Females of Vulvar Page 9
By the time Melriel appeared at the head of the stairs, calling me to the evening meal, I still had more than half the journal left to read. Reluctantly, I closed the book and put it aside, knowing I’d not likely have the chance to continue reading until the following day.
◆◆◆
After the meal, we were back in Melriel’s bedchamber, where we spent another hour or more. Again she did not bind me. Again, to her obvious delight, I satisfied her carnal yearnings while my own grew to almost unbearable proportions. By the time I had appeased her, and she had dismissed me for the night, I felt desperate for relief. I despised the hated tube even more than before. The frustration only strengthened my resolve that no matter what, I would recover the artifact for the Goddess-Queens and earn my freedom, or would die trying.
◆◆◆
The following morning after breakfast, Melriel retired to her office to study her religious texts, leaving me free to open the journal once again. After another dozen pages, I learned that the war had gone badly for the author’s people. I speculated he wrote of what Vulvarians call the great war, though I was certain that term didn’t come into usage until long after the conflict had ended. It was clear the writer feared his side was headed for defeat. Finally, another ten pages later, the object of my search, the item I felt confident the Goddess-Queens were interested in finding and recovering, was mentioned.
Chapter 11
The Riddle
It seemed clear to me that the journal’s owner had counted on one of his countrymen finding the journal and eventually recovering the hidden artifact. He had expected an invasion to end the war, not an obliteration. He was concerned about some nameless object falling into the hands of his enemies. Oddly, he never described the object or offered any details about what it was. He only mentioned sealing the item, which he referred to as the “feather of truth” in a metal box. But he gave the dimensions of the box in the hieratic writing of the ancient Egyptians.
I could only speculate the units of measurement he used were the same as those used by the ancient Egyptians on Earth. The principal unit of measurement had been the royal cubit, a length Egyptologists know is 52.4 centimeters, approximating the length of a man’s forearm. The royal cubit was comprised of seven palm widths, each of four digits of thumb width, so they could divide it into 28 digits.
Mentally, I translated the dimensions of the metal box as closely as possible into the metric equivalents of Earth. I came up with 12 centimeters in width, 18 centimeters in length, and 10 centimeters in depth, roughly the size of a thick paperback book on Earth. That suggested the artifact inside the box was relatively small. It also meant the box could have been easily concealed in almost an infinite number of places.
The author included crude hieroglyph sketches of three ancient Egyptian symbols. The first was of the Eye of Horus, also known as the wadjet and sometimes referred to as the “all-seeing eye,” a symbol of protection, royal power, and good health.
The second symbol depicted was the ankh, a sacred icon depicted in royal funerary scenes reinforcing the close connection between the pharaohs and the gods. It resembled a cross with a loop at the top.
The flail and crook was the third symbol depicted, an ancient Egyptian symbol of royalty, majesty, and dominion. The author indicated all three symbols were engraved in the same order on the top of the metal box containing the relic. That would simplify identification should the box be found, assuming it was a unique container in its time, not some commonplace, mass-produced item.
After the passage describing the container, the journal writer then wrote about how to find the location where he had or had at least intended to conceal the box. As I continued reading, my heart sank.
It seemed that the enemy, into whose hands the writer feared the artifact might fall, spoke a different language. But, worried the enemy might have the capacity to translate the language used in the journal, the author stated he was not giving simple instructions to the location of the hidden metal container. Instead, believing only a compatriot, someone of his own culture might understand it, he gave only a clue to its location in the form of a riddle. It would then be necessary to find the location identified in the riddle to find the box containing the artifact.
What I feared most was despite my rather extensive knowledge of the Egyptian culture and language from Earth, there might be sufficient imperceptible differences between that and the original ancient Vulvarian versions that I might not accurately solve the riddle.
The riddle or clue read: The feather of truth rests with the one who restored the brother of Set.
Given my knowledge of ancient Egyptian religion and mythology, I was confident the “one” mentioned in the clue was the goddess Isis. In ancient Egyptian mythology, the god Geb and goddess Nut mated and gave birth to two sons, Osiris and Set and two daughters, Isis and Nephthys. Though brothers and sisters, Osiris married Isis and Set his sister Nephthys.
Osiris showed himself a thoughtful and judicious god. He was given rule of the world which he administrated efficiently, co-ruling with his sister-wife Isis. Envious of his brother’s success, Set conspired with others to murder Osiris by sealing his brother inside an elaborate chest which he then threw into the Nile River. With his brother dead, Set assumed the rule of the world.
Refusing to believe her husband was dead, Isis went searching for him, finally finding his coffin inside a tree at Byblos. She brought his body back to Egypt and set about gathering the herbs and making the potions that would bring Osiris back to life. But Set discovered the coffin where Isis had hidden it. Tearing the coffin open, Set cut the body of Osiris into fourteen pieces, which he then flung all along the length of the Nile River for the crocodiles to eat so that Isis could never find all the pieces. Set then returned to his palace to rule.
When Isis returned and found the coffin destroyed and the body of her husband gone, she and her sister Nephthys who felt sorry for her, began searching the land for Osiris’ parts. Finally, they found and assembled all the body parts except for the penis, which had been eaten by a fish. Isis then created with magic a temporary replacement part for the missing phallus, brought Osiris back to life, and mated with her husband, becoming pregnant with their son Horus. While Isis had successfully restored Osiris because he was incomplete, he could not rule the world as he had before. He instead descended to the underworld to become the righteous judge and ruler of the land of the dead.
As long as the ancient Egyptian myth from Earth was the same as that of the ancient Vulvarian race, it had to be Isis, the journal writer referenced in the clue as the one who had restored the brother of Set. The problem was locating Isis, a mythical goddess. Was the writer referring to a statute or some other likeness of the goddess? If so, where could it be found in Saba?
It seemed obvious the journal writer had intended that someone among his compatriots be able to find and recover the box containing the relic if he didn’t survive the war. Logic suggested then that Isis in whatever form must have been in a location people of that time would have been familiar with. Perhaps it was a statute of Isis in a public area that people passed by regularly, a place anyone who understood “the one who restored the brother of Set” part of the clue would also recognize as the location where the box had been hidden. But, until I arrived in the city formerly known as Saba, I wouldn't have any idea where to look.
I had no information about what the city had looked like at the time the journal writer had hidden the artifact, or even whether the city might have been completely reduced to mere ruins and rubble during the great war. My only hope lay in the fact that the Goddess-Queens apparently had reason to believe the artifact could be found, or else they wouldn’t have offered me the assignment. That thought raised more questions for me, questions about the Goddess-Queens.
What kind of beings were the Goddess-Queens? Why, if the artifact held such great value, were they unwilling to go to Saba and recover it themselves? Clearly, they were far more technolo
gically advanced than anyone on Vulvar. Were they physically unable to mount the expedition on their own? Hadn’t my mother once told me she didn’t believe the Goddess-Queens traveled on their spaceships, but only controlled the ships remotely from their mythical home on Mount Voln? Perhaps they were as physically incapable of traveling to Saba as they were in crewing a spacecraft.
The fact they had apparently communicated with the Chief Priestess of Thiva about the artifact, suggested the Goddess-Queens existed, at least in some definition of the term. But that didn’t necessarily mean they were humanoid. For all I or anyone knew, they might be nothing more than some program running on some advanced computer left behind by an advanced civilization from the distant past. The fact that the journal indicated the people of Saba had been far more technologically advanced than present-day Vulvarians lent some credibility to such a theory.
I read the remaining pages of the journal, finding no other clues. The writer ended with an exhortation to anyone reading the journal to diligently seek out and to recover the hidden feather of truth after the war had ended and to put it to its intended use. I could only surmise the use of the artifact would have been obvious to a finder from the time it had been hidden. Of course, the author could never have imagined the search for the thing hidden would become the task of an archaeologist from Earth some 1,600 years after his demise.
Chapter 12
The Quest Begins
Time passed quickly. The day the expedition was to depart Thiva for Port Abrago soon arrived. Melriel and I returned to the Hall of Priestesses to meet up with the rest of our party, the six warriors, and their commander my mother had selected to accompany us on the quest.
Gaylia, the Chief Priestess, and my mother, Laena, were outside the hall to see us off. First, Gaylia took me aside, so I might tell her all I’d learned from the journal. I returned the book to her keeping. Since the pages were ancient and fragile, I had no intention of taking it along on a difficult journey. Besides, I had committed to memory the riddle and other details I thought important.
My mother introduced me to the commander of the warriors, whose name I learned was Idril. Idril had long scarlet, wavy hair that cascaded from beneath the silver helmet that sat above her long, attractive, and confident face. Darting gray eyes, set delicately within their sockets, looked at me warily but seemed at the same time to take in all that was happening about us in the street.
Idril wore nothing but the light sliver armour of the Vulvarian warrior and sandals. There was a tall shiny collar around her throat that protected the neck, a molded steel breastplate that covered her breasts, a gleaming cuirass, body armour that protects the torso of the wearer at the waist and hips, and polished steel greaves covering the shins and knees. A wide leather belt about her shapely waist held a leather scabbard and the short double-edged Vulvarian sword called the Rakir.
Idril was a head taller than my own six feet. She possessed a particularly fit and attractive body, which thanks to the trifling coverage provided by the minimalist armour I could well see and appreciate.
Already mounted on their baacaases, the other six warriors all looked similar to their commander. They were all tall, fit, perfectly proportioned females with flowing manes of hair of various colors protruding from beneath their polished helmets. They wore the same nominal armour. The only difference in their accouterments from those of Idril was there helmets were smooth while Idril’s had a crest of stiff baacaas hair dyed red, the color of the warrior's caste. Each carried a round metal shield emblazoned with the “V” like the one I’d seen mounted on the wall of my former apartment. They each also held the Jorja, the seven-foot Vulvarian spear with a hardwood shaft topped by a double-edged pointed steel blade.
“Hail, Tobias Hart,” Idril said.
“Hail, commander,” I said.
“At the outset, to bar any misunderstandings, the Chief Priestess has given me full authority over this expedition,” Idril said. “Only in matters that pertain specifically to the conduct of the search and steps to recover the object of the quest will I defer to your judgment.”
I smiled and nodded. “As a mere male and slave, I expected no less, commander.”
Idril smiled tightly. “Then, we should have no problems getting along.”
I realized Melriel was at my side. At a glance, I saw she was not well pleased. Perhaps she had noticed my eyes lingering on Idril and her warriors longer than she considered appropriate.
“Close your mouth, slave,” Melriel said. “Before insects enter and make a home of it.”
“Yes, mistress,” I said, feeling myself blushing.
“Mount up,” Idril said. “We ride for Port Abrago.”
As she turned to climb onto her baacaas, I saw that the armour did nothing to conceal her perfectly shaped, fetching behind. Despite myself, I felt a stirring in the tube, the beginning of something which I expected would not make for comfortable travel.
A slave led over saddled baacaases for Melriel and me. My mother stepped in front of me, embraced me tightly, and pressed her lips to my cheek.
“Come back safely to me, my son,” she said before releasing me.
“Yes, mother,” I said. “I’ll do my best.”
After being handed the reins, I clambered up onto the saddle a bit awkwardly while Melriel mounted her beast quite effortlessly. Another slave handed the lead rope of another baacaas to the last warrior in the column. The slaves had packed all our baggage onto a wooden frame strapped to the back of the animal. Idril took her place at the head of the column.
“Forward,” she said, and we rode out of Thiva at a canter on the road to Port Abrago.
◆◆◆
Idril generally kept our troop to a walk, but there were some periods of trotting followed by brief stops to feed and water the beasts. We allowed the animals to graze on even the shortest breaks. She also required that the company dismount and lead our baacaases at intervals I estimated to be about every third hour of travel. We took a midday meal break beside a stream, dining on dried meat and some stale brown bread.
It took most of the day for our party to reach Port Abrago. About an hour before dusk, we entered the city and proceeded straight to the docks to board our waiting ship. The vessel was, as my mother had described, reminiscent of a wooden eighteenth-century Earth sloop-of-war. The ship was double-masted with a mixture of gaff and square rigging.
An officer met our party at the head of the gangplank. She introduced herself to Idril as Captain Sasha, master of the Vulvarian vessel Jaxsu. Tall and lean with long flowing raven hair, the captain wore what looked like a dark leather corset over a pair of thick black tights and tall leather boots with tops that ended just below her knees.
“I’ll have one of my crew show your warriors to a stable where someone will care for your animals during the voyage,” Captain Sasha said.
“We’re bringing the animals with us,” Idril said brusquely. “We don’t know what distances we will have to cover, and we’ll need the baacaases.”
“I will not board the beasts,” Captain Sasha said without a blink, crossing her arms. “My superiors have tasked me with sailing to some long forsaken port for which no charts exist, and nothing is known. I have no plans to risk my vessel by entering an unknown harbor and attempting to dock at some decrepit quay. There will be no possibility of offloading your animals. You must leave them behind.”
“How do you expect us to travel once we arrive at our destination?” Idril said, clearly annoyed by the ship captain’s manner and tone.
“My crew will land you by longboat wherever you wish,” Captain Sasha said. “From that point, I suppose you will walk.”
“That’s unacceptable, captain,” Idril said.
“Then I invite you to seek transportation elsewhere,” Captain Sasha said. “Though I expect convincing another ship’s master to sail to a place called the City of the Dead will not be easy.”
For a moment, I thought the two women would come to blows, bo
th accustomed to having things their way. But Idril relented. I expected she realized that Captain Sasha had been correct about the small chance of finding alternative transportation. Idril may have commanded the expedition, but there was no doubt who commanded the Jaxsu.
“Very well,” Idril smirked. “Then please have your crew show my warriors where to stable the animals.”
“My pleasure,” Captain Sasha said sarcastically.
Putting a thumb and middle finger of one hand to her mouth, she discharged a sharp, ear-splitting whistle.
A tall, rangy woman appeared instantly beside her, almost as if she had materialized out of thin air. The woman had on a baggy white shirt, long, loose striped canvas trousers, a vest, and a bandana covering her long, stringy brown hair.
“Escort the warriors and their beasts to the stable, Nilerea,” Captain Sasha said. “When you return, help them bring the baggage aboard and show them to their quarters.”
“Aye, captain,” the woman called Nilerea said, heading down the gangplank as she motioned to the warriors to follow.
“I’ll have someone escort you to your cabin,” Captain Sasha said to Idril and Melriel. “One of my crew will take your slave to the hold and secure him in chains.”
“That won’t be necessary, captain,” Melriel said. “My slave stays with me.”
Captain Sasha gave me a long stare.
“Given the way he has been ogling me, it seems this one is no eunuch,” she said. “If he’s still got his balls, I won’t allow him to roam about the ship making mischief.”
“He won’t be roaming about,” Melriel said sharply. “He will be under my capable supervision at all times. And he wears the tube. He isn’t a threat to anyone.”
The captain looked dubious. “It’s your business if you wish to bunk with the filthy wretch,” she said. “But, you better square it with your other cabin mate here.”