Vessels (Part 4)

Ashira grumbled as she exited the temple. She didn’t understand why she had to leave the catacombs. She knew Jeshed worked with the dead and it was he who had told her that she didn’t have anything to fear from them; that she should be more afraid of crocodiles when playing near the river. But Jeshed also said that a girl shouldn’t be present during certain rituals. He then finished by saying he couldn’t let her be on her own in the temple, to undoubtedly pester the other priests. Thus, she had been exiled from the calm coolness of her home and ousted into the loud brightness of the day.

At least she wasn’t going to be alone. Ashira marched down to the market to find Geb. She hoped he was busy. She would help him, and he would be so grateful. Jeshed would think she was a wonderful girl and maybe realize she was responsible. She would be taught priestly fellahin magic for certain and maybe get to keep a cat.

With an eager grin, she approached Wed’s stall. The old man wasn’t behind it, but two girls were waiting for him to come help them. They stood by a fellahin with a basket on its back. They were about Ashira’s age, all slender, stately things and were clad in loose white dresses. One was fair and had hair the color of honey. Lilies adorned her head. The other girl had dark hair like Ashira and even darker skin. She had a white ribbon around her throat. She smiled at Ashira but the fair one ignored her.

Geb came limping from a nearby house. He looked tired and worn but his eyes sparkled with eagerness. He glanced at Ashira and stopped.

“They were first,” Ashira said and stepped back to emphasize her point. She wasn’t in any hurry.

That seemed to orient Geb. He stepped behind the kiosk. “How can I help you today?” he asked the girls.

“Ah…we’re here for a dozen coconuts,” the dark-skinned girl said. She furrowed her brow, thinking hard about her list. Ashira smiled. She knew what that was like. “And…two dozen pomegranates and a dozen olives.”

“Pomegranates and olives, I have,” Geb replied, “But I’m afraid we do not have any coconuts. Those have to be imported far from the south and the caravan from Nur hasn’t been by yet.”

The fair one gave a noise of frustration. “That isn’t our problem.”

Geb bowed deep, just like Wed would do. “I am sorry. I can let you know when the shipment arrives. You’re from the shrine of Neferamtat, yes? Mistress Napshut has always been a good customer; you’ll be the first to know.”

“Come on, Munu,” the fair girl huffed. “I’m sure someone else has coconuts.”

“I assure you, they don’t,” Geb said. “While we get our regional produce from different suppliers around here, we merchants are forced to all get our coconuts from the same source, that late Nur caravan.”

The fair girl flushed. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to buy from this place anyway.”

“But Haphet…the mistress told us to go to this stand specifically,” Munu said.

“She probably doesn’t know that the merchant is a diseased wretch,” the fair one, Haphet replied. “Did you see his leg? Disgusting. I’m doing our shrine a favor.”

“Wretch?” Ashira stood in front of the girls, glowering. “He’s not a wretch. You take that back!”

Haphet tossed her hair. “I don’t think I will. Who are you, anyway?”

Munu tugged at her companion’s arm. “Just apologize!”

“Why? Am I supposed to know about this girl with a crooked haircut?” Haphet scoffed.

“Jeshed did the best he could!” Ashira shouted. “He doesn’t know girl hair!”

“Haphet, that’s the River Child!” Munu warned.

Haphet looked at Ashira for a long moment. “She is no one. If she were blessed by the river, she’d be living at our shrine. Instead, she lives in the catacombs. Isn’t that right?”

“What of it?” Ashira asked.

Haphet giggled. “She doesn’t even know to be embarrassed. Living with the dead is something to be ashamed of. That’s why the priests of Enu-Bal only have rituals every seven years. Otherwise, they’re left alone to be ghoulish and weird.”

“You think they’re shameful, but you use their fellahin, same as everybody else,” Ashira said, pointing at the dead servant with a basket on its back.

Haphet flushed. “Munu, let’s go. We can find the things the mistress wants at other places.”

Munu looked panicked, like she was torn in two directions. Once Haphet got far enough way, she gave a nervous half-bow in Ashira’s direction and turned to the fellahin. She produced a black pronged rod that was about two hands long. It looked like a smaller version of the heqa scepters that Jeshed and Eshmedi used. Munu tapped the fellahin with it.

“Let’s go,” she commanded.

The fellahin stood in that completely still way that only stone and the dead can.

Munu tapped again. “We have to go!” she urged. It was too late. Haphet had noticed Munu’s delay and was stomping back to see what was causing the problem. She wrested the rod from Munu and gave the fellahin a good smack with it.

“Come!” Haphet shouted at the fellahin.

A pleasant breeze blew through the marketplace, but the fellahin did not move. Ashira went to Geb’s side to watch the show. Haphet smacked and shouted, this time louder and harder but nothing would get the fellahin to obey. When Ashira couldn’t hold in her laughter any more, Haphet marched up to her and thrust the rod at her.

“You people do poor work. It’s broken,” she said.

“Have you tried asking it nicely?” Ashira smirked.

“I’ll tell the mistress about this. Then she’ll have a word with…with whomever oversees the making of these things,” Haphet said.

“He’ll just tell her the same thing.” Ashira had no idea what the procedure would be for fixing an unresponsive fellahin, but she enjoyed seeing the other girl flustered. Haphet grabbed Munu and pulled her along as they retreated, leaving the fellahin and the rod behind.

With a victorious grin, Ashira turned to Geb. He did not return her smile. Instead, he set about rearranging the fruit in the displays, looking at anything other than Ashira.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“You made me lose a customer,” he said.

“You don’t want customers like that. She was awful.”

“That’s not how a merchant should think. Customers don’t have to be kind to you. They just have to give you money at the end. My father is going to be upset when I explain this,” Geb said.

“Do you have to tell him?” she asked.

“He’ll want to know about that.” He pointed at the inert fellahin.

Ashira squinted up at the masked cadaver, sizing it up. “I’ve never heard of a fellahin that suddenly stopped working.” She circled around it, trying to spot an obvious reason. “I’ll go ask Jeshed.”

“I’ll get in trouble either way. My father will find out before you get back,” Geb said.

“Throw a blanket over it and cheer up! I’m trying to help!” Ashira grinned and punched the morose boy in the arm. “We can get him fixed, load him up with what they needed and send him back to Neferamtat’s shrine. We’ll put some flowers on him and make him look pretty.”

“Make who look pretty?” a reedy voice asked. Wed set down the large sack he was carrying. “I trust everything went well while I was away?” Geb began to cry and pointed at the fellahin. He tried to speak but he just kept stuttering. Wed stood patiently, and his silence made Geb tremble even worse.

“He thinks he lost a customer, but it was really my fault!” Ashira finally interrupted. “There were girls from the Neferamtat shrine and you didn’t have coconuts so one of them was mean to Geb and I yelled at her and then her fellahin wouldn’t work!”

“And the girls left?” Wed asked.

“Yes.”

He began sorting the contents of his bag, placing coconuts into a large woven basket. “Napshut seeks to test her pupils, just as I try to test my boy. I’d say hers fared worse than mine.”

“Really?” Geb hiccupped.

“Oh yes,” Wed replied. “Priestesses of Neferamtat are always to be elegant and poised. Always.”

Ashira gasped at the coconuts. “Did the caravan arrive?”

“They had some trouble on the road but yes, they are here. Most of them, at least,” Wed said. “Bandits are getting bold along the southern roads. These are dangerous times we are living in.”

Geb sniffed. “I’m sorry.”

Wed smiled. “Here’s some advice. Sometimes, there is just no pleasing a customer. Some people just set out about their day, refusing to be satisfied with anything. Disappointment is like the sweetest of honey to them. Don’t let their words hold any sway for you. Do your best, and when they leave in a huff, do your best for the next customer. He’ll see how you kept a cool head and gain trust in you.”

“What about him?” Ashira pointed at the fellahin.

“Oh. Throw a blanket over it and tell Jeshed. He’ll know what to do.”

Ashira and Geb laughed. They retrieved a large burlap sack and together, they were able to cover most of the servant except for his knees and feet. She showed Wed the rod Haphet left behind.

“Oh, Napshut is going to be furious she hears about this,” Wed chuckled.

“Why?” Ashira asked.

“When someone rents out a fellahin from the priests of Enu-Bal, they are also given the rod that allows them to control that particular servant. It’s very valuable,” Wed explained, twirling the sleek black stick in his hand. “I wish we could afford to rent a fellahin. Maybe you could convince Master Jeshed to give us a discount?” The old merchant waggled his eyebrows.

“I will try. But why did he stop working?” Ashira turned to the fellahin. “Maybe you’re just tired.”

“I don’t think they can even get tired,” Geb said. “Don’t they wear down over time?”

“They should be good for seven years at least.” Ashira peeked up the blanket and patted the fellahin on the foot. “Poor thing. You really should go back to the shrine. They’re probably upset now.”

The fellahin took a slow, plodding step. Geb gasped and Ashira sprang back onto her rear. The fellahin continued forward, despite the heavy burlap blanket covering it.

“I thought you said you needed that rod to control it!” Geb said, shaken.

“From what I know, you do,” Wed said, giving a smile of gentle confusion. “Well, best not waste momentum, children. Lead that fellahin back to the temple.”

“Don’t you need me to take care of the shop today?” Geb asked.

“You did enough for today. Go have fun with your friend.”

“But you were going to teach me how to close up the kiosk!”

“That can wait. Stop arguing and go play,” Wed said, a little harder this time. He handed Ashira the control rod, smiling regretfully. “I am an honest man. Make sure you give this back to Master Jeshed.”

“I will!” Ashira chased after the fellahin and managed to catch up to it easily enough. Geb hobbled off and helped her pull the blanket off the lurching servant. Together, they slowly ascended the hill to Uftem Temple.