Leahe was given two waterskins, instead of the usual one. They were hung on a donkey’s yoke, which was laid across her shoulders. She had expected to be carrying the load up to the marshes, as she did all day, but instead, she followed the convoy of slaves, all of them carrying similar burdens, towards the main roads out of the marketplace.
She had no idea where they were going, but in one of the side roads to the Marketplace, there was a cart. As she got closer, she realized there were several. Large transport carts, loaded down with large clay jars. So large they needed heavy oxen to pull them. Leahe carried the yoke up to the cart, and the soldier there took the waterskins from her, emptying the water into the large clay jars. There were multiple jars, each one half as tall as Leahe herself. She saw there were more carts on the way; all of them rolling slowly, keeping their progress quiet.
Someone’s stockpiling drinking water. Leahe realized.
“Back to the Nile, slave.” The soldier told her, handing her the empty skins. “You’ll need to make several trips.”
By the third trip, the weight of the yoke was enough to drive Leahe to her knees, when suddenly it was lifted off her shoulders. She looked up to see Ohad-Ittai. There were dark circles under his eyes, but his shoulders were able to carry twice the load that Leahe could. He gave her a smile. “You’ve worked hard all day.”
“So have you.” She couldn’t help but say. But even so, she knew his face. Ohad-Ittai had taken on extra work to match the quota of several of the women and older ones.
Free of the load, Leahe was able to help some of the older women carry their own water. It also put her in range of a few soldiers. What she overheard from them almost made the night of extra work worth it.
~~/*\~~
“We weren’t hauling water to the farms.” Leahe reported. “We were hauling it to a cart in the Market. They had huge jars. Big enough to need teams of oxen to haul them. Someone with money decided to keep a stockpile of drinking water outside Egypt, just in case the Nile turns again.”
Tzioni scoffed. “That’s why they called you out under cover of darkness. Nobody wants to admit they’re scared of Moses.”
“Ohad-Ittai tells me that several of the elites are making all sorts of stockpiles. They don’t get that the soldiers know where the stockpiles are. They have to. They guard us when we carry things.”
“Pharaoh won’t approve of that. Takarut tells me that the policy is one of total unity behind the King, no matter the situation.” Tzioni commented. “The downside of proclaiming yourself a god. It doesn’t allow for much in the way of other people’s opinions.”
~~/*\~~
“Seven days, and the Nile has flown clear again, just as Moses said.” Pharaoh declared to his Court. “Neb-en-toneb, you are High Priest of Hapi, the Nile god.”
Neb-en-toneb nodded, knowing he was doomed. “I appealed to the gods every day, every hour.”
“And it’s clear the gods were not listening to you.” Pharaoh said plainly. “Even one day sooner would have been enough to prove Moses a failure. I’m told that donations and attendance to your Temple were unmatched as the Nile turned on us. The Priests may have decided that the gods did nothing because we were taking them for granted, but nobody can say that now. Not about the Nile. And still you were unequal to the task.” Pharaoh glanced over. “Jambres. Jannes. You feel there is hope of salvaging this man?”
“We do, my lord.” The Priests chorused. It was largely formality. After all, if the Pharaoh had his mind made up to execute Neb-en-toneb, nothing could be done to save him.
Pharaoh was about to declare a punishment of some kind, when Bakennifi hurried closer and bent to speak in Pharaoh’s ear. The King’s face turned to stone, and he gave a nod.
Moses and Aaron came in. The tension in the Court spiked, just a little, but as before, everyone took their cue from the King, who was totally relaxed. “Moses. Aaron. I don’t know if you noticed, but the water in the Nile is crisp and clear this morning.” Pharaoh greeted them. “And your people are doing the work of the Nile even as we speak. I was willing to let them continue their work making bricks, but you decided to make it even harder on them, didn’t you?”
Moses took his spot before Pharaoh. Aaron followed him in, and at the old man’s gesture, stepped forward, and made the proclamation. “You have continued to reject the word we have brought you. Even after seven days without the Nile, you do not recognize the authority of Jehovah God.”
“I do not know this god at all. It is the opinion of this Court that He does not exist.” Pharaoh said shortly. “Your people have already had their workload doubled. If you try that trick with the River again, you will be punished.”
“We are men, mighty King.” Aaron said simply. “We have no power to turn water into blood. That power comes from someone you do not recognize as real.”
“You know what is real? The swords and spears carried by every guard in this Throne Room, and every soldier in Egypt.”
Aaron looked back to Moses, who gave him a nod. Aaron turned back to the king. “This is what Jehovah has said: ‘Let My People Go, so that they may serve Me. If you continue to refuse, I will plague your land with Frogs. The Nile River will swarm with frogs, and they will come up and enter into your house, into your bedroom, on your bed, into the houses of your servants and on your people. They will fill your ovens, pollute your food, and cover every part of the land of Egypt.”
“Frogs.” The King said flatly. “That’s what you plan to challenge me with?” He was almost smiling. “This is the stupidest threat that anyone has ever made.” He actually laughed. “Do as I say, or I’ll throw frogs at you?” He burst out laughing.
Everyone in the Court laughed too; immediately following his example.
During this, Neb-en-toneb backed away slowly, glad that nobody was looking in his direction anymore. Moses and Aaron made no reaction to the Pharaoh’s threats or insults, and made their way out of the Throne Room.
Once the Court was adjourned for the day, and Pharaoh returned to his private chambers, The Priests made their way back towards the Shrine. “You think he can do it?” Satau asked.
“Nothing alive has come out of the Nile for a week. And at the moment, I don’t care.” Jambres said. “We have a more urgent matter ahead. Your brother has invited Ashura to join us for dinner.”
Satau grinned. “Really. So things are getting serious, then?”
“Apparently.” Jambres nodded. “I’m assuming he doesn’t know about your night with her?”
“He’s my brother.” Satau assured him, glancing over his shoulder. “It didn’t happen. Not exactly.”
Jambres looked back with a blink. “Not exactly?”
Satau looked embarrassed. “She wasn’t really interested. Not in me. She only wanted to know about the magic tricks, during the first confrontation with Moses. She’s thrilled by the supernatural power being shown.” He almost smirked. “Khnem has more reason to worry about competition from Moses and Aaron than we do.”
Jambres laughed.
~~/*\~~
“It’s going to be fine.” Satau assured Khnem for the ninth time as they finished preparing the family meal.
“I keep telling him that.” Ashura said brightly as she joined them, kissing her lover hello, looking around the High Priest’s family quarters. It wasn’t the first time she had been there, thanks to Khnem, but it was her first time as a guest of the entire family.
Jambres came in. “Indeed? Am I really so scary?”
Ashura almost came to attention, bowing deeply. “My lord, you honor me by allowing me as a guest in your home.”
The formality came naturally to her, and Jambres took it in stride. “Dear girl, you are always welcome, if only for the joy you have brought to my firstborn son, to say nothing of the service you have given to the gods.”
The Priest gave her a few ritual oaths, and Ashura beamed as though she had just seen the gods come to life. Jambres let the dramatic, ritualistic tone fade, and he smiled like a father. “So, let’s enjoy our evening!”
The night progressed well from there. The conversation flowed smoothly. Satau recognized that his brother wanted his father’s approval, which was a surer sign of his growing feelings for Ashura than anything else he could have said. A few drinks went around before the attendants started bringing platters in, each of them covered with clay cloches, to keep the food warm all the way from the kitchens.
Khnem rose to serve, showing off a little for his beloved. “Ashura, I had tonight’s meal prepared by the royal kitchens. Faas owed me a favor, and I can think of no guest I want to impress more than you.”
Ashura beamed. “Smells delicious.”
Khnem lifted the lid. “Tonight, we’ll be enjoying-”
Ashura let out a squeal of shock as something leaped off the platter and landed in her lap. Satau and Jambres reared back too. “Agh!”
The food bowls were crammed full of frogs. Freed from the platter, they started bounding in all directions, scattering food and sauces everywhere.
There was a mad scramble as Jambres called for his attendants, and Khnem frantically tried to recapture them. Satau brought a basket to herd them into. By the time they sorted everything out, Ashura was in shock, her clothing ruined, and most of the room upturned.
With the frogs dispatched, everyone was still, Ashura breathing hard. Khnem rose, fire in his eyes. “Excuse me a moment, everyone. I need to go execute whoever laid this platter.”
Satau traded a look with his father and gave chase.
~~/*\~~
Khnem was storming towards the stairs, the look on his face promising a swift, brutal death on anyone who got in his way.
Satau ran to catch up with him. “Khnem, before you-”
“Don’t try and stop me.” His brother snapped at him. “If I think about this I might see reason.”
“Khnem, calm down!”
“This is embarrassing.” Khnem growled violently. “After what Moses said? Someone in the kitchens thought they could get away with playing a prank on the High Priest’s dinner guests, and I’m gonna tear someone apart for it.”
Satau caught his arm. “Yeah, but that’s not why you’re angry.”
His brother wouldn’t meet his eyes. Anger faded. Embarrassment burned brightly. “I wanted tonight to go well. I wanted it so much.”
“Brother, it’s fine.” Satau assured him. “It’s Ashura. Put her in a room with the High Priest and she considers it the highlight of her life. You don’t have to work to impress her tonight.”
Khnem sighed hard. “Do you think… Would she still want me if I wasn’t the High Priest’s son?” He looked over. “When you conjured that snake to fight Moses, she heard about it, and for a split second, I thought she was going to leave me for you.”
Satau sighed hard. “Ashura is drawn to power. Lots of people are. But in her case, it’s a particular kind of power. She came to the temple because she wanted to be close to the gods. To their power, and their holiness.”
“And I’m the closest she can get.” Khnem sighed. “Except the gods haven’t granted me power over miracles yet. You’re the one father is training as successor.”
“Doesn’t matter. It’s a fact of who you are.” Satau promised him. “You will always be his eldest son. You will always be part of one of the most powerful dynasties in Egypt. If you’re afraid that Ashura is interested in you because she wants to be closer to that power and authority, then relax. Because that power and authority is your birthright. It’s not like money, which can be lost, or property, which can be destroyed, or youth that will fade with time. Your path is tied to the gods. Forever. There’s nowhere on this earth that she would rather be.”
Khnem relaxed. “I know. My father warned me about such women, you know. But Ashura, she’s… she’s just so…”
“I’ve got eyes, brother. You don’t need to convince me.” Satau grinned. “Come on. Let’s go rip into the kitchen staff. Scaring the life out of someone will make you feel better.”
Khnem almost smiled and the two of them went downstairs. They were less than halfway there when they heard shouting. Pottery was smashing, and the kitchen staff was yelling in outrage.
And over it all, the croaking, ribbiting sound of a carpet of frogs. On the staircase, they could see the next floor down, and there were hundreds of frogs there, some of them jumping up the stairs to make room for each other.
The two of them traded a look and started moving back upstairs. “Well, I guess it's not a prank.” Satau said lightly. “Not one you can blame the kitchens for, anyway.”
Khnem set his jaw. “They’re just frogs.” He declared finally. “They’re not dangerous at all.”
~~/*\~~ Ryder ~~/*\~~
Ryder hadn’t been in a Kingdom Hall for a long time. Not since he was a teenager, really. One was much like another, even when holding a funeral. His mother had never wanted anything elaborate for funeral arrangements. She had been cremated, and Nate was bringing the ashes back to her hometown. The people she had known her whole life were there.
Some of them had been part of the congregation even when Nate and Ryder were there. They recognized him after a while, trying to place the much older face.
One of the younger people, a woman his age, was sniffling as she signed in at the guestbook. She noticed him watching, and wiped her eyes. “Hi.” She sniffed. “How did you know Martine?”
“I’m her…” Ryder tripped on the change. “I was her-”
“Ryder?” Said a familiar voice, and he turned to see his brother walking into the Hall quickly, a travel bag over shoulder. His face was unshaven, and his clothes wrinkled.
“Nate!” Ryder breathed and hugged his brother. “You come straight from the airport?”
“Yeah.” Nate groaned. “Between handling her arrangements, and the time difference in the flight, I feel like I haven’t slept in two days.” He reached into his shoulder bag and pulled out a cardboard box.
Ryder blanched. “Is that… her?”
“I had to connect a couple of times because it was so last minute.” Nate excused, opening the box and pulling out the urn. “I wasn’t willing to risk losing my luggage on the way to the funeral. Not if I was carrying mom’s ashes. But the hurricanes screwed up all the flight schedules-”
“I know all about that. I got the call when I was waist deep in floodwaters, reporting on evac’ed towns.” Ryder agreed. “It was good of you, though. To take her in for the last few months.”
“The treatments were knocking her around almost as bad as the illness.” Nate admitted. “I did what I could.”
~~/*\~~
The service was surprisingly crowded. It had been years since he’d attended a meeting, but Ryder still recognized some of the faces, including the main speaker.
The eulogy began with an oddly disconnected lesson, telling those assembled the story of how the world was formed into a Paradise, where nobody would ever get sick, grow old, or die; and how evil and imperfection came into it. It was all things Ryder had learned as a child from his mother, during a time when he had questions about the origins of life, and how the world began.
But once the lessons were over, others stepped up to tell personal stories of his mother, and what she meant to all of them. Ryder was surprised at how varied the stories were. It was a whole part of his mother’s life that he hadn’t shared in.
Then the first Speaker, a man Ryder recognized from childhood, stepped back up and gave some closing remarks. “1st Timothy 6:18 says: ‘Tell them to work at good, to be rich in fine works, to be generous, ready to share, safely treasuring up for themselves a fine foundation for the future, so that they may get a firm hold on the real life’.” He looked up at the audience. “Martine has more than excelled herself at that task. While we may all ache for her absence, however long it lasts, we can celebrate the fact that she gets the Real Life. As may we all.”
Ryder glanced around, and noticed that everyone looked… not happy. That wasn’t the feeling. There were tears in many eyes. And yet, there was lightness too. The people here were celebrating a life, and not just weeping that it was over.
Because to them, it’s not over. It’s paused. Ryder shook his head. How was I ever interested in this?
~~/*\~~
After the service, people broke up into groups, talking to each other, serving food and drink. Ryder and Nate slipped into a back room, full of books and bound magazines. A small reference library of the local congregation’s literature, but to them, a place to get away from the crowd.
“Everything’s changed since I was last in a Hall.” Ryder admitted. “New songs, they’ve updated the Bible translation…”
“Mom went to meetings every week, no matter how bad her health was getting.” Nate admitted. “It was good for her. Kept her spirits up. And of course, she was staying with me at the time, so I went with her…”
Ryder looked at him sideways. “Yeah?”
“I’d missed it. I don’t think I knew just how much I’d missed it.” Nate admitted. “But it was right that they held the service here. The brothers back home didn’t know her nearly as long as her friends here. And the brothers in my Cong were really good about it. I’ve only been back at the Hall for a few months, and yet they all rallied around me when it happened.”
“You decided to go back?” Ryder was surprised.
“Mom and I were talking about it before… well. Before. I hadn’t made a decision yet, but-” He held up a hand. “I know what you’re going to say. You think it’s guilt, after her death. But no, that’s not it. I was feeling the edge before she even got sick.”
“The edge?”
Nate rolled his eyes. “I’m a teacher. I see people close to burnout when they’re half our age. And I was going that way. The meetings… no matter how bad the world gets, it’s like there’s a protective wall around the Witnesses. Nothing gets them down for long.” He shook his head. “It was getting to me in the worst way.”
“You don’t have to tell me. I’m a journalist. I seek out the crazy and put it on TV.” Ryder sighed. “It either breaks you or it doesn’t… But if it doesn’t, you come out the other side harder than nails.”
“It never broke mom. Even when she knew the fight was all but over.” Nate said softly. “When she died, they all came. None of them knew me that well. Mom had been there for less than three months. The only reason she went to the meetings in my town was because she stayed with me for her treatments. But they knew she was a sister, and they all turned out to help…”
“You figure you owe them?”
Nate was silent for a moment. “Maybe I feel like I owe God.”
There was a knock. The woman Ryder had noticed before at the Registry was there, a man who was clearly her husband beside her. “Hi. Am I intruding?”
Ryder was about to say yes, but Nate had already waved her in.
The woman hesitated for a moment at the door. “My name is Eleanor. I know we’ve never met, but Martine talked about you boys all the time. She… She changed my whole life. And my husband’s, and I guess our son's as a result.”
Ryder didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t the first person at the Hall to tell him that. Nate rose, and gave the woman a hug. “She changed mine too.”
Her husband shook Ryder’s hand. “I’m Del. We just wanted you to know that if there’s anything we can do to help out, we’re here for you.”
“You don’t even know us.” Ryder commented automatically.
“No, but we knew Martine.” Del returned.
~~/*\~~
“Hey. How’d it go?” Karla asked quietly.
Ryder sighed hard, hearing the feedback in his phone. “It’s my mom’s funeral. There’s only so well it can go. It’s strange, seeing their faces again. I knew a lot of these people when I was eighteen, and haven’t seen them in so long…”
“Mm. Funerals have that effect.” Karla made a sound of agreement. “Dion wanted to know when you’d be back. They’ve got Maggie running my spots until you do. She’s… how shall I put this? She’s trying to take your job.”
“Maggie doesn’t want my job. She wants yours. I just happen to be a stepping stone.” Ryder retorted.
“I know. That’s why she won’t get very far. Dion will be asking my opinion of her skill.” Karla said with dignity.
Ryder chuckled. “You need me back soon?”
“I need you to be wherever you need to be.” Karla assured him. “You can take a weekend. You haven’t seen your family in a long time.”
Still haven’t for some of them. Ryder thought darkly.
~~/*\~~
“I thought dad would at least come to the funeral.” Ryder groused.
“He attended online. JW’s put all their meetings online too, for people who can’t attend. Been that way since COVID-19. We held the service at a Hall, so people could attend virtually.” Nate offered.
“I skipped work to come in person.” Ryder sneered lightly. “Why couldn’t he?”
“Guilt.” Nate told him. “Dad didn’t talk to her very often, even after she got sick. There was just… too much, y’know? How is he, by the way?”
“He made senior partner. Says by the time he retires, he’ll have his name on the side of the building.” Ryder reported, rolling his eyes. “Think it’s a bad sign that when we talk about our father, the first thing that comes to mind is his job?”
“Why not? It’s the first thing he thinks about too, I’m sure.” Nate offered.
There was silence as the waiter came by, taking their orders. The break in conversation cut off their momentum and they were left in an awkward silence. They hadn’t seen each other in a few years, their careers taking them to live in different places.
“It was a nice service?” It came out as a question, and Ryder wasn’t sure why. “A bit preachy. They talked more about the Bible than they did about mom.”
“It’s how Witnesses think.” Nate offered. “The whole point of a Resurrection, in one church or another, is that our lives aren’t really over yet. Haven’t even begun, in fact.”
“Real Life.” Ryder repeated the key phrase from the eulogy. “I don’t know.”
“You believed it once.” Nate reminded him.
“Believed in Santa Claus once, too.” Ryder said lightly.
Neither of them were in the mood to fight about it. Nate had been atheist for a long time himself; before he’d reconnected with Martine. Their parents had separated, when their father’s job had forced certain… concessions from him. Concessions that their mother wasn’t willing to embrace. They had lived apart for years, without bothering to divorce, neither of them wanting to move on. The boys had always felt caught in the middle, but Nate had taken over the care of their mother when she’d gotten sick; as Ryder lived in a different city.
“Don’t get me wrong.” Ryder said quickly. “It was… noble, the way you took on looking after mom, even when you had a full time job and all. But you’re a schoolteacher. You have to teach little kids how to care, how to think, how to learn… You think there’s anything in the Bible that helps kids prepare for life in the real world?”
“It prepared mom for the realest part of the world that there is.” Nate said honestly. “She once told me that death was the ultimate test of your faith, your character, and your friendships. Her congregation was back in your town, but they called and wrote to her constantly. My local congregation knew mom for a few months, and they adopted her like she’d been part of their family forever.”
Ryder felt a spike. Not like I did? Is that what he’s implying? I had to work, and she had him there, closer to where her clinic was…
Nate read the look on his face. “I don’t want to start any old arguments either, but… I’ve seen life without God, and when mom needed my help to attend her meetings, I was able to see things her way again.” Nate sipped at his drink. “I’m a schoolteacher. I see kids every day. Somewhere between second and fifth grade, they start to figure out what’s going on in the world. In kindergarten, they’re full of energy and laughter. By the time they hit high school, they’ve given up. You can talk about being prepared, but the idea that this world is what God had in mind? That’s horrifying.”
Ryder scoffed. “I’ve been reporting the news for most of my life at this point, and I wish I could disagree, but…” He caught himself. “No. I don’t want to fight about this. Religion, for us, has always been about our parents.”
“It was.” Nate conceded. “But it’s not that way for me. Not anymore.”
He kept the next thought private: ‘And with mom gone, are we still choosing sides between her and dad?’
“Well, I’m happy for you, if it helps.” Ryder conceded. “And thank you for inviting me out. We don’t see each other that often, and that’s at least half my fault-”
“Mine too.” Nate nodded. “A schoolteacher’s life, even with younger kids, isn’t one with a lot of disposable cash and free time.”
“Could say the same about a news producer.” Ryder agreed. “But I get to travel a little.” He sipped his drink as their waiter came back with plates of food. “When do you go back?”
“I got a round trip ticket. I’ll be on the Red Eye home.” Nate shrugged. “All I could get on such short notice.”
“Oof. Talk about Jet Lag. I know those flights well.” Ryder grinned. There was another pause as the waiters dropped off their meals. He lifted his glass. “Anyway, even if it’s not Real Life, I get to inform the public of what’s happening in the world, and you get to inspire and shape young minds… However difficult it might be to do either with all the rules and cost-cutting measures we gotta live with.”
“Ha!” Nate barked in rueful agreement.
“It’s still a good life. I think mom would be proud of us.” Ryder offered.
“Amen to that.” Nate agreed, picking up his drink. “Here’s to the good life.”
~~/*\~~ Satau ~~/*\~~
A few days passed, and the frogs just kept coming. They were in every bed when you woke up, underfoot in every room. The sound of them was constant. At first, there was alarm as people were suddenly inundated with frogs. Then a few days passed, and people got over their fear, and had to deal with it. There was no opportunity to call someone else to do something about it, because they were in every household.
The Temple was filled with frogs. All of them were. The goddess Hekt took the form of a Frog, and Hapi, the Nile god was always associated with such animals. But it wasn’t really working out for them. People flocked to their Temples trying to seek relief, but they couldn’t drive the wave of frogs out any more than the roving gangs of teenagers with their sharp sticks could keep up with them.
Satau went to his brother’s quarters, and found Ashura there, hair bound back, out of the way. She had a sharp knife in one hand, and a frog in the other. Her stained hands suggested it wasn’t the first, though there was a knee-high barricade made of furnishings at the door, keeping them in. He stepped over it carefully. “I was looking for Khnem?”
“He’s not here.” She reported, as she threw the dead frog out the window. Like every other room in the Palace, the frogs were in every awkward spot, under the bedsheets, behind the chair.
“I called and called, but he didn’t answer. Either he’s not in the building at all, or he can’t hear us over the constant croaking.” Satau looked around. She built a barricade to keep them in? “You know that there’ll be more as soon as you’re done, right?”
“I know.” She didn’t seem concerned. “To be honest, I don't even hear the constant sounds they make anymore.” Ashura said to Satau as she casually snatched a frog up off the ground and gutted it with her knife. She pulled apart the entrails for a moment, and then tossed the carcass out the window. “It’s the smell, more than anything else.”
“The smell isn’t even from the frogs. It’s from the squished ones. Even if we weren’t trying to wipe them out by hand, you’d think being out of the water would do the job.” Satau agreed. “There are some predator species that feed on Frogs, but... They can’t move, they’re so stuffed.”
“Some of the Acolytes have dedicated their time to smacking frogs.” Ashura snatched up another frog, gutted it, checked the innards, and threw the body out the window. Her manner suggested she’d been doing it long enough that it had become rote. “They can’t keep up either.”
“So what makes you think you’ll have better luck?” He asked, nonplussed.
Ashura suddenly noticed his scrutiny of her actions, as though just realizing that it probably looked odd. “Oh. Your brother gave me a beautiful gold pendant yesterday. It’s in the image of Khepri. I only took it off to sleep, and when I woke up-”
Satau struggled not to laugh hysterically. “One of these things ate it?”
“Well I can’t find it anywhere else, and it was small enough. Swinging on a chain, it probably looked as appealing to them as it did to me. Khepri is a scarab god after all.” She plucked up another frog, cut it open, and looked into its stomach. “I’m not lucky enough to think the little vermin choked on it, so I have to stop them from leaving the room until I can check them all.”
Satau laughed. It really wasn’t funny, except that it almost was. “If you see Khnem before I do, would you let him know that my father has summoned the High Priests of Hapi and Hekt to the Palace for a word with the Royal Court.”
Ashura nodded. “I’m guessing it won’t be a cheerful word, either.”
~~/*\~~
Satau was making his way back to the Palace, when he saw Leahe being brought in. She was one of a group of seven slave women. They were being marched into the Throne Room. Satau followed, despite himself, trying to pretend he was less interested than he was.
In the Throne Room, the Court was absent. The guards directed the women over to the side and made them stop there. Also assembled before the throne, with a guard of their own, were four members of the kitchen staff. The King strode in, glaring at the lot of them, before sitting on his throne. With a yelp, he jumped up again, and turned to sweep a frog off his chair. Nem-ur, beside him, almost smiled, but hid it carefully when his father looked.
The King spoke to his staff. “The four of you are slaves in the kitchens. It’s far better work than what you’d get in the Pits.”
“We are… grateful, my lord.” One of the slaves said politely.
“You think I’ve brought these women here as your replacements.” The King gestured to Leahe’s group. “I haven’t. My Generals assure me that if the Plagues keep replacing members of my hierarchy, or my staff, it will eventually weaken Egypt’s position. I suppose they’re right about such things, but… Well, there are always exceptions.”
Satau felt his heartbeat speed up.
“These women were chosen at random from the work parties around our farmlands.” Pharaoh said politely to his kitchen staff. “Now then. You have likely heard that some of the Bakers have been… removed, for serving bread to my wife and son, apparently unaware that frogs had gotten into the mix.” He kept that terrifying calm on his face. “This made the bread quite unenjoyable to eat.”
One of the trembling kitchen staff dared to speak. “My lord, we work the grindstone for the flour, but-”
“Fear not, I know that none of you were responsible.” Pharaoh said lightly. “After all, it wouldn’t be good sense for a slave to have direct access to the master’s food supply. Especially not now.”
This time Prince Nem-ur did chuckle.
“However, word has reached my ears that when you heard about your masters in the kitchens being rightly punished for the error, you were pleased. Pleased enough, in fact, that some have wondered if you would take action to prevent frogs from appearing in my food again.” The Pharaoh rose from his throne, and went over the Leahe’s group. “You, girl.” He said to Leahe. “Choose one of your companions. Any one you wish.”
Leahe was horrified. She didn’t know what the choice was about, but she knew it was going to be bad. “I…” She looked around at them, clearly knowing them all by name.
“If you don’t choose one, then all of you will be chosen.” Pharaoh warned.
“Then I choose myself.” Leahe said immediately.
Despite himself, the King paused at that, looking back at her. “That’s… honorable.” He decided. “I wonder if an Egyptian would have done the same in your place.” He let out a breath. “It’s a fine deed, but it changes nothing.”
He signaled his guards, who drew Leahe from the group, and held her still. One guard held her by the shoulders, another guard pulled her arm out straight.
The Kitchen slaves realized what was happening instantly. “My lord, please!” One of them begged, dropping to her knees. “She’s never even seen the Palace kitchen! It was an accident! It won’t happen again.”
The Pharaoh held up a hand. “I know it won’t.” He said soothingly.
Leahe let out a whimper of fear, but fought to keep her chin up, and her eyes clear as one of the guards drew his sword.
“Please! Please, great Pharaoh!” The slave threw herself to her knees at Pharaoh’s feet. “She has nothing to do with any of this! I don’t even know her name!”
“You don’t have to.” Pharaoh crooned, and took the drawn sword from his guard. “She is one of your people, and she is being punished, because of your error with regards to these frogs. If you think these Plagues are making us weaker in some way, let this stand as a lesson: You’re hurting yourselves a lot worse.”
Watching with some of the other attendants, Satau felt a spike go through him. I have to stop this! He thought wildly. I have to do something! What can I do? What can I do except get myself punished alongside her?
Leahe looked over to Satau. It was clear she had recognized him. Her expression was impossible to read. Is she judging me? Is she asking for help? I can’t save her, can I?
Satau looked down and found he was edging his way forward, as if his feet were trying to take him to her. Why do I care? I’ve seen hundreds of executions. They’re only slaves. Why is this different? Because I’ve met her family? Because I happen to know her name? Because I happened to find her attractive? Because the Prince offered to give her to me?
The Prince! Satau thought suddenly. He could stop this, couldn’t he? If he remembered her?
Satau looked to Nem-ur, who was enjoying the show. It was clear he didn’t remember Leahe at all…
Slash! The King brought the sword down, swift and clean. Leahe’s arm was sliced off, just below her elbow. Leahe howled, and one of the kitchen slaves fainted, the rest sobbing. The other women who had come in with Leahe were clutching at each other, bawling.
“If this ever happens again, I’m going to keep removing parts from your fellow slaves.” The Pharaoh said to his kitchen staff, still so agreeable and patient. He went back to his throne, swept the frogs off it, and sat down. “And the rest of these women will, of course, remain in the Palace as my… guests, until the Plague of frogs has ended.” Pharaoh decreed, already done with the matter. “Go back to work. Get this filth out of here.” He pointed at Leahe’s arm, still on the polished marble floor. “Have that sent to the kitchens. It’s all that these slaves will get offered for dinner tonight.”
With the Pharaoh done with the matter, everyone was free to move. One of the slave women tore a long strip from her ragged clothing and tried to bind a tourniquet around Leahe’s bleeding arm.
Finally able to compel himself into action; Satau darted forward and scooped up Leahe in his arms, hurrying her out of the Throne Room, towards the healers. He ran, carrying her. She had passed out, her face ashen from blood loss.
“You can toss her out the window up here, Acolyte- You’re Making A Mess!” The attendants shouted after him, annoyed at the blood dripping behind him. “We have to clean that up, you know!”
~~/*\~~
Satau prayed to all the gods, including Jehovah, asking for faster feet and a miracle to save her life. He made it to the healers, and shouted for help.
The physicians reacted immediately, until they saw her. “She’s a slave.” The Chief Physician said blankly. “We don’t deal with disposals here.”
“She’s dying. Save her life!” Satau barked at them.
“She’s just a slave.” The Physician repeated, as though Satau hadn’t heard him. “We can’t waste medicines on her, for the same reason we don’t treat livestock.”
Satau pushed past him and set her down gently on a surgical table, then turned back to the Physician. “Let me put this another way.” He said carefully. “My father is the High Priest of Ptah, and representative of all the Temples before Pharaoh. Which means you aren’t fit to lick the frog filth off my sandals. You will follow my orders, or I will make sure you eat nothing but frog filth out of our gutters for the rest of your short, miserable life, and then I will appeal to all the gods that your soul spends eternity being used for target practice by Hathor’s minions! I will place a curse upon your entire family to make their innards melt! I will-”
The Healer had gotten the message. “I need my surgical tools over here!”
~/*\~~/*\~~/*\~
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