Bathed in the blood of hundreds of men, the stained sands glowed eerily in the faint light of the sickle moon. It was like a graveyard; hacked and gouged and severed bodies were strewn across the land in thick, grizzly piles. The raptors had come hours earlier to watch the battle, and were now feasting upon the succulent flesh of humanity. Their squawks and the occasional tortured moans of the unfortunates yet living were the only sounds that pierced the silence that had fallen over the field.
In the distance, far enough away to avoid the stench of death, a group of men a score thick took shelter against the walls of desert stone. Lit by cheerful fires, they celebrated their success. The Hyksos raiding party had swept over the barbarian village like a locus plague; leaving none of the men alive, and spiriting away the spoils of war. Victorious, they indulged themselves on the best of life: food, beer, warmth, laughter, and, best of all, women.
Hardened by life in the Egyptian desert, these women were as courageous as their men. They also understood that, as death follows life, their new life would be considerably easier if they submitted to it with grace. As such, in the shadows cast by the fire, the grunts and groans of the triumphant were mingled with the delicate sighs and moans of their willing plunder.
Only one was left to herself. Proud and haughty, Nané was the Oracle Priestess for the goddess Bast. She sat alone, her hands and ankles bound, but her eyes glittered with a sharp cleverness that would have alarmed her captors had they noticed it. As the night wore on, she watched the men who had murdered her family fall one by one into a drunken unconsciousness. When all was silent but for the ruckus of their snores, she moved for the first time in hours.
With a quick twist of her hands, she slipped off the ropes that she had been discreetly loosening during the gluttony. She set at once on the knots at her ankles, and, once freed, Nané shifted into the shadows like a phantom in the night. Skirting the edge of the battlefield where the carrions would have been alarmed at her presence, she headed East, where she would find the Nile and her freedom by dawn's glimmer.
Her mind raced as quickly as her legs. She must raise the alarm; warn her uncle of the invaders who would soon be sweeping once more over the lands. Those she had escaped from were a scouting party; sent in to discover the might of the Great Egypt, Pharaoh Apophis. The King's seat was now in Thebes, too far of a journey for a lone woman to make. Nevertheless, Abydos was but a few hours journey overland, and from there, the warning would race up the river like the killing lunge of a crocodile; swift and fierce.
In a dark cleft of the hardened slabs of golden sand, a monster of a man stepped out. Before she could check herself, Nané slammed into his unyielding mass. He muffled her scream behind a massive hand that nearly covered her entire face.
"If you want the men who killed your family to come and rescue you, then by all means, scream away." The man's voice was deep and rasping, and fear speared into her heart when she heard the accent of the invaders in it. She wiggled violently, trying to escape his iron grasp, and managed to loosen his hold when she bit down hard on his calloused palm. But before she could get two steps away, he recaptured her with his uninjured hand.
"Damn little vixen," he muttered while sucking on his throbbing palm, "that hurt."
Nané struggles became more ferocious, but her demand was whispered; "Then let me go!"
"No, I don't think so." He twisted her around so that her backside was plastered against his front, and banded one arm around her waist and the other across her arms. Feeling her womanly curves, inhaling her flowery scent, he felt his head spin and groaned deep in his throat, "Mmm, I think I like you right where you are."
Her blood ran cold when she felt the spear of his need harden against her bottom, "Hyksos filth!" She would have spat in his face were she not imprisoned. "I am the niece of Ta-nuturi and a priestess of Bast. Touching me is forbidden! The King will have your barbarian corpse hanging by your feet over the palace wall."
"I very much doubt that, my lady." His hands were roving as much as Nané would allow with her continued fighting, and her serpentine movements were an enticement rather than a deterrent. Mdjai had never liked a passive lover.
Realizing that her strength was insignificant compared to his, she decided a more submissive demeanor might give her the upper hand. She stopped struggling, and slumped in feigned defeat against him. Her head dropped, letting the length of her hair cover her face before she pretended tears.
"Please," she begged, her voice hitching between her sobs, "I promise not to tell anyone if you let me go."
Mdjai snorted with laughter and replied sarcastically, "You must take me for a fool, if you think I'd fall for such pathetic acting skills."
Fury suddenly overtook her fear, and a red haze blurred her vision. With lightning quick speed, she swung her head back. A satisfying crack resounded in the empty desert as she broke his nose, but her head swum with dizziness from the force of her hit.
Her captor released her, raising his hands to his face as a stream of curses spilled from his mouth. Nané stumbled as she ran, trying to put as much distance between herself and the barbarian before he recovered from her attack. The back of her head throbbed painfully with each jarring step, but she forced herself on, blindly putting one foot before the other.
Blood poured from his nose and tears from his eyes. Pain bloomed from his shattered nose, through his entire body. Each breath was agony, each movement turned agony into torture. Despite all that, he went after Nané, driving on revenge alone. When he caught her, she would learn that her place was beneath him as he speared into her belly.
He had only taken two lurching steps in chase when he heard her squeal. Focusing in the dark, he saw another man had her pinned in his arms. Disgruntled that he would have to share her now, he picked his way to the pair, careful not to jar his injured face.
"Kahotep?" He groaned. Even speaking hurt. He would repay the little whore for what she did.
"What's going on here Mdjai?"
"She escaped. I've claimed her for my own when I caught her."
Nané's voice was haughty as she pronounced, "No man can claim a daughter of Bast. If you touch me, she will shrivel your manhood," she leaned forward to sneer into Mdjai's face, "not that there was ever much of a manhood there to begin with."
She didn't hesitate to spat at him as soon as he got close enough. The sharp sound of the flat of Mdjai's hand striking her across the cheek was swallowed up by the night. "Little bitch!"
Nané began chanting in a language long dead, known to only those who lived in the Temple. It was a prayer to her goddess, but the ignorant fools before her would never know that. Mdjai laughed rudely, but his eyes darted around anxiously. He reeled back his arm, preparing to strike her again, but Kahotep yanked her from Mdjai's reach.
"Leave her alone." Kahotep's voice was indifferent, but his eyes glittered like steel.
"But..."
Kahotep cut over him, his voice soft, yet hard as the iron blade sheathed at his waist. "She is no longer yours, Mdjai."
"You cannot do that; I have already claimed her as my own." Mdjai was attempting to sound as arrogant as his claim, but his posture revealed discomfort, and his face, fear. Kahotep was apparently either a very important man or, Nané reflected uncomfortably, a very dangerous man.
The hand that imprisoned her tightened painfully on her arm as she was shifted to the side. "Are you challenging my authority?"
Though Mdjai was by far the larger man in both height and bulk, he quickly looked away from Kahotep's hard gaze, then took a step back and hunched his shoulders in a submissive gesture of defeat. "Of course not, sir."
"Good." He turned his back on Mdjai, and Nané saw the large man stiffen at the insult. Nevertheless, he turned and walked away; anger making his step as heavy as a herd of cattle. When the crashing footsteps faded with the silhouette of the angry man into the inky night, Kahotep finally turned his attention to her, and with a start of surprise, she saw his eyes glitter with amusement.
"A priestess? Couldn't you come up with something more original?"
