Heket walked over and lent her friend a helping hand back to her feet. Unlike Hathor, she wasn’t in a jovial mood. “I hope princess Mosa tells her God to change the river back, it’s making everyone miserable. Especially the slaves since the overseers send us to fetch their water on top of our own.”
“If it leads to our freedom, I’m willing to put up with a short term inconvenience, even if it does sometimes jump out of the water and flick me on the nose,” Hathor responded still laughing a bit. “It beats the hell out of bending over for my meals every other day.”
Hathor strutted back to the vase and calmly reached in and removed the hitchhiker. She paused just before tossing the large frog to the side. “On second thought, I think I’ll hang onto you. Pharaoh probably won’t release us so I’ll be needing a free meal at some point.” With that, she dropped her future meal back into the water, picked up the vase, and continued on her march back to the city.
The two women started ascending what they both hoped was the last sand dune before reaching the city when a low buzzing murmur began to crescendo in their ears. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Are we seriously back at the lake again?” Hathor exclaimed in frustration. “I can’t go on much farther. I told you we were going around in circles, didn’t I?”
“I don’t think we’re back at the lake. This isn’t croaking, it’s buzzing,” Heket said in alarm.
As they approached the peak of the dune, the sky began to fade from blue to gray, to a nearly black haze just above the ground. Hathor gasped when she saw the outlines of tents and the nearly finished pyramid rising high into the sky. She quickly snapped her mouth shut again when a swarm of flies moved straight toward her.
“My god, the city’s consumed with flies,” Heket stammered in disbelief. “We haven’t been gone that long, how could this happen?”
Just then Hathor’s green passenger poked its head out of the water and rapidly snatched a pair of flies right out of the air with its lightning quick tongue. Then it ducked back under the water’s surface only to pop back up again and repeat the procedure.
“I think we have our answer,” Hathor said coolly. “With the frogs gone there’s nothing left to eat the flies and keep them in check. Plus all those dead fish in the river are an ideal place for them to lay eggs.”
“You still think Mosa’s God turning the river to blood was a good thing?” Heket asked.
“I am certainly wishing I brought a few more fly eating frogs home in my water vase,” Hathor responded. “Come on, let’s get inside the tent and see how Emir and the kids are doing with all these bugs.”
When they reached the tent, Hathor put the vase down and untied the front flap to enter the tent. She poked her head in, but was disappointed to find the humble abode empty. Not thinking much of it, she calmly set the large vase inside and tightened the flap down again.
“It’s mid day,” Heket observed, “Why is everyone still working. They should be here, away from the heat to enjoy the break.”
Just then two guards rounded the corner and spotted the pair of women. Normally a set of guards catching two women alone and vulnerable was a bad thing, but since the food server’s murder the random raping was stopped almost completely. Hathor calmed herself with that thought as the two men walked purposefully their way.
“You two get back to work.”
“A thousand pardons, sir, we just returned from the lake with fresh water,” Hathor said contritely.
“Since you did not hear the proclamation, you are excused from punishment this time,” the taller guard said with a commanding voice. “Until the monument is complete, all slaves will work day and night.”
Heket’s jaw dropped open upon hearing the order. “Wait a minute, that doesn’t make any sense. What about sleep, what about eating, what about not having the light of the sun to work by?”
This time the shorter guard spoke up, “You slaves will sleep in shifts next to the work site, food will be delivered and consumed on the job site, and the moon is full and we have plenty of torches. No excuses, woman; now get to work,” he said gruffly as he grabbed Heket by the arm and forcefully ushered her down the row of tents toward the work site.
Hathor followed immediately before the taller guard decided he needed to grab her by the arm, or someplace less comfortable for that matter. As they walked she looked over at her escort and asked meekly, “May I ask, sir, what is the rush to finish all of the sudden?”
Slowly, the guard donned a tortured look as if he was about to burst into tears. Realizing the break in his composure, the man shook his head and straightened himself back into his dominant pose. “The great one has fallen ill. The enchanters have done all they can, but they don’t think he will live through the week.”
“Oh no,” Hathor said while trying to sound as saddened as possible. It was a tough task given the extreme joy she felt upon hearing the news that the architect of her servitude was near death.
“Curse that Mosa,” the tall guard continued as he brushed away the swarm of flies buzzing around his face. “This is all her God’s doing. This place will fall apart without Pharaoh’s guidance. Anubis has promised to take Pharaoh with him when he ascends to the heavens once the pyramid is finished. Then they’ll be able to restore his life force and return him to us so he can finish his great mission. If Pharaoh dies before the journey to the other side, he’ll be lost to us forever.”
“So Pharaoh’s survival hinges on the pyramid being finished before he succumbs to his illness,” Hathor summarized.
“A slave with a brain, remarkable. Mark my words. If the monument isn’t completed in time, every last slave who slacked off during its construction will be executed.” The guard suddenly stopped Hathor and spun her around by the arm so they were face to face.
He snapped his index finger up and pointed it right at Hathor’s nose with a menacing glare. “Every single one, even if I have to hunt you and the rest of them down one by one. So when you think about it, not only is the great one’s life at stake, your own is as well.”
“Then we had better not waste any more time; let’s get to work,” Hathor said to disarm the threatening situation. The guard released his iron grip, and she immediately turned to proceed toward the work site. In the back of her mind, she noted that her feelings about Mosa’s God were now gravitating to Heket’s cynical point of view.
“Damn this battle between the gods,” she uttered beneath her breath. “Can’t they carry on this fight of theirs up in the heavens rather than bringing it down here and dragging us into the middle of it?”
Chapter 35: Holy Cow
Under the watchful eye of two armed guards, four men slowly stalked toward a large bull that stood alone in a field. The animal was huge. On all four legs it stood a head taller than a man, and the long, thick horns atop its head were not to be taken lightly. They stuck out two feet in front of the bull’s head and came to sharp, menacing points that meant business. Normally, the creatures were docile and made perfect beasts of burden to help plow fields, but the absence of food and fresh water for several days now made them . . . moody.
Hastelloy cringed as he heard a dry twig snap causing the bull to raise its head and jump back half a step. The beast didn’t move any farther, but its senses were now focused on the animal’s surroundings and took notice of the four men inching their way closer from the front, back, and both sides.
The captain took his eyes off the target to exchange a look with Valnor and shook his head from side to side in disbelief. The land was completely barren, yet the young man somehow found the one twig to step on and startle their prey.
Tonwen suddenly held his right arm up in the air with a clenched fist. The others stopped immediately and looked to the science officer for further instruction. Tonwen was within five feet of the bull and could make his assessment.
The other crewmen waited anxiously, hoping this would be the one. They’d gone through the same process three different times and each bull so far had d
iseased boils on their flesh and therefore were not fit for consumption. The men were beginning to lose patience.
As time inched by, Hastelloy mentally resigned to seeing Tonwen slowly open his fist, signaling the men to back away. He felt his body weight shift backwards in preparation to leave when Tonwen raised his index finger and pointed twice at the target. Hastelloy’s heart skipped a beat with excitement; the hunt was a go.
Tonwen raised his fingers. Go in four . . . three . . . two . . . one.
In unison the four men carrying spears rushed the animal. Three men hit the mighty beast dead center in the body and buried their spears deep, but Gallono wasn’t able to connect. He had the misfortune of the bull turning to face off against him. Gallono instantly realized the danger, dropped his spear and grabbed hold of the bull’s horns instead.
When the three spears struck, the raw power of the animal went on full display. Enraged by the pain, it snapped its head up and backwards. The sudden motion yanked Gallono clean off his feet. For a moment Hastelloy thought his first officer was going to hold a handstand above the animal’s head while hanging onto the horns until his right hand lost its grip.
Gallono twisted his body as he rotated down and landed with his right arm over the bull’s neck. When his feet touched ground again he instantly released his left hand from the horn and brought it under the bull’s neck, interlocked his arms and held on for dear life.
If the situation weren’t so dangerous, Hastelloy would have laughed at how utterly ridiculous the sight of Gallono holding 2,000 pounds of pissed off bull in a headlock really looked. For its part, the animal clearly didn’t find the situation amusing. It leapt; it kicked, and it twirled around in a tight spin that made Hastelloy want to vomit just from watching.
Suddenly the bull lost its footing and fell onto its side, causing the two spears imbedded on that half of its body to drive all the way through. One of them must have pierced the animal’s heart because the mighty beast let out one last bellow and then dropped its head on top of Gallono’s torso and moved no more. Hastelloy, Valnor and Tonwen kept their distance and simply looked upon the scene in stunned disbelief. Time stood silently still as they waited for any sign of life from Gallono.
“Oh, don’t worry about me. I’m just fine with this thing on top of me. Not like its heavy or anything,” a muffled voice cried out from under the animal’s head.
The three men quickly ran to help. Hastelloy and Valnor each grabbed a horn to lift the head while Tonwen grabbed Gallono by his wrists and dragged him out from under the beast’s remarkably heavy head.
Once Gallono was on his feet again, he dusted himself off and said what was on everyone’s mind, “Holy cow!”
“It is a bull actually,” Tonwen deadpanned back, “but it does have holes in it now.”
“They should make a sport out of that some day,” Gallono said with a relieved chuckle.
Hastelloy was not one to linger on the past so he pressed the men forward with their work. “Tonwen, what’s the prognosis with this one? I certainly hope you ordered the kill with good reason. Otherwise I see Gallono growing very grumpy in the near future.”
Tonwen took a few minutes to look over every square inch of the bull’s pelt just to be sure. Finally he let out a relieved sigh. “I do believe we got one of the last healthy heads of cattle in the city. There is no evidence of the diseased sores anywhere. He was certainly one of the biggest and strongest cattle, so it must have been able to guard the last bits of water in the trough for itself and fend off the others.”
“Survival of the fittest,” Hastelloy commented. “It’s the natural order of things.”
“You just watch, when we get back to camp our reward for a successful hunt will be our very own bowl full of the same tasteless mush,” Gallono sneered. “We risk our lives so the ruling class can eat a fine steak dinner while we eat glorified dirt. That’s also the natural order of things.”
Just then the two guards assigned to watch them on the hunting expedition moved in with their curved swords drawn. The bald, fat one ushered the hunters away from the kill, while the anorexic looking guard signaled for ten other slaves to bring over a large four-wheeled cart.
Together, all fourteen slaves deposited the bull’s enormous frame onto the cart and were immediately on their way to the overseer’s side of the city. Gallono spat towards the overly opulent tent that belonged to Tomal as they pulled the cart past.
Tomal might have taken offense to the gesture if he’d been home, but he was busy erecting the last of his four gigantic obelisk monuments. To say the tall slender objects looked intimidating was a profound understatement. They were simply massive and appeared to almost emanate power from their very core. The spires were a magnificent symbol of the greatness of Egypt, almost as impressive as the pyramid itself.
Hastelloy was surprised to see the cart team escorted past all of the overseer tents and eventually led into Pharaoh’s private compound. Everything else in the city was, in some way, made of sticks with cloth over them. Some tents were large and lavish, while others barely fit a man laying flat on his back. Contrasting these humble shelters stood Pharaoh’s compound; made of stone and wood.
A tall, thick stone wall surrounded a well-kept courtyard that actually sported lush green grass. It was certainly a statement of Pharaoh’s priorities that his people and cattle were dying of thirst, yet he still had a plush lawn to walk on with his bare feet. It was truly amazing observing how quickly the aristocracy in a society could lose touch with realities the common people dealt with on a daily basis.
In the middle of the courtyard stood a somewhat humble palace; relative to the great pyramid at least. The structure stood two stories tall and was basically square in shape with a very stout metal door forming an entrance in the middle of the wall facing the group of men. Protruding from the square structure were two half-moon shaped balconies on the second floor that were supported by brightly painted pillars flanking the front door. Hastelloy had certainly seen more flamboyant royal compounds in his lifetime, but considering the infancy of Pharaoh’s kingdom it was quite impressive.
The group of cart hauling slaves went to the far corner of the compound, behind a thick patch of trees to deposit their cargo at the kitchen house. The business of butchering animals and cooking food was considered unsightly and thus hidden from view as much as possible.
The cart’s hauling crew lugged the massive bull off the cart and managed to drag the beast into the butcher shop, where Pharaoh’s personal chef quickly went to work. The four hunters received no thank you or even an appreciative nod for that matter, they were summarily led away. On their way out of the royal compound, they passed dozens of tables with chairs being positioned around them.
“It looks like they’re planning to throw one heck of a dinner party. You think we’ll be invited for some steaks considering we’re the ones who risked getting impaled by two foot long horns to provide it?” Gallono asked sarcastically.
“I wouldn’t hold your breath,” Hastelloy answered. “Besides, Tomal is bound to be there and the last thing we need right now is for you two to make a scene.”
“I wonder what the occasion is; you think Pharaoh has finally recovered from his illness?” Valnor asked.
Gallono pointed to a bed of pillows with a soft linen canopy providing shade set up in the far corner of the courtyard. Two half naked slave girls fanned the occupant as he lay there groaning softly. “I do believe the man himself is lying right over there. Why don’t you go ask him? Oh, and be sure to get all of us invitations to the big bash while you’re at it.”
As the group silently walked past the royal figure, Tonwen made sure to take a particularly close look at the man. His body was covered with boils resulting from the plethora of bug bites that everyone endured over the past few days, but something was different about his affliction. The welts looked bigger and were concentrated around his neck, armpits, and inner thighs. Not only that, the blisters were oozing pus a
nd blood, as evidenced by the stains on the otherwise pure white pillows.
The fat guard drew his scimitar and placed the blade under Tonwen’s throat and slowly turned his head away from the Pharaoh with the blade never losing contact with his skin. Without any words, Tonwen got the message, ‘you are not worthy to look upon the great one.’
When the group of workers returned to the pyramid construction site, as Gallono predicted, the four men were each handed a bowl of pasty goop to consume before getting back to work. Tonwen took the time to speak his mind.
“I do not think Pharaoh is feeling any better. In fact, he looks to be far worse off than anyone else in the city,” Tonwen commented with concern. “The blisters on his body are not from bug bites, I know that for certain.”
“How could you possibly know that from looking at the man for five seconds while walking past him twenty paces away?” Valnor asked skeptically.
“Bugs are not particular where they bite people to cause the boils and sores from which we all currently suffer. Pharaoh only had blisters on his neck and armpits, which is where the lymph nodes are located in these bodies,” Tonwen instructed. “His body is trying to fight an infection so the glands are swollen. It looks to me like the infection is winning the fight since his blisters are beginning to burst; I am virtually certain he has been infected by something, or some god-like beings to be precise.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Gallono challenged. “Pharaoh is their ally, why would the Alpha want him dead? Couldn’t it just as easily be that one of these bugs is carrying a disease that transfers when it bites a person?”
“That is a possibility, but it is too much of a coincidence in my mind that Pharaoh is the only one infected to such a degree,” Tonwen countered.
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