And His Name Is Dennitza. Daughter of Dawn. Natalie Yacobson
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raised a hand to his forehead, wanting to touch the scar. That voice still sounded in his memory, belonging to no one but heaven. At the fateful moment, the young man did not see a single material being that could protect him. So maybe it just seemed to him?
There were unusually few people in the palace, but all those gathered looked with curiosity, and often with barely concealed envy. After all, he returned alive and victorious.
Everything was conceived differently. He, young and naive, was sent where he should not have come back. He would become the first victim in the struggle against a people hitherto unknown to anyone, and famous for their superhuman cruelty and strength. Therefore, the main commander of the pharaoh remained in the palace, other no less honorable commanders were left in reserve, and the youngest in rank and least born young man went to fight the demons. There was no other way to name them. Although they consisted of flesh and blood, there was so much superhuman strength and tenacity in them.
He had an involuntary respect for his enemies. It was not possible to take a single warrior alive, but he took many old men and women into the full. And he already knew what he would ask Pharaoh. Today was his day. He had the right to turn to the king with any request.
But his soul was still trembling. Will Pharaoh fulfill such a grandiose desire that has matured in him. Both morally and materially it might not be feasible, but he was going to try anyway. His request is pure. It comes from the heart. The gods must give him a chance.
«Your gods are idols…»
And again this haunting voice. A voice from heaven, as he used to call it. It’s good that no one heard this voice except him. Taor knew that for sure. Lying in a military tent after the victory, he repeatedly asked if his subordinates heard someone’s words, as if uttered from nothing, but each time they shook their heads in bewilderment. Once he asked an old woman about this, trudging along the road, she even got scared, mistaking the young man for a madman. And this is even despite the fact that he was wearing the armor of the king’s commander.
It’s good that no one else hears this voice. For the words spoken by him, the priests could punish a person with death. Pharaoh would agree with them. After all, he is also a god, an earthly and mortal god, as is customary to worship in Egypt.
Taor respected the laws of the country in which he lived, although now he was going to break them a little. The heavenly voice did not object to this, but he completely left the young man as soon as he entered the ceremonial hall.
The most honored guests gathered there, also in small numbers. It seemed that there were more guards with halberds than peaceful nobility.
The hall was solemnly decorated. The road to the throne where Pharaoh sat is free. He was to be honored today, but Taor was not used to such honors. He was embarrassed to go to the palace in a rich chariot presented to him, and all the more unpleasant to accept other royal gifts. All this seemed somehow undeserved, as if by accident, only because he suddenly had an invisible heavenly patron.
Fanfare, lotus petals that strewn the road, the cries of the celebrating crowd below under the windows… Everything is like in a dream.
You must remember that you have many enemies here who sent you to certain death, someone invisibly admonished him at the entrance to the hall. But here he was alone.
Taor brushed a lock of jet-black hair from his damp forehead. He was considered very handsome, and so what? He still didn’t even have his own harem. The funds did not allow. So he can ask that Pharaoh allow him to keep some of the conquered treasures? No. He had already decided to turn to him with another request. There can be only one petition.
«Get up!» Pharaoh ordered not to prostrate when Taor was already down on his knees. Strange, but the usual ceremonial today was broken in many ways. Is it in honor of the victory? Or a lot had changed at court while he was away. Pharaoh himself also changed. It’s scary to think, but he looked more like an inanimate statue on a throne. Someone seemed to bend over to him and whispered something in his ear, but there was no one behind the throne dais today, even slaves with fans were driven to the bottom.
«You proved yourself gloriously. A great warrior deserves a lot. I appoint you as the chief commander over all my troops, and over all other commanders».
Taor did not expect. Too many accolades. Too much envy, an almost palpable wave soaring over the hall. He was eaten with angry looks. The courtier, who did not have time to read the pharaoh’s decree to his own words, nervously bit his lips, the chancellor was clearly displeased, the chief adviser diligently averted his eyes. He and Taor had long-standing scores.
Only the one in whose place Taor had been appointed stood sullenly aside. Taor found him with his eyes. Now the former military leader was preoccupied with something of his own, and not with the speeches of the pharaoh. He carefully hid his hand under his clothes. At first, Taor even thought that it was cut off, like a thief. But no, it seems the hand is completely dry. Strange, this usually happens from birth. Taor has seen many different injuries and epidemics on the battlefields, but he has never seen anything like this. The hand seemed to have been burned, but the motionless bone remained and festered. If it had occurred to someone to mummify only one hand on the body of a living person, he would have received such a result. Ujai was unrecognizable. Taor remembered him as brave and cocky, proudly throwing a challenge straight into the face of enemies and rivals, and now this haunted look, reddened eyes… What happened to him? What happened to everyone here at all? No one whispered, no gossip, no one seemed to be interested in anything. Taor felt like a stranger, not privy to the course of events. In fact, it was so, because he was absent for a very long time. But not long enough for people to suddenly become different… they behaved differently than before. The same inhabitants of Egypt, the same noble people at court, not counting the many dignitaries whom the pharaoh chose not from the nobility. He himself was now among them. Taor knew he should be grateful. In the old days he would not have been allowed to become so famous, now everything has changed. But what if these changes are not for the better?
Taor bit his lip bloody. Now the moment has come when he should express his main request. Several pairs of expectant eyes immediately gazed at him. He had long been indebted to these people for his promotion, but he did not want to think now about what was in their favor. He would repay them with something else later, and now he was going to ask not for himself, but for the whole province. Now the conquered lands have become a province of Egypt, so rich and fertile that it is unlikely that all the gold captured would have been enough to redeem it. The benefit didn’t matter. He just wanted all the prisoners to be released.
If everything depended on him, then he would have done it already, but it will not be he who will decide, but a man like God, sitting on the throne. Everyone here felt involuntary respect for the symbols of royal power in his hands, his name, his uraeus. As he decides, so it will be done immediately.
There was no queen on the throne next to the pharaoh. Her absence, however, was not striking, because the ivory chair was removed for her, as if she was not expected at all. Pharaoh decided to be alone. Or did it just seem so? Someone was bending over him, someone, as if made of marble and gold. At first Taor could not see it. It was like the sun was shining in his eyes, and it hurt his vision… but then he noticed a graceful head, and the way luxurious black wings flapped over it. Marble hands slid over the pharaoh’s shoulders like snakes, beautiful lips bent to his ear to whisper something. It seemed that fire would burst from those lips, not breath. The golden creature suddenly looked directly at Taor, and, gods, how beautiful it was.
Pharaoh waited for his words, but he forgot what he was going to ask for. The lips did not move. This is probably how a person who is turned into a statue feels: you want to talk, but you can’t. And yet he braced himself. The future of an entire people depends on him: they will be turned into slavery or released. He must be strong. Taor spoke.
«I would not dare to ask for anything for myself, and yet I have one desire. May the bloody war end in peace, may the lands devastated by the battle remain independent, and may all prisoners be