Od had little notion how long it had been, for he had faded in and out as he rode the indefatigable camel. He had used up his water and hung on, unable to stop and dismount by the river. His thighs were raw and blistered from the constant abrasion against the animal's hide. But now it was the evening of what he hoped was the first day after the first night, and there was the vanguard of what had to be Sesostris' returning army.
In a moment he was surrounded by soldiers. "The regent!" he rasped. "Message—only for him."
They must have decided that he was legitimate, because they helped him dismount and half carried him to the command tent. A warrior stood there. "I am Sesostris."
Od looked at him, but his eyes were so bleary that he couldn't make out the details. But the straightness of the stance and the authority of the voice satisfied him. "A plot to kill your father," he blurted. "And to kill you as you enter the city unawares. You must act before they strike!"
"Who?"
"I know the name of only one. I overheard him talking with another plotter in the night."
"When?"
"Tomorrow night."
"What day? Say the day."
Od said the day.
"That is today," the regent snapped.
Od sagged. He must have ridden two days instead of one. He stared at the man, appalled. "Then I am too late," he said, dismayed.
Sesostris studied him. Od realized that the regent had to be a good judge of men, in order to be competent in command. He was deciding whether to trust the information Od had brought.
The regent snapped his fingers. A man appeared. "Summon and equip my elite guard for immediate foray. Do not tell my staff."
"Sir—"
"Immediately." The officer left the tent.
Sesostris spoke to Od. "Speak to no one else of this. If there are traitors around my father, there may be traitors around me. So I must act before they know. Without others knowing I know."
Od nodded. It made sense.
The regent snapped his fingers again. Another officer appeared. "Care for this man and convey him in a wagon with the main force. He is to do no work and is not to be questioned before arrival at the city."
The officer stepped forward to take Od by the arm. His touch was firm yet gentle. "This way, traveler."
Od let himself be guided out. He had come too late, yet the regent was taking action. Maybe he hoped that there would be a delay in the assassination plans, so that he could still get there in time to thwart it. Od hoped the regent succeeded.
Time became indistinct again. A male nurse tended to him as he rode in a bumpy wagon. "You are dehydrated, sunburned, and raw," the man said. "But otherwise healthy. These salves will ease your sores, this water will restore your fluids, and the canopy on this wagon will protect you from the sun. But you will look like one risen from the dead for a while, until your sores heal."
"I got through," Od said. "That is what matters."
"Yes. The regent has confirmed your news, and is on his way to handle his business."
Od wasn't sure how much the man knew, so he was noncommittal. It could be a ruse to make him blurt out what he should not. "That is good." He slept.
It seemed like forever, but the nurse informed him that it was only four days, as the army traveled at its regular pace to the city, arriving on schedule. That was important, for whatever spies the plotters had in the army believed that nothing had changed. But the regent had arrived two days ahead of schedule.
Od, walking but still wincing from his healing thigh sores, was ushered into the regent's presence again. "Because of you, I was able to surprise and rout the conspirators and secure my throne," he said. "Those who are not yet dead are wishing for death." That meant that the torturers were extracting the last information about the rebellion. "Name your reward."
"Lord, did you save your father?"
"No. I have only his letter to me, composed by his adviser from the remnants of his fate. It says that the killers came upon him in the night, bypassing the guards by the treachery of courtiers and junior wives. He leaped from his bed like a desert snake to battle unarmed against his attackers. 'But no one is strong at night; no one can fight alone; no success is possible without you.' I was not there in time, and so he died."
"Then I failed," Od said. "I deserve no reward."
The new king considered. "Ask of me some minor immediate boon, and I will decide later how else you will be rewarded for the effort you made on my behalf."
Od considered, for to decline such a request could be taken as an insult. "There is a boy named Chip who helped me get on my way. He works at the construction site south of the city. I fear the foreman, Bub, who is the conspirator I overheard, will harm him."
"That foreman has already fled to Syria," the king said. "The lad will be rewarded. But this is not a boon for you."
He had to try again. "I wish only to be rejoined with my associates, and to resume my part on the Osiris play, when I am able."
"Ah, yes. Isis is lovely, is she not?"
"Lovely," Od agreed. He had dreamed many times of the way Avalanche had suggested that she was interested in having more of a fling with him than she had in the past. Her attention was fickle, and of course in his present state of ugliness she would not touch him, but the dream remained fond.
"I believe I am ready for a moment of diversion," Sesostris said. "It has been a wearing four days. I will bring the players here. I believe the events of recent days disrupted the schedule, and the final act may not yet have been performed."
Od hadn't thought of that. "My part is merely to lie in a coffin as if dead. I think I can handle that much."
The king laughed. Then he made a small signal with one hand. Servants came to lead Od away. They garbed him appropriately, which meant stripping him naked, and put him in a curtained alcove. There he remained, covered by a drape, as the players assembled for the command performance. He heard their hurried comments; they were thrilled to have this chance to play for the king, but surprised that he should ask for only the last act. They hauled the coffin onstage. Od knew that it contained fourteen pieces of rather bloody meat. The shock value of the scene was considerable. After the play was done, the meat would be roasted for a feast.
The king and his favored advisers and courtiers and servants entered the chamber and settled themselves; Od heard their murmurings. The play commenced. "Isis has rescued the body of her beloved Osiris," Talena said. "She has now gone to make arrangements for the funeral which will free Osiris' soul and allow him to go to the underworld, where he will become the god of judgment over the dead and weigh the souls of men."
"But in her absence, the god Set came upon the coffin," Heath said. "He had been suspicious, and his spies had alerted him when Isis returned to Egypt. So he opened the coffin and spied the body of his enemy therein." The pipes squealed angrily and the drums beat like thunder. Od could not see the stage, but he knew from countless performances what was happening there, and could see it clearly in his mind's eye: Set stalked up to the coffin and flung it open and glared down into it.
"His rage at this spectacle was unbounded," Talena said. "The very sight of Osiris caused black clouds to form around him." For this effect, an assistant waved a black sheet around Set; the audience understood.
"He tore the body into fourteen pieces," Heath said, as the music made awful ripping sounds. "And scattered them all through the land of Egypt." Now came the gore: Set reached into the coffin and hauled out a dripping chunk of meat. There was an appreciative gasp from one of the servants. He flung it across the stage. It landed with a thud. He took out another, and threw it in another direction. He continued, until thirteen chunks littered the stage. Then he fished around in the coffin for one more: a huge phallus. There was a murmur of laughter in the court; this was so grisly it was funny. Set hurled that right off the stage, into the audience, where a man dressed as a fish caught it. Then Set stalked off the stage.
"When Isis returned," Talena said, "she was appalled to discover what had happened. The body of her lover had been despoiled again, and lost. But she refused to be dissuaded. She set out in a papyrus boat to recover all the parts of Osiris." Now Isis got into a small boat-form and scooted around the stage, picking up the grisly pieces one by one and returning them to the coffin.
"Wherever she located a piece," Heath said, "she built a temple to Osiris." Stagehands set small model temples at the site of each meat fragment.
"Until at last she had them all," Talena said. "Except one. The phallus had been swallowed by a Nile Carp and was beyond recovery." The fish actor held up his prize, then made swimming motions as he departed. Everyone knew what a tough fish the Nile Carp was; it bred well, could drive out other fish, and survive for weeks in drought by burrowing into the mud. Now they knew why: it possessed the most prized flesh of a god.
"So Isis had an artificial phallus made," Heath said. "The god Thoth helped." The god Thoth came onstage, carrying a wooden phallus. "Isis took it and set it carefully in the coffin, in just the right place." There was another murmur in the audience as the goddess reached down into the coffin, adjusting it. Isis set great store by that particular part of a god.
"Then they had the funeral ceremony," Talena said. Stagehands enclosed the coffin with curtains. This was the point at which the meat was removed and the actor entered the coffin. Od got up and intercepted the actor who was supposed to substitute for him in this scene. The man stared, surprised, then backed away. He surely had not been sure whether Od still lived, so this was like seeing a man return from the dead, appropriately. Od climbed into the smelly box and pulled the drape over himself, as a shroud.
"But before they put Osiris' corpse in the vault," Heath said, "Isis had one more thing to do. She had to bid parting to the body of the god she loved, in her own way." The goddess drew away the curtains to reveal the coffin, which was now propped up at an angle so that the audience could see inside. All that was visible was the shroud; the audience did not yet know about the substitution.
"She lay with the mummy," Talena said. Isis drew off the shroud and stood there looking down at the restored naked figure. Her mouth dropped open in surprise. The audience was surprised too, seeing that there was now a real man inside; they assumed that the surprise of the actress was feigned. He was fairly realistic for a dead man, with his wild hair, flaking skin, and sores on the inner thighs.
Then Isis made an expression the audience couldn't see, and drew off her dress. She turned, showing off her perfect body as she always did, then climbed onto the corpse so as to simulate copulation, as she had done so many times before. Od had always enjoyed this part, pretending in his fancy that it was real. The audiences always responded well, too.
But this time her simulation was remarkably realistic. She kissed him hard on the mouth, and whispered endearments in his ear. "So, my love, you return from the dead for me! I will make you glad." She shifted her body, so that her smooth scented breasts caressed his chest. "But you dare not move, lest you disrupt the play." He knew that; the point of it was that the god was dead. Still, her warmth and contact made him react. Oh, how he desired her!
"And so great was the potency of Osiris," Heath said, pausing to allow the action to continue.
"And so great the fertility of Isis," Talena continued, pausing similarly.
"That even dead, even with a phallus made of wood, the god was able to impregnate the goddess," Heath said.
Isis reached down and found his stiffening member. She fitted it into her warm slick avenue with the delightful expertise she had, then slid down so as to entirely surround that supposedly wooden phallus. Surely to the audience it looked like a very fine emulation. She rocked on him, causing the connection to slide in and out somewhat, and clenched and released with her internal muscles. Even wood might have produced some sap for that! "Come, my love," she whispered, nibbling on his ear. "Give me your gift of love. I long for your godly essence." She pressed her breasts even more tightly against him, and inhaled. At the same time she caught his wrists with her hands and drew them around her sleek torso so that his hands fell on the hot mounds of her buttocks, his fingers sliding into the artistically curving crevice between them. She flexed her bottom encouragingly.
Od couldn't help it. He geysered into her, his body still but his member spurting recklessly. She had made the emulation turn powerfully real. She kissed him as the pulses came, surge after surge, drawing from him everything he had to give. It seemed like eternity, compressed into a moment.
"In this manner the goddess conceived her son Horus," Talena said. Her voice had a slight quaver, as if she had just realized something extraordinary. The awed murmur from the audience suggested a spreading similar awareness. Od even heard a chuckle from the direction of the king.
"Who was destined to grow up to avenge his father," Heath said. Od realized that this could be taken as Sesostris avenging his treacherously slain father. How well it fit together!
"She left the body, carrying her new child within," Talena said. Isis kissed him once more, and disengaged. But, in a final act of naughtiness, she picked up his now-limp penis and aligned it so as to be quite straight. Then she spread the shroud over him again.
"And Osiris' spirit traveled to the underworld," Heath said. "Where he governs today. Thus concludes the history of Osiris and Isis."
The two narrators bowed. There was enthusiastic applause. Od knew that the king had found the play more relevant and diverting than anticipated. So had Od himself.
Sesostris took the name Kheperkare and ruled thereafter for thirty-five years. His capital city of Ith-toui was south of present-day Cairo, but no longer exists. It was a time of general well-being in Egypt, and the arts flourished, including, perhaps, staged dramas of the sagas of the gods. It is not known who actually got word to Sesostris about the assassination of his father, but someone did, and his quick reaction enabled him to squelch the rebellion at its outset. Thus the Twelfth Dynasty continued, and so did the Middle Kingdom. And the cult of Osiris flourished.