Taken (Chosen by Egypt Book 1)

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Taken (Chosen by Egypt Book 1) Page 2

by Lilith T. Bell


  Her hand caught his. “No,” she said, though the word was muffled against his lips.

  Strong as he was, he didn’t fight her grip. “No,” he agreed.

  She pulled her head back against the floor to look up at him, trying to read what he might do next, her heart pounding so hard she was surprised her jerkin didn’t shake with the force of it. After a moment, the Egyptian commander stood and straightened his clothing. He leaned over to scoop up both of their swords, then edged toward the door, one eye on Eiluhepa. For the first time, Eiluhepa realized that the sounds of battle had stopped. How long ago the battle had ended, she had no idea, but she felt a rush of shame that she’d been in her hut panting after the Egyptian commander when it had happened.

  Chapter Four

  “How goes it, Captain Meriatum?” the commander called out in the Egyptian tongue.

  “We appear to have captured all of the men, your highness.”

  Hearing that, Eiluhepa was snapped out of her guilt to stare at the man in horror. A prince. She’d had a prince of Egypt pinned to the floor and rather than taking a knife to his throat she’d kissed him.

  “Are there any captives inside?” Captain Meriatum was asking.

  “Just one. Search the village for any other weapons. Take them. Once we have all of them, I want you to release the men again.”

  Eiluhepa listened as she straightened her clothes and pulled the knife from her ankle. The prince was busy speaking to his captain now and no longer paying as much attention. They hadn’t lost much. Weapons that were replaceable. Honor that would be regained. It wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Perhaps she had even helped by keeping their prince busy. And perhaps she could be of more help, now, with a knife in the back.

  “What of the tribute, your highness?”

  “For now they’ll pay it in their blades and hospitality. It’s a tiny village. I’m not going to take their food away from them.”

  Eiluhepa paused, blade in hand. The prince was being generous for the moment. Almost kind. If she killed him, she doubted the captain would feel as charitable. With the rest of her men captured, that wasn’t something she could afford to do. In addition to that, as little as she wanted to admit it, she’d just kissed the prince and desired him. Killing someone one shared intimacy with was shameful, even if that someone was an enemy. Even if it had been a brief, confusing, yet all too pleasurable encounter with a man she should have been fighting.

  Eiluhepa stood with the blade, but tossed it at the prince’s feet harmlessly.

  The prince gave a jerk as he caught the movement out of the corner of his eye, then turned to stare at Eiluhepa for a moment. After passing off the captured sword to one of the Egyptian soldiers and putting his own back on, the prince picked up the knife.

  “Who’s in charge of this village? We will be staying nearby for the time being, but will offer our protection as long as we keep your weapons.”

  “I am, for now. Our elders had all evacuated the village. I was left in command of the attack.” It was a lie to conceal the true nature of their community, but one that she and her father had decided on long before.

  “Women fighting and leading,” he murmured, shaking his head. “Very well. You’ll be the one I negotiate with until then. Once we have our camp set up, come to it. You’ll be led to my tent.”

  The prince looked down at the knife thoughtfully, tucking it into his belt. He turned to go, then paused again and turned back to Eiluhepa. “I am Itamununemwia, son of Pharaoh.”

  “Eiluhepa.” No family ties or title, as she doubted the Egyptian would care about whatever lie she told him. Nor was he worth wasting the breath on them.

  Chapter Five

  It was pettiness, pure and simple. Itamun knew that a few hundred at best of the Hittites were no risk to their kingdom. His father knew it as well. That didn’t stop the his father’s desire to crush the people after all of these years, even when it had proven to be impossible. Itamun had grown up hearing stories from his older brothers about the sieges. They’d been tiny then and still had their sidelocks, but their father had taken them to battle, to prepare them to be warriors like their father.

  Part of Itamununemwia wondered if that was his father’s reasoning for sending him on this campaign. He was twenty-five and very settled into a life without bloodshed. Perhaps his father had worried he’d become too soft if he didn’t see battle soon. Over the past several months he’d seen too much of it.

  It galled him to be sitting in a tent, looking over the inventory of a Hittite village, when he should have been at home. Even if they had no romantic or erotic ties between them, he still cared for Ashaki, the woman his father had chosen for his bride. They had known one another since they were children and the thought of bedding her was as repugnant to him as bedding his own sister - and gods be praised he hadn’t had that sort of match forced on him - but he feared not being near her when she was so close to giving birth. The child was of the blood of Ashaki’s lover, a slave, but Itamun would claim the child as his own even so. His mother had warned him that it was unlikely he would ever sire his own children, born with the gift of Anubis as he was. Women could give him pleasure, but only one as rare and gifted as he could ever give him children.

  The thought of pleasure sent his mind automatically back to the Hittite, Eiluhepa. While Itamun had bedded women before, he’d never had anything quite like that. Many servants were eager to offer themselves up to a son of the pharaoh, though he wasn’t sure of how many of them truly desired him and how many were simply hoping to gain influence and wealth. There had been a novel mutuality with Eiluhepa, a give and take that had been lacking in his other encounters.

  The woman was utterly unlike any of the other women Itamun had bedded. She was tall and well built, as though the gods had designed a warrior maiden, perfect for battle and soothing a soldier’s desire. Her arms and chest were particularly well-muscled, illustrating in every sinew that she had trained for years on the bow. Momentum could aid a man swinging a sword, but it took ironclad control and strength to draw a bowstring and shoot accurately. No soft palace servant could compare. People of many different races came petitioning to the palace, so that the woman’s paler skin and her straight black hair were exotic, but not unusual. The Hittite’s eyes, as dark as night that flashed with fury and passion, were unusual though. The woman’s features looked as though they had been carved from stone, harsh and sharp. Only the soft black depths of those eyes and the haughty curl of her lips hinted at something more than just coldness and rage.

  “Your highness, the Hittite from—”

  “Yes, Eiluhepa. Send her in.” Itamun didn’t raise his eyes from the skin the inventory had been written on. It afforded him a few more precious moments to reign in his thoughts and get some control of himself so he didn’t behave like a stallion in need of gelding. With two guards, the captain of the troops and a scribe present, he couldn’t afford to openly hint at his lust for the woman.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the Hittite enter the tent. Itamun frowned as he poured wine into his cup, then finally glanced toward the entrance of the tent. “Do you want some?”

  “No.” Eiluhepa answered in Egyptian, her tone abrupt. The fact that she spoke the language intrigued Itamun, as he’d assumed the woman was uneducated. The Hittite crossed the tent to sit on the floor across from the prince, defiance in her eyes.

  Itamun raised a brow slightly at the abrasiveness and idly wondered if the woman understood exactly how much of a disadvantage she was at. They were on Egyptian land and had failed to pay their tribute for the year. Killing them all would have been perfectly justified. Of course, Itamun had no intention of doing that, so making the threat would be meaningless. A threat he wouldn’t follow through with would only weaken his own position, and as insolent as the Hittite was being Itamun had no desire to see her or her people dead.

  Since the Hittite had started speaking in Egyptian, Itamun decided to continue the negot
iations in that language. “Aside from food and iron, there isn’t much your village has to offer. And I imagine you need your food.” The prince set the skin down before raising his cup to sip from it. He saw Eiluhepa’s eyes dart down to the inventory. Could she read as well as speak Egyptian? The Hittites were a literate race, though their written word was all in strange little wedge shapes. “Your evident hatred of Pharaoh aside, I can see why you didn’t pay tribute.”

  “My people owe you nothing. Half of our village was murdered last year in a raid. Some have thought that it wasn’t bad luck at all, but under the direction of Egypt. Whether it was directly your fault or because your men failed to protect us, you deserve nothing.”

  Itamun raised a brow slightly and locked eyes with the Hittite. The idea that someone would change their allegiance to a king because he had failed them was a foreign one to Itamun. To act against Pharaoh wasn’t simply an affront to the man Ramesses-Meriamon, but a grave insult to the gods. Since Eiluhepa spoke Egyptian quite well, Itamun could assume she was educated. If she was educated it could be assumed she knew of the belief in Pharaoh’s divinity. Yet she would deny a living god his tribute. Instead of offending him, Itamun found himself fascinated by the woman’s will.

  Eiluhepa’s eyes narrowed. “Here are my conditions, prince. My people go free. Everything you have taken, you will return. And you will never again come to us, or take from us, or ask anything of us.”

  “Interesting proposal.”

  Itamun looked the woman over curiously, before his lips curled into a smile. There was no threat in it, because he had no reason to make a threat. The woman was utterly at his mercy and either didn’t realize it or was too stubborn to admit it. There was something perversely, sadistically exciting in that. For a brief moment Itamun wished he was alone with the Hittite, perhaps given the chance to see what sort of woman’s body she had beneath the warrior’s garb she wore, but he pushed that thought aside. Now wasn’t the time to think like a bull in rut. The prince picked up his cup again, taking a sip off of it. He savored the wine and let the moment stretch out agonizingly before he set the cup down again.

  “All we have taken thus far have been your weapons, and only to keep you from stabbing us in the back. They’ll be returned to you when we leave. I honestly don’t want anything from you. However, Pharaoh feels differently. He requires tribute. Something must be done.”

  “I could have stabbed you in the back. Instead I gave you my knife.”

  “And I appreciate that.” It was more than he would have expected from a Hittite. They were considered a fierce and warlike people. This group of them were apparently in some sort of disfavor with their king, but that didn’t mean that they were at all different from the rest.

  A swaggering grin spread across Eiluhepa’s face. “It’s a shame you’ll have to disappoint your king.”

  “Well then. The tribute will be paid in flesh. Thank you for volunteering. You’re quite self-sacrificing for your people.”

  It was fascinating to watch as the realization spread across Eiluhepa’s face. First her eyes were narrowed, her lips curled in anger. Then she froze before her face slowly relaxed into a look of shock. “You can’t do that.” The words were barely more than a whisper.

  “If a foreign prince refuses to submit to Pharaoh’s will, he or one of his children is taken from his people to ensure they will behave. You’re hardly a prince, but you’re the current leader of your people. I’m feeling generous, so rather than force your people to do Pharaoh’s will, I’ll simply force you to do mine.”

  He was already going to have to pay for a great deal of this campaign out of his own pocket, as he had refused to let his men pillage. It was how they were normally paid for their efforts in war, but it would have led to the village being utterly wiped out. Pillaging followed by further demands from his father the following year for tribute would leave them too poor to survive, or too angry to concern themselves with it. An armed revolt would have been likely under those circumstances. It wasn’t what his father had ordered him to do, but it was the most logical way to handle the situation. The Hittites would be more likely to pay their tribute the following year with a hostage in the palace and their own meager wealth still intact.

  “I should kill you where you sit,” growled Eiluhepa. Her hands were curled into fists, unconsciously miming strangulation. The gesture wasn’t lost on Itamun, but he made no move to defend himself against the woman. Bronze blades glimmered in the light as the guards standing behind Eiluhepa stepped forward with their weapons at the ready. Itamun raised a hand, stopping them.

  “And if you tried, you would die and then every man, woman, child and goat in your village would be slaughtered.”

  Itamun could see Eiluhepa’s shoulders sag and her hands go limp as she bowed her head, the fight draining from her like blood from a sacrificial beast. “You won’t trouble us again?” Kohl black eyes looked up at Itamun through her lashes.

  “Tribute will still be expected next year, but so long as it’s paid your people will be safe. They can’t live on Egyptian lands without being subject to our law.”

  “Then why take me at all?”

  “For what you owe this year and to guard against your people refusing to pay next year. Should they refuse payment or revolt, you will be executed.”

  “They won’t.” There was a despondent surety in that statement. “So that’s it, then? I give myself to a lifetime of slavery and everyone will be safe.”

  “Something like that.” Itamun had no desire to keep the woman for the rest of her life, nor were hostages usually treated as slaves. So long as they were cooperative, they were treated nearly as well as members of the royal family. He wasn’t going to sweeten the deal by pointing any of that out, however. The woman had a remarkable defiant streak and would get herself killed promptly if she arrived at the palace with that intact. Only if she was properly humbled would she make a suitable hostage.

  Since Eiluhepa remained silent, Itamun went on. “We’ll remain here for two more nights and then we will press on. There are other battles in this campaign yet. Your people won’t be molested during our stay.”

  The foreign woman only gave the barest of nods in acknowledgment.

  “Do you give your word that you won’t act against me?” Itamun asked.

  At that, Eiluhepa gave a bitter little laugh. “What choice do I have?”

  Itamun said nothing, waiting. They both knew that she ultimately had little choice. All that remained to be seen was if she would submit willingly or not.

  After a moment, Eiluhepa spoke again. “Can I return to the village for tonight?”

  “Do you have a husband or children to say goodbye to?”

  She shook her head. “Only my parents.”

  She looked to be in her early twenties, which was a bit old to be unmarried yet, but not unheard of. He wondered if she was widowed and that was where some of that rage inside of her came from. Itamun nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, you can return for the night. You can also send runners to go seek your elders and tell them of what has happened. You didn’t stab me in the back when you had the chance.”

  “Then you have my word.”

  Satisfied with that, Itamun waved the woman out and turned back to the inventory while the guards and scribe left. Captain Meriatum remained behind and settled on the floor across from the makeshift desk. The prince ignored him for a moment as he finished scratching out notes. His father would be disappointed with the inventory, but at least the Hittite village would be forced to submit now.

  Chapter Six

  “You handled her well.”

  Itamun glanced up at Captain Meriatum, feeling a small smile curl one corner of his mouth. “It’s easy to handle someone when they don’t have any options.”

  “You should handle your priests similarly.”

  That made Itamun pause, thoughtful. He’d struggled to keep control of the temple ever since Ashaki’s father had died and a new head priest, R
amose, had been selected. His father had originally planned for Itamun to take over as the head priest of the temple of Hathor, which was a large reason behind the match with Ashaki. Yet his father-in-law had been murdered days after the wedding and the support for Ramose had been strong. To avoid it looking like an assassination, Pharaoh had allowed Ramose to ascend rather than give the position to his son. Instead, Itamun was but a state overseer for the temple, ensuring things ran smoothly and tributes were properly funneled to the palace. The chaos that Ramose continually sowed reflected poorly on Itamun for failing to control it. The pharaoh had moved his capital to the delta, far from Thebes and the powerful influence of the priests of Amun there. The fact that the priests of the goddess Hathor were growing so influential in the House of Ramesses made Itamun look like a fool.

  “Taking someone captive is a little different from subduing a temple,” said Itamun.

  “A temple full of priests is simply a different sort of village.” The other man inclined his head slightly. “But an old warrior may not be the best to give advice on politics.”

  Itamun chuckled, shaking his head at the false modesty. One of the things he’d found most endearing about Meriatum was the fact that the man seemed incapable of keeping his thoughts to himself. At times it could be frustrating, but Itamun valued his honesty. It was a rare trait.

  “I’ll take all the advice I can. I still have to go back there and clean up that mess.”

  Chapter Seven

  Eiluhepa was allowed to bring what she could carry, but nothing more. The mercy somehow made it worse than simply being captured in battle. Rather than having no choice, she was aware that she had given her word. Once the elders returned to the village, her father had been ready to pay double the tribute if it meant keeping Eiluhepa, but she wouldn’t let her father do it.

 

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