Chapter 2

A figure slunk across the smooth surface of the rock noiselessly. They had found the lair of the mysterious and elusive Thief King. Something not even the Pharaoh himself had been able to do. The figure smiled a ghostly smile and approached the main chamber.

Osorkon gulped right before the knife ended up in his heart. He gave a whimper as blood began to seep through his rag of a shirt. His eyes looked up from his shirt to give a look of pure fear before he fell, dead.

"And that boys, is why you don't disappoint me," a dangerously soft and cruel voice hissed. A group of roughly 15 men turned to stare at the source of the voice. The ghostly man stared back at them. He had a crazy halo of white hair and eerie cold eyes. A line crossed with two shorter ones was etched under his right eye. He was dressed in nothing more than a pair of shorts and a robe, showing off his many scars and well toned muscles.

"It's rather fatal."

The figure crept along the floor, keeping an eye out for every sign of danger. To be honest the figure was rather disappointed with the lack of security. The Thief King probably assumed that no one would ever be able to find his lair, and therefore did not think it needed too much protection. Fool.

Gahiji was patrolling the halls of the complex cave, though the reason why he knew not. It wasn't like anyone could find where the Thief King's den was. Not even the Great Pharaoh knew where it was, the power of the Thief was too great. So it wasn't like he could find them any time soon. Plus, the Thief King moved every two weeks. True, it wasn't the most luxurious job, but the gold and revenge were worth it.

Gahiji licked his lips in anticipation of the next time they got to attack a small town. Gold was everywhere, blood enough for everyone, and plenty of innocent woman that wouldn't remain that way for very long. He stopped to pull out a knife he had stolen in his first town. It was a beauty. The hilt was imbued with gold and jewels. The blade itself was a pure bronze that could cut through flesh, sinew, muscle, and bone. The King himself had given it to him.

Darwishi stared at the body under him. His first kill. The blood ran down his hands and slowly trickled down his body. The warmth gave the man chills. The screams from others now dying filled his ears, giving him a shiver of pleasure. He lifted one arm to his mouth and slowly lapped up the blood. The flavor was salty and had a tang that reminded him of iron; it flushed through the man.

Then a hand gripped his arm. He looked up in outrage only to find the leader staring down at him. He was decked out in gold and precious jewels, and most of all, blood.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked in a deadly voice. Darwishi nodded, not knowing what was going to happen to him. The Thief King looked down at him and the body and the arm still near his mouth. He reached down and grabbed a knife from the belt of the corpse on the ground.

Darwishi's eyes widened and he lowered his head in preparation for either a quick death or large amounts of pain, but he felt nothing. He looked up and saw him holding out the blade as if for Darwishi to grab. Darwishi stared for a moment more before the Thief King growled.

"Take it before you find it in your throat. It's a very nice piece of weaponry and I would have no problem taking it for myself."

Darwishi gripped the blade, cutting his own hand in the process.

"What is your name?" he asked. Darwishi looked up shocked and stuttered his name.

"Darwishi? Saint?" the white haired man laughed. "You must take a new name, or live forever in irony." Darwishi's eyes widened again, not in fear this time but amazement. The Thief grabbed Darwishi's bloody hand and made a mock scar, similar to his own.

"Do you swear to serve me until the day you die?" he asked

"Yes, my king, gladly."

A cruel smile extended across an equally cruel face. "Well then get up Gahiji, you have a job to do."

Gahiji was ripped from his thought by the sound of breathing.

"Who is there?" he called. "Speak your name so that I may know whether you be friend or foe!" A small chuckling filled the hall of stone. A smooth voice answered in a small whisper.

"If I tell you my name, you'll have to die. But of course you will anyway." Gahiji shivered. If snakes had voice this would be what they sounded like. He reached for a his pocket of Eremis powder. The powder would alert his King of the danger. "Now, we can't have that now, can we?" the voice called. Gahiji saw something jump from a ridge near the ceiling. It was small and lithe, and exuded danger. Then it stepped in the light.

"But you're a-" his comment was cut off abruptly as a knife appeared at his throat. The being was fast.

"One word and you're dead. No movement either," it hissed in his ear. Gahiji tensed and stopped moving. "Good. Now get down on your knees and your death will be quick and clean." Gahiji and got down on his knees and put his hands on his head. "You're rather smart for help," it whispered directly in his ear. The hairs in his ear swayed and he felt chills run through his body.

I must warn him. Was his only thought. I will die anyway. He only had one chance, the small pouch hanging on his hip. The figure saw the glint in his eye.

"None of that now." He smiled, literally looking his death in the eye.

"Try to stop me." he reached for the pouch and started to tug on the string that kept in on his hip. He felt pressure from the knife and his blood running down his neck. Black spots impaired his vision. The pouch was starting to give way. Blood blocked his airway and his muscles gave way right after he cut the line. The last thing he knew was the smell of Eremis powder filling his nostrils.

A soft curse echoed through the halls before it melted back into the shadows The barely distinguishable shape moved in the shadows, of which there were plenty. It crept towards the center of the cave, deeper in than any of the other caverns. After 10 minutes of furtive moving it arrived at its destination. Four men guarded a door. A door in the middle of a cave, how odd, it thought. It snuck up behind the men and broke three necks and the last one got impaled with his partner's spear. All this happened without a noise being raised.

The Thief King smiled in his chair. If any normal man had been around to see it, they would have fainted in fear. The Shadow, The Monster, Scourge of Egypt, Evil, Servant of Zorc, The Death Bringer, The Tomb Robber, The Thief King. All were his names, and all he wore with pride and reason. He was untouchable. No one had managed to lay a finger on him. Not even "the Mighty Pharaoh". The Pharaoh was weak and that was all there was to it. Too weak and caring to stand up to do what was necessary. Always wasting his time on saving his people, making sure they were safe. That was his weakness. His friends and people weren't worth sacrificing to stop him. It was pathetic.

A scent reached his nose. Living as a beggar for his younger years, he had developed a nose for things. The smell of food was always easily definable, gold was an easy picking too. Livings as a thief meant you needed to know who to pickpocket and who not. But this was neither. It was a mix of iron and flora. Blood and Eremis powder. Someone had found their way to his lair, and had managed to make it past his guards.

"Pop Quiz, boys. Whoever's the last man standing is correct."

The 15 men standing around looked at each other in confusion. That was when one of them fell over with a knife sticking out of the base of his skull. The men were sent into an uproar and each turned around catching their guard and searching for this unseen enemy. Another fell, this time skewered by a spear. Another one on the other side fell too, dead in the same manner.

The one called the Death Bringer smiled as he watched his own men die one by one. Two more fell to a spear, then another knife ended up in a man's heart. The remaining 9 grouped together and formed a circle, backs towards the middle. One slipped in a puddle of blood and fell limp, a poison dart resting in his jugular vein. The 8 turned to where the dart came from and one shot their spear into the darkness. The same had it thrown right back at his chest.

Zorc's servant sighed, not wanting all his men to die in one night. Regretting to end the fun so soon, he called upon the shadows and bent them to his will. Without visible instruction, they flew through the room, shrieking and howling. They searched for a moment, but quickly returned with a figure, but not before it killed two more men. The shadows dragged the figure across the floor and before the throne of the Thief King. They forced it to its knees and made it stay there.

"Look at me." the man on the throne demanded. The figure looked pointedly away. The head of white hair gave a nod and the shadows forced its face up. Or rather, her face up.

A slow smile spread across his face. "A woman? Men, it looks like your ten unfortunate companions got beat by a girl." The last part was hissed, clearly an insult. "What is your name?"

"You do not give yours. Why should I give mine?" she snapped in a taunting voice.

He merely smiled, pleased by this show of defiance. "I shall give you a reason, yes?" He reached out a hand and slapped her across the face. She laughed.

"If you want me to talk, you'll have to do much better than that, King." Sarcasm coated the last word so thickly it was dripping. His eyes flashed with anger and he smiled again.

"Very well." he reached into the folds of his robe and pulled out a sharp metal knife.

With one hand he grabbed her face, with the other he held the knife close. The knife made contact with her skin and she flinched at the feel of the cold metal. The male Egyptian smiled wider and dug into her check, carving the pattern of a rose into her skin.

To her credit, she didn't scream, but he could tell she was biting her tongue and wished very dearly to. He lifted up the knife and she left go of a breath and breathed deeply. Blood trickled down her cheek.

"Now, your name?"

She glared at him. "Nesmut."

"Very good. Now," he said as the shadows let her go and he got up so he was behind her, "You have a choice, not something I give many people. You may of course die here. There are countless ways I could do it, but I'm sure one would suffice. Your second option is equally bloody, but not yours. It would be a shame to see talents like yours to go to waste. So I am offering you a once in a lifetime chance. I am giving you the chance to join me and my band of thieves."