Infinite 01 - Infinite Sacrifice

place my new religion on the altar, where I read every passage and have all my prayers answered.

Chapter 4
    Bastet and I meet four more times before my month-long rotation is complete. Whenever the dream chamber is empty and Bastet can get away from Nebu’s watchful eye, we meet under Nun’s surveillance. I hate leaving the temple to walk back home. Leaving the fertile black lands to travel to the edges of the sterile red lands of my fathers. Reaching the threshold of the white-walled fortress that surrounds the city, I force myself to step onto the sparkling limestone pathway that leads up to the lush country villas. The thought of not seeing her again for three months is painful. I touch my wife only in times of extreme desperation, and even then, I think of her: she who consumes me.
    Twenty-one days into my prison sentence, I seek solitude in the shadows of the date and fig trees in my estate’s garden. As I watch the ducks dive among the lotus flowers, a message comes from the temple. It bears Nebu’s writing,
    Sokaris, come at once.
    I call for Nun to pack up my things and order him to hurry. Running most of the way in the midday heat, I arrive at the temple by dusk. Frustrated at the time it takes to be shaved and cleansed, I rush into Nebu’s harem room and become frantic when I see Bastet is not beside her.
    “What is wrong? Why have you sent for me?”
    Nebu, surprised by my haste and paranoia, says, “Calm yourself, Sokaris. This is not a matter over which you should be so alarmed.”
    She snaps for a servant to bring me a cushion. I force myself to relax enough to bend into a sitting position.
    I ask, “Where is Bastet? She is usually at your side.”
    She picks up a gold hand mirror to check how tightly her servants curled her wig. After testing the bounce of the curls that line her forehead and running her thin fingers down the long braids that hide beneath the curls, she nods in acceptance. “Bastet is why I summoned you. She has failed us greatly.”
    “What do you mean?”
    She points for the ebony-and-gold cosmetic box to be brought to her. “She has been deceiving us and Serapis.”
    My blood thickens, and she has the nerve to fix her kohl as I wait.
    “She is with child, Sokaris.”
    “With child? That is impossible!” I can’t sit.
    Not realizing how I meant that exclamation, she says, “Obviously, she has spit in the face of all that is sacred and has lain with a man. A man within this very temple, since she is not permitted outside these walls.”
    “How are you sure?”
    “I am obligated to test my Royal Daughter’s urine monthly.”
    Thinking of the barley-and-wheat test I ask, “The grains grew?”
    “Yes, and I tested her twice to be sure.”
    “Where is she now?” I begin to pace.
    “I notified the Pharaoh’s magistrate, Overseer of the Six Great Mansions, and the guards have taken her away. Her trial is tomorrow.”
    What am I to do?
    “Sokaris, we must find the man responsible for this.” She puts the brush away and snaps the lid shut.
    I shake my head, feigning thoughtfulness. “I will go to incubate at once to see what I can scry.”
    I rush to the dream chamber, rip the sheets back, and fall asleep to try to save her.
    Bastet is on a great ship, alone, acting as steersman. She looks worried and is crying, “Sokaris! Sokaris!”
    I shout, “I will save you!” as I pull my arm up and prick myself deep with a thorn.
    Instantly, Nun is up on the deck steering the massive ship, and I tell Bastet, “Jump to me!”
    She steps backward to gain speed and leaps to me on the riverbank. We both watch as Nun and the ship sail away downstream.
    I wake and kiss Bes, carved above my head, and say, “Thank you! Thank you!”
    I scribble down an entry and backdate it forty-two days. I leave the temple and clap to wake up Nun, sleeping on the stone walkway after waiting for me all night. Under a red sky in the east, I run to the mansion where Bastet is being judged.
    ∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
    I rush past the alabaster sphinx guarding the road that leads to the Pharaoh’s palace. The burnt landscape slowly turns green as I near the mouth of the Nile, where the imposing jaws of the courthouse looms. The mansion stands sternly against the happy backdrop of the banks of the Nile, where peasant women beat their laundry against rocks, servants fill clay vessels carrying them away on their heads, and children splash and play games as their mothers watch for