IV. Blood of the Scorpion
Cassandra found Philos in his old chambers, looking over his inventions like a father watching his sleeping children. When she entered, he turned with a smile and held out his hands. As usual, he was a mess, as if he'd slept in his clothes and not bothered with such mundane things as grooming.
She ran into his embrace. "What's happening to him, Philos?" She buried her face in his shoulder, hiding her tears. "He once told me that he made his own destiny--but now he's pinning his kingship on a prophecy? Nothing good will come of this." She gasped as the vision overcame her again. "Blood--the Nile itself has turned to blood!"
"Oh, my dear Cassandra. It has always been your gift to see the worst possible outcomes for those you care the most about."
"It's not a gift, it's a curse!" she protested.
The old man stroked her hair, patting her fondly and rocking her. Then, absurdly, he chuckled. "It could be worse, you know. What if no one took you seriously?"
The sorceress looked up at her old friend and gave a hesitant laugh. "Then we would never have come this far, would we?"
Philos' eyes twinkled. "No, we'd have both been getting a little too close to the executioner for comfort." He winked and said, "Now come, let me show you my latest--"
The distinctive clash of blade on blade, muffled by layers of stone, interrupted him. Somewhere below them in the palace, someone was fighting for his life.
The sorceress gave her old friend a desperate look. "Oh, no..."
* * *
Thomid had charged him, sword held high like a banner, and Mathayus could have taken him, the way the boy left himself open, but he'd knocked Thomid's blade to one side instead, shoving him back with a shoulder lunge and circling around to try and pin the boy into the corner. He was king, after all, not a killer of children.
Shifting his grip low, Thomid came at Mathayus again. The king parried to his right. He backed away a second time, but now he didn't bother waiting for the boy's next attack.
One swift skip-step brought him within striking reach. Thomid gave a wordless cry of challenge. But Mathayus was undaunted by the boy's senseless anger. He used his height advantage to bring his scimitar sweeping down. Blocking high, Thomid bent under the force of the king's blow and somersaulted back towards the corner. A furious kick to the king's solar plexus. Mathayus found himself stumbling back onto the blood-slick floor behind him and went down hard.
His vision swimming with sparks, the king struck out blindly--and felt his blade connect with something other than steel.
He scrambled to his feet, gasping and shaking the stars from his head. He was covered in blood, but none of it was his own. It was the blood of the traitors he'd executed. The blood of the boy sprawled on the floor, still kicking. The king's blind strike had caught Thomid in the midsection, nearly bisecting the boy.
Thomid stared up at him, eyes gaping in shock and pain. His fingers clutched at the stone floor involuntarily. "I will... I will curse your name to... to the gods... Scorpion King."
The reflexive kicking finally stopped.
Mathayus wanted to sit down. He wanted to ride out to the valley of his ancestors and bury himself in the burning sand. He wanted to kill something; but he'd done enough of that to last a lifetime.
"My lord?" the guard captain asked, his grizzled expression as unfazed as ever.
Mathayus gestured with a bloody hand at the corpses, scattering crimson droplets over half the floor. "Burn the traitors' bodies. Give the boy... Give the boy an honorable burial."
I am a king, not a killer of children. But some part of his mind whispered back, To rule is to kill.
* * *
Balthazar frowned at the raggedy, panting runner, then sent the man away. He ducked into his pavilion and sank to his considerable haunches. Isis followed him in, her face gaunt with worry.
The warrior king gazed silently for a moment up at his wife. "Find the boy. And gather up my finest warriors. Nubia needs to send a message to the Scorpion King."