Read Online Reflections in the Nile by Suzanne Frank - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Suzanne Frank
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arrogant Lord Cheftu still stood in the room, glowering at her. She met his gaze and was shaken by the animosity in it. “So, my lady,” he said in a deep, chilling tone, “we meet again. Health, prosperity, and life to you. My felicitations on your betrothal. I trust you will attend this time?” Chloe stared at him. He tried again, a cold smile showing white, even teeth. “Are you looking forward to it?”
Chloe shook her head violently.
He arched a painted eyebrow. “Then, if not to your marriage accounts, perhaps to your married bed? With whoever else is invited to join you?”
Chloe gritted her teeth against his comments. This hallucinogenic drug was not agreeing with her at all. The belief that this was a drug-induced episode was growing dimmer every moment. The details were too sharp, the sensory impact too real. What other alternatives were there?
None that were within the realm of sanity.
Cheftu sighed. “I am not here because I enjoy rescuing you from the embrace of your betrothed. My Majesty Hatshepsut, living forever! asked me to examine you, so please, come forward and sit at the table.” So saying, he took off his gold-embroidered cloak. With a clap of his hands he summoned two others,
w'rer
-priests, both about twelve. Their heads were shaved, save their youthlocks, and they wore simple kilts fastened with plain leather belts. One carried a large woven trunk, the other carefully laid aside Cheftu's staff and cloak.
Chloe could only stare. She was still adjusting to the elaborate costuming everyone wore, and Lord Cheftu looked like every depiction she'd seen of an ancient Egyptian—and every fantasy. He was broad shouldered, long legged, and glittering with gold, from the wide collar across his chest, the armbands that hugged his beautifully sculpted upper arms, a tiger's eye-and-gold scarab ring, to his black-encircled eyes, dusted with gold powder.
Except that his weren't the dark eyes she'd seen and come to expect on everyone. They were amber, topaz, and gold swirled together and bordered by thick black lashes that accentuated his long, straight nose.
She dropped her gaze and searched through the “other” mind for some clue about this man. When she got it, her head snapped up in surprise and she tried not to gape. He was closer now, opening his basket and pulling out metal instruments.
“First we must do an examination.” Without meeting her gaze, he called over his shoulder, “Keonkh! Take down our comments.” One of the boys settled himself on the floor, crossed his legs, and smoothed his kilt over them tightly, forming a table of sorts. The other boy busily added water to a black pad and twisted his brush tip into a fine point.
“We are ready,
Hemu neter
Cheftu,” said the boy called Keonkh, his voice cracking.
“Very good,” Cheftu said with a warm glance at the boy. “Now, Batu,” he addressed the other, “what is our first point in examination?”
The boy came forward and looked at Chloe, who was seated silently on her night couch “Health, prosperity, and life to you, great priestess,” he said. Turning to Cheftu, he answered, “First we examine her color, then the secretions from her nose, eyes, ears, of the neck, belly, limbs, looking for any swelling, shaking, broken veins, sweating, or stiffness.”
“Very good.” Cheftu walked behind Chloe, staring over her head. “Tell me of her color.” The boy observed her skin carefully, and when she met his perusal he blushed faintly.
“Please extend your arms, my lady,” he requested, and Chloe stuck them straight out as he carefully went over every inch of her newly browned skin.
“Hemu neter,
” he said, “the lady's color is perfection. There are no abrasions, no swelling, no odors, and no discoloring.”
Cheftu came around staring at her blankly, like an exhibit, which Chloe supposed she was. Keonkh was furiously taking down every word Cheftu and the boy spoke. “Send the girl Basha for the lady's morning
Chloe shook her head violently.
He arched a painted eyebrow. “Then, if not to your marriage accounts, perhaps to your married bed? With whoever else is invited to join you?”
Chloe gritted her teeth against his comments. This hallucinogenic drug was not agreeing with her at all. The belief that this was a drug-induced episode was growing dimmer every moment. The details were too sharp, the sensory impact too real. What other alternatives were there?
None that were within the realm of sanity.
Cheftu sighed. “I am not here because I enjoy rescuing you from the embrace of your betrothed. My Majesty Hatshepsut, living forever! asked me to examine you, so please, come forward and sit at the table.” So saying, he took off his gold-embroidered cloak. With a clap of his hands he summoned two others,
w'rer
-priests, both about twelve. Their heads were shaved, save their youthlocks, and they wore simple kilts fastened with plain leather belts. One carried a large woven trunk, the other carefully laid aside Cheftu's staff and cloak.
Chloe could only stare. She was still adjusting to the elaborate costuming everyone wore, and Lord Cheftu looked like every depiction she'd seen of an ancient Egyptian—and every fantasy. He was broad shouldered, long legged, and glittering with gold, from the wide collar across his chest, the armbands that hugged his beautifully sculpted upper arms, a tiger's eye-and-gold scarab ring, to his black-encircled eyes, dusted with gold powder.
Except that his weren't the dark eyes she'd seen and come to expect on everyone. They were amber, topaz, and gold swirled together and bordered by thick black lashes that accentuated his long, straight nose.
She dropped her gaze and searched through the “other” mind for some clue about this man. When she got it, her head snapped up in surprise and she tried not to gape. He was closer now, opening his basket and pulling out metal instruments.
“First we must do an examination.” Without meeting her gaze, he called over his shoulder, “Keonkh! Take down our comments.” One of the boys settled himself on the floor, crossed his legs, and smoothed his kilt over them tightly, forming a table of sorts. The other boy busily added water to a black pad and twisted his brush tip into a fine point.
“We are ready,
Hemu neter
Cheftu,” said the boy called Keonkh, his voice cracking.
“Very good,” Cheftu said with a warm glance at the boy. “Now, Batu,” he addressed the other, “what is our first point in examination?”
The boy came forward and looked at Chloe, who was seated silently on her night couch “Health, prosperity, and life to you, great priestess,” he said. Turning to Cheftu, he answered, “First we examine her color, then the secretions from her nose, eyes, ears, of the neck, belly, limbs, looking for any swelling, shaking, broken veins, sweating, or stiffness.”
“Very good.” Cheftu walked behind Chloe, staring over her head. “Tell me of her color.” The boy observed her skin carefully, and when she met his perusal he blushed faintly.
“Please extend your arms, my lady,” he requested, and Chloe stuck them straight out as he carefully went over every inch of her newly browned skin.
“Hemu neter,
” he said, “the lady's color is perfection. There are no abrasions, no swelling, no odors, and no discoloring.”
Cheftu came around staring at her blankly, like an exhibit, which Chloe supposed she was. Keonkh was furiously taking down every word Cheftu and the boy spoke. “Send the girl Basha for the lady's morning
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