Finally the door was opened and two initiates from Egypt led Sumi through the crowd. The people yelled out with renewed excitement. Suddenly the cymbals clanged with renewed fervor and the clamor of a solitary bell rang out joyously in line with her every step. She felt the presence of nearly a thousand huddling close to catch a glimpse of her as she was led toward the wooden steps of the ceremonial platform.
The entire settlement was filled with people. Never before had there been such a gathering! Scantily clad desert wanderers stood next to royal kings and wise men from Arabia. Beneath her veil she spotted Indians from the South and yellow-skinned counselors from the East. Many held aloft a flag or banner from their people. Warriors from throughout the plains had gathered, along with merchants from Shinar and royal princes from Nubia. Children of all ages and shades of color played at the feet of their parents, or sobbed in apparent confusion. Even camels, horses and donkeys in ceremonial costume stood obediently on the outskirts of the crowd.
She was led toward the platform, which rose above the crowd. It was splendidly adorned with beautiful tapestries and clusters of desert flowers gathered from all corners of the plains. As she ascended the steps the cries of celebration became almost deafening. When she reached the top, her father, Remai, embraced her.
“You will always be dear to my heart,” Remai whispered in her ear. Taking her by the hand, he walked Sumi to the front of the platform and presented her to the people. The excitement of countless voices rose to such fervor that even the platform began to shake from the sound. Upon seeing the multitude before her, Sumi turned her eyes nervously toward the ground. Remai led her to stand next to the young groom, and the couple joined hands.
A rush of love filled her chest as Sumi grew brave enough to look upon the man she was to marry. Joell’s own stark features returned her gaze with a look of nervousness and protective love. He was completely attired in white, stunning, tall and handsome, standing high above the crowd.
The Egyptian high priest stepped to the front of the platform and, as if by command, an awed silence spread throughout the crowd. He raised his long staff and summoned the attention of the multitudes. As he spoke it was in a manner known only to the ancients. His words became magnified in volume so that those standing upon the settlement’s farthest reaches could hear him with the same ease as those who stood near the platform.
“Rejoice and be glad!” his words echoed above the crowd, “for hope springs anew this day in the desert.” He waited for the cries to subside, turning to peer out upon all corners of the settlement. “Through this union peace may again fill the plains. Before you just now is the hope of a new beginning. You have become a chosen people. For this reason, ALL HUMANITY LOOKS NEXT TO YOU. I charge each of you to become worthy of this, the next hope of the world, for should you falter humankind stumbles with you.”
The high priest gathered his thoughts and continued, “By this union comes renewed hope for the land. From their seed shall come a great soul . . . one in whom the way will be shown. Therefore, I say be glad. It is a time for celebration!”
The Egyptian turned from the crowd and faced Joell and Sumi. A hush fell over the multitude as the high priest bowed before the young couple. When he next spoke, only the young couple could hear his words:
“Your firstborn shall be a son,” the high priest assured them. “He shall be proclaimed ruler over all your peoples and the peoples of the plains. He shall guide you back to the One.”
He turned to Sumi with compassion in his eyes: “You shall send me this son when he is seven and I will show him the ways of the One and the wonders of Egypt. When the day comes that he is ready to reign and his people are ready for hope, I shall return him to the desert. Follow him and you shall be a great nation, a people set apart for all the world to see.”
Suddenly Sumi began to smile. She was to become a mother. She was going to have a son.
“It is your story,” Esdena said finally when Ravi had not moved to speak. “And as such, it is the destiny before you.”
Ravi shook his head in disbelief, his gleaming black hair brushing his noble shoulders. The words nearly choked in his throat, “I cried and thought my world ended when Sumi sent me to you in Egypt and now the same shall come to pass when I leave.”
“Such is birth and death.” The high priest motioned a female initiate in the doorway to enter. “We come into the world yelping and sobbing with tears and often leave in the same manner and yet, what awaits our arrival on either side is often so beautiful that when the time comes we may find ourselves hesitant, once again, to leave.”
The female initiate watched Ravi with deep love and respect as he rose to his feet. His handsome frame and the power of his presence caused her to sigh under her breath.
“Father, I must accept your decision,” Ravi said softly, “but you cannot imagine how loudly Egypt cries out for me to stay.”
In spite of his best efforts, Esdena’s own eyes began to tear, “My son, truly I do understand, for it will be harder for you to leave Ra Ta’s Egypt than it has been for any since the birth of the Nile. But you must dare to do right. The desert has long awaited you.”
Ravi nodded to himself, whispering softly as he left the room, “Dare to do what is right . . . ”
Silence filled the room as the initiate and the old man were left alone. “He must leave,” Esdena replied finally, “it would be wrong to allow him to stay.”
“Does he know who he is?” the initiate asked hopefully just under her breath.
“Beesh-peesh,” the old priest silenced her with a wave of his hand, “it is not ours to tell him.”
“Where is Bestreld?” Croesus demanded furiously. The emperor was not known for his patience. He pounded the back of his gilded chair with an angry fist. “What can be keeping him?”
“He has been summoned my lord,” Eliot replied from a safe distance. As servant and principal guard to the emperor, the brown-skinned man was used to such outbursts—though familiarity did not ease his tension. He glanced uneasily at one of the other guards.
“And Bestreld knows it is I who await him?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“He is a fool to provoke me!”
“Yes, my lord.”
Croesus snorted angrily. He paced behind his throne, slapping the back of his chair from time to time when he could no longer control himself. As his face became a darker hue of red, Eliot and the other guards simply diverted their eyes in helplessness.
It had often been said, though not within the ears of the emperor, that it was a shame Croesus had inherited all of his father’s looks yet none of the man’s compassion. Instead, Croesus possessed his mother’s temperament—a hot-blooded princess from Crete, exiled to Lydia in a marriage she had never desired.
The emperor’s hard footsteps created a worn path in the rug’s design. Standing tall and mighty, he commanded attention as a man, let alone as the emperor. He momentarily toyed with the idea of summoning the head of the royal guard and having Bestreld executed but the rash decision would be regretted. Bestreld, as exchequer to the kingdom, was the only one with any grasp of Lydia’s