Disclaimer: Usual routine. Mummies Alive is property of DIC
Entertainment. I will probably make references to the book Shadow Hawk
by Andre Norton in this chapter and chapters to follow. No copyright
infringement is intended. Shadow Hawk is a must read for anyone interested
in ancient Egypt. Rhett belongs to Cyrus and Rathera is Rathera's character,
and a great big thank you goes out to them for letting me use their characters
in this story. This story is not part of the normal MA fic-verse, which is kind
of obvious if you take note of the way I fiddle with some character histories
to make them fit the story better. Also, don't look for accurate historical facts in this fic. If there's something I don't know, I
make it up. If you've actually
read down this far, then I ask you to please take note of the warning which
will appear at the beginning of all chapters of Scarab Saga. I really don't care about the ages of
whoever reads this because I feel that if you think you can handle it, then you
can read it. However, I wouldn't
want to be accused of warping the minds of young children and/or destroying
their faith in their favorite characters, so I now give you a brief warning of
what to expect in Scarab Saga.
Warning: This story contains mature themes not
suitable for young children. So,
if you have a problem with the portrayal (either directly stated or implied) of
sex, blood, murder, violence, incest, and homosexuality then go find something
else to read.
Author's Note: This chapter takes place a couple of weeks after where
chapter 1 left off.
The Scarab Saga – Chapter 2: Blood Ties
Rath's eyes traveled over the letter he had
already read countless times. In his cramped room, the droning buzz of a fly
sounded impossibly loud, but could not interrupt the scribe's concentration.
Rath sat silently, trying to divine the reason for his father's anger in the
terse script. The letter, however, offered no answers; only more questions.
Rath's last letter home had been nothing really
out of the ordinary. It told of the normal palace gossip and gave assurances
that his sister was not disgracing the family. The most unusual part of the
letter was where the lord vizier Scarab had sent his good wishes. At the time,
Rath hadn't thought of such a polite request as out of the ordinary. Now
though, reading his father's words, Rath could only wonder. 'Never mention
that man's name to me again!' the letter ordered.
The command was easy enough to understand and to
follow, but the reasons behind it seemed almost unfathomable. Lord Scarab had
never before given any sign of knowing Rath's family before, yet there was
almost no doubt that in Rath's mind that some meeting had happened sometime
between Rath's father and Lord Scarab in which a conflict had arisen.
Rath shook his head over the puzzle. Did he dare
question Lord Scarab? 'No,' Rath decided. 'It is not my place.'
Still, as he folded the already worn piece of papyrus, the scribe found himself
trying to concoct a reason to show the letter to Lord Scarab. Whatever Rath
decided to do about the letter, he knew, would be settled tonight. Lord Scarab
would leave for Nubia at sunset.
*~*~*~*~*
Scarab stepped solemnly out onto the balcony for
his last view of Thebes before leaving for Nubia. A stiff breeze thrust itself
at his henhet. Rather than risk losing the tall hat, Scarab took it off and set
it on the ground by his feet. Leaning against the carved stone railing, Scarab
gazed at the city stretching out before him.
The breeze brushed against his bared head like a
lover's caress and whistled past his ears, carrying with it the sounds of the
city below. A sharp pang of homesickness wrenched sharply at Scarab. He would
miss this city that had been his home for so many years. In a few hours, the
sun would sink below the horizon, and Scarab, accompanied by the only woman he
had ever truly loved, would begin traveling across the red sands of the desert
to far-off Nubia.
Amenhotep thought that Scarab was going to Nubia
merely as a peace ambassador. Little did the Living Horus suspect that Scarab
had his own motives for leaving. 'And when I return from Nubia,' Scarab
swore to himself, 'Both Amenhotep's and Rapses's lives shall be cut short,
and I shall rule!' Once Scarab became pharaoh, he would proclaim Rathera
his wife. Then, their child, which Scarab felt certain would be a son, would
become heir.
"Lord Scarab?" The soft voice broke into Scarab's
reveries. Whirling around quickly, arms up to defend himself, Scarab found
himself face-to-face with Rhett, and quickly became embarrassed that he had
allowed himself to be startled so easily. Rhett, for his part, pretended not to
notice his master's discomfiture. "The Pharaoh wishes to know if you are ready,
my lord," Rhett said with a bow.
Scarab turned away to take one last look at the
city, trying to burn every last detail into his memory. Long silent moments
passed, broken only by the sound of Rhett shifting uncomfortably from one foot
to another. Finally, without bothering to turn around and face Rhett directly,
Scarab answered, "Tell the Chosen of Ra that I am indeed ready." Rhett left his
master quickly, seeming almost to vanish. Any watchers, though, would have
noticed him rushing through the shadowed halls with his quick, ground eating
pace.
*~*~*~*~*
Rathera waited impatiently by the palace gates for
Scarab. Several soldiers and some attendants milled around the small square as
well. Everyone appeared to be all packed and ready. All they lacked was the man
they were supposed to be escorting. Scarab, much to her intense annoyance, had
yet to show himself.
One of the charioteers, Nefer, a young man Rathera
barely knew though he was a member of Rapses's guardians, strolled past leading
a horse. The great beast's glossy black coat shone like fire in the orange glow
of the setting sun, and Rathera could have sworn it cast her a malevolent look
as it followed Nefer to the waiting chariot.
Rathera watched as Nefer skillfully harnessed the
horse to the chariot. Why anyone would voluntarily work with those four-footed
menaces, Rathera would never understand. Quite frankly, horses terrified her.
Rathera was grateful that Scarab had arranged for her to ride in a chariot
instead of on one of the horses. She only wished that she had been able to talk
Scarab into letting her travel in a litter instead so that she need not be near
the horses, but he had drawn the line there claiming that it would be too
suspicious.
Rathera could almost swear that the horse never
stopped watching her, and she shivered, knowing that this was going to be a
long trip. Nefer finished harnessing the horse and approached Rathera. "How
much longer do you think the vizier will be?" he asked, his voice cracking
slightly.
Rathera merely shrugged, not really in the mood to
speak to the boy. Even as she gave her silent answer, Scarab came out of the
palace. Rathera craned her neck slightly for a better view as she saw Rath
following behind Scarab.
Rath ran up to Scarab, had the audacity to grab
the vizier by the shoulder, and spun Scarab around to face him. 'Scarab's
going to kill him for that!' Rathera thought. Much to her surprise though,
Scarab only smiled as Rath thrust a piece of papyrus at him. After reading over
the parchment, Scarab said something to Rath, and calmly ripped up the paper,
scattering the pieces to the wind. Seeing the look on Rath's face, Rathera
would've given anything to know what Scarab had told her brother.
Scarab neared Rathera, acting as if nothing had
happened. His smooth easy gait ate up the distance between them. A groom led a
horse to Scarab, and the vizier took the reins. Patting the horse's neck to
calm it, Scarab easily swung himself over the horse's back. The horse pawed the
earth skittishly, it's hooves seeming sharp and dangerous to Rathera.
So intently was Rathera watching Scarab that she
didn't notice Rhett until he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Time for us to go,
Lady Rathera," Rhett murmured. Rathera shook her head as though awakening from
a long sleep. Following Rhett, her pace slowed as she approached the horse and
chariot. Already, Rathera could feel her stomach doing flip-flops. Morning
sickness was bad enough without adding motion sickness to it. With a sigh,
Rathera realized that this was going to be a long trip.
Silently, Rathera stepped into the chariot, not
even bothering to look at Nefer as she gripped the outer edge so tightly her
knuckles turned white. "Easy there," Nefer laughed, speaking almost as though
he were talking to one of his horses. "We've not even started the journey yet."
Rathera loosened up her hold just a bit and closed her eyes, wishing she could
close her nose to the musty smell of horse as easily.
Because she had nothing better to do, Rathera
began to compose the party in her mind. There would be three warriors armed
with bow and spear both in front and in back to protect the group from attacks
by roving bands of Bwedanii. Rhett, acting according to Scarab's orders would
stay close to her and attend on her needs. Finally, when not scouring the
desert for extra food to go with the packed rations, Arakh would most likely be
found near Scarab. Traveling would be done in the early morning and at night,
while during the hottest part of the day they would all rest.
Rathera nodded silently to herself, pleased at how
well Scarab had worked out the travel arrangements. Pharaoh had insisted that
they go to Nubia by boat, but Scarab had shrewdly pointed out that a trip by
land would give him the chance to better observe the conditions of Nubia.
Amazingly, Amenhotep had agreed, never once suspecting that Scarab's actual
reason for a land trip was that it would take more time.
If Scarab felt that he could keep negotiations
with Nubia going long enough for Rathera to have her baby, then she knew he
could. The vizier was a veritable master of foreign relations. No doubt Scarab
intended on establishing a few alliances from which he alone would profit as
well.
Much to Rathera's surprise, Nefer began cursing at
the pace being set by the advance guard. "Surely you can't want to go faster?"
Rathera gasped, finding the notion inconceivable since the small chariot was
moving at a speed she'd previously thought impossible. Before Nefer could
answer though, he had to catch Rathera as she nearly fell. Rathera closed her
eyes and held tightly to the slender young man. Taking long shuddering breaths,
Rathera prayed fervently that she wouldn't become ill on the long trip ahead.
The swaying and jolting of the chariot, however, seemed determined to thwart
her resolve.
*~*~*~*~*
Scarab sat thoughtfully upon the sand, his mind
already playing out the intricate game that would begin when the group entered
Nubia tomorrow. A border patrol of Nubian archers would meet them. 'How
many?' he asked himself. "Too few will be an insult, showing we are not
highly regarded. "Too many will be seen as a show of force designed to cover a
weak position," Scarab murmured. At a guess, Scarab figured that the Nubian
government would try to match the number in Scarab's own party.
Politics were Scarab's life. The infinite
complexities delighted him, and he knew there was no greater game. He could
almost picture the upcoming negotiations, guessing at the arguments of the
Nubian government and tailoring his own responses, to which he then prepared
even more ways to counter any resistance to the ideas he proposed.
Huddled by the vizier's side, Rathera stirred
slightly. Not caring who saw, Scarab wrapped an arm protectively around
Rathera's shoulders. He never would have guessed that the trip would have been
so hard on her. As she slept, Scarab ran his fingers through her hair, wishing
that he did not have to awaken her. "Rathera," Scarab whispered. "Rathera, we
must leave now."
Rathera groaned softly, a tormented sound that
wrenched Scarab's heart. The dark rings under Rathera's eyes attested to the
minuscule amount of sleep she had gotten on the journey. Shaking his head
sadly, Scarab wished he could have found an easier way to travel. He consoled
himself with the knowledge that when they got to Semna, they would be able to
rest.
Scarab shook his head to rouse himself from his
reverie. Once again he tried to awaken Rathera. "Arise, sister," he murmured,
knowing that she would accept the title merely as a sign of familiarity instead
of reading into it the truth it hid. This time Rathera's eyes did flutter open.
Scarab passed Rathera a piece of hard bread, which she washed down with sour
tasting water. The soldier's rations they had been living on had been well
augmented by Arakh's hunting skills, but the simple fare still proved
unsatisfying. "Soon," Scarab promised. "We shall be in Semna where we can wash
off all these layers of travel dirt and feast upon a decent meal."
Slowly, Rathera rose, leaning her weight against
Scarab. As Scarab led his beloved to the chariot, Arakh came skidding down a
hill, trailing up a cloud of dust behind him. Slung over his shoulder the
hunter carried a fowl he had killed for their next meal, but that was not the
reason for his excitement. Dashing over to Scarab's side, Arakh began
chattering quickly, trying to get his news out in a rush. "The Border Patrol!"
he gasped, swilling down water. "I saw them! Ten warriors, all armed with those
funny Nubian bows."
Scarab nodded to himself, his guess about the size
of the Nubian escort proved correct. Should violence break out, the fighters
would be nearly evenly matched then, though combat from a distance would give
the Nubians the advantage for their "funny Nubian bows" had a greater range
than the Egyptian ones. Though violence was not expected, Scarab decided it
would be best to proceed with caution. A sudden thought struck Scarab. "Arakh,
what sort of fletching did their arrows have?"
Arakh shook his head at the unexpected question.
"I... I did not see, Lord Scarab. I just took a count of their warriors and
came to report to you right away."
Hissing angrily through clenched teeth, Scarab
swung his staff at Arakh. "Set take you!" he cursed. "Our very lives could
depend on those arrows, and you pay no attention to them whatsoever!" As Arakh
stuttered apologies, Scarab struggled to regain control of his temper.
Scarab should have known though that the impulsive
hunter would miss such a tiny detail. He knew though that if the Border
Patrol's arrows bore the fletching of the Bwedanii then they were setting up an
ambush within the Egyptian borders. However, if the arrows bore proper Nubian
fletching, then the Patrol had been sent into Egypt to make certain that
Scarab's party arrived safely in Semna. Perhaps there was some danger ahead that
the Border Patrol had come to warn about.
Shaking his head at all the possibilities, Scarab
began to slowly formulate a plan. He spun around quickly on his heel to face
the nervous warriors. "You six," he told the escort, "will begin setting up
fortifications. Use whatever you can find to make this place secure." The
warriors quickly scattered and set to work transforming the harsh desert
environs into a defensible camp.
With the first part of his plan underway, Scarab
began preparing phase two. "Go to the Border Patrol's camp," he commanded Rhett
with more courage than he felt. "Go unarmed as a sign of good faith and arrange
for a meeting between myself and the commander. Neither side is to bring
troops. And for Ra's sake, do your best to see what kind of fletching their
arrows have!" Rhett nodded and scampered off across the sand dunes.
Now Scarab found himself facing Nefer and Arakh,
the two awaiting their orders. "I need both of you to be well-rested. When I go
to meet the Nubian captain, I want Arakh to accompany me and watch from a
distance. Should any sort of betrayal occur, get back to camp and alert Nefer.
Boy," he said to Nefer, "if Arakh should come with news of betrayal, take the
freshest horse and ride back to Thebes. If possible, take Rathera with you."
Scarab had done all that he could do for now, and
now all he could do was wait. Slowly, he sank down to sit upon the sand and
stare out at the horizon, awaiting Rhett's return.
*~*~*~*~*
Even with his seer's Sight telling him he had a
future beyond this day, Rhett couldn't suppress his nervousness. Two of the
Nubian archers aimed arrows straight at him as he entered the encampment. The
others began scanning the horizon for any troops that might have followed
Rhett.
Rhett stood as still as a stone as he faced the
Nubians. He knew that his very life depended on how well Scarab had guessed
their intentions. Belatedly, he remembered to take a good look at the arrows;
white fletching, he saw but did not understand what it meant.
A tall, sharp-featured man approached Rhett, his
easy rolling stride like that of a wildcat's. He wore an intricately detailed
silver bracer and carried a captain's sistrum, ready at any moment to signal
his men. Rhett spread his hands slowly. "I am unarmed," he told the Nubians.
The captain's stony features split into a wide
grin. "Then you are a fool, Egyptian," he laughed. "The Nubian desert holds
many dangers for the unwary." With a flick of his wrist, the captain brought
forth from the sistrum a sharp rattling buzz. Rhett held his breath until he
saw the archers stand at ease. "Now, speak," the captain ordered.
Feeling very much like a mouse caught in the
hypnotic gaze of a serpent, Rhett hesitantly began to do as he was told. "My
master, the Lord Vizier Scarab, wishes to meet with you, sir, alone. He wishes
to determine your presence on this side of the border and avoid conflict." The
words left Rhett in a rush, and the young servant stood silent.
Now that Rhett had completed his assigned task, he
felt a bit more at ease. The young servant had not failed his master. Since the
captain was considering his response and not firing questions at Rhett, Rhett
decided to take the time to observe the captain and learn what he could about
the leader of the Nubian patrol.
The first thing that struck Rhett as odd was the
captain's age, or lack thereof. The captain was no grizzled, battle-scarred
veteran, but a young and handsome man. He was shorter than those under his
command and more delicately built, hinting at the possibility of Egyptian
blood. As Rhett took note of the captain's lean build and taut muscles,
however, he knew this man was no dainty court butterfly. The captain could,
without a doubt, hold his own in a fight.
"We shall leave now." The captain's words pried their
way into Rhett's thoughts. Rhett had to frown. This wasn't what Scarab had
wanted. "You and I alone shall go to your camp, servant," the captain
continued, ignoring the protests from his men. "Your master knows we are all in
a situation ripe with opportunities for misunderstandings; misunderstandings
which could prove fatal. I will not accept a meeting under his terms. You came
among us alone and unarmed as a sign of good faith. Now, I shall do the same."
The captain handed his bow and a bronze dagger with a curved blade over to his
second-in-command.
*~*~*~*~*
Scarab sat silently upon the sand, composing in
his mind how he wished for the meeting with the Nubian commander to go. He'd
not moved since he'd given his last order, and he could feel the eyes of the
escort upon him, wondering whether the heat had made him crazy. He could
envision two possible outcomes to the upcoming meeting. Either the size of the
escort would increase as the Nubians joined them, or he would be dead. Politics
was always a gamble, and these were the stakes for which the game was played.
Anything less would almost seem pointless.
Two men coming over the dune caught Scarab's
eye. One Scarab recognized quite easily as his servant. The other
he did not know. 'Apparently,' Scarab realized, 'there has been
a slight change of plans.' Quickly, Scarab began to revise his own
plans. Coming slowly to his feet, Scarab went to greet the newcomer.
The stranger had a trim athletic build that Scarab
knew couldn't have come from court life. His stature was slighter than
the typical Nubian, and his skin, though healthily tanned, was not quite as
dark. Some of the tenseness left Scarab as he realized that the Nubian
government had sent an Egyptian to greet them. Both men stopped several feet
from each other and bowed. When they straightened again, they watched
each other warily, each trying to guess the motives of the other. At last
the stranger broke the tense silence with an introduction. "I am Rahotep
III. I would assume you are the Egyptian ambassador."
Scarab nodded, but didn't provide a name yet. "Are
you descended from-" Scarab started to ask, but didn't need to finish the
question as the young man confirmed it. Scarab's eyes narrowed. So
this young man claimed to be descended from the great hero Rahotep, who had
been pivotal in pushing back the Hyksos. With no proof though, Scarab
wasn't about to trust this man. He didn't know how things went between
soldiers, but what he did know was the first rule of surviving in a political
arena was to trust no one. What he needed was proof. "Please,
pardon my skepticism," Scarab murmured.
*~*~*~*~*
Rahotep stifled an exasperated sigh. He'd
marched his patrol double-time to the Egyptian border to escort some diplomat
to Semna and he was being held up because there was some question as to his
identity! How was he supposed to prove who he was to this arrogant
aristocrat? He did not have those who had fought with is grandfather
among his troops. Many had already gone on to paradise. Rahotep
didn't march with a great black panther at his side, as his grandfather
had. All Rahotep had was...
Slowly, Rahotep extended an arm to the pale
diplomat to reveal a gauntlet of intricately worked silver. The
gauntlet bore the symbol of his grandfather's father, the sign of the
Hawk. The other man, looking pleased, nodded. With a flourishing
bow, he finally identified himself to the soldier. "I am Scarab."
Rahotep knelt low, palms towards the ground, a salute that recognized the
authority that this Egyptian man now held over him. Rahotep was bound by
his oaths to get this man and his party safely to Semna.
Another bond also held the young soldier to his
mission. He had come to Nubia to make his own fame so that he would not
have to live all of his life under his grandfather's shadow. To Rahotep,
living under the shadow of the Shadow Hawk was unbearable! He wanted the
chance to build his own life.
Rahotep bid a hasty farewell to Scarab, promising
to return with his men after sunset to lead Scarab on to Semna. Dashing
off, Rahotep made it back to his own camp. Once his men made known their
joy and relief at his return, Rahotep stood as tall as he could. "Tonight
we join the Egyptian party. Today, we rest." Without another word,
the young captain went off to his tent to let his actions agree with his words.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Rathera shivered in a dream. She knew that
with all of the uncertainty about the Nubians that she should stay awake, but
her body wouldn't cooperate. Lately, all she wanted to do was sleep.
Once Scarab had left to plan, Rathera had laid down. She trusted
Scarab to take care of her.
In her dream, all was dark around Rathera, but
through the darkness, voices and sounds reached her. She heard sobbing
and knew it was her mother. The next sound to reach her ears was the
voice of her father. "You have disgraced this family! Begone!
You are no son of mine." Rathera frowned at her father's words.
Who could he be talking to? Not Rath, certainly, but Rath was the
only son her parents had.
A moistness touched Rathera's lips and her eyes
fluttered open, the dream fading as she smiled up at Scarab. Scarab
smiled back down at her and passed her his water skin. "Drink, beloved
sister," he murmured. "Drink and rest. Tonight, the Nubians join us
and lead us on to Semna." Rathera drank eagerly from the water skin, only
half-hearing Scarab's words.
Once Rathera's thirst had been sated, Scarab took
the water skin and left her tent. Rathera stared at the empty place
beside her and sighed, wishing Scarab could stay. Once out of Thebes,
Scarab had become a bit freer in showing his feelings for her, but even still
he was careful not to arouse suspicions. With yet another sigh, Rathera
laid back down and soon drifted off into a sleep unplagued by strange dreams.
*~*~*~*~*
Night spread her starry fingers over the desert.
Rhett watched the soldiers expertly break up camp as he sliced some of
the fowl Arakh had killed earlier. Being careful not to burn his fingers,
Rhett set the still-steaming meat on a makeshift plate and carried it into
Rathera's tent. The tenseness outside had not yet invaded this one tent.
Rhett smiled at the sight of Rathera's sleeping
form. She slept huddled up, her body tucked in as small as possible.
Even in sleep, the rigors of the journey thus far were imprinted in hard
lines on her face. Still, Rhett knew that sleep was Rathera's escape.
She was both physically and mentally exhausted. Rhett only hoped
that the baby forming within her was faring better.
Rhett set the plate beside Rathera and watched as
her nostrils flared as she took in the smell of the food like some wild
animal. He'd learned the hard way
that waking Rathera quickly resulted in her getting out her daggers. Sure enough, in her own time, Rathera
sat up and began eating. She did
not even give Rhett a second glance until there wasn't a bite left.
When Rhett knelt to take the plate, Rathera
grabbed his arm. "Are we really
going to make it?" she asked, her body tense with unspoken fears. Rhett nodded, and as he gave his
answer, he felt the truth in it. He realized that he knew that they were going to make it to Semna.
Rhett wanted to give Rathera more assurances than
just his word, but how could he explain to her how he knew? How could he tell her that, for him,
the slightest breeze whispered what was to be? How do you tell someone that the shadows promise fascinating
tidbits of the future? To these
questions, Rhett knew only one answer. You didn't. The most Rhett
could do was assure Rathera that all would be well. "We will be leaving soon," Rhett said at last. "The Nubians will take us on to Semna." Rathera nodded, accepting what she was
told, and began rolling her sleeping skin. Rhett deftly began to help Rathera take down her tent.
Now that everything was all packed and ready to
go, Rhett took a moment to savor the cool night breeze as it lapped at his warm
skin. A barbarous yawp rose up
from the desert sands and Rhett's blood turned to ice in his veins. He tried to tell himself that it was
just a wild dog barking at the moon, but the sudden tenseness of the soldiers,
both Egyptian and Nubian, belied this.
Just as the soldier's hustled Rhett to the center
of their grouping along with Scarab and Rathera, the first of the Bwedanii
warriors crested the dune. It was
hard to make out the warrior in the dim light provided by the moon and the
torches. He wasn't quite as tall
as the Nubians, but his skin was just as dark, as though the desert sun had
baked him black. He let out a wild
whoop and began dashing down the dune towards the camp. Suddenly he stumbled and rolled the
rest of the way down. Rhett barely
got a glimpse of the arrow that had felled the Bwedanii warrior.
It had to have been one of the Nubians that had
killed the Bwedanii, Rhett realized. Egyptian bows just didn't have that kind of distance. Other Bwedanii were peering over the
dune. Rhett could see them
moving. There had to be several
dozen at least, maybe more still out of sight. At some signal Rhett couldn't hear, the Bwedanii swarmed
towards the camp. Rhett closed his
eyes, unable to watch, and a vision engulfed him.
*~*~*~*~*
What Scarab did know, however, was that fighting
prowess alone would not win this battle. He was going to have to use magic. Unfortunately, the spell he had in mind was a difficult one. He needed some help. All the while keeping an eye on the
Bwedanii at the perimeter, Scarab filled Rathera in on his plan. With a nod, she set her dagger down and
took Scarab's hands. He couldn't
help but notice that her hands were cold and clammy, her eyes wide with
fear. Scarab was willing to bet
that he mirrored her terror, but now was not the time to wonder about such
things.
The battle raged outside the circle of soldiers,
the Bwedanii thus far unable to penetrate any further. Scarab could see, though, that at any
minute the Bwedanii would break through. The soldiers couldn't hold up forever. Beside him, Scarab could see Rathera standing ready with a
dagger. Even in her weakened
condition, she was determined not to go down without a fight, though what good
a dagger would do against a spear, Scarab did not know.
What Scarab did know was that fighting prowess
alone would not win this battle. There were just too many Bwedanii. Magic was needed. Unfortunately, the spell Scarab had in mind was almost impossible for
one person to perform alone. "Beloved sister, I have a plan," he murmured to Rathera, hoping that the
familiar title would calm her some. Once he was sure he had Rathera's attention, Scarab began to quickly
outline his plan for her. Rathera
nodded when he finished, and set down her dagger. Then she took Scarab's hands in her own. He noticed that her hands were cold and
clammy, her eyes wider than normal. These were the only signs of her fear, and Scarab could only hope that
he hid his own fear as successfully.
Forcing himself to concentrate only on the spell
and to not think about the battle, Scarab began channeling energy into the ring
formed by himself and Rathera. He
could feel her doing likewise as their energies mingled. Scarab was only dimly aware of the
Bwedanii breaking through. Soon,
though, it wouldn't matter. He had
much more important things to do; he had to shape the gathered energy.
A loud cry broke through to Scarab, and he turned
his head just in time to see a Bwedanii warrior stumble into the sand beside
him. Rhett stood above the
warrior, holding Rathera's dagger. The blade was coated in red. "I… I saw… Had to stop him…." The words came from the young servant
sounding almost dead. His face was
a blank mask. Scarab wanted to
take the time to at least thank Rhett, but the energy beckoned to him once
again.
Allowing nothing else to disturb them, Scarab gave
the magical energy purpose. Shields of magic formed around Egyptian and Nubian alike, causing
Bwedanii spears to bounce harmlessly away from their intended targets. The Bwedanii snarled impotent curses as
they realized that, for them, the battle was lost. Before they could lose anymore of their number, the desert
wild men turned and fled.
Scarab stumbled to the ground and tried to release
Rathera's hands so that he would not drag her down as well. She maintained her grip, though, and
would not let Scarab fall next to the Bwedanii corpse. Just as Scarab had been Rathera's
strength through the trip thus far, she would now be his strength.
Another set of arms helped lift Scarab up, and the
sorcerer found himself staring into Rahotep's beaming face. "Well fought, sir! Well fought indeed!" the soldier
extolled as he helped Rathera drag Scarab to the chariot. Scarab smiled wanly, wishing that he
wasn't showing this much weakness in front of the troops. He couldn't help it, though. Managing that much mystical energy had
left him as weak as a newborn kitten. At least they'd won, though. That was what counted.
*~*~*~*~*
Rahotep supervised the soldiers as they finished
breaking up the camp. Even though
they were all elated by the victory, no one wanted to stick around in case the
Bwedanii decided that they wanted a rematch. Some of Rahotep's men had been for leaving right away and
leaving the tents. Rahotep
overruled them, though. Semna was
several days away, and they would be glad of the tents to shade them from the
day's heat long before they arrived.
Soon everyone was mounted and ready to go. Rahotep noticed that Scarab's servant
was hanging back a bit and slowed his horse to match the pace of Rhett's horse. Rhett seemed not to notice Rahotep as
he kept his gaze firmly on his horse's mane. "That was your first kill, wasn't it?" Rahotep asked.
Rhett's head jerked around towards Rahotep so fast
that Rahotep was half-surprised the young man didn't break his neck. The two men rode together in
silence. Rahotep didn't repeat his
question. He didn't have to. The look on Rhett's face had been
answer enough. Normally, Rahotep
would have recommended giving Rhett time to work through his feelings, but in
this case, time was something they didn't have much of. If Rhett couldn't get over what he'd
done, then he would be less than worthless to his master. When the silence became unbearable,
Rahotep tried again to get through to Rhett. "If you hadn't killed him, he would have killed your master,
and then all our lives might have been lost."
Somehow, Rhett seemed to find his voice, though
just barely. "I keep seeing it in
my head. He keeps crumpling up as
I stab him. There's so much
red. Why won't it go away?" Rhett hunched in on himself as though
trying to hide from the world.
Rahotep nudged his horse close enough to Rhett's
so that he could place a hand on Rhett's shoulder. "I would worry if it didn't bother you any. When we stop for the day, come to my tent
and I will help you through this. For now, we need to concentrate on the road ahead. We survive first, Rhett. Remember that. Survival first and then we worry about
the everything else." Rahotep
smiled and gave Rhett's shoulder another comforting squeeze when Rhett sat up
straighter in the saddle.
They rode the horses hard that night; harder than
they normally would have. Everyone
wanted to get far away from where the Bwedanii attacked. Rahotep had two of his men and Scarab's
hunter take the lead and scout both for defensible campsites and keep watch for
more Bwedanii.
When at last they did stop for the day, everyone
was so tense that no one really wanted to sleep. Rahotep put one of his men and one of Scarab's men on the
first watch. Then he insisted that
everyone at least try to sleep, but sleep lightly and with their weapons
close. He was determined not to
let the Bwedanii catch them by surprise twice.
Finally, Rahotep was at last ready to settle in
for a bit of rest. Going into his
tent, he found Rhett already inside waiting for him. Rahotep took a seat beside Rhett and took the young
servant's hand. "You did good
today," Rahotep whispered, keeping his voice down so that it wouldn't carry to
the other tents.
Rhett shook his head. "I killed a man today." His eyes brimmed with unwept tears. Understanding that Rhett needed to know
that there was no shame in crying, Rahotep pulled Rhett into his arms and held
the younger man. Rhett broke down,
his sobs at first shaking his whole body like the sobbing of a child. Soon enough, Rahotep's comforting won
through and Rhett slept safe and secure in Rahotep's arms. Rahotep laid Rhett down and lay by the younger
man, stroking his back until he also drifted off to sleep.
*~*~*~*~*
Three more nights of hard riding and Arakh was
chomping at the bit for some action. He'd seen coming to Nubia as a chance to do something that his brother
wouldn't do. Nothing could have
surprised Arakh more than when Lord Scarab had asked him to join the
escort. Now, though, Arakh was
just tired. Everything had settled
into such a predictable routine. Not even the Nubians joining the party had changed things all that much. It just meant that he had to kill more
game.
Dawn's hazy fingers rose up the horizon and the
Egyptians began seeking a place to set up a new camp. Arakh watched as Rahotep rode up to Lord Scarab's side and
began talking. Lord Scarab nodded
and pulled his horse to a stop. "Everyone clean up and make yourselves presentable," he ordered. "I have just been informed that Semna
is merely half an hour away if we push the horses, and I, for one, will not
enter the city coated in half the dust of the desert. Arakh, I trust you will see to it that the escort is a
proper sight."
Arakh bowed his head in acknowledgement of Lord
Scarab's command and dismounted. Once Arakh had cleaned himself and his weapons, he began marching back
and forth among the escort, pointing out every little speck of dust he could
find. Arakh ignored all of the
dirty looks and dark scowls he received in his efforts to justify Lord Scarab's
faith in him. Once everything was
ready, Arakh urged the escort into a parade formation and presented them to
Lord Scarab for inspection.
Lord Scarab barely glanced at the escort, and said,
"It will do." Arakh's jaw dropped
open. He wanted so dearly to ask
Lord Scarab what could possibly be done to improve the appearance of the
escort, but dared not question his superior in this. Instead, he and the rest of the escort mounted their horses
and began riding. Lord Scarab took
the front with Rahotep by his side. Arakh made it a point to stay as close to the vizier as he could.
They crested a dune and gaped at
the huge city sprawled below them. None of the Egyptians had been prepared for anything like this. Rahotep called for attention. "Gentlemen," he said with a beatific
smile. "I have the honor to present
to you Semna, the cradle of Nubia."