"Of Princes And Slaves"
Part 6
by Osiris Brackhaus & Beryll
- Prince Nekhem (Orli) -
Behind the house my aunt lived in, there was a huge orchard
with pomegranate trees, almond and even the occasional lemon tree. Fiery red
pomegranates vied for attention against the pale rose blossoms of the almond
trees, every here and there the bright yellow star of a thick-leafed pomegranate
blossom in between. It was a lovely place, and many of my fondest childhood
memories stem from the few times I were able to visit her together with my
mother, the Queen Dedyet.
Maybe, today, I would be able to add yet another memorable event to my life
in my aunt's orchard.
The trip from Theben to my aunt's place had been hasty, as
immediate as possible without looking like a headless run.
A captured assassin escaping from the royal dungeons. This was unheard of,
and frightening in it's implications. Whoever was behind the attempt on my
life was far more powerful than I would have liked, and so many things didn't
fit together. Why did they send me assassins instead of keeping with tradition
and bribing one of my slaves to slip a snake into my bed at night?
And why were they after me, anyway? I merely was the Pharaoh's second son,
unimportant except for the improbable case my brother should lose Horus' protection
and die. No-one would gain if I were to die, especially not if I were murdered
outright in my bed.
This whole thing was weird and unsettling me even more than I would have liked.
I was missing out on some pivotal information, and this rankled me, for I
might not be the strong arm of the realm, but I was supposed to be smart.
And I didn't get it.
At least there was my brother in Theben I could rely on.
It was him who brought to me the ill news of the prisoner's escape, and he
suggested me to take an extended holiday somewhere off the fray. I was so
glad he was around, and his courage and dedication would protect me.
We had both agreed on my mother's sister's place was perfect for the situation.
I liked her very much, and she would be so happy to have me with her for some
time in her vast estate. After all, being sister to the Queen of the Realm
did have it's advantages, and my aunt didn't have that much to do nowadays.
Abandoning everything I did not immediately need or would
not find at my aunt's place in Theben, I left as soon as a boat could be readied.
Which means that I ended up with my barbarian, two body-servants, six huge
chests of clothes and jewelry, two musicians, eight soldiers of my own guard
and a dozen nameless slaves to take care of my luggage. Never before all these
people had seemed such a burden to me.
At least I was able to convince Senem-Nef to stay behind in Theben, for even
if I could place my immediate safety into the hands of some simple soldiers,
I seriously preferred someone intelligent back at home to keep an eye out
on things and to help my brother.
So, a few days later, we arrived at my aunt's place, and
as expected, she was genuinely thrilled at the prospect of having her favorite
nephew with her until further notice. And I couldn't say I minded being there.
My mind was still turning around the question of who tried to kill me, who
was powerful enough and yet weird enough to go after the Pharaoh's second
son.
But the rural quiet of my aunt's place managed to calm my worries within the
first three days, and before long, I found myself wandering in her orchard,
marveling at the fruits and the lushness of the plants.
Her estates were two days upriver from Theben, and quite
a bit off the river as well, but her wells and irrigation were exceedingly
well kept, and so the whole place boasted a fertility and beauty that could
only be matched by the legendary giant forests in the south. Tiny birds flitted
between the dark-green leaves of the pomegranate trees, and the whole place
was filled with the scent of lemon-blossoms and over-ripe pomegranates.
Especially my barbarian warrior, coming out of the deepest desert, was stunned
by the dense tangle of trees and shrubs, of fruits and flowers, and even though
he did so only when he was sure I didn't notice, wandered through the orchard
in awe. It was amazing to see this place through his eyes, and once again
my slave's marvel renewed the splendor of the orchard in my eyes.
So when one day I walked through the more remote part of
the gardens, slightly overgrown as hardly anyone came here except for being
alone, I could hardly suppress a fond smile when I found my handsome warrior
slave sleeping on the grassy ground, his back leaned to the massive trunk
of an ancient, gnarled pomegranate tree.
What a lovely sight this was. My grumpy, somber warrior sitting in my aunt's
lovely orchard, close to one of the tiny creeks used for irrigation, fallen
asleep in the shadow of a large tree. His face was so relaxed, so peaceful,
that for one moment, I could believe him to be a friend of mine, not my slave
who despised his state and me for being his owner. I sneaked closer, still
wondering what to say to him if he woke up, but he didn't.
Why did we have to end up being on different sides of a dispute neither one of us had started nor wanted? Why couldn't we just have a happy life together, or at least a passionate affair? Why did there always have to be slaves and masters?
But maybe, if he slept on just for a while, I could use his
dreaming to prolong this dream of my own.
And so, I sneaked over and settled onto the ground next to him, then slowly,
carefully, laid down with my head in his lap.
He didn't even stir.
Happily, I went on daydreaming, imagining a happier life
for both of us, maybe even somewhere else, where no-one would be talking of
neither princes nor slaves. The sun was still stinging, but the thick, dark
leaves of the tree sheltered us benevolently, and the tiny creek gave off
enough moisture to cool the air. It was lovely.
A light breeze from the river rippled through the canopy of leaves, making
myriads of tiny specks of sunlight dance across the orchard's ground.
With a pronounced 'thud', an over-ripe fruit from one of the neighboring trees
dropped off it's branch and fell into the grass.
Afraid my desert-warrior would wake up from the sudden sound,
I readied myself for a quick retreat if he noticed my sneaky attempt at some
closeness, but even though he stirred, nothing rejective happened.
Instead, most unexpectedly, he put an arm around my shoulder, holding me tight
as if truly I were his lover. Maybe, I wondered, he was dreaming of better
times as well.
Accepting this tiny gift with glee, I snuggled deeper into
his embrace, reveling in his gentle strength and the care I imagined into
this unconscious gesture.
This was good. Very good.
Actually, it was pretty close to perfect. Once again, I deeply
inhaled my slave’s scent, wondering how he managed to smell of leather
and sand and wind even though he was bathed regularly now. Moving a bit in
his gentle embrace, I turned my head around to have a better look at his face.
Deeply tanned, with fine lines in the corners of his eyes, he struck me a
someone who must have been laughing often, with an open heart and a ready
smile. Before he was captured.
Strange how captivity could change people.
And the strange markings on his cheeks. What weird superstition
he might have followed in allowing one of his fellow tribesmen to mark his
face with these signs? Maybe they were symbols of heritage, or rank. Maybe
there was more about him written in his face than he had ever told me. I would
have to ask someone in the temple of Bastet if ever anyone had taken up the
effort of transcribing this obscure language.
Probably not.
With a dirty smile, I followed the marks on his chest where many years ago, some beast had left it’s mark by raking it’s claws into his olive skin. Tracing the lines of his muscles, the bulge of his chest massive from my point of view, I could hardly suppress a longing sigh. He truly was a beauty, this unruly slave of mine, and so strong and fierce that the thought of his firm hands on my body set my loins aflame.
And this rising passion did not only affect my loins, as
it seemed, for suddenly I found myself seriously pondering seducing my own
slave. What a ridiculous notion. Seducing a slave. Next I would be paying
them wages!
And yet, the idea remained. Maybe when he wasn’t forced, but coaxed
into this passionate embrace I longed for so much, he would see that it wasn’t
all that evil what I asked of him. Grinning fiendishly, I decided that it
couldn’t do much harm, could it? Worst of all, he would bark at me,
curse me, feel off-used and soiled again. So nothing different than the last
days.
But maybe, I thought, I would have some little fun on the way there.
So I turned around once more, this time making sure that
with my head, I shoved up the simple linen skirt my slave was wearing. Supporting
myself on my elbows, I lay across his lap, facing down, and with great care
and a patience that surprised me most of all people that might have witnessed
this strange happening, I used my teeth and nose to lift away what little
cloth remained to cover the parts of my barbarian warrior I was most interested
in right now. Grinning at my own deviousness, I smiled down on my slaves manhood,
dark and seductive and sleeping just as my slave himself.
Dark, coarse curls crowned this object of my desire, and for a moment, I wondered
at what exactly I should do right now. But only for the shortest moment, for
before long, I found myself kissing the silken skin of his exposed manhood,
gently probing it’s length with my tongue.
I wouldn’t have done it hadn’t I been sure he
was cleaned regularly, but he was just so... delicious. I had to stifle a
giggle at the thought of the utter shock and speechlessness any priest of
Osiris would have displayed if any of then would happen to come across this
scenery. A Prince of the Realm sucking a barbarian, pagan slave. Unthinkable!
This image renewed the enthusiasm that I tackled the task I had in front of
me with, and consequently was rewarded with the utterly new sensation of another
man’s dick growing in my mouth like a young papyrus shoot. And by Horus,
he did grow, and I didn’t mind one finger of it.
And he still didn’t wake. At least, he didn’t give any sign of waking up or disliking what I did. Maybe he was awake already, yet convinced he was still dreaming. That was a thought I liked. Being mistaken for a dream is somewhat flattering, isn’t it?
Carefully, I welcomed his hard dick in my mouth, taking my time to explore every detail, every nuance in texture. Interesting, it was to me at first, but surprisingly and increasingly pleasurable after a few moments. He tasted good, not that he tasted of much, but something in the size and shape of his manhood seemed to make me chew and nibble at it reflexively, like some kinds of food you just can’t help but eat and eat.
What it would be like to go all the way with him in my mouth, I wondered. To feel him grow almost painfully hard between my lips, to sense the shivers of his climax in his body, in his soul before I would taste the burst that would shoot out of him, hot and salty, into my mouth...
Though this image was incredibly tempting, it held one basic
and terminally fatal flaw: it didn’t involve me and my body’s
desires even half as much as I would have liked. And going all the way as
I thought of would definitely wake him up. Either that or he would never wake
up in this world again, anyway.
But this opportunity held other options that promised even more fun for me,
and maybe even more of a relaxing moment for him.
So I began to untangle one of my arms from underneath me, keeping me well supported on my other elbow, and sneaked my now-free hand slowly between my dreaming lover’s legs. Gliding along the sinewy muscles of his thighs, my fingers reached his balls, and gently, careful not to break this moment’s spell by a rude of abrupt movement, I started to caress them, felt them tighten up against the hard dick I still held in my mouth.
This was going well, almost better than planned, I thought to myself, wondering how anybody could stay asleep during the gentle work I did.
But a low groan and a slight shift in my slave’s weight showed me that he wasn’t that asleep anymore. Maybe, he truly thought he was still dreaming, or he just felt far too good to spoil his fun by showing he knew who took care of his desires. With gentle insistence, I pressed my hand deeper between his legs, softly stroking the sensitive ridge underneath his balls, and as I had hoped, he opened his legs a bit more to give me more room.
I had to admit to myself that I had hardly any idea why he
let me go on with what I did, but also, I couldn’t have cared less.
This was such a perfect opportunity, and my fierce desert warrior was just
so delicious.
Maybe, he truly desired what I longed him to give me? There was a chance,
and maybe his funny tribal superstitions forbade such intercourse between
men. This would also explain why he had been offering himself that one night,
kneeling beside my bed, yet had bitten his fist to bloody tears when I made
love to him. Maybe, the way we had been making love was judged unclean or
demonic among his people, and he felt himself guilty for having fallen from
grace. So many maybes....
Probing carefully, I tried to push my hand deeper between his legs, though of course I would have to turn him around somehow before I could reach his entrance, before I could prepare him to host my own, nervously waiting manhood. But as I still pondered on how to achieve this without destroying our temporarily mutual intentions, my ever-astonishing barbarian slave offered the solution himself. Slowly, he sunk further down along the trunk of the pomegranate tree, leaving me gape in wonder as first his navel, than his chest moved along underneath my nose.
His legs pulled up a bit and spread wide apart, he seemed
to be all but waiting for me to enter him. I still struggled with this sudden
gift, as his hands reached for my head with surprising force, pulling me up
to his face into a passionate kiss first, than pushing me down between his
loins again, as if to finish the job I had started.
Now drowsy with passion myself, I forcefully had to hold back and keep with
the plan, for I still wasn’t sure of my slave’ intentions or if
he truly was awake or not.
Deftly, I took up my work at his throbbing cock again, but this time, my hand was caressing his balls only for a short moment, only long enough for me to be sure he was lost in his own dreams of passion. Then I let my hand glide further down, until my fingertips touched the slightly raised ring of muscle that marked the place where I would be able to enter my warrior’s oh so promising body, where I already twice had found pleasure as well as disappointment. But this time, I promised to myself, there would only be pleasure.
With a bit of spittle, I started to probe if he would be
willing to allow me in, and with a low groan, he accepted my first exploring
finger. It was a task more difficult than I would have guessed before, for
I had not only take care of my slave’s desires and my probing fingers,
but also of my own body. Touching his dick with my lips, feeling the urgency
of his desire so directly, made me almost painfully aware of my own manhood,
stiff underneath the flimsy skirt I wore, throbbing with just the same, urgent
desire. Seeing the first sheen of sweat glimmering on his dark skin made my
own body glow with heat, and all of me just screamed to jump onto him and
take him, for he was mine, my slave to use as I desired.
But my desire was to make him enjoy this, to make him want me to take him.
And so, I took great care to break neither the rhythm of my lips around his
dick nor my fingers inside of him as I began to move my body across his leg,
trying to move like a snake that winds about a log in the sand.
Substituting my lips with my other hand as soon as I knelt between my beautiful
slave’s legs, I worked his manhood carefully, skillfully, as I hoped,
until I was sure that even if he were awake, he would hardly be able to notice
anything beside the approaching climax of his passions.
Only when I was sure he was groaning with desire, only when
I felt his body relaxed enough to take me in without pain or effort, I moved
up closer between his legs, my needy dick hot against his hard balls. Hardly
able to suppress a shudder of desire, I used one hand to guide my manhood,
gently using my own weight to open the passage into his body.
As I felt myself glide into him, we both gasped in unison, the hot flesh welcoming
my cock making me want to scream. But instead of a scream, a loud groan escaped
my lips, and with the first thrust, I settled firmly between his legs, his
knees to either side of me.
I had hoped this love-making to be long and passionate, never-ending as they sing in songs, but excited as I already was, shivering with long-suppressed desire, I knew I would not need long before I would spill all my stored passion. Likewise, I was sure that my slave was only separated from his peak by a few movements of my hand, and so I gave in to what my body desired of me.
Thrusting into him with all the desire that had build up within me during the last days, I abandoned all semblance of restraint, groaning and growling and glorious with the freedom of raging passions. Hardly noticing that my beautiful slave had finally opened his eyes, I only listened to his groans echoing mine, felt his body convulse as he neared his peak.
Only heartbeats later, the first gush of hot semen slickened my hand, my slave groaning in helpless desire, more white liquid contrasting on the olive skin of his chest, I couldn’t hold on to myself any longer. Yelling my passion for all to hear, I released all the build-up tension, spilling my lust into my slave like the river Nile spills all over the fertile lands of Egypt, and allowed myself to slump down onto the broad chest of my barbarian slave, slick with sweat and semen.
Still panting hard, I was convinced that this time, he would
have enjoyed our coupling as much as I had, that this time, he would smile
when I looked up into his eyes. I cuddled to his strong body just for a moment
longer, trying to take in the scent of our bodies still hot and sweating,
to remember this for all times to come.
Truly, this was another, wonderful memory of my aunt’s orchard to be
added to my childhood’s memories.
----
Ardeth Bey (Oded Fehr)
I can not say how I managed not to throttle him there and then. However much I may have thought that I hated him till then, now I learned that so far my loathing had been a mere breath when now it was a raging storm.
Of course I had known that he could never be trusted to behave honorably. Still the last couple of days had lulled me into a false sense of security. On the journey upriver he had mostly ignored me and here, in the house of his aunt, there had been other ‘amusements’ to keep him busy. Not once had he touched me, not once forced his attention on me.
But who would expect the little rat prince to sneak up on me in my sleep? True, he had done so before on the night the assassins had visited his chambers. But then he had not tried to use me like he had done just now.
How dare he turn my own body against me like this? Still shivers of excitement ran down my skin like cool water. Still my heart was beating hard with the passion that had overwhelmed me. And with disgust I noticed that my arms moved of their own accord and drew the warm body of the little monster closer to mine, that one of my hands trailed down his back almost caressing as if it had a will of its own.
But whatever my body might think of this, the feeling in my heart were simple and clear. I hated him with as much passion as he had fanned in my body. Realization struck me then. It would not be enough to escape. There was only one way to restore my honor and that was to revenge myself on this arrogant boy-prince. And death would not nearly satisfy my hunger for revenge. He would have to suffer like I had. Now if I could just find a way to accomplish this...
The prince was oblivious to all my thoughts. He snuggled close to me trustfully, obviously sure that he had finally conquered not only my body but my heart and soul as well. Let him sleep, I thought. Let him believe this. Let him feel safe and victorious.
I listened to his breathing, listened as it evened out, as he slowly fell asleep. By the time he was deeply asleep I had also regained control of my traitorous body and now a shiver of disgust ran through me. The contact of his skin to mine now unbearable I disentangled myself from him. He was so sated he just slept on, when I laid him down beneath the tree.
Standing next to him I looked down on his sleeping form. So small, so delicate, so... pretty. And yet so evil, so devious. Why had the spirits blessed him with so many gifts when he used them so ill?
Looking down at myself I felt bile rise to my throat, covered in sweat and his semen as well as my own as I was. Now I really was unclean for anybody to see.
Leaving the prince behind I followed the little stream to a pond. Small colorful fish dwelt there and an old pair of ibises was napping next to it, eyeing me with curious interest, when I stepped into the pond.
I would never have believed it could be pleasurable to completely immerse yourself in water. When I had first witnessed the prince bath, I had thought it disgusting. But now the feeling of cool water caressing my skin was a blessing. I knelt down a few steps into the pond and started to wash off the evidence of what the prince had done to me.
I don't now how long I stayed there. It seemed like hours to me. First I just washed of the sweat and dried semen. But I could not stop when I was done with that. Still I was feeling dirty, scrubbing my skin with sand, scooped up from the ground of the pond again and again. I was trying to wash from my soul, what had soiled it, but the stain just wouldn't come off.
It was a long time till I noticed that silent tears were running down my face. A longer time till I realized why. Yes, he had used the passion his caresses could evoke in my body to seduce me. But the truth was, that I had been dreaming of making love, when he had found me. And I had been dreaming of him. He somehow had managed to find a way into my dreams as well. What kind of spell had he put on me? How long till I completely lost myself? How long till he truly owned me?
---
My father says that patience is a hunter's virtue and that I will never make a truly great hunter because I lack in that regard. I think he would have been proud had he witnessed how I faced the prince that evening, silent and forbidding as ever, as if nothing had happened at all. He of course, ignored the fact, that he had - yes, I really needed to face this and call it by its name - that he had raped me yet again.
He seemed to believe that our encounter this afternoon had been my finale submission to him. He was more cheerful than I had ever seen him. He actually asked me to share his dinner and chattered all the time, completely oblivious to my silence. He even tried to feed me some juicy bits of meat and - being the perfect slave yet again - I allowed it. It was almost funny. Almost.
At least now I knew what he really wanted: An exotic pet to spoil and use as he pleased. Well, damn his soul to eternal darkness, it would not be me. Not that I had any idea yet how to escape his plans for me, but my determination to do it was stronger than ever.
My father also says that the spirits watch over us, wherever our feet may carry us. That they are ever-present and gracious and that we should trust in their wisdom. I had never been a great believer in this. I honored my ancestors, as they are as real as my own hands, but the spirits had never shown their power to me so far and to me they seemed distant and fickle. This night I learned that they had stayed with my soiled soul during all of my captivity, conspiring to find a way to free me, when my ancestors had abandoned me.
And it must have been the wisest and most cunning of the spirits who worked together to bring to pass what happened after our strange little dinner.
But at first a quite ordinary evening unfolded. The prince asked me if I would show him how to play Snakes and Dogs properly. That was strange enough. The defeat he had suffered when we had played had rankled him deeply and I would not have been surprised had he never mentioned the subject again. Yet he obviously was willing to learn from a mere slave.
I had been astonished how simple and unimaginative his moves were when we had played. As if he was planning ahead a maximum of two moves. Or as if he was not really concentrating on what he was doing, even when he was obviously trying extremely hard to win. It had been fun to watch him fume.
But as teaching him meant we would spend the evening out of his bed, I was rather inclined to show him how Snakes and Dogs was played among the tribes. I was not an accomplished player, but I had mastered all the simple moves when I had still been small and never forgotten them. So I started with showing him some of those. At first he seemed to have no idea what I as talking about, but when he understood that there were certain combinations of moves that one simply went through to get to a stage where one could start with the next set of moves he grinned widely.
"You have it ritualized." he exclaimed. "How curious." Now he lost me with that comment, but he was an evil, monstrous creature of darkness so why should I bother to understand him?
A pale moon was already rising and the other slaves had extinguished all lamps but the one that was burning beside our gaming board when the prince finally decided that he wanted to call it a night.
He got up and stretched his limbs. I fixed my eyed to his feet again. "Will you come and share my bed?" he asked softly and I almost looked up at him. There was a pleading in his voice that was strangely sweet. I hated him. I had to remember that. Had to remember that he had forced me just this afternoon again. And still, his honeyed voice found his way into my blood and I felt my heartbeat quicken.
"Just sleep, no more." he added, still pleading but with much less hope. Our conversation during the gaming lesson had been easy, carefully steering away from any topic but the one at hand. But now he seemed to realize that I was still his slave. Better not to let him realize that I was also not broken and completely subdued yet.
'If it pleases you, my prince' was what I wanted to answer. To mock him again. Instead I said: "Just sleep, no more." and got up as well. Of course I knew that he would sneak up on me again in the morning. That his clever fingers would find their way to the spots of my body that would burn for them. That he would manage to arouse me yet again. But there was no running from him anyway. Nowhere to hide. Better to submit and let him believe, that I was under control. 'Just make sure that you don't get too used to being controlled', a sarcastic voice in my head noted.
I heard him draw breath to reply when he was rudely interrupted. The soft gauze curtain separating his chambers from the gardens was drawn aside and Senem-Nef, the prince's guard's captain stepped inside, immediately falling down on one knee before the prince.
We both stared at him in unabashed surprise. The prince had left him in Theben to help his brother find his enemy. I had not expected to ever see him alive again. Had I been the prince's brother I would have arranged a convenient accident to get rid of my brother's loyal guard. And the prince had probably not expected to see him so soon and at such a late hour either.
I was not really sure what to do. It would have been proper to either step back and kneel or withdraw altogether, to let the two 'masters' talk undisturbed. But I sensed danger in the tense posture of Senem-Nef and I wanted to be near to listen and act should an opportunity arise. Information was my best ally in this nest of poisonous snakes.
So I just knelt next to the prince again, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. But then, Nekhem was ignoring me anyway and for once Senem-Nef didn't seem to notice my presence either.
"My prince," he began, his voice full of emotional pain and despair, "I carry grave news."
"Speak!" The prince commanded impatiently.
"Evidence has been uncovered in your absence that you have been conspiring to have your father and brother killed. That you have planned to raise yourself to the position of Pharao. The High Priest of Osiris has been arrested on charges of high treason. Your father is convinced that he has been your accomplice. My prince, you are in mortal danger. The guards of your father are on their way to capture you, they are only a few hours behind me."
Nekhem stared at him wordlessly for quite a while. I was not sure if he was under shock or if he was thinking extremely fast. Both was quite possible with him. He always managed to surprise me, so I had taken to not expecting anything.
"But... but that's ridiculous." he finally stated. So it was shock this time. "Why would I do anything like that? I most certainly do not want to be Pharao!!"
Stupid kid, I thought. Still not suspecting your dear brother, are you? How could he be so blind and at other times so cunning?
"I know, my prince." Senem-Nef agreed, "But your father will not listen. Once he has made up his mind, there is nothing that will move him."
Slowly recovering the prince nodded. "Yes, you are right. But who could have arranged this? Obviously the same person who tried to have me killed! What did my brother say about this? He wouldn't believe this!"
I did not look at Senem-Nef when he answered but I could well imagine his expression when I heard the agony in his voice. "Prince, it was your brother who arranged this. I am sure of it. Only he has the resources. And he brought the 'evidence' to your father attention."
Again silence stretched and mentally I counted the minutes that had passed since Senem-Nef's arrival. Too long. All this took much too long. Didn't Nekhem see that every moment was precious now? That he should try to escape as quickly as possible, as long as he still could? At least his guard's captain seemed to think in the same direction.
"My prince, you have to flee. They must not catch you. I will wait for them here and tell them a false tale of where you have gone to lead them astray. But you must go right now." he said gravely, rising from his knee and gently taking the elbow of the prince.
Nekhem stood dazed. I could not tell what was going on in his head and Senem-Nef didn't seem too sure either, but he simply acted. He issued orders to have a few belongings of the prince packed and have a horse readied for him. Only when he was about to lead him outside did the prince wake from his stupor.
"My barbarian slave will come along." he commanded. "He could be useful." Now his guard's captain was shocked and I silently smiling at the floor and gave thanks to the spirits that I had believed uninterested in my fate. Unmoving I listened to the short argument between Senem-Nef and the prince, knowing who would win.
He was going to take me along on his flight. Him and me all alone in the desert. What more could I ask?
If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: Osiris Brackhaus & Beryll
go to PART 7