Notes: 1) The biblical cities of Sodom and Gomorrah were situated somewhere in Canaan--and indeed, a pair of ash-layered sites have been declared to be the sister cities by eager archeologists. But for the purposes of my story, Sodom and Gomorrah are somewhere between Abu Simbel and Thebes. With all the historical license taken by the movie (chain mail and crossbows being the least of its worries) geographical sleight-of-hand shouldn't be too great a stretch. 2) Because the Nile flows south to north, Upper Egypt is south of Lower Egypt.

VI. Ascendance

The Nile flooded and fell back and flooded again. The city of the dead came slowly together, stone by massive stone. Mathayus' borders expanded through Upper Egypt as his people farmed north into the fertile Black Land and south to the edge of Balthazar's kingdom. Farther north, bordering Lower Egypt, the priest-king at Ineb-Hedj sent gifts of gold and concubines, while south of Nubia, Anakronos of Ethiopia sent a mail-clad envoy guarded by six men with spears and crossbows.

Then the news came in from Abydos: The lord of that city had massacred farmers and families living under King Mathayus' banner, raping and looting, burning undefended villages to the ground.

"He wishes to test you, my king," Goshur, the captain of the red guard, said over a map of the region. "Perhaps he wishes to draw you out of your kingdom."

Mathayus gave the man a hard stare. "Perhaps he thinks I will not fight him," he growled.

Cassandra stepped forward, frowning delicately. "If you were to go yourself, my lord, it would not end well for you. Or for Gomorrah."

The king's gaze dropped to the map, and he shifted a troop marker a finger length north. Then another marker, and a third.

The guardsman nodded. "Yes. From there, we can trap his forces against the curve of the river. But what of our southern border?"

"Nubia shields us to the south. The only danger there would be from bandits."

The two men looked to Cassandra, who gave grim consent.

"Lay siege to Abydos," the king continued. "When it falls, take three of your best men, find this lord--and bring me his head."

When Goshur was gone, Cassandra asked nervously, "And what of Ethiopia?"

Mathayus grimaced. "Ethiopia is a problem that will require a delicate solution. But if all else fails, Anakronos must still go through Balthazar to get to me." Then a smile softened his features, and he drew Cassandra into a close embrace. "Enough of war. I have happier things to attend to."

* * *

It was an hour before dawn when they came for him, before Menes was even awake.

All he felt were strong hands gripping his arms and legs, and then a cloth sack was yanked over his head. But he never cried out, he never gave a sign of the terror fluttering in his heart like a trapped bird. Nor did his captors utter a word as they bound his wrists and elbows behind him.

He heard footsteps--three sets? four?--as they hauled him down too many corridors to remember. Then he smelled dust, manure, and the morning dew, and he knew he was out of the palace. Still no one said a word, though Menes could hear a few shocked gasps and whispers from early risers in the streets.

He was thrown like a sack of grain onto a hard surface. A whip cracked somewhere in front of him, and wagon wheels creaked and began to roll. Shutting his eyes tight--all he could see was the inside of the burlap sack, anyway--Menes bit his lip against the prick of tears and wished for Mathayus.

The groan of enormous gates told him they were leaving Gomorrah. His skin rose in goosebumps, though he knew he'd be roasting under the sun before his captors were done with him. With escape impossible, with nowhere to run in the wilds between the sister cities even if he did manage to get free, Menes finally fell into an uneasy sleep.

He dreamt he'd been thrown into a furnace. He awoke sweating and gasping in the heat of the day, but no one removed the heavy bag from his face, and no one offered him anything to drink, though he could hear the slosh of a wineskin nearby.

Somewhere ahead, Menes could hear voices--not one or two, but hundreds of voices; laughing, talking, chanting, arguing voices. The motley odors of a city met his nostrils, and he sat up as best he could with his arms still bound. He would not enter Sodom like a thief brought in for a bounty.

The midday streets sounded packed; the scents of bread, meat, and beer made his stomach rumble. Then the wagon passed under the shadow of an inner gate, into the eerie calm that Menes knew to be a temple. His captors delivered him into smaller, softer hands.

Delicate whispers guided him to a cool room, where a bowl of water was pressed to his dry mouth. He drank until he was sated. Then his clothes were cut from his body. Menes gritted his teeth to keep them from chattering. The sack was removed, but quickly replaced by a binding wrap over his eyes. It didn't matter, though; he knew that to open his eyes now would be to shame himself.

His skin was washed and his hair clipped, braided, and brushed with scented oil, and then Menes' narrow waist was girded with a simple homespun kilt.

The hands led him down a silent hallway into a chamber that echoed with his footsteps.

"Has he been bathed and anointed?" It was Mathayus' voice, and Menes couldn't help the smile that sprang up.

"Yes, my lord." A woman's voice, perhaps one of the priestesses who had washed him.

"Did he make any outcry when he was taken?"

"No, my lord." A man's voice this time, presumably one of his captors. "He neither called for help nor fought."

"I'm surprised, Menes," the king said, and the blindfold was suddenly whipped away. They were in one of the inner chambers of the Temple of Horus, and King Mathayus stood before him, blindfold hanging from one hand. "I expected my men to be bloodied and broken after taking you. Tooth marks, at the very least."

Menes flushed, but Mathayus grinned, then motioned someone forward. "Dress him."

Two shaven-headed priests came to either side of Menes and removed the rough, colorless wrap from his waist, replacing it with one of fine white linen. They helped him into a pair of sandals, then passed a small bundle of cloth to the king.

Mathayus unwrapped it to reveal a gleaming gold chain, from which dangled an amulet in the shape of a scorpion. He knelt down, fastened the chain around Menes' neck, and kissed his forehead. "You're my son now, Menes. You're my heir. When I'm gone, my throne will pass to you."