A/N: Regarding 'Maibe' I've always mentally pronounced it 'Mai-buh', but according to babynamespedia (dot) com (slash) meaning (slash) Maibeit's actually pronounced 'Meyb'. Go figure.

7. The First Signs of Losing Control

Meeting you was fate, becoming your friend was a choice, but falling in love with you I had no control over. – Anonymous.

"Téana!" Seren greeted her with such open delight that Téana's mood immediately lifted. "We were worried! Jono said you must've fallen into an open latrine pit and drowned."

"Oh he did, did he?"

Behind Seren, Jono scrubbed at the back of his head. "I, uh, might've said something like that. But you didn't and you're back now, even if you did take forever. Did you do what you were supposed to?"

"Of course." Téana handed the dye she had bought to Hopki.

"It's for the tribute to the new Pharaoh," Seren babbled. "Everyone has to give one. I'm giving him my new basket. Would you like to see it? Hopki says it's the best he's ever seen from a beginner. I hope the Pharaoh likes it too. What do you think he'll keep in it? It's not completely waterproof, but you could still put fish in it or things like that. Or maybe he could keep linen in it – only I suppose he has people who take care of that sort of thing for him. I'd be happy even if the Pharaoh's servants used my basket, as long as it was useful to someone." She hardly paused for breath. Téana barely recognised her as the mousy little thing who used to cower in her tent and rely on Jono for everything.

"Téana," Maibe came up to them. "Could you come and taste this for me? Seren, clear away your things now. Jono, you can help with this since you made so much mess with that eyesore you call a basket."

"Hey!" he protested.

"Are you telling me that thing isn't an eyesore?"

Téana chuckled and went with Maibe to the dome-shaped clay oven where a fire crackled and slowly baked several round bread rolls. On a flat surface nearby Maibe had made small twists of mashed dates, cinnamon, almonds and walnuts stuck together with honey. She broke one in half and handed it to Téana, who bit in and groaned at the wonderful taste. She hadn't realised how hungry she was and greedily finished it in three bites.

"Good?" Maibe asked.

"Wonderful; but why do I get the feeling you didn't actually want my opinion on your cooking?"

Maibe laughed and bit into the other half of the twist. She knew she was a good cook. It was why she always ended up taking care of the food. "You had a very odd look on your face when you came in. I thought you might appreciate the privacy to talk about it. You keep too many of your worries inside. It's not healthy."

Téana hesitated. Maibe was a straight-talker with a lot of common sense. Téana respected her opinion. If anyone could offer practical advice in a situation as odd as this, it was Maibe.

"I was … talking to a scribe at the market," she admitted.

"Oh?"

"Well, not a full scribe. An apprentice. Someone about my age who's studying to be a scribe someday."

"I know what an apprentice is. And this caused you to look like you'd been kicked in the head by a camel?"

"Yes. No. Not quite." Téana sighed. "It's complicated. More complicated than it should be."

Maibe regarded her critically. "Was this scribe male or female?"

"Male."

"First meeting?"

"Second. He was the person I talked to the day we arrived – you remember when I went looking for food and didn't come back for ages?"

"Oh, I remember. Jono was all in favour of looking for you with his spear and his sword out. He was practically climbing the walls until you came back. Seren and I had to hold him down to make him stay where you'd agreed to meet us. I wasn't too pleased with you either, until you said you'd been trading for information that could help us hide without being detected."

"I did say that, didn't I? Well, I didn't exactly … trade for that information. Ammon gave it freely, once he figured out I wasn't an assassin sent to murder the new Pharaoh or a street thief out to rob people. But … I had to tell him some things about myself first to convince him. And I … didn't lie."

"How many things?" Maibe asked warily.

"I never mentioned you, Jono or Seren, but … pretty much everything else."

Maibe didn't fly into a rage the way Jono would have. Her face was unreadable, however. "And you saw him again today?"

"Yes."

"Had he told anyone what you told him?"

"He swore he didn't."

"And you believe him?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Téana shrugged uncomfortably. "It was nearly a week ago and nothing's happened to us since then. He seems … trustworthy. Honourable." She lowered her voice. "Nice."

Maibe popped the last part of the honey twist into her mouth, chewed thoughtfully and swallowed. "You took a huge risk."

"You have to believe me when I say it couldn't be helped. Well, not the first time." She decided not to mention the part where Ammon had held a knife to her throat. If she was trying to give Maibe a good impression of him, information like that wouldn't help.

"Which means it wasn't the second time. Téana, I'll be frank. Judging by your expression and not only what you just told me, but the way you told me, I can guess some of what you're thinking about this scribe boy. I'm not an idiot and neither are you, so you have to know we can't afford to think about anyone like that. For one thing we may not be here after the moon waxes full and you'll probably never see him again if we leave the city. For another, a scribe is usually someone of noble birth. He'd never take a wanderer for his wife. If he's given you any encouragement but doesn't intend to marry you, he's only interested in using you for … other reasons." She loaded her words with extra meaning that reminded Téana of an elder tribeswoman's explanations of womanhood, monthly cycles and where babies come from.

"Ammon's not like that!" Téana said vehemently.

Maibe levelled a look at her. "How do you know?"

"I just … I just know!"

"Did your gifts tell you?"

"No, I just know he'd not like …" Téana searched for the worst person she could think of; Ammon's total opposite. The answer was blindingly obvious. "Ammon isn't anything like Usi."

Yet Maibe remained unconvinced. "That's not good enough. Remember, you're not just gambling with your own life, you're gambling with ours. Think about Seren and Jono. What would it do to them if you took a chance on this Ammon character and something bad happened to you? And I don't just mean the loss of your gifts. We're not like the Elders; we don't only think about you in terms of what you can do for us. I mean what would it do to them – and me – if this boy hurt you. Or worse."

"I know. I know. Why else do you think I looked like – how did you put it?"

Maibe smirked. "Like you'd been kicked in the head by a camel."

"This is one complication I did not need. But Maibe, I can't … I've never been like this with anyone before. I don't know how to deal with … I just can't stop thinking about him. I've only met him twice, but he keeps running around my thoughts like a goat tied to a pole. I know it doesn't make any sense, and it's wrong, but I still …" Her hands clenched and unclenched. "I don't know what to do," she said in a small voice. "My inner eye doesn't help. I have no idea what I'm supposed to do. I should be concentrating on Usi's hunting party, fitting in here, preparing Seren for when she loses her sight, helping Jono to cope with that too, plus a hundred and one other things, but my thoughts keep going back to Ammon. I've never had to deal with this sort of thing before. I've never felt like this before. You know how it was in the tribe."

Maibe nodded. In age-old tradition, the Elders picked out a suitable husband for every girl who reaching childbearing age. Usually they chose young men who had proven themselves in the Warrior Test, or older warriors who had lost their wives to childbirth, disease, animal attack or raiders from other tribes. That way they ensured that the next generation would be full of equally skilled boys to keep the tribe strong. People rarely chose their own partners. If they did it was just a happy coincidence that what who they wanted was also what the Elders decreed. Accordingly, nobody really thought about love and happiness within marriage. It was all about which pairs could produce the strongest, healthiest babies, not making each other happy.

Maibe's eyes flicked to the door Jono and Seren had gone through. Téana noticed but didn't say anything. If they were recaptured by Usi, Hondo and Makalani, Maibe would probably be given to one of them as their wife. For someone who had declared she didn't want to marry anyone, it would be like a prison sentence. She would no doubt be punished in other ways as well: ritual scarring to mark her as tainted; the removal of her tongue so she couldn't talk back anymore; her toes and heels would be crushed so she couldn't run away again; these were only some of the ways the tribe had punished wayward women in the past. Even without the disfigurements, Maibe's independent spirit would chafe against a husband, but he would be allowed to punish any rebellion from her with force beyond what was usually permissible. Nobody would defend her, even if he chose to beat her near to death. Eventually the fire that burned so brightly in her would wither and die – or she would. Téana didn't need to see the future to know Maibe would become a husk of her former self. The thoughts only added to her confusion about Ammon. There was so much at risk if her faith in him proved wrong.

"Things are different in this city," she said, averting her eyes from Maibe's. "I don't know how it's supposed to go – courting and marriage and whatever. I've already been wrong about some of the customs and how they live here. I can't pretend like I know anything about their courtship rituals and how they compare to the tribe's. I just know that I … like Ammon. A lot."

"After only meeting him twice?"

"I know it sounds foolish but … there is no but. It sounds foolish because it is foolish. I sound foolish because I'm foolish. This whole thing is , what am I supposed to do?"

"About what?" Jono chose that moment to reappear. "Hey, Maibe, I think the bread's burning."

Maibe cursed and was immediately distracted. Seren and Hopki arrived after Jono, putting an end to the conversation until after everyone was finished eating.

Afterwards, Maibe drew Téana to one side where the others couldn't hear them. "I'm not sure what you want me to say about … what we were talking about before," she murmured.

"I want you to tell me what I should do."

Maibe shook her head. "I can't do that. I was thinking about it while we were eating. I said it was useless for you to think about this Ammon boy as anything more than an acquaintance. To be honest, even counting him as a friend is risky. But your eyes and the way you talk tell me I've missed the caravan if I tell you not to let yourself think of him that way. So, after consideration, I can tell you this much: this is a new life for all of us, Téana. We aren't bound by the rules of the tribe anymore. The Elders aren't here to make decisions for you and nobody else can either. You have to learn to use your own mind, not just your inner eye. No, don't look at me that way. You spend so much time examining what you see with your second sight that you don't appreciate what your first sight is telling you."

"Because I don't understand either of them."

"I think you do. I think you understand perfectly, you just don't like it that it scares you. That's natural. But be careful about measuring the depth of your feelings. Don't mistake what might be infatuation for something else. Remember, until Usi's party is taken care of we're all living on eggshells. Being away from the tribe means we can't count on anything being permanent like we used to. Everything could change in a heartbeat. Make of that what you will, but you need to ask yourself how much you really know about Ammon. I'm an advocate of a woman being able to make her own choices and not be bound by just the roles she's always held just because she's always held them, and I like what I've heard about the court here in the city – why shouldn't a woman be a scribe, or a priest, or anything else she wants to be? A woman who knows her own mind and heart should be allowed to use them to make her own path in life. Just be aware that there's more at stake than just you and your feelings, Téana, however confusing or clear they are."

"Definitely confusing," said Téana. "So what are you saying? That I should stay away from Ammon and try to forget about him in case he endangers us all?"

"That's not what I said. I'm telling you that you should make your own decisions, but they should be informed decisions. I trust your judgment. Jono and Seren do, too. You're more than just our guide, Téana, you're our friend. You shouldn't call yourself foolish; you're not a fool. Whatever you decide to do, we'll support you in whatever way we can. That's what friends do."

Téana's eyes filled with tears. "Thank you, Maibe."

"Don't cry. You'll make your kohl run and it was a pain to put on you since you wriggle so much when anything touches your eyelids."

A tiny laugh bubbled up in her throat. "Do you think it's even possible to feel so attached to someone after only two meetings and it's not just infatuation?"

"That depends on what you mean by 'attached'."

"I mean … I mean …" Téana fumbled for words she had no idea how to summon, or even recognise if they did come to her. "I mean … attached."

"Perhaps that's the question you should answer before any others." Maibe withdrew, leaving Téana to consider her thoughts and feelings on her own.

"I told you, one of these days you're going to get caught."

Atem irritably waved Mana away, but she wasn't to be dissuaded.

"So are you going to stop sneaking out or what? Priest Seto nearly had a fit when he couldn't find you this afternoon. Not even Ra's wrath could compare to him when he's in a mood."

"Don't be so disrespectful."

"Pish-posh." She perched on the table he was slumped across, arms folded under his chin and his scribing forgotten. "I still don't get what you find so fascinating about the city – at least the parts you like to visit. You never go to the upmarket districts. Where you go it's all smelly and dirty and yucky."

"People are people wherever you go. Not everyone can live in the palace."

Mana shifted so she was sitting on her hands and kicked her heels outwards in a staccato rhythm. "You haven't even apologised for getting me into trouble."

"You don't need my help to get into trouble."

"Well that's ungrateful! And after I stuck my neck out for you, too. Priest Seto really yelled at me when I pretended I didn't know where you were. If Mahaad hadn't arrived and calmed him down you'd be finding pieces of me scattered around the palace grounds. If not for me, Priest Seto would have sent his own guards out to find you and they would've torn the city apart until they found you. He was convinced you'd been kidnapped."

Atem tilted his head sideways so he was looking up at her. "So whose guards was I avoiding when I made my way back here?"

"Didn't you look at their insignia?"

"I had other things on my mind."

Mana frowned. "They were Priest Isis's. I met her when I was running away … erm, I mean excusing myself from Priest Seto's presence. She asked me what he and Mahaad were arguing about. When I told her she got all serious and ordered her guards into the city without even stopping to pull those two apart the way she usually does when they're acting like squabbling children. For some reason she was convinced you were in trouble and at the marketplace."

"Well she was half right."

"Meh. Right or wrong, she's now more certain than ever that her Millennium Necklace is broken."

"A Millennium Item can't be 'broken'."

"Why not? Chariot wheels break. Horseshoes break. Stone breaks. Heck, everything in the world breaks eventually – including hearts, minds, spells and morals. Why not a Millennium Item?"

"Because …" Atem stopped. Ha! She had him there. "Because they're sacred," he said at last, as if that explained everything. "My father made them. They can't just break."

"Well Priest Isis disagrees. She said she's going to ask Priest Akhenaten about it. He'll probably want to examine all the Items before the crowning ceremony."

Atem pressed his face against his inner arm.

Mana's voice became softer. She actually reached out to stroke his hair like she used to when they were kids and would fall asleep in each other's arms. More than once they had been brought down from trees, pulled out of giant urns, or unearthed from some other hiding place and not stir because they had exhausted themselves from playing. All her happiest memories were of Atem and Mahaad when they were children, when adult responsibilities were still a lifetime away.

Now Mahaad was a Priest, Atem was about to become Pharaoh, and as for Mana herself … well, she was locked in a struggle between becoming an adult and fighting it every step of the way. It hurt that these days there was no chance of the three of them playing like they used to. Mahaad had become so staid and serious. If she tried to curl up in Atem's arms and fall asleep now people would get completely the wrong idea. Even if she and her lineage had been suitable queen material, she just didn't see Atem that way. He was more like her brother – an annoying brother. Where did he get off, mooning about like this when he had set out looking so chirpy this morning? She still didn't like the idea of him running around the city like an assassination looking for somewhere to happen. Yet he had been so much happier since the last time he went out. She had been so glad to have the old Atem back she had ignored the dangers that threatened every time he stepped outside the palace without his bodyguards.

Now, however, Atem was back to looking like a hippo with a thorn in its backside and Mana had no idea why. Unfair! It wasn't even about his father this time, which left her completely stumped about what the problem could be. Atem seemed to have reconciled himself with his upcoming responsibilities after his last outing. He had come back to the palace talking about the new world he was going to create. He had even mooted the possibility of making links between the empire and the nomad tribes, for Ra's sake. He had been so fired up and ready to go, only to stall now and fall back into another depression. Had the enormity of the task he had set himself overwhelmed him? Mana wanted to help, but aside from what she had already been doing since Pharaoh Akhenamkhanen died, she didn't know how.

"You're truly not looking forward to the ceremony, are you?"

"Do I have to answer that?" Atem replied without raising his head.

"It'll be fun. You'll see. Once you're Pharaoh properly you can start making laws and changing things around here so they're the way you want them in your 'new world'. First off, you can tell Priest Seto to lighten up and take up a hobby other than scouring the country for evil to destroy. He's completely obsessed with that. It's not healthy."

"Priest Seto is a loyal and valuable member of the court."

"And I'm not? Remember who's been covering for you all this time. You owe me and Priest Seto hates me, so it all balances out. If he has a hobby he'll stop picking on me for cluttering up the place or distracting you from your duties. He could take up bird-keeping or something. Yeah, he could have a menagerie."

Atem made a noncommittal noise.

Mana it her lower lip. "Listen, Atem, can you promise me something?"

"That depends on what it is."

"Don't go out again before the crowning ceremony. You really did nearly get caught today. Can you imagine what would happen if people found out what you've been doing? Not to mention what I've been doing. I'd be quartered for sure. Priest Seto would probably see it as treason or something. Plus … I worry about you. Not that I believe what Priest Isis said or anything, but she spooked me today with how certain she was that you were in trouble. I was worried about you. So please, just promise me you'll stay in the palace where it's safe."

"I … I can't promise that. Mana."

She pouted. "Why not?"

"I just can't."

"If you're going to be a good Pharaoh you're going to have to come up with better answers than that." She paused, aware she may have overstepped her boundaries.

Yet Atem didn't appear to have noticed this oblique reference to his father and the legend he had to live up to. He was staring at the palms of his own hands, his expression indecipherable. Even Mana, who knew him so well, couldn't tell what he was thinking.

Is this the way it's going to be from now on? she wondered. Mahaad off doing official things, Atem wrapped up in his own little world, and me left behind by both of them? The idea was unpleasant, as truthful ones often are. Instead of confronting it, however, she took her usual approach of deflecting her thoughts to something more agreeable. "Hey, Atem, would you like to play a game of senet?"

"I have to finish this." He leaned back to look at the papyrus before him.

"Why? As you keep telling me, you're not actually the Pharaoh yet. Take the opportunity to enjoy your freedom, Atem. There will be plenty of time for thinking about consequences of what you do later when you have a crown on your head. Well," she corrected, "a bigger crown than the prince one you're already wearing. For now, just enjoy yourself and do what you want. It's your life, after all."

Atem stared at her. It was a penetrating stare that actually made Mana a little uncomfortable.

"Uh, Atem? Did I say something wrong?"

"No," he said quietly. "No, you said something remarkably perceptive."

"I did? I mean, of course I did. I've been telling you for years that I'm intellectually gifted. That's why I don't have to study as hard as you – everything just comes naturally to me."

He smirked. "I'm sure. Does that include talent at senet?"

Mana grinned. Victory! "Try me. I'll massacre you like always."

"I seem to remember that I won the last seventeen games we played."

"Your memory is as defective as the Millennium Necklace. C'mon and I'll prove to you who's the better player. They don't call me the queen of games for nothing."

"Nobody calls you the queen of games."

"Details, details."

To Be Continued …

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