The Forgotten God

Chapter 17

The moon was high outside and casting its cold glow on the exotic gardens and fountains of marble and stone.

Peacocks had finished their nightly preening and had settled for the night near the high walls built to prevent intruders from breaching the rich interiors. Marble and sandstone and without flaw.

Behind the grandeur, guarded by two large hounds, was an entirely different view.

A small path from a less kempt area led to landscape of fire when the blooms were tongues of flame and the waters were molten lava.

Even the grass seemed to hiss with infernal fury as heat rose through the charred earth into a rufescent sky. Only if one walked with the Gods or their guardians was is possible to bear such a vista.

Today the grounds were empty. Even in the world of the Gods the heat could get the best of them and Am Heh, despite with adoration of fire, was not immune to it.

The day had been warmer than normal and showering had been the only way to cool down. Water still beaded down his well-toned body, reflecting and shimmering on golden skin.

After a while that would wear off, leaving him in the same uncomfortable state, albeit far milder than some, as before.

Ishaq coped with the conditions somewhat better than most. The son of a farmer he was used to bearing the violent heat of the day, resting only when the sun had reached its peak in the sky and it became hazardous to one's health. Even then some had still persevered, often the labourers of unscrupulous owners who knew they were easily replaced.

He missed the fields. Those peaceful pastures of golden corn, even if it had been those that had led him here.

The drought had not been that unexpected. The spring and summer had been threatening a rough farming season and the animals were already weak from a bad patch during winter, depriving them of the food they needed and many having to be slaughtered to feed the humans.

The waters had receded and the crops were unable to get the fluid they required; the silty substance procured was not fit for even plants.

Desperation soon took over. Nothing any labourer or overseer did was making a difference and the only thing left was to offer the God and Goddess of the harvest a sign of their continued adoration, curry their favour once again.

Only a human would do at this stage and Ishaq, amid the tears of his mother and stoic silence of her father, had been demanded.

He was pure. Quiet and hardworking and, they had said, any God would delight in having him in their service.

"Renenutet would treat you well." They had told him as they took him into the wilderness, performing the ritual to alert the Gods to his presence. "Remember she nurses the great Kings from the day they take their first breath to the day he takes his last. And Min, should he see fit to be the one to take you, is a fair and just master. Many would envy you."

Many would envy him.

Had Ishaq been bolder he would have asked what was to envy. Indeed, to be taken, body and soul, to the world of the Gods was something children wondered about, playing in their spare time. Yet it entailed more than a simple trip and discomfort of the rituals.