Cursed Times - Only Yesterday! Sequel to Wattys 2015 winner!

Chapter 6 - Seisi: Home on the Farm

The life force of the crocodile was faltering; its legs were barely treading water. Seisi soothingly patted the neck of the great beast and steered his ride towards the mooring he had discerned from the distance.

A familiar mooring—one that belonged to his grandfather's freehold farm. He must have drifted much further down the Nile the previous night than he could have hoped for.

His mount bumped into one of the wooden beams of the landing, and there it stayed, motionless. Seisi dismounted into the shallow water, patted the crocodile once more and climbed the beam onto boards that had absorbed so much heat from the noon time sun, they burned the soles of his bare feet.

Hearing a sloshing sound from below, Seisi checked the river next to the dock. The crocodile had turned belly-up. Slowly sinking below the surface, the carcass got sucked into the current and carried away.

The dark priests had claimed their first victim in the mirror world.

'In the name of the Devourer.' Seisi swore as he turned his back on the casualty and hopped across first the planks, then the sun-baked road toward the moist soil in the nearest field of emmer. None of this befitted his station. Here he was, a priest of the fourth rank, an emissary of the High Priest of Thoth—in his underwear, seeking refuge among the grain. His cousins would not hesitate to share his exploits with his brothers; he would never hear the end of this tale.

Noticing his grandfather's sailing boat tied to one of the beams pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind. By using the waterways, he might still have a chance of delivering his message in time.

First, however, he had to seek help.

A quick trot got Seisi to the whitewashed enclosure of the farm buildings. Laundry flapped next to the reed screen on the roof terrace like so many multicoloured banners. He heard slapping and laughter behind the wall, and deduced the womenfolk must be engaged in cleaning. Even further behind the farm, he beheld the glittering bands of the sails of Ra. Caring for the large glass panels that captured the light to yield power was the main source of prosperity for his kinfolk.

He banged on the gate of the enclosure and hailed his relatives. Discordant braying from the barn and the honking of geese was the only reward for his efforts. More thumping and shouting finally brought results.

'Begone, whoever you are! We have no time to spare.' The voice of his grandmother shrilled from the recesses of the complex.

'Let me in now, or I will put a spell on your dish of lentils.' Seisi shouted back.

'Seisi?'

Rapid footsteps, followed by loud clanking on the other side of the gate indicated progress, bolts were drawn back, the barrier screeched open and the cheerful face of his maternal grandmother materialised in the opening. She was covered in flour up to her elbows, a spot of powder decorated her nose. Her sturdy form was framed by the inquisitive features of his aunts and cousins who rivalled the geese, if not the donkey, in volume. With them came the homely smells of baking, washing and the hope for a brief respite from his toils.

'We are not having lentils today, boy,' grandmother said, throwing her arms around him and patting him on the back amid puffs of white dust. It still hurt. She took a step back and tilted her head.'Why are you—'

'—wearing only a loincloth? I am on a mission for the temple. I cannot tell you, but I need your help. And some nourishment,' Seisi said as he pushed ino the courtyard. 'Do hurry, this is a matter of great urgency. Where is grandfather?'

'He should be back very soon,' his grandmother said. 'They were cleaning the sails of Ra, the sandstorm last week left some of them covered and scratched. They could no longer power the wheels that bring water to our village.'