"Wave after wave of foreigners have ruled our lands since then, from the Persians to Alexander, the Ptolemies, the Greeks, and the Romans, and through each of them the wedjadeen have endured. However, a great schism occured, and we have been weakened ever since."
The high priest—indeed, all the sem priests—looked sorely confused. "What schism, O Seer of Truth?"
"When the pharaoh Ptolemy put forth the call to bring all the sacred items from our temples and house them in the Alexandrian library, it was his intention to centralize the power of our land. However, he, like Alexander and others before him, wished to bring his foreign gods and marry them with our own. This, as we all know, was an abomination. We did what we could, spiriting our most powerful and sacred relics of the gods into places of hiding. We got many, but not all. In spite of our efforts, some made their way to the great library."
Awi Bubu had explained to me that the wedjadeen had sent a few of their lesser, least powerful artifacts to the collection at the Alexandrian library but that they had kept the most powerful artifacts of the gods and hidden them away in the desert.
"But it would be a poor commander who tried to win a war with only a single tactic. When it became clear that some of our holy treasures had slipped through our fingers, we vowed to see our own wedjadeen installed in the library. We were not willing to let even the lesser artifacts fall into the hands of unlearned or unscrupulous men. A small band of wedjadeen was chosen to accompany these lesser artifacts and become librarians at this new place. These men were charged with watching over the artifacts in the library and keeping them safe. Their sole charge was the artifacts and texts contained within the library. In that way, we could keep our covenant with our gods and watch over all that was in our keeping."
I couldn't help but glance over at Major Grindle to see how he was taking this. I needn't have worried. His face was aglow with hope and longing and a shocking hunger.
"These sacred librarians would guard the artifacts housed there, be certain that no one else used their power, and spirit them away when the opportunity arose. And that worked for a time. We were able to keep watch over the artifacts and occasionally slip one to our brothers outside the library, who would take it to protect with the others.
"And then Caesar came. He burned the city, and the fire reached the walls of the library. There was much damage, though the library itself still stood. But it was a warning to us. A warning that the chaotic forces of the outside world were once again beating upon our shore. We redoubled our forces at the museum, but it was not enough.
"When the library fell for the last time, at the proclamation of Emperor Theodosius, it was these librarians who tried to save the last remaining artifacts in the library. Many lost their lives to the rioting mob and had the very artifacts they were trying to save wrenched from their dying hands.
"This man is one of us, descended from our brothers who had become lost to us when the library was destroyed and the librarians overrun by those sent to destroy it."
Even the strict discipline of the wedjadeen couldn't hold back the wave of surprise that rippled through the room.
"That is the Rekhet's destiny that the Hathor spoke of, to rejoin that which had been torn asunder, to allow the two halves to be made whole once again. For only when we are whole will we be able to face Chaos in the fullness of our power. That is the role this young miss has played. And that is the role Awi Bubu has played."
"The contending of Horus and Set is never-ending, and even now the forces of Set are gathering, growing in power and strength. Do you truly believe the struggle was fought in Egypt alone? That chaos and evil have been contained within our borders?"
"B-but, O Seer of Truth, what of our young pharaoh?" Fenuku asked.
"Do not fear. You will find him. Even now, more warriors of Horus arrive. You will need them to retrieve the Son of Re."
More warriors of Horus? Whom could he mean? But the statue fell silent then, and after a long moment, it became clear that it would not speak anymore that day. I glanced over at Major Grindle, whose stiff upper lip was curled into a gleeful grin. "An interesting turn of events, wouldn't you say, Miss Throckmorton?"
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
More Warriors of Horus
AS WE FILED OUT OF THE INNER RECESSES of the temple, a great commotion reached our ears. "The additional warriors of Horus must have arrived," Khalfani said.
"Who are they?" I asked, trying to keep up with his and the major's longer strides.
"I have no idea." He sounded faintly aggrieved.
We stepped out of the temple courtyard into the camp, a handful of riders heading our way. Three were garbed in the traditional robes of the wedjadeen, but two were distinctly European.
"Kazimerz! Gunter!" Major Grindle yelled, waving his arm. He gave a short bark of laughter. "But of course."
Unable to help myself, I reached up and rubbed my eyes, but my vision didn't waver. There, indeed, rode Jadwiga and Rumpf into camp, accompanied by three wedjadeen scouts.
The sight of them produced a giant lump of homesickness in the middle of my throat. I'd been trying so hard not to think of Mother or Father or Isis. A small hiccup of a sob escaped before I clamped my mouth shut. Wait a moment. "What do you mean 'of course,' Major?"
"What?" he said distractedly.
"When you saw Mother's assistants, you said, 'of course,' as if it made perfect sense that they were here."
Khalfani sent the major a sidelong glance. "They are two of yours, are they not, Major?"
"In a manner of speaking," he said. With a sheepish look, Major Grindle turned to me. "They belong to the Brotherhood," he said.
I gaped at him. I couldn't help it. Then I turned to look at Jadwiga and Rumpf with new eyes. They were Chosen Keepers? Descendants of the Alexandrian librarians?
"What ... how ... do you mean—"
"I should clarify that," the major said. "They are members of the International Brotherhood of the Chosen Keepers, rather than the British branch. Does that help clear things up?"
"Best go explain it to them," I said, pointing at the wedjadeen who had collected around the men's horses, swords drawn.
Major Grindle hurried forward. "No, no! They're with us."
Khalfani joined him, explaining to the wedjadeen that the Brotherhood was indeed an ally, if not an actual part, of the wedjadeen organization. His poor men looked as confused as I felt.
When I finally reached the small group gathered around the newcomers, I was struck by shyness and hung back a bit.
"How did you find us?" the major asked the two archaeologists.
Rumpf threw a quick glance at me, and then I had my sixth or seventh shock of the day. "We followed the girl's cat."
"Her cat?"
"Isis?" All my fear and longing and utter homesickness crowded in my throat so that I ended up squealing her name.
"Ja, your little black cat." Jadwiga reached into his coat and the wedjadeen scout closest to him raised his spear.
"Lower your weapon," Khalfani bellowed at the scout.
"But, sir!"
"Lower it. These men are now our allies."
The scout scowled but retracted his spear so that Jadwiga could reach into his coat and pull Isis from the depths of his jacket. "She got tired of walking. It is a long way for such little paws."
Dear Jadwiga! His voice sounded as if every one of those steps had bruised his heart.
As I reached for her, she twisted gracefully and launched herself from Jadwiga's lap into my arms. I caught her and hugged her close, reveling in the soft silkiness of her fur, the fierce rumble of her purr. She was as happy to see me as I was to see her.