Shabaka looked at his father, uncertain as to what to say in response.
“She will have to be found, whether dead or alive. I suspect the pharaoh will want an explanation either way.”
“I have sent him word of her disappearance, but nothing else,” Shabaka said.
“And there has been no request for recompense?”
“No, Moses has spent time at the stoneworkers, but we have not found the person who handed the messenger her sash.”
“I see,” the king said, remaining silent for several moments before speaking. “That however does not explain the situation with Dragi’s wife. You expect me to approve this . . . this . . . marriage.”
Shabaka shook his head, “It was an agreement I had hoped you would overturn—” Shabaka explained, but was cut short by his father.
“Then why have her seated next to you at the table? If anything that would make it seem as if you are intent to follow through on this.”
Shabaka shifted his weight from one foot to the other, clearing his throat as he spoke, “Moses thought it would make Neti seem less important, if I seemed to be betrothed, and possibly cause her captors to release her.”
His father looked at him for several moments, before finally nodding, “So it is true, then.”
“What is?”
“What I have heard, that you care for her.”
Shabaka nodded, “It is difficult not to, you will understand when you meet her.”
“Right. I can overturn the agreement, and Aya will then become the responsibility of Dragi’s son.”
“No!” Shabaka was quick to counter. “That was the reason he betrothed her to me, he did not want her to end up with his son.”
King Shebitku remained silent for several moments, before musing, more to himself. “I remember there was a matter of his that was brought to court. I will have to ask the scribes to bring me the scroll on that.” He then turned to Shabaka, “It does however complicate things with you, as there will be a question about your manhood and your reluctance to take a wife.”
The king fell silent for a moment, and then resumed, “I will be attending to the matters of Dragi’s estate and can delay it, as his property is far more complex that the average trader. I have however been informed that the property and the trading post has been handed over to the son. Once the estate is settled, everyone will expect an announcement, and you have given them reason now to believe it will happen.”
“It was not my idea,” Shabaka countered.
“It makes no difference; it will appear of more importance to the kingdom if I officiate the search for your cohort.”
Shabaka only nodded his head.
“How is your arm?” King Shebitku asked, causing Shabaka to look at him in question, “The pharaoh said it was broken at some stage.”
“It has healed.”
“And you will manage the festival?”
“Father,” Shabaka said, wanting to discourage his father. However, his father had no intention of yielding.
“You will be one of the participants this year as you are of age and still unmarried, it would leave no doubt as to your manhood. You will also act as the official invitation bearer.”
“Father, I do not have time for this, I must . . .”
“No,” the king firmly halted Shabaka’s response, “I have thought this through, it will allow for you to move around Sylene in an official capacity, while allowing the accompanying medjay members to meet with informants.”
“Informants?” Shabaka asked, confused, “I did not know we had any.”
“Yes, something Ramesses mentioned to me, there are several people who provide us with information for barter. I have a set amount we give them; it works—sometimes. Sometimes they take chances. But you will have the freedom to check any such information without people becoming suspicious. I will have the captain of the guard draw up the contestants.”
“Why has no one told me of this?” Shabaka demanded, angered by the amount of time that had been lost.
“Because it is only ever done on my authority,” his father firmly answered. “It is also a matter that remains between the captain of the medjay and me. He reports all actions in the palace to me when I have been away.”
Shabaka hesitated for a moment, but finally asked that which concerned him, “What about Bergi?”
“What about him?” King Shebitku asked.
“It is just . . . I’m . . .”
“What is it?” his father demanded.
“Some of his decisions.”
King Shebitku shook his head, “Bergi has the kingdom’s interests and our culture at heart. He has no desire to cause friction. His decisions and actions are sometimes difficult to understand, but when viewed from that perspective it is understandable. He is a good manager, he ensures that matters are seen to, he has no visionary or leadership qualities.”
“You do not suspect him of having other objectives.”
Shabaka’s father looked at him and smiled, nodding approvingly. “I see the time spent with Ramesses has done well to educate you about the sinister nature of people. It was one of my concerns when you were a young boy. You were too embracing of everyone. Your intents and interests were always good; that is something that you got from your mother. No, Bergi is not a threat, he is well looked after. He has a wife and seven children, the eldest who is a little younger than Hassim. He would not be as foolish as the young vizier you dealt with in Pi-Ramesses. Go see your mother, I am certain she too will need her mind appeased.”
Shabaka bowed before turning from his father.
Chapter Seven
Rameke’s head lolled as the blissful sensations overwhelmed him. The kneading of his thighs added to the sensation. As his head fell sideways, his eyes were mere slits as he took in the sight of the woman who was currently working him with her mouth, before closing his eyes and simply enjoying the moment. There were few with whom he could be intimate, who would not take advantage of the situation, but she was the best of them. She could make him forget things and allow him to give himself over to the intense pleasure of the moment. It was one of the reasons he kept her around, that and she was also undemanding.
The door swung open, creaking on the hinges, and just as quickly he felt his anger rise. Everyone knew he was not to be disturbed, especially not when bliss seemed so close. He opened his eyes, lifted his head, and glared in the direction of the door, at the same time his hand going to the woman’s head to keep her there. He felt her hesitate for a moment but seemed to continue her attentions as he took in the sight of Gepe, his eyes seeming glued to where the woman was working.
It never ceased to amaze Rameke how men would react to a half-naked woman pleasuring a man.
“You had better have a good reason for disturbing me, Gepe,” Rameke calmly said, fighting the urge to drop his head back as the woman continued her attentions, drawing an appreciative moan from him.
“I, um . . . I,” Gepe started uncertainly and then seemed to gather his thoughts. “I have news from the palace.”
“That informant of ours is finally useful,” Rameke said, looking again at the woman and releasing her head, as he spoke to her. “Let me deal with him, then we can finish this.” She released him from her mouth and rose before him, lifting her dress and fastening it over her shoulder before turning from him. Her actions allowed him to place his tunic over his still-aroused body. Gepe seemed to relax some at the action, as the woman moved from the room, allowing them a moment to talk.
“I, um, thought you would like to know,” Gepe said, still hesitant, looking after the woman.
“She’s my slut, so don’t even think it,” Rameke warned, causing the man to turn his full attention to Rameke.
“You pay her enough,” Gepe was quick to retort.
“All women have a price, you either pay for pleasure like that or you pay her to look after your house and to mother your children, any which way you pay for sex. You lot are just too stupid to r
ealize it.”
Gepe made to object but was cut short, “Besides I’d rather just have the pleasure and none of the drama. Or I would have the pleasure if you had not disturbed me. What is this about the palace?” Rameke angrily demanded. “It had better be good.”
“We have received word that the king has once again approached informers, that he is activating the informer network.”
“And this came from the palace.”
“Well, no, but one of our informers told us, as it seems the king is keeping the matter quiet.”
“He is, is he?” Rameke said, more to himself, not altering his position.
“This does not alarm you?” Gepe hesitantly asked.
“Why should it concern me?” Rameke calmly replied. “I have always used it to my advantage, besides he is obviously seeking another thief.”
“They are looking for any information about . . .” Gepe seemed hesitant, his head nudged to indicate another room, “her. Or the people who could have taken her.”
Rameke remained silent for some time, finally speaking. “Those informers are as gullible as the men who work for the king and they believe every bit of information they are given. Only those present that evening know that we took her, so if anything is said, I will know it is one of you, and I will feed you to the crocodiles, and you can tell the others that!” Rameke threatened. “Have the man at the palace notify me if there is any information that even suggests our involvement. Tell him we’ll take his eldest son if he fails to provide the needed information.”
“He might decide to turn.”
“Ha, I pay him more than he earns with the king, so he will not give us any trouble.”
“You have angered others; they could say something to draw attention from their own doings.”
“And what will they say? That I am responsible! For what, what proof do they have? When I have lost far more than any of them in this. No, it will just be seen as some petty attempt to get back at me. Besides, if they do say anything, they can go join my father. It is easy enough to be rid of her and them also.”
The man looked at Rameke, shocked.
“But she is worth much more to me alive at the moment. If they found her body I could not taunt the prince as much, and as long as he has Aya I have reason enough to taunt him.”
“Rameke, it is foolish,” Gepe warned.
“Is it, really?” Rameke challenged. “Why would a man who approaches the king about matters concerning his father’s estate, that he requests be resolved, be responsible for such actions?”
“You’ve been to see the king?” Gepe asked, confused.
“No, I’m going to see the king. My father’s untimely death has placed a strain on my matters, as it was easier pillaging the caravans. But I cannot move much from here right now, as I should be in mourning. Besides she should gather a sufficient payment, if not from the king then from the traders.”
“How can you be so certain of that?”
“Because she is one of the pharaoh’s people. He will avoid a war at all costs. Besides, I feel the prince was somehow involved in my father’s death, and I want his actions questioned. I also want my father’s request overturned, so that Aya is to come to me, rightfully.”
“And you think the king will allow this? He has not even been back long enough to hold an open meeting,” Gepe challenged Rameke, gaining a stern glare as a reprimand, however, he finished. “You think he will see you?”
“He will see me, because it concerns his son and the intended princess. I might request that, and anything else that belonged to my father, as it is within my rights, no one can deny me that,” Rameke confidently said.
“I tell you, he will hear none of it now, there is too much preparation for the festival.”
“Even if that were so, I would be seen as a wronged person. Even in his eyes, he will not suspect me of anything else. Which is why I should at least voice my discontent about the matters. Most of the traders would expect that of me. I will be seen as a person who is tending to the matters of a beloved father.” The latter was added with a note of sarcasm.
The man simply looked at him and shook his head.
“You disagree with me?” Rameke demanded, for the first time moving to sit upright.
“I know not what to say,” Gepe honestly replied.
“Well then make yourself useful, go and hear what these networks are telling them, add some information about the others, it must be diverted from us.” Rameke firmly said. “We might as well make something on half-accurate information about the others.”
The man looked at him in disbelief, “And what would I have to tell the guards? You know what punishment is doled out for deceiving the palace.”
“The best place to put a lie is between the truth, Lead them to the other raiders, it is not that hard. You don’t know anything about a woman, but there are many who will sell women. Let the palace take care of those who plunder in my territory.”
“And you think this will work?” the man hesitantly asked.
“I am here in my father’s house, enjoying the attentions lavished on me. I have no need for the desert. I cannot speak for my men, though they could have captured the woman.” Rameke replied to the man, “It would be easy enough to arrange,” he added warningly. Now go see to it.”
Gepe turned from him to leave, although Rameke called him back, “Just remember I know who would be responsible if any of this were to come my way,” Rameke warned.
“You should have let her go, she was on her way home, she did you nothing,” Gepe countered, “At least then we would not have this problem with the king.”
“It is not the king I wish to settle a dispute with, but his son.”
“You must have had too much wine or something, because there is no way that he would have been attracted to her. He would have done more in this father’s absence if that was so.”
“Just go! You are testing my patience!” Rameke forcefully said, “and have my slut return.”
The man simply shook his head as he exited the room. Mumbling something under his breath.
~~~
Shabaka sat next to his father in the assembly hall. It was a position he had occupied in his youth, before his departure, and just like then, he now felt irritable, as if he should not be there. He had never enjoyed the multiple meetings with advisors, yet knew it was expected of him, especially with him having handled certain matters in his father’s absence. The proper decorum had to be maintained, but it was still something that had always irritated him.
Working as a prefect, Ramesses would often excuse him from such trivial matters. Much like this was at the moment. He looked at another set of decorations for the festival and could not understand the need for his father’s approval. The procession of people also failed to draw him from his wandering thoughts, all the while the advisors and elders were trying to draw his father’s attention to more stately concerns.
He was not certain why it suddenly annoyed him, that his father had more concern for the festival than anything else. His father had even spent time earlier that morning watched as Shabaka had practiced for the festival, commending him on certain movements that were known to be difficult, as well as those he had learned from Ramesses. Little else had been said to indicate his father’s state of mind. As it were, Moses was allowed, with the captain of the guard, to go and spread the word while he had to remain in the palace. He felt ineffectual. He wanted to be doing more, yet was forced to remain stagnant.
He knew that during the course of the following days he would be accompanied by the captain of the guard, his sergeant, and Moses to issue the official invitations to the festival contestants, all the while gathering any information. He only wished he could hurry it along. Every day spent in stasis was one day too many. The caption had informed him that it could take several days before any information came filtering through. Shabaka did not feel like he had several days’ worth of patience left, he wanted answers now. His irritation
surfaced as he once again had to listen to another advisor, who spoke of expected wheat crops and tillage. He clenched his fists as the man proceeded to break down his report by area.
The doors to the assembly hall swung open, drawing the immediate attention of all those within it. Rameke arrogantly stood in the doorway, gazing on all those present, smirking some when he noticed Shabaka. Even from that distance, Shabaka could make out the almost hawkish appearance of Rameke. The man reminded him of a buzzard, the sharp set of his nose and mouth had a striking resemblance to the bird. And the long awkwardness of the man’s gait, along with his appearance and mannerisms made it easy to imagine him as a bird of prey.
Shabaka knew that at some inopportune moment that Rameke would appear before the court, that he would seek an audience with the king. Shabaka was well enough aware of the man’s discontent at his dead father’s matters. Rameke had spoken eagerly enough of Aya, and how his inheritance from his father would not pain him. Yet Shabaka had thought that Rameke would be wise enough to seek council after the festival, although the evident impatience the man had displayed on their earlier meetings again surfaced.
Shabaka watched as the man stepped closer, his head held high, almost proud, not intimidated by those within the court. And although Shabaka knew the reason for Rameke’s presence, he had not thought that the man would actually object to an agreement set by his father, especially when one considered what the man had inherited. Granted he was not the most attractive of men, but Shabaka knew that power, money, and prestige could often buy people, especially women. Their fathers would also not hesitate to marry them off to Rameke. It was only later that the young man’s words came back to haunt him, “Why pay for a bride, if a suitable one is already available?”
Shabaka watched as the man bowed lowly to the king and addressed him in the proper manner. And although there was nothing wrong with his address and the manners that he displayed, Shabaka could feel the man’s gaze on him, for several moments before the king addressed him.
“Rameke, eldest son of Dragi, what has brought you to my court?” Shabaka’s father calmly asked. “As you may know, my court has not yet been opened to matters of the people, I am only consulting with the viziers and court advisors.”
The Prince of Nubia Page 7