by Lady Bast
"Tetiun, I don't recognize any of this! This is nothing like the last feast."
"No, Master. This one is much less formal," said the body servant in a low voice so that no one would suspect that he was lending his aid. "In order to encourage people to circulate and meet, food is put on high tables and no chairs are provided although there are a few corners filled with cushions for those who wish to rest a moment. It is hoped that by wandering from table to table and corner to corner, you will speak to the other guests instead of simply gawking at them."
Trowa shut his mouth quickly. "I didn't expect anyone to be more elaborately dressed at a casual feast than at a formal one."
"At a formal feast, no one should dare to outshine the Prince, but since he may not even make an appearance tonight, it is safe to make as much or as little a spectacle of one's self as one wishes. I am glad, though, that you decided to wear a kilt instead of your native costume. Hold still a moment, your kohl has smudged."
"Must you be so fussy?" Trowa complained, but held still as the young man reached up to fix the smeared cosmetics. "I've got enough make-up and jewellery on to make me the envy of my sister and several of her friends. As to the costume, I didn't want to draw attention from Relena. This is her feast after all. "
"That is kind of you. And if you must know, Master, I think you are not nearly made-up enough. The visiting nobles will think you a poor prince indeed. I wish you had let me use the gold dust and find you a wig."
"I'm not wearing false hair for you or for anyone," snorted Trowa. "Bad enough I needed to borrow much of this. I'm afraid I'll lose it or have it stolen right off my body."
"Lord Heero is very generous and with the guards' eyes always upon you, I doubt that it will roam far. I'm sure my former master Duo would have offered, but...well...red does not suit you at all and it's best to leave a priest's belongings to a priest."
"I'm sure. Is it fixed? I'd like to find someone I recognize. I feel like a piece of meat in the marketplace."
Tetiun sighed, either ignorant of the eyes that turned toward them or uncaring. "If you'd worn a wig, they'd notice you less. Bad enough that you have paler skin and paler eyes, but that scruff of light brown hair stands out worst of all."
"It is not a scruff!"
"It is! Little bits stick up no matter what I do and you have that barbaric fringe that hides your face."
"It is not barbaric! Do I wear it long enough to brush my finger-tips, plaited in mud and animal fat? No. That is barbaric!"
"It hides your eyes."
"You said they wouldn't like my eyes."
"They'll like your hair even less. It looks unclean."
"Unclean! You smear grease and mud on my face and call my hair unclean!" said Trowa with good-natured indignity. "I can't believe I'm having this conversation with a servant. Did you ever speak to Duo this way?"
Tetiun withdrew his brush somewhat sulkily. "There. Done. You're as flawless as you'll allow my poor talents to make you. And Master Duo was different...is different...and everyone already knows it."
"But I'm not even native!
"That's no excuse."
Trowa sighed dramatically. He could end the argument at any time by simply ordering Tetiun to be quiet, but he'd grown rather fond of his servant's quirks. He was about to begin the next round of the argument when a familiar voice interrupted him.
"Oy! Trowa! Tetiun! Here we are, together once again," grinned Duo, exploding into their midst with an almost frenetic joy. "Have you seen the honoured Lady Relena? I want to congratulate her on her new position. Or should that wait until she knows about it?" He winked at Trowa and lowered his voice like a child sharing a most delicious secret. "The Prince is going to make her the unofficial lady of the palace, you know. She is to see to special events during her stay. Tet, do you have any more gold dust? Seb is out."
"The last thing you need is more gold dust," said Tetiun. Trowa smiled.
If he had thought himself weighed with jewellery, it was only because Trowa had not yet seen Duo. Although the priest's regular kilt and pectoral had not changed very much, he had decorated himself with every sort of ornament imaginable. Gold bracelets clamped his arms over their red wrappings, necklaces and hair beads clattered, ribbons streamed, and ever his sandals had been dyed. Mystic symbols traced their way up his spine, painted in dabs of red ochre, and his skin glittered, dusted in gold. "But my legs haven't been done properly!" he complained.
Trowa couldn't help smiling. "No one will look at your legs," he said. "Why are you here? I enjoy your company, but you have no wife."
Duo snorted. "Nor do you. No doubt we are here for the same reason: by the invitation of the Lady Relena herself." He looked puzzled for a moment, then smiled sheepishly. "Tet, do you know where I might find my incense tube? I haven't used it in so long. Well, long enough," he amended. It seemed to Trowa that he was trying out the words and tasting the fit of their truth. "I haven't used it recently," he decided, his smile strained. "Forgive my memory...I guess I just don't like to think about such things."
Not a lie, thought Trowa, but not quite the truth. Tetiun looked concerned, but forced a smile.
"The incense tube should be in the floor chest on the left side of the your room beneath the shelves where you keep the seed pods. It will be near the bottom. I tucked in it deep because I didn't want it to be caught between two heavier pieces where it might break. That's why you can't find it."
Duo sighed with relief far deeper than the mere finding of a lost object could account for. "Thank you, Tetiun. I was starting to think that I was losing my mind. Ah! There's Wufei. I'll be back in a moment." He raised his hand to signal the steward and ran after him, dodging and weaving through the crowd.
"He is," said Tetiun.
Trowa turned to his servant and raised an eyebrow. "He is what?"
"Losing his mind," said Tetiun sadly. "He knows where that tube is. He told me to put it there. He shouldn't have forgotten. He forgets nothing. Not faces, not names...nothing. I wish...I wish he wouldn't use the assassin's drug anymore," he whispered.
Trowa frowned and glanced discretely around the room. The guests chattered amongst themselves, waiting for Relena's arrival, and did not seem to have any interest in his conversation. "What is this drug," he asked in a low voice.
"What he calls his medicine," replied the servant. "The Bedouin bring it from the East. It dulls pain in case...in case the target should fight back and injure his attacker. If an assassin uses it, he can do his job even if he is wounded. This is how Master Duo used to use it."
"But?" prompted Trowa.
"But...Master Duo's proficiency is with drugs and poisons," sighed Tetiun. "He tests them on himself and sometimes even a non-lethal dose can have side effects that are painful."
"And he's been using the drug to counter those effects," said Trowa. He didn't need to see his servant nod to know that he was right.
"It isn't dangerous a little at a time, but he seems to be in pain more often than not and uses it accordingly. I think it is affecting his memory. I am not a physician," said Tetiun, "but I served Master Duo from the time he came to Nekheb until your arrival and learned a few things. The gradual use and gradual sickness seem to suit one another."
"I don't doubt that you're right," said Trowa, more to himself than to his servant. Duo was returning with Wufei in tow. The steward managed to free himself enough to offer Trowa a cursory bow.
"Another unmarried man for the masses," laughed the priest. "And what a strange group we are! Servants and stewards and priests and foreign devils. We should all stay together so that the unmarried women can easily find us...assuming they don't throw themselves at the entertainment first."
"But I do have a wife," insisted Wufei, his expression a combination of annoyance and amusement.
"She isn't here, is she?" The sly look in Duo's eye made Trowa wonder if he was even aware of how rude his comment must be. Surprisingly, Wufei seemed barely affected. His jaw tightened, but the lines of his face relaxed. Nor did he flinch when the priest slid an arm around his waist. "You know it isn't adultery to spend time with another man," said Duo near the steward's ear, his voice just loud enough for Trowa to hear him.
"No, I understand that it is considered something far worse," replied Wufei primly though he did not step away.
"Not when you're with me."
Duo grinned wickedly, an expression so startling that Trowa nearly missed the slight twitch of the priest's hand as he tucked something into Wufei's belt. Or had he? The motion had been so discreet that Trowa could not be sure. However, it would explain much about the conversation. Shock used as misdirection. Wufei remained unperturbed.
"Thank you, but no," he said mildly, carefully plucking the priest's hand from his hip and letting it drop, the advance rejected. "Lord Heero and Lady Relena will be here shortly. I want to be on hand when they arrive."
"And like a goddess called, so she appears," said Duo, unoffended. A stir at the doorway announced the arrival of the guest of honour and her husband. Trowa turned and nearly choked on a mouthful of grapes. If they had not been expected, he might not have recognized them. Both were perfectly painted and flawlessly dressed, but this was not unusual. Nor was the jewellery. Though there was more of it, it was tastefully chosen. What surprised Trowa the most were the wigs. He had never seen Heero in anything but his tight-fitting helmet and the short, black hair was almost a distraction. It served Relena better, framing her face with a curtain of black silk and tiny lotus blossoms. Having spotted him, they raised their hands in greeting and and hurried to join him before those seeking favour could block their path.
"I am so glad you came!" said Relena, bowing quickly. "A familiar face before a host of new ones is a relief to my heart."
"I am pleased to be invited," replied Trowa, smiling, "but I don't think the guest of honour is meant to abase herself."
Relena smiled as a little of the tension left her face. "In matters of protocol, it is better to be safe than sorry. A prince might bow to a servant and seem magnanimous, but a servant who fails to bow is insolent." This said, she bowed to Duo - who bowed to her in return - to Wufei, and to Tetiun, Seb, and Miusheri for good measure.
"The Lady speaks with wisdom and wit," grinned Duo. "And why won't you bow to me, Heero?"
"I'd sooner bow to a dog," replied the soldier good-naturedly.
Duo shook his head in mock disappointment. "Your wife is more clever than you, if that's the best you can do, little Horus."
"Banter doesn't suit me," said Heero, unconcerned. "What we wanted to ask was whether you would come around with us and make the introductions. You seem familiar with almost everyone in Nekheb and we know no one."
"That's fair enough. None of them know you either."
Heero smiled wryly. "I prefer to be a step ahead of the enemy. You would give us an advantage over the others."
Duo threw his hands in the air. "Defeated by strategy," he sighed. "I'll go with you, but only if I may be the escort of your charming wife. Your conversation won't be worth a handful of grain."
"Fine, but unless a new law has been passed to allow women more than one husband, you'll be walking on her left side."
"As usual," sighed Duo, bowing to Relena a second time and offering his arm to her. "The left hand is my place. You might let Wufei walk on her right, however. I think he has something to say."
"Then he is welcome to join us," said Heero. "As are you, Trowa. I doubt you've had the chance to be formally introduced to anyone."
Trowa accepted graciously, walking slightly behind the guest of honour and her entourage. Wufei walked with him, speaking to Relena over her shoulder of the preparations that had been made for the evening and which of her suggestions had been changed and accepted. With her husband on her right hand and Duo on her left, Relena spoke openly to the noble women of the city to whom she was introduced. Trowa supposed that with so many companions she felt well protected against foreign customs and her own folly. As for himself, Trowa found that Duo had been quite serious about his status as a single man. Primarily a women's celebration, the only men present had come with their wives. Many married women had come alone. The unmarried women had not brought escorts other than their own servants. As a foreign prince, he was the object of many advances, which he declined courteously.
As the wine shared with his new acquaintances began to take effect, Trowa noticed a hush near the door. "Just in time for the entertainment," said Duo from off to his right.
"I didn't think the Prince had any interest in our little celebration," Heero's voice was cold, his body tense.
"The Prince may go where he pleases within the walls of his own palace," replied Wufei, adopting the mask of the competent steward.
Trowa said nothing. Instead, he watched intently as Inuiu announced his master and the Prince stepped forward. Unlike the guests, who quickly withdrew to the tables, Katrah-en was simply dressed. In fact, he wore even less make-up than usual and a simple cloth cap covered the gold of his hair. He crossed the room unimpeded and mounted the first step of the dais. The silence of the hall was tomb-like, but he raised his hands nonetheless.
"I welcome you all," he said, his voice ringing against the walls of stone. "I know you are gathered here to become better acquainted with our special guests, the Lord Heero and Lady Relena of Pi-Ramesses, but while you are all gathered together, I would like to take the opportunity to present a number of favours."
A general murmuring began and Trowa whispered back to Tetiun. "What sort of favours?"
"Any sort," the servant replied, matching his tone. "Jewellery mostly, but sometimes land or titles. It's not an uncommon practise...except in Nekheb."
"Wufei, attend me," said the Prince as his steward made his way to the platform, taking his place beside a servant bearing a small chest. "Inuiu, read the first name."
"User-metu, son of Hat-Hatu, come forward," called the herald in his clear voice.
Trowa watched as a man separated himself from the crowd and approached the dais, dropping to one knee and bowing deeply before the Prince. Katrah-en praised the man stonily for his help with festival preparations across the river in Nekheb and presented him with a necklace of gold about the width of his thumb. Tetiun quietly explained that this was in imitation of the Pharaoh himself who presented a much thicker collar of heavy gold coils in recognition of service. Trowa nodded slowly, eyes fixed on the Prince who seemed distracted even as he lavished attention on the men who came before him. Another two names were called before Inuiu's lips formed one that he recognized.
"Aket-Dua, son of Ba-het, come forward."
There was a moment of silence before Duo, realizing that he had not heard wrongly, stepped out of the crowd and approached the dais, casting one last questioning glance over his shoulder as he did so. Caught in the gaze, Trowa could only shrug in confusion, feeling a similar gesture from Heero who stood beside him. He could only watch as Duo approached his Prince and knelt.
"For a lifetime of service beyond your station, I thank you and reward you," said Quatre, holding out his hands to receive the gift from Wufei. He bid Duo rise and fastened the collar around his neck, grasping his head gently with both hands and kissing each cheek in turn. Though he had done the same for each recipient, it seemed to Trowa that the Prince lingered this time, whispering something into his priest's ear. When he was through, Duo stepped back, bowed, and returned to the crowd, his face blank. Trowa wanted to run after him, to demand just what the Prince had told him, but the next name gave him pause.
"Relena, daughter of Tibidia, come forward."
Hushed voices followed the young woman as she was forced to leave the safety of her husband's company and approach the dais. She did so, affecting her most regal air, although Trowa could see that she clasped her hands in front of her to keep them from trembling. At the foot of the stair, she bowed deeply until the Prince asked her to stand.
"My steward tells me that you assisted him in the marketplace and in the preparation of this feast," said Quatre matter-of-factly. "As you might know, I have no wives and no female servants of high authority. Wufei does an excellent job of overseeing the operations of the palace, but cannot organize the number of social events that a Chief Wife could manage. As a result, the palace and gardens have been closed to the people of Nekheb. If you will act as the overseer of my house, I will open the women's quarter's and Chief Wife's garden for your use in entertaining. Your acceptance will not oblige you beyond the length of your husband's assignment and Wufei will be at your disposal as the steward of my house. Do you accept?"
Relena seemed thoroughly surprised, but Trowa thought that Wufei might be smiling slightly in encouragement. "I...I would be honoured," she stammered at last and would have bowed a second time if the Prince had not gathered her right hand in his own. He received an arm band of gleaming electrum and fastened it gently to Relena's arm. "This woman is now the Mistress of my House and the overseer of entertainment," he said loudly enough for all within the hall to hear. "No authority will supersede hers but mine. Wufei will be her voice and his words are to be obeyed as if they were her own."
A cheer went up among the crowd as a blushing Relena was turned to face the people of Nekheb. Although he was surprised that a stranger could be so quickly accepted among them, Trowa admitted, if only to himself, that the people had reason for their joy. Foreign overseers were not uncommon in the palace and Relena's assignment symbolized a happier and more relaxed environment within the palace. Whether the reality would match their expectations was yet to be seen.
After a few moments of excited chatter, the Prince raised his arms a second time and silence descended upon the crowd. "Reparations will begin in the women's quarters tomorrow," he announced. "Tonight, we celebrate. My Lady, your first pronouncement."
Though flustered, Relena rallied herself admirably. "Send in the dancers!" she cried and the crowd cheered.
As the guests reorganized themselves to leave the centre of the room free of obstacles, those standing on the dais slipped into the crowd. Relena drifted back toward Heero and Trowa could see Duo making his way along the wall, but he was primarily concerned with the Prince who engaged the mayor and his wife in conversation, Wufei and Het-hori at his side. Despite his conversation, Quatre's eyes seemed to roam to a particular corner of the room and Trowa followed his gaze to see what could hold the Prince's interest.
Kamenit.
He should not have been surprised to see the man from the marketplace. A feeling of doom washed over him even as he wondered about the man's presence. Trowa had been under the impression that he was unmarried and he did not seem to have a woman with him although he could easily have been the escort of a sister or a cousin who was now chattering away with her friends. Whatever the reason for Kamenit's presence, it made Trowa uneasy. It was with great relief that he saw Duo coming toward him, apparently free to spend the evening with his friends.
The dancers, as befitting a gathering composed primarily of women, were predominately male and very well formed. Trowa quickly found his attention straying to the vaguely erotic combination of dance, gymnastics, and music being presented for his entertainment. At the end of each dance, trinkets or beads of gold were thrown to the entertainers who quickly scooped them up and secreted them in hidden pockets - a process more skillful than the dance as most of the entertainers were lightly clad.
It was then that Trowa noticed the crowd becoming involved. It began with the odd servant - or young, unmarried woman - who slipped almost unnoticed into the pattern of the dance. Most followed the steps of the female support group, but a few daring individuals matched their pace to that of the male dancers so that these found partners and became couples, separating themselves from the core dancers and creating a third faction. Trowa heard Miusheri's whisper and next he knew, she was part of the shifting pattern, her fine linen wrap becoming a veil to enhance the grace of her movements.
"Well, this little gathering seems to be a success," said Duo as he stepped between Trowa and Heero. "My congratulations to you, Relena."
"Thank you! I had hoped it would be," replied Relena. She shifted nervously from one foot to the other, but not even her anxiety could still her pride and excitement.
The priest offered her a sly smile. "As the new Mistress of the women's quarters, you should be out there, dancing."
"Oh...well...if Heero would like to."
"This is a women's feast. No one dances with their husband here."
Duo spoke truly. From the corner of his eye, Trowa could see the married women begin to move into the middle of the room. Some of the husbands flirted with the dancing girls and servants, tossing small favours or stepping briefly into the dance, but most remained near the tables, eating and drinking. Occasionally the wife of one man would meet with the husband of another and join the couples' dance and Trowa couldn't help but wonder if they were friends beyond the walls of the palace or if it was a meeting of strangers; a small romance that could easily be blamed on the night and the wine.
Relena did not seem so certain. She blushed and stammered until Duo himself stepped out of the crowd, bowed, and held his hand out to her. With a nod from Heero confirming her safety, Relena demurely accepted and allowed herself to be swept into the crowd of dancers. Trowa smiled and turned to Heero.
"You and Duo began at each others' throats, but you've since become friends, it seems. First you trust him in the market with your daughter and here you trust him with your wife."
"We talked," replied Heero. "I owe her present happiness to him. Besides, I know for a fact that he'll respect her position as my wife which makes him a trustworthy dance partner, no matter how intimate the steps. Mind you," he added with a slight smirk, "she might regret her choice. Duo is not the most - shall we say sedate? - of dancers. She'll be returned to me breathless before the music stops."
Trowa looked to where the priest led the noble-woman through a much swifter version of the dancers' steps, winding her in, out, and around the other couples. Her step was light, but hampered by her laughter. "Breathless, but smiling," he said, the scene warming his heart. "She reminds me of my sister. Chateren loves to dance."
Heero half nodded and then titled his head toward the dance floor. "Here's one for you. This is her second time around and she's been trying to catch your eye."
Trowa turned and met Miusheri's eyes. As his attention focused on her, she smiled. Though her dance was no different than that of the women around her, Trowa noticed for the first time that her eyes always sought him out. "Oh...oh no," he stammered. "I can't, Heero. I don't...she's not..."
"Not the kind to hold your interest? So? She's a body servant; she doesn't expect to marry a prince," said Heero, clearly amused. "All she wants is to dance with one so why not give her a little thrill?"
Before he could protest further, Trowa felt himself pushed forward and stumbled out of the crowd. Laughing, Miusheri caught his arm and turned his awkward approach into a graceful step and turn. Patiently, she taught him the correct motions and they took their place among the couples, the tension between the Prince and Kamenit temporarily forgotten. Determined to prove himself worthy of selection, Trowa turned all of his attention toward the dance and his partner. It was not until the first cries of alarm that he took any notice of the world around him.
"What is it?" he whispered as he slowed to a stop. Miusheri was trembling.
"Oh, Ra and all your children," she breathed. "He's collapsed." Trowa felt his chest tighten. "Who's collapsed?"
"Duo."
Grasping her shoulders tightly enough to draw her attention, Trowa forced Miusheri to face him. "Go back to Tetiun and Seb. They'll look after you," he commanded, and rushed past her to where a number of people were jostling one another for a better view. From the centre of the gathering, Trowa could hear Relena's high-pitched and nearly hysterical cries.
"Get away from him! Get away right now! Can't you see that he can't breathe?" she shouted as Trowa pushed his way through the gathering, unmindful of those he might offend. A number of people turned to him angrily, but quickly checked their tempers. He was a prince, after all.
Contrary to Relena's protests, Duo was still breathing, but air entered his lungs in great whooping breaths. He clutched at his chest, his face pale and sheathed in sweat, as he tried to stand, but stumbled and fell back down to his knees. He leaned unconsciously against Relena who stood over him, snarling like a lioness over her cubs. For a moment, Trowa froze, stunned, and then he lunged forward, hauling the priest to his feet, and pushed his way back through the crowd toward the exit. From the arm around his neck to the legs that could barely support his weight, Duo's body trembled in a spasm of fear and pain.They were nearly to the door before the priest seemed to regain some of his strength and fought back. "Let me go," he grunted, trying to pull out of Trowa's hold.
"No. I'll get you back to your quarters," said Trowa. A faint fear chilled his heart, but he did not let it colour his voice.
"Please...let me go. I don't want to leave like this." The sweat that had caused his make-up to run, now made the priest shiver as it dried on his skin. "Let me walk out of here," he whispered. "Please."
Trowa sighed. It was arrogant pride, but sometimes pride was all that one had left. He let Duo go. "Fine. Leave quickly. I'll try to distract the well-wishers."
Duo nodded once. "Tell Relena I'm sorry," he said and stumbled from the room.
Trowa tried to calmly convince the crowd that everything was alright and that the priest was merely suffering from fatigue, but did not think he was very successful. From across the room, he saw the Prince's poisonous stare aimed at the doorway. Whatever attack Duo had suffered, it had not been part of the evening's plans. He thought of following the priest and issuing a warning, but the guards would not let him out of the hall without his escort and, really, he was quite certain that Duo was aware of the Prince's displeasure. He would send Wufei or Heero to check on the priest instead. It was all he could do for the moment.
Refilling his wine glass, Trowa fixed one eye on the Prince and one on the door as he sought out Relena and Miusheri to offer his reassurance and apologies.
Duo stumbled through the hallways in a semi-stupor, one trembling hand sliding along the wall for support. Conflicting thoughts were given physical presence as they seemed to scream at him from within his skull. On the one hand was Quatre, angry that he should have left his post. On the other was Heero, condemning his duty. Between them, oddly enough, was Trowa, telling him to rest. To forget the Prince, and the city, and the priesthood, and sleep until he could think clearly again. It was a thought that was almost wondrous in its simplicity.
But he couldn't stop yet. He didn't dare.
He needed to reach his chambers and his medicine so that he could return to the party and fulfill his promise to Quatre. Curse his luck that he hadn't thought to bring it with him. His intention had been to poison Kamenit in such a way that death would come after the celebration was over. Away from the palace, perhaps in the street, no one would think twice of a death due to illness...and if someone did, there would be no proof.
Now he would have to alter his plans. Even if he did manage to still the trembling of his limbs and rejoin Relena's feast, all eyes would be on him. Well-wishers would continually ask if he was alright and those that thought his exit suspicious would follow him around like an entourage. The trick could still be managed, but would require a greater degree of caution...provided he could reach his chamber and recover before the guests were ushered into the garden. If he was forced to track down Kamenit after he left the palace, the man's death would be more painful and far messier.
Distracted by his needs and fears, Duo's fevered mind did not detect the sound of footsteps in the hallway of the guest wing. Turning the corner and finding himself face to face with another set of eyes startled him badly enough to cry out and scramble backward. With the loss of the wall as his main support, his trembling legs gave way and he fell once again to his knees, uttering a sob of frustration.
The sound of an infant crying did not cut through the fog of his brain more clearly than the single, whispered word. "Duo?"
He cursed himself and tried to slink away, pulling himself to his feet long enough to stumble back a few steps before his legs began to weaken and he was forced to lean against the wall for support. Bad enough that he had collapsed in the hall before the guests, but now he was trapped in a moment of weakness before the one person in whose eyes he would have preferred to remain a figure of power and mystery. "Hilde," he whispered, "I'm sorry."
If she spoke again, he did not hear. The light in the hallway was too bright. He closed his eyes against it. A soft hand touched his cheek, the world grew heavy around him, and the darkness spun away into infinity.
When he opened his eyes again, the light seemed softer, but his body ached terribly. He could not quite place his surroundings. A light sheet clung to his sweat-soaked skin, but he was clothed beneath it. A moment of panic seized his heart when he realized that his jewellery had been removed, but a simple turning of the head revealed it, piled neatly on the floor beside his pallet. He thought, for a moment, that he was in the Prince's chamber and had been put to bed by Het-hori after a bad session, but the room was too small and plain, and the scent of perfume too light and feminine.
Sighing, he closed his eyes and tried to get his bearings. He heard movement to his left and felt his body tense in preparation for an attack, but he was too exhausted to rise and defend himself. He did not even open his eyes again until the cool cloth touched his face and he looked up into dark eyes. "Hilde," he said, his voice raw.
"Shhh. Be quiet and rest. Do you want to scare me all over again?"
"Where..."
"Lady Relena's quarters," said Hilde quietly. "I wouldn't presume to put you on her couch so you are using my palette. I found you while taking Bakara out for a walk. Fortunately for you, Heero prefers to have his daughter and her nursemaid accompanied by guards when walking alone in the palace of a strange city. I had Pa-neb carry you back. Are you thirsty?"
Duo nodded and struggled to sit up. He was mortified to find that he needed Hilde's support to do so, but she seemed to think nothing of it, holding a bowl of water to his lips. He tried to take it from her, but his hands were shaking too badly and he allowed her to feed the liquid to him, eyes downcast, trembling hands wrapped around her own. They seemed so small and delicate, but at the moment, Duo knew, they held a greater strength than his own.
The water soothed his dry throat and Duo drank deeply. "How long since you found me," he asked when Hilde took the bowl away.
"Two...maybe three hours," she said, a faint look of disgust crossing her features. "Why do you ask this? You're too weak to leave now. I've asked Khemti-nub to bring bread and beer..."
"Three hours?" Duo threw back the sheet and climbed clumsily to his feet, trying to find his sandals and straighten his kilt all at once. He could feel his limbs turning to water even as he willed them to stay strong, but the adrenaline of fear kept him from falling. "I can't stay, Hilde. I'm sorry. I'm very grateful, but I can't stay."
"Can't stay?"
"I have a duty to the Prince. I have...I have to go," stammered Duo. A million thoughts vied for his attention, but he shut them all away, concentrating only on the need to deal with Kamenit tonight. Quatre would be angry if he didn't. Quatre might send him away. Everything would fall apart if he went away now.
"A duty to the Prince?" Where another woman's voice might have become tearful, Hilde's hardened. Lost in his own determination, Duo did not hear its edge.
"Yes. I was asked to...to...perform one of my duties tonight," he said, mindlessly gathering his jewellery. "If I fail, he'll be angry." "If you succeed, he'll be angry. If you ignore him altogether, he'll be angry," said Hilde fiercely. "Your Prince is always angry. Will an hour make so great a difference?"
"He...he isn't always," Duo insisted. "No matter what anyone else thinks, he is my friend. You don't know how he can be when he thinks no one is watching..."
A stinging slap struck him across the cheek and Duo froze, stunned.
"Am I your friend now, too?" said Hilde, her voice low and threatening. "Or would you prefer it if I drew blood?"
Too shocked to react, Duo could not prevent her from grasping his arm and lifting it before his own eyes. For the first time, he noticed that more than his jewellery had been removed. His skin, scabbed where the ropes had last bitten into it, looked raw and red in the light of the chamber. His throat went dry. "That's a normal part of the ritual," he said hoarsely.
"And how often does he make you perform it?" snapped Hilde in return. "Don't think I am completely naive, Duo. I may not stray far from Lord Heero's estate, but I did come from the capital, and from the poorer districts at that, before I was employed. [44] I know that this ritual of yours is uncommon and dangerous." Her eyes filled with tears though her jaw remained set. She did not look away. "Why do you have to be so kind to everyone? Why are you so easy to like? I want to hate you as much as I did the first time I saw you. I have always hated your kind. So perfectly composed and perfectly made-up, you look like the living statues of model priests, complete with eyes of cold glass. Until one of you goes mad with use of herbs and venoms and dies in the streets, frothing at the mouth like a mad dog. Do you think I want to see that fate in you?"
Duo lowered his eyes, ashamed. "Hilde, I..."
"Don't tell me it will never happen! It wasn't wine that caused you to fall out there."
For a moment, the anger in Hilde's eyes intensified and Duo thought that she would try to slap him again. Instead, her features softened and she hugged herself. "Don't tell me it will never happen," she said quietly, "but don't pretend that you'll stop either. I'm beginning to know you. You are so unlike the other priests. If you have a duty, I understand...but I repeat: will an hour make a great difference? Would it be so terrible to take a little food and rest?"
The sudden cry of an infant interrupted her. Hilde quickly composed herself and lifted Bakara from the basket where she had been sleeping. "See, now? You made me angry and I woke her up."
"I'm sorry," said Duo again. "I'm sorry for disturbing both of you. It would have been better if you'd never met me."
"Don't say that." Hilde fixed him with her stare, bouncing Bakara lightly in her arms. "Will you stay for another hour?"
Duo lowered his eyes. It would be safer and easier if he simply pushed her away, took his medicine, and returned to the feast...if it was not already too late. And yet, at the same time, he didn't want to leave her or the quiet of the chamber. "It will complicate things if I stay, but I will if you ask me to. You know, I..."
"Shh...be quiet," whispered Hilde. "Sit now. Hold Bakara in your lap while I find a table. A little food will be good for you. You can do your...your duties...when you've finished."
Duo obeyed. He feared for a moment that he might drop the infant, but as long as she was seated in his lap, he found he was able to bear her weight. "I'll need my medicine," he said, ashamed, "and...and other things. If I wait, I'll need to perform a ritual."
Hilde stiffened slightly. Duo feared she might protest, but she merely nodded. "Give directions to Khemti-nub when she arrives. She'll get you anything you need...as long as you need it. Take care of yourself, Duo."
Duo watched her as she stepped out of the room, then held Bakara close, burying his face in her sweet scented curls as his eyes filled with tears. "Once more together, you and I," he whispered to the darkness.
Trowa walked along the garden wall, eyes and ears alert.
Guards were spaced out quite evenly around the garden, but with the number of merry makers and drunken fools they had to contend with, Trowa felt certain of his chances of escape. He was worried about Duo and wanted to know what had happened to the priest after he had left the gathering. Heero had sent Seb to check on him, but his apartment had been empty with no trace of Duo having been there. Trowa thought that he might be able to find the priest, but to do so, he would need to travel without his ever-present guards. With all the drunken guests to contend with, he thought it would be easy to elude them, but leaving the garden meant landing himself outside of the palace. Getting back in without being spotted would be quite another matter.
He cursed himself - not the first time -for not having exercised more caution so soon after his arrival in Nekheb. If he had not tried to follow Duo into the Prince's wing of the palace, he might have had more freedom.
The subtle shifting of a shadow caught his eye. He focused on it for some time, certain that it was nothing more than a stray breeze ruffling the tops of the garden trees, but nothing else around it moved. It crept along the top of the wall, using the trees as a shield and disappearing into the pools of darkness where the torches could not reach.
Duo.
Realizing that his interest would give the priest away, Trowa shifted his attention to the garden's landscaping and made his way to a more sheltered area where he could observe the mysterious silhouette in peace. It seemed to be focused on one particular area of the garden: a brightly lit court where a set of double doors emptied onto the main avenue of the palace complex where litter-bearers waited to bring drunken guests home - or to an alternate destination of their choice.
"He's waiting for Kamenit."
Though barely audible, his own words startled him into sharper awareness. They carried a dark and terrible truth. Trowa knew that he should leave it alone, but the drama fascinated him as much as it horrified him. He would see it through to its end.
It was by chance only that Kamenit had not left the garden. The feast had been marred by an underlying tension between the Prince and the man he despised. Quatre had spend the better part of the evening sourly watching Kamenit as he drifted from friend to friend and eventually arranged for a littler to bring his lady friend - his younger sister, Trowa later learned - home for the evening while he shared the company of one of the female dancers. The Prince, disgusted, had left.
Now Kamenit was preparing to leave as well, talking drunkenly with a number of his friend in the light of the entrance way. The shadow above him watched in anticipation. Trowa was determined to see the drama out to its end. Keeping a careful eye on Kamenit, he sought out Tetiun whom he had left with Seb.
"I think I know where to find Duo," he told his servant, "but I have to get out of the garden. I'll need a distraction."
The young man paled. "Oh, no, Master...please don't do anything that will cause us harm!"
"No harm to you," Trowa assured him, "and to me only if I'm caught. But you won't allow that, will you?"
"Master..."
"I'll go one way or the other and this way's the easiest. I order you to do it. You can't be held responsible for your master's orders."
Tetiun sighed. "I wish you wouldn't."
Trowa offered him his most sympathetic smile. "There is something odd about Nekheb and I want to see what it is, even if that means risking a little reprimand. If I'm caught, what will they do? Double my guard? It's the least of my worries."
"Yes, Master. What do you need?"
"I need you to wait until one or more of those people near the door leave the garden," said Trowa. "Shortly after they do, I want you to approach the guards at the gate and tell them I'm missing."
"But isn't that man..."
"Kamenit? Yes, but that's all I mean to tell you."
Tetiun bowed. "If that is your wish. Will you tell me all once you return?"
"If I return safely. I have to go now. There are some things I need before I go."
"Then I will go and get you some food. All the better reason to notice your absence."
Clever from top to bottom, thought Trowa and quickly dismissed the notion. There was a time and place for everything.
Fortunately, for most of the guests, the time and the place was right. With so many articles of discarded clothing laying about the garden, it was easy for Trowa to pick up a wig, a shirt, and a long wrap, even in the shadows to which he had retreated. They would never serve as a disguise in the light, but in the darkness, they would change his silhouette just enough to ease suspicions. He donned the wig and shirt, tucking the wrap into his belt, and hid in the shadows. When Kamnenit had left, and the court was clear, Tetiun approached the guards.
Trowa bit his lip to stifle a laugh as the men tried not to panic. He was a very important visitor, after all, and a foreigner as well. If word reached the Prince that he was missing, there was no telling what kind of punishment would await them. As hoped, the guards assumed that he had slipped out with Kamenit's crowd of visitors and called some of the men from the wall. They would no doubt begin a patrol of the garden very soon, but first they would want to make sure he had not gotten very far beyond the doors.
Searching for a breach in the defenses around the garden walls, Trowa walked briskly through the shadows toward a towering fruit tree. In the darkness, his wig and blousy shirt would not be questioned. He shimmied up the tree, hiding himself in the branches where the tree met the wall, and, after being certain that there were no guards waiting for him along the avenue, hooked the wrap around a branch and lowered himself as close to the paving as he could. The short drop jarred his bones, but he quickly recovered. However, the wrap was now out of reach. He would have to find another way back into the palace.
Trowa decided not to worry about that for the moment. Instead, he quickly crossed the avenue and hit between two smaller structures - the houses of artisans, perhaps? - where he discarded his wig and shirt. If anyone had seen him leave, they would be as damning as his own appearance. More so, for a disguise was evidence of subterfuge. Now he was ready to find Duo.
Keeping to the shadows, Trowa made his way around the palace to where the garden emptied out onto the street. He saw no sign of the priest, but could hear Kamenit's party as they headed for the gate of the palace complex. Unlike the palace itself, this wall and gate were not heavily guarded. Because of the large number of people attending and leaving the feast, two of the Prince's Saracen men watched the entrance, but the wall's true purpose was to divide the richest residents from the rest of Nekheb. Risking the reputation of a thief, Trowa scaled it quickly and climbed down the other side while the guards bid Kamenit's party good night.
There was no sign of Duo, but Trowa had no doubts that the priest was following the group closely. Drunk on wine, they spoke loudly and did not hear his footsteps. Presently, one of them decided that beer was the answer to their troubles and suggested a lodging house near the complex. Kamenit refused.
"Darmutef is afraid of his own shadow. He's banned me for treasonous talk. He fears that word will reach Katrah-en and he will be held responsible for allowing such conversation in his establishment." Kamenit took a swig from a jug of what could only be wine. Draining it, he threw the clay pot against a wall where it smashed. "I should go home and be sure that Shusheru has arrived safely."
Another seemed to feel the same way for when the group parted ways, another joined Kamenit as he headed northward while the rest turned toward the lodging house. Trowa followed them at a safe distance until Kameit's friend left him and disappeared down a back lane. Kamenit continued toward one of the garden estates, oblivious to Trowa's presence.
He was worse than an animal in the wilderness. He would not have sensed the least of the Teresh hunters until they were on top of him. Trowa fought down a feeling of smug pride moments before a shadow - one that he himself had not noticed - dropped from the night sky, and wrapped a crushing arm around Kamenit's throat. The movement was so sudden that Trowa nearly cried out, but he reminded himself that he was not supposed to be there and managed to remain silent. He could not hear everything that was being said, but he was close enough that certain words drifted his way.
Kamenit seemed to be stammering and struggling while the shade - unmistakable with its long braid - growled instructions in his ear. "...warned you," whispered the night wind. "I warned you, Kamenit. Be thankful this is all you get."
"Please..." gasped Kamenit as the arm was removed from his neck and lowered to his chest. Further protests were lost as the blade of a knife was pressed against his throat.
"You are condemned by the left-hand of the Prince," said Duo without emotion.
The blade flashed in the moonlight and Kamenit's blood soaked the front of his shirt. Duo let the body drop and rolled onto its back where it lay spread-eagle on the the street. Then, with utmost concentration, he began to wound it: torso, head, hands, and feet. Trowa watched with a horrible fascination. He knew there must be a significance, but he could not fathom what it would be.
As though reading his mind, Duo stepped back from his task and raised his voice. "It's to mark him as an official execution," said the priest in the same dead voice. He casually wiped his knife on his kilt. "The mazoi won't bother looking for the murder. It will save time and money."
Trowa covered his mouth to prevent a gasp when, for a moment, Duo looked straight at him. "Did you think you hadn't been noticed? If I were a murderer, I'd have to kill you for what you've seen, but no one will doubt who was responsible for this."
Knife drawn, Duo stalked toward his hiding place, stopping just short of the concealing shadows. Trowa could picture his manic grin. "What do you think of me now? Are you afraid of me? Do you hate me? Why do you follow me? Are you satisfied? Don't answer," he said and Trowa realized that he had involuntarily opened his mouth to speak. "Go back to the palace, Trowa. Abdul is waiting for you just outside the complex gate. You wanted to go for a walk, that's all."
The note of finality in Duo's voice told Trowa that it was all. If he returned with Abdul, he wouldn't be questioned, but if he questioned Duo tomorrow, he'd receive no answer. Kamenit might have existed, there would be talk about him, but he had not been a part of their lives. That was all.
The night was suddenly much darker. Things stalked the streets of Nekheb. Trowa said nothing, but withdrew silently even as Duo sheathed his knife and turned away. He met Abdul just outside the gates, as promised. He returned to the palace and told his story. He returned to the garden. Tetiun was there.
"I'll tell you tomorrow," said Trowa heavily, sitting down to watch the guests laughing and playing in the ornamental pond. "For now, bring me wine."
[44] The city of Pi-Ramesses is built on or about the site of two previous cities - Tanis and Avaris - each of these having been the capital in an eariler era when Egypt was ruled by "foreign" monarchs. For political as well as aesthetic reasons, the region's largest temple (dedicated to Set, for those who weren't following) was left outside the city walls during the planning of Pi-Ramesses though it received an expensive overhaul and upgrade. Residents who couldn't afford the luxury of living within the safety of the city walls built their dwellings just along the parametre. As the only official structure outside of the city walls, the temple district would have been the residential area of the highest of the poorest class, including Hilde's family.
"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.