The Age of Ra

23. Nephthys

Ra is drawn to a corner of his Solar Barque by the sound of weeping. Nephthys is crouched on deck, her face in her hands. Each sob that passes through her is like a small death. Her body jerks as though stabbed.

''Come, come,'' says Ra gently, kneeling beside his great-great-niece. ''What's this? I won't have people crying on my boat. It's not allowed.''

Nephthys looks up, pink-eyed. As the tears spill down her face, Ra thinks of a flash flood, a river bursting its banks in rainy season, arid land inundated. With his thumbs he wipes her cheeks dry. The sobs subside. Nephthys regains her composure.

''Forgive me, O Ra,'' she says, sniffing. ''You weren't supposed to see me like this. I came to talk to you, to ask your advice, but then… it all got too much… overwhelming…''

She seems on the verge of crumpling, but manages to maintain control of her emotions.

''Hush,'' soothes Ra. ''It's all right. Don't be upset. What's the matter?''

''Can we go somewhere private?''

Ra looks round. Maat and Thoth are within earshot, but both of them are discreetly minding their own business. Maat keeps a steady hand on the tiller, guiding the Boat of a Million Years along the river of day, with faithful Ammut as ever at her feet. Thoth is studying the ripples on the water's surface, seemingly absorbed in contemplation. Amidships, Bast lies curled on her divan, asleep. In the bows, Set is likewise asleep, exhausted after his latest bout with the serpent Apophis.

''You can rest assured, nothing you say to me here will go any further.''

''Even so,'' says Nephthys, with a glance towards her brother-husband.

Ra nods, and he leans back and opens his heart to her, and all is light and heat. They are surrounded by perfect white fire. They are standing at the centre of the sun. It's a place to which none may go unless invited by Ra, and into which none may pry. Here, atoms crackle and bubble like eggs on a skillet, and everything is a swirl of blazing creation. This is the crucible of life, the furnace that forges existence.

''Tell me then,'' says Ra. ''Why the tears?''

Nephthys is not a relative Ra has any strong feelings for, or against. She is, he has always felt, a little too in thrall to others to be truly interesting, and there is an air of duplicity about her, a kind of meek maliciousness which her sweet, heart-shaped face only just disguises. Nonetheless he regards her with fondness, as he does almost everyone, and he hates to see her upset.

''You're aware,'' she begins, ''of the infidel attacks on my domain.''

''I am.''

''And of how Wepwawet has suffered the indignity of seeing one of his few shrines despoiled by these unbelievers.''

''Sobek was a victim too, I understand. And there were others.''

''Wepwawet is unwell as a result.''

''I'm sorry to hear that.''

''My grandson has always been sickly,'' says Nephthys. ''His worshippers are few and far between, and he is overshadowed by his father. His dearest wish is to follow in Anubis's footsteps and rule over legions of death-lovers, but I'm afraid he lacks the drive and the influence. He will never be anything but a pale imitation. And now, poor creature, he is ailing, so thin you can almost see through him. It's heartbreaking. How I would love to see these wicked, faithless humans destroyed. I would gladly have them erased from the earth.''

She is close to crying once more. Only with great effort does she steel herself and stem the flow of tears.

Why do women cry when they are angry? It is a mystery even to great Ra. The fact that they do, however, makes their anger all the more devastating. They appear vulnerable just when they are at their most dangerous.

''O Nephthys,'' he says, ''your desire for vengeance is well warranted, and if it is your intention to visit retribution upon this Lightbringer and his cohorts, far be it from me to stand in your way. The blow that they have struck against you and your near kin is an offence of great magnitude. Although it is my belief that there is altogether too much strife and suffering among the mortals at present, in this instance I feel I can make an exception. The Lightbringer is not fighting at the behest of any god, he is fighting against us, all of us, and that must not be permitted. So if you and your husband wish to set about eliminating him-''

''My husband?'' Nephthys lets out a hollow, corroded laugh. ''Set? What do you think I'm doing here, talking to you? Set isn't paying attention to this matter. Set, in fact, doesn't seem to care. Wepwawet…''

She halts, and Ra realises she cannot bring herself to say what she would like to. Wepwawet, son of Anubis, is unquestionably her grandson. But is he Set's also? Strictly speaking, no. Not if, as is widely accepted, Anubis's real father is Osiris.

''Well,'' she says, ''Set does not seem to be able to find a great deal of time for Wepwawet.''

Nephthys cannot admit the truth, at least not out loud. Shame and decorum prevent her. She and Set and Osiris and even Isis are all entangled in the coils of a deception. They share in a family secret which they have covered up but which none of them can fully forget, or forgive. It is at the core of all their arguments. It is the root cause of the rift that divides them.

''Set…'' says Ra, ruminating.

All at once he perceives that he has penetrated to the heart of the matter, and with the realisation comes the possibility of a solution to the deadlock that exists between his descendants. As with any sudden flash of insight, it seems obvious, an answer that has been sitting there in plain view, waiting to be stumbled upon.

''Nephthys,'' he says, placing his hands upon her shoulders, ''let us be honest with each other, shall we?''

The goddess blinks and nods.

''Your brother-husband is difficult to get on with. I understand that. Set is a sullen creature, prone to fits of pique and envy. He resents it when things do not go his way. His manner is cool towards you, sometimes cruel. But remember this. You did betray him.''

Nephthys opens her mouth to protest. The graveness in Ra's eyes makes her close it again without uttering a word.

''You slept with Osiris,'' he continues. ''Whether or not Osiris knowingly slept with you, that's between him and his conscience. Either you fooled him or he fooled himself. Let's not get into that now. The fact remains, adultery was committed and a bastard son was the result. You and Set have maintained a careful facade ever since, a unified front. Set knows Anubis isn't his son but has tried to treat him as though he is. Hasn't succeeded, but at least, to his credit, has tried. You, meanwhile, continue to cosy up to Osiris and Isis — Isis particularly, since you and she are as close as any sisters could be. You would rather spend time with the two of them than with your own spouse, and that's perhaps not surprising. But it deepens Set's hatred of them. I am not defending Set here. I am not making a case to justify his behaviour. I am merely pointing out that he has a legitimate grudge against you, and against Osiris, and if he doesn't share you sense of righteous grievance right now, it is perhaps explicable. However…''

Ra beams.

''However, all that being said, I am willing to talk to Set for you. I will do my utmost to persuade him to do something about the Lightbringer, in tandem with you. It would give me great pleasure to see you and him standing shoulder to shoulder against this human interloper, this self-styled enemy of the Pantheon.''

''Together,'' says Nephthys, ''how easy it would be for us to get rid of him.''

''Indeed. And when you do, you will be doing us all a favour. But — there is a condition. A quid pro quo.''

''Yes?''

''In return, you have to confess all.''

Her face falls. ''You mean…?''

''About how you duped Osiris. About how Anubis is Osiris's son. Make a clean breast of it. Get it all out in the open. So that there are no more lies. No more secrets festering away. Announce it to the entire Pantheon. Tell everyone. Tell, above all else, Isis.''

''But Isis already knows. Sort of.''

''Sort of. Strongly suspects, I'd say.''

''She'll kill me.''

''I think not. She has remained your friend all this time, in spite of having a pretty shrewd idea what you did. I think she will still be your friend after you reveal the truth. She may even love you all the more for your bravery and honesty in owning up to what you did.''

Nephthys looks doubtful — and yet hopeful. ''Ra, it will be hard.''

''But worth it,'' says Ra, and he kisses her forehead, and they are aboard the Solar Barque once more, whose gleaming effulgence, dazzling though it may be, is but a candle compared to the brilliance that burns within Ra's heart.

Nephthys departs, brimming with promises and good intentions. Ra pivots on the spot, directing his gaze towards where Set lies, still asleep. Both Maat and Thoth watch him as he strides towards the slumbering figure. They note resolve and satisfaction in his gait. They, these two divine pillars of wisdom, understand that Ra has at last come by a solution to the conundrum that has been vexing him, and they exchange a wink. The best progress is the progress one makes by oneself, unassisted. They knew he would get there in the end.

Bast stirs as Ra passes, opening one eye, then the other. She sniffs the air, catching wind of a change of mood. She is content. She tucks her head onto her forearms and dozes off again.

Ra has hitherto baulked at approaching Set as part of his peace mission. He has deemed the Lord of the Desert too intransigent, too hotheaded, to be worth dealing with. Now, however, he has a bargaining chip in his back pocket, something to offer Set in exchange for his co-operation. It could make all the difference.

''Set?'' he says.

Set awakes. He rises.

''Ra?''

''Walk with me.''

And they walk.

They walk, as gods may, across the universe. Side by side they stride through the gulfs between worlds, through the dark vastnesses that separate the stars. In a matter of moments they have journeyed to the outermost reaches of Creation, the point at which light and life run out and beyond which lies nothing but an abyss, pure, cold, perfect emptiness. From this vantage, looking back, the entire cosmos seems so small that it could be cupped in the palm of one hand, and crushed in the clenching of a fist.

Set gazes around him, shivering. ''Why are we here, Ra? Why have you brought me to this place?'' His voice has no echo. The surrounding void swallows it, deadeningly. ''I don't like it. We're too far from anything that means anything.''

Faced with oblivion, even a god may quail.

''Have you — have you brought me here as punishment? Do you mean to exile me?''

Ra does not calm Set's fears, not immediately. ''We are here to gain perspective,'' he says.

''Perspective?''

''To establish what is important and what is not. Set, I shall speak plainly. You have done bad things in your time. You have tricked; you have deceived. You have fought and harmed. You have made enemies and harboured grudges.''

''O Great Ra, I admit I am not perfect. I'd be the first to say I have not led a blameless life. But in my defence-''

''Let me finish, Set. You'll get your turn. Among your many crimes is the murder — I should say attempted murder — of Osiris.''

''He had it coming.''

Ra holds up a hand. ''Patience. I told you, you'll get your turn. Then there is the matter of your feud with Horus. Who knows what the origins of that are. Everyone seems to have a different opinion. I know that at one stage you raped him. I know also that he tore off your testicles in a fight. There's certainly a strange sort of antagonism going on between the two of you.''

Set's face reddens, almost matching the hue of his eyes and hair. ''I despise Horus,'' he says. ''I wish to see him humiliated.''

''And he you. And yet you and he are so alike in many ways.''

''No one can get under your skin quite like kin,'' says Set.

''Perhaps so. But we shan't dwell on that now. Your final crime is simply one of neglect. You neglect your wife, Set, while she still cleaves submissively to you. You are callous towards your son, not to mention your grandson.''

''I have my reasons.''

''Indeed. Perhaps they are even forgivable ones. But people need their parents whatever age they are. They need the reassurance of knowing their mothers and fathers are always there to be turned to and consulted, or rejected if necessary. They need their unconditional love.''

''I'm a busy man,'' Set says. ''If I neglect my family, it's hardly my fault. I have precious little time to spare even for myself. In case you haven't noticed, I am a permanent 'guest' aboard your barque and have a twice-daily penance to serve.''

''Justice must be done.''

''Injustice, more like.''

''You do not accept responsibility for the wrongs you have done, or the need to atone for them?''

''I claim that there were extenuating circumstances. I have been a victim of slights and offences myself. No one seems to remember that. It's always 'Set insulted me, Set assaulted me', conveniently overlooking the fact that I only did any of those things because someone did something to me first. I have a reputation, I'm the bad apple, so it's open-and-shut as far as the rest of you are concerned. Nobody cares that I've been provoked, that I've been cuckolded and denied high position and publicly embarrassed, that my actions are reactions. Nobody sees my side of the argument. Once you become the villain of the piece, you're the villain of the piece for all time. You don't get the chance to be seen in any other light.''

''Your temper plays a part.''

''True, I do get a little out of hand from time to time.''

''You call tearing Osiris to pieces 'a little out of hand'?''

''I see red. I get carried away. It just happens. It's how I'm made.''

''And here we get to the nub of it,'' says Ra. ''How you're made. Set, do you think it's at all possible that you could change?''

Set is taken aback by the question. It seems that the thought has never occurred to him before.

''Change?'' he says, eyebrows knotting. ''In what way? And, more to the point, why?''

''The way is simple,'' says Ra. ''Be a better person, that's all. Control yourself. Be kind to others. And as for the why, see that?'' He gestures towards the tiny twinkling ember that is the universe, all but lost amid the blackness of the abyss. ''See how small and remote and fragile it looks? As though a casual breath could snuff it out? We are gods, Set, and we are powerful and we live for eons, but still, in the grand scheme of things, we are insignificant. Ultimately, nothing we do is of consequence. We may be big but the eternal void is infinitely bigger.''

''So why bother changing? Why bother doing anything? Isn't that the appropriate response when faced with your own insignificance? If existence is meaningless, it doesn't matter how you behave.''

''That's one way of looking at it, I suppose. The other way is: if existence is meaningless, then why not change? Why not alter your attitude, if only to create meaning?''

''Of a very limited kind.''

''In a limited environment, that's the best you can hope for.''

Set acknowledges this, and Ra detects, or thinks he detects, a glimmer of interest in those scarlet eyes. Set is actually considering the proposal laid before him. Set is intrigued by the idea of changing.

''I wouldn't be me,'' he says, ''if I didn't ask what's in it for me.''

''For a start, if you did sincerely make an effort to improve and become a kinder, gentler, more thoughtful and forgiving Set, I would release you from your penance.''

''Who would battle Apophis in my stead?''

''I would attempt to broker a truce with Apophis. I imagine he is as weary of the relentless conflict as you are, especially given that he comes off worse every time. Failing that, I would fight him myself.''

''An onerous burden for you.''

''Then I pray that negotiation with him succeeds,'' says Ra. ''I think it will. The other benefit for you would be improved relations with all of your family. No longer would you feel this sense of estrangement, of victimhood, that keeps you apart from your kin. If you resolve to become a reformed character, and strive your hardest to keep to that resolution, I think you'll find that attitudes towards you will alter. Others will respond in kind. Most of all your sister-wife will actively enjoy spending time with you, rather than running off to be with Isis at every opportunity. I'm offering you a chance to improve your lot radically. All you have to do is be a new god. Put your past self behind you.''

''I change, and yet no one else has to make the effort to. Hardly seems fair.''

''Nephthys has agreed to change too. She is to confess her adultery with Osiris to all. She will admit she instigated it.''

''Really? After so long, with her falsehood so well entrenched, that will take some courage.''

''And yet she is willing to do it, in order to clear the air between you all, and in order to regain the full love and respect of her husband.''

''Hmm,'' says Set. ''And for my part, how should I begin this process of reform? Any suggestions?''

''Ah, I have a tailor-made solution for you. The Lightbringer.''

''Who? Oh yes. Him.''

''Him. Join with Nephthys and vanquish him. Smash the little mortal upstart. Wipe him and his army off the map.''

Set looks at Ra askance, a smile twitching at his lips. ''The Lightbringer seems to have got under your skin, O Sun God. You sound positively aggravated by him, and you such a mild-mannered type normally.''

''I…'' Ra bows his head. ''I do find him bothersome. I'm not sure why. It may be because I can't 'see' him properly. I look at him and don't know who he is or anything about him. Something is keeping me from identifying and understanding the man. Perhaps it is his Freegyptian genesis, perhaps that mask he wears, I don't know. Some power is… is eclipsing him in my perceptions, and I do not like that, not at all.''

''He is an unknown.''

''Yes. Just so. An unknown. An anomaly. And on those grounds alone I want him off the world. I want him swept away. Him and all his followers.''

''I can arrange that for you.''

''You and Nephthys.''

''Yes. We can rid you of this turbulent human. It would be an honour.''

''And a good start to your bid to improve your standing among the gods.''

''That too. Mutually beneficial.''

Ra appraises Set, and is pleased. The younger god seems truly to be seizing this opportunity. He is eager to chart a new course for himself. And that, in turn, will chart a new course for the rest of the Pantheon, Ra is sure of it. Set is the key. Once he aligns himself with the other gods, universal harmony will ensue.