Chapter 20-Yami
When Akira screamed I whipped around, and saw Ryou fall into a puddle of
blood. I knew who bled. Whirling around, I turned to make sure my aibou was
alright. He was scared. He was alone. He was facing one of them.
" Draw a card!" I shouted at him, dodging a fatal beam as I did so.
Hastily, Yugi drew a card out of a deck. " I summon you!" He shouted, hoping it would work. Out came Gaea the Fierce Knight, and fiercer may he be still, if Yugi was to get past whoever was blocking him. I heard wailing, sobbing, and recognized it as Syaoran, who was horrified, trying to get into the area of battle but was held back by the one who blamed him. Growling, I dodged another one. There were three against me. Do I stand a chance?
Briefly, everything stopped for a minute as I paused to think. I am immortal. I'm pretty much dead. As an experiment I let one hit my arm. Ouch. That hurt, but other than that, there's not much else.
The immortals appeared to be intimidated by my performance, and hesitated for a moment. Before I knew it I had my puzzle out. Under my breath I chanted a spell in the ancient Egyptian language.
Bad move. The earth began to rock very hard. Something came at the back of my head. I felt great pain. And for a while I thought, well, I can't exactly die, but I can fai-
" My lord, my greatest apologies," The guard said nervously, " But we caught
a...stranger sneaking in the palace grounds."
" I have no time for this nonsense." I was impatient. I was busy. Don't the guards
have eyes?
" My greatest apologies." The guard repeated nervously again, " What is to be
done with him?"
" Let go of me!" I heard, and then appeared a child, all golden with his amber
eyes. " You bastards! Let go!"
Cocking an eyebrow, I stare at the boy.
" Are you telling me that this is what made you disturb me?" I asked coldly.
The boy hissed at me and spat, the lowly peasant. " You bastard." He growled, then lunged, but the guards held him back.
I can deal with verbal insults, but not physical ones, and I was in a bad mood.
" He seems to be quite strong." I said to the guard. " Take him to the slave chambers."
" My lord, I report a scandal from one of the nobles in the western area. They are
paying thieves and robbers to steal from the pyramids."
" Do you know any names?"
" Yes, my lord. Lord Reshnakt is the noble, and that is the reason he is not here
today. He is paying the thieves two hundred golden pieces for each steal. The
thieves are Krishna, Senenmut, and Ramnut, and the others we cannot identify."
" I order you to capture Reshnakt." I said impatiently. " And retrieve the stolen
goods."
" So?" Asked a voice outside the throne, very loud and very clear. The nobles
stilled, the scribes stopped writing.
" I really dare you. Come on, kid! Be a man! Pharoah's not going to find out."
" First of all, I'm not a man yet, and I don't intend to be one for a long time."
Said the first voice. " Second, the Pharoah's having a meeting with the nobles at
this hour, and we're outside it!"
A hushed silence followed, then a shuffle of feet. Sweet laughter rang out, as
footsteps departed.
" What do you suppose the slaves were planning?" Asked a noble.
" Whatever it is," I said slowly, " They decided not to do it."
But I was wondering what the voice meant. ' I don't intend to be one for a long time...'
" Let go of me!" I heard outside my chambers. Listening closely, halting my work,
I heard a voice, a rather familiar one, speaking.
" Punk! Slave! Don't you dare get in my way again!" There was a sound of a
blow, and a body falling to the floor.
" I may be a slave, but I'm certainly not the punk here!"
" It's time someone taught you some manners!"
" Enough!" I had opened the door. There was a silence. There was the son of the
scribe. And the new slave looked in my direction. The son of the noble paled,
bowing.
" My lord."
The slave didn't say anything, just stared at me for a moment, then, satisfied
that I wouldn't do anything to him, left the hallway.
" Son of Risha." I addressed. " I suggest you do not punish what is not yours."
And that was all it took for him to never bully anyone again.
As soon as the child left I went to the slave quarters.
" Slaveboy!" I called, having no better name. A couple of slaves turned, including
the one I was looking for. He stared at me with doubt and apprehension.
Beckoning to him, I led him out to the gardens. He was reluctant, but my
will must be obeyed, in any case.
" I certainly have never seen a slave so strong willed before, my lad." I said
gently. " And strong willed without being offensive."
" That is about to end." Said the child. " I am no slave."
Stopping abruptly, I looked at him. " Then what do you call a slave?"
" A slave is one who is souless and heartless, with no mind of his own." The child
answered. " One who blindly obeys with or without his will, for he has none left.
That I am not. I do not belong to anyone. I belong to myself."
Not knowing whether to be amused or angry, I nodded, walking on, thinking over his words.
" The world is not fair." I said to him. " You must see, my boy."
" Do you know who you are?' He suddenly asked me. And of course, I laughed at
the question.
' I am Bel um Fel, of course! The Pharoah of the Egyptian Lands! The Living
Horus! Of course I know who I am!'
But my answer did not seem to satisfy him. ' Are you only the Pharoah and the Living Horus?' It was so bold I was surprised. " Are you only the ruler of Egypt, my lord?'
I was surprised, and also amused. ' Then what are you, my young child? What
have you to speak this way to the one who rules you?'
' I am one of those who made you Pharoah, my lord.' He answered, almost
timidly. ' If those like myself do not exist, you would not be pharoah.'
' What right do you have to be proud of yourself, my child?' I asked. " What
brings you such honor?'
' I know who I am.' He answered very quietly. ' I know who I am and who I was. I
will not forget myself. And because I know who I am I know that you are not
Horus, living or no. You could have been in my stead should fate have twisted the
loom.'
I looked at him for a while and he stared back. I looked deep into those eyes and I realized that those eyes revealed so much to me, but I cannot understand...
" Oh! You mean that boy, Tarkot?" The maid bustled about her work. " Nice lad,
ay, very nice. Didn't mean no harm what he said, only ten years old, my lord.
Doesn't understand a thing about slavery, aye. Father's executed of murder seven
years ago. Pity! The poor child suffered deeply from it. Later, the plague wiped
out virtually everyone he knows! That's why he came here in the first place. Says
he doesn't come from around here, somewhere over the northeast, aye!"
" His name is..."
" Tarkot. Never knew what his last name is, he didn't know neither. Father's stolen
something from the tombs, I'll reckon. The Pharoah put him to death. Child
witnessed it-bad, bad thing! Must have traumatized him greatly. He never did like
the rich afterwards."
I nodded. " Thank you. Where is he?"
" Oh, outside with the other slaves."
" Can you bring him here?"
" Of course, my lord." The maid bowed. She exited. I sat down, musing for a
while. My father had killed a man who looked a little like Tarkot. I was how many
years old? Eight? But I knew that man. I turned to my work. So many documents I
need to look over, scandals, wills, orders and commands. Sighing, I picked up one.
" You sent for me, my lord?" I heard a voice. Turning around, I looked at him.
Then I felt puzzled. Why did I send for him?
I saw his eyes staring at the papyrus in my hands. He was obviously squinting for a better look, not knowing he wasn't really allowed to. But he was ten years old.
I shuddered slightly. Ten years old is still a child. By Ra, and he has already suffered so much.
" Do you know how to read, Tarkot?" I asked.
Starting at the name, at first the child didn't know how to respond. Then,
warily, he shook his head. No, he did not know how.
" Come here." I beckoned. Hesitantly, he obeyed. Taking out a new papyrus, I
wrote down several letters.
" What is that?" He asked.
" This is your name, Tarkot." I answered. " Come. Let me show you."
The boy picked up quickly. Pretty soon he knew how to write his name,
several adjectives and nouns. Smiling and for some reason proud, I let him stop.
He didn't really want to, but when he looked at me he suddenly seemed to
remember something, and blushed a deep red.
" I'm sorry." He muttered.
" There's nothing to be sorry about." I told him gently. The documents can wait a
bit longer. " You're ten years old. You should learn to write. Especially someone
as smart as you are."
This earned me a blush from him. Lowering his eyes timidly, He shifted, not
knowing what to do.
" You can go now." I said gently. He nodded, then left, a little shaky.
" Really my lord, I do not think it would be wise to teach a slave!" The High
Priest protested as I walked down the hallway to my chambers. " He could attempt
to escape at that, and who knows, plot against you?"
" Something tells me he won't. Have you ever looked to him?" I asked. " After all,
he could be a child sent from the Field of Reeds. He may even be a son of a god."
" What makes you think that, my lord?"
" Well," I paused. " If you ever looked into his eyes," I said finally, " You'll
know."
" That's..." The high priest stumbled over his words and sighed. " But my lord, you
have an empire to take care of-why waste time on a little boy?"
" If you haven't noticed," I began, " He is not a waste of time. I owe him some for
the execution of his father."
" You owe to a slave?" The priest was bewildered. " But he is...a slave!"
" Not until recently." I answered. " Now, go you to your quarters."
" But my lord, you aren't going to teach that child again!"
" What I do in my spare time is of my concern." I answered sternly. " Go you now.
I am impatient."
The young child was of great interest to many, and since I had taken him as
my student many people pressed him with questions. He came to the room a little
grumpily but still cautious. I let him sit down, careful not to make him think I was
cranky as well. I found out very well that he was sensitive.
Before we could begin, the child's strange eyes caught hold of something he shouldn't. It was actually my fault, I should have put it away. Before either of us could stop him, he reached out and touched the deck.
Blinking in confusion, he withdrew his hand, and stared at me, then at the
deck. I blinked as well.
" Do you know what the Shadow Games are?" I asked. He shook his head.
And I began explaining every rule to him.
" Very good." I was impressed. I was playing lightly, but the child caught the tips
fast. Putting our decks away, his the half of mine, I smiled in approval.
" Did you like it?" I asked.
" Kind of." Tarkot answered. " I don't think it's interesting though."
Oh well, he was a slave, after all. And slaves are supposedly not intellectuals.
" My lord!" The High Priest came to my side. " I bring exciting news. We've
identified the little one."
" Tarkot?" I asked.
" Yes!" The High Priest, for once, seemed very anxious. " Come, my lord! Let us
show you. Here," We reached the chamber, in which there was a stone bowl filled
with water and powder, bottles of herbs and powder, and a large book.
" Tarkot is no son of a god, my lord," He said to me, " But he does possess
magical powers, not that of ours, but of another kind. The gods say that he is able
to wield the elements, and his magic is called White Magic. My lord, give me
leave to ask, I would like to have him as my apprentice, perhaps, to teach him our
craft-"
" Stop." I silenced him. " If it is as you say," I looked into the bowl of water. " If
it is as you say, then you cannot teach him. We weild the same forces of magic. He
weilds different ones. You cannot help him."
The priest's face fell noticeably, but I did not care. No one is going to steal my slave away.
" Enough. It is good that you have found this much about him so far. I must return to the meeting."
