The crowd roared with pleasure at his words. Shapur silenced them by raising his hand, palm up to the sky.
"As I have given you my word, Egyptian, you may have what remains of the heretic. I give you this favor only because I know that you are a good and righteous man without evil in your heart. But, before you claim the body, tell me your reason for wanting it."
Imhept bowed low from the platform. "Lord, it is for no other reason than that this man was once my friend. I know you say that he has done great evil and perhaps that is so, but in respect for the kindnesses that he once showed me, I would give him proper burial so hisKa could perhaps find peace."
The man's answer was no less than Shapur had expected. The Egyptian was almost as intelligent as he himself, though he might be an emotional fool as far as Shapur was concerned.
"So be it, scholar. You may have him." Shapur then addressed the rest of the audience. "These proceedings are now at an end. Let none interfere with the Egyptian and his professed wishes. This is my word, and so let it be."
Imhept carefully freed Casca's body from the chains, burning his fingers on the hot metal of the shackles. Several of the links had burned their way deeply into the seared flesh of the Roman, and had to be pried gently loose. He carefully examined the body for any spark of life, hoping that the priest may have been mistaken. There was none.
Shapur watched the proceedings for a moment.
It really made no difference to him what happened to the remains, as long as the traitor was dead. Even if the Roman was alive, he could now no longer be more than a crippled beast that could neither walk nor crawl. Already, he could see the legs were knotted into impossible positions as the tissue shriveled and drew the skin taut over the bones. The Roman's nose was not completely charred and the eyes and ears were still intact. The hair on his head though, was almost completely burned off. Shapur left the Egyptian to his corpse.
Imhept called out for one of his servants to come forth. The man listened to his master's words and quickly departed, leaving the stench of the smoking body to his master's nose. He returned in a few minutes, leading an ass with a carpet tied upon its back. They wrapped the body in the carpet, reloaded it on the ass, and made their exit from the city.
Imhept led the way to a cave near the sea, a place he'd found while on a tour of inspection for the King. It was not a pyramid or a royal tomb, but it would serve his purpose well enough. When he had the body unloaded and inside, he returned to the city to gather the things he'd need. When he returned to the cave, he dismissed his servant. The man left the scene, relieved, never again to return to Imhept's service.
Inside the cave, Imhept unwrapped Casca's body carefully. Peeling back the carpet slowly, he tried to hold back the rush of nausea that assailed him as pieces of blackened skin came loose with each touch.
In the manner of his ancestors, he treated the body for five days. He washed the shriveled thinggently, then bit by bit wrapped the body in long windings of linen soaked with oils and rare herbs. Unlike the usual custom of removing the brain by pulling it through the nostrils with long tweezerlike devices and placing it in a special container, in Casca's case he did not eviscerate the body. He was content to just use the wrappings, well soaked with oils, to protect what remained of the Roman.
He spent the next ten days in prayer, burning incense and carefully watching over the remains in his care. On the morning of the tenth day, he was finally finished with the ceremonial services. He'd done all he could do. He began to pile rocks around the remains. When this was finished he would seal the entrance to the cave to keep out scavengers, both human and animal.
Imhept tired easily from the effort of moving the heavy stones alone and his burned hands had not yet healed and were giving him some trouble. He sat resting beside the half-covered, mummy-wrapped corpse, his old body shaking with fatigue. Suddenly a rock moved under his hand. He thought he'd imagined it. Then another moved, and another. He was still trying to figure out if his mind was playing tricks on him when he heard a deep broken sigh from beneath the half finished tomb. Apprehensive and fearful, he put his ear closer to the stones and listened. The sound came again.
With trembling fingers, he started to remove the stones from the body beneath them. As the weight of the stones lessened from the chest of the corpse, the sounds of breathing were more pronounced.
Imhept removed the last of the rubble from around the linen-wrapped figure and saw clearlythat the dead man was breathing. The bandages he'd placed around the mouth moved ever so slightly as Casca inhaled, then breathed out. Imhept placed his ear close to Casca's mouth and listened. He heard one word being repeated several times. Choking, whispery, and dry, yes-but clear and distinct.
"Hurt… hurt… I hurt."
He moistened the wrappings around the mouth with water from a jug beside him, then removed enough of the cloth covering the mouth to see the cracked, peeling, and charred lips. Gently, he used his fingers to pry the lips open and carefully poured a small measure of water into Casca's mouth. He moved closer to Casca's ear, whispering, "Do not fear, I am with you. I will take care of you. You will live."
Imhept left the cave an hour later, making his way back to the city, whipping the donkey into its fastest gait. He returned before nightfall, bringing medicines with him. He entered the confines of the cave and heard no sound. For a second he thought he had imagined it all, but then came the same long shallow breathing from the mummy at his feet.
The exhalation brought with it the same words that had driven Imhept to the city for medicines: "Pain…"
He removed a vial from his pack and carefully poured a draught, distilled from the yellow flowers of the highlands, into the seared maw.
For the next several weeks he stayed in constant attendance of his patient, spooning nearly equal portions of broth and opium down Casca's throat. He cleansed the body as well as he could, finallydaring to remove the wrappings. His patient had slowly returned to full consciousness, for a few moments at a time at first, and then increasing in time spans, staying awake for hours at a stretch. Every movement that Casca made was one of agony. Imhept's deft fingers moved the cloth bindings from Casca bit by bit and, at times, pieces of charred flesh came away with the linens, often taking good flesh along with the bad.
It was three weeks before the last of the bandages could be removed. New pink skin showed fresh and moist where before there had only been seared tissue. Imhept had seen burn victims before but none had ever healed like this man. According to all knowledge, Casca should be irreversibly crippled and scarred, but his skin and damaged flesh was merely sloughing off, the heavy burn scars being replaced by new, pink, babylike skin. He knew he must be witnessing magic. Or perhaps a miracle. Were they not both one and the same?
Casca was awake during most of the healing process, and fully aware of what was happening to him. He knew that he was still not to be permitted to die. When the smoke at the stake had filled his lungs and he'd plunged into darkness, away from the pain, he'd been thankful in his last conscious thought. He'd believed that finally it was over. The end of his trials and tribulations had arrived and he was going to be permitted to die. He thought he'd finally beaten The Jew and that not even Jesus could put a man back together who had been turned into charred ashes. But now he knew that fate was against him. Imhept had interfered before the burning had been completed.
He said nothing of this to Imhept. He agreedthat his miraculous cure must have come about from the herbs and oils Imhept had used on the wrappings. It was lame reasoning, but Imhept didn't pursue the matter.