Chapter 20
A sliver of silver glistened in the moonlight- and it wasn't the moon. The clang of steel against steel answered what it was.
Under Menet's tutoring, Kahmunrah grew more sullen. He no longer saw Seti, despite the latter's recent frequent attempts at contact. Had the prince wished, he could have wandered down to the scribe halls and observed Seti's training, but his mind darkened, and his feet urged him towards the dry dankness of Menet's chambers. Truth be told, he was avoiding him.
Clang, clang! Kahmunrah's arms stung from the hours of effort, but he ground his teeth and pushed on recalling all that had past. Ahkmenrah rarely left his bedchambers anymore, not that he blamed him. Correction- he did blame him! Ahkmenrah was his brother, bred to be by his side. Yet he had abandoned him, they all had. Now he'd be enjoying the pleasures of kingship, complete with assassinations, lust, and gods knew what else. All without baby brother.
Yet he felt lighthearted at the notion of Ahk somehow escaping all that, for he knew in his heart of hearts out of the two of them, Kahmunrah was the most suited. Kahmunrah could handle the abuse, neglect, the scandals and wars. Ahkmenrah could not, for his heart was too tender. Finally pausing to mop his brow, Kahmunrah looked upwards and jerked back, startled, as he beheld a starlit sky. Was it truly so late already? Mother would be most anxious for him... Time to go.
He checked his surroundings without really looking. There were at least twenty guards surrounding him nowadays- why bother to maintain his training? But he could not stop, would not stop- it was all he had of himself left. The only thing they couldn't take away from him.
Clang! Clang!
0o0
"You are doing it again," Shepseheret sighed. Her gentle gaze was serene and mocked sternness, but it couldn't disguise her concern.
Merenkahre blushed, appearing nonchalant as he replied, "Nonsense! I am only tired, my love. You know my stamina is not what it once was."
"Is that why your hand trembles so?"
Both looked down at the offending limb, which as if on cue, shook even harder. He clamped down on it with his good hand, grimacing from mortification.
"The physician's treatments should improve one's condition, not worsen it," Shepseheret glowered.
"We both know they have done all they can!" He snapped back. She raised her eyebrow, and he was instantly chastised. "I am sorry, it's just-"
She hugged him against her chest as a mother would a wayward infant. "I know," she murmured as he sobbed. "I know."
"Could you be training any harder?" Ahkmenrah leaned against the stable doorway. "Are you preparing for the upcoming triathelon? You would win."
Kahmunrah stopped long enough to glare at him. "You could always join me; this dummy is wearing out. Want to test yourself as you did that day?"
Ahkmenrah merely stood silently. He'd walked into that one, he knew he had, but it still stung. His brother had seen him fight, had watched him improve. He'd save his life, for gods' sake! Why did he still insist on mocking him, making him feel smaller than the tiniest ant? "I am still sore from our last session."
"Of course you are. Baby brother always gets a pass."
"What do you mean by that?"
"You know precisely what I mean."
Ahkmenrah's shoulders slumped forward. "I never know what will set you off."
"You do. Always have, always will."
No, it was better not to engage with Kahmunrah when he was in such a temper. Once, training was his passion; now, it felt like it was something else altogether. Something that was not necessarily healthy. He wished he would stop once in a while to look at the stars above him again, or at least pause sometimes.
What had happened? Their father was ill, but that was all the more reason to be together, support each other. Ahkmenrah was more than willing to help Kahmunrah in every way he could, but he was no longer blind to how one-sided that help was. Were Kahmunrah's feelings mutual? Or was he still only 'baby brother'?
Little did he know their troubles were only just beginning.
Menet slouched over his scrolls. All those years of searching, all that time, wasted! There was nothing he hadn't tried, nothing he hadn't endured to attain total domination. Even tutoring the eldest, though such a task would naturally have fallen to him, was not an accident- if he could train Kahmunrah's mind, especially now, he would either have gained a decent ally... or have made him malleable enough to destroy. A victory in any case.
Now to ensure this... Egyptian chanting. "My brother lives still. To think the gods may finally be working in my favor! Never would have hoped a natural ailment would tear him down..." It was almost enjoyable to watch! Then, memories unbidden slipped into his mind: him and Merenkahre running through the gardens, Merenkahre giggling when 'caught.' How could he have once believed a tree trunk was adequate enough protection? Them training beside each other, even fighting together in a minor skirmish. Menet shook his head. Such recollections would not serve him. All he required was one, a single memory of the day when what once was his had been torn away from him by the person he had loved most.
"How could you?"
Merenkahre looked down into his lap, unable to answer.
"How. Could. You?!" Menet thundered.
The teenager flinched away from him, though the latter hadn't raised a finger- his voice was harmful enough. "I-I did not mean to."
"You knew I had told you in confidence! You knew what would happen if anyone found out!" His own heart beat a thousand hoof beats a minute, racing towards a level of rage and terror he'd never believed existed. "So why in Horus's name did you think to tell Father?"
"I did not! It was Sakim!"
"So you told the Grand Vizier. Even better." The results would be the same; he knew they would be. He turned away from his brother's pleading gaze, for he knew that if he kept facing him, those eyes would be torn from their sockets. He physically held his trembling hands to restrain them from the attack.
"H-he promised he would not tell! How could I have known-"
"Are you an infant? Every person wants our position; everyone covets the throne!" His own brother, no longer young enough to forget, old enough- or so he'd thought- to understand politics. Or perhaps he did, much better than Menet himself had ever realized. Yes, this was the only explanation. "You lied to me."
"What?! No!"
"I see it now, I see it all now! You knew me well enough, waited long enough to overpower me, unshield me, make me vulnerable. Yes, this is it..."
"No, Menet, I swear to the gods!"
"Do not use the gods' names in vain. Especially not before me." Menet glared down at the quacking Merenkahre. How could he never have seen this coming?
"Menet, please! You know our parentage never meant anything to me! I do not care who your mother was!" Merenkahre dared approach his seething sibling.
"Father does," Menet replied coldly.
"We were raised by the same kind, loving woman. She would never have wanted to see us like this!" Menet had not even felt it when he unclasped his hands and pulled back his arm...
Merenkahre had been equally unprepared for the slap that followed. It was strong enough to knock him into the wall, leaving him slumped to the ground. Only then, did he finally understand what he had done.
"We are no longer children, Merenkahre. And I cannot forgive as if I were one." His echoing, shameful, heated footsteps followed him back to his chambers.
Ah yes. That was the day Menet learned the true definition of family. A lesson he intended to teach Kahmunrah before it was too late. In spite of his original schemes, he'd grown moderately tolerant of the heir. If he proved useful, he could live. And his son was surprisingly fond of Kahmunrah; he'd never counted on that, but what was there was undeniable. Seti hid it well, but Menet had observed him pining, gazing longingly after Kahmunrah while the latter trained. Especially when Kahmunrah trained. He could accept his only child being husband of the king. Yes, that could work quite nicely...
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