Age of Majesty
Chapter 2
" All pay heed!" Cried the soldier, announcing to the city about the tournament. " Orders from his greatness, our Pharaoh, that there shall be starting ten days before midsummer night a contest of skill and strategy..."
" He will come obscured." Seto had told Atemu as they planned. " He is a thief, after all, and wanted throughout the nation. He will come obscured, possibly with a hood, possibly with his hair dyed. Nevertheless, he will come, and he will seek to find the prize in the palace without going through the contest first. However, he would want to play as well, just to gloat at how he defeated us later on, so he will leave the prize where he finds it until the day of the finals."
" Are you sure he will last so long?" Atemu had asked.
" Perhaps. We shall suppose he does for now. It is, after all, a likely possibility." Seto replied, coughing harshly. He paused for a moment, exhausted. Atemu looked at him apologetically, but Seto bravely pushed on. " On the day of the finals he will plan to steal the prize. Most likely if he wins he will immediately try to escape. His plan will be to reveal it to the public after he is well away from the law, that way he is both safe and victorious. We shall have to stop him before then."
" Indeed."
" The fact that he will not steal the prize when he finds it is very important." Seto continued. " This means we must practice a similar hand. We should post guards that act as regular guards to prevent the prize from being stolen, but we should also post guards that act only as watchers. Because he will not steal the prize, we can afford to place these guards in locations that guards would not normally be posted, because they are not expected to act should any situation arise. Therefore, since the Thief is well practiced in avoiding obstacles that may threaten him, he will not realize these particular guards since they will not threaten him directly."
" Therefore showing us his alias." The Pharaoh marvelled.
Out on the streets, the announcer continued listing the information of the tournament, with a huge crowd gathering around. Most were merely peasants, poor lower class people with no means of learning what was necessary to attend the duel. Some, however, were scholars, scribes, who had some education in the Shadow Magic. In the midst of the crowd the Thief King listened with growing interest as the announcer revealed the final prize. There was gold, yes, but also a title: the King of Games. The winner will receive a seal bearing the insignia of the King of Games, and will be honored throughout the country and will even be called upon in the Pharaoh's court.
A strange prize. Bakura thought. it was not only far grander than any contest called for, but distinctly odd. The title was very obscure, and seemed to hint at privileges not normally given to any random individual. Called upon in the Pharaoh's court? Is that supposed to mean there was a position available as one of his advisors?
" My poor health is unfortunately known throughout the land." Seto had explained to Atemu when he suggested the prize. " It is obvious that it is getting worse, and no one else will question why you may wish to find another priest."
" Seto, do not speak that way."
" My Pharaoh, I speak the truth, and this is far more important than my well-being–"
" Seto!"
Seto bowed his head, coughing. " We speak purely for strategic purposes, cousin."
" You know how dangerous words can be."
" You must use every advantage you have, my Pharaoh. It is not just a tournament. This is a secret war. A war you must win at all costs. My fate has been sealed from the start. We look to you now."
Of course. The famous High Priest Seto, son of Akunadin. The wretch was well known for his great power and intelligence, but even more famous for his ill health. As a royal nephew of the court it had been a great grief to the Pharaoh's family when the child had taken ill again and again and again. He had been a favourite of the court, though, and apparently that has not saved him. Doubtless the priest had taken ill again, this time far more serious than before, and the Pharaoh is looking for a replacement. And of course, he would not directly announce it as long as the priest is still alive because that will inspire more intrigues than he would like.
Grinning devilishly, Bakura turned around as the crowd dispersed. How ironic it would be for the one to take the High Priest's place be the very Thief King himself, the outlaw and enemy of the kingdom. It would certainly raise his reputation as the craftiest fiend in existence. this will outway his elusiveness from the guards for the past five years. Even if he does end up getting caught, which he did not intend to allow, he will still be known throughout the land as the one who tricked his way into court and lived to tell about it. And who knows, maybe he would even get the Millennium Rod.
If he lived to tell about it. The Pharaoh's magic rivalled all, but there was nothing Bakura liked more than a good challenge, no matter how impossible. His life had been impossible. He had seen impossible things happen, some of which had been his own doing. And there is nothing more impossible than outwitting the Pharaoh himself, right to his face.
oO
High Priest Seto was well versed in the healing arts, as all priests were, but when a priest himself is sick he requires the labor of another healer. Seto reclined on the bed as the healer felt his pulse.
" How is he?" Mahaado asked.
The healer shook his head. " He may recover, given he is allowed plenty of rest, but it is far more serious than is common at this time of the year."
Mahaado stepped forward and took Seto's pulse himself. Seto coughed violently, looking up at Mahaado.
" You better not use any Shadow Magic." Mahaado warned. " Luckily your plan involves you staying out of the open."
" Hm." Seto grunted, which choked up a mouthful of phlegm. He grimaced at it in his hand. Mahaado handed him a handkerchief.
" You should rest, my friend." Mahaado suggested.
" I think if I rest any more my head will explode." Seto complained. He was literally tired of sleeping. Mahaado chuckled, though his smile turned into a frown as Seto kept coughing.
" What to do with you," the priest sighed as he saw the healer out of the room. Normally Seto would have asked for everyone to leave, since pneumonia was contagious, but it seemed he was too preoccupied to think about it. Or perhaps he was hoping that Mahaado would stay anyway.
" The Pharaoh worries for you." Mahaado told him. " He sighes during court, and we know he wishes you were there."
" I wish the same." Seto coughed. He was wheezing. " My chest hurts."
It was not often that Seto complained about his illnesses, since they were so frequent it was hardly something to acknowledge any longer. Mahaado looked at him grimly. " You wish for me to use magic?"
Seto shook his head. " I think if I cough any more my lungs will fall out. I am getting dizzy."
Mahaado reached out and sent the magical spell to Seto to ease his coughing and sniffling. Once that was done Seto sighed in relief.
" It should last a good five hours."
" It is a reprieve nonetheless."
Mahaado smiled grimly.
Seto sighed. " If I leave the capital I will die."
It was not something Mahaado doubted. " I am certain the Pharaoh will assure that will never happen."
Seto shook his head and kept shaking it, even though it seemed to tire him. " It is not always his choice."
Mahaado gritted his teeth a little. " What is it?" He demanded suddenly. " Do you foresee your death somehow?"
Seto looked at him sadly. " It is not foresight, no." He fell quiet.
Mahaado understood. It was his instincts. Something bad will happen. To Seto, anyway.
" You have friends here." Mahaado suddenly told him fiercely. " You have family here. We will not let anything happen to you."
Seto smiled faintly. His eyes drifted down, fluttering a little, but he kept them open. Mahaado knew he did not really want to sleep yet.
" The Pharaoh will be seeing you soon." Mahaado told him. He felt a little bad. The Pharaoh's visit always made people anxious, no matter how close they were to him. It was the same with any Pharaoh, and Atemu was no different. He wondered if Atemu even knew about the strain he was causing on the priest. " He is overlooking the preparations for the tournament."
Seto nodded. " Alright."
" You come up with the craziest things." Mahaado grinned. Seto smiled back.
" As long as they work. Let's hope this one does. It is not without its risks, after all."
oO
" You will lead the attacks." Bakura told his second in command, Senmut. " You make sure they think it's my handiwork."
It was alright to tell the rest of his thieves about his plans. Bakura was the only member with enough Shadow Magic to even think about participating in such a tournament. However if the tournament started and there were suddenly no raids, the Pharaoh may or may not suspect, but Bakura did not want to chance that he does.
Taking a bowl of paste, Bakura smeared it on his face to darken his skin. He was leaving that night, and making his way to the capital. By the time the tournament starts he should arrive.
" Good luck." Senmut said. Bakura sneered at him.
" I don't need any luck." Bakura turned to dye his hair black. " Get my cloak and bags. I head off in an hour."
Once his hair was dry Bakura put on his cloak and slung his bag over his shoulder. Outside the thieves prepared an Arabian for him. The horse was stolen, of course, but it was of a noble breed, with the wide forehead and tapered snout and eyes set far apart. She was a mare, fleet of foot, and very durable in the harsh weather. Bakura mounted her and she stamped her feet nervously.
" We await the good news, sir." Senmut bowed. Bakura did not bother responding. Instead he turned the mare's head with a tug of his reins and kicked at her sides, forcing her into a gallop. He had a lot of road to cover.
It was about a week-long trip. Bakura had enough provisions to last him three days. The rest of the time he would have to eat in restaurants and possibly stay in inns. Even though thieves were dishonorable, they would not steal if there were no spending involved, and Bakura was content to spend a few pieces for room and dining in order to win this challenge.
The night was cold in the desert village. On the fourth day Bakura stopped at the inn. He ordered a room, paid in advance, and ordered some drink and supper. He kept his hood on as he drank his mead, observing and studying everyone in the room as he was used to doing.
The doors banged open and Bakura sensed another shadow user.
" Bartender!" the man hollered. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and very darkly tanned. The bartender was a little shrimp of a man, and nervously came at his call.
" Room for one, best you got." The man ordered.
" Yes, yes sir."
Bakura lowered his eyes as the man passed by, contemplating. He seemed like someone who had valuables to steal, with his haughty attitude. Was it worth a distraction?
Unbelievably, the King of Thieves decided it was not. Never before had he suppressed an urge to steal. Stealing was second-nature to him. However, this time he was not interested. Such a man is probably a numbskull anyway, and stealing from him is hardly a victory of any sort.
He was as the High Priest said. He had pride, ambition, and strategy. Whatever he aims for he must achieve, but he selects his aim due to his pride and ambition. Anything else would not suffice.
" If he wins," Seto told the Pharaoh, " He will trust his disguise to protect him until after the tournament, where we can ensnare him. We can wait until the final match between you, my Pharaoh, and Bakura, for he will not try to escape then. If he lost somehow in the middle of the tournament, that is when we have to be extremely careful not to let him escape. He will not try to steal the title, but he may come after the Rod, or the money. It is most likely he will come after the Rod. So I hand this Rod for you to keep." Saying this, Seto reached for his belt, where the Rod was. Atemu reached out, trying to stop him, because that Rod was the symbol of all that Seto was. Seto shook his head.
" This is for the best. I have no way of defending myself or what I keep, Your Highness. Of all people you are best suited for protecting the Rod at this time. He will not come to you, he will come to my rooms, and once he sees they are not there he will leave for the gold."
" What if he hurts you?"
" He will not hurt me. I am a dead man to him. It will not present enough of a challenge." Seto smiled. " He will head to the gold. You must capture him then. This time, employ a monster to stand guard."
" What monster?"
" The Dark Magician."
" Why?"
" Because he is less easily detected, and less easily eluded."
The man left the inn the next day. Bakura waited about an hour and started off himself, but as he suspected he saw the figure before him and knew the man was heading toward the tournament. Bakura smirked to himself. He was not worried. After all, the tournament was open to all adept shadow magicians. This man was not an obstacle he had to worry about. He will soon defeat him and move ahead in the game.
The King of Games. He licked his lips. Not that bad of a title. And certainly, the reward afterwards, perhaps the Millennium Rod? Even if somehow the High Priest recovered, and the Rod was not given, Bakura will still remain the most infamous thief throughout the land. After all, there are many owners of the Millennium Scepter, but there is only one Bakura.
And that, not some Millennium Item, is what will make history.