A brilliant light shone in Yami's face, a ray of bright morning sunlight. This bright sunshine did not match his mood; he did not feel at all bright. Today he had to accompany his father to the execution of some criminals in the centre of Thebes. These two criminals had committed a heinous crime; they had tried to kill the pharaoh. With a crime this serious, the pharaoh had to attend the execution. He was taking his son with him to get him used to the sight of death, one day Yami would have to kill, and he had to be prepared for it. Personally Yami wasn't surprised that these two people had tried to kill his father, his father wasn't exactly a brilliant pharaoh, he overtaxed the people and imposed harsh penalties to those who couldn't pay them. The land was in turmoil, Egypt's enemies in the south and west were beginning to look like trouble again, and as a result taxes had been raised even more to raise money to protect Egypt. However, the care that the pharaoh took protecting his important and most prosperous areas was not extended to poorer areas. As a result, these areas were attacked, and people had lost their lives. The two men to be sentenced were from one of these areas, their entire families had been killed, and there had been nothing in their minds but revenge. They had come in secret to Thebes and managed to enter the palace. It was not known how this was accomplished, but the men were caught by the guards as they were trying to poison the pharaoh's food.
Yami burrowed back under the covers, perhaps he could pretend he was sick, and not have to go to the executions. He really didn't want to have to go, his father would be trying to tell him how important going to an execution was, how it showed your power and authority, and the crowd would be shouting and throwing insults at the pharaoh until the guards threatened them. Usually on occasions like this the very appreciative crowd would throw rotten vegetables and tomatoes as a sign of their love for their ruler, usually missing, but some usually found their targets. Yami didn't want to go as he was always embarrassed by his father's behaviour and did not wish to be associated with him. But Yami was not going to be allowed to sleep, oh no, the slave shook him until he woke up, and refused to leave the room until Yami was dressed. Yami grumbled to himself as he made his way to his father's chambers, walking through the winding passages. "Ah, there you are Yami, I almost thought you wouldn't come," Yami's father said as Yami entered the room, "I was about to send a slave to look for you". "I'm sorry, I overslept" Yami said moodily, though he was eighteen, he often still acted like a child. "Well you're here now, so let's go", Yami's father put an arm around his son's shoulders as they exited his chambers. Yami cringed at the touch, his father disgusted him, and he wasn't looking forward to the day ahead at all.
The way to the execution was just as Yami had imagined it, the vegetables, the insults, as they made their way to the town square to see the executions. The two men were brought before the crowd and their crime announced. "These two men have attempted to kill the son of Ra, they have been judged and sentenced to death," called out the executioner. The two men were roughly hauled to the two hangman's nooses and made to put the loops around their necks. Just as the knots were being tightened, both men began to curse the pharaoh with all their might. As the second man was about to die, a strange light came into his eyes as he whispered, "You will soon be standing here pharaoh, soon it will be your turn to die..." and then with a choked cry, he died. The pharaoh looked angry with this, but the crowd cheered, but was quickly silent when the pharaoh looked at them ferociously.
The ride back to the palace was even worse than the one away; the crowd had somehow got hold of manure and even more rotten vegetables. Absently, Yami wondered where it had all come from; he thought they'd used it all up on the way there. Perhaps they kept all this especially to throw at the pharaoh? As the chariot was pelted by vegetables, the guards did their best to shield the pharaoh, but to no avail, soon the pharaoh was plastered from head to toe in manure and rotten vegetables and smelt like a farmyard. Yami smothered a laugh, this was probably the best the pharaoh had ever looked, and to complete the look, he had rather fetching hat of manure on his head. The pharaoh's glaring only made it more funny.
"Be silent!" the pharaoh roared as Yami's laugh burst out in the silence, "what are you laughing at?" "Nothing" Yami choked back another laugh unsuccessfully, it burst out and the pharaoh realised that Yami was laughing at him. The pharaoh turned on him in fury, "No-one laughs at me and gets away with it, not even my own son! You are to have ten whiplashes this evening in front of me; in fact, I will personally deliver the blows. That way I can be sure the job is done properly." The guards listened incredulously, they didn't believe the pharaoh would actually go through with it, he was probably just threatening. Yami stared coolly at the pharaoh, "Of course father, if that is to be my punishment", then turned on his heel and walked out of the room without another word.
Later that evening...
Yami entered the room with a calm grace, and glared coolly at his father as he entered. His father was standing in front of the throne, whip in hand. The pharaoh looked up as Yami entered, and returned his son's cold gaze. "Stand here in front of me," he said. In his left hand he held a three- thonged whip with small, sharp pieces of metal on the ends designed to cause the maximum amount of pain. Yami approached his father slowly; placing one foot in front of the other until he stood in front of his father the pharaoh ordered him to remove his clothing so that his back was bared. The pharaoh raised the whip and brought it down hard upon Yami's back, so hard that everyone in the room could hear the crack of the whip as it hit. He did not get the satisfaction of knowing he caused pain though, as Yami gave no reaction even though there were three red stripes on his back. The guards could not believe the pharaoh had done this to his own son, they had not believed he could be that cold-hearted. The pharaoh brought the whip down nine more times; each time leaving three red marks for each stroke. By the time he was finished, Yami's back was red with blood.
Yami straightened up slowly, the muscles in his back protesting with every movement, but he couldn't show weakness to his father, couldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing that he had hurt Yami. He stood up and looked at his father with a cold glare that could have frozen the sun, then he said, "Are you quite finished father, had your fun now, hmm?" and with that, he turned and walked proudly out of the throne room. As he walked past, the guards whispered amongst themselves and stared at his red back, and as he walked blood dripped onto the floor but he continued to walk as if nothing was wrong. Once he reached his room Yami collapsed onto his bed, as the effort of walking through the palace without so much as wincing had taken its toll on him. He was exhausted and his back felt like it was on fire. He dragged himself into his bathing room and summoned the Shadows to heat up the now-cold water, he fumbled and found a bottle of lotus scented bath scent and poured all of it into the bath, the scent was almost overpowering as he let his senses become overrun with the smell of lotus blossoms. He sank down slowly into hot water almost too hot to bear, the heat of the water distracting him from the pain in his back. Without realising, Yami fell asleep in the bath...
Dream sequence
There was a great army in the desert, with a warrior at their head. He couldn't make out the face of the warrior, no matter how hard he tried. All he could make out was that the man carried a bow and a quiver of arrows slung across his back, along with a sword sheathed in a leather scabbard. The warrior's head slowly began to turn in Yami's direction...
end of dream sequence
Just as the warrior turned his head to look at him, the dream ended and he was suddenly aware of being in a freezing cold bath. He leapt out of the bath, cursing loudly, doing so in turn aggravated his injuries and he was brought up short, causing more oaths and curses to spill from his mouth. He was still highly disturbed and intrigued by his dream, but that was forgotten as he tried, with little success, to put on clothes without aggravating his back. His foot caught in his trousers and he fell onto the floor, realising that he had put both feet into the same hole. He suddenly became furious with the trousers and burned them up with a small blast of power from the Shadows. Eventually he just settled for a light cloth tunic, comfortable after his injuries (and because there was no chance of getting into a fight with a tunic, unlike with trousers) and then returned to the great hall for the evening meal.
Later, as he retired to go to bed, he began to think of his dream again, it had seemed so real that he could feel the sand blowing in his face and feel the heat of the midday sun. This dream seemed to have some meaning; perhaps it was a vision of the future, one thing was certain, the man at the head of that army was very important. He sank into a deep sleep.
Dream sequence
Once again he saw the army in the desert, but the man was no longer there. The dream suddenly flashed to a dark scene, with a shadowy figure creeping through what seemed to be a stand of trees; this was the bowman of Yami's previous dream. The man seemed to be injured, and suddenly the man turned, as if he realised he was being watched...
end of dream sequence
... and the dream abruptly ended. Yami awoke to bright morning sunshine, he groaned and rolled over, his sore back protesting loudly, but seconds later was disturbed by that annoying slave. With a sigh, he rose to his feet and began to dress, grumbling in his still half-asleep state of mind. For some reason he couldn't remember why he had been dreading getting up, but then he remembered, today was the day when he must go with a small section of the army that was protecting the borders. His father wanted him to be used to fighting, and what better way of learning than to learn it whilst on the job? It would be hard work, Yami knew, with the heat of the day and the freezing cold of the night, but at least he would be away from the strict confines of palace life. He would have more freedom, and would not be constantly pestered by slaves and ministers, and would thankfully miss all of those high social occasions in which his father seemed to revel. His father also seemed to think this was some kind of punishment for laughing at his father, for he believed that his son enjoyed palace life and this would be a severe punishment. It was quite the opposite though; it would be a blessing, and a freedom that Yami had never had before. Yami watched as the possessions he was to take with him were loaded, ready to be transported. He was to take nothing more than he would need if he were an ordinary soldier, his father thought that Yami should learn to cope without everything he was used to, without slaves or the luxuries to which he was accustomed . Finally, it was time to go, Yami mounted a long-limbed, high-spirited desert horse and attached the lead of the camel to the rear of the saddle. The soldiers who were to accompany him to the squad gathered around him and they exited the palace grounds through an inconspicuous exit. The pharaoh had not wanted Yami to be seen leaving the palace like this, otherwise the crowds would mob him and his going would not be a secret. They travelled through the desert for the next two days, travelling at night and sleeping through the day, and eventually arrived at their destination. The soldiers at the camp had been instructed to treat Yami as if he were a normal, inexperienced soldier who had just joined the army.
There was a dark shape lying on the ground in the sand, near the stand of trees. Yami approached it cautiously, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword as he made his way towards it. As he got closer, the shape showed itself to be a man who was obviously unconscious. Yami stopped beside it and prodded it with his foot, then bent down to see if the man was breathing, he was, just. "Someone bring a light here will you? I've found a man," he called. A group of soldiers came running over with lighted torches, as they drew closer Yami could see that the squad leader was amongst them. The light revealed that the man had been quite badly wounded, as could be seen from the amount of dried blood encrusted around a serious wound on his back. One of the soldiers stepped forward and prodded the man with his sword, not expecting to get a response. Suddenly, the man leapt up, drawing a sword out of its scabbard on his back with a ringing sound. The man stood in a defensive position and shouted at them loudly in another language as he brandished his sword. Yami stepped forward and attempted to talk to the man in a quiet, calm voice, "We mean no harm to you, we thought you were unconscious, or even dead," but his calm words had no effect. The sergeant suddenly leapt forward and using his sword as a bludgeon, smacked the stranger around the head. He abruptly dropped to the ground, his sword slipping from his fingers. The soldiers quickly bound him and removed his weapons, before dragging him back to the camp.
The stranger lay in a tent on the outskirts of the camp, guarded by two soldiers either side of the tent entrance. Yami approached the tent slowly; there was something about this stranger which drew him. He spoke quietly to the guards, who reluctantly let him through into the tent. The stranger was tied down with rope, and his weapons were hung on one of the tent poles. It appeared as if the stranger was still asleep. His wounds had been treated, but not very well, as the healer had many others to attend to. As a result, the man's wounds were uncovered, but at least they were clean. Yami knelt down beside the man, trying to work out why he felt such a sense of familiarity. He studied the man's face, it was sharp and angular, with high cheekbones and dark eyebrows. His skin was almost the same colour as Yami's, burnished by the sun, the muscles of his body toned yet he was still quite slender, and he could be described as quite handsome. His hair was dishevelled and full of sand, but when Yami brushed out some of the sand his hair was revealed to be a deep chestnut colour, not dissimilar to Yami's own, although without the blond streaks and black hair. It was bound back with a leather thong into a warrior's tail. Yami turned to look at the man's sword, and as he turned, caught sight of a strange scar on the stranger's left shoulder. It was shaped like a lightening bolt, and ran halfway down his arm. There were many scars on the man's arms, and some on his upper body too, he was obviously a warrior. Yami examined the scar more closely, moving his face closer to the shoulder, and before he knew it, Yami was staring into a face with the eyes of a raptor and a hand was wrapped tighly around his neck, nearly crushing it...
to be continued...
Tiendron will try to update this story a few times a week, and there may be yaoi scenes later on, but for the moment this will just have a rating of PG, although it may go up. What will happen to Yami? You'll have to read the next chappie to find out!