The Death of Kings - Chapter Four

{Three months prior the assassination}1


<-Italics->
Nuranna was never content with life. It was nearly two in the morning when the queen found herself in the lower ends of the city Hermopolis, which stood on the borders of Upper and Lower Egypt. A few lamps hanging from nearby shops and homes scantily lighted the dirt road she was on, and she walked on alone. A sole passerby, a late drunk, only brushed past as she nodded to him. Coming to a cross street, Nuranna turned left down an even darker path. Her breathing was erratic, her hair—tousled.2

Down the road by about fifty steps, two short stonewalls broke off from the right. They were set four cubits apart creating the path she took. The faint glow of the moon was now the only light. As she walked she found her thoughts breaking against each other, some filled with doubts about what the others were bringing up. She was angry and greedy, lustful, but she was also scared. She pulled at her cloak. Warmth eluded her body as it pooled towards her face.3

The walls began to break away into a courtyard fully lined with stone blocks and bricks. Remains of torches and holy decorations lay in shambles in the corners and a single, beastly idol stood lopsided against an alcove. She kept walking until she came to the center of the courtyard, and then paused. With a quick glance, she looked back to the walkway, drew in a breath, and then looked back to the alcove. Webs draped its corners and also covered the stone statue, as webs do to everything forgotten and forsaken. The queen licked her lips. “Emptiness should hold within one’s mind. Death should come quickly to those who it must,” she whispered almost silently.4

The shadows, cast by the moon, began to fade as the moon itself began to fade. Darkness ebbed its way into the courtyard and Nuranna tugged at her covering, pulling it even closer to her body. An eerie chill pricked her hair. A low whisper escaped her mouth; it sounded familiar to her, mesmerizing, but she did not know what she had said—perhaps something from childhood, something superstitious murmured before bed. 5

Nuranna swallowed. What was she doing? ‘ Death should come—this isn’t what—why?‘ Then, immediately, as if connected to her strewn thoughts, the statue moved. The queen gasped sharply and shot her eyes wide open. It moved again.6

And again.7

She almost ran for the path, but something held her, something in the soul of her heart, something she had to do. Her lips quivered with the chill in her. The statue kept moving, but now it was moving back and forth—quicker. Against one wall of the alcove it crashed and then the other, each time harder than the first, each time louder. Nuranna let out a shriek.8

“There’s no need for this!” she screamed into the quickly darkening blackness. “None!”9

The statue froze. And then it righted itself in the center. Within three blinks, the night had reached its strongest point and Nuranna was now blind. Her breathing caught in her throat as she ran her eyes against the nothingness. There was nothing to be seen, nothing to be heard either. She licked her lips continuously and nibbled at her bottom one. For many seemingly timeless moments, nothing changed.10

That is, until the crashing resumed and shattered shards of light began dancing in the courtyard. She heard pieces of rock fall and skitter against the stone blocks and bricks. The light emanated from the statue that was breaking itself apart.11

“There is much need,” called a voice, a slimy accentuated voice. The statue kept demolishing itself, but there was something underneath the stone for it retained its shape. Some odd, ethereal being shook under the dusty remains of the stone. Then, removing all dirt, the creature finally showed itself. Apep stood among his shed skin, staring into the eyes of the queen, blinking. “There is much need. Indeed.”
<-Italics end->12


As simply as a conversation between two strangers could be, the monstrosity had said “hello,” and what followed afterward had led to various plotting and plans. The queen, Nuranna, was very selfish as all with attainable, close-to-your-grasp power are. She felt misused almost. Kayun needed to be murdered. Egypt needed a more powerful queen. Certain abominations can always be acted upon.13

It was now two days before Kayun’s murder, and Nuranna once again found herself in that hardly-visited temple. Other than the drunken man passed out in the corner, again there was no one else there. She looked at the man more closely and found that spiderwebs had started to form around his arms. He was dead.14

“Back again, Nuranna?”15

The queen turned around to find Apep in the pathway to the courtyard, standing there in his grotesque form. The sun still had about twenty-five minutes until it went down, which meant twenty-five more minutes of viewing his deformities. “Isn’t a bit unsafe for you to be wandering around where people could see you?” she asked.16

Apep began crawling over to the man in the corner. “People here are either drunk, like this man, or too over-worked to notice any difference. Plus, no one’s ever around my temple unless they’re here to die—either accidentally or purposely.” He turned his head back to her and offered a disgusting smile with his large, twisted mouth. “Do you mind?”17

Nuranna turned her head, and, given his answer, Apep began on his lunch in the corner. It doesn’t need to be described.18

“Has,” he mumbled juicily, “has everything been set out?”19

Nuranna kept her eyes on the opposite corner. “If you’re not referring to eating utensils, then yes. Everything has been set out. The guards have been removed from my husband’s spring home, and they promised that they would be sending someone.”20

“How can you trust what they say is true?” Apep asked. Nuranna heard a slurping sound.21

“They’re gods—each of them.”22

“Yes, but they might be my class of deity,” he chuckled.23

“Yes, but they’re not Egyptian gods.”24

“Ah.” Apep lipped his teeth with a stained tongue. “You can turn around now if you don’t mind a couple spots on the wall.”25

“I’m fine. You remember all that you’re suppose to do?”26

“Yes,” he sighed.27

“Then remind me.”28

“So I would have to clean up all of this to get a beauty such as yourself to look at me?” he questioned. Nuranna knew he was smiling.29

“You would have to do more than that. Now tell me.”30

“Fine.” He began scraping at the wall with his legs, lifting them as high as he could, but he still couldn’t reach the highest spots. “I chase the assassin after he has killed your… your amazing husband, Kayun, and then I kill him…the assassin.”31

“Precisely. Then what?”32

“I eat of course.”33

Nuranna closed her eyes and stuck her tongue between her teeth and upper lip, keeping herself from biting out. “No. You bring the body to Kayun’s throne so we can then exhibit it for the people. Remember the exchanges of power and popularity, Apep.”34

“Of course. I come back with the assassin’s carcass, you say how you employed me to track down Kayun’s murderer—giving you an already popular position as the new governing force and me a more popular position as a god, perhaps more worshippers and temples—and then we sit back and let normal idiots take care of the other things… Perhaps I’ll have a new cult following and a new role under the sands.” By the time he spoke his last sentence, a wandering look had begin to creep into his eyes. He was tired of his role, to say the least.35

The sunlight had vanished by this time, so Nuranna cautiously turned around to look at Apep. “Good,” she meant this in response to both his speech and the fact that he and his mess could no longer be seen. “And in case you are unable to execute the assassin?”36

“That will not happen, milady,” he stated confidently.37

But his confidence was soon degraded to mere ripples of prowess. Apep was now desperate to relieve his situation. After he had lost Zanoth to the Greek god, he turned to the underworld a couple of days later. He feared the gazes that would meet him there, but his failure had to be mended.38

39

There have always been great differences between each kingdom’s gods. In the northern regions of the world, the barbarians’ gods were usually grouped into sanctions of war and fertility, the Æsir and Vanir. In Greece, the deities were completely divided into different areas—wisdom, war, art, beauty—but the gods themselves were involved with the men and women of their kingdom; they liked to involve themselves in a human’s daily practices, play with it. But in Egypt, though priests and idolization worshiped them regularly, even though they were also sanctioned into different followings and areas, most of them sat back and enjoyed themselves—save for the gods of judgment and the god of the sun. 40

Nepthys, Anubis, and Osiris were always the ones that could be found in the judging chamber—the door to Aaru, the Egyptian heaven. Nephys, to be simply described, was an abnormally large, dreaded cat that watched over the deaths of Egyptians. Osiris was more normally shaped, but he was a giant or was perceived to be. His lanky form and adornments added on to his stone imitations, where gatherings worshipped him for his judgments of souls. The third god, Anubis, was the equivalent of , our oarsman to the other side. If judged worthy, the jackal-headed Anubis would lead a gleeful soul from the chambers and into Aaru. It seems all the Egyptian gods, apart from Isis—whose beauty was only lesser to Aphrodite, were monstrosities. The pompous Egyptian gods were arrogant also. They were quick to anger, and Apep didn’t expect to be welcomed very warmly.41

When he entered the chamber, Apep was greeted by the scornful glances of Anubis and Osiris. Thankful that a judgment was underway, Apep scurried to his corner where a pile of deadened hearts sat uneaten. They reeked.
‘This would still be Ammit’s job,’ Apep thought as he scowled, remembering that he had cast out the lumbering, tri-animal devourer for his position. Things had withered down from his prior standings of power and influence and Apep had to scrape and scratch at whatever he could take with his claws.42

When the Grecian Apollo had fought for dominance, Apep made it easier for him. Every morning, just as the sun peaked among the dunes, Apep would battle with Ra, the opposite of his evils and his conqueror. Apep, before his popularity was shed, was the ruler of the desert skies, slithering through the clouds. When Apollo came with Artemis, Apep had given everything, trying to tire Ra out and hold him back as Apollo and Artemis slaughtered the men and women at the stone temple. He snapped at Ra’s neck and winged arms, drawing blood in the only the slightest ways, cutting him on weakening limbs. Amun-Ra shrieked and shouted as he tried to escape and rush to his people, seeing them in the distance—a chariot sweeping overhead. The sun god paid almost no attention to Apep as he tried to fly away. And Apep took every advantage, but he wouldn’t kill him. Only people could decide his death.43

When Amun-Ra was finally imprisoned in the depths of the temple at Delos, Apep found that he had no use once again. The people would hate him for his vengeance, so he decided to make them fear him for it too. Pushing himself down into Duat, he murdered Ammit, another monster such as himself, and took on his role in the tomb-like judging chamber where he now sat eating at deforming hearts.44

Apep spat out the taste, remembering to save a few for a later payment. Osiris’s judgment was nearly over as a light had begun to gleam from the weighted and arbitrated heart. The man standing next to the organ began to grin as his heart was placed back within his chest, and as he was lead through the doors by Anubis into an afterlife. As the two disappeared past the doorway, Osiris turned his head towards Apep’s corner. He wore the crown of old Egyptian kings and he carried their tools. “Come out of there, serpent,” he demanded, his voice booming. “I cannot see you where there is no light.”45

“Yes, Osiris,” Apep said quietly.46

“Good,” Osiris said authoritatively. “You know the question I’m going to ask.”47

“I was in Hermopolis, at my hovel temple.”48

Osiris breathed in deeply. “I see. Why have you been gone so long then?” 49

Apep looked back towards his corner, trying to think of an answer. He spotted the hearts once again. “There is something that could make Egypt much stronger.” He spoke a little stronger, too, as confidence came back to him.50

“And what is that, creature?” spat Osiris. Even for all his wisdom and rightful judgment, Osiris still held his prejudices.51

Apep hated the head of the Egyptian deities. He looked back at Osiris. “A powerful queen and some nasty hearts,” he smiled.52

Osiris walked over to the serpent slowly, bending his brow downwards. “What do you mean, Apep? What have you been doing?” Osiris spoke quickly and softly; he was now close to Apep’s face.53

“I’ve been chasing the assassin of Kayun Tepet,” stated Apep. Orsiris’s eyes widened.54

“Have you caught him?”55

“No. I’ve been planning with Nuranna the queen also… We need the assassin to come here and be judged unworthy.”56

“Do you know where he will be?” Osiris was quick in his decisiveness. He needed to hold on to his popularity just as all the other had to.57

Once again, Apep stared back to the hearts. “He’s at my hovel now.”58