Then she stood on tiptoe and, to Taita's horror, tore deliberately at the mural with the point of the tool. 'What are you doing, you mad woman?'
he shouted. 'That is a royal tomb you are defacing! Stop at once!'
It was as if he had not spoken. She ignored him and hacked at the face of Lostris with quick slashes of the knife. The underlying white plaster showed through the deep scoring.
Taita sprang to his feet, still yelling, 'Stop! Hear me! Your reverend mother will learn of this. I shall see that you are punished as harshly as you deserve for this sacrilege. You are calling down on yourself the wrath of the goddess …'
Still disdaining to glance in his direction the priestess left the entrance and, with a deliberate unhurried gait, started up the valley away from him. Beside himself with fury, Taita ran after her. He was no longer shouting but he hefted his heavy staff in his right hand. He was determined to prevent her escaping the consequences of her actions, and violence clouded his mind. At that moment he would have struck her across the back of the head, crushing her skull.
The priestess reached the point where the valley turned sharply.
She stopped and looked back at him over her shoulder. Her face and hair were almost completely shrouded in a red shawl and only her eyes showed.
Taita's fury and frustration fell away, replaced by awe and wonder.
The woman's gaze was level and serene, her eyes those in the portrait of
the queen on the gateway to her tomb. For a moment he could neither move nor speak. When he found his voice again it was a husky croak: 'It is you!'
Her eyes glowed with a radiance that lit his heart, and although her mouth was covered by the scarf he knew she was smiling at him. She made no reply to his exclamation but nodded, then turned away and walked unhurriedly round the corner of the rock wall.
'No!' he cried wildly. 'You cannot leave me like this. Wait! Wait for me!' He dashed after her and reached the corner only seconds after she had disappeared, still reaching out to her. Then he stopped and his hand dropped to his side as the upper end of the valley opened to him. Fifty yards from where he stood, it came to a dead end, blocked by a sheer wall of grey rock too steep for even a wild goat to scale. She had vanished.
'Lostris, forgive me for rejecting you. Come back to me, my darling.'
The silence of the mountains settled over him. With an effort he gathered himself and, wasting no more time in vain appeals, began to search for a crevice in the walls in which she might be hidden, or a concealed exit from the valley. He found none. He, looked back the way he had come, and saw that the floor of the valley was covered with a thin layer of white sand that had been eroded from the rock. His own footprints were clearly defined, but there were no others. She had left no mark. Wearily, he turned back towards her tomb. He stood in front of the entrance and looked up at the inscription she had cut into the plaster in hieratic script: 'Six fingers point the way,' he read aloud. It made no sense. What did she mean by “the way”? Was it a road, or was it a manner or method?
Six fingers? Were they pointing in a number of different directions or in one? Were there six separate signposts to follow? He was baffled.
Again he read aloud the inscription: 'Six fingers point the way.' As he spoke the letters she had cut into the plaster began to heal, and faded before his eyes. The portrait of Lostris was undamaged. Each detail was perfectly restored. In wonderment he reached up to run his hands over it. The surface was smooth and unblemished.
He stood back and studied it. Was the smile still exactly as he had painted it or had it changed subtly? Was it tender or mocking? Was it candid or had it become enigmatic? Was it benign or was it now touched with malice? He could not be certain.
'Are you Lostris, or some wicked wraith sent to torment me?' he asked
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it. 'Would Lostris be so cruel? Are you offering help and guidance - or laying snares and pitfalls in my path?'
At last he turned away and went down to the fort where the escort waited for him. They mounted and set out on the return journey to Thebes.
It was dark by the time they reached the palace of Pharaoh Nefer Seti.
Taita went first to Ramram.
'Pharaoh is still in conclave. He will not be able to meet you tonight as he planned. You are not to wait up for his summons. He orders you to sup with him tomorrow evening. I press you most earnestly to resort to your sleeping mat. You appear exhausted.'
He left Ramram and hurried to Demeter's chamber, where he found the old man and Meren facing each other over the boo board. Meren jumped to his feet with a theatrical show of relief as Taita entered. The complexities of the game were often beyond him. 'Welcome, Magus. You are just in time to save me from humiliation.'
Taita sat beside Demeter and quickly appraised his state of health and mind. 'You seem to have recovered from the rigours of the journey. Are you being well cared for?'
'I thank you for your concern, and indeed I am,' Demeter told him.
'I am delighted to hear it, for we must be up betimes on the morrow. I am taking you to the Palace of Memnon, where we will listen to one who preaches a new religion. He prophesies the coming of a new goddess who will hold dominion over all the nations of the earth.'
Demeter smiled. 'Do we not already have a plethora of gods? Enough, indeed, to last us to the end of days?'
'Ah, my friend, to us it might seem so. But according to this prophet, the old gods are to be destroyed, their temples cast down and their priests scattered to the ends of the earth.'
'I wonder if he speaks of Ahura Maasda, the one and only? If so, this is not a new religion.'
'It is not Ahura Maasda but another, more dreadful and powerful than him. She will assume human form and
