Part Two: Father
Just put one foot in front of the other. Act like
you don't see them crossing to the other side of the street. Oh, there's
a rock. Kick it like you don't care at all. Pretend everything's fine,
ignore them all, just hurry and get off the streets before they get enough
courage to come over here and--
Sekhmet stared at the intriguing ground passing beneath
his feet as he went through town, somehow managing to walk slowly, although
he was in a hurry. He hadn't been at home for a long time, preferring instead
to sleep outside when it was warm enough, to stay as far away from there
as possible.
Viraz and Rielvia in fact had, well, suggested wasn't
the word, but it was the closest he could come to describing it. They hadn't
kicked him out, but were making him stay away because his mother was going
to have a baby, and they didn't want him to influence it. In fact, the whole
town was waiting anxiously to see if it turned out like him.
He hoped not. He would hardly wish his life on anyone,
and he shuddered at the thought of what Viraz would do, if it was. Kill it,
certainly, and perhaps his mother as well. When he'd married Rielvia, Viraz
had risked losing status by accepting Sekhmet as his son, and was forever
trying to prove his dominance, that he wasn't being controlled.
I wish I could control him. I'd make him writhe
at my feet and beg forgiveness. He'll never hit me again, the bastard!
Sekhmet bit his lip and gave the rock in front of him a good, hard kick,
sending it sailing off into the dust ahead.
He heard nasty laughter from the other side of the street,
and saw a gang of older boys staring at him, glancing and whispering to each
other. Sekhmet tensed up, stopping in his tracks without even knowing he
was doing so. Oh, no. Several of them began to stoop down, grabbing
rocks and handfuls of mud.
The oldest boy threw a rock at him, shouting insults.
Sekhmet barely managed to dodge at the last minute. Several more followed,
some he couldn't evade, striking rather harmlessly on his arms. They aren't
afraid of me, I haven't hurt Viraz and look what he's done! Well, I'll just
have to make them afraid, there's too many to fight on my own.
Sekhmet grabbed up a rock and hefted it in his hand,
poised to throw. "Aren't you afraid?" he asked mockingly, meeting the
leader's eyes with his own. He began to move slowly toward them. "I'll curse
you if you don't leave right now!" He glared until the boy had to look away,
stopping at a suitable throwing distance.
"First your ears will fall off," he began, raising his
other hand in the air, gesturing randomly. "Then your fingers, one by one,
will shrivel and break into pieces, and, then--" He didn't get a chance to
finish as the boys scattered and ran away.
"Finally," he muttered, dropping the rock. The only
children brave enough to bother him were older than him, bigger, but he had
learned that they took his threats seriously. He only wished they were real.
Of course, then they'd probably have me killed. But Sekhmet's thoughts
immediately changed as he neared his destination, the field where the clan's
warriors practiced.
He hauled himself up into a tree, a short distance away,
and sat on a limb, leaning back against the trunk. He watched the practice,
wanting to be out there with them, instead of hacking at branches stuck in
the ground. But there was no chance of that, and when they had all finished
and left he silently dropped down to the ground and left for his clearing.
When he arrived, he pulled his sword out from the heap
of rocks that covered it, unwrapping his old cloak. It shone as he raised
it in the air, not quite so heavy anymore after five years, and he jumped
forward, slashing at the branches.
In his mind's eye, Sekhmet saw Viraz standing there,
and lunged for him, stabbing and completely cleaving him in two. And then
there were others, his mother, the older boys, his whole clan, and with a
cry of rage he demolished them all. They screamed for mercy, begging, and
he just laughed, and killed them.
As Sekhmet gasped for breath, the whole scene faded,
and he returned to the forest, surrounded by chips of wood and broken branches.
And then, behind him, came a light he saw in the corner of his eye. It
disappeared almost as soon as he became aware of it, but still he turned
around with deliberate slowness, holding his sword defensively.
A human-like figure was coalescing before him, tall
and slender. He stared in astonishment, unable to move. He felt his hand
go numb, his sword threatening to fall from his fingers. Suddenly, it was
there, and he gasped, almost in shock.
The man before him was looking down at him with large,
golden, whiteless eyes. His pupils were vertical, slitted, and he held Sekhmet's
gaze so that he was unable to look away. His hair was green and very long,
floating around him of its own accord. He wore a simple red robe with a
short-sleeved one over it. Along his cheekbones and down his chest were
greenish-gold scales that faded into pale skin on his face and hands.
In one hand he held a sword loosely, and despite everything
Sekhmet could see that it was the match to his own. The man simply looked
at him, and, although it was completely disrespectful, Sekhmet just stared
back.
"You," he managed to choke out. "You're a
snake-demon!" The man laughed softly.
"We prefer snake-god," he replied. "My name is Essah.
And you are Sekhmet. I know."
"Why are you here?" he asked. The man didn't reply,
and Sekhmet felt that perhaps he'd been too bold. He kneeled in front of
him, offering his sword with his head bent. "This must belong to you. It
matches the one you have. I found it in the river..." He trailed off as he
heard Essah's chuckle.
"Keep it. It is your right as my son." Sekhmet jerked
his head up in surprise, stammering in shock. Essah's lips curved gently
into a smile.
It was almost too much to believe, too strange and yet
too obvious. Yet, somehow, he knew that he was telling the truth. Sekhmet
bowed his head. "I greet you, father," he said respectfully.
"Look up." Sekhmet did, and saw Essah raise his sword
and tear open the tip of one slender finger. "I accept you as my son, of
my blood. Bind soul to soul, protect one with the other. My strength to you,
your pain I take. Put this upon me, soul entwined," he intoned, reaching
out and tracing something on Sekhmet's face with his blood. It felt strange,
warm on his face, and then grew hotter, and he could see a faint glow reflected
onto Essah's face. It's coming from me! he realized.
"It is done." Essah announced, and the glow grew brighter.
Sekhmet couldn't resist glancing into the water, and faintly saw his reflection.
Thick lines of green glimmered for a moment and then disappeared, leaving
his appearance the same, but also gave him an unclear feeling, as if there
was something else there with him.
Essah stiffened slightly and blinked as Sekhmet looked
back over at him. An expression of something resembling pain crossed
his face, but he recovered almost immediately. A symbol appeared also on
his face, different than the one he'd seen reflected in the river, but similar
nonetheless, and then quickly vanished.
"So we may know our own." he said, gesturing at
the ground. "Be seated. There is much I would tell you, and much you would
know of me." Sekhmet sat down in the sandy dirt, still feeling a little
shaky. Essah sank down to sit across from him, his hair floating down to
settle in waves.
"It begins... it must be thirteen years ago now, although
it seems longer than that. Here in the dark forest, I noticed a human. This
was strange, because they don't seem to like it here. I decided to appear
to her.
"She was afraid at first, but perhaps she was
more curious. But, for whatever reason, she did not run away. I was impressed
with her bravery, and decided to learn more about her. I soon found out that
her name was Rielvia."
"Mother!" Sekhmet exclaimed in spite of himself, and
Essah nodded.
"Yes. Although it may not be the case now, your mother
was very beautiful in her youth, and I became, well, quite charmed by her.
We arranged to meet again, in the forest. She liked to go here to be alone,
and apparently wouldn't be missed.
"We met often, but suddenly she stopped coming. So I
made it my task to find out what had happened to her. And so I found out
that Rielvia was married, to a warrior named Ayaken, and with child. I appeared
to her once more, and she revealed that she didn't know if the child was
her husband's or mine. That was the last time I ever spoke to her, but I
resolved to wait and see what happened."
Sekhmet frowned to himself. He hadn't known that his
mother had been married to someone before Viraz. He had a feeling he'd find
out what happened soon enough, however.
His father continued with his story. "Soon after, you
were born. I was there, unseen, and was very pleased with you. However, the
humans were not. They were all in an uproar, especially the one called Faimbril,
your grandfather, and the lord of your town.
"Ayaken was shocked, and Faimbril wanted you killed.
I was prepared to take you away, although I don't know what I would have
done with you at the time, but fortunately Rielvia worked her charm on her
father, and you were allowed to live.
"There was much talk, of course, but none dared suggest
in public that the daughter of the lord had been unfaithful to her husband.
They felt that something had to be done, and so they had a meeting of sorts.
They were at a loss for an explanation, but one there, a wealthy, influential
merchant named Viraz, had a solution.
"Viraz suggested that perhaps Ayaken was a snake-demon
in disguise. This neatly side-stepped the question of Rielvia's faithfulness,
and the people decide, for their purposes, that it was the truth. Ayaken
was accused of being a demon, and you were the main proof. He was executed.
And shortly after, Rielvia married Viraz, who had been her lover. That was
why he risked losing status by accepting you and your mother." Essah glanced
down at the ground briefly.
"I watched you and the others from time to time, as
my lord permitted, but did not interfere. When you began coming to this clearing
regularly, I hid my sword in the river for you to find. You did, but sooner
than I expected. I waited until the time was right to show myself to you
and accept you as my son. And, so far, you have done nothing to dishonor
me, and indeed, have borne your burdens well for one of your age. Perhaps
now they can be eased somewhat."
Sekhmet tried to digest all this information. Several
things were becoming clearer to him now, things he did not like at all. He
stood up and turned away from Essah, frowning thoughtfully into the river.
He was aware of the movement of his father standing up behind him.
He sighed. "So, now I know my mother is a whore, and
took advantage of my birth to have her husband killed and marry her lover,
and it still won't do me any good." He felt Essah's hand on his shoulder,
and turned around slowly.
Essah gestured at the broken branches lying strewn about.
"Perhaps you would like to practice with a living being?" he asked softly.
Sekhmet smiled up at him hesitantly.
"Yes, Father," he said. "I would like that."
"You bastard!" Viraz snarled, pulling back his
fist for another blow. Sekhmet jumped to the side, and Viraz threw his whole
weight against the wall. It only served to make him madder. When he recovered,
Viraz lunged for him again.
I can't take this anymore! Is it my fault no one
will buy from him because he always smells like cheap sake? Why can't he
just get into tavern fights like every other drunkard and leave me out of
it? Sekhmet jumped away again, taking advantage of his small size, and
Viraz lumbered past.
"Hold still, damn you!" he howled, and Sekhmet managed
to chuckle.
"I don't think so," he gasped, but suddenly his heart
began to beat faster, if that was even possible, and he found himself cornered.
Viraz cackled and advanced forward, spit flying everywhere. Sekhmet stared
back at him, reaching blindly for something to use as a weapon.
His hand closed around a stray piece of bamboo, probably
from one of those tables they'd broken earlier. He seized it in both hands
and cracked it with all his strength over Viraz's head. It shattered into
pieces, and Viraz stopped cold. Sekhmet glared at him, clenching his own
fists.
Faced with opposition, Viraz was at a loss. He stopped
attacking and stumbled out of the room. "You'll pay for that!" Sekhmet heard
him bellow, voice getting more distant. He sunk back against the wall, gasping
heavily, and slid down to rest on the floor with a sigh.
"Now," he mumbled to himself. "I have to kill him, now."
He leaned his head back against the wall and began to think. I want him
dead, but I don't want to just kill him, stab him in the night. I'm still
a child, I guess, but they'd execute me anyway. No, there has to be some
way to do it and not get caught. Perhaps I'll ask Essah the next time we
practice.
"So, what do you think?" Sekhmet questioned, wiping
away the sweat on his forehead with his sleeve. Essah pondered for a moment,
and then crouched down on the ground, acquiring a look of concentration.
In a moment, the largest snake Sekhmet had ever seen slithered up, right
into his outstretched hand.
"Ah!" Sekhmet exclaimed. "How--" he let the statement
trail off, kneeling next to his father. He reached out to touch the hard
black scales, even though it would probably strike at him. It did nothing,
laying coiled in Essah's lap.
"Because you carry the blood of the snake-gods in your
veins, you have some of our powers," Essah proclaimed. "The power to control
snakes is only one of them. You will not have as much control as a full
snake-god, but it will serve your purposes. I will train you in this."
"Powers," Sekhmet repeated softly, trailing his fingers
across the snake's coils. "I really have powers... teach me, Essah, please!"
Essah smiled at him. "I will, my son. It will take some
time, however. By the time you are ready, it will be well into summer. Then
you can send the snake in to kill your stepfather, making it appear like
a natural accident. These things do happen, especially in summer," he added,
almost to himself.
"Yes, someone was bitten by a snake and died last year,"
Sekhmet said, nodding.
"Be warned, though," Essah said. "You must be careful.
They will connect you with the snake immediately. Therefore you must be good
enough to control it from the next room, and make sure you are with other
people when it happens, or else they will think you put it in with him."
"Oh, I'll be careful." Sekhmet promised. "Can you show
me now?"
"Very well." The snake suddenly sprang to life, lifting
its head, and Sekhmet quickly jerked his fingers away. It slid to the ground
and went off to the left. Essah stared at it, concentrating, and it turned
to the right. Then he brought it back over to him, and held out his hand.
Sekhmet tried to shout out a warning as the snake struck at his father.
Immediately, he felt a little foolish. The snake seemed
frozen in mid-strike, and Essah was just sitting there calmly. Sekhmet's
eyes widened involuntarily.
"Now it is your turn. I will make sure it does not harm
you. Reach out with your mind and touch the snake's." Sekhmet nodded and
then frowned in concentration. He felt something, he thought, but whatever
it was left as soon as it had been there. He made a frustrated noise.
"You are trying too hard," Essah told him. "Relax. It
will be harder for you, because of your human blood, but not impossible.
You must have patience. Try again."
"All right." Sekhmet relaxed himself, closing his eyes.
He let his mind go blank, and then felt that strange feeling again, almost
as if he was changing shape. He took a deep breath and then released it,
and then his eyes flew open.
Everything looked distorted and very, very large. He
felt himself move forward, slithering across the ground. Suddenly there was
motion above him, and, panicked, he struck out at it, consumed by the feeling
that this was prey, meat. He felt himself being lifted off the ground, and
twisted wildly -- and then suddenly came back to himself, gasping.
His vision focused, and he saw Essah standing above
him, the snake in his hands, nodding approvingly. "You did well, considering.
Do not try it unless I am here to protect you, until you get better. You
almost lost yourself, became the snake totally, and I might not be able to
return you if that happens."
"I understand," he replied, still shaking. "That--that
was amazing!"
"It is. Soon it will not be so overwhelming."
Sekhmet grinned. "I'm sure I'll get the hang of it.
And then Viraz will die!"
Rielvia cried out in pain for the thousandth time, and
Sekhmet covered his ears with his hands, trying to block it out. He curled
up on his side, listening to everything going on in the next room. His mother's
labored breathing, the midwife's reassuring murmurs. He didn't know how long
it had been going on, all night, perhaps, but he hadn't been able to sleep
at all. With a sigh, he turned over to his other side.
Groans, sharp cries, and then loud wailing filled the
air as the baby took its first breaths on earth. He heard the sigh of the
midwife and Rielvia's weak chuckle. The baby began to quiet down. And then
there was a pounding noise as Viraz crashed into the room. "Well?" he demanded.
Sekhmet sat bolt upright.
"It's a girl." the midwife said in low tones. "Normal."
Viraz whooped with glee and began to laugh.
"Celebrate!" he shouted. "I will have a celebration!
Prepare food, drink! Invite people! Everyone will come and celebrate!
Servants!" he shouted, apparently banging into things.
Sekhmet blinked in surprise as the baby began to cry again.
"It's the middle of the night," he heard his mother
protest weakly, hushing the infant. Viraz, as usual, ignored her.
"Who cares! Announce it! Servants! I want a message
sent to Faimbril immediately!" Viraz clapped his hands together and left
the room. Sekhmet slowly laid back down again. Tomorrow, at the celebration.
I'm ready, I know it. I can control the snake easily now. He'll die tomorrow.
Comforted by that knowledge, Sekhmet closed his eyes. Perhaps now he
could get some sleep.
Things were going well. Almost everyone in the
town was there at his house, exclaiming over the baby, which Viraz had named
Jynavy, and congratulating the happy father. Sekhmet went largely unnoticed,
staying out of the way like he'd been told. Of course, from time to time
they'd glance around nervously, to see if he was sneaking up on them, but
then they'd go back to eating, or dancing, or talking and forget all about
him again.
Sekhmet sat behind a tree, watching everyone as they
milled around. People... there were too many people! He wanted to jump out
of his skin. He saw Viraz and his mother walk by, stopping almost in front
of him.
"I'm going inside to take a nap," Viraz told her. "I
have a headache. You can entertain the rabble for a while." Rielvia nodded
and her husband strode off toward the house. He could hear her excusing him
to the others as she walked off.
Perfect, perfect! Now's the time... He crept
out from behind the tree and skirted the area, coming closer to the house.
There were people here, sitting in the shade, and he took a seat, away from
them but in plain view. They studiously ignored him, furtively making the
warding signs, and he waited.
Finally he located the snake, lying under the bushes
outside the house where he had put it, and guided it out. Moving through
the shadows, it slid unnoticed into the quiet house. Sekhmet saw through
the snake's eyes as it went across the floor. He saw Viraz's great hulk lying
on his mat on the floor, chest rising and falling with every breath he took.
His heart thrumming with excitement, Sekhmet moved the
snake over to him, and sank it's fangs deeply into his neck. Viraz screamed
and sat up, clawing at the coils which Sekhmet managed to wrap around his
neck. He could almost taste the blood in his own mouth, and Viraz let out
another yell. The people outside heard him and went rushing in. He stood
up lethargically and followed, absently identifying his mother's voice.
Viraz was struggling limply with the snake, and Rielvia
screamed, begging someone to help. A few of the men pulled out swords but
were hesitant about using them, worried about oetting bitten or hitting Viraz
as he thrashed around. Sekhmet concentrated on squeezing the coils tighter.
Suddenly he became aware that someone was saying his
name. He turned to see his mother standing in front of him, tears running
down her face, and behind that image he was tightening his coils still further,
biting into the soft flesh again.
"Sekhmet," she pleaded, touching his arms, surprising
him. She had hardly ever touched him before. "Please, Sekhmet, help him,
please!" He regarded her for a moment.
"I'll try, mother," he replied, and walked over to Viraz,
the hordes of people parting before him and closing in behind hm. He crouched
down near Viraz. My, that is an interesting shade of blue he's turning,
Sekhmet thought distractedly. He began to concentrate even harder. I
hope Father knows a cure for snakebite.
Sekhmet reached out for the snake's head and braced
himself, mentally telling it what to do. It did exactly what he ordered.
It bit him.
The pain shot through him, and he yanked his hand away
with a cry. He fell back, cradling his bleeding hand against his chest. Oh,
that hurts! He bit his lip to keep from crying. That wouldn't
do at all.
There was a collective gasp from the gawking people
crammed into the room, and a wail of despair from Rielvia. Jynavy began to
cry, and then Viraz stopped moving. Someone ran up and sliced at the snake
with a sword, effectively cutting it in two. Blood spurted from the cut the
blade made on Viraz's body.
Sekhmet felt it as the snake was cut apart, jarring
through him as if the blow had hit him. He withdrew his mind from the snake's
as all functions left it and it died. He bent over his knees, unable to muffle
the cry that escaped from between his clenched teeth. Fortunately, they all
thought it was a result of his bite. At least, that was what he hoped.
Rielvia began to sob into the comforting arms of one
of her friends, holding the baby close. All the entertainment gone, some
of the people slowly began to leave, others standing around uselessly. Sekhmet
stared at the halves of the snake, one part still clutched in Viraz's hand.
Goodbye, he thought at it. You have served me well.
There was movement above him, and he looked up. An old
woman stared at him, clutching something in a hand. He thought he recognized
her as the town seer, the woman who told the future. She dropped a small
sack near him.
"If you wish to live, put some of this on that bite.
It might not hurt to drink it in a tea, either." He opened his mouth to say
something, but she scowled and deliberately made the warding signs at him
before stalking off.
He stared after her in amazement before putting the
pouch into his sleeve. He stood up slowly and cradled his injured hand close
to him. Some men pulled a blanket over Viraz's body, prompting fresh sobs
from Rielvia. Her friends had sat her down, one of them holding the baby,
and as he walked by he looked down at her.
She looked back at him through her tears, and he met
her gaze, holding it there, like some kind of game. "What is it, mother?"
he asked innocently. She looked away.
"Get out of my sight," Rielvia snarled. He shrugged
and went out the door. When he was far enough away, he ran for the woods.
Just wait until Essah hears about this! I don't think they suspect me,
either. If I don't die of poison, it'll be all right. He laughed at the
thought. It seemed rather absurd. Well, Essah can help me, I know it.
He'll be proud of me, I bet. I did it! Oh gods, I did it! Viraz is dead!