Explanation of the Chapter:
-The kingdom of Ma (abbreviation in Ancient Egyptian of Meshwesh) is the ancient name given to Libya. At the time, it was only a small confederation of several Berber tribes. However, their king is totally fictional.
-(*) Cyanide is a very powerful poison if consumed. It is further described as having a sweet almond aftertaste.
Despite the cheering of the crowd, Atem put a knee down, short-winded. Gladiator sword in hand, its tip planted in the ground to help him get up, he lifted himself in a final effort, fine droplets of sweat sliding along his forehead to crash into the space between the hollow of his shoulder and his neck.
The sound of a cymbal resonated in a deafening echo, and he tightened his grip on the weapon as he rushed forward. The two blades clashed forcefully in a shower of metal sparks, all accompanied by a shrill sound.
At each of his inspirations, a new blow was carried, always faster, always more powerful, before the enemy retreated, leaving him barely enough time to take a regular breath back.
The shouting around him was becoming frenzied and he gave a faint smile without any real apparent joy. Raise your head, look proud, be invincible. His father's words kept ringing in his mind, making him dizzy as he tried to show himself worthy of them.
A new volley of blows assaulted him and the sword flew up into the air under his surprised gaze, falling down a few metres behind him.
Reacting instinctively, the Pharaoh escaped from his opponent's salvos with a roll on the side, hitting his back with the help of his foot and recovering at the same time the sabre that the dark-skinned man lost in his fall.
Wiping the trickle of blood that coloured his lips with an enraged gesture, the latter narrowed his blue ocean eyes, the dazzling sun blocking his eyesight, and groping behind him, he reclaimed the weapon of the sovereign, attacking him at the second his fingers touched the grip.
Atem arched, blocking the blade with the curved outline of his own, turning around himself to send the enemy away, catch in his own momentum.
Once more, the ovations resonated, more thunderous, and he stood still in a defensive position, his hands clammy, his head throbbing at the rhythm of his heartbeats.
The light-haired man approached slowly, dominating him to his full height, casting a veil of shadow above him that made him shudder.
A predatory smile stretched the contours of his dark beard, revealing a precarious dentition, and the young king forced himself to stare at his gladiator sword in his opponent's hands for fear that this vision would make him nauseous.
Anew, he took a deep breath, before attacking, the sound of the metal striking against each other resonating in the air again.
Eventually, the man wore himself out in making his weapon swing here and there to try to touch the sovereign, and the mouth of this one twisted into a mocking grin.
Mowing down the sword, he sends the pommel of his sabre in the protruding ribs of the enemy, forcing the latter to bend under the pain while the Pharaoh took the opportunity to send, with all that was left of his force, his elbow between his two eyes, a sound of broken bone reaching his ears despite the hubbub of the delirious crowd.
A scream of agony sounded and his opponent collapsed to the ground, holding his bloody face in his dirty hands.
The sound of the cymbal tinkled for the second time, and his trembling fingers let out the sabre that had become too heavy, his body engulfed with spasms as he tried to catch his breath back, in vain.
The audience members in front of him rose from their seats, exclaiming with excitement, and a group of very distinct people detached themselves more and more clearly from them, joining him in the centre of the arena.
"Bravo! Bravo! What a fight! I'm dumbfounded by your warrior skills, Great One! "
Unable to answer, his throat dry and his breathing still panting, the sovereign just briefly nodded, watching his interlocutor suspiciously.
"Well, it was a real clash of the Titans. Your champion knew how to give a hard time to our Pharaoh, who is yet the best of our fighters. "
Seth's words made him gnash his teeth under the annoyance, and he gave his cousin a furtive look, silently intimating him to shut up.
"It was a good distraction. Should we have something to eat now? "
A distraction!?
Pursing his lips, Atem curbed his desire to take back the sword which was resting on the ground to thrust it into the stomach of the person facing him, preferring to let him disappear into the palace with his priests, the acclamations of the crowd, mainly composed of the nobles of the court, suddenly decreasing as it began to disperse, following the footsteps of the wearers of the millennial items and their guests.
Sighing, the young king was prepared to do the same when a face suddenly appeared before him, two hands handing him a cotton cloth, a small smile stretching his pink lips.
"Heba... "
"Congratulations on your victory. Are you all right? "
The boy's warm, worry-filled voice made him smile, and grabbing the cloth to pass it against his sweaty, naked torso, he answered confidently:
"Yes, don't worry about me. I'm used to this kind of stupid show of force. "
"Is it why you wanted to fight yourself rather than letting the place to one of the soldiers of the royal guard? "
"Although I have proved my worth to my people, I'm still young for the other lands. A king, weak, ignorant, and inexperienced... So I also have to prove my worth to others too. To avoid conflicts, wars, or power struggles... "
"And I, who didn't stop complaining when my mother mollycoddled me too much... "
Bursting with laughter, Atem ran a hand through the multicoloured highlights of his double, dishevelling them with amusement.
"Having said that, I will refrain well from proving anything to this fool of Hussein. "
"Don't you like the King of Ma? "
"He plays the great lords here, but he's just a cruel despot who wriggles like a suffocating fish out of water when he gets upset. "
The comparison caused a mocking chuckle to the teenager that he shared joyfully, the temporary enthusiasm of this moment allowing him to wane the pressure.
"Let's go. I still have to make a change of clothing. "
"Yes. "
##########
Dressed in a short sapphire blue tunic with golden ends, a Shendyt of the same colour fitting snugly his waist, and an amaranth cloak covering his shoulders, Atem slumped slightly in his seat, mechanically fixing the oriental dancers wriggling in front of his eyes and those of his guests.
Undulating with the rhythm of the music, the lute and the lyre resonating in harmony with the sistrum, the flutes, the drums and the harp, they swirled around the table with agility.
Large silver bracelets on their wrists that clinked every time their fingers drew imaginary circles in the air, and large gemstones necklaces hopping around their necks, they wore turquoise robes composed of a half-open skirt on the side, revealing the ivory skin of their legs at each of their movements. Linked to the latter by a simple mesh of Lycra with motifs of gold and carmine reed leaves, their bras offered a clear view of the neckline of their breasts.
A show that the King of Ma seemed to particularly like, remarked the Pharaoh without being really surprised. A big smile stuck on his face, he was clapping in his hands at the sound of the clappers and tambourines that resonating in the banquet hall, shamelessly admiring the curves of the young women, with jet-black hair and kohl painted eyelids, moving a little too close to him.
Sighing tiredly, the young king grabbed his glass of wine, soaking his lips in the burgundy liquid for a few seconds before suddenly spitting out the contents, the music suddenly stopping under his repeated suffocations while the people seated at the table turned a surprised look towards him.
"What is it about?! " cried Hussein with irritation, seeming annoyed at having been disturbed during his "contemplation".
"Majesty!? " Mahad said, a hint of worry in his voice, getting up hurriedly.
Coughing still a little while straightening up, the sovereign held out a hand towards the magician, summoning him to sit down while he, himself was standing up, disappearing towards the back of the room and whispering:
"Excuse me for a moment. "
Sinking into the main hallway, Atem suddenly stopped at the threshold of an antechamber, holding onto the wall to his left, his nails contracting on the cold stone.
"What's going on? "
Raising his head, his purple pupils clinging to the cobalt ones of his sacred guardian, the Pharaoh frowned before moving his gaze to the banquet hall, murmuring softly:
"Was there a specific reason for the coming of King Hussein, Shada? "
"It seems to me that this was just a courtesy call. Why this question, O Pharaoh? " replied the priest, intrigued.
"And the wine? This is well a present from him, right? " continued the young king.
"Indeed. Do you suspect His Highness of any wrong intentions? " asked the bearer of the millennium key, understanding the thought process of the sovereign, as well as his previous reaction at the table.
"I don't know. But I noticed that the jar with which I was served was different from the other guests. And there was something like an almond aftertaste when I took a sip (*). "
Frowning in his turn, Shada suddenly stiffened, crossing his arms over his chest.
"I did not feel anything like it in mine. Should we ask the guard to arrest him? " he questioned, though he already seemed to know what was going to be said to him.
"Without proofs? No... I do not want to risk a diplomatic incident if I'm wrong. " declared Atem, closing his eyes, sighing slowly.
"Your Majesty has been instructed since childhood to recognise all the forms of poisons of this world. I doubt that your instinct deceives you so easily. " Shada pleaded kindly. "However, if anything had happened to you, I'm surprised that the millennium necklace has not warned Isis before. "
"Nothing is flawless, Shada. For the moment, let's that aside. If ever other events come to confirm my suspicions, then we will intervene. "
"As you like. "
"Go, I'll join you right away. "
"Very well. "
Striding away while leaving the Pharaoh behind him, Shada left the dark corridor to return to the illuminated room, resuming his place around the banquet table.
Unable to stop himself, he grabbed his own cup of wine, twirling the blood-red liquid inside, carefully examining it, before finally looking back at the dancing girls in front of him.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mahad lean toward him quietly to bring his thin lips to his ear, saying in a whisper:
"What happened? "
"Nothing that concerns us for now. " the priest just told the magician as Atem re-entered into the room under the clamour of the guests.
##########
The doors slammed quietly but that did not stop him from hearing them clearly. Slowly opening his eyelids, he straightened up on the bed, his gaze automatically heading towards the twinkling glow of the oil lamp that the Pharaoh was holding between his fingers.
"Sorry. I woke you up. " whispered the latter, a sorry smile on his lips.
Narrowing his eyes, the boy stared at the lantern for a moment before bowing his head, his hands catching the blanket as he answered in a dreary voice:
"I was not sleeping. "
Puzzled, Atem advanced towards the bed, casually placed the candle next to it and came to settle on the side, questioning:
"Really? Why that? Did you have another nightmare? "
"I did not get a wink of sleep yet. " indicated his double in the same tone, slightly worrying the sovereign.
"I'm sorry you could not have dinner with us. Believe me, it was my dearest wish, but if our guests had seen you, they would have asked themselves questions. Our resemblance is far too obvious. "
"I do not worry about that. I understand very well. " Heba went on, his amethyst pupils now drawn to the window, scanning the grey clouds maliciously hiding the moon.
"Are you sure you're all right…? Anyway... it's late; we should just go to sleep. "
Pronouncing these words, the young king got up, circling the bed to settle on the free side, burrowing under the thin silk blanket and resting his head on the pillow. But the teenager at his side remained stubbornly prostrate, not making the slightest movement.
"Heba... " called the Pharaoh, biting his lower lip, this time sincerely troubled.
"I was wondering... " declared his game partner suddenly.
"Yes? "
"What will happen next? "
"What do you mean? "
Taking a sitting position to face the boy, the sovereign tilted his head to the side, uncertain.
"As you have noticed before, I'm much more aware of what surrounds me than one might think at first glance. I know very well what's happening with the Kerma Kingdom... I know a war is coming. "
"You shouldn't worry about such a thing... " tried to reassure him the young king, taking one of his double's hands between his owns.
"But it actually concerned me! " Heba cried back with authority, stepping away from his alter ego.
His eyes veiled with sadness, Atem moved back a little, covering his face between his fingers while blowing.
"I was there… "
"What? "
Frowning, he turned his attention back to the teenager, who murmured weakly:
"I was there... I saw everything... "
"Wha- "
"The millennium trial... "
Eyes rolling back in horror, Atem rushed out of the bed, shaking feverishly. Turning suddenly to the still amorphous boy, he shouted, being beside himself:
"I TOLD YOU TO STAY HERE! "
Holding his breath, he patiently waited for his double to give him any excuse, but receiving only a silence in response, he paced up and down all the more in the bedroom before finally getting out, standing against the edge of the balcony to calmly get a grip on himself.
Clutching his cloak around his shoulders to fight the particularly cool air of the night, he turned around again as he felt a presence behind him, and plunged his purple eyes into the ones of his game partner.
"I didn't intend to disobey... I don't know if you're mad at me because I've seen something I should not have or if you're just scared that I could be afraid of you... but if this is the second option, know that I wouldn't have become that close to you if that had been the case... " related the teenager, continuing to fix his alter ego faultlessly.
"I still haven't heard an excuse... " the Pharaoh simply said, coldly.
"I-I beg you to forgive me... Your M-Majesty... "
Remaining motionless for a few seconds, the sovereign finally sighed tiredly, rubbing his eyes with his fingers as he leaned against the frozen edge.
"Don't call me like that... please... "
Getting closer to his "other me," Heba nervously twisted the sides of his tunic, adding in a whisper:
"Atem... what does a battle look like when the millennium items are involved? "
Abandoning all attempts at lying, the young king let himself slide to the ground and divulged with trembling lips:
"A massacre…? "
Under the stiffening of his double, he inhaled highly, saying a little lost:
"What does a battle look like when one camp benefits from the use of magic? When it can predict any attack in advance? When it can crush an entire army simply by annihilating the minds of the soldiers? When it can summon so powerful monsters from the Shadow Realm that they can destroy the enemy with one destructive breath? "
He waited, once again, the slightest intervention of the boy, but resumed on his momentum when the latter continued to withdraw into silence.
"Yet that's not what I'm trying to accomplish... I don't want to be the instigator of such a thing... And at the same time, I can't sit idly by when another kingdom is targeting my life. There is never a good solution, never a fair compromise that does not end in the blood. It's a thinking game as well as a game of logic: if my opponent makes a move against me, then I have to do the same. No, I must be much more drastic, so he can understand that I'm stronger than him. "
"Like your father in the past? "
Jumping, Atem looked up at the teenager, watching him sadly a minute before bowing his head, ashamed.
"I was just a baby at that time, but I've heard my parents talk about it many times afterwards. This war that the Pharaoh Aknamkanon miraculously won while the enemy was cornering him at the very doors of his kingdom. And Egypt... the Great Egypt that ends up terrorising to the Phoenician merchants because of this bloody story... "
"I'm not my father! "
Yelling these words while standing up suddenly, the Pharaoh spread his arms on both sides of his body, distraught.
"That's what I want to avoid! I don't want a new war! And if ever it turns out to be inevitable, I don't want to use the millennium items to win it! "
"Liar… "
"Wh-?! "
Surprised, the sovereign frowned again, not understanding. Flinching, Heba faced his alter ego, seeming rather annoyed.
"You play with the enemy! You impregnate yourself with this monstrous past, and from the top of your throne, without doing anything; you challenge him to dare to attack you! Of course, it's a thinking game! To whoever will take the most risk, even though you know that you are the only one who can win! "
Pursing his lips, the young king snuck back inside his apartments, stopping in the middle of the playroom when his game partner resumed.
"I do believe that you want to avoid a new war from happening, but in the same way that you played with the nerves of these two assassins that day, you play with those of Queen Katimala today! You gather your troops, but you don't cross Kerma. No, you just stop at the border between the two countries and wait for your opponent's next move! "
"Ho-How?! " stammered the Pharaoh, stunned.
"I don't need to spy on the Council meetings to know how you act. You play games with me the same way! The best strategy is the trap! "
Letting out a bitter laugh, Atem entered the hall room, and sitting on one of the chairs surrounding the ivory table, he waited until the boy joined him, confessing without any more ulterior motives.
"You're right... and I guess it's a very unfair way to play... But as the king of Egypt, I can't afford the slightest mistake. "
"You don't have to be a scary king to govern well. Not threatening your enemies isn't a sign of weakness. On the contrary, there is no wiser than one who maintains peace without ever warring. "
"Heba... There is no wiser than you who are not even king... "
Chuckling lightly, the tension slowly subsiding, Heba forced the sovereign to stand up and wrapping his arms around him, he whispered against his ear:
"Rely on me in this kind of moment. Let me help you to bear your sufferings as you help me to bear mine. "
"You don't know what you're talking about... " Atem claimed, tightening his grip on the teenager. "You're helping me so much already. Without you, I would have a long time ago yielded to the darkness of my soul. "
"In this case... " stated his double, freeing himself a little to put his forehead against the one of the Pharaoh, closing his eyelids. "I will hold your hand every time the shadows will seek to engulf you. You'll just have to call my name... "
"Don't doubt for one second that I would not do it. "