The Pharaoh, Part II
Summary: Pharaoh Atemu has taken the reigns of the world in his hands, leading Egypt into a time of record breaking prosperity and expansion. But his cruelty driven by anger and grief might just bring his house of cards down. Will his brilliance prevail as external forces try to drive him from the throne?
Author's Notes:
I don't intend on banging this entire fanfiction out over the next few months. I honestly expect to start it to get some feelers out on how people are receiving it, probably work on another of my fanfictions that I've left hanging for awhile, and come back and finish this some time in the future. Of course, if the reception is warm enough and I'm in the right mood, I may strike while the iron is hot and do this all in one stroke, so we'll just have to see.
This is a direct sequel to my previous finished fanfiction, The Pharaoh. You should read it before you read this one, or else you may find yourself confused. Here is the first story.
.net/s/4516437/1/The_Pharoah
These stories are a loose adaptation of The Godfather films.
If you have any thoughts on this fic, please feel free to let me know anything on your mind in the reviews or contacting me in the variety of ways available on my profile page.
Thank you, and enjoy.
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Chapter One: The Greatest Empire
From his vantage point on high, seated on a massive, golden, jewel-encrusted throne, Grand Pharaoh Atemu could see everything on this most glorious day.
He could see the brilliant beaming sun, high above the show set before him, blazing great heat down on everyone. The entire courtyard in front of his palace, impeccably cleaned beforehand, buzzing with thousands of people from all across the world. The great long tables of food and drink. Glinting statues made of all kinds of precious metals standing everywhere, watching the crowd move back and forth. The throng of Egyptian soldiers surrounding the courtyard, a watchful eye on everything.
A sight fitting this wonderful day.
He looked to his left and saw his most trusted priests, his inner circle, seated on thrones not quite as opulent as his, but nevertheless gold and encrusted with jewels in all form of fine pattern with a purple pillow on the seat. Moving down the line, there was High Priest Seto, the second most powerful man in the world. He had inherited the position from his father, and had not disappointed in his role. Next to him was Isis, the most powerful woman in the world, seated similarly, stoically looking the crowd over. Then there was Mahad, considered to be the most powerful link the world still had to black magic. Karim, following his father's footsteps, was next in the line of priests that he truly trusted. Shada was there as well, overlooking the great sight. Buhen even further down, the latest in a long line of family high ranking priests. A carryover from the last reign completed the procession. Aknadin sat at the end, high priest of Aknamkanon, Atemu's father. Atemu was more than content to let his father's right hand man remain on until he stepped down of his own free will or the will of the gods. Each priest wore the gender appropriate high-dress priest tunic.
He looked over to his right, to more people he trusted for different reasons. To his immediate right was his beautiful wife, Teana, seated on a giant purple pillow, wearing a a golden flowing dress and diamond encrusted sandals, with two young children in her lap. On her left knee was Ammon, eight year old Prince to the greatest kingdom the world had ever known, heir to the throne that seated the man closer to the gods than any other human. Asenath sat on her right knee, three year old Princess of Egypt. Teana had her arms wrapped around both of their shoulders, looking down at them happily.
To her right, seated on a golden pillow, was Amaunet. Atemu's beloved mother, the effects of old age beginning to take their toll on her lovely body. Deprived of a husband ten years ago, she continued to plod on, with no real royal title, but still residing happily in the palace and watching the great reign of her son. She occasionally raised her hands to wave at the crowd distantly, but otherwise preferred to lay back on the pillow.
Atemu stood up, approaching the balcony and stone fence at the front of his little dais slowly, bringing a swept silence to the massive crowd. As he moved forward, he was able to look down and view a small marble table right at the base of the raised platform he stood on.
There was the real power.
The leaders of the world sat at this table, dining and talking amongst each other. The leaders of Libya, Sudan, Somalia, Ethiopia, Turkey, Spain, and every country and nation inbetween, along with an assortment of family members, all sat here, right at the feet of Pharaoh Atemu. Right where he put them.
Right where they could hear him.
"I love a good birthday party." Atemu said, speaking loudly so his voice might carry as far as possible across the crowd, but as always, he wanted those just below him to be able to hear. "Today's my twenty-eighth, and it's a great honor that you all could join. For virtually all of Egypt to turn out is quite one thing, but for every single king, emperor, every world leader to make a visit themselves is truly a great honor for me!"
He thought he heard a snort from the table. He chose to ignore it.
"Yes...my twenty-eight." He paused. "Ten years to the day I turned eighteen. It's still hard for me to talk too much about that day." He motioned with his right hand to seemingly nobody, but as soon as he did, the segment of stone he stood on began to slowly sink down, silently, towards ground level. "A day of brutality, bloodshed, and pain. We lost a great man that day. And we're all still paying for it. We'll all pay for it forever." The stone slab continued to descend toward the stone table below him. "Let's all continue to remember him, remember what he did, remember the evils that befell him. It's tragic that, every birthday I've ever had I've had to reflect on that. It should be a day of nothing but happiness, but even as you're enjoying the festivities today, don't forget about him." The stone came to a rest just a few inches above the ground. He stepped off onto the sand below.
"Now, I'd like to extend my thanks to the millions who have made their tributes to me already today." He stepped out right in front of the table. "So, I ask, how are all of you wonderful men and women-" he scanned quickly across the table "-going to top that? I think it's time to have a look at my presents."
Atemu suddenly stepped to his right and began to move around the table. "Although, perhaps the honor of going first should be reserved for Ramses!" Every pair of eyes followed his moments, coming up from the front of the table towards the crowd. "Ramses, the grand general of Egypt's mighty armies. He promised he had something truly grand in store for my birthday. Promised I wouldn't be disappointed no matter how high my expectations. Yes, let's see what Ramses has cooked up!" He was now in front of the table, standing alone in the gap between the table of elites behind him and the masses in front.
He looked over to his left, a sandy pathway that stretched on a good distance until it curved around the side of the palace. Everyone followed suit, looking over at the currently empty path.
A horse and it's rider came into view, coming from the side of the palace, heading down the path toward the massive party. A massive, brown stallion of a horse it was. The rider wore the traditional brown and red garb of a soldier in the Egyptian army. Behind it was a large wooden cart on wheels, attached to the horse's hindquarters, being pulled along with the steed. A blanket covered the contents of the cart, but it was clear the cart was loaded by the way the cloth had been shaped like a mountain in molding itself to cover the gift.
As soon as the procession of horse, man and cart had cleared the palace sidepath, a nearly identical arrangement appeared behind it, marching in single file toward the Pharaoh. This sight repeated itself a further eighteen times, by which time the head horse had come right in front of the Pharaoh.
The head rider dismounted into a bow before the Pharaoh. "Almighty Pharaoh Atemu! I wish you the finest birthday anyone has ever had. My men have labored hard these last few weeks, to bring you a gift worthy of your mighty stature and great power. We have all put in extra effort to bring this before you." He moved to the cart, grabbing the edge of the cloth. "Our attacks were more brutal, more furious, and faster than ever, and our marching was at a record-setting pace." He tugged the blanket off, revealing a mound of precious metals and jewels. All of the riders behind him, who had dismounted during his short speech, did the same to reveal a similar pile of glinting valuables.
Atemu quickly looked it all over. Much of it was generic golden bars, molded into blocks that were indistinguishable and unidentifiable from any other, but among those plain pieces were fancy ones. Statues decorated with jewels, staffs, jewelry, busts of famous people of the past, and many other fine treasures. He spent only a few seconds on this before turning to the soldier who had addressed him, who had dropped back down to one knee.
"This is a truly magnificent find." Atemu said. "Where ever did you get it?"
He fell silent, listening intently. And then, he had it. From the table behind him, a small voice. Young, uncultured, foolish enough to speak while the Pharaoh was receiving his gifts.
"Dad, the emerald sundial in the 3rd cart, isn't that-"
"Quiet." A deeper voice interrupted. Atemu continued to listen.
"But dad, it's got the same design, that's-"
"Shut up!"
Atemu took this chance to turn around. His eyes quickly found a younger man, his head cocked toward the ear of the older man sitting by him, just a few seats away on the left side of the table. Their heads froze as they realized they had caught the attention of the Pharaoh. He stared them down.
"Problem?" He said lightly. "This...all this isn't...yours, is it?" He said, motioning with his right hand toward the carts. "That would be very vexing indeed!" He put his left hand up to his forehead in mock drama. "Well, Homer? Is it? That'd just be so embarrassing for me."
The older man, Homer, looked the carts up and down, a cold dead smile stuck on his face as he did so. "I guess not." He wheezed, looking away from the Pharaoh and back to the table.
"Well, that's a relief." Atemu gave a short wave to his general, who remounted his horse and began to lead the procession to the right, away from the party. "You know what to do." He commented as the group slowly pulled away. "Well, then, that was a fine start. Let's go with...Kyros!" He pointed at the end of the table, on the right side, at a middle aged man. "What have you got for me?"
""""
"You're a very funny man." Homer said dryly as he roughly pushed through the beaded veil that separated the Pharaoh's private outdoor chamber from the courtyard and party outside. A relatively small enclosure of stone, holding a desk in the middle and a bookshelf in the back, the room provided a chance for the Pharaoh to take a break from the long party and give his most important guests a chance to privately discuss something with him.
"I thought so too." Atemu smiled back at the Emperor of Greece, who swept across the fairly plain room and invited himself into the seat in front of the desk. Atemu himself was sitting behind it, leaning forward on the wooden surface. "I only wonder if everyone got it."
"Do you get any joy out of humiliating me in front of everyone?" Homer hissed, leaning back in his black cushioned chair. "Out of singling me out over anyone else?"
"Everyone says something like that to me at one point." Atemu shrugged, grabbing a reed pen from the desk surface and flipping it up into the air. "The truth of the matter is, everyone's gotta their licks at some point. Trust me, I don't discriminate." He glanced up at the ceiling, confused, suddenly noticing his pen had lodged itself into the ceiling ten feet above his head.
Homer scoffed. "I knew you were going to be a difficult ruler, but I never imagined-"
"-That I'd be the finest, most ruthless ruler to ever live, expanding the bounds of my reign faster than any before me had even dreamed of?" Atemu now leaned back, no longer smiling. "The nation of Egypt has more than doubled in size since I took the position. The population grows at unyielding rates. The economy thrives. The army at my command is the finest the world has ever known. I've taken on every single other nation in the world, at once, over the past decade and crushed every opposing force thrown at me." His eyes narrowed into slits. "The combined might of every other nation in the world could barely slow down Egypt's conquests. So I fail to see anything difficult about my rule."
Homer grimaced, pausing for several seconds, glancing to his sides, before looking back at the Pharaoh. "So I'm just assuming your men sacked the city of Aenus and emptied the treasury?" He finally growled.
"That would seem to be the case." Atemu replied tartily, drawing a scowl from Homer. "You really shouldn't leave that much treasure in a city so easy to take, even I was surprised at how many carts got filled."
"I wasn't counting on Aenus falling for months." Homer grunted, again looking over to his left at the wall.
"As you can see, Homer, I'm still in control of the world." Atemu picked a small metal top off the desk surface and quickly snapped it through his fingers, causing it to start spinning rapidly on the desk, maintaining it's balance through momentum. "Nothing can stop me from doing whatever I please to this world. Don't piss me off enough to feel like I should single you out for abuse. Don't lose whatever good will you earned with your fine present."
"You think you're the first dominant world power to ever exist?" Homer said through gritted teeth. "Don't make me laugh. Some of the powerful nations of old would leave Egypt a burning wreck and you on your knees, begging for mercy. Your brutality, your cold-hearted, callous, blood-thirsty conquest through the world is the difference. The great Kings, Emperors and Pharaohs knew the value of alliances, friendship, and peace. You, young Pharaoh, know nothing but war and conquest, thinking it makes you great."
"It's like I said, Emperor Homer." Atemu replied icily, grabbing the top in his left hand. "We're all still paying for the death of my father. Every one of us."
Homer knew he had treaded as far as he could. He held his tongue, even as Atemu gave him a moment to say something stupid.
"Greece had their part to play in the events of my father's death, as did every other nation. Before you consider my brutal nature, my merciless power play for territory, and my wanton cruelty towards all you Kings and Emperors, consider your own role in all of this." He dropped the top back to the desk.
"It's not wise for you to come in here and lash me with these words, Homer." Atemu said, again leaning his elbows on the desk. "And you've been around long enough to know that." He looked Homer straight into the eyes. "You've always known to mind yourself around me. Always known that screwing with me was dangerous. What's your game?"
Homer finally gave a small smile, leering at the Pharaoh. "Your military dominance is built on two pillars, Pharaoh. Numbers, and technology."
Atemu nodded, disturbed slightly to see some genuine malice in Homer's manner.
"You'll have your numbers, Pharaoh, but your days of military technology dominance are at an end. For ten years, you've produced military equipment beyond what any other nation possessed, always keeping you two steps ahead." He coughed into his fist. "Well, the rest of the world's catching up, and I think you're all out of genius inventors."
Atemu said nothing, stonily staring at Homer, trying not to give anything away with his expression.
"Soon, we'll all be playing with the same toys. And then, even your superior numbers won't be enough. Go check the reports, the speed of your territory expansion has slowed the last few years, the effects are already displaying themselves. In a few months, you'll barely be moving at all. By your next birthday, your mad quest to rule the entire world will be forgotten, as you struggle to just keep a grip on the land you already have."
Homer stood back up, Atemu following his eyes with his.
"And then, you won't be picking on anyone. We all know this, and nothing can stop it. We're not scared of you anymore, Pharaoh, there's nothing to be scared of now. That's why I come to you on this day, and speak to you like this. Because in a few short months, the balance of power will shift, and it will have meant nothing." He turned, heading for the beaded exit to the small chamber. He stopped just before passing through the beads, turning back to Atemu. "I find your reign entirely deplorable, Pharaoh, the way you've built it on lies and deceit. It's telling that one of your greatest joys is to force all of us to attend your birthday parties every year, force us to pretend we give a damn, pretend we like you, give you some big fancy present just in the hope you don't get offended and spend the rest of the year picking on us. The way you carve a bloody path in every direction through peaceful territories and try to justify it all as some revenge rampage."
Atemu remained silent, choosing to let Homer continue his tirade and simply listen.
"I don't think I'll be attending your little party next year, Pharaoh. I think you'll have a lot on your mind by then anyway." He finally swept through the beads, disappearing back into the large crowd outside, leaving Atemu to his thoughts.
