Page 19 of A Thousand Nights Before Dawn
Zahra sighed, taking the lead. “Yes, my King.”
5
The Hidden Library
Zahra led the way through the city, taking great care to avoid the marketplace and any major streets where the Great Overseer could be. Namir took the lead once they neared Bahiti’s estate, and Zahra slowed her pace as Namir walked up to a tall, brown stallion. The horse wore an exquisite fabric embroidered with images of Re.
“Greetings, Victory.” Namir patted the horse’s snout, and the horse replied with a soft huff. “Do you think you could carry two of us back to Inebu-hedj?”
Zahra paused. “Victory?”
“Victory of Henen-nesut,” Namir corrected, his hood falling back and revealing his black curls. “He is Victory only to me.”
Zahra nodded in understanding, unsurprised that even the King’s horse had a title.
Namir hopped onto Victory’s back. “Are you coming?”
Zahra glanced at the horse’s back. “Where will I sit?”
“Behind me.” Namir gestured with his head. “I would borrow amedjayto escort you there, but I would rather not catch my uncle’s eye.”
Zahra stepped closer to Victory, clutching the sides of her dress. The stallion was massive compared to Zahra. There were no rocks or other points of leverage for Zahra to use. Getting on Victory at all seemed impossible.
Namir cleared his throat. “I know it may seem as if we have endless time for you to use. However?—”
“Yes, yes,” Zahra interrupted. “I am going.”
Namir replied with a glare, and Zahra resisted the urge to return the look. She took in a deep breath, stepping back and readying herself to jump. With as mighty a leap as she could manage, Zahra launched herself upon the horse’s rear. Victory neighed uncomfortably in response, moving forward. Zahra held onto the rope securing the fabric seat to the horse, her legs dangling as she struggled not to fall off.
Namir sighed and grabbed her waist, hoisting her onto the horse. Zahra let out a cry of surprise, moving her hands further up on the rope. With some careful maneuvering, she found herself in a sitting position.
Namir regarded her with annoyance once she had situated herself. “Are you on?”
Zahra looked about herself, nodding. “I think so.”
Namir prompted Victory forward, and Zahra let out a squeal. Her arms flew forward, lacing themselves around Namir’s midsection. He flinched at her touch, but he did not pull away as she buried her face in the fabric of his cloak.
Zahra’s curls flew in a flurry of tangles as she held tight to the King. She had ridden a horse when she was young, but her father had gone no faster than a trot. On Namir’s steed, the world raced by in a blur. She could perceive no more than the vague shapesof the people and animals of Illahun, and in a few moments they—and the city itself—disappeared from view.
Wonder filled Zahra’s eyes, and she tore away from Namir’s back to look. The roads of Aur were beautiful. She had traveled beyond Illahun many times, of course, but she was always too busy tending to Bahiti’s daughters to have the chance to see its beauty.
Tall trees of all kinds sprouted from the ground, feasting on underground aquifers and the fertile soil brought by the Iteru. In the cities they passed, Aurans and Ionians alike prepared for the celebrations that evening by hanging beautiful decorations and making delicious treats. The sand illuminated the kingdom with gold, making even the barren parts of Aur equal in beauty to the mineral-rich waters of the Iteru.
It was not for some time that Inebu-hedj finally came into view. Victory slowed near a large building downhill from thepr-aaand the temple. Tall pillars covered in symbols and art marked the entrance, and atop the roof sat a large statue of a regally dressed man with the head of an ibis.
Zahra knew this was a depiction of Djehuty, thenetjerwho gifted writing and language to the Aurans. In her culture, she knew him by the name of Hermes, though he had winged shoes rather than the head of a bird. Among Aurans and Ionians alike, he was worshiped heavily by scribes, scholars, and priests that dealt with sacred texts.
Namir dismounted, leaving Zahra to balance on the horse alone. A young servant boy approached, taking the reins and Namir’s cloak in one hand, and extending his other hand to Zahra. She hesitated to accept his help, but Namir was already walking away. She slipped off the horse, thanking the boy as she ran to catch up with Namir.
Namir was already halfway up the steps to the entrance when Zahra arrived at his side. He regarded her with nothing more than a passing glance. “Have you ever been here before?”
“No, my King.” Most people were not allowed in the Pharaohs’ library, especially Ionians who were in debt.
Two armedmedjaygreeted them in front of a pair of large stone doors.
Namir nodded to themedjay. “Good Khepri to you both.”
Themedjaybowed their heads in response and placed their right hands over their chests. “My King.”
