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Victorious

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Bathed in the blood of hundreds of men, the stained sands glowed eerily in the faint light of the sickle moon. It was like a graveyard; hacked and gouged and severed bodies were strewn across the land in thick, grizzly piles. The raptors had come hours earlier to watch the battle, and were now feasting upon the succulent flesh of humanity. Their squawks and the occasional tortured moans of the unfortunates yet living were the only sounds that pierced the silence that had fallen over the field.

In the distance, far enough away to avoid the stench of death, a group of men a score thick took shelter against the walls of desert stone. Lit by cheerful fires, they celebrated their success. The Hyksos raiding party had swept over the barbarian village like a locus plague; leaving none of the men alive, and spiriting away the spoils of war. Victorious, they indulged themselves on the best of life: food, beer, warmth, laughter, and, best of all, women.

Hardened by life in the Egyptian desert, these women were as courageous as their men. They also understood that, as death follows life, their new life would be considerably easier if they submitted to it with grace. As such, in the shadows cast by the fire, the grunts and groans of the triumphant were mingled with the delicate sighs and moans of their willing plunder.

Only one was left to herself. Proud and haughty, Nané was the Oracle Priestess for the goddess Bast. She sat alone, her hands and ankles bound, but her eyes glittered with a sharp cleverness that would have alarmed her captors had they noticed it. As the night wore on, she watched the men who had murdered her family fall one by one into a drunken unconsciousness. When all was silent but for the ruckus of their snores, she moved for the first time in hours.

With a quick twist of her hands, she slipped off the ropes that she had been discreetly loosening during the gluttony. She set at once on the knots at her ankles, and, once freed, Nané shifted into the shadows like a phantom in the night. Skirting the edge of the battlefield where the carrions would have been alarmed at her presence, she headed East, where she would find the Nile and her freedom by dawn’s glimmer.

Her mind raced as quickly as her legs. She must raise the alarm; warn her uncle of the invaders who would soon be sweeping once more over the lands. Those she had escaped from were a scouting party; sent in to discover the might of the Great Egypt, Pharaoh Apophis. The King’s seat was now in Thebes, too far of a journey for a lone woman to make. Nevertheless, Abydos was but a few hours journey overland, and from there, the warning would race up the river like the killing lunge of a crocodile; swift and fierce.

In a dark cleft of the hardened slabs of golden sand, a monster of a man stepped out. Before she could check herself, Nané slammed into his unyielding mass. He muffled her scream behind a massive hand that nearly covered her entire face.

“If you want the men who killed your family to come and rescue you, then by all means, scream away.” The man’s voice was deep and rasping, and fear speared into her heart when she heard the accent of the invaders in it. She wiggled violently, trying to escape his iron grasp, and managed to loosen his hold when she bit down hard on his calloused palm. But before she could get two steps away, he recaptured her with his uninjured hand.

“Damn little vixen,” he muttered while sucking on his throbbing palm, “that hurt.”

Nané struggles became more ferocious, but her demand was whispered; “Then let me go!”

“No, I don’t think so.” He twisted her around so that her backside was plastered against his front, and banded one arm around her waist and the other across her arms. Feeling her womanly curves, inhaling her flowery scent, he felt his head spin and groaned deep in his throat, “Mmm, I think I like you right where you are.”

Her blood ran cold when she felt the spear of his need harden against her bottom, “Hyksos filth!” She would have spat in his face were she not imprisoned. “I am the niece of Ta-nuturi and a priestess of Bast. Touching me is forbidden! The King will have your barbarian corpse hanging by your feet over the palace wall.”

“I very much doubt that, my lady.” His hands were roving as much as Nané would allow with her continued fighting, and her serpentine movements were an enticement rather than a deterrent. Mdjai had never liked a passive lover.

Realizing that her strength was insignificant compared to his, she decided a more submissive demeanor might give her the upper hand. She stopped struggling, and slumped in feigned defeat güvenilir canlı bahis siteleri against him. Her head dropped, letting the length of her hair cover her face before she pretended tears.

“Please,” she begged, her voice hitching between her sobs, “I promise not to tell anyone if you let me go.”

Mdjai snorted with laughter and replied sarcastically, “You must take me for a fool, if you think I’d fall for such pathetic acting skills.”

Fury suddenly overtook her fear, and a red haze blurred her vision. With lightning quick speed, she swung her head back. A satisfying crack resounded in the empty desert as she broke his nose, but her head swum with dizziness from the force of her hit.

Her captor released her, raising his hands to his face as a stream of curses spilled from his mouth. Nané stumbled as she ran, trying to put as much distance between herself and the barbarian before he recovered from her attack. The back of her head throbbed painfully with each jarring step, but she forced herself on, blindly putting one foot before the other.

Blood poured from his nose and tears from his eyes. Pain bloomed from his shattered nose, through his entire body. Each breath was agony, each movement turned agony into torture. Despite all that, he went after Nané, driving on revenge alone. When he caught her, she would learn that her place was beneath him as he speared into her belly.

He had only taken two lurching steps in chase when he heard her squeal. Focusing in the dark, he saw another man had her pinned in his arms. Disgruntled that he would have to share her now, he picked his way to the pair, careful not to jar his injured face.

“Kahotep?” He groaned. Even speaking hurt. He would repay the little whore for what she did.

“What’s going on here Mdjai?”

“She escaped. I’ve claimed her for my own when I caught her.”

Nané’s voice was haughty as she pronounced, “No man can claim a daughter of Bast. If you touch me, she will shrivel your manhood,” she leaned forward to sneer into Mdjai’s face, “not that there was ever much of a manhood there to begin with.”

She didn’t hesitate to spat at him as soon as he got close enough. The sharp sound of the flat of Mdjai’s hand striking her across the cheek was swallowed up by the night. “Little bitch!”

Nané began chanting in a language long dead, known to only those who lived in the Temple. It was a prayer to her goddess, but the ignorant fools before her would never know that. Mdjai laughed rudely, but his eyes darted around anxiously. He reeled back his arm, preparing to strike her again, but Kahotep yanked her from Mdjai’s reach.

“Leave her alone.” Kahotep’s voice was indifferent, but his eyes glittered like steel.

“But…”

Kahotep cut over him, his voice soft, yet hard as the iron blade sheathed at his waist. “She is no longer yours, Mdjai.”

“You cannot do that; I have already claimed her as my own.” Mdjai was attempting to sound as arrogant as his claim, but his posture revealed discomfort, and his face, fear. Kahotep was apparently either a very important man or, Nané reflected uncomfortably, a very dangerous man.

The hand that imprisoned her tightened painfully on her arm as she was shifted to the side. “Are you challenging my authority?”

Though Mdjai was by far the larger man in both height and bulk, he quickly looked away from Kahotep’s hard gaze, then took a step back and hunched his shoulders in a submissive gesture of defeat. “Of course not, sir.”

“Good.” He turned his back on Mdjai, and Nané saw the large man stiffen at the insult. Nevertheless, he turned and walked away; anger making his step as heavy as a herd of cattle. When the crashing footsteps faded with the silhouette of the angry man into the inky night, Kahotep finally turned his attention to her, and with a start of surprise, she saw his eyes glitter with amusement.

“A priestess? Couldn’t you come up with something more original?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“As well you should. I do not usually interfere with the claims my men make of the spoils of war.”

Nané’s back straightened from wounded pride. “I am hemet-netjer: a priestess of Bast. She has set her mark upon me and none may claim me without fear of retribution.” She looked at him through narrowed eyes that gleamed with self-righteous anger, “You and your kind shall be devoured by the Pharaoh’s Protector in the flames of her wrath.”

“I suppose, then, you shall be vindicated if your goddess decides to grace us with her presence. Until then, if you do not mind, I would prefer to find some shelter before güvenilir illegal bahis siteleri nightfall.” He smiled again; a smile, Nané was shocked to find, which softened the austere lines of his face so that we was almost handsome. “I do not suppose you have any suggestions of where we camp?”

“Why, by the grace of Kemet, would I possibly want to help you in any way?”

“Regardless of what you think, you are mine. Where I go, you shall accompany me. Thus, the more comfortable I am, the more comfortable you are.”

Nané considered Kahotep’s words, remembering his cold demeanor that could ice over the Nile, the danger she sensed was cloaked like an aurora around him, and decided that humoring him would be most prudent for now. It was obvious that the Hyksos were going to attempt to overthrow the Pharaoh, and without any warning, they could very well succeed. Nané needed to escape, but she saw no possibility of this until night. The landscape of the grasslands were bare but for a few shrubs and some stunted trees. There was no place for her to hide; the soldiers were bound to see her unless she had the cover of a night barely lit by a sliver of a moon to aid in her escape.

She sighed; a dramatically weary sound that she hoped would fool her captor into believing she was surrendering to his will. Pointing to the East, she told Kahotep about a nearby tributary that only flows during the wet season from an underground water source. “It is the only nearby source of water, and it is fairly well sheltered by a small copse of trees.”

“You are not trying to lead me falsely?”

Her tone was bored, but her heart raced as she replied, “As you said, if you are comfortable then I shall be in relative comfort considering the circumstances. I do not see any reason to make things more difficult for myself than they already are.”

Kahotep stared her down in the same manner he used on Mdjai, and Nané now understood why the larger man backed down so quickly. His eyes glittered as dark as a bottomless pool, and were just as menacing. The strong lines of his face tightened so that it seemed as if the slightest touch would cut. He was as powerful as Ra and just as frighteningly beautiful, even in the height of his anger.

And he was angry. Though he couldn’t disprove her, Kahotep was certain that Nané was lying. Yet, he took up his pack that was hidden in the brush, gestured for her to lead the way, and followed her to the stream.

Nané was not comfortable. Kahotep’s idea of camp was plain and without a single comfort beyond a blanket and a fire. They had water, but the only food he gave to her was a hard piece of dried meat that was near rancid. Nané ate it anyway, knowing that she needed whatever nourishment it could possibly give her. After a few hours of sitting silently beside the fire, she claimed exhaustion, and lay down to sleep.

She dozed until a pop from the fire woke her with a start. Her eyes wandered and saw that Kahotep was lying down on a thin blanket across the fire. His eyes were closed, and the harsh planes of his face smoothed in the sleep of dreams. Nané watched him for a few moments, reassuring herself that he was not feigning sleep, rose silently from the ground, and then slipped into the shadows of night.

Quickly and quietly, she picked her way carefully across the stream. It was not deep, rising only to mid-calf, but the rocks were slick with mud and silt. When she reached the bank, Nané glanced behind her at the camp and saw no movement. She smiled in triumph, and turned and ran right into the arms of a very awake Kahotep.

Nané screamed and struggled, her legs kicking up high as she wiggled every which way to break out of his grasp. A foot connected with some part of his body that made him crumple into a heap on the ground with a heavy grunt. Nané scrambled to her feet, but before she could run, his hand was wrapped around her ankle. Kahotep twisted his wrist, and she fell, landing on top of him.

His strength was insurmountable in comparison to her feminine slightness, and she could not stop him when he rolled her beneath him. What panicked her, however, was not the thought of being imprisoned by her people’s enemy, but was the sensations that overcame her when he pressed himself down against her to keep her still. Nané could feel everything: his hard body, the rippling muscles, and the roughness of his body hair rubbing against her skin where her torn gown gave way. And his scent, it did something treacherously delicious to her mind; so dark and so thoroughly male.

Kahotep looked down upon his captive, and saw a myriad güvenilir bahis şirketleri of expressions run across her face. Fear, confusion, and something that had his anger changing abruptly to something baser. She was so beautiful, with her long, dark hair and beautiful, golden skin. He shifted his body so that he settled closer, and saw, with a perverse pleasure, her respond with a heady combination of fear and interest. Without giving her time to think or remember exactly why that fear should overcome her interest, Kahotep crushed his mouth to hers. He forced her lips open and plundered her mouth with his tongue.

Nané responded exactly as he thought she would, with the uncertainty of a novice, and he found that just as alluring as her beauty. He softened his mouth, loving her lips and her tongue with the sweet softness that the surrendering of innocence deserved.

She arched into his body, instinctively asking for what he was offering. Slowly, he descended to where her dress, torn at the shoulder from their struggles, had bared a breast for his attention. Kahotep laved his tongue across the tip, and it budded tightly. When he began tickling it with the tip of his tongue, Nané moaned softly; the seductive voice of her pleasure reverberating through both of their bodies.

Nané should not allow him such intimacies; her vows of chastity barring her from ever knowing the touch of a man. She was a vessel of prophesy, and her purity of body and soul, along with her kinship with the god Pharaoh, opened her to the heart of her goddess. Knowing all this, however, did not stop her from wanting the barbarian who threatened Egypt’s sovereignty. She would lose her power and status among the priestesses, perhaps even be condemned to death for breaking her vows.

The thought took hold, and Nané knew that she must save herself by refusing Kahotep. But before she could do anything, the man settled himself between her thighs, spreading them wide so that he could love the very center of herself. His tongue dipped into her, stroking until she was adrift in the mindless heat that was consuming her. Nané tried to resist, tried to push him away before she was completely lost to the need that burned through her body. Nevertheless, the man was too strong and her attempts were too feeble, and when he worked his magic tongue into her, she lost the will to save herself as powerful waves of pleasure washed over her.

Weakened by the unexpected sensations, Nané did not even notice as he rose above her. A thick force pressed against where she was most vulnerable, invading her body as nothing had before. Slowly, yet relentlessly, he filled her with himself. Her body stretched to accommodate him, welcoming him in with a wet heat that brought him to the very gates of her femininity.

Kahotep hesitated, as if realizing the implications of what he was about to do, and before he could decide whether he had the right to claim a woman already taken by the goddess, Nané thrust her hips up. She screamed from both pain and pleasure; the loss of her virginity a painful physical reminder of what she had done, the completion of man and woman a divine revelation of pure ecstasy.

They lay still for a moment, reveling in the sensations of their joining, then he moved, and she was thrust headlong into a whole new world of pleasure. Her slick heat aided him, allowing him to move faster and faster, deeper and deeper, until he was driving into her as if in a desperate search of something of more consequence than Nané could possibly imagine. So, she wrapped her arms and legs around him, and held onto him, cradled him, as he rode them into a bliss that shattered her thundering heart into a million pieces.

Nané now knew that she could never return to the temple, nor would she ever see her family again. By her very willingness to submit to this man made her a traitor, though she found, enveloped in the strength of a barbarian, that she felt no grief in this knowledge. Instead, she settled herself more comfortably in the arms of her man and listened to his heart as the beat slowed to a lethargic pace. Content, Nané knew that she would find a new place in the world, and the shattered pieces of her heart slipped back into place.

*

Definitions

Netjret (nTr.t, fem.): goddess

Hem-netjer (Hm-nTr, masc.); hemet-netjer (Hm.t-nTr, fem.): god’s servant

Kemet: Egypt, black country, and was a title the pharaoh could claim as he was seen as the heart of Egypt.

Ta-nuturi: To be honest, I found this online when I was looking up pharaohs, but I neglected to put down a definition. So, I can’t remember if it’s a name, title, or a phrase.

Bast: a war goddess; protector of the pharaoh. The cat is associated with Bast.

Apophis: a ruler of Lower Egypt during the fifteenth dynasty and the end of the Second Intermediate Period that was dominated by this foreign dynasty of rulers called the Hyksos.

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