Once they were out in the sunlight, the young priest-in-training turned to
Bakura. He explained that his name was Seto, and that he was being trained
for the position of high priest.
".You are a thief, are you not?" Seto asked bluntly after introducing himself.
Bakura blinked. "Um. yes?"
"I thought so." Seto looked satisfied. "Then I want you to steal something for me. You do owe me, after all."
Bakura stared. "Um, I don't think you get it. I'm a *thief*. T. um, t-h." He frowned. Most Egyptians were not literate, and certainly thieves were no exception. "Well. a thief. Yeah," he continued. "Meaning, I don't care if I owe you anything. I don't care how royal you are. I don't- um." The last syllable was owing to the fact that Seto had pinned him against the wall and was holding a knife to his throat.
"Listen," hissed Seto. "An uncle of mine died recently. He owned a small golden statue of Osiris that I've had my eye on for some time. Now that he's gone, they've put it in a temple. That temple is just over this wall. Get it for me, and I will let you live."
Bakura gulped, but tried his best to look nonchalant (a hard thing to do when a 12-yr-old priest is threatening you with a knife). "Um. all-righty then," he managed. "I'll, um, just be on my thieving little way now." Seto silently removed the knife, and Bakura hastily scrambled up and over the wall.
".You are a thief, are you not?" Seto asked bluntly after introducing himself.
Bakura blinked. "Um. yes?"
"I thought so." Seto looked satisfied. "Then I want you to steal something for me. You do owe me, after all."
Bakura stared. "Um, I don't think you get it. I'm a *thief*. T. um, t-h." He frowned. Most Egyptians were not literate, and certainly thieves were no exception. "Well. a thief. Yeah," he continued. "Meaning, I don't care if I owe you anything. I don't care how royal you are. I don't- um." The last syllable was owing to the fact that Seto had pinned him against the wall and was holding a knife to his throat.
"Listen," hissed Seto. "An uncle of mine died recently. He owned a small golden statue of Osiris that I've had my eye on for some time. Now that he's gone, they've put it in a temple. That temple is just over this wall. Get it for me, and I will let you live."
Bakura gulped, but tried his best to look nonchalant (a hard thing to do when a 12-yr-old priest is threatening you with a knife). "Um. all-righty then," he managed. "I'll, um, just be on my thieving little way now." Seto silently removed the knife, and Bakura hastily scrambled up and over the wall.