Брайан Ламли - Khai of Khem

Khai was aware of his sister’s trembling where she stood close to him as the twenty girls were paraded one at a time before the Pharaoh, and as he chose his three new brides she shuddered anew and tried to make herself just a fraction smaller. But when the choosing was over and the brides-to-be had been led away into the pyramid, then events began to take a much less orthodox turn.

First of all, the Black Guard turned out in its entirety to line the three precipitous rims of the plateau, all of them facing inward and forming a black wall to enclose the drama about to be enacted high over Asorbes. When they were in position, then Khasathut called for his Vizier, Anulep, to go to him. And here once again the assembled nobles were witnesses to an occurrence of extraordinary rarity, when Pharaoh impatiently cut short Anulep’s usual obsequious approach and drew him close to whisper in his ear. Such a thing was hitherto unknown and could only be portent of even stranger things to come.

Now, as a ripple of speculation passed through the assembled personages, Anulep approached them and passed among them, seeking someone out. Straight to Harsin Ben Ibizin he came, and ignoring all others—governors, high officials and ambassadors alike—he ordered the aged architect to bring his family before the Pharaoh. Harsin Ben heard Anulep’s command as in an echoing tunnel, a dream, a nightmare. Some dreadful premonition told him that all was not well, far from it. In some sort of dreadful slow-motion he led out his family before Pharaoh and prostrated himself with them, then stood up to hear the God-king’s word; which came with its customary whoosh and roar:

“Harsin Ben Ibizin—Grand Architect of the Pyramid—have you any idea why you before all others assembled here have been called before me?”

Harsin Ben tried to speak but could not find his voice. In the end, he merely shook his head.

“Ah! Perhaps you do know after all,” Pharaoh continued, “and the knowledge has dried up your throat. Very well, let me tell you. I am going to make an example of you.”

“An … an example, Omnipotent One? I—”

“An example, yes. To all others who might foolishly think to use their positions of trust and power against me. You are a traitor, Harsin Ben Ibizin. I, Pharaoh, accuse you!”

Following immediately on his words, the Black Guard uttered a single concerted “Waugh!” and as one man took a pace forward.

“You ... you accuse, Lord?” Harsin Ben staggered as his family clung to him in terror. “But—”

“Not only you, architect,” came the whoosh of Khasathut’s voice, “but also them that stand with you. Traitors all—with the sole exception of the boy, Khai. Only he has kept my ordinances faithfully.” The great jewelled head turned slowly to gaze upon the Vizier. “Anulep, bring out the architect’s drawings.”

Harsin Ben gasped as he recognized his plans and saw them laid out on a table set before the Pharaoh. He took a pace forward, reaching out his now-palsied hands.

“Stay, Harsin Ben, and listen,” Khasathut commanded. “For these plans of yours are at fault, and as such they clearly show your treachery!”

“At fault?” Harsin Ben gasped. “Omnipotent—”

“If my tomb was finished according to these drawings,” Pharaoh whooshed and roared, “then it would not be capable of performing its final function: to channel sand down into the lower regions and bury that nethermost chamber where my immortal remains will lie until the return of my fathers from the sky. And if that entombment were not utterly complete, how then might I expect to survive the centuries which may yet elapse before the second coming?”

“Most High Lord, I—” the old man started to say, only to be cut short once again.

“And if this mortal form which houses my immortal ka were not preserved, why, then the gods themselves might not have the power to bring about my resurrection! You know these things well enough, Harsin Ben, and yet you deliberately planned to sabotage my plans for immortality!”

“Waugh!” came that awful cry from the throats of the Black Guard as they took a second pace forward.

“No, Descended from the Sky, it’s a lie!” the old architect cried, breaking free of his fearful family and staggering forward. Anulep quickly placed himself between the Pharaoh and the old man, and the latter went down on his knees before him and clutched at his feet. “Vizier,” he cried, “tell the Pharaoh he is mistaken! Why, my plans were checked by my own son, Adhan, and he is a master of measurements and numbers!”

“Silence!” roared Pharaoh. “You merely condemn yourself with your stuttered denials. Mistaken, am I? And your son Adhan the mathematician checked your plans, did he? Well then, come forward, Adhan, and gaze upon your father’s plans. Come, I command you.”

Visibly trembling in every limb and white as chalk, Adhan went forward as ordered and stared at the plans on the small table. His eyes, at first puzzled and frightened, gradually grew disbelieving, then angry. Color came back to his cheeks as he gazed up into Khasathut’s mask-hidden eyes. “Pharaoh, I see the error—but it is not of my father’s doing—nor yet mine. These plans have been tampered with, and by an expert!”

“Tampered with? And your father did not notice this ... this forgery? And you, the great mathematician, you did not see it? Where have you both been, if not at work on my pyramid ?”

“The work was well known to us, Omnipotent One,” cried Adhan, “and we rarely needed to consult the plans. Be certain we would soon have discovered—”

“Be silent!” Pharaoh whooshed. “You both lie ... you and your father both. The plans were tampered with, indeed! Well, they are not alone in that, it appears. Can you deny that your sister, too, has been ‘tampered’ with?” His great jeweled arm rose up slowly until his hand pointed at Namisha where she hugged her mother and sobbed. “You girl, come forward.”

Namisha took two paces forward, then crumpled in a faint.

“See!” Pharaoh roared. “Her guilt is plain to see. Because of it, she cannot face me. She is defiled, Harsin Ben Ibizin, and I know the name of her defiler. It is Adhan!”

Adhan’s mouth fell open where he stood at the table. He staggered and almost overturned the table at Khasathut’s feet. His mouth opened and closed like that of a landed fish. “Pharaoh,” he finally croaked, “these are lies—filthy lies!”

“Is Pharaoh then a liar?” the great voice blared out.

“Waugh!” roared the Black Guard, closing their ranks as they took a third step forward.

“Not you, Pharaoh, no!” cried Harsin Ben, his voice stronger now and thick with fury. “Your informants are the liars. All of these accusations—they are all cruel and false. Who is it?” he cried, wheeling about to stare at the crowded dignitaries, at their death-white faces, the caverns of their gaping mouths. “Who is it that falsely discredits and destroys me?” He turned back to Pharaoh, struggled past Anulep and stood beside Adhan at the table. “Can you really believe, Pharaoh, that my son would seduce his own sister?”

“I can believe—I do believe!” Pharaoh roared. “Yes, he has had incestuous relations with her, I have proof. There was a witness. I can produce him. The gods may mate with their own flesh, Harsin Ben, to keep the blood pure—but it is not for ordinary men to defile flesh which Pharaoh has named his own. I would have considered her for my bride, but now… ? You may be sure I would not accept any but the most damning evidence. Aye, and I have that evidence! I know the names of others who have had her, men I occasionally employ to test the eligibility of the women I chose for my brides. When these men approached your daughter, do you know what she did? She gave herself to them!”