MESSIAH
PROLOGUE
The last echoes of sunlight had long since passed the plains of Sheehad, when the small tribe of Li' settled for the night. Rain spattered about their feet, thunder rolled its might in the brawl in the sky as the scene below was illuminated by a lightening crack.
The eldest tribe member Li, after whom the tribe was named, had been marching the group hard. He had already lost enough people to the ferocious rebel tribes, and he didn't plan on losing more. There were no fires, for fires would have given away their position if Mersha were around. The small camp was pitched on top of a small incline, the only one for miles around. Li reasoned with those who spoke Egyptian that they would spot anyone else from here before they were spotted. He was to be proved fatally wrong.
The rain increased its foray on the small camp, drumming through the already sodden rags kept by the tribe members. A baby lay fast asleep, his mother bent over, shielding him from the howling wind and rain, as small children hugged their knees in a futile attempt to keep warm. Li' himself sat with both his eyes closed, a pained expression scrawled across his face. The arrow in his back, still hidden from the rest of the tribe caused him to slide onto his now blood-spattered side, his head lolling backwards awkwardly.
Mersha had struck again. Being the best assassin of the Fu'ite clans of southern Egypt had brought him here, and he was close to a kill he desired above all others, that of Li' and his tribe. Mersha gave a small laugh, absent-mindedly squashing a scorpion into a red-black blotch on the sandy plain ground. He quickly decided that without Li', he could now resort to fire, opening up the view for a kill. Circling out to the left, Mersha loosed off a lit arrow into the camp.
It was a massacre. With sight as his newly gained advantage, Mersha swept through the tribe like a merciless wave, arrows zipping here and there, and poor tribesmen, women and children cut down in their droves.
A strange silence came over the scene. As Mersha fired here and there, on all the men who were standing, a strange glow lit up the camp. Mersha tried to make out what it was; he thought he had killed the last of the Fu'ites. He could hear footsteps, and had he been less perturbed, he may have realised that the footsteps didn't sound like those through wet mud and sand, as the conditions were. Mersha ran towards the light, which seemed to grow more and more faint as he chased. The light stopped ahead of Mersha, who, in his frantic fear trying to destroy this nameless pursuant, had not checked his surroundings. Slowly he realised what had happened, but far too late. The quicksand ended him before he could let out a scream.
The glow glided over the landscape back towards the scene of the battle. A woman was moaning in agony, and a single baby was crying in her arms. The last of the Fu'ites. The woman could see a pair of feet in front of her, and looking up, tried to make out a face, but the brilliant shining white in front of her was too strong, and she turned away. She held her baby up above her head, and spoke, with a lot of effort in Egyptian.
"Please, please take my son Jian. Please. take. Jian." her voice broke off, and her laboured breathing slowed, and ended. A pair of hands reached down, to pick up Jian, and his crying ceased immediately. A kindly voice spoke.
"Come Jian. We have work to do."
*
In Thebes, a momentous event was taking place at this time.
Queen Mintaka turned to her husband Pharaoh Nefer Seti, her face flushed, her chest heaving but a triumphant smile on her face. Nefer held the new born baby in his arms, and gave a loving smile in return. Carrying the baby gently, he walked out of the room and onto a small balcony to a roar from the huge throng of people below. The Pharaoh held the baby firmly in his arms, and as he carefully lifted him to head height, he spoke softly to the baby.
"Meet your future subjects, future Pharaoh Taita Seti." The boy's face broke into a friendly smile, and Nefer hugged him to himself, and carried him back to Mintaka.
The last echoes of sunlight had long since passed the plains of Sheehad, when the small tribe of Li' settled for the night. Rain spattered about their feet, thunder rolled its might in the brawl in the sky as the scene below was illuminated by a lightening crack.
The eldest tribe member Li, after whom the tribe was named, had been marching the group hard. He had already lost enough people to the ferocious rebel tribes, and he didn't plan on losing more. There were no fires, for fires would have given away their position if Mersha were around. The small camp was pitched on top of a small incline, the only one for miles around. Li reasoned with those who spoke Egyptian that they would spot anyone else from here before they were spotted. He was to be proved fatally wrong.
The rain increased its foray on the small camp, drumming through the already sodden rags kept by the tribe members. A baby lay fast asleep, his mother bent over, shielding him from the howling wind and rain, as small children hugged their knees in a futile attempt to keep warm. Li' himself sat with both his eyes closed, a pained expression scrawled across his face. The arrow in his back, still hidden from the rest of the tribe caused him to slide onto his now blood-spattered side, his head lolling backwards awkwardly.
Mersha had struck again. Being the best assassin of the Fu'ite clans of southern Egypt had brought him here, and he was close to a kill he desired above all others, that of Li' and his tribe. Mersha gave a small laugh, absent-mindedly squashing a scorpion into a red-black blotch on the sandy plain ground. He quickly decided that without Li', he could now resort to fire, opening up the view for a kill. Circling out to the left, Mersha loosed off a lit arrow into the camp.
It was a massacre. With sight as his newly gained advantage, Mersha swept through the tribe like a merciless wave, arrows zipping here and there, and poor tribesmen, women and children cut down in their droves.
A strange silence came over the scene. As Mersha fired here and there, on all the men who were standing, a strange glow lit up the camp. Mersha tried to make out what it was; he thought he had killed the last of the Fu'ites. He could hear footsteps, and had he been less perturbed, he may have realised that the footsteps didn't sound like those through wet mud and sand, as the conditions were. Mersha ran towards the light, which seemed to grow more and more faint as he chased. The light stopped ahead of Mersha, who, in his frantic fear trying to destroy this nameless pursuant, had not checked his surroundings. Slowly he realised what had happened, but far too late. The quicksand ended him before he could let out a scream.
The glow glided over the landscape back towards the scene of the battle. A woman was moaning in agony, and a single baby was crying in her arms. The last of the Fu'ites. The woman could see a pair of feet in front of her, and looking up, tried to make out a face, but the brilliant shining white in front of her was too strong, and she turned away. She held her baby up above her head, and spoke, with a lot of effort in Egyptian.
"Please, please take my son Jian. Please. take. Jian." her voice broke off, and her laboured breathing slowed, and ended. A pair of hands reached down, to pick up Jian, and his crying ceased immediately. A kindly voice spoke.
"Come Jian. We have work to do."
*
In Thebes, a momentous event was taking place at this time.
Queen Mintaka turned to her husband Pharaoh Nefer Seti, her face flushed, her chest heaving but a triumphant smile on her face. Nefer held the new born baby in his arms, and gave a loving smile in return. Carrying the baby gently, he walked out of the room and onto a small balcony to a roar from the huge throng of people below. The Pharaoh held the baby firmly in his arms, and as he carefully lifted him to head height, he spoke softly to the baby.
"Meet your future subjects, future Pharaoh Taita Seti." The boy's face broke into a friendly smile, and Nefer hugged him to himself, and carried him back to Mintaka.
