The first chariot

Dust spurred high into the air off the back of Taita's chariot, as it buckled its way over the Pharaoh's training ground. Taita sat in the back his eyes wide, his knuckles white as he gripped the side of the chariot, but a huge grin was spread across his handsome features. In front of him stood his father, Pharaoh Nefer Seti, standing tall, his muscular frame encased in beautiful thick golden leaf armour. The chariot whirled around the course at break neck speed with Nefer's two horses, Tove and Kran, speeding ahead of them. It was a strange sensation for Taita, careering around the corners, yet knowing implicitly that they would not crash.

Taita had been told countless times of the Magus after whom he was named. Taita the Warlock had not been seen since the end of the last war, since which the Nile had risen and fallen twelve times. Nefer had told his son about how the Warlock had taken care of Nefer's own grandmother, Taita's beloved Queen Lostris, since she was a child when he was but a humble slave in the house of her father, Lord Intef. The Magus had been last seen walking out into the desert with Nefer's companion Meren, who had run the Red Road with Nefer in the city of Gallala. Completion of the red road so proclaimed Nefer to be the true king, and Meren had later been bestowed with several honours for his bravery in war. Nefer had missed Meren dearly afterwards, and would have probably gone with them, had it not been for Mintaka.

At this very moment, Taita Seti was taking his first steps to possibly running his own red road. The cart slowed and halted outside the stables, where slaves of the Pharaoh took the horses back to the stables. Nefer turned and sat down next to his son who, too slow, wiped the frown from his forehead.
"Are you alright?" Nefer spoke in a soft, concerned tone; he had not seen his son frown in many a time. Taita let out a low sigh and replied hesitantly.
"I was thinking about Taita again." he paused briefly, as if not quite sure he wanted to know the answer to what he was about to ask. At a nod from Pharaoh, he continued reluctantly. "And I was wondering. do you think he is still alive?" Nefer considered the question.
"I have never known how old he was even when I was first brought into this world," he evaded, "but if he was alive now, he would be have seen over two hundred rises of the Nile." Nefer's voice had spoken a little bit doubtfully, and he continue as if to placate this. "Though we can never rule out anything as far as the Old Father is concerned." The finality in his tone told Taita that this subject was not for discussion: obviously Pharaoh still had great affection for the Warlock. Taita quickly changed the subject.
"How old were you when you rode your first chariot?" Nefer's expression changed from one of silent contemplation to the very same grin that often crept over his own son Taita's features.
"I was your age Taita, I had seen fourteen Nile harvests. Not that my father Pharaoh Tamose knew that I had been in one so young." Nefer launched into the story of how the Warlock had shown him how to ride the chariots in the night-time, while all others were asleep save for those two and Meren. Taita could not help but enjoy his father's infectious enthusiasm, and soon he was chuckling along like Nefer. Nefer's laughter faded and he again addressed Taita.
"You know why you are being taught charioteering do you not?"
Taita nodded. "So that I can enter the Taita Trials, the chariot league of Egypt."
"Exactly. Are you prepared to learn?" At an eager nod from Taita, Pharaoh Nefer continued. "The first thing any aspiring charioteer must learn, is how to control their horses. You must gain their trust, and in so doing, learn to respect them equally. Your chariot will go nowhere otherwise. My father once said: "The chariot is only as good as the horseman is kind." And he is right. Here, try with Tove and Kran."
Nefer retreated back to the side of the arena, as Taita cautiously approached the two horses, with some apples in a bag. He approached them slowly, directly from the front so as not to startle them, when he was within a few lengths of the horses, Tove regarded him with her penetratingly innocent blue stare. Reaching into the bag, Taita slowly withdrew an apple, which he gently offered to her. She stretched her neck, gave a small sniff, and once satisfied, she took the apple. This allowed Taita to reach out his other hand and stroke her soft brown mane. After a few minutes, he turned his attention to Kran. This would be harder, the male horse always being more stubborn than the female; Taita would have a time trying to obtain Kran's trust as easily as he had Tove. But he did it. Somehow, he did it. He stared into Kran's eyes unflinchingly, and Kran gazed steadily back. This went on for many minutes, these two very different competitors fighting for mental supremacy. And it was Taita who came out on top. Kran suddenly dropped his gaze, and offered his head forward, which Taita patted softly. He gave Kran another apple, as Tove sat down to rest. Kran soon followed, and then Taita sat between them. He spent the afternoon with the horses, who had instantly grown to trust him, so much so that they almost ducked away from Pharaoh Nefer, when he came to tell Taita that it was time to go back to the palace.