Shades of the Wind by Charlotte Boyett-Compo Page B

stairway that
    led down to Prince Khenty’s workshops. His black eyes were narrowed in anger and his
    hands clenched and unclenched at his sides as he flung open the stairwell door and
    started down the curving stone steps to the bowels of Anubeion for he had taken in the
    delicious odors coming from the dining room.
    Flickering rushes placed along the old stone wall lit the way down the serpentine
    stairs. The smell of resin wafted through the air and the atmosphere grew cooler the
    lower the taricheutes descended. The cuffs of his white trousers dragged over the wet
    stone and in places the steps were so slick he had to reach out to grasp the iron railing
    stapled to the wall.
    In the distance came the sound of water lapping against an unseen shore and the
    tang of salt filled the air. Now and again low moans would echo against the stone and
    piercing shrieks—far off and sounding hopeless, terrified—would reach the taricheutes’
    ears. With each new sound, the taricheutes would shiver and dig his fingernails into the
    creases of his hands. Such woeful sounds were part and parcel of his profession.
    Darkness loomed up at the bottom of the stone steps and Bahru was careful to
    stretch his foot forward to feel for the level ground ahead of him. He stepped cautiously
    around a massive stone jutting up before him for the faint glimmer of light flickered
    beyond.
    The closer the taricheutes came to the light, the colder the air became. He was
    shivering by the time he reached a small room with a low ceiling in which several
    people sat on gilded chairs.
    “You took your time in joining us.”
    Prince Khenty’s voice was pitched low and threaded through with annoyance.
    “I would have been here sooner, Your Grace, but—”
    “Sehkmem, rise and come to me,” Khenty cut him off.
    A young man got up from one of the chairs and came forward. His eyes were dull,
    his face expressionless and the loincloth he wore barely covered his thin hips. Barefoot,
    he made no sound as he walked to the prince.
    Khenty took the young man in his arms and lifted him, carrying him easily into The
    Pure Place to a long stone table that stood in the center of the next room. Placing his
    burden on the cold slab, the prince put his hand over the young man’s face. “Thy brow
    is under the protection of Anubis, and thy head and face, O beautiful one, are before the
    holy Hawk. The Great God looketh upon thee and he leadeth thee along the path of
    happiness. Sepulchral meals are bestowed upon thee, and he overthroweth for thee
    thine enemies, setting them under thy feet in the presence of the Great Company of the
    Gods who dwell in the House of the Great Aged One which is in Anu.”
    A slow exhalation of breath issued from the young man’s mouth and his eyes
    closed slowly. He lay perfectly still, death gathering him to Her bosom in the blink of an
    eye.
    51
    Charlotte Boyett-Compo
    Black as the night, a large man came from the shadows, startling Bahru. In the
    giant’s hand was an obsidian knife, the gilded hilt all but hidden in the massive palm.
    “Prepare his body with care and gentleness, paraschistes,” Khenty said quietly, and
    stood back, his arms crossed over his bare chest. “Taricheutes, begin your
    preparations.”
    Bahru bowed low and set about taking off his white trousers and kameez until he
    was bare of all save the white linen kilt that covered his hips. The paunch of his belly
    extended over the waistband of the kilt and jiggled as he turned to take the instruments
    of his trade down from shelves ranged along the stone walls.
    Khenty looked with distaste upon the embalmer who had been sent to him from
    Asaraba. Not only did the man’s protruding gut and spindly legs offend the prince,
    Bahru’s adherence to the old ways of shaving away all his body hair emphasized the
    taricheutes’ effeminate nature.
    “Things have changed a great deal over the centuries, haven’t they, Your Grace?”
    Bahru asked as he laid his