I crouched along the narrow strip of land between the Nile and the wall that surrounds the mansion. The moon wasn't out tonight to give away my position with its soft glow. It was just the stars out to keep me company. A dry wind drifted through, rustling the reeds lining the water.
Around the corner is the guard that routinely falls asleep in the middle of his watch. So I wait quietly, listening for his breathing. Waiting for it to even out in slumber. I heard a telltale snore and decided it was time.
They always close the gates at night, so I scaled up the uneven stone wall. I made sure not to wear shoes today; bare feet were so much quieter. I spied the high palm tree about five feet away from the wall. I had always seen the top of the tree from outside and had planned to use it to get back on the ground but didn't realize it was a bit farther from the wall then I anticipated.
"Too late to back out now." I mutter, bracing my hands on the top of the wall and tightening my muscles. Before I could change my mind, I jumped. There was a brief moment of weightlessness but before my mind could register fear, I had slammed into the rough trunk of the tree; knocking the air out of my lungs. I hung there for a second, clinging to the uneven bark, catching my breath before sliding down.
Hugging the wall, I made my way into the study. The nice thing about these rich people is that they usually use the same architect. Which results in mansions that have nearly identical layouts.
I walked on the balls of my feet, as silent as a shadow until I reached my destination. The door looked heavy; heavy and locked. Picking it would be too risky. It takes too long and someone could easily walk by and wonder why an important room was left unlocked. But there is a window just above the door that was left open, the curtain fluttering in the light breeze.
I used the door handle to pull myself up and balanced on it a moment, praying it wouldn't give under my weight. I peeked into the room; there was no light on so I hopped onto the sill. The window was thin, so I slid in on my belly, nearly falling flat on my face on the other side.
Ah the study. The core of information. A person's entire life could be found in their study. People who live in these big houses seem to have a habit of writing their lives down and keeping them on file. "Diary" it's called. "Autobiography" for some. A silly habit, really. All the better for me, though.
They all have their own reasons for writing it. Some do it to ease their guilty conscience. Some to leave their mark on the world after they've died. "Proof" that they were alive, they called it. Some just have the most terrible memories and are afraid they will forget.
It's all silly. Writing will not take your sins away. Who cares about how the world remembers us? Truth is the world is a cruel, ugly place that will forget us the moment we stop breathing. If it even knew we were there to begin with. We live now. We breathe now. We can act now. Isn't that enough proof that we are alive? What more do we need? Words can never replace a true memory. I will never be able to truly capture the color of Shu's eyes in mere words. Or the feel of a soft breeze on my cheeks on a hot day. Writing them down is silly. It only allows people like me to get my hands on it.
I peruse the desk. What secrets can I dig out today? Even the most moral general has secrets he likes to keep locked up. What will it be? Perhaps he stabbed someone in the back to get his position, perhaps he has some children he wants to try and hide away. Oh, the possibilities are endless!
I always get a bit too giddy when I find secrets. Don't know why. Secrets just make me feel powerful. Not that I have ever had to leak the information. I could always sell the information, but who knows what chain of events could be unleashed. I don't want to be caught in that backlash. But just knowing that I have something to hold over these stuck up men, that I can control them if I want.
Obviously I didn't inherit my father's moral. Or my mother's kindness. No. I inherited the heartless ways of the streets.
I sifted through the tablets in the desk, on the shelves; careful not to leave any traces of my presence. It's a bit of a hassle to search in the dark, but I dare not light the lantern on the desk.
They all have their secrets. I wonder if I would ever want power. If it means doing some of the disgusting things these people have done. Is it wrong for me to want that for Shu? The path to power is riddled with traps. People don't get put in power by keeping their hands clean. But then, isn't that why I am here? Shu won't need to lie, cheat, steal, or stab backs. I'll do that for him.
Finally, something caught my eye.
"Oh, well lookie here!" I thought, my eyes skimming over the tablet. Looks like a certain User Ramses has been unhappy with our current pharaoh. Plans on moving up in status; this man wants the throne!
I couldn't keep the grin off my face. Outright treason! It's been a while since I have found something this juicy. Perfect. And with this, I can –
I freeze. Footsteps. Someone is walking towards the study! My sudden excitement fell flat. I quickly replace the tablet onto its shelf and search for a hiding place.
Not under the table, too risky. The tapestry lies too flatly on the wall for me to squeeze behind it. The vase! There was a large decorative vase in the corner about four feet high. It came up to my shoulder, so if I just squeeze I might make it!
I heard the door unlocking. No time to think about it now! I braced one hand on the lip of the vase and the other on the wall, using the uneven, rough stones to pull myself in and land into the vase. I curled myself into a ball just as I heard the door click open. He must have lit the lamp because light streamed over the lip of the vase. I ducked to stay in the shadow.
Suddenly, my breathing, my heartbeat…they seemed obscenely loud. It must be General Ramses himself out there. No one else would venture into the study this late. All of the sudden I was sure he could hear my pounding heart.
There was some rustling. It seemed like he was in here for hours. I could feel my legs begin to go numb, but I didn't dare shift my weight. The air seemed like it was getting stale. I struggled not to gasp, gritting my teeth and trying to breathe as quietly as I could.
The footsteps sounded like they were getting closer. Or perhaps that is just my mind playing tricks on me? I clenched my hands into tight fists. I could feel my nails digging into my palms. I focused my mind on that little detail, trying to distract my mind.
After what seems like hours, the light was extinguished and the door closed with a click. I waited for the footsteps to drift away until I could no longer hear them before I wriggled my way out of the vase, hopping back and forth to get the blood flowing into my legs again. I gave a sigh of relief and made my way to the window. As a last second decision, I leaned over to the bookshelf and snagged a random book. Gods and Goddesses that Rule Us. It was called. Hopefully it was more entertaining than that old cookbook.
Now, on to the kitchen.
I grinned as I noted the kitchen was unlocked. Rich people don't consider food something of value. It is something they take for granted. After all, it was always there for them.
I grabbed a loaf of bread and stuffed it into my bag, the melons were sitting in a pile in a corner and I hefted that up and put it in my bag too. Thanks to the weight of that melon, I don't think I could carry more. This was already pushing it. But there is always tomorrow.
I pull the drawstring shut and swing the bag on my shoulder, stumbling back a little as the weight settled. This may be harder than I thought. I wonder how I will climb the wall with this thing?
Steal what we need. Nothing more.
My own rule rang in my head. Logically, the melon should be left behind. It was heavy. It didn't offer much nourishment, and would go bad quickly.
But it's for Shu. I promised.
With that, I decided to break my own rule. I will steal something I want.
I left the kitchen and decided higher ground would be my best bet. There isn't much time before dawn. So I pulled myself onto an overhang and inched onto the roof to see if I could find my escape route.
There. On the south side. There is a tree in between the wall and the residence. I get up and made my way over; careful not to make any noise. Who knows how much noise would transfer from the roof down to the rooms below.
The tree was a bit of a jump, around the same distance as the one close to the wall when I snuck in. If I did it then, then I can do it again. So once again, I jumped before I could doubt myself. Only, I wish I had doubted myself.
I wish I had taken a moment to consider the extra weight I was carrying, and how that would affect how far I could jump. I wish I had considered that this particular tree was leafier then the last and so it would make more noise. I could wish, but it wouldn't matter. Wishing and regretting changes nothing.
"Hey! You!" I heard from below. The south guard has spotted me.
Don't get caught.
Ah. Seems I have broken another one of my rules.
I tried to hop around the branches and jump towards the wall, but an arrow struck right next to my foot. I didn't even have time to shriek out in surprise before I realized I was falling. At least I remembered to roll in order to soften the landing. But now there was a guard on my heels.
I dashed, running for the main entrance. Maybe I can slip out and into the morning crowd.
I turned the corner; I didn't notice someone had left a basket out. A maid perhaps. I stumbled over it and the weight of my bag sent me toppling over. I cursed at the simple mistake.
I could see the guard. No choice.
I pull my knife out from my waistband. I only have one. This is the only shot I'll have. Lucky for me, I'm a good shot.
I pull my shoulder back to throw. The guard is really close now. I can see his face. If I don't kill him, he will just shout for help. I have to. I have to.
I swing forward to release the knife. But something flashes in my eyes. It is not a guard running towards me. It is my father. Who died. Because of a bandit. Killed just because he was doing his job.
Did this man have a family to feed? Would they be left to starve like we were? The thought was enough for me to pause just the slightest.
That moment of hesitation was enough. My knife missed its mark by a hair. And I was suddenly staring at the wrong end of a sword. Ah. Another rule should have been "have no mercy". Too late now.
I looked up. I should be terrified. I should be sobbing. I opened my mouth and expected a strangled sob, a plea for mercy.
But instead, out comes laughter. Just pure joy. Laughter like a child playing in the afternoon sun.
The guard looked at me like I was insane. And maybe I was. Here I was facing death; and yet I felt so alive.
The blood pounding through my veins, my heart hammering into my ribs, the adrenaline coursing its way to the tips of my fingers. This is what it means to feel alive.
And the thought makes me laugh even more. In my final moments, I feel so utterly alive.
My laughter seems to confuse the poor guard. Of course it did. It confused me.
"Go ahead then. Just get it over with." I snarl. There's nothing I can do now. Shu. I hope he'll be ok. Suddenly, I wish I had planned ahead more. I wish I had a stock of money or food for him. Left him something to sell. When my parents passed they left him the house. When I am gone, I will leave nothing. Nothing but some tattered books.
"Now, now. No need to rush. I have some questions for you." A new voice joined my little predicament. I looked up to see a pair of mismatched eyes staring back at me. One brown. One gold. Gold like my mother's eyes. Blond hair shone in the early morning light. He stood there, twirling a knife in his palm. Twirling MY knife in his palm. That was the one I threw. The way he stood, his clothes…he looked like a man of status.
"User Ramses." I muttered to myself. He was different from what I expected. Younger. But if he was here…I have a chance. I have one chance to get out of here alive if I play my cards right.
"Ah. So you know my name. I think all things should be equal. So your name, if you please." He laughed. There was a playful tone in his voice, but he was standing in a casually defensive stance, muscles tensed around his forearm in case the knife needed to end my life immediately.
My mind raced as it tried to figure out how I should maneuver myself. I might look young and starving enough to get off on pure pity. But that all depends on if this man is the pitying type. Most generals are not. So that leaves arrogant and cocky. That works well enough for me, it's not that far of a stretch from my natural personality.
"My name is of no consequence. It holds now sway like yours. User Ramses. A rising new general. And so far the Pharaoh's favorite. Don't you think it's odd that the pharaoh's pet doesn't agree with how Egypt is run?" I almost sing tauntingly. I can't panic. I have to stay in control. I say that but I find myself clenching my teeth to avoid gasping when he was in my face in seconds. Kneeling in front of me. He dismissed the guard with a simple wave of his hand, and then we were alone.
"It's not good to snoop. Who are you working for?" He hissed. His breath right by my ear. That's it. I have the upper hand. I laugh again, he pulled back, startled.
"I work for no one. And I have no use for this information. But I do have it stored away somewhere. If I don't return, a friend will release this information. And we don't want such a tragedy to happen, do we?" I grin sweetly. I'm a good liar. Thank gods.
"You're blackmailing me, then." His voice lost his playful edge and was now tense.
"No. I am offering you a trade. Let me out of here with whatever is in my bag, and your secret will disappear." I say coolly. He made a grab for my bag, expecting me to pull away. I sigh and simply just hand it over to him. He gave me a perplexing look. He weighed it in his hand before he began ruffling in my bag.
"A loaf of bread…a book…is that a melon?" He asked. He looked back at me, obviously trying to figure out what my game was. I probably looked like a fool, trying to make my way out with an entire melon.
"I collect secrets, my friend. But you see, I cannot eat secrets." I say nonchalantly. We watched each other for a moment. Sizing each other up. He suddenly thrust my bag back into my arms and pulled my up by the arm. He was so much bigger and taller; his hand wrapped all the way around my upper arm. I felt like I was a child being led out by an angry parent.
"Come to my office. We need to talk." He said as he pulled me towards the study. To his credit, he was not rough. Just firm. Not that he needed to be. It's not like I was going anywhere. But being led around like a child was mildly irritating, so I wretched my arm away and walked beside him on my own.
He sat me down in the chair across from his desk and sat down to stare at me some more. I was starting to feel uncomfortable. I fought the urge not to fidget under his gaze. I tried my best to glare right back at him. But that calculating glance was hard to match.
"Well? What is it? Go on and just spit it out." I snapped at him. I don't like being stared at. I am used to being overlooked. Used to blending into a crowd or shadow. And that's just how I preferred it.
"Why steal from here? It's heavily guarded. You could have stolen from anywhere and probably not have gotten caught." He said conversationally. I could tell that wasn't the only reason I was dragged to his study, but I may as well play along.
"Who do you suggest I steal from? Another starving person? Perhaps take the supplies from a merchant barely making enough to feed his family? I stole from here because it looked like a bit of missing food wouldn't do you much harm." I say snidely. That was a rule I have not broken; steal from the rich. There is no point stealing from the poor. If they had anything to steal in the first place, that is.
They say that the law is fair. We cannot steal. That applies to everyone in Egypt, rich and poor. Yet what reason do the rich have to steal? I have never seen a rich person missing a hand because he needed to steal a loaf of bread. Yet I see children running about the streets with their arms ending in little stumps. I see the hands being cut from their bodies merely because they were so hungry they had no choice. Is that truly what is considered fair?
"How did you get in?" His next question interrupted my morbid thoughts.
"Your guards are lax." I shot back. This sent a ghost of a smile onto his face.
"I'm trying to figure out how to get you to work for me." He said after a long pause; as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"I am not for hire." I retort tersely. I don't want to work for people like him. People like him who used everyone around them as pawns. My father is a brilliant example of how much they care about their employees. He will use me until I am no longer useful, or kill me off just to get ahead in that maze we call politics.
"Everyone is for hire at the right price. I'm going to be Pharaoh one day. Someone with your skill; I could take you up there. Live your life as a noble. Instead of stealing bread just to get by. But what I am trying to figure out is how to keep you by my side. Ensure that you don't sell my secrets to the highest bidder." He furrowed his brow like he was trying to figure out a strange puzzle.
My first emotion was rage. How dare he think he can just buy me off the streets? But then the logic kicked in. Even if he doesn't become pharaoh, he can still support Shu and I. Perhaps this is the leg up that Shu needs. The one I can give him. I just need to be sure Shu will have everything he needs even if I were to die.
I grit my teeth and steel my resolve. I have to be sure. What I say next will alter the future for Shu forever.
"How about I offer an insurance policy?" I say quietly. Shu comes first. My personal preference doesn't matter. There is no going back now.
"Elaborate."
"I have a brother. A young one. Claim him." Match my terse reply with his command. He opened his mouth to protest. Of course he would protest to such a ridiculous demand. But I interrupt him.
"Doesn't have to be as your son. A long lost distant cousin, if you wish. Doesn't matter. Just connect him to you publicly. My loyalty may not lie with you, but they will forever lie with my brother. Take him in and I will never betray you." I stare him dead in the eye. He stared back. Neither of our faces showed any emotion.
"Why do I have to claim him? I can bring him into the residence with you, that is enough to ensure him a fruitful life. And I will see to his wellbeing. Is it necessary that I claim blood ties?" He finally said.
"Yes. Spying on others, playing this political minefield, it is a dangerous job you are asking of me. What you are asking me to do could easily result in my execution or torture. I could die on any given hour. When I die, I want my brother well provided for until he matures. If he is connected to you by blood, you will have a hard time tossing him on the streets or killing him without losing face towards your peers. Also by connecting him to you in blood, his fate may be linked with yours. If I betray you, I would have to take the risk that he will suffer as well. My brother is an insurance policy. For you as well as for me." I say as calmly as I can. But even as I say it, I know I am gambling. He suddenly reached his hand out.
"You have a deal." He grinned at me. His smile reminded me of a cat. Sly, mysterious, playful, dangerous. A total contradiction in itself. Before I lost my nerve, I reached out and grabbed his hand in a shake, sealing our deal.
Don't make any deals.
Goodness. It seems I am breaking all the rules today.
"Now that we have that settled, what's your name, boy?" He leaned back into his chair comfortably. Any tension he had diminished in moments.
"Zahra." I say tersely.
"Odd name for a boy isn't it?"
"Yes. It is an odd name for a boy. Good thing I'm not one." I say a bit harshly. The shock on his face was priceless and I must say I enjoyed it more than I would care to admit.
It's too soon to know if I've screwed up. Only time will tell. I made a gamble, now to play it out and see if it pays off.
Maybe it's good to break the rules every once and awhile.
There we have it! Chapter 2! I also want to make an edit about Zahra's age. I realize if she is only four years older then Shu right now that makes her 11...that is a bit too young, dont you guys think? So I am upping it. She now has seven years in between her and Shu. So she is 14, this takes place around three years before the actual timeline of Red River. I am putting Ramses at around 19 so it isnt too scandalous of an age gap, lol.
Thanks for reading!
~EternallySnowy