Ancient Egypt:
Chanting filled the chamber.
Susuk stood in front of his fellow priests, reciting the words that made the Binding Ritual work. Terror gripped him as Enkartep watched them, but Susuk did not stutter, did not stop, the words by now coming easily to him. It had taken a long time to memorize them, to get the proper intonations down to perfection. He had known then, and still knew now, that all that time would be well worth it if their plan worked.
"What is this?" Enkartep asked, cocking his head.
No one answered him.
The god did not move, instead standing still, watching them curiously.
"Is this a betrayal of some kind? Did you learn nothing from the Battle of Khezresh? They even had the Sword of Set, but they could not get close enough to me to use it. And you think you lot can do what an army could not?"
Enkartep chuckled, watching the priests as they chanted.
Susuk allowed himself a small smile.
It was this arrogance that he and his fellows had counted on. Enkartep believed himself above them, so far above them that they could not hope to hurt him.
Their plan, however, did not involve hurting him physically.
As the priests chanted, the first step of the spell close to finished, Enkartep strode around them, his own smile wide and amused.
A sudden glow filled the chamber.
In an instant, the chamber became much more crowded, as every single one of the vile warriors that Enkartep had created now stood alongside him. The majority had been in the city, but some had been posted elsewhere, as a means to remind his subjects of his authority. The warriors chuffed and growled, looking around in confusion.
Enkartep chuckled again.
"This is your plan? You bring me my warriors?"
Several of the warriors moved towards the priests, but Enkartep raised a hand.
"No. It amuses me to see them think that they have a chance."
Your arrogance is your downfall.
The second step of the spell commenced.
While Susuk chanted the specific words, his fellow priests continued to chant another spell from the Book of Amun, a simpler one, which offered their strength to Susuk, enabling him to use the spell successfully. His own power by itself would have been far from the necessary level to make the intricacies of the binding ritual work.
Another glow filled the chamber.
The chanting stopped.
Silence filled the room for a few seconds, before Enkartep's wry chuckle broke it.
"So what was accomplished? Do I look defeated?"
Susuk shook his head, a smile daring to spread.
"Defeated, no. Trapped, yes."
Enkartep frowned.
His eyes raised to the ceiling, and a second later, a look of worry crossed his face. Such a look was rarely, if ever, on the god's face; the uncertainty there amused and pleased Susuk.
"What's wrong?" one of the other priests asked cheekily, "Can you not leave?"
Enkartep scowled, and turned on his heel, his warriors moving aside to let him walk up the stairs that had led down into the chamber.
Susuk waited.
After a few seconds, he heard a grunt of frustration.
"It cannot be," came Enkartep's voice.
Taking a deep breath, Susuk signaled to his fellow priests.
Each drew a dagger from their belt, and each plunged it into their belly, cries of pain erupting out in the chamber.
Susuk fell to his knees, his only thought that he and his fellows had done the impossible.
Egypt is free.
Blood oozed out from his belly, staining his hands.
He saw his fellows writhing in agony, the warriors' attention fixed on the stairs.
Enkartep reappeared, his face dark and angry.
When he saw them dying, he shook his head.
"No," he growled, his hands extending, "you shall not pass so easily."
Immediately, the knife flew from Susuk's belly, his wound mending, the rent flesh burning as it was knitted back together. He heard his fellows exclaim as the same happened to them.
Susuk stood shakily.
"Then kill us."
Enkartep shook his head.
"I shall not harm you," he murmured, "and neither shall my warriors."
The priests shared confused looks.
"Perhaps you thought you would die quickly," Enkartep told them, "but it will not be so. You will die slowly, growing weaker and weaker, no food in your bellies. One by one you will perish, until the last is tempted to ease his hunger with his fellows' corpses."
Susuk stepped up to Enkartep.
"Then so be it."
Some time passed, the seven priests sharing looks of triumph and joy. All of them had accepted that they would not survive; the manner of their deaths did not bother them.
Enkartep spoke up.
"Your plan will be in vain. My priestesses will find me and free me."
Susuk's smile appeared again.
"Are you sure of that?"
Enkartep nodded.
Susuk shrugged. A few of the priests shared amused looks; Akehar looked grimly solemn.
Enkartep turned to one of the other priests, Mabhar.
"What is the reason for this betrayal? Have I not been a wise ruler?"
Mabhar met the gaze coolly.
"We are not meant to be ruled by you."
"No? Who is meant to rule you?"
Mabhar curled his lip.
"The pharaohs. Those you betrayed years ago."
Enkartep chuckled.
Mabhar had been a part of this plan because of his belief that Egypt should be returned to its previous system. Other collaborators had different reasons. Akehar wanted revenge for Enkartep turning his sister into a mindless priestess. Omir wanted to get rid of what he believed to be an abomination, a man daring to proclaim himself a god. Whatever the reasons, many had gathered in the name of rebellion to throw down this despot.
"Your priestesses sure take their time," one of the other priests joked, sharing an amused look with his fellow next to him.
Enkartep frowned.
"I have faith in them."
A few priests chuckled.
"You find my faith funny? My priestesses are some of the best fighters, some of the best minds, and their loyalty is unparalleled. You seven and your plans are no match for them."
