by Lady Bast
Time moved strangely in Nekheb.
It crept slowly through the heat and the unchanging weather. Afternoons of hot sun were interminably long. Small meetings seemed never to end. Trowa could speak for hours with one of his guards or a servant wandering the passageways and be surprised to find, in the end, that no more than a handful of moments had passed. The languid laziness of days and nights melted into one another, becoming an endless hour and yet...yet...looking back, it had truly been days and nights. So many, in fact, that Trowa had nearly lost count. The moon told him he had been a guest in Nekheb for the better part of ten days and though his very being tried to deny it, a count of the evening meals he had so far survived proved his own notions wrong.
The evening meals were more reliable than the moon and stars for tracking time. No matter where he was...no matter what he was doing...Wufei would find him and remind him of the evening meal. In some ways Trowa found this irritating and in others a comfort. While he detested the thought of almost constant surveillance, he was relieved to have a regular break that would space out his days and nights.
And the challenge was refreshing.
"Do you mean to say that you think the rabble of your forces could possibly bring down this Empire?" Quatre's contempt was clear, but Trowa dismissed it as merely another facet of his changing personality.
Though there had not been another feast like the one on the night of his arrival, Trowa had often found the evening meal shared not only with the Prince, but with his closest administrators as well. Tonight they were few - only Duo, Selket-em-paf, and Rashid were present - served only by Wufei, Seb, and Tetiun. The more intimate gathering forced him to deal with the Prince more directly, but Trowa found it more comfortable none the less. Any more and there was a risk that Quatre would be insulted, calling for Duo's services...any less and he found himself without reliable witnesses should the Prince use something that was said against him. As it was, Trowa allowed himself to free his tongue a little.
"It has never been our intention to bring down an Empire," he stated firmly. "The barbarians breed like rabbits and overflow our fields. We are merely looking for a small area for our farmers to grow their crops...our merchants to sell their wares. Your officials did not even offer the courtesy of hearing our pleas so we decided to take what we could."
"A failed attempt..."
"Yes, but what I am suggesting now has nothing to do with war," said Trowa patiently. "This is a matter of trade."
"You mentioned the metal weapons of your people," snorted Quatre dismissively. "It seems like war talk to me."
Trowa laughed. "I am merely suggesting that with the proper backing, they could afford to increase production in their mines...and extend the reach of those mines if the land was not already settled with farmers. Don't you think your Pharaoh would appreciate metal weapons for his army in return for land and the protection of those same weapons?"
"Protection for all your people or only for the settlers?"
"Only the settlers, of course. Their yearly tithe would come to us as the produce we need and we would pay your Pharaoh for his lands with metals and able bodied men in times of crisis. Naturally our settlers would want to protect the land they till."
"But you would not be a part of Kemet?" The suspicion in Quatre's voice carried a razor's edge.
"Is Nubia not self-governed?" challenged Trowa. "It would be no different except that we would be a peaceful province as we have been granted space instead of being conquered."
"I think," said Selket-em-paf before the conversation could deteriorate, "that it would be a proposition worth making. If," he added quickly, squelching Trowa's elation before it could rise too far, "you took everything into account in your proposal. After all...you speak of the Pharaoh's portion...but who will pay tribute to the gods?"
For a moment Trowa was too stunned to speak. He had not heard of such a thing. But the Prince's Chief Administrator was a man of good organization skills and administrative wisdom and at the age of thirty-six, was worthy of respect. "Do people not serve their own gods?"
Selket-em-paf nodded. "They do, but few towns have a palace as does Nekheb. The temple is their centre of government. Where, then, do the temples acquire the funds necessary to continue their functions? They are not farmers. They take a portion of the yield from the fields they lease to farmers...as does the Pharaoh. Perhaps you will be lucky enough to be given land that does not belong to a temple, but I am doubtful of this. More likely than not your people will have landlords if your proposition is accepted."
"It is certain that Amun's temple will not do without its rightful share," agreed Quatre.
"My Prince is correct...there are state gods to attend to and perhaps local gods to appease. Will your people be happy giving their hard-earned grains to gods they do not worship? Or will they find among our own those they can accept and support without guilt?" Trowa felt his spirits wilt, but the Chief Administrator offered an encouraging smile. "Perhaps your time in Nekheb is not such a bad thing," he suggested. "If my Prince will allow it, I might give a little of my time to you to teach you what you must know if you wish to deal with the complex system of government that is Kemet. The Pharaoh, may he live long, be healthy and prosper, can only be impressed by eloquent and detailed propositions that give each - including your own people - his due."
"Provided, of course, that no such propositions are inflicted upon the Pharaoh without my knowledge and approval," said Quatre drily. "This man is still my charge and I won't have the Pharaoh's hounds upon my head for needless harassment in times of war."
"Rest assured that I will keep my Prince informed of any promising arrangements we happen to come up with," said Selket-em-paf smoothly. "And no letter can pass from either of our hands without approval. My Prince has little worry."
"Mmm...I'm sure. Do you really think you can handle such an education? I know you are wise, Selket-em-paf, but do you, who was mostly concerned with the affairs of the city, know all about the affairs of the gods?"
"Where I cannot help, another must. There are many priests within the city. One sits with us now." The Chief Administrator gestured toward Duo. Unusually quiet tonight, the braided priest was no less aware of his surroundings and smirked at the thought of being a teacher. Quatre looked horrified.
"You'll have us all damned at the scales then!" he exclaimed. "Better I should lecture on the proper order of the Gods than a disrupter like Duo!"
Looking away from his priest, Trowa was quiet certain that Quatre had not seen the smirk widen a fraction before Duo replied. "Quite right, my Prince. Are you not a miracle of the gods yourself? Our guest would be provided with a suitable education then...and Pharaoh - may he live long, be healthy, and prosper - will be very impressed by your initiative to enrich our country through new trade agreements that will keep the temples happy. Honours and merits will be heaped upon your name."
Wisely, Duo lowered his eyes and lifted his cup to drink as Quatre turned to face him, furious at being so shamelessly manoeuvred into spending more time with the barbarian prince. Trowa swallowed his own laughter with difficulty. There was no way the Prince could back out of the proposition without insult. Trowa felt a pang of fear at the thought of spending more time alone with Nekheb's ruler, but he stilled his heart. It was unlikely that the Prince would see him without an escort - most likely Rashid - and if the giant's faintly amused expression was a reliable gauge, the guards would be the ones to make the encounters endurable.
And, in all honesty, Quatre could be as alluring as fearsome. If Duo bore watching, then the Prince bore investigation. He could not see, taste, or touch it, but mystery shrouded this blond stranger...this foreigner...who kept watch over a province of dark hair and dark eyes. Eyes like the dimming of an evening sky...sharp expression burdened still with the softness of childhood that filled his cheeks and plumped his...pouting...yielding...lips...
Trowa shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He was wandering in dangerous territory.
"Very well," the Prince was saying to Duo before turning to include his guest in his speech. "I will give my aid in...teaching...our guest." His eyes narrowed in Trowa's direction. "But realize that we are busy, stranger...a Prince has little rest. Tomorrow I go to Nekhen across the river to oversee preparations for the festival of the child Horus. Selket-em-paf comes with me. You will have to amuse yourself until we return. Perhaps Duo will try to teach you the mysteries." A slight smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "But I think your time would be better spent sparring on the training ground. One should not let one's self become unfit simply because one is not engaged in war. Don't you agree, prince Trowa?"
In fact, prince Trowa chaffed under the hint of royal 'we'...as though this minor prince had connections to the throne when he was little more than a governor. But even more insulting was the implied notion that was letting himself become weak. Unfit. The pang of guilt he felt made him wonder if he didn't agree and he assuaged it with mean thoughts. How, then, do you keep yourself fit, O Great Prince, when your body shows no callous and milkfat still clings to your bones?
But he replied, "I agree entirely. It would please me greatly to spar on the practise grounds. Only I did not know if it was allowed for a guest such as myself to practise with weapons."
"I trust Rashid's men implicitly," said the Prince with a cool smile. So perfect was his mask that Trowa nearly doubted the spark of pain and guilt that flashed behind the blue glass of his eyes. Nearly...but he took note. "I trust they will keep you contained. Now," said Quatre, scowling at the empty dishes scattered before him, "the meal is over. Duo...prince Trowa...you are dismissed. Selket-em-paf, I would like to speak with you with regards to tomorrow. Rashid, stay with us. I will wish to discuss security as well." When his guests hesitated to leave, his eyes flashed fire. "Go! Take the rest of the wine if you like, but leave! I have business matters to discuss."
Duo was the first to obey. With a quirky smile, he snatched up the jug of wine and offered the Prince a quick bow. Trowa, too, stood and bowed and they filed from the room together, followed by Seb and Tetiun. Trowa sighed as he stepped into the hallway only to be joined by his guards - one of Quatre's and one of Heero's. Although he had been watched even on his first night in the palace, Trowa had at least managed to retain the illusion of privacy. Since his nighttime prowling near the Prince's chambers, security had made itself more and more visible until it seemed that he must walk everywhere flanked by people. Duo offered him a helpless shrug. "Need another to walk you to your chamber?"
"I have company enough," replied Trowa drily. "But please yourself."
"I try to," grinned the priest, handing the wine jug out to Seb. "Thank you...you may return to Heero now. I'm sure he'll be overjoyed to see you." Seb rolled his eyes silently and Duo chuckled. "Nevertheless, duty first...and I dismiss you. Take the wine for a treat. In fact, why don't you join him, Tetiun? Unless your master has further work for you..."
"No," said Trowa, offering his servant a fierce stare before he could speak. "I will need you later, but not now. I feel like walking. Go and enjoy the wine...I'm sure these two won't let me get into trouble." He nodded in the direction of the guards.
Tetiun looked vaguely hurt, but obeyed. "I think he's taken to you," said Duo with amusement as he watched the two servants disappear down the hallway. "He genuinely loves to serve...but then he is a little brother and has had nothing but good masters. From servant's point of view, of course; others might argue the fact. You there!" he commanded, pointing at Heero's soldier. "Djoser-metu, was it? You stay back...this is a private talk. You too, Faruq. Or I will tell Rashid that you're fond of sticking your nose where it doesn't belong! You see? It's all in how you give the order," said Duo with satisfaction as the two guards bowed their heads and backed away slightly. "By rights they should not listen to me at all. Unless they're humouring me..."
"Maybe they're afraid you'll curse them," said Trowa. It was not quite a jest. The image of the wax doll floated before him. Nothing serious had occurred, but...
"Curse them? Not my priesthood! We're as gentle as lambs! Sure, there might be a few heated words...some sharp remarks...but in the end it will be all smiles and invitations to the feast." Duo's grin faltered when Trowa offered him a questioning look. "Eh...I forget. You haven't been around long enough to appreciate that joke. [29] If it's any consolation, it was in very bad taste..."
Trowa couldn't help smiling. "I am strangely unsurprised."
They walked in silence for a time and then...
Come with me.
The voice was so low that, at first, Trowa thought he must have been mistaken. But he heard it again - Come with me - and, dropping his own voice, whispered. "Where?"
Follow.
"How?"
Duo walked beside him, twisting his fingers at his belly. Trowa saw them subtly wind around the priest's belt rather than themselves. A length of linen coiled itself into his palm as his fingers pulled at the other end. He offered Trowa a mischief-filled smile and looked over his shoulder at the guards. "Did you see the sky tonight, Faruq?"
The Saracen guard looked faintly concerned. "Yes, Pure One. But there was nothing unusual there. Have you seen an omen?"
"It did seem a bit dark." Duo offered a non-committal shrug. Trowa listened carefully while pretending to examine a river scene mural that snaked its way around the corner of a new corridor. "It is likely nothing. Although storms come quickly and violently. Often when they are unexpected."
If the soldier had a reply, Trowa never got to hear it. At that moment, Duo twisted about, swinging the length of linen in a wide arc as it split and released an expanding cloud of white sand. The guards stumbled back with shouts of surprise their arms inadequate protection against the thickest of the grit which struck them full in the face. To stunned to move, Trowa froze as Heero's soldier, Djoser-metu, screamed that his eyes were burning. When he looked back, Duo was little more than a thick brown braid trailing away down the side corridor. Panic and confusion seized him for the barest moment and then he was flying down the hallway with Faruq's angry cry of "DU-O!" fading behind him.
What have I gotten myself into, thought Trowa desperately as Duo tossed a wild grin over his shoulder and bolted through a door on his left. Having no other choice, Trowa followed.
And found the room empty.
It was a small room. A chamber for less important guests, he supposed, as it was still well furnished with a proper couch, table, chairs, and chest. There was no place that Duo could be hiding...no place he could have gone. Except...
The guest quarters were too high up for any man to jump from the window and live. None the less, Trowa approached it cautiously, drew aside the beaded curtain and leaned over the sill.
"Miss me?"
Trowa gasped sharply, only barely managing to contain a shout of surprise. On his left, Duo clung tightly to a long rope, his feet supported on two wooden floor beams protruding from the wall of the palace. "What in the name of all the gods are you doing?" he hissed.
"Whose gods, prince Trowa? Yours or mine?" Though barely visible against the dark night, the priest's eyes gleamed with moonlight. "I'm going to the roof. You're welcome to join me."
"There are other ways to get to the roof!"
"None where the guards wouldn't follow." Duo inclined his head a moment and listened. "Speaking of which, I think I hear them coming. If you plan to follow me, come now. If you are with me, I can have you pardoned for escape. But if you are alone..." Here he shrugged to show that the matter was out of his hands.
Cries of alarm drifted in from the hallway behind him. Heights had never bothered him before, but Trowa could not recall having ever had to climb something so vertical.
"Hurry, it isn't far," came Duo's taunting whisper. "Come now or not at all. I have to jump over two beams before the rope is straight enough to climb. If you don't come, I won't wait for you."
Without another moment of thought, Trowa reached out to grab the rope a little ways above Duo and swung himself out into the night air. Gripping the line tightly, he landed with his feet against the outer wall and braced them there.
"Now...on my signal, push off and jump to your right. Ready? Now!"
Unthinking - if he permitted himself to think, he would realize how ridiculous this was - Trowa pushed off with all his might, throwing his weight to the right as he did so. There was a moment of suspension as the robe sailed over the support beam of the roof and he felt the wall beneath his feet once again, feet skidding as his sandals scrambled for purchase.
"Again!"
It was little more than a hoarse whisper, but Trowa's mind grasped it as a shouting command and he repeated the action, breathing heavily with the delirious thrill of doing something forbidden. A war prisoner escaping his guards could have dire consequences, of this he was certain, but for now there was only the moment and the momentary taste of freedom. Freedom from the watchful eyes of guards, princes, and...yes...even body servants. The night air was much cooler than the daytime - almost crisp in his lungs as the last of the sun-baked heat blew away - and the sky was clear and full of stars. Perhaps he had not escaped all eyes after all; he felt as though the gods were watching. But their gaze was filled with an amused approval and Trowa felt blessed.
"Oy! The view is lovely, but you'll have to climb too! Or don't princes climb in your country?"
"They do on ships," whisper-laughed Trowa in return. Then, hand over hand, he began to climb.
It was not until he had cleared the roof that he thought he heard the organized chaos of the guards searching the room they had just left, but by then Duo had joined him and wound the rope up above the level of the window. There would be no guessing their escape. Unless, of course, one or more of them were intimately familiar with Duo's tricks.
He decided not to worry about that right now.
The priest was doubled over with mirth at his own game. "Uh-ha...prince! Did you see the look on Djoser's face? You'd think he'd never had a little grit in his eyes before! Burning indeed..."
"It was only sand? And here I thought you'd placed an enchantment on it!"
"Good. That's why they'll never catch me. So long as they think I spirited you away by magic, they'll never even consider coming up here after us." Duo risked a cautious look over the edge of the roof. "If they looked out the window, I could spit on their heads and they'd think it was raining."
"It's a good thing you're so modest," Trowa smiled. "Otherwise you might overstep yourself."
"Absolutely right."
The priest's tone was so serious that for a moment Trowa feared he had missed the slight reproof, but a twinkled from Duo's eyes told the prince that he was well aware of the consequences of pride. "So why have you magically spirited me away, Pure One?" he said instead. "Not that it is not appreciated. The air in the palace is...oppressive."
"Exactly for that reason." Duo's grin twitched with malice. "And because I wished to get my hands on you before our beloved Prince - may he live long, be healthy, and prosper - could. Without your guardians, of course."
"Ah...the disrupter remark," said Trowa knowingly, casting about for a place to sit. He chose a spot near the opposite wall, brushed away some sand and stretched out his legs with the wall at his back. "I didn't think it would affect you."
Duo snorted. "Affect me? Not at all. The Prince was entirely correct. I couldn't teach you the proper way to go about things...not because I don't know them, but because I won't hold with them. That is why I am a disrupter...and why I plan to get to you first." Nonchalant, he flopped down onto the roof beside Trowa and leaned back against the wall to look at the stars. "You see, for all its structure of etiquette, religion is not very structured here. We are too strung out. We have the resources to support the government - although for how long is beyond me - but we couldn't possibly support both the government and the temple structure. So, by giving leeway to the temples, the people are content to worship the gods that they please and, in their contentment, do as the government decrees. Does this make sense?"
"Some," said Trowa with uncertainty. "Do you mean that you have many gods as we do? That much I already knew."
"Er...in a sense. There are many gods." Duo bit his lip. "Tell me, prince Trowa..."
"Please, if we are speaking frankly, make it Trowa."
"Trowa then. Tell me if you have a god above the other gods."
"Well...yes. There must be someone to keep things in order." Trowa was not a deeply religious man, but he could see that the priest wanted more and so he supplied a name. "We call him Tinia. He is the god of the sky."
"Married?"
"Ye-es...to Uni, goddess of marriage."
"You sound uncertain."
"Well, gods are not always known for their fidelity," replied Trowa, embarrassed.
Duo flashed him a grin. "Agreed. Adulterous lot, aren't they?" Trowa couldn't help but chuckle. "It's no different here, I can assure you. Although you'll likely find 'families' of gods more often than not, the really fun stories come from those who are far less faithful. But that is not my point. My point is that you have a god set above the others mated to a goddess set above the others and this remains constant, yes?"
"Of course."
"Not so here. You see...while I'm sure My Prince - may he live long, be healthy, and prosper - will teach you the proper order of things, this will only apply to those who hold the biggest temples. Size, I'm sure you know, does matter."
Duo winked at him and Trowa burst out laughing. "Is that what those strange structures that I have seen represent?" he chuckled, motioning with his hands.
"Obelisks? [30] Gods, no...those represent Pharaohs battling for supremacy." Duo grinned when this produced a fresh bout of laughter. "Although, they are technically gods so you might be on to something. Would it help to be told that most of the biggest were erected by a woman?"
A poor choice of words. Trowa found it unbearably funny. His laughter brought tears and he could feel them thicken with the kohl about his eyes before they finally trickled down his cheeks. He was going to look a fright. Tetiun would probably insist on a bath. Somehow this made the whole situation seem even funnier and he feared he would choke before he finally brought his laughter under control. "Ah-huh...I don't think I've laughed like that in ages."
"It feels good, doesn't it? I find it difficult to laugh in the palace...which is why I prefer the roof." Duo's voice carried the warmth and pride of a job well done and Trowa realized that the play of words had been intentional and for his benefit. He said nothing, but he was grateful. "My intention was to point out that Prince Quatre has spent many years training in the temple of Amun as he must be of sufficient rank to perform the daily ceremonies to the gods on behalf of our Pharaoh - may he live long...Set take the damned blessings." Duo sighed. "They program those things into you, you know! This means that his primary knowledge of the religious system is based on the temple of Amun which is a very powerful force and whose doctrine is known pretty much throughout the country. Known, but not followed. Do you understand?"
Trowa gave the statement due consideration as he tried to inconspicuously remove his spoiled make-up without the advantage of a mirror. "I think I do. Do you have an example?"
Duo nodded. "Of course. The temple of Amun says that Amun created the world...but before Amun was more than a local god, it was said that Ra created the world. And though Amun's is the most powerful temple in these times, any who do not worship him directly might be offended to hear him placed above Ra. Therefore it is most prudent to refer to them as one: Amun-Ra. This is acceptable to both temples and to the population at large since the rest of the story is pretty much the same - though Prince Quatre would likely only tell you of Amun. Do you see?"
"Yes," said Trowa, nodding. "There is dispute regarding the greatest god and so I will refer to him as Amun-Ra."
"Exactly. Unless," said Duo with an evil grin, "You are in Mennofer or its environs. Then the great god is Ptah. And his story is completely different."
Trowa paled. "Completely?"
"Completely. Oh...but if you are in Sais, the great god is a goddess. Neith. In the region of Sais, there is no one more powerful. Outside of their region, the priests of Neith will nod and agree pleasantly with you if you say otherwise, but they know that you are a fool. Neith's temple is so old that most have forgotten what it was - her priests included - but it is inviolate. And, of course, in many of the smaller cities beneath the Pharaoh's religious notice there are no temples to Amun, Ra, Ptah, or Neith. In that case, the local god is the great god and can be slotted into whatever story you like, providing they hold the highest prominent position." Duo grinned. "Still wish to talk politics?"
Overwhelmed, Trowa shifted uncomfortably in place. "I...I can't possibly remember all of that."
"Don't worry, neither can anyone else."
"So...what do you recommend?"
"I recommend listening to everything My Prince tells you, of course," said Duo, exaggerating a pleasant tone of voice. "He will no doubt tell you about the grand order of things which is at least familiar to most if not entirely accepted. Then, when you go off to meet with your potential landlords, refer to the recipient of your religious tithe simply as "The Great God"...their actual name is bound to come up in the paperwork. The temples love paperwork. If, as it is in some regions, there are secondary gods whose temples will be the ones to lease your lands, you'll be informed of their presence. All in all it will make you sound like you know more than you do and it will flatter the gods of small regions to death. If you can flatter a god to death. Most of them have egos the size of a stone-hauling barge."
"Even yours?"
"The worst of the lot," replied Duo with pride. "Why fight for popularity when you can rule over notoriety?"
"And this was the great secret for which you stole me away?" Despite his teasing, Trowa was relieved. What had seemed an impossible swamp of muck and mire, Duo had simplified considerably. "It hardly seems worth the trouble once we're caught."
The priest chuckled. "It is an important piece of advice, that is certain. For those who wish to talk politics, the way to stay within the good graces of as many princes as possible is a valuable tool. But I'll admit that there is more. All you can by taught by My Prince and the venerable Selket-em-paf can be broken down into letters and numbers. They will teach you the trade talk of the gods. I thought...perhaps...you would like to meet one or two of them. After all, you might meet with someone who is not proficient in trade talk and who only knows the gods from their soul...and soul talk is best learned in person."
"Ah," said Trowa with incredulity. "I suppose you'll summon one up for me then?"
"Nothing so vulgar," replied Duo with wry humour. "Look up."
Hesitantly - for didn't the priest seem confident in his knowledge? - Trowa looked up and saw...
"It's the moon," he informed Duo, unimpressed.
"The moon belongs to many gods," said the priest, dismissing Trowa's comment with a wave of his hand. "But who holds it tonight? The moons is always different...how does it feel tonight?"
Trowa sighed and contemplated the milky glow of the nearly-full moon. How could the moon have moods? It was like saying that a rockface looked joyful or depressed. But then, couldn't it? Weren't some stretches of hillside lonelier than others? And didn't the moon seem imperious tonight? It offered them light politely, but it was no friend. It knew how far above them it sat. There was a beautiful grace about it - much like his sister's princessly demeanour - but the moon was cold where she was warm. Mystical...magical...and beyond his reach forever.
He tried to relate this as best he could to Duo who simply nodded.
"I thought as much. I said to myself, 'Ast is up there tonight making magic as sure as fish swim and I'll be damned if Trowa doesn't feel it too.' And so I brought you up here."
"Ast?"
"I'm sure Prince Quatre will speak of her. She is very powerful in magic," said Duo with a nod. "She can be friendly sometimes, but when she holds the moon in the night she doesn't worry about showing her cold face to the world. She is very powerful and she knows it and while she is kind to those who acknowledge her, she does no grand thing that will not benefit her person."
"And she is a princess," said Trowa with certainty.
"In a manner of speaking, yes."
"I should like to meet another."
And so Duo took him beyond the moon to the darkened sky where stars spilled like dazzling jewels and this, he said, was Nut, mother of Ast and wife of Geb, the Earth. She was an entity of confusion, deeply lonely for her husband, but caring of the people who would be crushed by their meeting. She spanned the heavens, cradling life to her body as she had held it in her womb and if ever she forgot her place and tried to descend to meet her husband, she was stopped by her own father, Shu - Shu, the breath of air between the Earth and Sky - before she could harm the living with the weight of her stars and her planets. She was very beautiful, it had to be admitted, but lonely as well. She carried a deep, dark sadness by night which was overwhelming though she could cradle and nurture life by day. Trowa could see it, feel it, and while he did not think he could ever be a part of her worship, he understood how others might feel looking up her vast expanse of light and darkness and knew that this was all that he needed.
"And your god?" he said at last.
"Too late and too dark for introductions," grinned Duo. Then, as an afterthought, he waved one arm toward the desert. "Out there mainly...though you can feel him tonight if you know where to look."
"And where might that be?"
"Anywhere! Gods don't need to sleep...although some do. They like the sensation, I suppose. But Set prowls...and no one can see what you do in the dark. Although..." Duo trailed off and bit at his lip a moment. "Do you ever get lonely? You have been here...what?...ten days? Eleven now? You have yet to ask any of the serving girls to your bed or request that one of better breeding be provided for you."
"I've...never been the kind to take advantage of defenseless woman," replied Trowa after some hesitation. "I know that it is no unusual to take servants to bed...but I am not comfortable with it."
"You're disappointing a lot of good workers, Trowa. And the market? You have never bothered to look for a rich girl there? We don't keep our women on leashes here...any number of women would be happy to bed with you, even temporarily, in the hopes that some of your position and nobility would rub off on them. There would be no obligation although it would be in good form to offer her a fine gift if you plan to leave her to compensate for any money her family might have lost in trades without her service."
"That's..." Trowa had been about to say 'disgusting', but it wasn't...not really. Not if he thought about it. "That's something I'd never even considered. It isn't done that way back home. Still, I don't think it is the choice for me."
"Of course not. You prefer this, don't you?"
Trowa did not even have time to speak before Duo's lips covered his own and drew him into their warmth. He had not dreamed of this, but the Priest was not unattractive, carrying himself with an unconscious self-assurance that was intoxicating. Now he was the whole world and Trowa felt his hands rising to caress the distinct shape of his shoulder, the smooth roundness of his face, the silky tangle of his hair, as he fell ever deeper into the kiss. He melted against the hot mouth of another boy...of another man...
And his eyes flew open in alarm. "No!" he cried, giving the priest a shove that ripped them violently apart. "Get away from me!"
"I thought as much," said Duo with a knowing nod.
Trowa was shocked. "You knew?"
"Ever since you arrived you have ducked away from the touch of one or another," explained the priest. "I know for a fact that it is quite permissible for friends, even male friends, to show affection in this part of the world. Those who will not have more than usual to hide. I am only surprised that you did not find Tetiun to your liking."
"Tetiun? But is he..."
Duo shrugged. "Maybe. Probably not. Maybe he has had me as a master for too long and has no preference. In any case, he is your body servant and will serve your body in its every need. It may not cure loneliness, but it staves it off a touch, don't you think?"
"But I..."
"I've told you...he's taken with you. I can tell. I have eyes you know." Duo gave him a wink. "Personally, I think he is more in love with your position and the novelty of serving a stranger than yourself, no offense intended"
Trowa worried his lower lip. "I don't know. Have you ever..."
Duo snorted. "I have a strange job, Trowa. I am too damned tired to fool around with the servants. But he's watched."
"Gods, Duo! I didn't need to know that!"
"Sorry...sorry..." snickered Duo, not sorry at all. "Just part of the duty, you know."
"As this is part of mine," said a voice before Trowa could reply.
Heero's form melted from the darkness of the shadows to join them in moonlight. His expression was one of mild disapproval. "I thought I might find you here," he said, jabbing Duo's leg with the butt of his spear. "You should choose your company more carefully."
"Just because prince Trowa is a foreigner does not mean...OW!"
"I was speaking to the prince, priest," said Heero, with a faint scowl. "Next time you'll get the other end of my spear. You'd best come with me, Trowa. The Prince is still in conference and probably doesn't know that you're 'missing' yet. I think we can convince the guards to be quiet about this...at least for now. I doubt they would want to admit to being foiled by such a simple trick."
Trowa sighed and stood. "Don't, Heero. I left on my own. Duo wants to claim responsibility...you want to cover it up entirely...but I don't want to live in subterfuge. I was a soldier once against your country, but a soldier...not a spy. If you must treat me like a prisoner, so be it. But treat me like a prisoner...not like a child."
"Fine. The next time you pull a stupid escape stunt, you're on your own," replied Heero without emotion. "But this would reflect badly on me. First my soldiers allowed you to wander in a wing you were not permitted to enter and then they allowed you to escape. I don't need any more trouble. Duo will not claim responsibility for anything. Duo was not here. The guards brought you to your chambers and that was that. Agreed?"
Though feeling vaguely ashamed for causing trouble to the first person to extend a hand in friendship, Trowa couldn't help but smile at this admission of humanity. "If it will serve you, I agree."
"I will too...if you don't jab me with that thing again," Duo sulked as he pulled himself to his feet. "How did you find us anyway?"
"My wife, my daughter and their servants have been getting mysterious gifts. The guards swear that no one has entered the room. The people below have never seen anyone at the base of the wall," said Heero over his shoulder. Trowa thought that he could make out the barest of smiles. "Not all of us are superstitious."
Trowa did not need to see a blush to note Duo's embarrassment and he laughed quietly as they were led back down the staircase. Duo slipped away quickly - perhaps toward his apartments, perhaps on some errand - and Heero himself escorted Trowa to his chambers. Tetiun was already there, stretched out on his pallet, but hardly asleep. A portion of his conversation with Duo came back to haunt him, but Trowa dismissed it almost casually. Even if Duo was right, where was the hurry? If he could guess the tides, he doubted he would leave Nekheb anytime soon and tonight he felt no loneliness. Instead, he expressed his desire for a shower - the dry wind and his running make-up actually made him yearn for it - and for a proper massage, the best that Tetiun could provide. The simple joy and, yes, pride that the request produced was proof enough of one thing: Tetiun was honestly pleased to serve and bring pleasure to others.
The realization did not stir up feelings of desire so much as a feeling of shame. This attitude, though appropriate to a servant, would it not be put to better use elsewhere? What sort of good would it do in the hands of a ruler? Should a prince not enjoy serving his people even as his people serve him?
He thought momentarily of the Prince of Nekheb and his perfect city. Everything in place...every aspect running smoothly...every person a faceless entity known by position and not by name. Like the Prince himself, the city was beautiful...but it was a chill beauty.
But he would be spending more time with Prince Quatre once he returned from Nekhen...and then, perhaps, he might find a way to share this insight. In the meantime, he allowed Tetiun to fall into step behind him and his guards to either side of him as walked the now familiar path down to the guest showers.
[29] For those who didn't read "Strength of One", being invited to Seth's place for dinner seems to be the mythological equivalent of that ominous violin music they play in mob movies...or wearing a red shirt in the original Star Trek.
[30] Tall, thin stone columns with a point (usually electrum) on the top for those who aren't in the architectural know. 'Cleopatra's Needle', as it is known, is an obelisk and, as Duo pointed out, was actually commissioned by Hatshepsut, Egypt's first and most powerful (more so than many of the men) female Pharaoh. The only obelisks to surpass hers in height belong to her successor, Thutmose III.
"The Prince of Nekheb" copyright A.C.Smith (aka Lady Bast), 2002. Send comments to asmith@ican.net Please do not repost or print (other than for personal use) without permission. The Gundam boys and all their paraphenelia belong to whomever currently holds the rights...I'm just borrowing them for a while. No infringement is intended, really. Really really. Please don't sue me, I have no money. If, however, you have a burning desire to hire me and PAY me money to write this kinda stuff, feel free to track me down.