Yea.. I've been writing, posted it at two other forums and thought you might enjoy it too. Without further ado, except to say that it isn't nearly finished, I present you: Tales of the desert, weighting over 4000 words.
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The smell of salt water, the sound of the deep blue sea washing ashore, how he’d longed for it. It seemed years ago since he left Rasetra on his journey northwest, but in fact, it had been only 8 months. He thought back at banquet, the gifts, the tokens of friendship and words of appreciation and honour. The meeting with the nobility in Rasetra had brought friendship and renewed bonds. Yes, it had proven to be a wise decision of both him and king Karnash.
Finally the king of Zandri had returned to his beloved city. King Sekhtep could see the royal palace, the many temples and of course the royal tombs sticking out above the thick walls. He could see his subjects waving, banners being raised, the guards opening the door. He saw his army in all his splendour moving in perfect order out of the city, the palace guard taking the lead in the marching, the royal banner holding aloft by his general Dukash. Legions of lesser warriors came next, taking pride in holding their banners high whilst presenting their spears, swords and bows. The galloping of strong steeds thundered across the fertile grass on the bench of the river Vitae. Rank upon rank of horsemen and chariots took their place in the battle line. Horns shattered and the king was filled with pride. There aren’t that many kings, Sekhtep thought, that are so beloved. By now he could see his mighty fleet from his own chariot. The docks where probably filled with luxury goods, shipped in from barbarian lands.
A group of chariots detached itself from the battle line to meet the king and his small warband, formed with the soldiers of his royal guard. He had picked them out himself and they hadn’t let him down, defeating desert raiders although being outnumbered.
Dukash stepped out of his place in the front rank of the palace guard and signed for a chariot to give him a ride. Shining in the morning a chariot appeared and, although hard to see, it appeared to be a royal chariot. Other chariots came next to it and together they turned to meet the king. With each second that past, the sounds of the wooden chariots were better to hear. Sekhtep could now identify the chariots as being pulled by royal steeds, but blinded by the rays of the Ptra and the golden weapons, he couldn’t discover who the men, except for his general, were, riding on the chariot holding their weapons loosely, yet prepared for anything.
As the chariots stopped and the men got out, Sekhtep could see his army dropping down on one knee and bowing their heads.
- “Greetings, Lord of Zandri”, general Dakush, dropping on the ground, said: “Mighty Crocodile of the river Vitae, ruler of …”
-“That’s enough, old friend. Your words honour me to much. Stand up and accompany me back to the city, but promise me that you bring a full report of the negotiations with the dwellers.”
-“I promise Sovereign of the Sea.” Slowly he rose from the ground: “Yet we must not go at once, there are more equal men here.”
-“Equal? Who can be more equal, than my commander and loyal friend?”
-“Your priests for once, the old Nephren-Ka, high priest of Ptra and leader of the council of the many temples, has came to meet you and discuss the signs of the gods.”
-“So he is here, but yet I do not see him, my eyes, as well as my mind, must be tired from the long journey”
-“That must be it my Lord. It isn’t strange that you don’t see him as you are used to. When you were away, his steed died, bitten by cobra whilst grazing. I..”
Very slowly a man, wearing deep red clothes, stepped from the platform of the chariot. With slow steps he came near, the golden amulets around his neck becoming slowly visible. Leaning on his staff, he said with a cracking voice:
-“Silence general and you, my lord, I see Ptra has watched over you, may he do the same for many more years to come.”
-“Indeed he did, may he do the same for you as well.”
-“Forgive me, Great Scorpion of the Vitae Delta, whose claws shall forever protect our city and its inhabitants with righteous fury, that I do not bow before you as age is stiffening my legs, making my muscles weak.”
-“You are forgiven, my Prophet. Are the signs for the coming season of good nature?”
-“The gods are pleased with your reign; you bring them the honour they deserve.”
-“I’m glad to hear that. Is everything all right with you? You seem as pale as sun of the night.”
-“If your Highness doesn’t mind me saying, how, by the holy light of Ptra, can one even enjoy riding on a chariot?”
-“That’s easy.” a third, high, voice said whilst a small figure stepped of the same chariot as Nephren-Ka had been on: “You just can’t deal with the cold winds of Khsar, not only that, but you should be glad that you were riding with me and not with the general.”
Dakush put his scimitar back behind his back and, grabbing the small figure firmly with both hands, raised him with easy from the ground.
-“And what is supposed to mean my Prince? Was it not me, who taught you how to ride a chariot in the absence of your father? Was it not me, who had patience every time you fell off? And was it not me, to whom you lost 5 suns ago?”
-“But you cheated!”
-“I cheated? You should be honoured that you learned how to ride a chariot from the best, if the king allows me say it. I haven’t cheated and the gods are my witnesses.”
-“You did cheat!” The prince said, kicking the air around him: “Put me down! Father, help me!”
Laughing, Sekhtep stepped forward and pointed a finger at his son.
-“Young Badesh, I see you’ve grown in my absence, but your words can’t disguise your inner being. You should be honoured indeed that you’d been taught by Dakush, for he is the best charioteer of whole Nehekhara.”
-“Your words honour me too much my King.” And slowly Dakush put the young prince back on his feet.
-“Father, I’m glad you’re back” And before Sekhtep could respond, the cracking voice of Nephren-Ka cut through the air, like the claws of the desert carrion rip through the remains of cattle.
-“Prince Badesh, how many times do I have to tell you to greet your father with the appropriate words? We spend many nights together, but I fear that it was all in vain.”
-“I’m sorry Nephren-Ka, highest priest in Zandri, that I forgot your lessons, but they weren’t in vain, you’ll see prove of it tonight when we feast and celebrate the return of my beloved father!”
-“Well spoken young prince, that is worth of a heir to the thrown. Yet we all know that you’re brave, just like your father is, but your heart speaks in actions and not your mind. Try to focus on that, and you’ll be a suitable prince, worthy of taken the throne after your father’s demise, which, if the gods want so, may take decades.”
-“Enough, I’m tired of my journey. Let us go to Zandri, so that I can rest in preparation of the feast.” And with those words, he stepped on the chariot. “Badesh, my son, show your father what you can do.”
-“Yes father, I will.” Stepping on the platform, he looked at the old priest and said: “Would you like to join us Prophet of the Sun to whom Ptra speaks?”
Looking around Nephren-Ka replied: “I thank you for your offer my prince, but I rather ride something.. less.. how shall I put it? Besides, the king doesn’t want to be delayed by an old man. No, go and ride like the desert wind towards the city. I can always ride with the general, can’t I?”
-“Of course you can. It would be my honour and also that of my men.” The deep voice of the general answered.
-“All right, let’s go father. As fast as the mighty Khsar we go. Heeyaa!” The chariot slowly picked up speed and when the chariot passed the legions of warrior, the king rose his sword as a sign that the soldiers could get back again. Seconds later the chariot suddenly bumped up in the air.
Seeing this and laughing, Nephren-Ka addressed the general: “I don’t envy our king and his ride, I’m just glad that I can ride with a more experienced charioteer.”
-“Indeed you are, indeed you are.” Dakush attempted to say, but his words got stuck in his laughter.
Helping the priest aboard, Dakush instructed the charioteer “And watch out for the bumps, drive slowly, we’ve got an honourable guest aboard.” The charioteer nodded and slowly put the steeds in action. The cracking of the wood meant the chariot was picking up speed and gradually the chariot rode towards the walls of Zandri.
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Music made by harps and flutes filled the air in the fire lit room. The feast was in full progress as entertainers from the whole land and even some distant lands were performing tricks or playing music. Some servants brought the food in put it down on the large, black, wooden table before returning back to the royal kitchen to bring the next course in, whilst other servant were holding heavy torches high around the table, making the darkness disappear. The walls of the room were as smooth as water untroubled by the wind and they were painted with all sorts of depictions, ranging from the noble deeds of the ancestors to the tales of the gods.
The whole Zandrian nobility and priesthood was present and even the masters of the many docks were there. Although not actual nobility, the masters were very important to the kingdoms economics and thus they were a powerful faction, almost equal to the lesser nobility.
The table was in a u-form, the nobility and dock masters sat at one side, all clothed in the latest and most expensive fashion to try and look more important than the others, whilst the other side saw the priests in their traditional robes with the staffs and sacrificial knifes. Their amulets, as well as the colour of the robes, made it easy for all to see which god they were priest of. The link between the two sides was on a higher platform where the king, his wife, his son, the general and Nephren-Ka sat. In the middle of deep blue clothes and golden armour, or ornaments of the queen, there was the black robe with green and blue symbols of Sekhtep. It was obvious that they held the most power as all of them were by far the best dressed of the whole feast, even for the tutor of Badesh, who preferred wearing the traditional robes of leader of the council of the many temples instead of the clothes the king’s advisors may wear.
-“Yes, young Badesh, you put the deeds to the words. You’re truly behaving yourself.”
-“Thanks, my tutor, but this is all due to the lessons you taught.”
With a lot of noise a black clad man and some servants entered the room through the opening in the wall. His hear was dark and his eyes had a piercing look. It was obvious that he was a powerful man and a skilled soldier as he easily pushed the servants, who tried to stop him, aside. As the king saw this man enter uninvited, he rose from his seat and grabbed his scimitar. Looking at the stranger, he opened his mouth, his voice louder than the laughing of the guests.
-“Who are you stranger and how dare you disturb us?”
The man pushed another slave to the wall knocking him unconsciously.
-“So you must be the king here..”
-“Silence! Guar..”
-“No need for guards, I’m a friend and I’m here because I got sent here by my master.”
Silent as a desert-lion, Dakush had left the table and was behind the stranger, his sword pointing at the back of the stranger.
-“Show proper respect to the king, or you won’t live to see Ptra’s light again.”
-“Is this the way kings of Zandri greet nobility from another place?”
-“Don’t try to trick me and where are your servants, oh royal one? Where is your royal guard?”
-“Only a weakling needs servants, only a desert-rat needs guards.”
-“Enough, pay proper respect now or I wi…”
Within a second the foreigner had managed to draw his sword and stood face to face with the Zandrian general. Eyes met other eyes and both could see a faint glimpse of great martial prowess. The silence, the nobility and priests were watching the two men with open mouths yet wordless, was torn to pieces, like a ship embedding him self into rocky reefs, by the voice of the king.
-“Enough!”
-“But my King, I onl..”
-“I said enough, lay down your sword, you too stranger. I don’t want a bloodbath on the day I return.”
Dakush let out a sigh. “Yes, my King," he said with his face to the ground as he put his sword down: "your wish is my command.” .
-“Now “, Sekhtep addressed the stranger: “What is your name and speak of the reason you’re here!”
The Stranger lifted his head and looked the ruler of Zandri straight into his eyes, not showing any respect.
-“I am Memekh, prince of the desert, and why I came here? Is that not obvious? My master sent me to this supposed great city.”
Diverting his eyes, he slowly walked to one of the tables and reached for some grapes.
Then he turned his back upon his king but spoke to him, showing his disrespect while at the same time the guests whispered about his behaviour.
-“All I can see is a city, a city with false gods, a city where every word adds to the total blasphemy of it all. Let me say something and don’t even think about interrupting me, show respect for a visitor for once, prove that you’re not like that weak general.”
The Zandrian nobility hold their breath, what did he think he was doing? He was insulting Zandri, insulting the general and indirectly the king himself! It didn’t seem if he was about to stop, even though they could see the king got very red, the colour of fury and anger.
-“Don’t you see it, false priest? Don’t you feel it? The gods have abandoned us. They left us, they left mankind to suffer. Yet there is hope.”
Memekh turned round and raised his arms to the sky.
-“And I’m the messenger of it!”
Nephren-Ka opened his mouth and replied as sharp as a snake’s tooth:
-“How dare you insult the ever watching gods? They’ve been here for us in the past, the helped us defeat the Dark One, they’re here for us now, helping to restore our glorious land and they will be here for us in the future!”
-“Stop that blasphemy, you fool. You don’t even know what you’re talking about, you claim to know how to interpret the will of the gods while there are no gods anymore. There is only Nagash!”
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The nobility rose from their seats looking frightened for the cursed name had been said. Not so long ago, but luckily before their time, Nagash had seized power over the Khemrian lands and although he was defeated in the end, his name would forever haunt their dreams, turning them into nightmares.
The King looked at the stranger, his fury channelling into his words:
-“How dare speak that dreadful name! May Ptra take the darkness out of your mind with his holy light. The Dark One ruined our land, slaughtering his brother mercilessly. Years upon years our people were tortured only to his delight. Diseases spread throughout the land, not only affecting humans, slaves and nobility alike, but also the crops. Hunger was followed by starvation and you claim that that heretic priest is our only hope?
Look around you, look at our land! Decades after the Dark One we still have to restore it to its original form, but already we can see that the gods are watching over us, helping us. Take a look at the Great River. When the Accursed One ruled, the water wasn’t clear, destroying our crops but now, thanks to the great gods, it has now returned to what it is now. Great are our harvests now, the fishes have returned.
And when will you understand that he’s dead? May the Gods make sure he stays that way forever.”
Memekh started to laugh, his laughter interrupting the tirade of the king.
-“Nagash and dead? That’s a good one. Haven’t you heard it yet? Haven’t you seen the signs in the sky, in the water or in the sand yet? Don’t you see it clearly?”
-“He was killed by the servants of the gods, his heart separated from his body, his soul broken beyond repair..”
-“And you really believe such a tale? How could anyone with the might of a god and with power greater than all the gods together be killed? The things you tell are all lies. Nagash is still amongst us.”
-“And you really believe that? Even if he has managed the impossible and escaped the wrath of the gods, he would be so old that he must have died..”
-“A person equal to the gods and so powerful as he is, is beyond death. That brings me to the reason I’m here.”
-“Beyond death? How could that be? If all the priests of this land have not found a way to resist death, how could one person have succeeded? But say what you have to and then return from where you came from, your presence is no longer appreciated.”
Defiant Memekh raised his head to look straight into the eyes of the king. Slowly revealing the two grapes he had left, he moved closer to nobleman.
-“You see these grapes? Look very carefully and listen to every word that leaves my mouth. This one, here in my right hand represents your city and people in all its might and glory when helping Nagash. Can you see how nice it shines, untroubled by the insects? Do you see it? Answer me! Do you see it?”
Dakush tried to stand up but he was pulled down by the priest which sat next to him. The king had now gotten furious, uncaring of the little ones that were present at the feast.
-“One more insult of you and you shall join Djaf in his dead kingdom.”
-“Answer the question!”
The ruler of Zandri now started to shake, his arms and legs now filled with anger. Why hadn’t he let Dakush kill him? Now he had to call the guards. But as soon as he opened his mouth, Memekh’s voice bellowed through the chamber.
-“Answer it! And don’t even think about calling guards! Look above you, do you see those balustrades..”
Everyone looked up and saw nothing. All of a sudden the shades started to move, revealing about ten blackdressed figures armed with bows and aiming at the nobility.
-“Since you refuse to answer to the question, I’m going to have to do it this way.”
He raised his right hand, revealing one of the grapes.
-“This is your city, your land and your family. Look how peaceful it is. And all of that is because of Nagash’s help and power.”
Without pausing, he crushed the grape in his left hand, juice dripping out his fist onto the floor. Smiling he continued:
-“This is what your kingdom will look like if you refuse Him to help…”
Sekhtep drew his sword and walked towards the Nagash*te.
-“Go now! Why would we want the curse of Nagash on our city? Why would we want to live in miserable years again? Why would we even need the Dark One? You’re not wanted. Guards, guards!”
From the corridors footsteps could be heard as well as the sound of swords being drawn. The footsteps came closer.
-“You fool! I knew you were too ignorant to understand what Nagash could mean for all of us. Think of all the good things he would have done, had you been wise enough to make the right decision. But now it’s too late. I challenge you to a duel, but first look at your son!”
The king turned round and he saw an arrow fired from above him towards Badesh who was caught in the moment, paralysed. Sekhtep could see Badesh’s mouth open and tried to scream his name, no words came out but the arrow came nearer and nearer to the young prince’s heart.
As the words slowly left his dry mouth, Sekhtep noticed a shadow moving in front of the prince, positioning himself into the path of the poison tipped arrow. Within less than a second, Sekthep recognised the face of his old friend. A tear started to flow down from the corner of his eyes over his cheek. Goodbye my friend, he thought, as he saw the arrow colliding with the chest of Nephren-Ka.
Behind him Sekhtep heard Memekh armour move and he quickly jumped aside, narrowly dodging the scimitar. He quickly cast his eyes on the bloodstained dress of his beloved priest. He turned round and quickly wiped a tear out his eyes.
-“You’re a coward Memekh, nothing more than the corpse you call master. First you challenge me, only to attack my defenceless son. May the gods feed your heart and soul to the desertcarrion and refuse you the entry to the hereafter. No more filthy tricks.”
With these words Sekhtep ran towards the stranger, his scimitar held high and ready to deliver a fatal blow.
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For Badesh it was a terrible sight to see his tutor hurt like that. He crawled to the priest, letting tears drop on to the mortally wounded priest.
-“Why, my tutor, why? In the name Ptra, why did you do that?”
Shaking over his whole body and while the last drops of life leaving him, Nephren-Ka tried to smile and opened his mouth.
-“I am old, my prince, and already I’ve accepted this fate. Please don’t cry over me, I’ll be embraced by our gods and I’m sure of my place in the afterlife.”
-“You can’t go! You may not leave me!”
-“Young Badesh, don’t worry about me, this is the way the gods wanted it to be. Even now I can hear them speaking to me.”
-“But..”
-“Silence, my son, for I have not much time. Please take this. It was to be a present from me. Make me proud, Badesh, make me proud…”
As the final words left the lips of the dead priest, Badesh felt something pressed into his right hand. He slammed his free left hand, balled into a fist, on the ground whilst screaming to the gods and letting his sorrow run freely as Nephren-Ka stopped breathing, his eyes closing, never to see the daylight again.
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Getting ready to fight, Dakush rose to his feet and ordered the royal guard to kill the archers on the balcony. Dodging arrows or using his shield to protect him, he hurried himself to the hallway only to find a bloodbath. Memekh had come with more men than he had seen on first sight. He watched scimitars rise and fall, rise and fall, cutting guards down, like the claws of a carrion can easily break the neck of cattle. Being a great strategist he knew that the battle was already lost, there were just too many of them. He ordered the remaining guards to join the melee as he ran back to the great hall, towards the royal family.
Upon entering the great hall he saw nobility pinned on their chairs, either frozen by fear of impaled by arrows. All around him he could hear the few who were still living and able to open their mouths screaming for help, he could hear the clattering of weapons and it seemed there was no end to it. One of the noblemen reached out for him, his hand covered in blood. Was it his own, or from the unfortunate woman next to him? Dakush didn’t know and tried to advance through the room towards the royal dynasty. In the middle of a step he was pulled back. He looked behind him and noticed one of the guests pulling him back with a mutilated hand. He could feel him struggling to live, yet Dakush had other business to intent to, he had to defend the king and his family. He raised his sword and cut of the hand of the guest, sealing his fate, leaving him on the cold black marble floor soaked in blood and letting him get surrounded by darkness.
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Duelling is something the king had done many times, yet this was an opponent he couldn’t best. It was as if Memekh wasn’t even there, yet Sekhtep was able to hit him though he was unable to wound his opponent. Sweat was forming under his crown, streaming through his hair into his neck. It seemed they had duelled for hours now, but it had only been a few minutes. As there was now sweat in the midst of his face, Sekhtep scimitar clashed with that of his opponents in a show of sparks. Was it his age that stopped Sekhtep from defeating that crazed man? Was their magic being used against him? Sekhtep was clueless, but he could feel his strength decreasing. At this rate he couldn’t keep his guard up for longer. With his mouth closed, he prayed in silence to the gods. Yet it was in vain as he suddenly grew aware of the fact that he was now facing two opponents. More and more black clad strangers entered the great hall, either coming through the openings in the wall or jumping down with the grace of a desert lion from the balcony. As their numbers grew, the numbers of the guards decreased. Only a handful of guards were still there, but they were severely outnumbered. The king himself was now being pushed back, back towards his throne where his son was still crying.
Suddenly he slipped as he stepped in a pool of blood. Lying down on the ground he looked in the eyes of a nomad and he could see death. The dweller raised his sword and Sekhtep could hear Memekh laughing behind him. How courageous he had been in his life, now he was only a shadow of his former self, the king thought. He closed his eyes, waiting for the blow to stop his heart from beating any longer. Just as he braced himself, he heard metal against metal.
-“My king, stand up! I can’t hold them of much longer!” Dakush yelled.
Sekhtep slowly opened his eyes and saw the loyalty in the eyes of his general. He was prepared to give his life for him. The king stood up and drew his sword.
-“My king, you must leave this hall now! There are simply too many of them! Get the prince and leave!”
-“No my friend. I can’t do that. I’m too tired. I’m tired in every bone in this body, every muscle feels like a rock. You get the prince and bring him to safety.”
-“No my king, I can’t do that. It is my duty to protect you!”
-“Protect the prince, that’s what I want you to do.”
-“No, I’ll protect you until I breathe out my last breath.”
-“General, that was an order! Now leave! Don’t make my sacrifice be in vain!”
With all the power he had still left, Sekhtep jumped forwards, into combat with the desert dwellers, to dance the dance of death for the last time. Dakush stood immobile for a few second until he looked in the eyes of the king. He could hear them say to leave now. He turned round, slid the throat of a dweller and ran to the still crying prince. He tried to guide him with him but the prince struggled and tried to stay by the side of his tutor, unwilling to face the fact that he was dead. Bringing down the side of his scimitar, he knocked the prince unconscious. Lifting him up he made his way to the secret tunnel, guarded by the few guards still alive. Just before he entered the darkness of the tunnel he looked back and he saw his old friend given his last strength and die a death, a death worthy for a great king.
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Don't mind my spelling and grammar that much. I'm still 17 and English ain't my first language. I hope you enjoyed it and I'd appreciate some comments/criticism.
Darlan
