Fable/Short Story
4 min
The Poison Cure
Daniel Christie
The sweet fumes of wine tempted my senses with every passing second. I mustn't weaken. The fate of the humans I loved was up to me.
The heat crisped my skin, as it did every day. Heliopolis wasn't positioned too far from the flaming Egyptian sun, after all. I didn't need to drink. I didn't need to-"
"I need a drink!" barked Anubis, slumped against one of Heliopolis' many pillars. My emerald skin supplied enough heat to make me sweat. I could only imagine the heat that Anubis' thick black fur absorbed.
"Osiris!" He addressed me. "Give me one of them cups of blood. I'm dying over here!"
I solemnly shook my head. "These cups are not for you or me. They're for another."
Anubis' lips curled back into a snarl. A lazy one, considering how hot he was.
"There has to be dozens of cups. Give me one now, Osiris."
He was disrespecting me. Plenty of the gods feel that they can disrespect me. After Ra retired, I was named King of the Gods. Many of my followers are not yet accustomed to my reign.
"Anubis. Watch your tone. These cups are not for you."
I was about to walk away when I saw the desperation in his eyes. His tongue lolled out of his mouth as he panted over and over again. I didn't want to be quite as distant of a leader as Ra was. Naturally, I sat beside him.
"These cups are not of blood, you know. They are a new invention which I created myself: crushed grapes make up most of it. It's called ‘wine.'"
Anubis furrowed his brow. He clearly thirsted for sacrificial livestock, as any good-natured deity would.
"Who the cups for?" he asked, adjusting his slump to a posture of more dignity.
My gaze shifted across Heliopolis. No deity appeared to be listening, so I shared my plan.
"These cups are for Sekhmet."
Upon hearing the goddess' name, Anubis yelped slightly. His ears somehow ascended higher out of pure shock.
"Osiris. You should reconsider whatever you're planning. Sekhmet is the most bloodthirsty of all of the gods. Give her anything besides her daily human entrails, and she'll most definitely fly into a rage!"
I held out my hand to his face. A signal to keep quiet.
"What you say is true, Anubis. All of it."
Anubis stared impatiently at me, so I continued.
"Sekhmet has entered a state of rage. Ra's order was to slaughter only the disobedient among the humans, yet she takes pride in the undoing of all mankind. I seek to use this red-colored drink to finally quell her rage."
I could tell that I piqued Anubis' interest. That wasn't easy. Doing the same routine every day as God of Embalming has made Anubis difficult to impress.
"And how do dozens of crushed grapes stop ol' Lion Head from killing?"
Perfect. He asked the question I was hoping to answer.
"Wine is pure, one could say divine in small doses. However, if Sekhmet quenches herself with as much wine as she does blood, the wine becomes a dangerous poison."
"Enough to kill her?" asked Anubis.
"No." I answered. "I have no intention of killing Sekhmet. Only setting her straight. The poison will, at first, impair her judgment. However, after a day of being under its influence, she will see everything clearly. It will cause a burden on her health, but she will at last see her overindulgence for what it is."
Anubis nodded, but I could tell that his attention was drawn mostly to the wine.
"Those who overindulge will learn a harsh truth when they excessively drink this? I mean, I'm pretty abstemious. You sure I can't have just one?"
"When you are sure of your intention, perhaps. But remember, the sweet taste can easily prelude overindulgence. For now, all thirty glasses are filled for Sekhmet."
As if on cue, the enormous lion-headed goddess crashed into Heliopolis. The stench of fresh blood wafted from her muscular body. Slung across her shoulder were mutilated bodies of innocent human laborers.
"Hey, jackal," she addressed Anubis. "Got you a few hundred more corpses to mummify."
Sekhmet's unparalleled fangs glinted with pride. They were scarlet red with bloodstains.
Anubis nodded and avoided eye contact. He never felt comfortable around loud and impulsive gods such as Sekhmet.
She turned her head to face me. Her cocky smile vanished.
"King Osiris. My duty is complete. Thank you for maintaining the prosperity of Egypt."
Sekhmet always addresses me with the utmost respect. It is one of her more admirable qualities. She knows who her leader is.
"Thank you for your service, Sekhmet," I responded. "As a token of thanks, I have prepared your post-slaughter drink. Fresh harvest from the fields."
Everybody hears what they want to hear, so Sekhmet smiled ear to ear.
"Spoils from the King. I love my job!"
From a new corner, Anubis watched as Sekhmet gorged herself on drink after drink after drink. I left the scene at a leisurely pace. I knew exactly what would happen to Sekhmet's mind. More importantly, I expected my plan to work to end Sekhmet's greed. Never again will she overindulge.
The sun set slowly over Heliopolis, casting long shadows across the temple. As Sekhmet's roars of satisfaction turned to drunken murmurs, I felt a calmness settle over the city. For once, the relentless heat seemed to soften, and the air carried a promise of change. While I hope not to be as distant as Ra had been, who among us haven't considered poison to be a reasonable cure?
This was an entry for a writing contest held in conjunction with Center for Fiction and The Decameron Project
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