Chapter Four

"You've gained great strength in such a short period of time," Suhad acknowledged as she and Tutankhamun made their way across the rugged terrain towards her village. He deftly navigated the path across the rocky ground with the use of a walking stick, stumbling only a few times since their journey had begun. Suhad was proud of him. "I'm glad to see it."

He nearly lost his footing completely at the admiration he detected in her casual observation. She gave the compliment so effortlessly, as if she had not spent the remainder of the previous evening after their abbreviated disagreement and the better part of that morning giving him the silent treatment. Following their argument, Suhad had excused herself from the hut in order to "organize her thoughts" as she had phrased it. She'd kept herself hidden for hours afterward. When she later returned, guarded and somber, she didn't speak a word to him at all. Consequently, Tutankhamun had spent the night restless with insomnia, half in anguish at the prospect of having possibly alienated her with the truth and half in anger because he felt as if she were punishing him for telling it.

Biting back to compulsion to make a comment to that effect, Tutankhamun murmured instead, "Yes, the gods have imposed their will."

Given the explosive atmosphere crackling between them, it was the wrong thing to say. While Tutankhamun had been able to squelch his irritation with her, Suhad had a more difficult time bridling her tongue with him. She stopped short at his remark and flashed him a narrowed glare filled with irritation. "Was it the gods who dragged you from the riverbed, stopped your bleeding wound or kept you hidden?" she snapped.

"You mock the gods when they are the proof that I still breathe."

"You are the proof that you still breathe, Khaten! Your own will! Why must you continually give away your own glory?"

"Suhad, have you ever once considered that perhaps it was the gods who led you to me...that they meant for you to find me?"

She emitted a scornful snort under her breath. "For what purpose?"

"To bring us back into each other's lives again," he replied softly.

Suhad's shoulders slumped forward with his words, her spine losing much of its rigidity when she detected the implication behind his words. "Do not do this to me, Khaten," she pleaded in a small voice, "My feelings haven't changed."

"Shouldn't we discuss it, at least? I wish to understand why."

"You know why! Why must we discuss it further? You have a wife. You have a life that is completely separate from my own. I'm not even certain at this time if you have children!"

"I don't," he answered quickly, but something in his tone alerted Suhad to the fact that wasn't the end of it. She quirked her lips in a bittersweet smile.

"But the conclusion is inevitable."

"Because it is my duty!" he stressed vehemently, "That is not how I wish it to be."

"What we wish and what is reality have little to do with one another."

He lightly grasped hold of her wrist when she would have walked away from him, waylaying her retreat. "Suhad, please..."

He did not speak another word until she finally, hesitantly met his entreating stare. Once she had, she immediately regretted her decision. She wasn't immune to the boyish appeal softening the lines his striking face. Khaten was typically rather guarded in his feelings, concealing them most often behind an impassive mask. Only on rare occasions did he allow the facade to slip so that his emotions could be read plainly on his beautiful face. It was in those moments that Suhad found him most irresistible. He was an undeniably lovely man, especially now with wispy tendrils of his long, dark hair framing his face and his eyes glowing like amber stones in the desert sun. But to Suhad he was made even lovelier by his willingness to humble himself on her account.

For that reason, she ceased her attempts to resist and nodded her permission for him to continue. "Go on," she invited, "Say what you will."

"Everything I believe tells me that there was design in your finding me that day. There was never any reason for you and I to ever cross paths again in our lifetime and yet we did. I cannot believe that was mere coincidence. You saved my life. You gave me hope. You changed my heart. These are no small things."

"I know that," she mumbled thickly, licking at the tears that slipped mutinously down the slopes of her cheeks and collected in the grooves at the corners of her mouth, "Why do you think this is so difficult for me? I never thought I would see you again either. And after your friend brought me the seeds, you were all I could think about. When I found you that day in the riverbed...yes, I will admit...it felt like providence."

"It was. I truly believe the gods brought us together again. For days I've been trying to grasp the reason why they allowed me to live but now I think I know...for you. They let me live for you, Suhad."

"There you go again, giving credit to nebulous, faceless gods who have little to do with the human will."

He bit back a fond smile. "And there you go blaspheming again."

"It's not blasphemy. I see how the gods impose their power over people. The greatest strength we possess is our own will. That is how I knew you were an important man. Not because the gods sent me a vision, but because you would not let yourself die, Khaten."

"Did your Mitanni grandmother teach you these thoughts?"

Suhad grunted a small laugh at the mild chastisement she heard in his tone. "I'm free to think for myself."

"You are wise to use caution. Your words have the power to inflame. The way you speak could anger many."

"Does it anger you?" she countered softly. Suhad didn't realize that she was holding her breath in anticipation of his answer until he shook his head and it leaked from her lungs in a serrated sigh.

"No, it doesn't," he told her, "Truthfully, you sometimes voice aloud questions that I have asked only in the privacy of my own heart. But there is a stark contrast between questioning the gods and lacking faith in them all together. I merely wonder what circumstance destroyed your faith so thoroughly."

"You will see for yourself when we reach my village."

Despite her forewarning concerning the conditions he would find there, Tutankhamun remained unprepared for the bleak poverty that was representative of Suhad's village. The people there appeared lean and haggard with very little materially to sustain themselves. As they walked along the path towards her family's tent, he witnessed several scenes of families with five or more persons sharing one bowl of food. He saw women and children with bodies insufficiently clothed, arms and legs thin and frail from lack of proper sustenance. He witnessed the sick and feeble making a valiant attempt to care for the equally sick and feeble. The subdued air in the camp lifted temporarily with Suhad's arrival and the hope that she had brought goods with her return but then immediately returned once it was discovered she had returned empty handed.

"What has happened here?" Tutankhamun asked, angling a glance all around them, "Is there not enough food for your people?"

"What isn't pillaged and stolen by the Mitanni is confiscated by the priests as tribute for the gods," she said, "After it is all done, we have very little to subsist on here."

"But you seem to have done well for yourself."

"Only because I'm strong enough to make the journey to Thebes in order to make trade. Not everyone is as fortunate as I."

"But if the priests were aware of your circumstances perhaps they would-,"

"-They are aware, Khaten. More than aware. They don't care! The priests tell us that it is our limited tribute to the gods that causes us to continue to fall prey to the Mitanni. 'If only we were to give more to the gods then they would surely offer us their protection and purge the Mitanni dog from our midst,'" she recited bitterly, "It's all a farce! But, regrettably, there are some in my village who truly believe that...namely my own family."

Suhad had barely finished uttering the words when she and Tutankhamun came upon her father pleading with the priest of Sobek, whose temple they regularly offered tribute to in hopes of rain for the crops. The priest was regarding her father with contempt as he spat, "The offering is not negotiable! The Temple of Sobek protects your land. His holiness was lenient on my last visit but you test his good favor! He will not be so understanding this time!"

"Please, my lord," Suhad's father pleaded, "We had a poor yield. I have given you all that I am able. Were I to give more, my family would starve."

"Perhaps you should have more faith in the gods to provide you with your needs," the priest retorted.

Infuriated past reason by that galling declaration, Suhad shot forward before Tutankhamun could discern her intention and quickly placed herself between the priest and her father, her beautiful features twisted with rage. "And perhaps you should not take further from those who already have nothing!" she spat.

"Suhad!" her father admonished sharply, "Be still! Do not do this, daughter!"

"It's not right, Father! It's not right!"

"Will I have the tribute I require or not?" the priest demanded, firmly ignoring Suhad.

Before her father could answer, however, she bit out between clenched teeth, "You will not, sir! You will walk away under your own power or be carried off! The choice is yours!"

Her words garnered the priest's undivided attention. "Are you threatening me, child?"

"I make a promise," she hissed in retort.

"Suhad! Enough," her father snapped, "Into the tent!"

"No, Father, he has no right! He's nothing but a fraud! A false prophet! He doesn't represent the gods! None of them do!"

"You dare to speak to the Priest of Sobek, God of Water, with cursed words?" the priest demanded.

Suhad pinned him with a venomous glare. "I do."

"Please, my lord," Suhad's father quickly interjected, stepping forward to shield his hot-tempered daughter from the priest's coming wrath, "Forgive my daughter. She speaks out of turn. Her brother was recently killed in a Mitanni raid and she grieves still. She doesn't know her place!"

Tutankhamun was still absorbing the revelation that Suhad had a brother when the priest lifted his hand to strike her. "Then I will show it to her!" Before his hand could make punishing contact with her face, Tutankhamun moved with the precision of a striking cobra and intervened, snapping hold of the priest's wrist in a viselike grip. "Don't!"

"You dare to touch me, peasant!" the priest spat hotly.

"You heard her," Tutankhamun intoned darkly, "Save your strength, priest. You may leave under your own power or be carried...which is it?"

"We shall see who is carried!"

Without warning, the priest gave a short nod and the entourage that had accompanied him was suddenly in motion. The attendants sprang forward to attack Tutankhamun with clubs, pelting him from all sides. Though he managed to hold his own quite well against their blows, dispatching one and then another with soldier-like efficiency, the fact that they outnumbered him 6 to 1 curried the odds in their favor. They began wrestling him towards the ground. Tutankhamun was only vaguely aware of the sound of Suhad's hysterical screaming over the punishing thud of their blows. Once he was on the ground, they began interspersing their blows with punished kicks to his ribs and mid-section.

"Stop it! Stop it!" he heard Suhad weeping wildly as he tried his best to absorb the brunt of the assault, "He's been badly wounded and he's still healing! You're going to kill him!"

Somewhere above his head he heard the trembling voice of a woman say, "Take it, please, my lord! Do not set the gods upon us! Please!"

And, just as abruptly as his beating had begun, it ended. The priest raked them all with a scathing glower. "Do not be mistaken," he warned as he turned away, "This will not be forgotten by the gods."

Suhad immediately fell to her knees at Tutankhamun's side as his assailants dispersed and followed their master, leaving an injured Tutankhamun crumpled in the dirt. She gathered his battered body against her breasts, sobbing harshly into the rumpled hair at his temple. "I'm sorry, Khaten! I'm so, so sorry." Though he was the one who had been hurt, Tutankhamun did his best to comfort her, weakly bringing his hand forward to cradle her head against his. She cast a desperate glance over her shoulder to the woman who had pleaded with the priest and given him the full tribute. "Mother, please...help me get him into the tent!"

As her mother bent forward to aid Suhad in hoisting Tutankhamun to his feet, her father said, "I will bury the bodies in the meantime." He leveled Suhad with a mournful stare. "There will be sure punishment for what occurred here today."

Unwilling to dwell on that ominous prediction for the moment, Suhad turned her full attention towards Tutankhamun and tending his injuries. The first thing she did was they were within the safe confines of her family's tent was to inspect the bandage at his midsection. Thankfully, his wound didn't appear to be reopened. Satisfied, Suhad quickly turned her attention to the new bruises and abrasions he'd acquired during his assault.

"I'm fine," he reassured her, "I had the wind knocked from me. That's all."

Suhad deftly wet a cloth with water and ointment and began dabbing at the oozing cut above his left eye. "That is not all," she muttered self-deprecatingly, "You could have been killed simply because I lack the ability to bridle my tongue."

"It's not your fault," he whispered, "You have every right to be angry. I had no idea how thoroughly the priests prey upon the people. It explains much about your feelings." He watched her face as she deftly wiped away the sand from his abraded face. "Why did you never tell me that you had a brother?" he wondered softly.

Though she did not pause in her task Tutankhamun felt her fingers tremble against his skin. "What was there to say? He is passed on into the afterlife now. He is at peace."

"What happened to him?"

"It was a Mitanni attack," she explained hoarsely, "He was fatally injured in the raid while trying to protect our women. He was only fifteen and he died of his injuries three days later. You actually remind of him a great deal. You have a heart like his."

Their eyes met in a charged stare. "So...are...are you saying that you love me as a brother?"

"I'm saying that I love you," she confessed softly, "The end."

Overwhelmed by her confession, Tutankhamun scooted closer and framed her face with his hands. He had every intention of kissing her and would have if the quiet rustling of her mother at the back of the tent didn't startle them apart. Suhad, once again, turned her attention towards cleaning his wounds but the atmosphere between them following her revelation had irrevocably changed.

Their eyes never left one another as she went on to explain in a whisper, "That is the reason I reacted as I did last night when you said...when you told me..."

He leaned his forehead into hers with a serrated sigh. "It was a shock. I understand. I should have told you sooner but I did not know how."

"That's not an excuse for my reaction. I asked you for the truth and you obliged me. You shouldn't be punished for that." She turned her attention to the open cuts that skimmed the ridges of his knuckles. "I suppose it wouldn't be quite so painful if I didn't feel for you as I do."

He whispered her name, nudged her chin gently until she met his stare. "Your feelings are reciprocated, you know? I love you, Suhad, more than I imagined I could love anyone."

"So where does that leave us?"

"I don't know yet."

Suhad released a despondent sigh at his answer and began applying salve to the broken skin on his hands. "My father is right, you know. We will be punished for what happened today. I've managed to worsen matters for my family rather than making them better."

"There will be punishment, Suhad," Tutankhamun promised, "But not for you or your family. I swear to you that priest and all who are like him will answer for what he's done today."

"Not even the Pharaoh himself could make such a promise, Khaten," she replied with a rueful smile, "How can you?"

"The Pharaoh would never allow this to continue were he fully aware of the situation. He will make a change."

The steely conviction in his words had Suhad surveying him with speculative eyes. "You sound so certain of that."

"I am certain."

Before she could question him further on the reason behind his conviction, her father ducked inside the tent. He leveled Tutankhamun with a displeased glare, his jaw set tight. "Does the palace have any intention of relieving our suffering here or must we continue to bleed?"

"Father, don't!" Suhad interjected sharply, "He's not to blame for what happened out there!"

"And yet he languishes here while the kingdom is in upheaval and a new pharaoh is soon to be crowned."

Tutankhamun snapped upright, his entire body suddenly rigid with tension. "What new pharaoh?"

"Have you not heard? Pharaoh Tutankhamun did not return from battle with the Mitanni. His body was never recovered. Now General Horemheb's second in command, Pharaoh's Tutankhamun's boyhood friend Ka shall be made ruler in his place."

Suhad gasped, feeling her entire body go numb with her father's revelation because, after pressing Khaten for answers for so long, it seemed she finally had them...and the truth was nothing for which she'd been prepared. It couldn't be, she balked in her heart. The possibility seemed almost beyond comprehension but, when she began to mediate on bits and pieces she had come to learn about the young man before her, it all made sense...especially Khaten's guarded reluctance to share anything about himself. She whipped a darting glance filled with disbelief to Tutankhamun's face. He would not look at her directly but in that moment the guilt in his eyes betrayed him.

"Khaten?" she whispered, "Is it true? Are you him?"

He flinched at the question but deliberately ignored her for the moment, keeping his focus on her father instead. "When is this coronation to take place? Do you know?"

The older man shook his head. "I only know that there are rumors that a marriage is the take place between Ka and the queen and that it is to be soon and that the royal guard continues to search for the man who betrayed Pharaoh Tutankhamun."

Unable to bear another word confirming Ka's and, apparently, his sister's betrayal and recognizing that his window of opportunity was growing smaller and smaller with each passing second, Tutankhamun stumbled to his feet. "I must go now." He made a hasty exit from the tent, not at all surprised when he detected Suhad's footfalls thumping after him.

"Wait! Wait," she called, scrambling after him, determinedly quickening her pace when he quickened his, "Khaten, wait, please! Stop and face me!" When he showed no intention of slowing his retreat or even acknowledging her cries, Suhad entreated, "My lord king, I pray you do not walk away from me now!"

While nothing else had stopped him, that statement had him spinning back to face her. "Do not call me that!" he bit out.

"But it's true, isn't it? You really are him...you really are Pharaoh Tutankhamun."

He dropped his eyes and confirmed her query with a terse nod of assent. "Yes...I am he."

Suhad stumbled back a step, staggered by the weight of the reveal. "Why...why didn't you tell me? This entire time...all those things I've said to you..."

"I didn't want you looking at me the way you do now, the way I've been looked at my entire life," he uttered in a mournful tone, "You speak so plainly with me. I have come to value your wisdom more than you know. I did not want to lose that, Suhad."

"Wisdom," she scoffed tearfully, "I've been impudent and disrespectful in my pharaoh's presence. I've maligned your character again and again. Is that not punishable by death?"

"Your Pharaoh forgives you," he replied with a wry smile.

But Suhad found no humor in his rejoinder. "It's not a joke! I'm not even allowed to touch you."

He closed the distance between them then, reaching out to caress her face tenderly. "But you already have," he whispered, "Please don't let this change anything between us. It doesn't have to."

"You're wrong," she whispered grimly, "It changes everything."