Pharaoh's Desire (13 page)

Kama was pleased. She could see everything perfectly. Her bodyguard, Shu kept vigil a short distance away. She’d grown used to his omnipresence and she often forgot he was watching over her. Today, she was too excited to think of anything else but the Festival. Anticipation fluttered in her stomach at the thought of seeing Amonmose at last. She was filled with a mixture of fear, trepidation, and optimism. Fingers squeezing tight on the amulet around her neck, she paid silent homage to the goddess Pakhet, praying for courage and fortitude.

Whatever nervousness she felt abated with the arrival of Dyzet’s sisters. All four ladies were mirror images of each other. They all had the same cinnamon-colored skin and tiny, shapely figures, a full foot shorter than Kama herself. Each one had taken the time to adorn herself with kohl, emphasizing her wide, dark eyes. Kama knew also that it was the custom for Egyptian women to shave their heads and wear wigs. But Dyzet’s sisters had long, beautiful hair that looked so natural she could not determine if the locks were wigs or not. They were so busy chattering, they seemed not to notice her intense scrutiny.

It seemed as if the entire population of Egypt was present for the event. Everyone from farmers and soldiers to musicians and crafters had come. The nobles, draped in the finest clothes and fashionable jewelry, sat in their own section, quietly observing the arena below. Kama was dressed comfortably in a long, white sheath dress belted at the waist and brown leather sandals. As usual, she’d tied her long braids loosely in back. If anyone eyed her simple attire with scorn, she was oblivious. She was there for one reason, and her eyes remained glued to the arena floor in search of him.

At the suggestion of Nadesh, Amonmose arrived secretly by chariot to the Festival. Nadesh was concerned about his safety. Nadesh was always concerned about his safety. But despite his dramatic precautions, Amonmose trusted the man’s judgment.

Heavily guarded, he made his way to the arena floor just in time for the archery competition. Two of his trusted servants carried his large bow, quiver of arrows, and a spare bow, just in case. He believed in being prepared, no matter what the occasion. Baal walked directly behind him, his eagle-sharp eyes surveying everything. They found the royal advisors waiting them just outside the arena.

Nadesh stepped forward. “Greetings, Sire. You are looking exceptionally fit today. May I be the first to congratulate you on your victory?”

Amonmose laughed good-naturedly. “The contest has not yet begun, Nadesh. Have you been indulging in that Asian cannabis again?”

Even the dour Nadesh shared in a jovial laugh. “No, I am merely stating the inevitable. You are a master at this sport and you will win, I am certain.”

Meketen nodded. “Most certainly. Although, I am told there are a few challengers who may test your skills today, Pharaoh.”

“Good,” Amonmose replied. There was no benefit to participating if he had no real competition. Some of the nobles would go so far as to purposely lose games because they believed it would garner his favor, only to find themselves later shunned. Like any other man, Amonmose wanted to test his talents against others, to win or lose based on his effort, not his position as Pharaoh.

With a nod to each of his men, he set out across the arena to take his place among the contenders.

“Archers ready!” the announcer shouted.

Amonmose felt the blood coursing through his veins with new vigor. This was what he’d been waiting all year for.

“There will be three contests,” the announcer said. “The first event is the flight contest, which will measure how great a distance each archer can shoot his arrow. Each competitor will be given two opportunities to shoot. The ten men who land their arrows the furthest distance will advance to the next competition. Needless to say, the remaining men shall be eliminated.”

Amonmose studied his competition. There were close to one hundred men of various ages and backgrounds gathered to hear the announcer’s words. They had gone through pre-qualifying events and were the best in their cities. Still, as good as he believed they were, he knew he was even better.

The announcer continued. “The next event will be the target contest, which measures how accurate the archer’s aim is. Points will be awarded based on proximity. The closer the arrow to the middle, the greater the amount of points. Each competitor is allowed three attempts, and after each attempt, the target will be moved back ten cubits. So, by the third attempt, the final target will be thirty cubits away. The five men who score the greatest points shall advance to the next competition.

“The final event will be the field contest. This category measures speed, marksmanship, accuracy, and skill. Six apples will be placed atop six wooden poles five cubits in height. The poles will be placed an equal distance from each other. Each contestant will be required to shoot each apple from each pole while riding a horse at full gallop.”

The crowd cooed in anticipation at such a spectacle, but the announcer lifted his hands and motioned for silence.

“In addition,” he cried, “the first two apples must be hit upon approach, the second two must be hit while passing by, and the last two must be hit after you have passed the targets.”

Amonmose smiled. He had practiced shooting like this before. The trick to winning was in controlling the horse. He would not be riding his own mount, so he hoped the horse he was given was a competent animal.

Kama watched closely as each man lined up for the flight contest. She immediately recognized Amunmose in his short blue tunic with long sleeves. With his muscular physique and impressive looks, he stood out from all the other contestants.

Kama’s stomach was turning flips as she watched him walk to his mark and prepare to shoot. He was the epitome of masculinity. The corded muscles of his strong legs rippled with each move he made. He wore gold cuff bracelets and a thick, gold collar encrusted with garnet and turquoise. He held his head high, gaze steady.

“No man should be so handsome,” Kama heard one woman say.

“Yes,” another woman agreed. “I would stare at him all day and never get a thing done.”

“I can assure you, we would get quite a few things done—over and over and over again!”

Kama smiled to herself. Amonmose was indeed pleasing to the eye. Yet, while these women could only imagine being with him, she’d had the pleasure of knowing his touch, feeling his caresses and tasting his sweet lips. After the contest, she would go to him. If only she were as confident as Dyzet about her effect on him.

The flight competition was the quickest way to eliminate the weaker archers. Anyone could shoot an arrow, but it took strength to launch it over great distances. After almost an hour, all but ten were disqualified.

Amonmose had easily advanced. His arrow fell a distance of seventy-five cubits—a Festival record. The exuberant cries from the crowd lifted his spirit, and he felt certain he would win again this year. With so many men competing, this was

The second event was harder, but the Pharaoh had spent the past two days practicing for this very event. The archers drew straws to decide who would go first. Amonmose drew the next to the last man in the event.

The first contestant did not hit the middle but did earn thirteen points, setting a high standard for the subsequent archers. The second and third contestants were both equally bad, scoring high on the first launches, but poorly as the target was moved a greater distance away. One man missed the target completely, causing raucous laughter among the spectators. After almost another hour, eight contestants had competed, and it was finally Amonmose’s turn.

He closed his eyes and focused inward, visualizing his arrow hitting the target. He’d done this a thousand times, and today would be no exception. When he opened his eyes, he concentrated on the simple target. He pulled an arrow from his quiver. He’d used the same type of arrow for the past ten years. Constructed of solid wood with an arrowhead made of ram’s horn and fletching of eagle feathers, it had never failed him. The placement of the fletching was critical in achieving the desired flight path of the arrow. His feathers were attached at an angle, which caused the arrow to spin in flight. It did not add to the accuracy, but it made a spectacular presentation when it was launched.

Without further hesitation, he drew back the sinewy cord of his bow until it was taut and took aim. He breathed in deeply and released the arrow, holding still and he watched it fly towards the target. With lightening speed, it spun through the air and landed in the middle. The crowd erupted in cheers.

Amonmose smiled before drawing another arrow from his quiver. He was now in second place, a position he did not intend to stay in for long. The next launch would put him in the lead.

He waited patiently as the announcer directed a young boy to move the target back ten meters. He aimed, released the second arrow, and watched it spiral toward the target. Just when he was certain it would hit the coveted spot in the middle, it dipped and landed squarely, just missing the center. Again, his efforts were met by cheers. It was not a perfect shot, but it put him decisively in first place with a score of fifteen.

Kama watched nervously as Amonmose prepared to his final arrow. He was an amazing marksman. She held her breath as she watched him pull firmly on the string of the bow. His brawny arms were bundled tightly, the muscles of his biceps and forearms flexing with each movement. She shivered, remembering how those arms had gently held her that day in the garden. She had felt his strength and his passion.

She saw him pause briefly before releasing the arrow. In the next instant, the arrow solidly hit the red center of the target. Both she and Dyzet stood and clapped wildly, their shrieks of delight melting into the roar of the spectators around them.

Nadesh strutted like a proud peacock as he watched the competition from the tunnel into the arena. That totaled twenty-five points for Amonmose. “Didn’t I tell you he would be victorious?”

“There is still one more competitor and one more event,” Hai reminded him.

“Easily crushed,” Nadesh said, keeping his eye on Amonmose. He had shaped the Pharaoh into a strong and competent warrior, into the best among them.

“What of this surprise you spoke of, Nadesh? You said we would find out today.”

Nadesh grinned and cut a look at Hai. “Be patient my friend. A good mystery is like a fine wine. The longer you keep it bottled up, the better it tastes when it is finally shared.”

He scanned the stands until his eyes fell on Kama. So, she was here after all, looking as bewitching as ever in her delicate white tunic, her dark braids pulled back from her comely face. Her skin gleamed like finely polished ebony.

Nadesh hid a sneer. She had turned out to be more of threat than he’d ever imagined when he’d cornered her in the dark and sliced her dress from her body. Since the day she’d arrived, she’d made no secret of her contempt for him and all of his men—they who preserved Egypt. Nadesh saw her giggle happily to her friends and smiled darkly. Soon, he would give Kama her comeuppance and then, he would have the last laugh.