Guest of honor

At sixteen, Ammon already towered over his father and most boys his age, the rigorous training that his father insisted upon had toned his muscles, giving him a physique that even grown men would envy. Taught by the priests and scholars in the temple, Ammon was mature beyond his years and his actions and thoughts were that of a man twice his age, which made him all the more aware of the fact that Nenet was fast growing into a beautiful young woman.

He had spent the last two years watching over her and making sure that no harm befell her, only for his father to make her his personal slave. Seeing her sitting submissively beside him, Ammon had felt his blood boil in his veins and he had wanted nothing more than to lift her up in his arms and carry her out of there. He trembled and gripped the balustrade harder, as his eyes glittered and flashed with fiery flames, eventually turning the color of blood. From behind him he heard the sound of his guards approaching footsteps and he blinked rapidly, as the crimson faded from his eyes, returning them to their normal hazel color.

“Your Highness, Pharaoh has ordered for preparations to begin immediately for our departure at dawn”, the guard’s head remained bowed and his eyes fixed on the floor.

Ammon snorted dismissively, waving the man away with one hand, as he stood leaning against the banister with his brow creased in thought. It seemed the Pharaoh was anxious for his absence from the palace, but whether it had anything to do with his stepmother, he did not know. He knew that he could be gone for many months or even years and the thought of seeing Nenet again one last time was foremost in his mind, but first he needed to see Zahra.

He left his chambers alone, having indicated to his guards to remain behind, a request that was not unusual for him, as he frequently ventured out on his own. The guards assigned to the Crown Prince had grown accustomed to his movements and moods, and were fiercely loyal to him, but whether through fear or loyalty was another matter entirely. Ammon was fair and just but was easily angered and did not tolerate disloyalty or dishonesty among his men, lessons that they had been repeatedly taught each time someone was found guilty of either. He was ruthless and without mercy when it came to punishing and disciplining his men and those seeking to serve him were well informed before entering into service.

The kitchen was bustling with activity, as preparations for the evening meal were well underway, when Ammon entered quietly and stood unobserved just inside the open door, searching the room for Zahra, his personal slave.

“This is no place for the Crown Prince '', Zahra scolded coming up behind him and shooing him back out the door before anyone noticed his presence.

“I wanted to talk to you”

“Send one of your numerous lackeys then, that’s what they’re there for”, she stood facing him with her hands on her hips and her mouth turned down in a frown.

He didn’t respond but sighed instead, lifting his eyes over her head and gazing out into the darkening sky visible through the window behind her.

“I leave at dawn………for the border”, his voice floated softly on the faint breeze that blew through the open window.

Zahra didn’t bother hiding her surprise, staring back at him with widened eyes and a slack jaw, her lips moved but made no sound.

“I told you that this would happen and you know what to do while I’m gone”, he was looking at her now, his eyes boring into her with their intensity.

She swallowed and nodded, remembering that he had told her weeks ago that his stepmother would have him sent away to fight in the war at the border. She felt the momentary sting of fear but it soon disappeared to be replaced by her unwavering confidence in this boy that she had nursed from when he was just a baby. He was no normal child, this she knew, having been a personal slave to his mother before she had died giving birth to him.

‘Will you see her before you leave?” she asked, finally finding her voice.

“There is no time”, he paused and looked away before continuing, “My chambers will be searched after my departure, and I must have everything moved underground tonight”

“Yes, Your Highness”

He left her standing just outside the kitchen doorway and walked back to his chambers, keeping to the halls that were not normally used by the palace inhabitants as it was not his intention to be seen. His stepmother, Anat, had a multitude of spies placed everywhere within the palace and he knew that he was under constant surveillance, with reports of his movements going straight to her. He smirked to himself at the thought that she had no idea that he knew about her spies and had, on more than one occasion, deliberately led her on a wild goose chase.

He reached his chambers just as a young slave girl arrived to inform him that dinner would be served in the main hall and he was expected to attend on the Pharaoh’s orders. He gave her a curt nod and walked past her into his chambers, feeling the all too familiar anger rising up inside him once again and he rushed outside onto the balcony, breathing deeply to bring his emotions under control.

The night air had turned cool and a slight breeze swept across the desert sands, as the sun slowly sank below the horizon and the sky turned first gold, then bronze before finally surrendering to the blue and purple hues of the night. Ammon watched this transition with fascination, finding some semblance of peace in the majestic and inevitable sight of a spectacle that no man could control.

With his emotions back under control, Ammon walked back inside and exited his chambers for the dining hall downstairs. The Pharaoh, Anat and his stepbrother, Bennu, were already seated and waiting as the food was being served, Ammon offered no apology, simply moving to take his place on his father’s right.

“The guest of honor has finally arrived Pharaoh”, Anat announced, deliberately stressing the word ‘finally’.

“I am not blind Anat”, the Pharaoh grunted in response.

“Why are you late?” he asked, addressing Ammon.

“I have much to prepare for my departure at dawn and not much time in which to do it”, Ammon responded flatly while looking down at his plate.

“There have been more incursions south of the border and the situation grows more dire with each passing day. Time is of the essence”, the Pharaoh spoke in a somber tone in an attempt to impress upon his son the gravity of the situation.

“Indeed”, Ammon agreed with a slight tilt of his head.

“How long will you be gone brother?” Bennu piped up from across the table where he sat beside his mother.

Ammon glanced at the frail, sickly boy in front of him, noting that his health seemed to be deteriorating again, judging by the dark circles around his eyes and his pallid complexion. The boy would soon be fourteen years old but his body remained that of a twelve year old with barely any muscle or fat to be seen anywhere on his person. There was no doubt, in Ammon’s mind, that Anat intended only for him to sit on the throne while she ruled from the shadows because there was absolutely no evidence that Bennu had any potential to become the next Pharaoh.

“I do not know………perhaps I might not return at all”, Ammon let his gaze stray to Anat, who had been watching him with great interest until now.

“But who will teach me to fight with the sword?” Bennu paused with his food halfway to his mouth.

“There are many good soldiers who will remain here, any one of them can teach you if you only ask”, Ammon answered patiently.

The boy would never wield a sword, of that much Ammon was certain, nevertheless he took the time to teach him whenever he could spare it and he was somewhat amused that this was the boy’s biggest concern knowing that his brother would be leaving in a few short hours.

“He does not need to ask, only to give the order, he is the Pharaoh’s son after all”, Anat laughed derisively, shooting a glare at Ammon.

“No one said that he isn’t”, the Pharaoh replied before Ammon could respond.

The Pharaoh was well aware of the animosity that existed between his wife and son, and much like everything else, he took it upon himself to remain neutral and maintain peace and harmony within their family, however difficult that sometimes proved to be.

“Of course not”, Anat attempted a smile that was both false and painful.

“I still have much to do before dawn. Excuse me father”, Ammon rose swiftly to his feet, leaving his food largely untouched.

“May I come and help you prepare?” Bennu’s voice stopped him before he could walk away.

“Don’t be silly darling, you know that you are not able to perform such laborious tasks and you need your rest”, his mother interjected while looking meaningfully at the boy.

Ammon saw the look of hurt and disappointment on the child’s face and couldn’t help feeling sorry for him but it was not his place and he was not responsible for the way his mother treated him. Not for the first time, he turned his back on the scene at the dining table and ignoring the twinge of guilt inside he quickly left the dining hall.