didn’t want him to know of my love for Isis. Or our trysts.

Osiris’ handsome face swelled with rage as he paced, his sandals clacking on the floor. There was the odd crunch here and there when his solid weight pressed down on broken pottery. “You are my brother!”

I held up my hands to him. “And you are her husband!” I held in check my disgust with him. “She did not give me the secret, brother. And I did not press her for it.”

Osiris took in several angry breaths then stopped his pacing. He rubbed his stubbled chin and fixed me with his hawkish eyes. “But it is true–she gave life to the dead child. She can defeat death.”

I nodded. “But it wasn’t something she would wish to do again.” I did not tell him why because he would never understand.

“She can cheat death, your highness,” Thoth said from his corner. I cast my gaze at him briefly. He looked more like a denizen of the underworld than an adviser. “Think of such a power. If killed in battle, you could be brought back to life. If the people knew their king was immortal…” Thoth shrugged as he chewed on a piece of apple. “It may quiet their cries for an heir.”

“I need no heir,” he snapped and turned away. Osiris put his hands squarely on his hips. “I rule this kingdom. But this news also delays our plans to destroy her magic.”

I stared at the king. He would work such an insidious plan against his wife? And why? I asked this of him in no small a voice.

But it was Thoth who answered. “Because her popularity grows stronger among the people than the king’s,” Thoth stood from his chair and folded his arms over his bare chest. “That can not be permitted.”

Osiris turned and looked at me. I felt uncomfortable beneath his weighted gaze. “You love her.”

I would not deny this. My heart would never allow it.

“She is my wife.”

I nodded. “She loves you, brother. That is something I will never have of hers.”

He continued to stare at me, but I knew from the glaze over his eyes that his thoughts were somewhere else. “And this…this angers you? That she loves me and not you?”

“Angers me?” I shook my head. “No. Isis will love whom she loves. She loves you, her husband, and she only wishes to do right by her people.”

Osiris remained quiet.

Too quiet.

•••

Osiris departed two nights later, again on another campaign.

Two weeks after his departure, I was dragged from Isis’ bed, against her protestations and brought to the dungeon and held in chains. The jailers whipped my body repeatedly as I plead my innocence to whatever it was I was accused of.

After days of hanging suspended from my wrists, I was placed on a rack and bound hand foot as two priests cut out my tongue.

I could not remember how long I lay in my cell of dried wheat, feces, and fleas. I didn’t know what it was I had been punished for and feared that it was for my love of the queen, my sister-lover. I had partaken of the queen’s flesh. I wept because Osiris had not come to me and given me forgiveness.

I wept because Isis had not protected me.

Yet I feared even more for what may be have befallen my heart, my love.

Isis.

I was dragged from my cell, chained with a rotting post against my back and led to the throne room of the king and queen.

The torches were lit with Ra’s light. It flickered against the throne room’s high walls, casting shadows against the throne room’s high walls, casting shadows against statues of my family. The people stood behind and beside those great monuments, raising their fists at me with anger.

I could not speak to them. I could not defend myself my innocence. I was whipped as I ascended the steps to the throne, and I smelled and tasted my own blood, the salt of my own sweat. I was mortal in this moment, stripped of all rank and privilege. Relief took some of my pain away when I saw Isis. She stood before the throne of the king, her hair braided with gold, her dress of pleated linen, a base for the turquoise and gold necklace of office upon her breast.

Of Osiris I saw nothing.

I quivered as I was pressed to my knees, my arms held fast to my back. Something terrible had happened.

“Set, brother of Osiris,” Isis’ voice echoed through the chamber and her people became silent. “You are accused of murdering the king.”

I looked up at her, my own expression mirroring the surprise and horror I felt. Murdering the king?

She did not look at me, but I saw the tears fall like diamonds from her kohl-rimmed eyes. “They say you were jealous of my husband’s power. They say you and your men attacked him.”

She did look down at me then, and in those eyes I saw disbelief. Rage. Terror.

Fear.

She did not believe these stories, and yet she feared something. Someone else’s hand pressed her to this end. But who, if the king was truly dead?

“They say you hacked him to pieces and scattered him about the earth.”

I tried to pull free from my captors but could not break away from the chains. I was immediately struck from behind across my head. Images of my brother’s body cut into bloodied pieces of meat remained in my mind.

Osiris!

My senses dulled and I nearly fell. The crowed cheered. I could not protest! I had not killed the king!

“Who has accused him?” said a voice behind me. I knew to the be the jailer–my defender. It was his job to speak for me.
The room fell silent.

I blinked several times to call her image to mind, the one of her in my arms, our bodies moving soft as velvet against one another. I needed to see her as lover and friend.

I could not bear it if she were my accuser.

“I accuse you.”

I knew that voice.

Thoth.

He came into view beside Isis, stepping out from behind the royal throne on gold and inlaid turquoise. He too was dressed in regal robes, white, pleated linen and gold sandals almost as splendid as Osiris’. I watched as Thoth looked up and addressed the people. “I heard him devise the king’s death with my own ears. He coveted our beloved Osiris’ power.” He looked down at me, kneeling on the steps to the throne of Egypt.

A roar threatened to take down the ceiling. I struggled to rise and saw Thoth place a hand on the queen’s shoulder.

She flinched and closed her eyes but continued to to stand straight and tall before her people.

I knew in that moment Osiris had died at the hands of Thoth, and he now used me as his scapegoat. And somehow he held Isis in his power. What had he done to her? Had he threatened her in some way?

“It is for our queen to speak the sentence for the King’s murder,” Thoth said. “She must speak the will of Ra.”

Isis opened her eyes and looked at me. Tears fell again, and I felt my own eyes burn with my overwhelming love for her. I would accept whatever punishment she would give. I knew in that simple gaze she believed me innocent.

A dark countenance overtook her beautiful face, and in that instant I knew the power of the dark Mother.

Isis stepped forward, away from Thoth. “I vow to hunt the earth for the body of my beloved, your king, and when I have found him, I will bring him back to Egypt. With the blessings of Ra, I will give him life again. And with this new life, he will call what punishment shall befall his murderer.”

The crowds cheered. Thoth took a step back, his expression revealing his inner horror.

I looked at Isis. No!

I remembered the fear in her eyes, the look of terror at what she had done with the child.

She had found her own way to fight Thoth’s betrayal.

The dawn of comprehension came to me then as I knelt in supplication, deafened by the cheers of the people for their queen and her magic.

I remembered the conversation in Osiris’ chambers. The look of thought on Osiris’ face. The news of his wife’s power. This had been a plan devised not only by Thoth, but also by the king himself.

And then I thought it a wrong idea. Osiris would never have agreed to have his body chopped into pieces. Unless…

To destroy the body–would there be any hope the spirit would return? Perhaps Thoth had destroyed the king’s body, believing it impossible to reanimate. And he had cut out my tongue, depriving me of my right of defense.

Why had he not killed me?

I looked at Isis again and watched the tears. My beloved, what is it you will do? What monster will you return to the people of Egypt?

And at what price?

She forced a smile, but would not look at me, and heart wept.

•••

I was kept in the camps as the caravans searched the Osiris’ body. I was chained and held day and night in a box that allowed only enough room to kneel or to pull my knees to my chest and sleep. I was given little food and even less water, until I was unable to stand without being held.

There were nights I would wake from nightmares of beasts with the head of Osiris that slashed at my flesh. And then Isis would be beside me in my dream, caressing me, telling me all would be well. And I would tell her not to do such a thing–not to bring back the king.

But when I would wake, I would be alone and hungry, broken and sick.

I have no memory of how long the search took, only that one day we returned to the palace. The air was colder as I was bathed, fed, my hair clipped and combed.

And I was perfumed, dressed in a shift of pleated white linen and brought to Isis’ private chambers.

The night was open to me. A cool breeze touched my skin, and I again thought of our last night together under the moon.

I lay on her bed, not strong enough to move or try for escape. There were no bindings, no chains that held me there. I smelled the sweet musk of her body and felt her first touch upon my lips.

“Sshhh…” she whispered in my ear. “I must tell you things before the priestesses come.”

I looked over at her as her lips brushed mine. Water to a thirsty man. I longed to take her in my arms, to pull her closer to me. But I didn’t dare. I feared there were guards hidden in the room and I was again to be accused and punished.

“My dearest Set,” she said as she sat beside me and looked down. Her hair was plaited into hundreds of tiny braids, decorated with tiny beads of amber. Her eyes were kohl rimmed, lips dyed with beets.

Her skin was luminous, and her golden eyes held my own in her power.

“Thoth threatened to kill you if I did not agree to accuse you of Osiris’ death,” Isis’ voice was low, burdened with remorse. “He threatened to expose our love-making to the world. My heart is heavy with the horrors you have suffered. Please…forgive me.”
I stared up at her felt the oceans of time brim over my eyes and fall to the silken pillows beneath my head. She had not forsaken me. And as she kissed me, I drank in her softness but did not have the strength to take her in my arms.

If only to say her name.

She hovered over me and wiped the tears from my face. “He did not wish me to bring the king back. He fears Osiris’ wrath.” Isis shook her head. “I do not. But he knew he could not move against me once the kingdom heard my words. I will die a little again when I use Ra’s name to bring my king back to this world.”

I wanted to tell her no. I didn’t want her to risk her soul for a man who did not love her.
She put a finger to my parched lips. “I have found all of Osiris, my beloved Set. Save for one piece. The only part of him I ever wanted.”

One piece.

I did not need for her to tell me which. I guessed it to be the one piece of him she had never possessed.

His heart.

“The people call for their king, and as a sorceress queen, I am called to answer that promise I made to them.” She gave me a sad smile.

I shook my head.

“I must restore my people’s hope, Set,” she ran her fingers through my hair. “And you must help me. I ask this as your queen and as your lover.”

I did not understand at first. Not until I saw the priestesses in flowing white fill the room as well, bringing with them the scent of narcissus as they began removing the shift to reveal my nakedness.

Isis leaned in near me and kissed my cheek. “Osiris must be brought before the Priests whole. I know it was my husband’s wish to be brought back from the underworld, thinking he would cheat death and deny me and his people an heir.”

I saw the flash of a knife.

I tried to move, tried to struggle, but the priestesses held me still. So weak I had become that even the slightest strength of the smallest woman could hold me prisoner.

But I knew what they intended to do.

Isis wanted my heart!

She could not! Without my heart I could never love her. I would never remember our nights of perfect paradise beneath the moon. I would be only half a man, half a god, only half alive. What is life without love? Would that she took some other part of me, but not my love.

Oh what punishment beneath the heavens for loving so deeply my husband’s wife!

I cried out. A ghastly noise filled with the anguish of lost love.

Isis put her hand over my lips.

“Be still, brother-lover,” Isis said in my ear. She held the knife in her hand. “You will have your revenge upon Thoth, as will I. But Osiris must be made whole. I will bring him back, and he will find himself without his manhood.” She smiled at me. “He will have yours instead.”

Manhood? I screamed beneath her fingers as the knife flashed.

“I am the justice of my people.”

•••

Osiris sat on his throne as a small male child of five played at his feet. His shaved head gleamed beneath the torches of Ra’s light. I knelt beside little Horus and handed him a cow I had carved from a block of wood and painted that morning.

The child’s eyes widened, and he wrapped his thin arms around me. “Thank you, Uncle Set!”

He moved from the throne and scrambled down the stairs to where his mother Isis sat with her new vizier and discussed the workings of the city.

I moved back to Osiris. Drool had collected on his chest again, where it trailed from his open mouth. I took up a cloth and wiped the mess away, ever conscious of my brother’s eyes on me, crouching nearer so that he could wholly see me.

I smiled at him and spoke with the tongue of my enemy. I thought of Thoth, languishing in the very cell he’d hoped to bury me in with no voice in which to beg for mercy. “You believed you could cheat death, dear brother. And your vizier believed he could cheat you.”

I looked into his dead eyes and saw my brother’s rage peering out at me again. “I believed Isis would take my heart, and I would be robbed of love. But instead she gave you my manhood, and from that seed has grown a child. My child.” I smiled at him. “I have won, Osiris. For though I may never lay with Isis again, I will always love her. And that you cannot take away from me.”

He made not a sound as I kissed his cheek. A breeze came through the throne room’s open walls behind the great chairs, and I straightened and looked out over the whole of Egypt, a golden centerpiece, bathed in the light of Ra.

“The Light of Ra” copyright © 2006 by Phaedra Weldon.

 Published by Caldwell Press

Originally published in the DAW Anthology,
Hags, Sirens and other Bad Girls of Fantasy