Chapter 6
"Your leg movements are too stiff. Again!"
Kahmunrah gritted his teeth as he scowled at his new mentor. Sand coated his mouth and throat as he held in a growl; this was the sixth time he'd been knocked off his feet this morning! There were few people he longed to shove in the dirt; Battle Master Uruk was proving to be one of them. Ignoring the offered hand, the elder prince rose and dusted his tunic off, pointedly looking anywhere but at him.
As if training to be king was not strenuous enough, Merenkahre's punishment was increasing battle training for. Apparently he feared he'd been 'too soft' on his sons, resulting in bouts of misbehavior. Apparently he hoped to remedy this by making sure they had hardly any free time. As if his life as the heir wasn't laborious enough! Kicking at his practice sword, Kahmunrah considered throwing it like a javelin before thinking better of it- Uruk did not like pranks. So far, none of his previously learned attacks had impressed the master, who'd defeated him every round. Hence his current resemblance to a sandstorm.
"Uruk, am I doing this right?" A far too chipper voice asked. Of course baby brother would be joining him from now on. Kisser-upper, Kahmunrah thought as Uruk inspected Ahkmenrah's stance critically. For the first time in living memory, the child's face looked uncertain.
"Your legs are too spread apart. If I wanted, I could easily knock you off balance!" Kahmunrah winced in sympathy as Ahk dodged a kick intended to prove their instructor's point. In Kahmunrah's opinion, the only good thing about their punishment was that his younger brother did not receive the special treatment he typically did from others. True, Uruk took Ahkmenrah's age under consideration to a point- no heavy weapons like a sword or mace; nor did he scold him quite as frequently as he did the older kids. However, he suffered no quams about working him hard, as Ahk received the rare bruise when he failed to block a practice punch. This alone was quite surprising; perhaps Father had gotten a big enough scare it convinced him Ahkmenrah could not be handled like glass forever, and he should learn how to fight. The only thing preventing Kahmunrah from completely empathizing with Ahkmenrah were the occasional soft looks he caught Uruk giving the boy. Looks he himself had never received in his life. "The king desires his sons to be strong, and by the gods I intend to fulfill his wishes! Again!"
Both princes braced themselves as they prepared for more training.
"How long will Father let Uruk teach us?" Ahkmenrah groaned as he and Kahmunrah waddled towards their chambers. Both felt like walking bruises, which did not improve their eagerness for their upcoming reading lesson. Too bad they had only a half hour to rest.
"Uruk and Father were best friends as children. I wouldn't be surprised if Uruk was our permanent training master now."
"Oh." Enough said. "I do not know if I like Uruk."
An amused splutter popped out of Kahmunrah's lips. "If you did, I'd question your sanity. I certainly hate him!"
Ahkmenrah turned to him, horrified. "That is terrible to say! Don't hate him!"
"And why on Geb would I not? Have you been taking the same lessons as I?"
"Because Mama says hatred taints your soul." Kahmunrah stared at him like he'd sprouted two heads. "I don't want you to hate, Kah. I will not hate Uruk, even if he beats us!"
"I doubt Mother and Father would let him do that. Regardless, I- dislike him. Strongly." Watching his brother's receding back, he murmured, "Of course you don't hate him. You're too good for such an emotion."
"You're not trying. Tell me you're not trying," Kahmunrah hissed as he loomed over his brother, spear pointed at his throat.
Ahkmenrah glared at him. "Easy for you to gloat. You've got a longer spear."
"You know it takes more than one's weapon to win a fight. Now get up, or Uruk will make us clean the stables again. By Ra, I swear if he does..."
"All right, I'm up! Just please, stop being so eager to kick me," Ahkmenrah grumbled as he picked up his practice spear. It wasn't exactly like he'd asked to be the worst fighter among the trainees. "Hit me with your best."
Kahmunrah smirked. "Remember you asked." With a flurry of parries and twirls, he descended upon him. Ahkmenrah barely leapt to his feet in time to block the first blow. He tried not to panic as he and his brother parried, blocked, and thrust as the world around the stilled.
It was Duel Day, or so the apprentices had dubbed it. Once a week, Uruk paired off his trainees to duel against each other to review what he'd taught them. The rules were simple: whoever was hit or 'tapped' first was the loser, and the duel was over. Everyone received wooden blades and dulled spears, so there was little danger in anyone getting seriously hurt (though if a boy was hot-tempered enough, nothing would stop him from inflicting some damage), but the stakes were high: whatever pair remained standing the longest would be exempt from lesser duties. Whoever remained standing until the very end was exempt from chores for a week. Perversely, the couples who finished first were deemed amateurs and so had to complete more labor-intensive tasks like clearing the yard or mucking the stables.
"You're doing it again, aren't you?" Ahkmenrah panted. "You're going to leave me to clear the yard."
"Stop whining and fight," Kahmunrah growled. Their spears were crossed in a familiar X, their faces inches apart from each other- or so Ahkmenrah wished. At ten years old, he had yet to catch up to his brother's height, so he currently reached up to only his collarbone. By now, the other duels had dissipated as the students gathered to watch the fight from afar. The princes weren't usually matched together due to their age gap, but once in a while, Uruk deemed fit to pitch them against each other seemingly on a whim. Odd, considering they were slightly mismatched. It never ended well for them, since they were typically among the first to finish fighting, which meant...
"Kahmunrah, that's enough. He's defeated," Uruk sighed. The younger prince glowered up at Kahmunrah, massaging his left should where he'd been struck. "To the stables, both of you!" Without looking at each other, they stormed off.
"If you weren't so eager to win, we might actually last a third of the way in, Kahmunrah!"
"My my, you must be upset- you only call me that when you're angry," Kahmunrah said, bemused.
"I mean it- give me a break!"
"And what, have Uruk breathing down my neck like before? I have tried in the past, but if he suspects something, he fights me personally- an experience I'd rather not repeat, even for your sake."
Rubbing his sore shoulder, Ahkmenrah remained silent for a few moments. "At least do not hit me so hard. I'm going to have a bruise for a week!"
"Oh, boo-hoo! What can I say? It hurts to lose." Kahmunrah's smirk faded when Ahkmenrah hurried ahead and grabbed a shovel. Judging by his sudden stiffness, he deliberately kept his back towards him. Sighing, he picked up his own shovel and joined him. "Come on, don't be a sore loser! I'm sorry, all right?" Still facing a rigid back. "Did I hit you that hard? Really?" Ahkmenrah continued shoveling. "Look at me, Ahk. Please." Finally Ahkmenrah turned to him, eyes moist. Kahmunrah held a small container in his hand. "Turn around."
Grudgingly, the preteen did as commanded, wincing as Kahmunrah applied something icy to his shoulder. "What are you doing?"
"It is a cream that keeps the swelling down and numbs the pain. There, better?"
"Yes," Ahkmenrah replied, rolling his shoulder experimentally. "What is that stuff?"
"A cream I borrowed from one of my colleagues. Works wonders on bruises and muscles." They stared down into each others' lapse before Kahmunrah relented. "Look, I truly am sorry, I didn't mean to be so rough. It's just when we're fighting, I... Forget myself sometimes." I forget you are ten years old, and my brother.
"I forgive you this time." Ahkmenrah finally smiled slightly as they resumed their mucking. "I wonder why Uruk is so stern with us."
"Father must have told him to be so. Or perhaps it's your charming personality." In retaliation, Ahkmenrah merely dumped a shovelful on his head.
0o0
"I thought I told you to clean the stables, not dirty yourselves worse than the horses." Uruk sighed as he glared at the two miscreants. Ahk and Kah paused their wrestling long enough to flash him angelic, innocent faces.
"We were merely practicing, right Ahk?"
"Yes, Kah was showing me his best moves."
Muttering something about youth being wasted on the foolhardy young, Uruk left them to it.
