Chapter 14: Wanderers Welcome
Isis watched from a behind a pillar of smooth stone as her brother ordered another servant to be dragged off to execution for stepping too loudly. She felt no sympathy for the young maid as she was hauled away by the wrists; the girl should have known better than to patter so obnoxiously when in the presence of the Pharaoh.
The Egyptian princess smiled as she gazed at Memphis' face, and though the pinched expression of pain hurt her heart with helplessness, she enjoyed the way the morning sun lit his dark skin in such a halo. She coughed once and fixed her long midnight hair behind her ear before she floated across the hot stone of the court as light as a feather until she laid herself at her brother's side and touched his cheek.
"Memphis, do not show such a pained expression!" she cooed, pulling his jaw to face towards her. "Such an unsightly thing, my love. Carol is but one girl."
Memphis ripped himself from the cradle she had held him in and he bared his teeth, a sharp anger in his eyes as he turned on her.
"Carol is not a mere girl! She is the daughter of the Nile and my fated wife!" he snapped, "Nor is she alone; Harker is also gone! My Golden Set has been stolen, sister, my spouses! How could I not be outraged!?" The king stood and opened his arms to the city of Thebes, a low rumble consuming the air as restless citizens voiced their thoughts until it was a single sentence: "Save the Golden Set."
"Can you not hear them, Isis? They are all calling for their return; for Carol and Harker to come home and rule alongside me. The people of Egypt wish it so! Their pleas will not go unheard!"
"The children of the Nile are in Hatti! We need to get them back! Go to war!"
"They need to be rescued! They will promise us the protection of the Gods!"
"Carol and Harker! Get them back! Rescue them!"
Isis pleaded with her beloved brother but he was persistent and called for the army. Egypt was a land of motion as the time was set with the sun high; they were at war with Hatti.
For Carol and Harker.
Harker. Isis bit the inside of her cheek as she watched her brother storm away and leave her in the sun-bathed court alone. Harker was someone Isis was intensely wary of; she hadn't dragged that strange man to this time like she had Carol, and as such he was a curiosity and something to avoid as she continued to work for her desires. Isis did not believe that the man would be so easily manipulated as Carol, no he'd be much harder to direct - it made her grit her teeth as she glared as slow-moving clouds.
She did not understand where that man came from and sometimes she feared that he, this 'Harker', really was the son of a God. But she always squashed the anxiety when it rose in her chest; when eyes of fluorescent labradorite fixed upon her from across the room and guessed how many mouthfuls she'd make.
Isis found herself wringing her hands at the thought and she quickly ceased the action with an angry huff, refusing to show how that man of white and gold terrified her so.
When the Hattians stole away Carol, she had thought it had been the Gods smiling down at her, but now as the palace searched for Harker as well, she couldn't help but feel her stomach slowly bowing out from within her as dread welled. She wasn't sure how to respond to Harker's presences and that frightened her.
Again, as she stared at the empty cell that once housed the Hattian princess, Isis wondered if Harker truly was the son of a God.
()()()
Carol's back burnt as the court physicians applied salves to the long cut, all of them tutting about how the surrounding skin was bruised and how roughly she had been treated. She grit her teeth and turned her head away clutching the blanket to her naked front, her Egyptian garb forcefully removed from her possession and leaving her bare as the scholarly men scuttled in.
It had been two days since they had dragged her to the feet of the Hattian royal court and dubbed her the reason for their princess' death. Ismir and his family had berated and abused her, the old king had attempted to make a bedfellow of her until the young prince had stepped in - something she was stubbornly refusing to be grateful for.
"Everyone get out."
Carol's breath ceased in her chest as Ismir walked in and sent the others scrambling to follow his order. She clenched her fists around her sheets to stop them from shaking as she squeezed her eyes shut.
The bed shifted beneath her and dread bloomed in the back of her mind as she spun around and found the Hattian prince laid comfortable across from her, unashamed of staring at her pale skin with curiosity.
"...I'm not afraid of you," she said finally, her voice resolute.
Ismir smiled pleasantly like she had complimented him and he threaded his fingers together absently as earthy eyes bored into her blue unblinkingly.
"Do you have any idea how many people are afraid of me? With one word I can bring unrivalled bloodshed to any land," he boasted.
"You want to show me how powerful you are right? Some sort of scare tactic?" Carol snapped, the pain in her back and in her temples playing on her nerves until they were frayed to a thin thread. "It's useless! I don't care how 'feared' you are, so don't bother!"
At his wide-eyed look, Carol deflated and curled further into a ball. She wheezed as she pulled something before grumbling out an angry and exhausted: "Christ...I'm trying to talk? Even I know that's useless with people like him."
If she was stronger like Harker, she might have been able to wrestle her way out of this situation! Oh, to hell with being strong as Harker, maybe if she had just listened to him and waited just one more day! He was right to be cautious!
She missed him when she had been dragged across the Mediterranean; kept hoping that she'd wake up in the morning and see Harker sleeping in all of his awkward and bizarre positions - how did he breathe with his face in a pillow?
Hell, Carol wouldn't have minded waking up to Memphis looming over her, ready to scold her for sleeping through the afternoon. At least then she'd not have this constant fear of the unknown nipping at her heels...She did, kind of, miss Memphis too. He had grown endearing, in his own way, she supposed. She kind of liked how his face lit up when she did small things, like when she had given him that lily. Maybe if he smiled like that more…
"Daughter of the Nile, what are you thinking about?" Ismir asked, moving towards her until she gasped and pulled her legs up to block his approach. "Is it that childish Pharaoh, Memphis, and his Egypt?"
"And? So what if I am, you can't stop me from thinking," she huffed, leaning away as he loomed further at the retort.
"You belong to me now," he warned as if reminding her of some undeniable truth. "You are a slave and I took you. You are an item for trade, and now you are my item."
"No, I am not!"
"Get some sleep, Daughter of the Nile," Ismir said without care, already on his feet by the time the girl's desire to kick him in the throat had boiled over. "I will return for you tomorrow. Do not try to escape, it is useless."
Carol shuddered violently as the door to her lavish cell was slammed shut, her heart beating fast in her chest. Only when she could no longer hear Ismir's footsteps did the tension in her throat released and she took a deep breath, filling her withered lungs.
She had to think. How was she going to get out of here?
()()()
Harker thinned his lips as he loomed behind Milanun, the people of the Hattian port giving the cloaked figures a large breath as they went about their business. He hummed to the woman as she pressed herself to his side when a large cart was wheeled past them, taking up a lot of room on the dock.
"Lifet," the Australian began as the soldier joined them. "What now? Are we just walking in?"
"And cause an uproar?" the soldier hissed.
"Of course!" Milanun agreed, "The palace is my home, I have every right to walk straight through the front door."
Harker blinked before giving a huff of amusement, realising that he was perhaps over thinking the situation. He was just dropping his friend off at their house, same as he did in Australia - albeit, a royal friend at a much larger house.
"Okay, princess, you're right," he sighed, and the girl lifted her chin as if saying a playful 'as always'. "Lifet, take off your cloak. You're one of Ismir's right, so you can get us past most of the guards. Milanun and I will keep ours on until further up to avoid any drama."
"Right," Lifet nodded and shrugged off the tattered traveller's cloak as the white man fixed Milanun's to hide her hair better. "There is a fast way to the palace from the docks used to get the produce to the kitchens. We can take that way."
"Take us," the Hattian royal ordered, and the soldier did so promptly.
Milanun smiled as she watched Harker look about the streets they moved through, concealed eyes taking in the scenery of her home with interest and curiosity. She felt herself flush when he turned to her and grinned, both excited and sheepish.
"You happy to be home?" he asked her quietly.
"Very," she admitted before her smile faded a bit. "But I'm still nervous."
"Yeah?" he hummed, tossing an arm over her shoulder and tugging the princess into his side. "Don't worry too much, they'll be stoked to see you back!"
Milanun squinted at him and he gave a sound of embarrassment and reiterated: "Happy, I mean. I meant they'd be really happy to see you back."
"You're still so strange, Harker," Milanun hummed pleasantly, liking the bashful way the man rubbed his nape as he diverted sky-line eyes.
"Yeah, sorry."
"No, don't be sorry," she corrected, putting her hand on his hidden arm and getting him to look to her again, "It's interesting! You're interesting to me, prince."
"Oh, well, uh, that's good then," the man laughed, and she smiled at the sound.
"Just a bit further, your highness," Lifet called from up ahead, running back to join them after a quick reconnaissance. "We are nearly there, but it seems there is a higher presence of guards; the war on Egypt must be upon us."
"Already? Shit," Harker curse hardly.
"We need to hurry then," Milanun said, straightening her back as she took her hand from her beloved. "If we go quickly, perhaps this can be avoided."
Harker thinned his lips with tension and anxiety as Milanun took down her cloak, the full sun showing how pale she had become and the travelling had left her groggy and rather unkempt despite her best efforts. He took a breath before reaching out and pulling a stray piece of hair behind her ear in a rather meek attempt at reforming her.
Milanun hid the way her hands tightened into fists under her bundled cloak at the touch and it took all her restraint not to cuddle herself into the celestial's side until they melted into one another.
"Here, I'll carry it," the Australian murmured as he took her discarded layer, tucking it under his arm and leaving her burdenless amongst her entourage. "Ready to go home?"
"As ready as I could be," she nodded and Lifet broke them from the alleys and into an open courtyard which was the threshold dividing the rumble of the city and the magnificent structure that was the Hattie royal domain.
The guards which lined the place like decorative statues snapped their heads to the group as if sensing the presences and the reaction took place in ripples of slow-spreading awe. They whispered to one another for a moment before it turned into a roar of collective celebration, one soldier fleeing up the stairs into the court to spread the news as another scrambled to the long-lost Hattian princess and kneeled once in her sphere.
"Your Highness, we receive your return and survival with great relief and gratefulness!"
"The princess does not want to loiter in the sun anymore," Lifet grunted quickly, seeing the way Harker glanced beyond them now and then. "Her Highness demands rest and food; a bath is to be drawn immediately."
"But before that," Milanun began in a voice that was as soft but as strong as the wind and made Harker blink in surprise. "I wish to see my family. Take me to them. Now."
"Of course," Lifet bowed his head quickly and the new guard before them led on with a brisk step.
"No, you stop here," a voice ordered, and a spear came across Harker's chest, effectively blocking him from following the two. "Who are you? Take off your hood and show your face."
"I..." Harker began, biting his tongue when the sound was too thickly set in an Australian accent as the man's face turned into a sneer of distrust.
"Lower your weapon this instant," Milanun demanded with a tone glare that could have frozen the magma of the Earth.
The guard spluttered for a moment before quickly receding off to his platoon who eyed him sharply; they paid Harker no mind from there and he brushed Milanun's elbow as a silent sign of thanks, seeing her smile from the corner of his eye.
Harker looked around at the masonry skill that was displayed, similar and yet very distinct from the Egyptian cousins across the pond. Intricate little design was weaned into the stone and if he were not in such a chaotic life-threatening situation he would have been hard-pressed not to stop and closely inspect the wall's embellished borders.
"The King and his family are holding court at the moment, your highness," the guard wheezed, as they approached a curtained off archway.
Lifet glanced at his princess before ducking through and booming his voice in the room, audible even in the halls.
"Yes, we usually do at this time," Milanun huffed and walked past, bringing Harker with her as the guard eyed the cloaked figure with caution.
()()()
Carol shuddered as she pulled her knees to her chest and shied away from the eyes which bored into her. She had thought she had grown used to such things in the Egyptian court, but novelty must have faded to them as the Hattian gazes ripped her apart a new and left her cold in the hot climate.
Ismir loomed over her shoulder as he grinned at her obvious discomfort, a handful of the back of the girl's dress keeping her thoroughly reigned to his side as she sat on the floor by his feet.
The queen had fallen into a cold silence beside her husband, the two of them sitting as close upon a plush seat as they mourned with dignity and rage. Her husband glanced at Carol now and then blame and anger in his eyes that made the Westerner both ashamed and indignant.
Conversation was bounced about fast; people yelling across the room as they demanded Egyptian blood. It made Carol shiver, their anger permeating the air until it tasted sour on her tongue.
"Your Majesties!"
The shout cut through the crowd with its volume and a soldier stormed into the court, his face set firm and his eyes imploring. He looked worn and daggy like he had come back from something strenuous. She gasped quietly when the face clicked in her memory; the prisoner Memphis had taken for knowledge of blacksmithing.
Carol flinched as Ismir got to his feet to receive the man, but the soldier did not approach further as he gazed ahead.
"Your Majesties, I come bearing news!"
"What news could possibly come from Egypt now?" the king sighed, wrapping an arm around his queen as a sob lurched from her lips.
"The princess has returned!"
Carol gasped, and the sound rippled through the room, everyone hushing into a silence.
"She is here!" he proclaimed, "She is here, and waiting for you to receive her! Please, the princess is very tired from the journey."
"How-?" Ismir began, a course tone to his voice that could have pulled skin from bone, but the Hattian queen stood and spoke over him.
"Bring me my daughter!"
The long curtains of the archway were cast aside with a flourish, light materials floating on the breeze as two figures marched forth. Milanun's face was a stern slate which demanded that she would not be questioned or halted as she came into full view, her royal garb tattered but no less empirical when worn by her decorum.
"I'm home," she hummed, voice flowing through the room.
Like the flip of a switch the queen sprung from her husband and ran across the foyer, grabbing up her child in an unyielding grip. The king was quick to follow and Carol let out a breath as Ismir also abandoned her side to greet his sister.
"Milanun, what happened to you? Tell us who did this!" the Hattian king demanded, touching a thin scratch on her tanned cheek.
"The Egyptian princess Isis," she declared and a ripple of outrage pulsed through the room, nobles and servants alike gritting their teeth as they breathed rough with anger. "She grew jealous of me and trapped me in a cell deep under the palace. I was sure to die."
"Then how did you escape?" Ismir asked, hands shaking in their fists from seeing the childish little sister of his so caked in dirt.
Her family blinked then as her eyes gained a shine they had never seen in her before, but recognised from the gazes of many others around them. She smiled and brushed her father's hand off gently before answering the question.
"I was saved."
"By who?" her mother asked.
From under the dark hood of sea air-stained cloth, the blue fluorite eyes of Harker dragged across the occupants of the room, ignoring how each member seemed to shiver as he scrutinised them for blond hair, pale skin or Nile eyes.
"By him," Milanun sighed and touched the man's shoulder, but he had already taken a step forward. "What's wrong?"
"So this is where you were," Harker boomed easily, enchanting and confusing the people with his tongue before Carol lurched to her feet.
"Harker? Oh my God, Harker, is that you?" she gasped as Ismir snapped around and eyed them.
"Milanun, who is this?" the prince asked, moving to black the cloaked figure's view of the pale woman. "Why does he speak the Nile's language?"
"You are in a world of trouble, shiela. Let me tell you!" Harker huffed, crossing his arm as he peered over the prince's head to glare at Carol. "I had to travel on about for over a week for this shit."
"Who are you?!" Ismir roared and grabbed the garb from his shoulders, ripping it off in a wide arch.
Harker glared with zircon eyes that cut through Ismir as the cloak came away from his alabaster skin, golden strands tousled with the rough handling as sending them to be windswept until his hand came to pat them back. He grunted and bared pearly teeth in annoyance as one of the rings on his fingers caught his hair and he dropped his hand to his hip with a huff of exasperation as he eyed the prince who stood baffled before him.
"Was that really necessary, Prince Ismir?" Harker drawled, staring down at the shorter being.
Carol smiled despite the threat that had been tossed her way and launched herself from her spot, stumbling out of the way of guards' reaching hands and pushed Ismir out of the way without a care. She let out a sobbed laugh as she latched onto her friend, face buried in his pale shoulder.
"Hey, dumbass," Harker laughed, wrapping his arms around her too.
"Don't be mean to me," she whined but kept a grip on him still.
In a moment, three guards had followed and reached forward, grasping Carol by her golden hair, tugging her back as she yelped in pain and struggled against it. They glanced about panicked, avoiding eye contact with the princ they had failed to contain the 'servant' for as they tried their luck glaring down the Australian.
"Oi, let go!" Harker snapped and shoved the guards away, leaving them to stumble as Carol massaged her scalp to ease the pain.
"How dare you!? Egyptian dog!"
"Why is everyone calling me a dog?" Harker sighed, before straightening as four blades were pointed his way, quick to shive Carol behind him even as she wrapped her around him in a way that shielded his vitals.
"How dare you raise a blade against my companion? Do you wish to insult the man who protected me when Hattian soldiers fell short? Brother, I thought you wiser than that!"
The family of royals visibly flinched at the verbal strike as if they had been bat across the heart. Ismir pursed his lips at his sister, not used to her being so aggressive in her stances. Where had the sweet, spoilt little girl gone?
"Harker was the one who rescued me from that hellish cell! He was the one who nursed me back to health; who mended my wounds!" she snapped, making the guards shy away for fear of their livelihoods.
"Wounds!?" the Queen gasped, "What wounds!?"
Milanun scoffed and pulled her skirt away to present the hard, scar tissue that rode up her calf; no longer ashamed of the marr, presenting it instead as if it were a medallion.
"Oh, my baby!"
"Isis did this to you?" the king hissed.
"The cell she was in was in disarray," Harker began, tugging at her skirt to let him see if anything had become of it since he had last checked. "She fell and cut herself deep; maggots made a home in it when I had found her."
"Mother, father," Ismir said, drawing attention back to him,. "Perhaps we should let Milanun bathe and rest for a while. She has obviously had a tiring journey which she can tell us about, in detail, once she is more comfortable."
"True, son; you speak true," the king nodded and then turned to his daughter. "Go and settle yourself, Milanun. We will have a feast tonight to celebrate your return!"
"Then we should leave," Harker murmured to Carol, the girl ducking under his arm to return his gaze. "We should try and intercept the Egyptians before they reach shore."
"Will we have time? And the Hattians, will they attack anyway? The war has already been declared," she whispered, playing with the tips of her fingers. "Before we leave, you need to rest. Just for tonight; there is a feast, so even the servants will be fed a portion tonight."
"What are you talking about?" Milanun asked the man gently, touching his arm to garner his attention away from the little pale woman.
Harker looked to the Hattian royal and smiled, the tightness around her eyes that had lingered in Egypt had slipped away in the hours spent on her home's soil.
"Carol is telling me about celebration feasts. I don't really hang around for things like these," he admitted, thinking to the parties back home in Australia where his mother got wine-drunk with the local mums.
He often groaned when the barrage of door-bells rung out and slunk out the backdoor to the beach. Harker had never been a party-person, foregoing even the year 10 formal dinner, year 11 social and completely ignoring his classmate's nagging about their year 12 formal graduation dinner. The Australian youth had no doubt that he'd spend that night on his couch with an unhealthy amount of Mcdonalds beside him while he watched 'Better Homes and Gardens'.
"Hm? Why not?" the princess hummed.
"Not really my kind of thing. It gets pretty boring with all the speeches and dumb jokes," he shrugged before sharing a kind of conspirative smile with the girl.
The king and queen blinked at the exchange and then looked to one another, something passing between their eyes.
"I'll make sure Milanun is settled in first and that she doesn't screw up her leg, then we'll check on what's making you hide your shoulder."
Carol flinched when his fingers brushed the spot that was layered with bandages.
"That Ismir decided to punish me when I tried to escape; it wasn't that bad at first, but the boat ride wasn't comfortable," she admitted, lowering her eyes as the man hissed under his breath and felt around it's perimeter.
"Harker, the princess is leaving now," Lifet nudged gently and the white man murmured a quick thanks.
"You," Ismir began, eyeing the hold the stranger had on the Nile's daughter. "Leave her, she is mine."
Harker frowned and squeezed his hold on his friend, feeling the girl squirm her way deeper into his chest in rejection of the man's insistence.
"Carol does not belong to you, she never did."
The Queen was standing with her daughter still and had turned her mind from the subject long ago, but the king continued to watch with interest. The Daughter of the Nile's master was up for debate, and he did love a good auction.
"She is a slave," Ismir huffed before he paused and a rather mean smile took his face as he rolled his shoulders back. "And so are you, Harker."
"In whose eyes?" he grunted.
"In the eyes of the Haitian royalty and thus the law."
"Mhm," Harker hummed, brows raised sceptically, all too used to Memphis and seven hours too tired to deal with this. "Milanun!" he called, hearing some people gasp at the blatant disrespect.
"Yes?" she blinked, looking up from her mother's fussings.
"Am I a slave?"
"What? Of course not!" the princess huffed, looking insulted at the very idea and Harker gave to happy grin to the prince Ismir before letting Carol tug him away before minds could be swayed.
"Don't antagonise him!" Carol hissed as they followed the royal women.
"But he was being a dick," Harker whined, and she sighed as she let him mess up her hair. "And you're still not off the hook, little lady."
"I know," she murmured, cowed, and he snorted before giving her a firm, one armed hug.
Milanun watched over her shoulder with a frown as she eyed how the white girl cuddled into Harker's side like some sort of anxious, touch-starved pup. She didn't like it, but made no move against it just yet, she at least understood the desire to remain close to those familiar after being displaced - the young princess gripped her mother's wrist tighter as they walked.