Yellow Silk, Red Scarab

Things are never exactly what they seem…

"What's your name, Medjay?" the Sanctifier interrupted Sobek's thread of thoughts, "I'm Renpet."

Sobek didn't like religious inquisitors, but Renpet had arrived in the cellar first. Such nuisance.

The Nubian grunted, "Sobek", before turning his attention back to the torn piece of yellow silk stuck to the empty barrel stave. For instance, he resumed his investigation, barrels can be used beyond their original purpose. The registry claimed this one carried myrrh for the Pharaoh's offering at the festival.

"Protector," Renpet persisted in her prattle.

"Uh?", Sobek turned to the young woman.

"Your name's meaning. Suits you."

An educated girl. Sobek scratched an itch under his turban. Still, she should at least pretend to help. He waved the dyed cloth,

"There never was any myrrh: someone smuggled themselves into the temple inside this barrel."

Renpet snickered, "Some Medjay you are! This rag could've been shorn from the carrier's sleeve while loading the goods!"

Sobek's veins thumped on his forehead.

"Not a mere rag," he shook the clue to her veiled face, "Pure saffron! Silk! Too fine for workers."

"So? Inventory mix-up; the barrel contained textile."

"Chiffon isn't transported in barrels," Sobek chased a fly away with a shrug.

Taking the fabric, the silly girl walked away from him. "Why would someone travel all the way down the Nile in a barrel to enter Karnak? Everyone is welcome in the temple during the festivities."

"Except the Pharaoh's enemies," Sobek wiped his brow, contemplating his own disfavor. Jolting upwards, he glanced at Renpet, who now crouched over the dirt, her back to him. She hadn't heard. He let a sigh out: how careless, blabbering so in front of a Pharaoh's Sanctifier...

When Renpet rose to face him, a red scarab beetle danced inside her palm. The Nubian's heart skipped a beat. She was gifted like the exiled Queen.

He startled when she spoke again.

"Amun knows our Pharaoh has many."

She clarified as she settled the sacred insect on her left shoulder, "Enemies."

So she had heard him. Sobek's eyebrows shot to his turban at her blasphemy.

"What kind of Sanctifier are you?"

The scarab nuzzled Renpet's veil as she retorted, "The kind to value truth above ceremony. Be honest, do you respect that ruler?"

Chills rattled Sobek's spine. He squinted past the dust motes in an attempt to meet the woman' eyes under her white cloth. She waited in silence, while the red beetle crept its way up her covered neck to kiss her jaw. Hypnotized by the sacred insect's movements, the Nubian let out a growl,

"No. I watched the Pharaoh murder an innocent, exile a child, and cast me off as an inferior Medjay."

"Queen Nefertari, now she wasn't so bad."

Sobek huffed. "She was worse: she let it happen. Deserted her people. Abandoned me!" he hit his broad chest.

Still panting, he gaped when she acknowledged his unholy accusations with a nod, startling the beetle to buzz off her veil and out of the cellar like a red and yellow trail on the Medjay's retina.

With the scarab, a spell lifted. Sobek shook himself and, pointing a finger at the Sanctifier, roared,

"What are you playing at?"

She stepped back as he strode forward, thoughts colliding in his mind, words blurting out of his mouth,

"Since this morning, you've been distracting me, slighting me, overlooking clues…" Blood left his face as he halted, staring at the woman's empty hands, "Where's the culprit's piece of cloth?"

Renpet retreated and, opening her palms, made a show of searching the dirt floor, "It must've fallen somewhere."

Instead, Sobek examined the woman for the first time, finally noticing the signs. No religious embroidery on her linen. Around her neck, no amulet, no Ankh.

"You're not an inquisitor for the temple of Karnak, are you?" he spelled out, mouth dry. "What are you truly doing in this cellar?" Ears pounding, he grabbed her by the collar, "And what did you do with my only piece of evidence?"

The impostor wriggled under his iron grip, tearing the front of her robe open. Underneath, she wore a carmine tunic adorned with intricate symbols of golden thread, and lined with saffron silk.

Sobek jerked away on weak legs and shook his hands as if burnt.

Regaining countenance, the noblewoman pulled her veil down, revealing the gold-and-black stripes of the Nemes crown. When she lifted her pointy chin, Ureus, affixed to the royal headdress, reared up. Sobek gulped as the mighty cobra stared at him, poised to attack. He lowered to his knees and bowed his head to the dirt in submission.

"Sobek, my faithful guard, do you know me?" the exiled Queen said in deep tones, "The Pharaoh murdered my lover, banished me, and sent you to kick dirt. But I, Nefertari, have never abandoned you."

Questions wrestled under Sobek's skull, but he dared not speak before the Goddess incarnate. Reading his mind, she quenched his curiosity,

"Three weeks and four nights I have marched through the desert to return to my nation; I have sailed down the Nile, hidden inside this barrel for nine more days until I emerged from my wooden cocoon to reclaim my divine right. The gods favor me, as the first to find me should be you, Sobek, protector to your rightful monarch. Rise, my loyal servant," Nefertari's perfect toes appeared in Sobek's field of vision, so he shut his eyes, "Your heart was filled with rancor, but I am returned. Do you not love me as you once loved your Queen? Do you not worship me?"

Head tucked between knees and shoulders, Sobek wept. Nefertari leaned down and brushed milk-white fingers on the Nubian's sun-burnt, scarred arm. He shuddered.

"If not," she whispered into his ear, though holding the inflexible will of a ruler in her soft voice, "Will you thwart me instead? Betray me to your Pharaoh like you think I betrayed you?"

Sobek inhaled, then rasped, "He is no Pharaoh of mine."

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This story was written for the Writing Battle competition of Winter 2024. You can find the original here. The prompts were: Buddy Cop (Genre), Divine Ruler (Character), Barrel (Object). Max. 1,000 words.

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