A God Of Old Ch 02

1648 BC:

The Memphis night air cooled the room as Enkartep tossed and turned. In his mind were plans, details, and contingencies. He had an important task come the morning, but could not settle his mind to sleep.

A rustling sound from the door distracted him. Through the sheer curtain around his bed, he could see a familiar figure approach the bed.

"Hello, my love," Nahanit said, her delicate hand drawing away the curtain.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I come to give you strength," she replied, "before tomorrow."

He sat up in the bed. Her hand rose to unclasp her robe. The blue fabric fell away, pooling at her feet. His cock swelled at the sight of his lover's naked form.

Nahanit stood before him, her alluring body meat for his eyes. Her tanned flesh was smooth and supple, her pert breasts like precious orbs, her succulent cunt already wet.

She climbed onto the bed.

"This is dangerous," Enkartep warned. "What if he saw you leave?"

"I gave him a sleeping powder," she purred. "He will not wake until the morning."

He wanted to ask more, to make sure she had not made a mistake. But her hand moved to his loincloth, drawing it away, and he was hard.

She straddled him, taking his shaft in hand. He gritted his teeth as she rubbed herself all over the straining flesh, her moisture slicking the head.

"For now we must make love in the darkness," she murmured, nudging her lower lips onto him, "but after tomorrow you will be pharaoh, and you will be able to take me as yours."

He groaned at the words. Her juices trickled freely, the queen already aroused. His hands clasped at her hips, closing around the soft flesh. Enkartep pulled her down, wanting to feel more of her. The queen moaned as his thick cock parted her lips, sliding steadily into her depths.

The wet heat awaiting him was splendid. He had taken lovers before, but none like Nahanit. Her self-assured sensuality had been new and attractive to him. It had made him easy to seduce, he knew, but the seduction had become something more for them.

He pulled down harder, Nahanit groaning as his cock plunged deeper. He wanted more, and did not want to wait, so he thrust upwards. That sublime cunt was like paradise, clutching desperately at him, drawing him even deeper. He could not help but drive his length entirely into her.

She moaned, her hair beginning to escape from its bonds. Now securely impaled on her lover's length, she began to stroke at her breasts. One finger ran along the flesh of a nipple, teasing it; the other hand took hold of the other breast, squeezing, testing the supple skin. Enkartep eagerly watched the display, his cock throbbing.

The queen started to move, undulating her hips on him. Her juices streamed forth, soaking his length, the sign of her arousal. Her mouth opened, a soft sigh coming forth. Her eyes fixed on him; they were dark brown, like liquid smoke, the desire there making him shiver.

He helped her move, his hands steadying her hips. She fucked herself on his cock to her heart's content. The feeling of her cunt hugging closely to him was an indescribable feeling. He gritted his teeth as he felt his finish stirring in his balls. It was too soon, he knew, but his nerves and arousal were getting the better of him.

"Not yet," she told him. "I want to finish with you."

He smiled, already moving a hand off her hip. It went to her clit, where he stroked at her sensitive button. She moaned, moving faster, bouncing harder on top of him. Her moans multiplied until they were spilling out in droves. Her body began to tremble, her hands moving to his chest, nails digging into the flesh. The pain was nothing compared to the heady pleasure of the queen on top of him.

His fingers tortured her clit, feeding pleasure into her body. His own swirl of pleasure was coalescing in his testicles, close to sending his seed forth. Enkartep stroked harder at her clit, making her gasp and buck. His other hand moved to her breast, taking a strong hold of the pliant flesh, rubbing the pad of a finger along her nipple. She shook, crying softly at the sensations, her body at the point of absolute pleasure.

The queen came, drowning his cock in her abundant cream. As she quivered, quietly trilling with ecstasy, his own orgasm raced up his shaft. She felt him throb and swell further. Her unfocused eyes caught his; a small smile traced along her lips.

"Do it, my love," she urged him, "give me your seed."

He grunted, teeth bared, giving her one last thrust. Shivers of ecstasy burst out all over him as his load spurted forth, deep into her core. The queen moaned, grinding down onto his lap. Her tight cunt milked him for every drop of seed. As the last spurts joined the rest inside her, he stroked still at her breasts, enjoying the feel of her heated skin.

The night's breezes caressed the both of them as they panted, coming down from their shared high. The queen leaned down, resting against his chest. His cock remained hard, the closeness of his lover always arousing. She nuzzled against his shoulder, eyes drooping.

"You can't stay here, my love," he said, caressing her shoulder.

"I'm the queen, I can do what I want."

He chuckled. "Not if the pharaoh finds you here."

She moved, clutching herself to him, leaning forward to kiss him. It was a soft, loving kiss, one that made his heart yearn harder for her.

"After tomorrow that won't matter," she told him.

He nodded.

"Be strong, my love," Nahanit soothed, moving all too soon away from him. He watched her bend over to pick up her robe. She was the queen, but she was his lover, so he wasted no time in leaning over to squeeze at her ass, laughing at her surprised squeal as his hand tested the supple flesh. It felt full and warm, and she let him stroke it for a few more seconds. Finally, she broke away. The robe quickly concealed her lush body from his view.

"Do this for me," she purred, stroking his arm, "do this for us."

"I shall, my love," he said. "Come tomorrow, I will be pharaoh and we will be together."

She smiled. They gazed into each other's eyes for a few long moments, but then she turned to leave. He was soon left alone in the room. His mind had stilled somewhat, and he managed to drift off to sleep.

The next morning, Enkartep was consulting with the pharaoh in his chambers, overlooking the expanse of Memphis. The pharaoh's subjects were milling about, going through their quotidian schedule. Mersekhemre watched them from the balcony, his back to his high priest. As the pharaoh spoke, Enkartep palmed the vial of poison powder that Nahanit had given him a few days before. Two glasses of wine sat on the table before him.

"The builders are impatient," Mersekhemre said. "The materials are a day or so away, but they want to begin now."

"They don't understand that it is larger than them," Enkartep answered, opening the vial, turning it over above a glass of wine. A thin stream of gray powder spilled out, dissolving quickly in the drink.

"They will," the pharaoh said, turning back to his high priest. The vial was hidden again in Enkartep's sleeve. He picked up the glass of wine and offered it the pharaoh. The pharaoh took it and gave a sniff. Nahanit had told Enkartep that the poison was undetectable; it gave forth no smell nor taste. Nevertheless, he was nervous that something might go wrong. His own glass was still on the table, so he picked it up.

Mersekhemre raised his glass. "Drink, high priest, drink. Your pharaoh demands it," he said with a smile.

Enkartep raised his glass, eyes fixed on the pharaoh's, watching him bring it to his lips.

"The problem is," he said suddenly, Enkartep cursing in his mind, "that the builders do not deal with me personally."

"To deal with them is below you," Enkartep answered.

"Yes, I know. Were I to tell them to wait, they would be patient. Any representative of mine comes bearing my words, my commands, but that only goes so far."

"You have capable representatives, pharaoh," Enkartep said, taking a sip of his wine.

"Yes I do," the pharaoh said, again raising his glass.

Enkartep watched, waiting for the pharaoh to seal his fate. He felt sorry for him; the pharaoh had always been good to him, preferring his advice above that of others. But Mersekhemre's fate had been sealed the moment his queen and the high priest had fallen in love. All that needed to happen now was for the pharaoh to take that sip.

"But perhaps," the pharaoh said again, Enkartep gritting his teeth, "the fault lies with those delivering the materials. Surely they know to communicate with the builders."

"Yes, pharaoh, true. But why dwell on matters as these? These are for your underlings; they are below you."

"They are important matters, high priest."

Enkartep nodded. "Perhaps a sip or two of wine will soothe your mind, help you think."

The pharaoh nodded. "Sage advice," he murmured, taking a large swig of wine. Enkartep let out a deep breath; it was almost done.

That first swig was followed by another, the pharaoh wanting more wine.

A few long seconds passed, and then the goblet hit the tiles as the pharaoh grasped at his swiftly tightening throat. His frantic eyes searched out the high priest, who watched, a slight twinge of regret shooting through him. The pharaoh reached out for him, his fingers closing around Enkartep's arm. In seconds, the grip weakened and Enkartep watched as the pharaoh fell to the floor. Mersekhemre breathed his last, staring up at the high priest who had betrayed him.

The door opened, Enkartep spinning around. Nahanit had promised that they would be unbothered by guards. It also helped that the pharaoh trusted Enkartep. So he cursed, darting to the corner.

It was Nahanit, peeking into the room.

"My love, what are you doing here?" he asked. "You are to wait."

Her dark eyes quickly scanned the room, from the dead pharaoh to Enkartep and all around.

"Guards!" she screamed, quickly morphing into a frantic, squalling mess, "guards, come quick!"

"My love, what are you doing?" he asked, confused. He was to sneak out, to let the guards discover him. There would be no trace of his presence.

Trampling footsteps sounded from down the hall. The queen glanced back down towards the sound, holding up a hand for him to wait. He moved back towards the pharaoh's corpse, adopting a stricken expression, crouching lower.

A half-dozen guards burst into the room, spears and swords at the ready.

"The pharaoh," he said, pointing to the body on the floor.

The leader, tall and scarred, came over to look. His eyes widened, and quickly moved to the glass of wine.

"What happened?" he asked.

"We were talking," Enkartep said, "and then he choked."

The leader joined him in a crouch, reaching out to check the pharaoh. Soft, keening cries sounded behind them as Nahanit pretended to mourn the pharaoh. Both men looked back, Enkartep standing to go to her. He bowed his head.

"I am sorry, my queen. He is dead."

The guards were fixed on their dead king, so they missed the small smile that flitted across her face.

"I'm sorry too," she murmured. Faster than he could track, her hand shot out to squeeze at his sleeve. The sudden pressure shook the vial loose, and it slid from his sleeve to break onto the floor. The guards turned at the sound, each one glancing down to the broken vial.

Horror flowed through him. At the same time, the queen's expression morphed again, into incredulous anger.

"He did it!" she shrieked, stepping back, pointing at him. "He poisoned the pharaoh!"

The realization of her betrayal hit him like a physical impact. He staggered back, blindsided.

"My love, why?" he asked.

"He poisoned our pharaoh!" she shrieked again.

The guards moved to surround him. His eyes were still fixed on Nahanit. She was putting on quite the show, her shaking hands still pointed at him, her eyes wide and flowing tears.

"Kill him!" came another shriek.

Enkartep's instincts kicked in. As one guard moved, he dove past. The guards were strong, but slow, so he ran. There was one way to go, so he reached the balcony and jumped over. Below it was another balcony, so he landed there. Below him were more balconies, on each floor, so he leapt from each one to another. Above him came shouts as the guards called for reinforcements.

Unbidden tears threatened to fall as he ran for his life. His love had been using him, had seduced him solely for his help, and now had betrayed him. He could feel the pain, more acutely than if she had stabbed him.

He reached the ground level, and clambered over the short wall around the complex. More shouts came from all directions.

Enkartep crouched in the shadow of the wall, his mind racing to try to figure out an escape from this situation. The guards would spread the news; he would soon be pressed from all sides. He was a high priest, not a soldier, so he would not survive combat. There was little he could do. His underlings would not support him after they learned of his treachery. They would strip him of his robes and give him over to the soldiers. They would take away his sun key and give it to another.

A sudden idea erupted in his mind as he remembered the ever-present sun key, hanging around his neck. It was the responsibility of the high priest to keep it safe, to make sure nobody entered the divine chamber. The divine chamber was filled with precious relics and treasures, supposedly left by some of the gods. Enkartep had only been inside the room once, when he had first received the sun key; he had wanted to see if the chamber actually existed. He had heard rumors, of the mysterious room and its powerful and dangerous contents. He had learned that it actually existed; now he could learn if its contents were actually gods-given gifts, or simple deceptions on the part of some ancient high priest.

He made up his mind, deciding that he had nothing to lose. Shouts sounded all around him as he dashed for the temple. Luckily for him, his underlings on guard at the temple had not heard the news yet. When he arrived, they were confused, but let him pass. Seconds after he entered the temple, he could hear shouting from nearby. The guards had figured out where he would go. They thought he would go for sanctuary, when in reality his purpose was different.

In minutes he was standing in front of the chamber. There was no discernable door, just a patch of wall that looked similar to every other patch of wall in the temple. A lit torch blazed in its socket; Enkartep took hold of the handle and twisted. A grating sound came from the wall; a socket opened, revealing a circle, with notches all around the edges. It was the key to get to the keyhole.

Enkartep grasped the circle. The shouts came closer. He turned it to the right five notches, then to the left seven, then the right three, and the right six more. The sequence opened another socket, this one containing the keyhole. He slid the sun key into the hole and turned it. A creaking sound issued, and the wall shook slightly as a section receded. Enkartep slipped into the small fissure, the shouts coming closer now.

The chamber opened to the right. There were a dozen objects, arrayed around the room on stone pedestals. Enkartep knew some: the Hand of Horus, the Womb of Hathor, Ra's Light. But there was one which had crossed his mind, one which supposedly would grant the power of the gods. It was the Essence of Anubis; this treasure sat at the end of the row, in the corner. It was a small black jar, with nothing godly about its appearance.

Hurried footsteps sounded from down the hall. Enkartep reached for the jar; it had not been touched in a very long time, but it was warm in his hand.

He yanked off the stopper. Dark liquid swirled in the jar, beckoning him to drink. He raised the jar to his lips.

"High priest!" came a shout from the fissure. He turned to see one of his underlings standing there, panic on his face.

"The guards! They're here to-"

A sword erupted from his chest, his cry turning into a wet gurgle. He slumped forward, falling off the sword, the guardsman holding it stepping over his body and into the chamber.

Enkartep drank.

Back in the present day:

Kristin was worried. She had not heard from Stacy in a while; static was her only answer over the walkie-talkie. The rest of the pyramid was empty, so Kristin had doubled back, looking for Stacy.

She clutched at the walkie-talkie, hoping for Stacy's voice to break through any second. The duo had been exploring partners for a while; by now they were friends, so Kristin did not want anything bad to happen.

Maybe she found gold and is rolling around in it.

The corridors were empty, each turn hopefully taking her towards Stacy.

All of a sudden, there was a burst of static. And then it was clear, no fuzzy noises, no interference. She grabbed the walkie-talkie, anxious to hear from her friend.

"Stacy?"

There was no answer.

"Another priestess, how lovely," came a deep voice from behind her.

Kristin spun. In front of her was a tall, pale man. He was well-muscled and wearing only a loincloth.

"Who the fuck are you?" she asked.

"It seems my priestesses have forgotten about me," he said, stepping closer.

Kristin moved back, reaching for her Taser.

The man shook his head in bemusement.

"My priestesses have nothing to fear from me. Your sister priestess had the same idea, but she learned."

My sister priestess? Stacy?

"Stacy? Do you mean Stacy?"

He nodded. "I do not know her name, but she was the only other person here."

"What did you do to her?" she asked, raising the Taser.

"I told you, my priestesses have nothing to fear from me. I simply gave her pleasure. She gave me the same."

"Where is Stacy?"

He turned to gesture down the corridor. "She is with my warriors."

"Your warriors?"

"Yes. Perhaps you have heard of them too."

Kristin still had the Taser in hand. She was confused and still anxious.

"Relax, priestess," he soothed, stepping forward. She raised the Taser.

"You are lucky, priestess. The other one only had a small taste of my power. You will get more, though not all. My powers are returning quickly. Once I am at full strength the depths of pleasure I can give will have no bounds."

He stepped forward again. Kristin fired the Taser.

It hit empty air, as the man disappeared, as if he had never been standing there.

Strong arms encircled her from behind. She yelped, glancing back to see him staring down at her.

"Relax, priestess," he urged. She tried to push against him, but it was like pushing against steel.

"Let me show you a taste of what I can do."

A rustling sound hit her ears. At the same time, the cool air hit her naked flesh. She gasped as she looked down to see her clothes gone, leaving her vulnerable in his grip.

"Relax," he said again. His hand moved, and as she struggled harder, it went to her mound. She twisted and writhed, using all of her might to try to dislodge him, to loosen his grip so she could escape. Kristin wanted to flee, wanted to run away.

And then his hand touched her clit. A rush of sensation poured into that sensitive button and she cried out, half in pleasure, half in surprise. The rush flowed into her core, filling her with warmth. His hand stroked languidly, rubbing along the small nub. She gasped, squirming, less from the desire to escape and more from the intense pleasure flooding through her body. Her pussy began to dampen.

Kristin bit her lip, a groan bubbling up from her throat. She twisted back to look at the strange man, who was looking back down at her with a smile on his face.