Chapter Two

"I'm glad to see your appetite is returning. You were beginning to waste away."

At her laughing observation, Tutankhamun took a deep breath, his first since the moment she had simple meal of bread and roasted meat before him. Belatedly realizing that he had been stuffing his mouth with food so briskly that he had barely even chewed in between bites, Tutankhamun quickly swallowed his latest mouthful and discreetly wiped his grease covered fingers and mouth with the corner of the blanket beneath him. Afterwards, he regarded Suhad with a sheepish smile. "My apologies, Suhad. I suppose I was hungrier than I realized. I did not even thank you for preparing the meal."

"Do not apologize," she encouraged with a fond smile, "and no thanks is required. Eat as much as you like. You need the food in order to regain your strength."

"You're right," he agreed, "The sooner I recover fully, the sooner I can return to Thebes."

A mere two days had passed since the young pharaoh had completely recovered from his fevered state and already he was beginning to grow restless. With each hour that passed Tutankhamun grew more and more agitated, especially when he imagined the treacherous acts that must be unfolding in his kingdom. By now, General Horemheb and Ka had to have returned to Thebes with news of his untimely death. His kingdom was likely in a state of flux with different factions of his council all scrambling to seize power in his absence.

He thought of his sister and queen, Ankhesenamun, with mixed emotions. In this time of uncertainty, she would be vulnerable and grieving for him, the perfect victim for those who would prey on her royal position. There was the part of Tutankhamun that was sick with worry at the thought of his sister being used as a pawn in General Horemheb and Ka's games. But then there was also the part of him that worried that he had been her pawn. Exactly how deeply had the treachery within his house infiltrated? Tutankhamun vacillated incessantly between anxiety as to whether or not Ankhesenamun was safe in the nest of vipers that was undoubtedly overrunning his palace or if it was possible that his sister, his most trusted confidante in all his life, had been a part of the plot to dispatch him and usurp his kingdom.

It was a bitter assumption to entertain. He didn't want to believe that Ankhesenamun could be capable of such betrayal. From the time of their childhood onward he and his sister had been each other's greatest allies. When they'd had no one else, they had always had one another. They had conceived and lost two children together. They were bound by a mutual duty to their ancestors to produce a royal heir in the father Akhenaten's name. Yet, Tutankhamun could not ignore the knowledge that his sister had been in love with Ka for as long as he could recall and that her feelings were equally reciprocated by his former friend. Could it be possible that their encompassing desire to be together had finally compelled them to betray their pharaoh?

That question was one of many that plagued Tutankhamun, not only during his waking hours, but during sleep as well. He was besieged with nightmares of Ankhesenamun murdering him as he slumbered or his vizier, generals and the high priest all angling to remove him from the throne. Now that Ka, a man he had loved like a brother, had deceived him Tutankhamun recognized that anyone in his close inner circle could be capable of the same duplicity.

Consequently, he slept very little at night and was left with constant, disquieting thoughts during the day. At times he felt despondent, lost and utterly defeated. Most of all, however, he was exhausted, both physically and mentally. He couldn't remember ever in his life feeling as isolated and alone as he did presently. Thankfully, the fleeting moments of peace he did have were most consistently found in Suhad's presence.

The impact she had made on him and in such a short period of time surprised him greatly. Despite being of common birth and being what his royal court would have considered "ordinary and unsophisticated," Tutankhamun was coming to understand that there was absolutely nothing common about Suhad. In fact, she wasn't anything short of extraordinary, unlike any woman he had ever known. Yes, she was beautiful and he was attracted to her but it wasn't merely her physical appearance that drew him. Suhad was opinionated, independent, frustratingly stubborn and had an admirably strong will.

She challenged him, fascinated him, listened to him intently and dispensed valuable wisdom to him that was both welcome and unwelcome. The more he listened to her speak, the more deeply he came to value her insight and intelligence. While he didn't always agree with her perception of the world or the gods he could not deny that she had powerful convictions and she was fiercely devoted to them. She believed in herself and, for some reason inconceivable to Tutankhamun, she believed in him as well. He could think of no other explanation for why she would risk her safety and possibly even her life in order to ensure his.

And never once had she asked anything of him. She cared for him simply because it had been the right thing to do. Suhad was completely without guile. Her sole motive was to help him heal and keep him safe. She made him smile. She made him laugh. But mostly, she made him think...about his people's perception of him, about the type of pharaoh he wished to be, about the legacy he wanted to leave behind after he finally passed on into the afterlife.

Tutankhamun recognized now that his duty to Egypt went far beyond producing an heir that would continue his royal bloodline. His people needed so much more than that. They needed to know who he was and for what he stood. They needed to know that he truly was their Pharaoh and that could never happen as long as he continued to shield himself behind the palace walls. He was only just beginning to understand that fact prior to the Mitanni conflict. Being a presence in battle and having a willing spirit to shed his own blood on behalf of his nation was merely the start. He had to show them that he was willing to sacrifice anything and everything for their greater good...even himself.

Lost in his unspoken thoughts, Tutankhamun had no idea how thoroughly his mind had wandered in those few minutes until he felt Suhad's gentle nudge at his uninjured side. He favored her with a startled smile. "You're doing it again," she prompted him with a soft smile.

"What is that?"

"Getting lost in your thoughts...and it's beginning to happen more often of late."

His smile was gradually replaced with a guarded expression. "Has it?"

The shift in his demeanor, while subtle, was instantly obvious to Suhad. "What is it that troubles you so, Khaten?" she wondered aloud, "Is it because of the soldiers that continue to search the villages of Amurru looking for a palace spy?"

Tutankhamun pinned her with a sharp glance. "Is that what they are saying?"

She nodded and quickly countered his question with a question of her own. "Is that what you are? Is that why they seek your death?"

He scoffed at the question, his lips pursing in an embittered smirk. "I am no spy, Suhad, but I am, most certainly, a fool."

"A fool? Why do you believe yourself a fool?"

Tutankhamun responded with a dismissive shake of his head. "It's of no consequence. You wouldn't understand."

"How can I when you've yet to give me an opportunity to do so?" she queried pointedly, "I should like to ease your burden if I could."

"You cannot."

"How can you know for sure if you will not give me the chance?"

Tutankhamun nibbled at his lower lip pensively and Suhad could plainly see the internal war he waged against trusting her going on behind his beautifully expressive eyes. Finally, however, he shook his head. "It would be better for you to remain ignorant of the chaos surrounding me, Suhad," he murmured, "I don't wish to draw you into my misfortune."

"And if that is my choice?"

He responded with one word, resolute and implacable. "No."

Suhad emitted a low growl of aggravation. "So am I to pretend that I don't see you in pain day after day?" she demanded, "Have you any idea what level of frustration you raise in me? I hardly ever know what you mean or why you say the things you say or do the things you do!"

"How can I explain to you what I have yet to come to terms with myself?"

She jabbed her index finger into the center of his bare chest. "There! Exactly my point!" she volleyed back, "You always speak in such cryptic terms, Khaten! What does that even mean?"

Her mounting exasperation with him rolled off of her in waves and filled Tutankhamun with unexpected guilt. When he first made the decision to keep the truth from her he had been steadfast in his conviction to do so. But now, only two days later, he found himself wavering and reconsidering whether or not he owed her the truth.

While he recognized that he was being unfair to her and that Suhad, at least, deserved to know what possible danger involvement with him would bring her, Tutankhamun knew that he could not divulge his true identity. There was too much at stake. To tell her the truth now would require a reserve of trust that he did not possess at the moment. At the moment, her motives for helping him were pure and genuine. Tutankhamun couldn't bear it such selfless actions became tainted by the revelation that he was Pharaoh. He was still in a state of self-preservation, unwilling and unable to face the possibility of being disappointed by yet another person in whom he had placed his trust.

So, instead of answering her directly, he evaded her question completely by pushing away his food bowl and scooting fully into an upright position. "It means, Suhad..." he said as he prepared himself to stand, "...that I have languished in my sick bed long enough and the time has come for me to get on my feet." When he realized that the task of shifting to his feet was easier said than done, he flicked Suhad with a helpless glance. "Could you lend a hand, please?"

At first, she crossed her arms in obstinate denial of her assistance, partly due to her belief that he was doing too much too soon and partly in irritation because he had so blatantly avoided providing her with an answer to her question. "Do you really think this is a good idea? You've only just begun to recover! You're not ready!"

He needed only to whisper her name and flutter his lushly lashed eyes full of boyish appeal for her to soften. He had quite a knack for testing the limits of her patience but when he smiled at her in that disarmingly innocent manner he had of smiling, Suhad had difficulty remaining cross with him. With his assumption of victory, Tutankhamun extended his hand towards her. "Please, my friend. Help me to do this."

"You are quite the manipulator, Khaten," she charged him in starchy tone even as she bent forward to fulfill his request for assistance, "Has anyone ever told you that?"

"Not to my face," he chuckled.

She grunted in response, looping his arm across the back of her neck in order to steady him, careful not to jostle his body too much for fear of reopening the wound at his flank. Despite her ginger care, Tutankhamun still found himself gasping sharply as they shifted upright together and the tightened borders of his wound pulled. Suhad paused in their ascent, her forehead creased with worry.

"This isn't a good idea. I don't want to hurt you."

"I'll be fine," he panted through gritted teeth, "Help me stand completely, at least."

"You're in pain!"

"As I will be for some considerable time! How is that a valid argument for stopping?"

She made a face at him. "How is that a valid argument for continuing this?"

"Whether I stand today or tomorrow, it must be done."

"Then let us opt for tomorrow."

He surveyed her with a beseeching look from beneath the fan of lush, dark eyelashes. "You agreed to help me," he reminded her softly, "I'm disappointed. I never took you for someone who would renege on their word."

Suhad expelled an exasperated huff, keenly aware that he was using guilt and cajolery as bait to bend him to her will. "I am attempting to talk reason into you! Khaten, you are not ready for this. You've been off of your feet for weeks! You have no strength in your legs! Besides that, the sun is already beginning to descend on the horizon. Where do you propose to go?"

He braced his body against her, making it abundantly clear that he intended to find his footing with or without her aid. "I don't know!" he retorted sharply, "But...I am going to do this. A walk to the entry way or around the perimeter, perhaps...I can't imagine what I have planned beyond standing on my own two feet! But I need to do something more than stare at the confines of these stone walls! Please. I will do this without you if I must but I would prefer to have your support."

Though she remained uncertain, Suhad set her jaw in reluctant compliance and held out her arm to him so that Tutankhamun could brace his body weight against her own. Then, as best she could with his entire body feeling practically like dead weight, she helped him struggle to his feet. Unfortunately, everything she had warned him about proved to be true.

The instant Tutankhamun made the attempt to bear weight on his flaccid legs, his knees wobbled and then buckled beneath him. Without warning, both he and Suhad went crashing back to the ground in an unceremonious heap. Tutankhamun groaned, both in mortification and frustration, a string of curses spilling from his lips over his failure. While he lay there trying to get his bearings, Suhad was already scrambling up onto her knees and was skimming her fingers over his body looking for any signs of injury.

He expected her to chastise him for not listening but instead she regarded him with an anxious frown. "You're not hurt, are you?"

Tutankhamun flung a forearm across his eyes. "Yes...my pride is devastated beyond measure," he uttered dramatically.

The panic that had started to bloom in Suhad's breast gave way to a stunned laugh instead. "I meant your wound! You're not bleeding again, are you?"

Tutankhamun angled a glance down at his flank. The borders of his healing scar had pulled and he was aching now, but he saw no evidence bleeding seeping through his bandage. "I think it's well."

Suhad wilted back against a nearby boulder in relief. "Good."

"So..." Tutankhamun panted, favoring her with a tired smile, "Shall we try that again?"

Ten minutes later, as Suhad carefully steadied him as he limped around the hut's outside perimeter, Tutankhamun began to seriously contemplate why he had been so insistent on taking a walk in the first place. He already felt as if he had been marching for miles, a fine sheen of sweat beading the expanse of his partially clothed body. Stubborn pride, however, prevented him from asking Suhad to rest though she could tell from his slowed gait and the small grunts he made with each step that he was gradually reaching his breaking point. Finally, she made the decision for them both and ended their brief sojourn by guiding him back into the hut.

"I wasn't ready to stop," he protested after she'd helped him situate himself upon his pallet.

"Liar. You were practically sagging with exhaustion and we both know it."

"Perhaps a little," he confessed in an under-breath, his eyes already beginning to droop with fatigue, "I feel as if I could sleep for a thousand years."

"I'll draw some water. A bath will help to soothe your muscles."

He listened to the quiet sloshing sounds she made as she gathered supplies for his bath. Though he had gained considerable strength in the past two days, Tutankhamun still continued to tire very quickly, even when executing simple tasks. Consequently, Suhad continued to assist him with grooming himself, even washing, taming and tying back his long, dark hair, something that he hadn't had much experience with doing on his own before he was injured.

"You shouldn't push yourself, Khaten," she advised him from across the hut as she readied the wash basin, "You're likely to delay your recovery rather than hasten it."

"There is wisdom in what you say," he sighed in concession, "I won't deny it."

"And yet you will remain as stubborn as ever." Her words while pointed and tart were also laced with trembling concern.

His eyes fluttered open then and he met her anxious stare across the expanse separating them. "I'm trying your patience, aren't I?"

"No. You mistake my concern with aggravation. Do not forget that I have had firsthand knowledge of just how close you came to death. I had to watch you writhe in agony for days on end when there was little I could do to bring you comfort. It's not an experience I'm eager to relive."

He regarded her with dark eyes filled with remorse. "Forgive me, Suhad. I don't mean to give you the impression that I'm ungrateful for all you've done for me."

"You say that you are grateful and yet I know that you will continue to risk yourself."

"I have my reasons."

"And what reasons are those?"

"Suhad...have you ever known what it is to carry the weight of the entire world on your shoulders?"

It would have been simple to dismiss the question as the disproportionate theatrical musings of a restless man but something compelled Suhad to consider the subject seriously. She shook her head slowly, quieted not by the question itself but the resounding vulnerability she detected behind it. "No. I cannot say that I have ever known that feeling." Suhad regarded him for a beat of silence before asking, "Is that how you feel?"

He cast his eyes downward, drawing circles through the sand with his index finger, finding it strangely impossible to meet her avid stare in that instant. "I feel the weight of every decision I make every moment of every of day and there are times when I fear that, no matter what path I take, I will fail...as if that were my destiny...as if the gods themselves are willing it." He pursed his lips in a solemn smile. "Who knows? Perhaps that is my destiny."

"I don't believe that. The gods have little to do with it. That is what the priests would have you believe so that you continue to pay tribute. The reality is...we are all the masters of our own destiny."

"That sounds very close to blasphemy, Suhad."

"Is it blasphemous or is it sound reason?" she argued, "Is it better to put faith in gods who would purposely torment you simply because they had the power to do so? Or would it be better to believe that we possess some measure of control over our own fates?"

"I suppose there is truth to that. I've always believed that fate is not what we are given. It is what we take for ourselves."

"Exactly," she replied, moving to his side with the water basin in hand, "It's true that we cannot control the events that unfold around us, whether for good or for bad, but we can control whether or not we are discouraged by our hardships, whether we allow them to beat us into inaction. Failure can only come when you lack the will to succeed, Khaten."

"And if it is the gods' desire to break your will?"

"Do not allow them."

"It is not that simple, Suhad. I must return to Thebes. Every day I do not compounds my failure to fulfill my duty."

"How can you say that you have failed in your duty? You were wounded in battle on the Pharaoh's behalf! You nearly died! Was your spilled blood not enough on behalf of Egypt...on behalf of your king?"

"You don't understand," he muttered.

"So you've said before and the reason I cannot understand remains unchanged. You make it impossible! I'm baffled as to why you feel that you owe a personal debt to the Pharaoh when you've already sacrificed so much!" she countered hoarsely, "I don't know the reason for the constant sadness I see in your eyes. I don't understand why you don't seem to believe that you are good and honorable and worthy. I wonder who did such a disservice to you, Khaten, to make you believe that you are less than what you are."

Stunned, not only by her impassioned speech, but also the realization that she was nearly on the verge of tears, and for him no less, Tutankhamun reached out to take hold of her hand. He gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze. "Thank you," he whispered sincerely, "For everything you've done for me, Suhad. No one has ever spoken to me the way you have, not without an agenda. I could have never survived these past weeks without your care."

"What else could I have done?" she whispered in return, surreptitiously whisking away the tears that fell on her cheeks, "You were abandoned and helpless. I couldn't simply leave you out in the riverbed to die."

He reluctantly pulled his fingers from hers. "Perhaps that would have been the better option for you."

Suhad's went rigid with his response, clearly horrified by his words. "Why would you say something so awful?"

"You have no idea who I am or what you risk by helping me. I fear you may live to regret it someday."

She shook her head in denial of that and moistened the washcloth in preparation to wash his face. She briskly cleaned behind his ears before moving on to his forehead. "I could never regret doing what I know to be right."

"Even if you risk yourself by doing so?"

Suhad did not hesitate in her answer, continuing his wash briskly as she practically spat out her words. "Even then. That is what marks the measure of a friendship, is it not? And I should like to think that you and I are friends."

"Unfortunately, in my experience, friends can quickly become enemies...if they were ever truly friends at all."

"Perhaps you've made the wrong friends."

Tutankhamun snorted a humorless chuckle at the rejoinder, pointedly ignoring her apparent intention to scrub away all the flesh from his body. "Haven't you an ounce of caution at all or sense of self-preservation for that matter?. I cannot understand you. I'm trying to protect you!"

"From what? From you?"

"From repeating my mistakes."

At that point, Suhad flung the washcloth into the water bowl with a disgusted huff, too distracted by his arguments to continue her task. "And what mistakes are those?"

As she expected he would, rather than answering her question, he retreated emotionally and his expression instantly became guarded. "I merely advising that you use caution," he murmured after a few beats of tense silence.

"Why? Because I want to help you? Because I trust you?"

"Do not do that," he told her flatly, his handsome features suddenly clouded with the inner demons he wrestled with daily, "Do not trust me, Suhad, or anyone for that matter. Trust yourself. To do otherwise is much too costly."

"Is that what happened to you, Khaten? Did you trust someone and did it cost you?"

"To my everlasting shame. I believed in someone, despite my better judgment, and they betrayed me."

"If they betrayed you then it is not your shame! It is theirs!"

"But it was my naiveté that allowed them to take the advantage. I should have known better! I should have seen it! But I was willfully blind and I wanted to believe and that was a grave mistake."

"Are you saying that I'm blind when it comes to you?"

"You don't know me, Suhad," he said again.

"And whose fault is that?" she retorted, "I've tried again and again to break down your walls but you are determined to hold me at arm's length!"

"For your protection," he emphasized.

"So you've said before, but I'm beginning to suspect that it is for your protection, Khaten."

He pinned her with an affronted glower. "What does that mean?"

"It means that you've learned a rather peculiar lesson from your betrayal," she said, "Does it truly seem feasible to you to never trust anyone again...to cut yourself off so thoroughly from human emotion, to isolate yourself?"

"It is not isolation. It is self-preservation. It is discernment. It is-,"

"-It is cowardice," she finished boldly, "and that is not who you are! You say I don't know you, but I know you very well. You are a man who intervened to protect a woman you did not know, who made it his business to return the goods lost to her. You are a man who has fought and bled for his country...a man who feels his sense of duty so strongly that he won't even allow himself to fully recover before risking his life again. You are a good man, Khaten.

"Look at me, please," she urged when he would have turned his eyes aside, "I would be remiss if I didn't warn you of the self-destructive path you are so intent on taking. Rather than dealing hurt to those who dealt hurt to you, you strike yourself with the very blows they themselves intended for you! How can it be a good thing to never know true friendship again or real love and all due to the actions of people who proved through their duplicity their complete lack of worth?"

He closed his eyes in order to block out the veracity of her words, twin tears slipping from beneath the thick fan of his lashes. But Suhad gently cupped his cheek, her fingers tenderly stroking jaw until he was ready to meet her eyes again. "I'm not immune to your pain. I cannot imagine the hurt you've been dealt. I've seen how deeply you grieve but, please, do not compound your grief by granting your enemies an emotional victory over you."

"I hear your words," he acknowledged in a thickened tone, "But I am not yet in a place where I can even conceive it. Do you understand?"

"I do. But I would like you to consider my advice nonetheless."

Tutankhamun covered her hand with his own, staring up at her with an expression full of awe, gratitude and admiration. "How is it that you are able to speak with so much wisdom and authority about such things?" With his words and his touch, Suhad felt that familiar electric energy crackling between them, a powerful pull towards him that seemed to grow in intensity the longer she was in his presence. She didn't know quite what to make of it but she did know that feeling filled her with a peculiar uneasiness.

Beset by a sudden, inexplicable trembling at both his touch and the intent way he regarded her, Suhad briskly pulled her hand from his grasp and resumed the clinical washing of his face in hopes of shaking off the odd feelings he stirred in her. "I'm hardly wise, Khaten," she scoffed, "I merely believe it would be an inconsolable loss if you never allowed yourself to be truly loved by someone and to love truly in return."