by D. S.
Young Prince Tuthmosis shrieked as if he’d just awoken from a nightmare. His doll fell to the stones and wide eyes stared at Josef in shock. Abruptly he turned and ran to the Co-Regent tugging on his arm. “Papa! Papa! “I dreamed I saw a red giant entombed in sand! He commanded me to free him!”
Josef stared at the boy curiously. A red giant entombed in sand? Narmer rolled his eyes and Amenhotep turned aggressively in his son’s direction. “What offal do you spout now, child?” The Prince didn’t seem to hear. All at once the boy appeared to sense Josef’s eyes on him. He turned slowly to meet them. His voice came surprisingly powerfully. “The shepherd seeks to free his flock.” Josef visibly paled as the boy’s unfocused eyes held his in a strange embrace.
Amenhotep jerked his head and Narmer took the young Prince almost roughly by the arm. The Co-Regent frowned, the boy was an embarrassment. But still, if he or perhaps his younger brother could serve as a figurehead for the Memphite court then why not? Little point in burdening himself with such tasks, he wanted the power but not the responsibility, let others shoulder the burden of running an empire while he sipped the finest wines, ate the finest meats, and fucked the finest women. One of those women was glancing nervously at him, her eyes seeking permission to follow her husband. He granted it with a dismissive gesture before abruptly he turned back to Yuya. He no longer smiled. “The boy ... he suffers from the bloodfever, we give him poppies from the dreamfields of the east but ... well I fear they do more harm than good.” He seemed to grow suddenly impatient. “Five debens then ... how many need you?”
Josef gazed over his shoulder, there were perhaps eight thousand huddled and cringing in the giant courtyard below, what had happened to the rest, he didn’t like to think. He breathed deep before turning and daring to meet the great one’s eyes. “All of them.”
XI
“You’re feeling better this evening?” Her mistress sounded somewhat suspicious.
The slave curtsied. “Yes, m’lady, it was just a passing weakness.”
Tjuya nodded. “Who said you could wear a shawl, Shiri? And such a crude piece too.” She sighed. “Oh, I suppose we can’t all be blessed with taste. In future I think it would be best if I chose your garb for you. For starters I would have you display your new style, it would be such a shame to hide it, especially after Meira went to such pains to make you less offensive to the eye.”
Shiri moved to take it off but Tjuya stopped her with a wave. “No, no, on second thoughts perhaps it is best as is; the more of you is covered the better you look.” She moved past the Habiru, frowning as she inspected the villa. She ran a dainty finger along the mantel piece and scrutinised its tip with raised eyebrow. “I thought I told you to have the place cleaned before I arrived.”
“M’lady?” The entire house was sparkling. She’d spent the last two days, dusting and polishing every scrap of furniture before scrubbing ancient stains from the tiled floors.
Tjuya shook her head as Meira deposited the last of her mistress’s items in the master bedroom and with a bounce in her step went to inspect her new quarters. “No, no, this won’t do, Shiri; these floors are still so dirty. It may suffice for you Wildland folk, but you would have me sleep amidst such filth?”
I would have you sleep on the hard rock slopes of Aruna. “No ... m’lady, but I thought I had them as clean as they’re ever like to get and I had to...”
“Leave the thinking to those better suited to it.” She pointed just in front of her. “You see, Shiri? There is a stain here.”
Shiri looked confused. “Where? I don’t see any stain...”
Tjuya smiled, before ever so slowly tipping her Memphite Red all over the tiles. She always seemed to have a goblet handy. “Do you see it now, whore?” she laughed. “Have it clean before I return or I may just take Meira’s advice and introduce you to Jafar, he’s not a gentle lover ... or so I’m told.” She turned for the exit. “Meira? Meira? Do hurry up, Meira, even now the light of my life arrives at the Sun Gate.”
For an age Shiri stood in bitter silence, listening to their fading voices as they hurried to greet him. With a sigh she went back to her knees and tended the stain she’d missed. Almost in a trance she scrubbed and scrubbed, scrubbed until it was cleaner than clean and then scrubbed some more. She heard a noise behind her. “You’re going to rub a hole in the floor if you’re not careful.” She jumped up with a start, “Jos ...Yuya I thought you were...”
“I came by the south road, ‘twould take all night to get through the jams at the Sun Gate ... eight thousand, Shiri! I got eight thousand!” She raised her head slowly. His face was glowing, his lips wide in a broad smile, but as his eyes found hers his look changed to one of horror. “Gods! What ... what have you done to your hair?”
She felt herself redden. Do I look so awful? “Nothing I ... I prefer it this way,” she’d done her best to conceal the damage. Meira had gone at her brutally, cutting all the way to bare skin in some parts while leaving others sprouting several inches of scrappy brown stubs. The shawl was bound tightly about her, but she could not hide behind it.
“But ... but it’s gone!” He made to reach for the shawl but she stepped back. “Who did this to you?” he was suddenly fuming, “Was it Hapu?” He spun in a whirl of fury and made for the door. “I’ll beat him bloody senseless! I warned the bastard, I warned him.”
“No! Leave him! I told you, I did it myself!” She grabbed him by the arm. “It was ... I ... I had lice.”
“Lice?”
“Yes, I think they’re off Ba’al. I went to see him yestermorn and well ...” she shook her head looking embarrassed.
Josef furrowed his brow. She no longer wears the sandals I bought her. “What’s going on here, Shiri?”
“I ... I’ve decided to move rooms. I don’t like the one I’m in now.”
“But you love that room, it has views of the gardens and...”
“Maybe I did once, but I don’t anymore. I ... don’t want to be reminded of what I ... we did. The basement suits me better.”
“The basement?!” he looked incredulous. “Is this a joke? Shiri you don’t want this.”
“Am I such a fool that I need you to tell me what I want?”
He held something in his hand, a necklace of strange bluestones and was that gold? For a moment she imagined he’d got it for her, a faint smile, precious and fleeting as parting clouds on a grey winter’s morn threatened to break upon her lips. It vanished when she realised the truth of it. Slaves aren’t allowed jewellery.
“You’re still determined to leave is that it?” She was making a point he concluded. She would live in misery until he agreed to get her out. “Alright then, if that’s what you want, I’ll get you out. I’ll escort you past the border myself, we’ll think of some excuse for the journey. I ... I can’t follow beyond that. I have to go through with this, I know that now.” His fingers squeezed about the delicate necklace of yellow gold and sky blue faience. He’d bought it for her in Memphis. Habiru weren’t meant to have jewellery, but he’d thought it might remind her that she was not really a slave. Perhaps now was not the best time. He slipped it into his coin pouch. “You can take Ba’al of course and another donkey besides, and a hundred debens will see you set for life.”
She watched him deftly slip the necklace into his pouch. He’d probably been expecting to find Tjuya here. “No I don’t want to leave,” she said. She imagined she saw a flicker of relief in his eyes.
He shook his head, looking increasingly confused. “You don’t? But why then are you...”
She exhaled pointedly. “Why must I always explain my reasons to you? Can a woman not cut her hair or change rooms without being questioned and interrogated about every little thing? Why must I answer for everything I do?”
“Shiri what’s happened? Did someone-”
“-So you did well in Memphis then?” The words sounded callus, disinterested. “I knew you would.”
For an age he just stood there looking at
her strangely. “Aye, well enough,” he said at length. He paused for a moment. “I told Solon who I am.”
Her eyes grew big. “You told Solon?” Here am I, going through hell to keep your secret safe, and all the while you’re waltzing around blathering to whomever you like.
“He’s got rare skills and rarer wisdom. I can use him. He claims he wants to do what he can to help. I’m not sure if we should trust him though … what do you think?”
You’ve already made your choice, why pretend my thoughts matter? “A wise man takes whatever help is offered,” she said coldly. “I hope you found him helpful.” He could have taken her instead of Old Solon, but no, he’d deemed her skills were better suited to cleaning his floors and weeding his gardens.
He seemed to read part of her thoughts. “You wouldn’t have wanted to see all that again, Amenhotep, Narmer ... thousands of slaves being beaten and abused. I thought it would be best for you to be spared it.”
She turned and made to leave him. “Yes, you always do what’s best for me don’t you?” Her hand passed over her stomach and lingered there a moment.
He reached for her. “Perhaps on the morrow we could...”
She shrugged him off and moved a few steps further away, all the while keeping her back to him. “I need to rest ... I have chores to tend to at first light.”
“Chores? Who told you to ... Shiri you don’t have to … I’m the slave and you’re the master remember?” He smiled that old smile of his.
Words, just words. “Of course I have to, you fool! Are you really that stupid? What choice have you left me?” She watched his smile dissolve into a frown. Her words clearly hurt him. Good I want to hurt him. She turned towards him, angry now. “How long ‘till everybody is gossiping and asking questions about why of all the slaves I alone get to take my leisure about your villa? Why, even Meira is ever about town, running errands and doing chores.”
“To hell with them and their questions, a man can do as he will with his own bodyslave, and any who says different will get a smack in the mouth for his trouble.”
She heard voices approaching outside. Tjuya. She shook her head. “You’re very young, Josef.”
He pursed his lips. “Aye, so I’ve been told.”
She nodded. “Younger than me.” She turned from him and headed for her basement. It was dank and dreary and smelled of mould. He called after her but she did not look back.
XII
The hunt began before dawn. Pentephres had come to him in a red rage. “She’s gone! The whore has run!” Josef leapt from the bed with a start. She couldn’t have run. She wouldn’t be fool enough. Pentephres and old Hapu beside him had barged into their bedroom and Josef could hear Akil and Jafar cursing in the common room. Tjuya tugged the blanket high about her neck, blinking the sleep from her eyes. “Shiri has run?”
Josef seemed almost to lose the run of himself then. He shoved Hapu aside and bolted for the door, pulling his kilt up about him as he went. I have to get to her first.
Pentephres grabbed Josef as he passed. “Amaris! My sweet Amaris!” He looked heartsick. “And Yocobel, her dog-faced sister, with her.” He let Josef go. “Her doing, I’d wager. That slut has corrupted my innocent flower and turned her against me. And we, to give her to the Godfires this very week!”
“Amaris?” Josef seemed to visibly relax.
“They took advantage of the confusion amidst the arrival of your Memphite herds and slipped out unnoticed,” Hapu said as he hurried after them.
Pentephres led the way, wringing his hands and gibbering to nobody in particular. “My Amaris, my darling unblemished Amaris, my rose without thorns, why do you betray me?”
“Mayhap she heard of your plans to burn her on the altar,” Josef said.
“High honour to be found worthy of the Godfires,” Hapu informed him sagely. “The fool wench should be flattered that it was her who was chosen.”
“Aye, no doubt the girl is too simple minded to grasp that.” Josef said. He motioned for Akil and Jafar to take a chariot, a half dozen had been rushed to the great square before the temple. He mounted the lead vehicle himself, Pentephres at his side. The bloodhounds were baying and pulling their keeper forward, and men were laughing now, the excitement of the hunt coursing through the air. Hapu was quick to grab the third chariot while the rest were still being argued over.
“She must be chastised with the flail for this,” Pentephres said more to himself than his companion. Josef lashed the whip and the chariot bolted forward. The old priest stumbled but managed to hold on. “But would that be enough?” He shook his head. “No, no, I must teach her obedience anew before she goes to the fires.” He said grimly as Josef lashed the steeds harder still.
They began to draw away from the rest as they thundered through the streets and out the Sun Gate. The dogs had bolted due east, clear enough the direction they’d taken then. Josef whipped his steeds a third time and left the hounds behind. “Her mouth,” Pentephres decided. “Yes, that’s it. I will have pleasure from her mouth. Thus will I chastise the child and teach her the wages of treachery.” He seemed a little uncertain. “The gods will still deem her a maiden, yes? It would not foul the sacrifice?” Josef glanced at him briefly, but did not see fit to argue the matter.
The sun was breaking upon a vivid sky of purple and gold when Josef saw them. Two black shadows cruelly silhouetted against the rising god. They had not gotten far. He felt a dull ache in his heart as he watched them vainly attempt to run for cover behind some scrappy bushes. It was pathetic really; they’d taken the eastern trail, direct towards the far distant Wildlands. But city raised, and innocent of the wider world they had no true knowledge of the harsh vastness of the Memphite Desert. The god of Heliopolis made a pitiless enemy, and with no mounts and only as much water as they could carry, there was little hope the pair would survive beyond a few days.
Pentephres hollered and pointed when he saw them. “The Three That Are One marks them out!” He looked over his shoulder beckoning to those following, the rest were far behind by now but hard on the slaves’ trail all the same.
The chariot tore past the pair, rounding on them in a cloud of dust. Amaris screamed and dashed wildly for the open sands. Josef pulled on the reins and the snorting horses circled wide, cutting her off while with surprising agility, the high priest leapt from the vehicle and grabbed for her. Yocobel came at him then and Pentephres met her with his staff. He thrust it hard against her stomach, doubling her over. A brief entreaty to Ra and Horus of the horizon followed before his staff found the slave’s back and sent her sprawling, half conscious. A sandaled foot to the gut and he was done with that one. The old man was breathing hard now, but he moved on her young sister with intent. The child turned and ran from him, but shrieked again as the high priest’s heir loomed up in front of her, mace in hand and fire in his eyes.
Amaris fell to her knees before him, sobbing and begging at his feet. “P ... please, m’lord, I’m sorry, m’lord ... please ... please ... don’t send me to the fires, m’lord.” Quivering lips found Josef’s toes and the Memphite sands drank salty tears. She felt a rough hand on her shoulder, her master. She looked for Yocobel. She was bent over a few yards behind him, coughing, retching, crying.
Her master was red-faced and panting, and he was angry, his fingers dug deep into her shoulder. “Good ... good work, Yuya, my son ... I feared we’d have to give chase a while longer.” He looked down at his sniffling flower, more beautiful and perfect now than ever, her eyes were red and swollen from crying, her face a sweet mask of fear. Pentephres stared deep into those twin pools. “Beautiful, innocent, and timid as fawn,” he whispered.
She made to stand but he kept her on her knees. “D … don’t hurt Yocobel,” she sobbed. “... it was ... it was my idea I ... I didn’t even want her to come.”
“Stay your tongue, child.” He blessed her and caressed her cheek gently. “Sweet beautiful child, you leave me little choice, you have strayed from the righteous
path and now I must cleanse you.” He put a stubby finger to her lips. “Open,” he said huskily. Reluctantly her lips parted just a little and he slipped his finger inside her mouth. Ever so slowly he pushed it back and forth between her lips, staring down at her, almost as if lost in a trance. Finally he dragged his eyes away and glanced briefly at Josef. “Such a sacrifice,” he said shaking his head.
Josef looked on as the priest slid his free hand inside his robes. “I must chastise you, my love. I would not have had it so. I would have had you go unto the fires innocent of such things, but now you must learn. Now you must be cleansed of your villainy.” Pentephres loosed the slightest of moans as he worked beneath his robes. “It ... it is for your own good you understand? I could not ... live with the fear that the gods might find you unworthy and cast you aside.”
Slowly he flopped out his manhood and edged it closer to her face. He rubbed it against her cheek, moistening it with her tears. “‘Ere the week is out I will have you trained in certain new arts, and the Three That Are One will love you all the better for it.” He turned to Josef with a grin. “Oh yes, I can feel it in my bones, Yuya, Heliopolis will wax mighty once more. The gods will rejoice, and thank us for our devotion. They will thank us for my sweet Amaris.”
He stroked his manhood slowly. “Poor child, I see it now. You have been corrupted. Your sister’s doing no doubt, she was the same and worse at your age. She did all in her power to seduce me and now you ... you seek to do the same.” He stroked himself more quickly now. “Look at you, not even a woman grown yet still you seek to have pleasure of me. You think I have not seen you give me eyes? You think I have not seen you flaunt yourself before me? Did you learn such arts from the whores of the markets?”
Amaris sobbed harder now, barely able to speak. “Please, m’lord ... I ... I don’t give you eyes ... I-”
“No! I will not hear your lies, slut!” Pentephres moaned loudly as finally he coaxed himself to full size. He looked down at her again and smiled this time. “Yet perhaps ... perhaps even now I will help you. I will help purify you of your foul, lusting thoughts. I will do what I can to satiate them. You force me to it unwillingly you understand? But I shall not abandon you at this final juncture. I shall let you take me into you as is your want, Amaris, and then perhaps you will go unto the gods without your impure desires spoiling the sacrifice.” The old man brushed his fingers through her thick curls before moving his hand to the back of her head and guiding her reluctant lips towards him.