II.

Ankhnut woke to the sound of sandals clicking gently on the mortar floor of his bedroom. He woke and turned over on his side, seeing a hulking shape block out the light of the moon through his window.

"Who-" he was abruptly cut off by a smack across his jaw. Ankhnut nearly gave a cry of pain, but was silenced by another blow to his temple and being thrown roughly to the floor, the wind knocked out of him. He was gasping for air when he was roughly hoisted into the air, and out of the darkness came the face of his brother, grotesquely twisted in anger and hate. Ankhnut, by some strange perception, knew his brother was jealous of his younger sibling's sudden fame and that Ankhnut was in for the worst beating of his life. When his brother's hard, but uncoordinated, punches rained down on him, it was all he could do, but cover himself up and hope nothing would be broken when Ammit was done.

"You are a menace to Egypt," Ammit whispered fiercely. "A menace that cannot be allowed to live. Gods damn you! Osiris take your soul to the Underworld and may you rot in hell's darkest reaches."

"You may harm this body!" Ankhnut cried in pain," but you can never harm this soul!"

There were shouts coming from all over the house at Ankhnut's sudden cry. Servants rushing here and there to make sure others were fine, and Sebeket's angry voice coming down the halls toward his room. It was all the distraction Ankhnut needed. With the spirit of the god, Anubis, inside of him, he used the power to throw his brother away from him and send him crashing violently into the opposite wall. Tortures that he could not fathom rang true in his mind as his father stumbled in and voiced a hoarse shout of astonishment.

"Ankhnut!" he yelled running to his youngest son and taking the boy firmly by the shoulders. Torchlight flooded into the room. "Release him! By Amun-Ra and the god, Horus, release your brother!"

Ankhnut complied and let Ammit fall to the floor, a mewling, crying heap. His mother ran to her eldest son, yelling," You are not a son of mine! You are a demon, Ankhnut. A child of hell!"

He met his mother's fearful eyes and nearly winced. His own mother...betraying him. She more than anyone knew that he possessed the power of Anubis inside of him, the very powers of Osiris were within his grasp. His own mother rebuked him, when he could make her the wealthiest woman in all of Thebes. Her wealth could rival that of Pharaoh. He bit his lip and turned to his father. Sebeket was staring blankly at the wall where Ammit had been. He gave a slight sigh and looked down at Ankhnut's anxious face. Then he turned on Ammit.

"What did you think you were doing, you son of an ass!" he shouted angrily." If your brother is damaged in anyway, you will get beaten for this."

"I was doing Egypt a favor," Ammit replied quietly.

"By killing your family's pride!" Sebeket exploded. "You will be thrashed for this! Murder you wish to commit! Murder!"

"You will lay no hands on him," his mother replied angrily

"Quiet, woman," he retorted. He turned back to Ammit. "Your brother is my pride. He will be priest to the Pharaoh of all of Egypt. Go. I wish to see your face no more."

The servants, Ammit and Ankhnut's mother left, returning to their bedrooms. The torchlight faded with the exception of Sebeket's. He stood beside his son in the darkness, their cave of warm torchlight creating a hole in the shadow. The silence about them was interrupted by Sebeket's sigh.

He seemed to do that a lot nowadays.

"Good night, Priest," his father said distractedly. "We'll fix you up tomorrow."

The older man left Ankhnut in the darkness frowning. The boy limped back to bed and slept a very fitful, dream-filled sleep.

III.

A day later, with very little incident between (Ankhnut, thank Osiris and Anubis, had been left unharmed), they arrived at the shining palace of King Seti III as Ra's bright rays descended upon the sands of Egypt, and set the city a fire. The statues of the various gods, gleamed as if in battle-studded armor, their animalistic faces bared in such intense ferocity that Ankhnut wanted to shy away from their greatness. Towers rose up around the market place, laid out at the palace's feet, and domes the color of Ra's holy sun, his vehicle to travel across the skies, sparkled with bright, blinding gleam. The first of bazaar shopkeepers and peddlers emerged, calling out their goods for the day. Ankhnut looked over the side of his father's cart as it rumbled across the cobbled stones. He watched as governesses strolled in with their many servants, picking out the fresh fruits before the desert heat settled over all of Egypt, driving everyone inside.

His stomach shifted queasily, but he smoldered the feelings of nervousness and anxiety.

Those were uncharacteristic of a priest, much less one in the spirit of Anubis. He looked past the faces of his family members, Ammit fuming at being forced to come and his mother scared that he might use his power in the center of all the people assembling for goods and for the acceptance of boys in training for priesthood, and instead towards the direction of the Nile. It was said that if you went to the highest point of the Pharaoh's palace you could see where the Nile fed into an even larger body of water. He hoped he could see that one day. Maybe when he became Egypt's High Priest he could go there as much as he wanted. Ankhnut settled back into the cart and watched as dawn light covered the sky in a brilliant display of colors. He grinned. A beautiful dawn, heralded a beautiful day.

IV.

The selecting began at midday, when the desert's heat poured over Egypt. When people were few in the bazaars except for the hundreds or so servants that ran errands for their masters or walked the dogs and put food out for the cats, there was a endlessly long line of whole families, fathers and mothers and sons, sisters and brothers, all coming to show off the male children, all supposedly born with the spirit of Anubis inside of them. There were noblemen, even slaves, assembled and waiting for their turn. Ankhnut watched in fascination as some families and their male children were carried off and beaten by the Pharaoh's Med-jai and the Temple guards. To his assumption, for falsehood. His assumptions were correct when even a nobleman was made fool of in front of everyone. The people laughed as he rode swiftly away with his crying boy. Ankhnut grinned. Today, all were being treated equally and given a fair chance.

He laid down in the cart. He felt as the cart moved forward, every so often, but that was all. The heat of Ra became even more oppressive as the afternoon wore on. Kesmet, his father mule, bawled loudly in protest, and Ankhnut felt himself getting sleepier and sleepier as boredom set in.

"You will be gone from us, demon-child," he heard Ammit say. "And then the High-Priest will rightly see to your evil."

Ankhnut fixed his brother with a cold, condemning eye that told him if he didn't keep quiet, there was more at stake for him, then his younger brother getting angry. That shut Ammit up. Ankhnut went back to his drowsiness, floating in and out of sleep and wakefulness. He dreamed he was floating in a lake of spilled blood. It covered him and turned him red all over. It was gurgling and swirling, churning and rising to cover his head. He snapped awake quickly and sat up.

It was the end of the afternoon and the start of evening. He heard some relieved sighs around him as palace servants lined the walkway of the people with brightly lit torch-lamps. They blazed warmly as the chill air began to set in. Finally, it was their turn. Pharaoh Seti III sat high upon his throne, a proud and imposing figure, with features only a regal member of the gods mortal bloodline should have. He looked, if he stood, to be a tall man, taller than most in Egypt. And why not? He was after all, the morning and the evening star, with his dark, course beard cut into the traditionality of the Pharaohs and the crown of the Upper and Lower Nile resting atop his head. The Pharaoh's High Priest, Anukaten, was another matter. He was nothing like his king, who held the very air around him captive with his superiority, the High Priest was a gnarled man, with gaunt eyes and hollowed features. He looked pathetic and frail. Ankhnut studied his eyes. His appearance was only an illusion, though. Behind the grizzly look, was a man of quick intelligence and judgment. No the gods had not been kind to him in body, but great Thoth!

They'd been kind to him in mind and spirit!

Ankhnut and his father stepped forward, anxiety coming back to the boy with a vengeance. He refused to bite his lip or shudder. He stood before both powerful men, who could end his life in a blink of an eye, and showed no fear.

"Your name?" asked the scribe with practiced patience, but Ankhnut could see-no, feel-the man's annoyance and boredom. Sebeket told them all the things required, then waited a few feet away as Ankhnut was brought before the Pharaoh and High Priest.

"Arrogant," the Pharaoh said dismissively. He was about to wave his hand to send the boy away. Ankhnut's heart sank. How was he to be a priest now? At the fleck of a wrist the Pharaoh had decided his fate. He had the right to be arrogant, if that was the way the Pharaoh wanted it. He'd had the spirit of Anubis inside of him since he was born and had worked the wonders of Osiris's magick since he learned to walk and breath. He wanted to scream, to protest, to-

"Wait! O' great and wise Pharaoh, ruler over all of Egypt, blessed among mortals and great Morning and Evening Star. Please. Wait," Anukaten said suddenly.

The Pharaoh paused and waited in annoyance. Anukaten beckoned Ankhnut forward. He looked over the boy's body quizzically. He lifted the boy's wrists in his frail hands, moving them from side to side, and up and down. He bent low and checked Ankhnut's legs and ankles. Grunting, he stood upright. Ankhnut grinded his molars into one another. This inspection was pointless. He was perfectly healthy. What was this man after? A mark of disease of some sort?

"Weak ankles and wrists," he speculated loudly. Then, suddenly, his hands moved with a speed Ankhnut never knew a man could possess, pushing the boy. His feet stayed planted firmly in the ground as if he were a tree that grew there, never loosing his balance. Anukaten grinned, a grotesque twisting of lips unaccustomed to such a feat. He nodded and turned to the Pharaoh. Seti nodded and said," Take the boy to the rooms with the others."

Ankhnut turned to his family and to his father. Sebeket looked solemn, but his eyes betrayed him. He said, "Go on, Ankhnut. Go and live your destiny."

The boy nodded, took one last, long look at his father, noting the tired features, the laugh lines around his face and eyes, and the fire of hopes and dreams full-filled in them. How was it possible that he relived the events of his short life in those few seconds? His subsequent birth and acceptance into the world, all wrapped up in a precious few moments, trapped in a suspended time. And the only thing that stood out the most were those eyes. The eyes of a man who had seen much sorrow and waited so very long to see all his dreams come true. Was his second son his dream? Was Ankhnut his hope?

'I will be your hope, Father. I will not give up,'' Ankhnut thought to himself. Then turned and was led a way by the Pharaoh's Med-jai.