An Offering for Revenge: Pt. 3
A Door is Bolted
Em-tiri’s fists pulled the blanket tightly around her shoulders as she buried her chin into her chest. Si-Hotep slowly dressed at the foot of her bed, methodically adjusting each pleat of his robe, knowing she was fighting back a river of tears that would flow as soon as he closed the door behind him.
He paused, halfway through the door. “Tomorrow night, I will send my two sons to you. I want you to be pretty for them, and smile when they are with you.”
“No!” The answer burst through her teeth in spite of every nerve that tried to bite it back. She had long feared the day he would demand this.
It was, of course, the answer Si had hoped for. The back of his hand broke across her face. Just as quickly, he took his place by her on the bed, tenderly speaking as he moved a few wet strands of hair from her eyes. “How are your boys? I haven’t seen them in quite a while. Perhaps the next time, you can bring them here so I can, see how they have grown.”
Tearful sobs burst from Em-tiri. Her body shuttered with every caress he gave. Si wrapped his arms around her in a final tender embrace. “Tomorrow night, you will be pretty for them.” He whispered into her ear, as a lover would.
“Yes.”
Si kissed Em-tiri on her scalp. The door latched behind him.
***
Along the Nile, a farmer might look with pride across a field once covered with silt from the receded waters and remember the few hands full of seed that had grown into a bountiful golden lake of grain. An artisan might give a satisfied look at a delicately carved statue that was once a rough piece of wood. A father might listen to his daughter recite a marriage vow to a young man who will bring her a lifetime of joy and grandchildren into his home. Such was the satisfaction Si-Hotep felt as Em-tiri’s wales flowed to his ears through the night as he rode away from her secluded cottage.
Si was capable of extreme cruelty, but people remembered his vulgarity. As a young man, Si would storm into the city temples and openly accuse the young priests of stealing from his family. Worshipers would turn their head for fear of drawing his attention. Senior priests were compelled to whip young ecclesiastics else publically, they lose his family’s support to their temple. Such blasphemy was not supposed to be possible. Such was the influence and power of the house of Hotep. As he aged his desire for destruction festered.
Si didn’t really enjoy laying with Em-tiri, or any of the things he did to her. Long ago she was a young widow, bright and proud, who carried herself with all the grace of a princess. She came to his estate hoping for employment and a place for her two sons to live. Si-Hotep taught her what it meant to “serve” him. He enjoyed watching her leave his estate only to be turned away from all the other great houses. The influence of house Hotep was vast indeed. In time, Em-tiri learned that dignity would not feed her children or keep them safe from the cold desert night.
As he settled onto his horse, Si compared the memory of the once proud woman to the hollow shell under his domination whom he had just left. He would revel in this comparison all the way home.
After a quarter hour, Em-tiri’s cottage was a small light against a vast ocean of darkness. Si had it built miles from his estate, and even further from town. His horse knew the trail that would eventually lead to the lights of his home. So for the time, he was alone with his memories, or so he thought.
The horse became unsettled when something ran under it. Si tried to calm the beast as it stirred, but another pass from the shadows sent the animal reeling and Si to the ground.
By the time he pulled himself to his feet, the horse had galloped out of sight. A stream of curses followed the beast as its hooves dissipated in the darkness. As if to answer his call, two flames flickered to life before him. Flickering became bobbing as the trail carried the tiny crimson lights closer until the moonlight outlined a pointed snout and ears.
Far behind him, Em-tiri’s shack was a faint silhouette. No sooner had Si turned away from the blood-red eyes did a soft, high-pitched growl float through his ears. The sound snapped his attention back to the trail where the eyes appeared closer. The growl again rattled into his head when he turned in the direction of the house, then silenced when he faced the closer still flames.
The growl sounded as though all the hatred and rage under the sky was focused less than a stones toss from him. Si’s mind could not actually conceive of such things, but he knew it was true.
Never in his life had Si ran as he did from the formless eyes. The high-pitched growl kept a leisurely pace over paws scratching the compacted earth. All the while, his lungs stretched around his pounding heart as the shack grew in his sight.
When the light from the cottage’s window fell onto his robe he cried, “Em-tiri, open the door!” Then the first wave hit. Spike-like teeth tore into the crook of his knee sending him to the ground. Searing pain climbed through his body as powerful muscles jerked back and forth in a mad dance of rage. Tissue reluctantly separated from bone followed by a sudden release. Si desperately wailed to the distant door. “HELP MEEE!”
The outline of Em-tiri’s profile receded from a thin sliver of light running the height of her door before it quietly faded to black. Although he was several feet from the house, Si reached out with his hand, as though to push the door open and pull himself inside. “Em-tiri PLEEEASE!” Jaws clamped onto Si’s outstretched hand. Light from the window fell onto the creature’s figure. Eyes of fire raged under ears folded back. Its legs pressed against the ground pulling its back into a straight line ending with a growling snout. A fresh wave of pain surged through Si’s arm as he was dragged over ground softened by his blood.
His mangled hand slips from the beast’s jaw before it pranced away.
With his remaining arm, Si pulled himself against the door to slap at the latch. “Em-tiiiiiri! OPEN THIS DOOR!” His demand was met with the sound of a bolt sliding into place. “NOOOOO!”
Si placed his back against the door. His voice cracked as he called out to the night for mercy; sure as hell, he wasn’t to find it in that house. Fear dilated his pupils to reveal the figure of a jackal sitting erect before him.
“You stay away!” His command was answered with a soft growl. Si’s voice cracked as he cried, “Stay away!”
A high-pitched yip accompanied bared teeth to counter his demand bringing the animal to its feet. The hound lowered its head and focused its eyes on the tender meat of Si’s throat.
Si carefully cocked his knee to meet the inevitable charge. With a high-pitched growl, the creature launched towards its prey. With his attention focused on the pointed snout Si’s foot thrust out into the night, allowing the beast inside.
As Si slapped his hands against the back of the creature’s neck white teeth enclosed around his crotch. Violent jolts burst back and forth, as the beast wagged its body with an unholy force, pulling Si into the night. Flesh released with a large flap of linen when the creature pulled away from Si. His broken body did not have sufficient breadth to release his screams. It was in this silence he heard the piercing growl of the hound. The old man opened his eyes, to find the jackal sitting before him.
***
Si struggled to meet the creature’s flaming eyes as the hours passed. A growl warned him every time he looked away. Each nod of his head brought another attack. Unable to breathe and dizzy from blood loss, Si closed his eyes for death to take him. He laid his head on the ground only to be awakened by a warm stream squirted onto his face.
He shook himself back to consciousness to find a snout, inches from his eyes. Si was not a smart man, but somehow he knew, that the creature had challenged him. The words did not come in any way he could hear, but they were there nonetheless.
Go ahead old man; make me find ways to keep you awake.
Chapter 2: An Offering is Considered Chapter 4: A Life is Spared