VS: Today’s excerpt is taken from MAGIC OF THE NILE. a romantasy set in 1550 BCE, when the gods walked the earth beside the Nile and Pharaoh reigned supreme. Tyema is a high Priestess of Sobek and has been sent to Thebes by the god to bring a special crocodile to the temple there. He’s given her the ability to control the beast. (NOTE: Since this isn’t a historical romance, I do take a few liberties with certain aspects of  life in ancient Egypt.)

The procession was lined up alongside the palace, partly, Tyema supposed, because she had to bring the crocodile from the pond and get him to climb onto his litter. As Sahure escorted her along the line of marchers, she was impressed at how orderly and matter of fact the marchers were. The acrobats behind the heralds who led off the parade were doing flips and tumbles to warm up and she watched with delight as a truly spectacular series of tumbling runs played out.

“The temples must do processions often in Thebes,” she said. “I sense little excitement among the celebrants and performers.”

“Indeed, there are always parades for one thing or another,” he agreed.

She bowed her head to acknowledge a polite greeting from Lemertet as she walked by the delegation from Sobek’s Theban temple. Visibly grinding his teeth as he sat in his gilded chair beside Lemertet, the florid-faced High Priest stared at her.

“Jealous of your finery, no doubt,” Sahure said as they paced farther, past the huge effigy of Sobek, ensconced in a cunningly fabricated “boat” of reeds, and then edged around more dancers, busy limbering up.

“Thanks to you. I’d have made a poor showing in the midst of all this glory on my own.” Tyema took a deep breath, trying to calm the butterflies in her stomach. Once the procession begins, I’ll be fine. This day is all in honor of the god.

Sahure stopped and swung her to face him. “You shine wherever you are, Ema. Never doubt that. My gift only frames your loveliness. And you’re here for Sobek. “

For an aching moment she wanted him to kiss her, to let her take comfort in his strong arms, no matter if they were in public, but then a horse whinnied, breaking the spell. Tyema resumed her stately pace to the crocodile pond.

“Where do they get all these people? Surely the temple of Sobek can’t have such a large staff, not even in Thebes?” she asked after walking by a third troop of voluptuous dancing women, accompanied by musicians with drums, pipes and small harps.

“Indeed not.” Sahure laughed. “Most are hired for the occasion. At other times they work in the taverns or at the marketplace. Besides the musicians and heralds who serve Pharaoh, almost everyone you see in the procession who isn’t a priest is here for the deben the temple will dispense later.”

“How odd.”

“Not when you think about it. There are many temples here in the capital and a large number of festivals and occasions where pharaoh and other Great Ones must be honored. No one temple could afford to keep this many people on staff. Although some, like the temple of Amun-Re, do have their own company of dancers and keep a high priestess of the dance and a captain of musicians. But even the largest temple hires on additional women to perform for the major festivals.”

Tyema took a deep breath of the morning air. “I can smell the meats being roasted.”

“Pharaoh has authorized quite a feast for the people, later today. Gazelle, ibis, oryx, ducks, many kinds of bread, beer will flow like rivers,” Sahure said. “Can you smell the myrrh in the air as well? The priests from the temple will have been adding it to the sacred incense burning on the temple’s braziers since dawn.”

“Indeed.” Tyema enjoyed the scented air. “These smells are much better than some of the odors assaulting my nose the day we came through Thebes to arrive at the palace.”

Sahure shrugged. “I can admit a big city has its drawbacks as well as its pleasures.”

When they reached the pond, Hotepre and his men were waiting, accompanied by the palace zookeeper.

“They make a fuss over accepting their new crocodile, don’t they, my lady?” Hotepre said with a grin.

Although she felt a pang of regret for not thinking of it herself, Tyema was glad to see someone— probably the tireless Edekh—had outfitted him in a new kilt and tunic, blue with red trim, and a nemes to match. He even had new sandals. “Our crocodile is worthy of such attention,” she said. “Shall we get him out of the pond and onto his litter?”

She was only vaguely conscious of all the bystanders as she, Hotepre and the zookeeper went to the pond, to open the gate. Unsurprisingly the crocodile was waiting close by, lounging in the morning sunlight.

“Are you ready?” she said to the creature.

He yawned, displaying a mouth full of jagged teeth, as if to say he wasn’t overly impressed by all the fuss and might prefer to nap, but he did walk forward, past her. Gazing from side to side as he went, the crocodile clambered onto the litter, which had been set down in the middle of the road. He struck a pose.

“He’s standing exactly like the statue of Sobek in crocodile form the priests will carry ahead of you in the parade,” Sahure laughed. “Did you tell the beast to adopt the matching stance?”

She shook her head. “No, perhaps the god is giving him orders directly, as well as through me.”

“And you’re sure the animal will stay still during the parade?” the zookeeper asked her.

Tyema nodded. “He’s obedient to my will because the Great One Sobek desires things to be done in such fashion today. The crocodile won’t stir till I release him to his new pond.”

She was to sit in a gilded chair at the back of the litter, visible to all, yet close to her animal. Sahure handed her into the chair, arranging the magnificent cloak in graceful swirls around her. The iridescent feathers shone in the sunlight.

“Pharaoh comes,” he said.

While all the time maintaining her concentration on the mental leash she held on the crocodile, Tyema had to see.

Nat-re-Akhte wore the double crown of Egypt today, and carried the cobalt blue-and-gold crook and flail of power. His kilt was fine linen, pleated, tinted with gold, tied with the elaborate red sash. A leopard skin was draped across one side of the kilt. He wore the magnificent pectoral depicting Horus the Falcon on his chest, gold, coral and turquoise gleaming in the sun. Pharaoh’s cloak was red, trimmed in gold and bearing his cartouche skillfully embroidered, guarded by a falcon on one side and the cobra on the other. The ceremonial braided beard adorned his chin today, although normally he was clean shaven, like most of his male subjects. It was almost painful to behold Pharaoh in all his glory. As he walked along the line of marchers, people knelt and genuflected.

Tyema’s heart beat faster at the honor of participating in a procession with Pharaoh. My astounding new cloak might be beautiful, but mere feathers can’t outshine  a living Great One.

Paying the crocodile no heed, Nat-re-Akhte stopped for a moment beside her chair. “Are you ready for this, Lady Tyema?”

“Indeed, my lord. It’s all so much grander than I’d imagined, but the procession pays proper tribute to Sobek. Thank you.” She knew if Pharaoh hadn’t taken a personal interest in this ceremony, things would have been done on a much lesser scale.

He nodded. “An outstanding cloak, my dear, quite unusual. The priests of the Theban temples will have yet another reason to feel cast into the shade. And so they should.” He didn’t wait for an answer but walked to his own chair, separated from hers by heralds and standard bearers with the insignia of the Nomes of Egypt, the one for Nat-re-Akhte’s home province being foremost. The back of his chair was a glorious gilded rendition of the sun rising over the Nile. Uncut rubies set at the tip of each ray sparkled in the real sun as it rose higher. Six fan bearers took up position on either side of him as the burly litter bearers raised the chair high. In front of him soldiers stood ready to march, carrying his gold encrusted bow, shield and sword, accompanied by two handlers with Pharaoh’s snarling hunting leopards on leashes. Behind him was another miniature boat, elaborately constructed and painted, bearing an effigy of the god Horus, Pharaoh’s personal sponsor among the Great Ones. Depicted in falcon form, the statue was taller than a man, wings outspread, decorated in vibrant multicolored enamel and blue faience, with the head gold plated. Gleaming eyes, one a diamond and the other a yellow stone she couldn’t name, gazed upon the scene. Tyema knew Horus and Sobek maintained a friendly rivalry, so she could find no fault with the parade concluding on a tribute to Horus.

Pharaoh must have made some sign she missed because suddenly her litter was raised into the air. Tyema clutched the arms of her chair as the eighteen men carrying her and the crocodile adjusted their hold on the ebony poles to achieve maximum stability. She glanced at Sahure for reassurance and he grinned, giving her a raised thumb of support. Far ahead, at the beginning of the procession, she heard the blare of trumpets. From her new position, supported on the shoulders of the massive litter bearers, three men at each corner and on both sides in the middle, she could see movement in the ranks of marchers. She took a deep breath, knowing she had to stay calm to play her part in this pageant, and more importantly, to ensure the crocodile played his. So far the animal stayed locked in his regal pose, watching his surroundings with the deceptively lazy demeanor of his kind.

MAGIC OF THE NILE: standalone sequel to PRIESTESS OF THE NILE.

Hearts Through History Romancing the Novel Winner

Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence Finalist

Carolyn Readers Choice Award Finalist

She’s a priestess, he’s a proud warrior … is love enough to bridge their differences?
When the high priestess of an Egyptian temple falls in love with a captain of the royal guard, their bond is tested by the intrigue and peril of their duties to the gods and Pharaoh.

Tyema serves Sobek the Crocodile God as High Priestess of his Nile river temple. But despite her beauty, grace, and the power she wields, the shy priestess lives as a recluse in the remote temple grounds. For though Sobek rescued her from a childhood of abuse and neglect, and healed her crippled foot, her dark past haunts her still.
When Sahure, a dashing captain of Pharaoh’s guard, arrives to ask her help for Pharaoh, Tyema’s wounded heart blossoms. The captain is captivated as by her well … until Pharaoh orders him to the dangerous frontier, far from Tyema. He rides away, bound by duty and honor, leaving Tyema with even more secrets to bear.

Heart-broken, Tyema returns to her lonely life … until the Crocodile God reveals other plans for his priestess. For Pharaoh’s life is threatened with black magic, and only one who wields the power of a god can unmask the sorcerer. Tyema must brave court life, and somehow withstand the pressures of swirling gossip, intrigue and danger. And she must hurry, before ancient evils overcome all her efforts.

But when Sahure returns, is he there to help or to hinder? Will love lead them to common ground, and a future together … or will their differences tear them apart forever? Find out in this exciting sequel to PRIESTESS OF THE NILE!

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