6 September 33 BC
Saar leaned forward, meeting the proffered kiss with a soft moan that rumbled through his chest like the purr of a giant cat. From above, her hair forming a dark curtain around their naked bodies, Kiya smiled at him.
He touched her cheek. ‘You’re so beautiful. Your eyes, your skin, your delicious mouth.’ He nipped her lips, lapping away the drop of blood that followed.
She writhed against him, kissing her way down his face and chest. Her lips hovered over his hip before brushing down his thigh, stopping at the birthmark beneath his rear. She kissed it.
He twitched. ‘Don’t.’
‘But I love this mark, like the deadly claw of a bear. Or the tooth of some giant snake. It’s beautiful and tastes so good. Just like the rest of you. From the sweetest nectar of your lips to the juicy meat of your—’ Kiya jerked upright, looking over her shoulder as footsteps approached their chamber.
Though he tried to catch her, she slipped through his grip like a fish and darted off the end of the bed to hide in the shadows at the back of the room. Grinning, he followed her. ‘It’s safe, dear love.’
‘No one must know of us,’ she hissed. ‘The queen does not allow it.’
‘Mosi will tell no one. Will you?’
He looked across the vast chamber, skipping over the beautiful dressings and gifts to view the wide arch at the far end. The silky coloured drapes which cloaked the entrance twitched aside, exposing the newcomer. Saar laughed at the bemused expression on the other man’s face.
‘You’re naked.’ Still dressed for scouting, Mosi wore his sword on one hip and held his spear beneath his arm. Sand crusted his feet and legs as far as his knees. ‘I thought you needed me. I felt you call.’ He tapped the side of his head with one finger.
As he did so, Saar felt Mosi in his mind, a warm presence that coiled around his senses and held tight in a loving, spiritual hug. He reached out to touch that presence, a flex of will that manifested physically as a slight smile.
‘I did. The time has come for you to meet somebody else dear to me.’
Mosi looked at the ground. ‘You’re naked.’
Saar glanced down then back up again. He grinned, stepped forward and let the light from the strategically placed mirrors fall upon his body. ‘This isn’t the first time you’ve seen my body, Mosi. Don’t be embarrassed. I’m not.’
‘And what of me?’ Kiya’s voice rang with impatience.
‘Take the linen from the bed if you wish.’
‘If you will be naked before this man, I need not hide.’ She employed the air of a petulant child, but Saar chose not to comment. Instead he extended his hand. ‘Come then, dear love. Meet the second love in my life.’
‘Second?’ Her voice became sharp. Clipped. As she stepped out from behind the drapes, her eyes narrowed. ‘At last.’ Up, then down, she took in Mosi’s attire and his face before turning back to Saar. ‘So this is the one?’ She set her hands on her hips and assessed him once more. ‘I suppose I can understand his appeal. But he’s skinny and weak compared to you.’
Saar grinned. ‘Many men are. Don’t be jealous, you both have my love, but in different ways.’
She snorted. ‘I offer you the warm embrace of a woman’s most delicate flower. What does he give you?’
‘Love. Devotion. Unquestioning obedience.’
Another snort. ‘Really? And is my offering of these things not enough?’
‘You question everything I do.’
She glared.
‘Of course it’s enough.’ Saar’s grin wilted. ‘Will you not try to understand? He’s dear to me but no more or less than you.’
‘Men who act as you do are considered dirty. They aren’t real men in the eyes of others or those of the gods. Did Set not sully Horace in such a way?’
Saar flinched. ‘Is that really what you think of me?’
Her answer loitered on her tongue. ‘No. Love takes many forms. But I needn’t like it. I’ve no desire to share you. With anyone.’
‘Mosi is the first. You and he are my god-touched children.’
‘Yes, him. A soldier. Before me.’
‘It is because of him that I learned of the ability to share my gift. If not for Mosi, you wouldn’t have the power you so enjoy.’ Eyeing his naked lover, Saar sighed. ‘I want you both to hear my plan. Success depends on the three of us working together.’
‘Both of us?’ Kiya looked again at Mosi. She folded her hands beneath her breasts, pushing them up and out. A fine flaunting of her womanly assets. ‘Even him?’
‘Even him.’
A long silence filled the chamber.
Saar heard the rumble of chariots outside, soldiers drilling in the large yard to the side of the palace. The occasional clash of weapons rode the light breeze which carried scents of sweat and warm metal.
He closed his eyes. Took a deep breath. When he opened them again he turned away from Kiya and extended a hand to Mosi.
The other man didn’t move.
‘Please, Mosi. Come to me.’
Still studying the floor, Mosi flicked a hand over his shoulder. The gesture lingered from the days of his long hair and his fingers caught nothing but air. He shrugged and fussed with the short strands at the back of his neck. ‘I can hear these plans another time. I have no desire to cause Kiya discomfort.’
‘She’ll grow accustomed to you. Perhaps even love you as I do.’
As he spoke the words, Saar felt the heat of Kiya’s gaze against his back. He chose to ignore it. Instead he reached out and grabbed Mosi’s arm, pulling him close.
Still he resisted, dragging his feet across the stone floor. ‘Please . . .’
‘Be silent, Mosi. Look at me.’
At last the younger man looked up and Saar smiled. He stared at those beautiful eyes, the long, thick lashes, and full kissable lips. ‘Do as I ask. Remove your weapons. Sit with us.’ To add weight to the request he took the spear and laid it on the ground.
Cat-like, Kiya prowled around them, her crossed arms and jerking head a clear indication of her feelings. She took up one of the chairs near the wall and watched.
‘Look at me,’ Saar repeated, conscious of the tension returning to Mosi’s back and shoulders. ‘Look only at me.’
He took the sword and put it beside the spear, then unfastened the knot holding the first section of toughened leather straps in place across Mosi’s chest. The second section protected his stomach and Saar pulled that away too, holding his gaze the whole time.
He heard Mosi’s breathing quicken and resisted the urge to smile.
‘Saar . . . ?’
‘Let us all be on an even footing. Besides, I like to look at you.’
At last he removed the linen shendyt from Mosi’s waist and bent down to unfasten the flat straw sandals.
Saar took a moment to enjoy the view before kissing him once on the lips.
‘Now, sit.’
Obeying his own order, Saar snagged a chair and turned it to face Kiya.
Mosi copied him.
‘Now that we are on an even footing, what do you want to discuss?’ The appearance of fangs in Kiya’s mouth matched the bite in her voice, but she kept enough of a hold on her temper to keep her eyes a warm, steady brown.
‘Antony.’
Whatever Mosi might have expected it wasn’t that. He stared, lips slightly parted, one hand twitching on the arm of the chair. By contrast, Kiya gritted her teeth and leaned forward in her seat.
‘This has been too long in coming,’ she said. ‘What will you do to him?’
‘I’m undecided. But it pleases me to know that I’m not the only person who senses his inability to lead.’
‘He spends more time in the queen’s bed than he does with you or your soldiers. I would know. Believe me, dear love, he is a fool. He has not half the wit or intelligence that you do.’
Saar grinned as a fierce rush of pleasure warmed his insides. ‘You flatter me.’
‘I speak truth.’
> ‘King Antony is a cautious man, true, but he isn’t foolish. What quarrel do you have with him?’ Mosi spoke softly from his corner of the lopsided triangle made by their chairs.
‘Antony is selfish, arrogant and short-sighted.’ Saar spoke quickly, glancing at Mosi with a frown. ‘You know this. His selfishness leads us to outright war with Rome and will ultimately put our great country in their hands. He must be stopped.’
‘And how do you plan to do that?’
‘An army.’
Both Mosi and Kiya looked confused.
‘You and I are already part of the army.’ Mosi glanced at his discarded weapons. ‘You are the queen’s personal protector. How will an army help us?’
‘Not an army. Our army.’ Saar leaned forward. The warm, slightly rough surface of the wood scratched his thigh, but it was a minor irritant. His hands shook and he clasped them together to help control the excitement building in his gut. ‘We have a gift. A wonderful, powerful gift, passed to us by mighty Set himself. Our blood holds power. You’ve seen it.’
An eager nod from Kiya. ‘I can last for days without sleep. Food holds no lure for me but my body has never been stronger. I’m faster. I hear the whispers of the slaves in other rooms throughout the palace and when I follow the queen, I can see the smiles on the faces of the people for hundreds of yards in every direction. I hear their thoughts in my head and change them to suit my whims.’
‘And you, Mosi?’
He scratched the back of his neck again. ‘Yes, in the years since you first touched me I’ve felt stronger and faster, too. None but you can best me with a sword or bow, though many have tried. Small objects move when and where I will them and my body finds sustenance in the physical touch of another. This is power unparalleled.’
Saar nodded. ‘We’re the finest examples of what a man or woman can be. If our army were filled with others like us, we would be unstoppable. Never again need we fear invasion.’
Kiya’s voice trembled. Her eyes grew round and shiny. ‘Is that possible? How many times can you share this gift? It comes from blood, would it not weaken you? And what of Set?’
‘I don’t know. Set values strength, so I would choose carefully. But what god would reject additional tribute? And think on it. How strong would Egypt become if every soldier were as we are? Perhaps we could grow beyond our current borders and reclaim lost lands.’
‘Yes.’ Kiya bounced on her chair. ‘We’ll recruit hundreds to your cause and make our homeland great again. We’ll name them The Red Fang of Alexandria.’
Saar cocked an eyebrow.
She cast a playful glance at his bare thigh. ‘The mark which coaxed your mother to enlist you in the army. The mark which so resembles the fang of a snake. Name your army after it.’
‘Is that necessary?’
‘Yes. All great men have memorable titles. Saar . . . leader of the Red Fang Army. It’s perfect.’
Though he smiled, Saar couldn’t help but notice the silence from one corner of the triangle. He glanced at Mosi’s pensive frown, tapping foot and lowered gaze.
Carefully he reached down the invisible line that joined their minds together, groping for answers at the other end.
Sensing him, Mosi looked up and, with a grunt, shut off the connection. ‘Don’t,’ he whispered. ‘Let me think this through. I must be clear in my own mind.’
‘Why?’ Kiya sneered. ‘Do you not trust our love to do what’s right? He has an excellent plan that will ensure our survival now and for years to come. What more is there to think about? Why else would Set give him this gift if not to protect us?’
‘But it wasn’t a gift.’ Mosi’s voice hardened. His right hand made a fist while the left groped over his shoulder for hair he’d cut long ago. ‘It was a foul trick, which Saar has since come to use for good.’
‘How can power and strength be a trick? You’re weak, Mosi. Seeking trouble where there is none, to avoid doing what must be done.’
Saar stood.
The abrupt motion cut short Mosi’s response and caused Kiya to snap her mouth closed.
He waited, staring at each of them in turn until he felt their unease prickle down the links between them.
‘This is a delicate plan,’ he said at last. ‘We can’t rush. I’ve had months to consider this but you haven’t.’ He glanced at Mosi. ‘I expect and welcome your questions.’ Sensing Kiya’s urge to speak, he raised a hand to silence her. ‘Dear love, you trust me in all things and I’m grateful for that. But you’re not a soldier. Yes, I need you in executing this plan, but I must hear what Mosi has to say on the matter. His thoughts are valid.’
She slumped in her seat, crossed her arms and said nothing.
‘Well?’
Mosi sighed. ‘It’s a bold plan. Much can go wrong. What if the . . . gift . . . can’t be shared any further, or the results differ? What if it weakens you? And what of Antony?’
‘What of him?’
‘Will you share the power with him and the queen? Surely Cleopatra should be first in line to receive such power. It would make her a formidable force if she could bend the will of men the way you do when she visits Rome.’
Saar snorted. ‘She has power enough in that regard.’
‘Maybe, but physical strength would protect her. And her children. Octavian has the support of the Senate and I fear you’re right, war is coming.’
Leaving the cluster of chairs, Saar walked to the window and looked out over Brucheum.
In the warm golden glow of afternoon sunlight, he saw the bustle of people in the street far below. In this, the Greek portion of the city, men and women wore expensive clothes, shoes and jewellery in bright colours. The road, patterned with small white and blue tiles, led to the pavilion where three dancers pranced on a high pedestal to the cheers of those watching. Small children ran through the crowds, and their laughter reached even this high window in the palace.
The soft pad of footsteps made him glance over his shoulder.
He saw Mosi approach and stepped sideways to make space.
‘I love them too, Saar. This is my home. And you— before you, I had no hope or life beyond that in Gyasi’s whorehouse. You saved me from that and I love you for it.’
Saar smiled.
‘I would follow you anywhere. Into any danger.’
‘I know.’ He shuddered, aware in that moment that the link between him and his lover had been reopened. Through it he felt the warmth of pride, respect and deep-seated need. He chuckled. ‘Do you have somewhere else to be?’
‘No.’
‘Good.’ He turned then, and gripped Mosi’s face between his hands. The other man was smaller, almost feminine, but the hands that closed over his were strong. They shared a chaste kiss.
Then Saar felt slim, delicate hands brush across his back and knew Kiya had joined them.
‘I don’t have to like it,’ she whispered, ‘but that doesn’t mean I won’t join you.’ With that, her soft lips picked a path down the middle of his back, following his spine to the tops of his buttocks. Again she lingered over the curved birthmark on his left thigh. She kissed it.
He groaned and heard Mosi echo the sound.
‘We’ll discuss the rest of my plans later,’ he whispered, leaning forward for another, far less innocent kiss.
Neither Kiya nor Mosi raised any objections.
Chapter Fourteen