Cover by Frauke of Croco Designs

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.

From the Author’s collection

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.

From the Author’s collection – the inspiration for Tyema’s blue feather cloak.

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.

An Egyptian bark floating on the Nile – DepositPhoto

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!

Amazon   Apple Books    Barnes & Noble     Google Play Books  Kobo

VS: For today’s excerpt I had great fun writing this meeting between Tyema, the High Priestess of the temple of Sobek in a remote nome (province) in ancient Egypt. The god has sent her to Thebes to present a special crocodile to the temple there. A meeting with Pharaoh and the local priests is required to arrange the ceremony. I’ve been in a LOT of meetings where the ratio of women to men was about like this one Tyema is in and a woman had to be very strong to be heard. Even 3800 years ago!

The excerpt: 

The local High Priest of Sobek was easy for Tyema to identify, dressed in layered raiment of white, gold and black, wearing a modified sun-disk headdress, all ten bony fingers adorned with golden rings set with chunky gemstones. He was flanked by five lower priests and a thin, nervous scribe sat close by to record orders. A much older man, the priest had a stern face, small eyes beneath bushy brows, flushed cheeks and thin lips. His wig was elaborately braided and he clutched a tall gilded staff topped with a representation of the god in his crocodile form. His pectoral was a depiction of Sobek as Crocodile, done in turquoise, coral and jet. It was eye catching, but nothing compared to the glory of her gold collar and emeralds.

“Lady Tyema, High Priestess of Sobek in the Ibis Nome,” Edekh intoned, thumping his staff on the floor as if she were royalty.

The under priests bowed but the Theban high priest merely nodded, his eyes fastened on the Tears of Sobek around Tyema’s neck.  She suppressed a grin at his avaricious stare.

The door across the room, which only Pharaoh himself could use, opened and Nat-re-Akhte entered the chamber, saying as he crossed the gilded threshold, “No need to genuflect, this isn’t a formal audience.” Today he wore no crown but had the golden uraeus on his brow, held in place by a golden circlet. He carried the blue-and-gold crook and flail of his rank, ritually positioned across his chest.

She stood aside as Nat-re-Akhte walked past her to his chair, which was a golden marvel, depicting intricate scenes of himself with various gods that were far too detailed for Tyema to fully absorb in one glance. The chair rested on intricately carved lion paws, and was set on a slightly raised dais at the head of the gleaming wooden table. The ever present fan bearers took up station behind Pharaoh and Edekh walked to a place at his right hand.

“You may be seated,” Pharaoh said, placing the crook and flail on the table in front of him. “Which day is going to be the most propitious for this ceremony?” He gave Tyema a conspiratorial smile. “My zookeeper tells me the beast has already devoured all the fish in his pond and they’ve had to restock.”

“I’ve cast the omens, Great One, and the day after tomorrow is the ideal date for the new ruler of the bask to be presented to the people of Thebes and installed at our temple,” said the High Priest, displaying no hesitation.

Pharaoh nodded and Edekh made a note. Tyema sat back in her chair as the men discussed the arrangements for the procession. The city officials were also silent for the most part, apparently in the meeting to receive instructions, not to make suggestions. She had no opinion about the parade, the local Sobek priests knew their own city and how to organize things here. Perhaps she would have put the second troupe of dancing girls before the sacred image of Sobek, not after as they were going to do, but Tyema had no feeling it mattered to the Crocodile God, so she only nodded when Pharaoh courteously asked her opinion.

The high priest continued his rundown of the sequence of events. “And when we arrive at the temple, I’ll greet you with the hymn of the seventh hour—”

“After I’ve sung the hymn of the Abundant Nile,” Tyema said. She felt a tightening in her gut, sure now they would be in opposition. He’d rather I played no part in the day’s ceremonies. He probably wishes I’d just sent the crocodile with only old Hotepre for escort. Well, for that matter, so do I, but the Great One wanted it otherwise.

The older priest cleared his throat for a moment, blinking. Clearly he wasn’t used to being interrupted. “No need for you to exert yourself, I’m sure. It’s one of the older, less well known hymns after all.  You can sing a brief blessing on the bask at the end of the ceremonies, if you wish. Now then, as I was saying—”

“The Great One Sobek particularly enjoys the ‘Abundant Nile’, since it praises his efforts to keep the life giving waters flowing freely,” Tyema said, cutting across his words, her voice clear. “As he is sending his crocodile to you, personally selected by him, we need to thank him appropriately.”

The men from the Theban temple gawked at her. Color becoming even hotter in his gaunt cheeks, the high priest blew out a breath. “My dear girl, we’re duly conscious of the honor the Great One does us here at Thebes. I merely see no need to slow the tempo of the ceremony with additional music. The crowd will naturally wish to see the crocodile installed in the pond as soon as possible.”

From the Author’s collection

“As High Priestess, it’s my responsibility to conduct the crocodile to your temple and to make the official transfer in proper order,” she said, not at all abashed by his dismissive manner. When it came to anything regarding her duty to Sobek, Tyema felt as if some measure of his strength ran in her veins, and no condescending old man from Thebes could silence her. “I’ll sing ‘Abundant Nile,’ after which you can sing whatever you feel is most appropriate to accept the gift of Sobek and then we’ll proceed to the pond. Whether our audience is one person or ten thousand people, we must honor the Great One Sobek properly.”

“Well,” Pharaoh said, his voice solemn but his eyes twinkling, “The list of songs is decided then.”

“Duly noted,” Edekh assured him as the palace scribe by his side made rapid inscriptions on his tablet. The temple scribe shot a wary look at his superiors, but then scratched some notes as well.

There was an awkward moment of silence. Pharaoh raised his hand and gestured in a lazy circular motion at the priest. “Continue.”

The man opened and closed his mouth several times before swallowing a sip of wine from the clay goblet his under priest handed him. “Um, yes, um, at the pond, we’ll open the crate—”

“The child of Sobek doesn’t travel through Thebes in a crate,” Tyema interrupted.

“You’re not seriously proposing to have a dangerous Nile crocodile carried loose in the procession, are you?” the old man spluttered.

“Sobek has given me the gift of controlling his children of the Nile when circumstances warrant. I’ll ensure the animal remains calm during the parade through the city, docile until he’s installed in the pond,” Tyema said.

“I’ve seen this gift or power in action, exactly as the Lady Tyema indicates,” Pharaoh agreed.

“It would be most exciting,” said one of the younger priests, enthusiasm causing him to speak boldly, earning himself a glare from the High Priest. “Imagine the effect on the crowds, the crocodile on full display, yet posing no danger.”

“Sobek has selected a magnificent animal to rule over your bask,” Tyema said. “The beast has the rare purple underbelly. It can only benefit your temple to have the people of Thebes behold this marvelous creature, not have him hidden away in a crate.”

“Consequences will be on your head if this goes awry, if the beast causes injury,” the old priest said, his eyes flashing in anger. He bit his lip and glanced at Pharaoh, seeming to regret his outburst.

Tyema laid a hand on the collar, touching the emeralds. “Where’s your faith in Sobek, the god we both serve?”

“Any other concerns?” Pharaoh asked the high priest, his tone mild.

“No, Great One. I’m satisfied with the arrangements,” he said, sounding as if he was forcing the words out one by one.

“I’ll need to inspect the pond,” Tyema said, tapping her fingers on the table as she mentally reviewed her list of requirements. “I’m sure all your arrangements are in order, but I can’t bring Sobek’s gift to you with all the pomp and ceremony, only to find some problem in front of Pharaoh and the crowds.”

Now she thought the old priest was going to have a full-on fit, especially as Pharaoh was nodding agreement with her. “Excellent forethought, Lady Tyema,” the ruler said.

Depositphotos

The Story:

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!

Amazon   Apple Books    Barnes & Noble     Google Play Books  Kobo