A/N: Readers – I have to admit this chapter is not really at all like something you would find in MDotN (not that the rest of my fic holds up to anything written by McGraw). I just couldn't resist writing a chapter like this…I apologize if you hate it, just hang on for the next update, I will be switching gears and moving the plot along.
Sheftu lounged on the decks of the Silver Beetle, eyes closed against the rising sun. The lull of the lazy waves rocking the boat nearly rendered him asleep. In this position, it was easy for Sheftu to mentally turn back time to when he last journeyed on the Beetle. A smile crept in the corner of his mouth as he remembered the first time he held Mara in his arms, her upturned face scowling and indignant, her arms stiff and pushing against him. He sighed, the fierce blue of her eyes overwhelming him even in memory. Despite her rags and dusty appearance, Mara still stunned him with her singular beauty.
The current voyage was less pleasant than Sheftu pictured – the first morning Sheftu nearly stumbled overboard at the sight of that fool, that absolute bastard Bhetosh, leaning over his lovely wife in rapt conversation. Sheftu glanced about the ship, sure he was in a dream, some nightmare. He blinked, but Bhetosh remained. He hadn't wanted to believe it, but Bhetosh had chosen the Silver Beetle for his passage to Cairo, just like Sheftu and Mara. The coincidence was too much this time, and Sheftu had marched to Nekonkh's cabin, demanding to know why Nekonkh allowed this imbecile to board.
"He told me that you sent him!" Nekonkh had said, his brows raised.
Fourteen long days had passed, and now Sheftu was convinced Bhetosh was some form of jackal-headed devil sent to repay him for his misdeeds. While the mission was not at all palatable compared to life in his villa, Sheftu had somewhat looked forward to his time on the Beetle with Mara. There were challenges to consider, such as refraining from appearing too much like a couple lest the crew discover their real identities, but otherwise it would be days of conversation and flirtation with his beloved. However, after Bhetosh joined, the voyage was naught but a slew of frustrating encounters.
Mara slept in a small cabin during the nights while Sheftu and Bhetosh took the piles of hides along the deck. Bhetosh took every opportunity to test Sheftu's patience with talk of how he would try a new method of charming Mara the next day.
"Do you think she is getting sweet on me?" Bhetosh said one night, "I saw her laugh at my jests once or twice."
"Nay, she was probably laughing at you," Sheftu muttered.
"Unlikely," Bhetosh continued, undaunted, "Nessie is too sweet to have such evil ways. You should study her character more, you will see. Tomorrow I will win her love for sure."
Sheftu had to endure these talks with Bhetosh more than he could stand. When Bhetosh wasn't babbling some nonsense about Mara or other women he believed were attracted to him, he was sweet talking Mara, bathing her in smiles and compliments while Sheftu simmered from a distance, sickening jealousy curling in his stomach every time Mara indulged him.
The morning was quiet, the banks of the Nile void of civilization for a stretch, animals waking up and starting their day. Sheftu sighed to himself, allowing a moment of self-pity over the mission, the voyage. How he longed to be at home with Mara, laughing, playing, and making her moan in his bed. It seemed years since he last touched her. An idea entered Sheftu's mind, and he almost dismissed it, but when he heard a loud snore from Bhetosh's stack of hides, it was enough to propel him onward. It was still early enough that Sheftu might not be spotted visiting Mara's cabin. He could give her a quick kiss, maybe a caress or two, just something to tide him over.
Sheftu's blood roared with anticipation, now his course was set. He was silent and swift as he descended below the deck, the darkness swallowing and hiding him. He came to Mara's cabin and eased the door open, slipping inside. There she was, curled up under a pile of blankets, black locks spread in all directions, her face soft and peaceful. Sheftu paused, his heart skipping a beat before he slid into the bed beside her. He gathered her to him, greedily. Mara woke with a silent start, then realizing it was her husband, eagerly pressed closer to him.
"Sheftu," she whispered, "how -?"
"Shh," Sheftu breathed against her hair, "I can't stay but a moment."
He pulled back enough to slant his mouth over hers, his fingers tangling in her hair in his haste. Mara's response was delayed but equally ardent, her own hands finding fistfuls of his dark hair. Their kiss was anything but chaste, tongues mingling and hands wandering. It was too much, Sheftu had been wrong, one kiss and a few caresses only further ignited the flames inside him. He would never be satisfied if he left it at that. Mara was so warm, so soft, so deliciously yielding against him. He deepened the kiss like a fool, knowing all too well it was a death sentence to his self-control. Mara sighed, setting his blood singing as she threw a leg over his hip. He tortured himself further by allowing his hand to travel her thigh, bare to the hip where her gown was rucked up. Sheftu swallowed Mara's hitches of breath as he pushed under the fabric of her gown.
Miserable anxiety spiked in the back of his mind, alarm bells ringing when he heard footsteps overhead. But his body disobeyed every command to stop, to disentangle himself from Mara and get out. Her skin was too smooth and her mouth too sweet for him to walk away now. Mara's response to his touch revealed she had no intention of being the cautious one, she was boneless and surrendered to him, moaning as his hand continued under her gown. Sheftu broke away from her lips to kiss along her neck, half-delirious with wanting to hear more of her sounds.
He knew he should stop, he knew he had overindulged himself and was risking everything, but with every kiss it was like a bandage being applied to a wound, every sigh from Mara's mouth a tonic, turning his blood thick and honeyed with hazy bliss. Mara was unwinding against him, panting as he kissed and teased her, her hands almost yanking his hair. Sheftu didn't relent, his senses overcome with a need for more, the repressed feelings of desire charging forth, demanding satisfaction.
"Sheftu," Mara whimpered, "Sheftu, I – " she cut herself off, arching her back as he found her clavicle with his lips. She gave up speaking and softly moaned instead. Sheftu kissed back up her neck to her cheek, pausing to gaze upon her. Great Amon, he had gone too far and yet still wanted more. Mara's half-open eyes sparkled deep sapphire against the pink flush of her cheeks, her lips swollen and wet – from his kisses. He was about to kiss her again when a knock suddenly sounded on the cabin door.
"Little One?" Nekonkh's concerned voice was muffled against the door, "I hate to wake you, but this Bhetosh fellow is lookin' around, I told him Sh – Rasha is busy with accounting work in my cabin, but…"
"Aye captain," Mara called to the doorway with false cheer, "I'm almost done with my makeup, tell Bhetosh to wait a minute more!"
"Of course," Nekonkh said, "Take your time." And his footsteps were heard retreating. Sheftu kept his boiling rage to himself as he removed the hand under Mara's gown and wrapped her tightly in his arms. Both hearts were hammering in their chests, Sheftu held Mara so close he felt them. She sighed again, despairingly this time, and he kissed the top of her head.
"I merely wanted to see you," Sheftu kept his voice low, "as husband and wife, not from a distance."
"I know," Mara murmured.
"I hate watching you with Bhetosh," he growled.
Mara giggled at that. "He's no worse than Reshed."
"Whom I would gladly feed to the crocodiles, don't forget."
"Were you really jealous of him?"
"Of course I was, you minx!" Sheftu pinched her backside and Mara wriggled away, smirking.
"You didn't let on, you lied to me when I asked you!"
"Absolutely. Can you imagine what might have happened if I had declared my affections for you on that night?" Sheftu smiled, his eyes playful.
"I can imagine, our King would still be a prince – I would have stopped your mission to the dark river." Mara gave him a small smile, her hand resting on his cheek. Sheftu covered her hand with his own and turned to kiss her palm.
"Oh Mara, if only we had more time…" He kissed her wrist, and Mara gently pulled away.
"I will freshen up, then find Bhetosh." Mara rose from the bed, Sheftu sat up, eyes following her.
"Aye, I can wait here until a signal from you, then I will slip away into Nekonkh's cabin. Bring Bhetosh and meet me there, we need to make it appear as though I was there all along."
"What should be the signal?"
"Stamp your feet three times above deck."
"Aye, I can do that, I'll pretend to see some beetle or other." Mara combed her hair quickly and touched up her makeup. When she was finished, she gave Sheftu a lingering glance before exiting the cabin.
Sheftu fell back into her bed, inhaling deeply the intoxicating scents of lotus flowers and honey that were unique to Mara. He held her pillow and sighed. He needed to regain his composure before she gave her signal, but it was so difficult when surrounded by her smell.
Thirty minutes later Mara walked with Bhetosh along the main deck, several honey cakes in her hands. She nibbled them absently while Bhetosh chatted to her, sipping juice from a cup.
"What do you think of Rasha?" Bhetosh said, watching her from the corner of his eye.
"He's a decent man," Mara said casually.
"How long have you known him?"
"Oh, maybe a year. Why do you ask?" Mara offered him a honey cake.
"You seem to know each other well," Bhetosh said with a mouth full of cake.
"Maybe I'm just friendly," Mara smiled.
"Not friendly enough! How many nights now have you allowed me to freeze on this miserable ship's decks with naught but a piece of cloth for blankets, while you lay all alone in that big soft bed?" Bhetosh whined, mock offense in his tone. Mara glowered at him, and he broke into a laugh. "Maybe it's this Rasha fellow you would rather host," Bhetosh continued, "I'm sure he wouldn't decline if you made him an offer."
"What kind of maid do you take me for?" Mara took a bite of honey cake, "I'm not obligated to lure men to my bed."
"You are correct, fair one, but a maid as beautiful as yourself should have some compassion – your blue eyes are like weapons against men!"
"Perhaps it is you men who should have some compassion on me," Mara quipped, "I never asked for what I was born with, and I am half-dead already with boredom from being daily reminded."
"Aye!" came a rough voice behind them, "Come now, young man, leave the maid alone a minute. Rasha would like words with you both." It was Nekonkh, carrying a flask of liquid and two loaves of bread.
They followed him to his cabin where Sheftu was brooding over some maps.
"Ah, good morning, honored friends." Sheftu said dryly as they entered the room. Nekonkh served up the bread and wine on another table and helped himself to a drink. Mara and Bhetosh shuffled over to the table where Sheftu was marking up the maps. Mara noted how collected Sheftu appeared to be now, not a trace of the desperate lust from before staining his cheeks.
"You were up early, mate," Bhetosh said.
"There are many plans to be confirmed," Sheftu looked up from his maps, "today we dock, and you will need to continue alone to carry your message to those who will receive us."
"It's a long way from Cairo, give me about three days head-start." Bhetosh pointed to a section of the map as he spoke. Sheftu nodded, and Mara said, "Be sure you don't wander off and ruin the plans."
"Me?" Bhetosh grinned, "What makes you think I would do such a thing?"
"What evidence have you given us to prove you would do anything but waste time and chase women?" Mara scolded.
"I have no need to chase women, I have you, sweet Nessie." Bhetosh winked. Sheftu disguised a growl by clearing his throat. Nekonkh spoke up, "What about me? Do I wait for your return here? Rasha and Nessie will remain here for a night or two, and then should I sail?"
"Wait for Bhetosh. He will carry a message back to our king after we leave for Syria." Sheftu said, returning his attention to the map. He was marking a path from Cairo to Canaan, dotting the places he planned to stop along the way.
"Have you travelled this way before?" Mara asked, leaning over the map. Sheftu's arm brushed hers for but a moment and she shivered.
"Once, when I was a lad. My father took me with him for some business," Sheftu's voice was soft, then he glanced at Bhetosh and added, "Father had trade accounts to settle – I was his apprentice at the time."
Mara burned to know more, but Sheftu was artful as ever with his secrets when Bhetosh was present. She made a mental note to ask him more about this later.
Bhetosh poured himself a large cup of wine, gulping it down and belching afterward. "So," Bhetosh stuffed a chunk of bread in his mouth, "let's go over the route."
Hours of arguing later, they had a plan laid. However, Bhetosh became so drunk he had to lie down on his bunk of hides and sleep off the alcohol. Nekonkh stared at Bhetosh with a deep frown.
"Are you sure the King trusts him?" he said quietly to Sheftu, careful none of the crew was listening. Sheftu was beyond anger and regarded Bhetosh with worn disappointment.
"Apparently he has qualities to redeem his idiocy…though I have yet to witness them."
"Does it anger you the way he…flirts with Mara?" Nekonkh said this even lower.
"Captain, I don't know anyone named Mara and haven't noticed any flirting," Sheftu sharply replied, though his expression betrayed the truth – yes, he was angered by all the flirting.
"Aye, of course, I don't know what I was thinking," Nekonkh said quickly, "an old man like myself easily confuses memories and dreams."
"Take care you don't confuse yourself in the wrong company," Sheftu commented blandly, turning away from the sleeping Bhetosh and striding to the other side of the ship. Nekonkh followed him.
"Listen," Nekonkh said gruffly, "what say you to a game of draughts?"
"In your cabin? Lead the way, Captain." Sheftu gestured to allow Nekonkh to walk ahead, ready for whatever private conversation Nekonkh wanted to have. His eyes searched briefly for the lithe, pretty little silhouette of his wife against the harsh Egyptian sun, but she was nowhere to be seen.
The two men went into the captain's cabin and shut the door.
"I was thinking, I know it must be hard, keeping apart from your bride for all this time. Maybe tonight you can share her cabin?" Nekonkh drummed his fingers on the edge of the table as he spoke. Sheftu sighed, looking away.
"You know it's impossible," Sheftu said, "we can't alert the crew. None of them are within the King's trust or aware of the plans."
"This morning, when you visited her, Bhetosh came asking and it was an easy explanation – you were in my cabin, reviewing plans. I didn't need to guess, I knew where the two of ye were." Nekonkh drawled on, "I could say something again…sometimes I can use my wits, though perhaps not as capably as you and the maid – "
"As much as I esteem your endeavors, I would rather not risk the mission again." Sheftu cut him off, his tone ending the subject. Nekonkh regarded him a moment, his old eyes compassionate.
"It isn't fair," he mumbled, "Mara being naught but a little maid, maybe not even twenty years old, saving the King and all of Egypt, only to be cast into the arena again."
Sheftu picked at a loose splinter on the table with his nail, his brow tight. He contemplated his reply for some time, finally saying, "I agree, Captain." He swallowed audibly, and added, "but what choice do we have? I trust our king and Mara loves Egypt and her Canaanite Princess. My only option is to accompany her, protect her, advise her. I would much prefer she stay in Egypt, but Pharaoh insisted she was best suited for the mission."
"It's a tricky net to be caught in, this situation," Nekonkh said. The two men were silent for some time, then Nekonkh began to set up the board game. He grabbed a flask and poured two cups of wine, extending one to Sheftu, who graciously accepted.
"So," Nekonkh said as Sheftu drank his wine, "do ye have a plan in place if she be with child?"
Sheftu choked on his wine. "Pardon?" he sputtered, putting the cup down and coughing.
Nekonkh shrugged and stared at the board, "If the mission is dangerous…it might be wise to have a plan for…that."
Sheftu caught his breath after some struggling but didn't speak.
Nakonkh's thick brows raised on his forehead, and he said, "I know ya be a…younger man, but I imagine you know – "
"Know what?" Sheftu bit in, "how it works?" His voice was incredulous, "Pray, how old do you take me for?"
"I said – "
"No, I don't have a plan," Sheftu interrupted him again, this time grumpily, "though with the lack of time spent together I can't imagine we have much to plan - on that ground - in any case."
"Aye, so you are correct," Nekonkh said with a sigh, seemingly relieved to end the personal subject. Sheftu studied the captain's reddened face with a pang in his heart – such a conversation reminded him of something occurring between father and son, and suddenly his father's absence was keenly felt. By the same token, Nekonkh was the closest thing to a father that Mara had, and his overt concern for her warmed Sheftu deeply. He took his cup again and sipped the dark liquid.
"Captain," Sheftu said after a pause, "if Mara becomes…is with child, you must take her away to somewhere safe, no matter what she says, understand?"
"Aye, of course," Nekonkh gruffed, moving his player on the board.
"You might be the only man I trust with her safety," Sheftu said solemnly, looking into the captain's eyes, "you care for her, and always have."
"As have you," Nekonkh smiled, the wrinkles around his eyes deepening. Sheftu returned the smile.