CHAPTER 1: "I WOULD BE A WARRIOR"
Year 3, Third Month of Inundation, Day 10 in the reign of Shekem Ra-Mesh The Third, King of Kamit, the strong Heru, endowed with life.
Master Shu-ha sat high upon the raised platform of teaching. His legs were crossed in the traditional manner and in his lap lay three scrolls of papyrus. The candles of teaching burned brightly in their tall golden holders behind him, the flames flickering over his shoulders, the light gleaming from the sides of his brown, bald head. He lifted one scroll, scanned it briefly and addressed his students.
"Who can tell me, words exactly, where are the Kamitians are from?"
I knew the answer. I had studied ancient traditions well. It was one of my few passions in learning. I was in a foul mood though, and so kept silent.
"Come, speak up," Master Shu-ha exhorted. "You who will be apprentice scribes on the morrow, speak up!"
Many students sat in the chamber of learning. Among the candles of enlightenment were those from as far north as Bekhten and as far south as Upper Kush. The right hands of all who would graduate on the morrow shot up, except mine. I was in a foul mood.
"Memna-un," Master Shu-ha said. "You know the answer. Speak it! Words exactly!"
I knew he would choose me. It was like this always. I, the reluctant student and he, the determined teacher. There had been many bouts with the rod between us over the years, but I had learned.
"Yes, Master Shu-ha," I replied. "From the writings of Hunefur: We are the Kamitians. We come from the Valley of Beginnings, near the Mountains of the Moon, where Neter Hapi dwells. We followed the waters of Hapi in the time of Ausar to partake of the gift of life and goodness, here, where Hapi touches the Great Green. We are the Kamitians, we come from Ta-Neter."
"Very good, Memna-un," Master Shu-ha said. "Next time, no hesitation."
He lifted another scroll and unrolled it. Each of the many students in the chamber waited silently, eyes forward, anxious for the next question. Except me. I dipped my brush into its ink and started a drawing of Khepera, the beetle, on my palette.
Master Shu-ha looked up, gazing into the faces of his students. "Now, who can say, words exactly. Who are the sacred ancestors of the Kamitians?"
I put down the brush quickly, smiling innocently as his eyes touched mine. He squinted and looked on to the next student.
"What is their nature?" he went on. "Where do they dwell?"
The hand of Amistan, son of Bekhtan ivory traders, rose high. The
Master nodded and Amistan spoke.
"From the writings of Shekem Pepi the Second, in the land west of Ta-Neter and south of the seat of Hapi, live the sacred ancestors of the Kamitians. Here in the shadow of the Mountains of the Moon dwell the Anu, the small ones, strong of magic."
Master Shu-ha seemed very pleased. Leaning forward with the papyrus in both hands, he congratulated the student from Bekhtan.
"You know well the traditions of the Kamitians for one so new among us. Speak on, son of the north. What else do these writings say?"
"As the first of all peoples," Amistan continued, "The Anu dwell daily with the Neters. It is their song that drowns the wailing of Setesh, it is their dance that brings smiles to the faces of the Neteru and makes fertility from womb to tomb. No man can keep the Anu bound. No man can stay the Anu's magic. Hail to the Anu! They dance the dance of life!"
The room suddenly exploded with clapping and enthusiastic cries. Not only did Amistan know the words exactly, but he had made good speech from his knowledge.
"Good speech, Amistan," said Master Shu-ha. "You will do well at your post in Bekhtan."
I did not join in the praise of Amistan. Giving him a sidelong glance, I went back to drawing my beetle. Master Shu-ha must have noticed, for an instant later his rod landed atop my palette, violently knocking it from my lap, spilling ink across the floor.
"Memna-un!" he cried. "You try my ka! Why do you not give praise to your fellow student for good speech? Why do you not pay attention in the House of Life?
The rod swished menacingly past my face as he drew it back. I no longer feared his stick, but I had gained a healthy respect for it. I knew speaking plainly would likely earn me a taste of it, but I spoke nonetheless. I was in a foul mood.
"Great Master," I cried angrily. "He is a northerner! He comes from a land where great speech means nothing, where the love of Maat is unknown! They curse the Universal Principles in his land! It matters not how well he speaks, for soon he shall be back among them. His space should be filled by one from a Kushite land..."
Indignant cries went up from many in the room, especially the other northerners. I heard some voices of agreement, though, especially the students from Upper Kamit and Lower Kush. The murmurs grew louder and louder.
"Silence!" cried Master Shu-ha. "Be silent all of you!"
The Master paced the floor as the room grew quiet. Holding his rod behind his back, he bowed his head as he searched for the right words. Thenhe whirled around towards me.
"It is true that most northerners cause trouble, as some Kushites have been known to do also. But what makes you think that they can not know Maat?"
I spoke hesitantly, knowing that a debate with Master Shu-ha could only end with my total defeat and likely humiliation.
"But...but look at their lands. They go about like wild game..."
As I talked, Master Shu-ha picked up the last papyrus. He looked at it and nodded. He wore a knowing smile as he looked up at me.
"You know as well as I Memna-un, that all northern lands are not like that. Noble Hattie and Alashia are two examples. Here is the last lesson, Memna-un: What was the first task of Ausar when he learned to perceive Maat?
I nearly choked. I knew the answer, and it made my argument worthless. Master Shu-ha knew this also.
"Speak, Memna-un! Words exactly! "
I looked around at the other students. They were all staring. Some of the northerners smirked, but Amistan looked sympathetic. I gathered my strength and obeyed my teacher.
"The first task of Ausar was to deliver the Kamitians from the wilderness and harsh living. To teach them the ways of cultivation and the prosperity of living in Maat, great Ausar led the Kamitians down the course of Hapi to the richness of the black valley. With freedom from earthly want there came time for the progress of the spirit. Next Ausar and Great Mut Auset created the fertility rituals...."
"That is enough," Master Shu-ha said. "You will never be a great scribe until you learn to apply the wisdom you recite. Get to your feet, student."
I stood before the Master. I was the tallest student in class; indeed, the tallest youth in the district, and I towered over him. He looked up into my face, flexing his rod. He was not intimidated.
"I know you have recently passed your rites, Memna-un. You are now a man. The time of the rod is over for you."
I breathed a sigh of relief as Master Shu-ha shook his head.
"I know not the reason for your anger, Memna-un, but you will now go to the Hall of the Chambers of the Neters. Let your head rest with Heru so your ka may know peace."
I gathered my palette, paints and brushes and strolled toward the entrance to the Hall of Enlightenment. The candles along the walls flickered as I walked past, playing dramatically with the shadows of all the students. Before I parted the curtain, I turned to look at the class. Sitting on their mats, they all seemed so content, so at peace with their destiny, but I was not. Though I would graduate on the morrow, I knew that the life of a scribe would not be mine.
I walked down the long corridors of the House of Life, past the dramatic paintings and huge statues of the governor and governess of wisdom and learning: Great Tehuti, with the face of the wise ibis bird, and Sofik Aabut, whose beautiful, piercing eyes bore the wisdom of womanly understanding. They seemed to stare down upon me, asking me, "Why? Why were their gifts not enough to calm my restless ka?"
I turned down the Hall of the Chambers of the Neters and walked past the images of Amen, Ra, Ausar
and Auset. Finally, I stood before the Chamber of Heru and read the inscription above the curtains: Enter Blind Heru.
I entered the chamber, lifted the candle from the table at the entrance and closed the curtains behind me. The altar of Heru gleamed before me in sparkling gold, silver and inlaid lapis-lazuli. A golden statue of Heru, emerging from his lotus and wearing the crown of kingship, dominated the altar.
Beside Heru lay the golden crook and silver flail. A stalk of frankincense poked out from a holder before the statue and all sat atop strips of red and white weave-cloth. Bending the candle slightly, I lit the frankincense. As the smell of the fragrant stalk wafted throughout the chamber, I took up the crook and flail and seated myself on the floor before the altar.
"As the strong Heru subdued Set," I said, "my ka will subdue the followers of Set." I then breathed deeply and focused on the image of the governor of the will. "Begone, Children of Impotent Rage," I said. "Begone, foul followers of Set."
I grasped the crook and flail tightly, closing my eyes as the image of Heru took shape in my mind, growing in sharpness and intensity. There he stood before me, wearing the crown and holding the implements of sovereignty that were now in my hands. His eyes gleamed as he searched my mind for his prey. Then he thrust his beak menacingly, hungrily for the blood of the Children of Setesh. Each time his beak thrust forward, calm washed over me, freedom from the raging emotions, the wicked spawn of Set.
I was at rest with Heru for a long while, losing all sense of time or place, when on the edge of my consciousness I heard the tinkling of the bell of awakening. Slowly I struggled out of the place within myself as Heru faded. Opening my eyes, I saw that the candle on the altar had burned out, but light came in from behind me.
Master Shu-ha stood in the doorway, holding the curtain open. As he placed the bell back in its place, he said gently, "Memna-un, it is time to depart the House of Life."
I stood up slowly, replacing the crook and flail, then turned towards the entrance. Glancing up, I noted the words above the exit.
"Leave in Peace, Great Heru, your eye has now been restored."
Master Shu-ha was observing me closely as I slipped through the curtain.
"You have been in the chamber for a long time Memna-un," he said. "Come, we must talk."
As we strolled down the corridor towards the great doors of the House of Life, Master Shu-ha nodded in approval. "Memna-un, now that you are refreshed by the Neter, tell me...what troubles you so?"
We strolled out onto the landing before the entrance and stood between the House of Life's giant white pillars. Master Shu-ha looked inquisitively into my face, saying, "You have been a difficult, but brilliant student, Memna-un. Your scribal skills are unmatched by any in your class. Many posts await one such as you. Perhaps in the court of Shekem Ra-Mesh himself...."
I turned from the face of my teacher, gazing across the endless sand south of this place of learning. I imagined myself tallying boats and counting wheat. Jotting down names of those who had grievances in the courts of Maat and recording the building projects of the Shekem. None of these was what I wanted.
"Master Shu-ha," I cried, "I want to be like my pa. I would be a warrior!"
Master Shu-ha held up his forefinger as he always did when making a point. "There are many ways to win glory, Memna-un."
"But I want to fight for the protection of my people, just as my pa did," I said desperately. "I have tried to forget it. I have tried to follow my mut's wishes to come to the House of Life and learn the ways of a scribe. But my pa was a warrior! It burns within me! It haunts me night and day!"
"It is true that your pa won fame in his day. Emerging from the fabled land of the Atl-anta, he defended Maat with sword in hand and earned glory in many lands. But then he lost his life at Troy. Your mut would not see you go that way."
I gazed back towards the sand and held up my hands to Aten. Its rays dazzled my eyes as the orange orb sank toward the horizon.
"My mut, my mut, my mut, my mut" I cried. "I have followed the will of Meri-Ta all my days! Never has she asked me of my wishes! Never has she let me choose my own way!"
Master Shu-ha placed his hand on my shoulder.
"She has considered you at every step, Memna-un. She could see the fire of your pa burning strongly in you. This is why she wanted you far away from the fields of battle. She is your mut. You and Neftiji are the parts of Memna-un the Elder that she has left upon the earth."
His words penetrated and I understood. But my desire would not go away. "Your words are true Master," I replied. "I will think long on them."
I then started down the steps to make my way home.
"Hold, Memna-un," Master Shu-ha said. "One other thing."
I stopped at the foot of the stairs, gazing back up at my teacher.
"There have been reports of strange vessels along the merchant routes. Tell your mut to be wary. If you see anything amiss, go at once to the fort of the Medjay and report it."
"But master," I said, "there have been no pirates on the Desher Sea for many ages. Who would dare...?"
"It may be mere rumor, Memna-un. But your mut is Port-Mistress and so must be made aware. Go now and inform her."
As I strolled down the hill that supported the House of Life, I could see the entire nome, all the way to my mut's house in the far distance, on the banks of the Desher Sea. As the rays of Aten grew dimmer, activity in the streets became lighter. The market was closing down, as sailing men headed toward the saloon for a draught, and market women packed up their wares for the day.
I decided to go down the market street, in hopes of finding a flask of honey for Meri-Ta before they all closed down. Perhaps it would sweeten the sour taste that was sure to come when I told her of my plans.
The market woman took the barter note I gave her and handed me the flask of honey. She scrutinized the note closely as I walked away.
"It is a true note, mut," I said. "You can redeem it at my family's granaries anytime. Good evening to you."
She smiled, then slid the note into her pouch. "Just checking, my son, just checking."
I walked away, hefting the flask and wondering if she was as careful with her own product. As I considered opening the stopper to look inside, I spied a Tamahu youth near my age, walking with two large hunting cats on leashes. As I came closer, I saw he had a laborer's sack hanging at his side. Then I saw that it was my classmate, Amistan. Pretending not to see him, I went into a false examination of the flask of honey.
"Ho, Memna-un!" Amistan said.
"Greetings, Amistan," I replied.
"Going home?"
"Yes. I have honey for my mut"
"Must you hurry? I've something to show you...."
The two cats he had leashed were of the southern breed, from the lands above Upper Kush. Large-boned and strong, they were of the type normally used for catching birds in the marshes near Hapi. One cat was ebony black, the other ivory white.
"I go to make profit with my friends here," Amistan said, gesturing toward the cats. "Care to come along?"
"Amistan..." I said reluctantly, "about what I said in the Hall of Learning today...."
"Never mind that," he said cheerfully. "Come along."
We turned down a street and started towards the wealthier side of town, where the boat owners and traders lived. The cats seemed eager, as if anticipating some pleasant activity. Soon we stopped before a beautiful house with a noticeably huge garden.
Amistan held the leashes towards me. "Here! Hold these."
I seized the leashes as Amistan walked to the front door. Though I could not hear clearly, I could tell he was making some kind of deal with the woman who answered, probably a financial one. Finally, she made a gesture of resignation and Amistan walked back triumphantly.
"She has agreed to my price," he said.
"Price...for what?"
"Watch, Memna-un."
We walked towards the garden and the cats became frantic, straining against
the leashes and hissing impatiently. Then Amistan opened the gates to the garden and let them loose. They bounded excitedly towards the thick plants and began their frantic hunt for prey.
I nodded at Amistan and smiled. "You Bekhtani," I said, laughing. "Always ready to make profit!"
"I can't help it," he replied with a grin. "My parents are traders."
The cats hissed and leaped for a few moments, and then the white one returned holding a large green snake. Springing over to me, the cat dropped it right at my feet. I was startled a little because it was still alive, but Amistan got to it first and stamped it to death.
The cats continued stalking and hunting until the black feline dropped another snake before us. I raised my foot, preparing to stamp it to death, when Amistan thrust his palm towards me.
"Hold, my friend," he said, "no need for that...."
I looked down and saw that my classmate was right. The snake was already dead.
The hunt continued as the orb of Aten settled beneath the horizon. I was wondering how we would see in the dark when Amistan pulled a pitch torch out of his bag. As I held it, he took two fire stones from his pouch and struck them together near the head of the torch, quickly sending enough sparks flying to set the torch ablaze.
The fall of night seemed not to bother the cats. As their pile of snakes grew larger and larger, Amistan beamed proudly as he spoke of them. "Ah, Memna-un," he said, "these cats are the best profit-making investment I have ever made. They kill the pests and I make the riches."
"I see they are well trained," I replied. "But why do they not kill all the snakes they bring out?"
"Ah, Memna-un," Amistan replied. "The dark one, he kills every one, while it is the white one that does not kill its prey."
"But why?" I asked.
"Only the Neters know. The white one delights in the hunt. The black one delights in the kill. They are of the same litter, and with their parents it is just the opposite. Their mut, who is milk white, lives for the kill, while their pa, a black cat, loves the hunt only."
Amistan then looked into my eyes. "I suppose you cannot say how a creature will act based on where it comes from or how it looks. I suppose you have to judge a creature by its own actions. Don't you think so, Memna-un?"
I looked into the light-skinned face of my classmate, noticing how the torch-light was shining upon his straight black hair and only nodded in agreement.
"Indeed, Amistan," I replied. "Your wisdom is sound."
The pile of snakes grew larger and the hunt went on until Amistan called the cats back. As I held the leashes again, he counted the snakes and went back to the house. After another brief discussion with the mistress, he returned with a handful of shekels and a big grin. Nodding gratefully, he handed me three of them.
"For your help, Memna-un," he said.
I thanked him and we embraced. As we parted ways I silently thanked Amistan for the lesson he had taught me. Passing the edge of town, I left the dim torchlights from the houses behind and picked my way over the well-worn trail in total darkness. I had no fear, having walked these trails all my life. My only worry was how my mut would react when I told her of my plans to be a warrior instead of a scribe in the service of the Shekem.
As I passed the Medjay outpost, a small fort to the north and west of my home, the moon was rising high. Moments later I strolled along the Desher Sea, casually noting the glowing orb's light bouncing off the waves. Little did I know that this would be the last carefree moment of my life.
In the distance the night torches that illuminated my home revealed a large ship docked nearby. As I came closer I heard loud voices, then shouts and the sound of metal striking metal. A battle!
I ran a few paces and stopped. "The Medjay!" I thought. "I must tell the Medjay something is wrong!" My Mut and sister had a dozen warriors to protect them, which should, I reasoned, give me the time to alert the warriors at the fort. I turned to run back, when a frightful scream pierced the air. It was my mut!
Dropping the honey and shekels, I ran frantically towards the house. Several small landing boats, obviously from the large ship, were pulled onto the shore. Dead men were laying everywhere. Rounding the corner to the entrance of the house, I saw a terrible battle taking place.
My mut's men were fighting a crowd of strange, pale-skinned warriors I had never seen before, speaking a language that was equally unfamiliar. I saw Teta, the leader of the Port House guard, fighting valiantly against four men, while several of his guards went down before the large mass of foreign warriors.
With strange round shields and long swords of a make I had never seen, the attackers were vicious and gave no quarter. No one had yet noticed me as I stood before the house, looking desperately for my mut and sister, trying to decide what to do. Then I spotted Meri-Ta, my mut, surrounded by four of her faithful warriors. They were hopelessly struggling to protect her against the imposing wave of attackers.
My mind was then made up. Springing forward, I seized the sword-arm of one of the attackers, striking him in the belly until he let go of his weapon. As several of the warriors turned towards me, Teta noticed and yelled out.
"Memna-un, flee! Go! Save yourself! "
As he said this he turned his head slightly, something he taught me never to do in battle. One of the attackers took advantage of this and viciously ran a sword through his belly.
I screamed as I watched my good friend die.
"Teta! Teta, nooo! "
Now my mut was also holding a sword. Only two of her men were left, determined to fight until the end, but several of the strange warriors were closing in on them, which sent me mad with rage.
"Leave my mut," I shouted. "Leave her!" I screamed, while grasping the sword the way Teta had taught me.
There had been many mornings Teta and I would sneak away and he would secretly teach me the arts of war. I used those skills now and waded in among the surprised warriors. As Teta had often instructed, I took advantage of my height, swinging down upon them at angles they found hard to block. Two went down at the advance of my blade before they realized that death walked among them. As fast as I could, I split two more heads and sliced the necks of three more.
Spattered with blood, my only thought was to kill everything hat lived between myself and my mut. By now she had noticed me and at first looked quite surprised. Then she began gesturing frantically toward the house.
"Mut!" I shouted. "I am coming!"
Finally the warriors recovered and had me on the defense. Blocking me from my mut, they pushed me back and away from her. I could see that her guards were fighting valiantly but would soon be overwhelmed. Now cut and bleeding, she assisted them as she called out to me.
"Neftiji," she shouted, pointing towards the door of the house. "Your sister!"
"But Mut!" I cried.
"Worry not for me!" she screamed, "Go! Save your sister...now! "
I hesitated briefly, then another scream came from the house. It was Neftiji! Whatever was going on, my mut seemed more concerned for my sister's safety than her own, and though it pained me greatly, I obeyed her.
The battle was blocking the entrance to the door, so I rush to a window, but to turn and jump as they pressed me would mean certain death. After several wild swings toward the warriors to ward them off, I hefted a large flower pot from the window ledge and threw it. I then let fly other small pots from the ledge, then as they ducked, turned and leapt through the window.
Falling heavily, I ignored the pain and sprang up quickly. Outside I could hear the warriors cursing, but none were tall enough to jump as I did. I pushed furniture down before the door to slow them and ran further into the house.
"Neftiji!" I called as I ran through our many rooms. "Where are you?"
Then I heard her.
"Memna!" she screamed desperately, "Memna, help!"
I ran to her room to find it crowded with the savage warriors. They had her pinned down on her bed, groping and tearing at her clothes. Tears stream
ed down her face as she struggled against them.
I bared my teeth, saying nothing as I stepped before the doorway. One of the warriors spied me, and with sword in hand, rushed my way. As he emerged from the room, I sliced his neck and booted him to the side as others sprang to attack me. But they could only emerge one at a time, and I was ready. Sidestepping as they ran past, I cut them down one after the other.
After several had fallen, the others were more wary and stood back, poking at me with their swords. As their attention turned towards me, I glanced over their shoulders to see Neftiji gather herself up and slip silently through a window.
Breathing a sigh of relief, I ran back toward the front door to assist my mut, the remaining warriors close upon my heels. There I was met by the fiends I had escaped earlier, and now found myself trapped.
Gripping my weapon tightly, I decided to take as many of them with me as possible. Then the crowd of warriors before me parted and my eyes beheld a terrible sight. One of the vicious men dragged a limp body by the hair and tossed it down before me. It landed at my feet, blood spattering across the floor. It was my mut.
At first I was speechless, frozen in horror. Then I spotted the smiling, gleeful faces of the cruel warriors before me and flew into a terrible rage. Slashing right through the wicked smile of the nearest one, I began attacking those around me with all the hatred and force I could muster. The ferocity of my attack threw them back and I maneuvered into a corner, preparing to take them all with me into the next life.
I fought for long minutes, until fatigue and the overwhelming numbers finally overcame me. Cut, stabbed and bleeding from many wounds, I slipped on my own blood and went down.
The sword was wrenched from my hand and I was dragged over the body of my own mut and out the door. There before the entrance I was held upright, as rough hands tore my tattered robe from my chest. A warrior I had wounded stood before me. Holding a sharp knife in the flames of a torch, he eyed me hatefully. A few vicious kicks to my back and blood was spurted from my mouth. Then these villains began speaking to each other. Though I could not understand, I knew they were making plans for all the dreadful things they would do to me.
Suddenly the warrior with the heated knife threw away the torch and approached me, a cruel smile playing across his vicious face. I readied myself for death, but as he raised the knife a voice rang out behind him. It was in his own strange language but had an unmistakable Kamitic accent. He hesitated, then proceeded towards me again as the voice called once more.
The would-be murderer looked over his shoulder, speaking sharply to whoever had addressed him. Several of the others raised their voices in what seemed to be warnings, but he ignored them, raising the blade to stab me once again. Just as the weapon was about to fall, his body convulsed violently and he screamed in bitter anguish. Clutching at his chest, he dropped heavily to his knees, the knife tumbling from his grasp as he fell. Between his clutching fingers the flesh of his chest moved violently, bulging and palpitating unnaturally.
Then from out of the shadows emerged a Kushite man, his head clean shaven in the fashion of a Kamitic priest. His hands held high, he recited words of power, making gestures in the air as the man writhed and moaned. Finally, the magician stood over his victim, made a cutting motion in the air, and the man's chest burst open like a ripe fruit.
Muttering incoherently, the warrior watched as his own heart rose from his body, to be plucked from the air by the Kushite magician. Then the warrior's eyes rolled back and he fell, dead in his own flowing blood.
The strange Kushite put the heart into a sack at his side, casually shaking the blood from his hand. Then he spoke to me with a voice that chilled my heart.
"You fight like a panther, young one," he said.
I stared at him. He was indeed a western Kushite, like most Kamitians, and was even wearing the white robe of a Kamitic High Priest, but apparently he was also the leader of these strange pale warriors. I thought of the lesson I learned from Amistan.
"A shame about your mut, young one," he said, gesturing towards the warriors surrounding us. "These are...barbarians. At times they can be quite difficult."
Then he smiled. Cold fear such as I had never felt ran through me as I saw him smile. I wondered what he would do with the dead man's heart.
"What is your name, young panther?"
I could hardly open my mouth from the fear, and I knew that he had to see it in my eyes.
"I am Kho-An-Sa," he said. "Speak your name, young panther, and I may yet let you live."
"My...my name is Memna-un. Son of Meri-Ta and Memna-un..."
Kho-An-Sa put his hand to his chin.
"Memna-un...Memna-un? Son of Memna-un the warrior, the Great Memnon who fought at Troy?"
I looked at him, but my mouth would not open. Then he raised his hand as if to strike me. "Answer me!" he shouted.
"Yes!" I cried. "Yes, he was my pa."
Kho-An-Sa's eyes narrowed as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I see now why you fight so well. Many of my allies would rejoice to see the seed of the great Memnon of Troy destroyed. But I...I have other plans."
Kho-An-Sa extended his hand, cruelly clutching my face. His fingers were bloody and hot.
"Young panther, do you wish to live?"
Struggling against the fear this priest made well up inside me, I spoke defiantly.
"I...I care not," I groaned. "I have defended my family."
"That you have done, young panther," Kho-An-Sa said. "And you have done it very well. But now you will be my defender! My warrior! "
"Never," I groaned. "You killed my Mut. Never would I serve you...you...."
He stepped back and clapped his hands and two warriors stepped forward. They were holding Neftiji.
"Memna-un," Neftiji cried. "Do not do it!"
Kho-An-Sa walked towards her. Raising his hands, he began speaking the words he used when he took the warrior's heart. Neftiji screamed.
"No!" I cried. "Leave her alone!"
Kho-An-Sa stopped the chant and turned back towards me.
"What is it you say, young panther?" Tears streamed down my face. I would have fallen if the warriors had not been holding me.
"Yes, Kho-An-Sa," I said.
"Yes...what...young panther?"
"Yes...I will serve you. Don't hurt my sister...."
Kho-An-Sa lifted my face again and smiled his cruel, wicked smile. "I knew you would see the wisdom in this decision. Do as I say and your sister will not be harmed."
He then barked orders at his men in their rough, crude language. Some hustled forward from the house with bags of shekels- dock fees earned by my mut. Kho-An-Sa counted the bags and sent the bearers towards the boats. Then he turned to Neftiji and I.
"Look well, young panther," he said, gesturing towards the house. "You will never see this place again. From this day forward, you are mine!"
As Neftiji and I were dragged towards the boats, I could not look at my sister. Overwhelmed by grief and weakened from my injuries, I felt that I had failed my family. Then my eyelids grew heavy and my mind slipped down into darkness.