Pharaoh's Desire (2 page)

Beneath the thick clouds of smoke, she was able to see better.
 
Once her vision adjusted, she gasped in shock. She could barely make out the outline of Zetran’s charred body. She knew he too, was dead.

Screaming in horror, she bolted upright and ran.
 
She stumbled aimlessly, falling over the smoldering items the fire had ravaged. Pockets of bright red flames threw off a scorching heat that singed the very air she breathed. She hurried toward made for the last room, coughing and nearly doubled over. Her heart tightened in her chest. Akahmen was not there.

She turned around, staggering, and tripped over something, hitting the floor hard. She peered at the bundle at her feet, willing her eyes to focus despite the smoke.
Akahmen!
She pulled his body against hers, cradling his head, but it was no use. He was limp in her arms. The raging fire drowned out the sound of her grief-filled sobs. She laid him on his back and crossed his arms over his chest. There was no time to perform the ceremonial prayer. If she didn’t escape now, she would surely be trapped inside.

She half-ran, falling and stumbling over debris. When she fell against the wall by the side of a door, the wall gave way, freely opening into a dark, earthen tunnel. A small, flaming wooden beam fell against her shoulder, burning her, and she cried out, but kept her pace. The cool interior of the tunnel was a welcome relief, and almost immediately, she felt beads of sweat cooling against the heated skin on her back. She wiped her eyes with the heel of her blistered hand and was too numb to even feel the pain. She fought to keep the images of Satati, Akahmen, and Zetran from her mind. The time for grieving was later.

As she neared the end of the tunnel, she heard loud shouts. She stood frozen, wondering if the sounds were from friend or foe. It was not uncommon for warring tribes to resort to violence like this. She hid in the shadows, quiet as a gazelle, trying to listen to the voices. Her heartbeat thundered loudly in her ears, like frenzied fists pounding on a drum. She waited until the muted sounds died away and spurred herself into action. She planned to race toward Akahmen’s boat that was still docked on the riverbank. She hoped his servants would still be there, keeping vigil.

She glanced around and, seeing nothing, fled from the tunnel. A fire-scorched landscape greeted her. Houses, monuments, and fields had been set aflame, and whatever had not been ravaged by the inferno was left scarred and blackened.

As she ran, an amulet of the goddess Pakhet swung wildly from her neck on a leather cord. Pakhet was the patron of inner strength. Kama wrapped her burned fingers around its familiar shape, the head of a lioness attached to a woman’s body, and said a silent prayer for the goddess to watch over her. She would escape this fire or die trying.

She made it as far as the outskirts of the city when she heard shouts behind her. Kama glanced back and saw a swarm of Egyptian soldiers. Exhausted ,she was quickly overtaken by the group. They immediately surrounded her, forming a wide circle and trapping her in the middle.
 
They closed in tighter until she had nowhere to run.

A tall, thin man stormed through the ring of human bodies, brandishing his sword in the air. He had a cruel face that only a mother would cherish. Apparently, he was the leader of this pack of vultures.

“What do we have here?” he spat contemptuously. He gave her a lustful glare that left no doubt as to his intentions. “I have no love for Nubians,” he sneered, “yet I will have the pleasure of sampling what lies beneath your dress. Do you willfully submit or must I force you?”

She was shocked at his vulgarity. How could the gods breathe life into this brute?
 
He gave her a menacing stare, but she swallowed her fear and held her ground.
 
She would give no man the satisfaction of humbling her.

“Speak when you are spoken to, woman!” he demanded. “Or have you no tongue?”

Anger like hot tar bubbled inside her, threatening to spill over. She lifted her chin and gave him the full measure of her fury. “Animals like you do not deserve my words,” she said scathingly.

He eyed her with loathing and then shouted to the assembled soldiers. “Men, I think this creature
is nothing more than a common whore! Look at her clothing. She is a dirty, filthy, Nubian whore.” He licked his lips. “And she’s ours for the taking!”

Kama gasped aloud. “I am no harlot! I’m dirty from the smoke and fire.” She gave them all venomous glares. If they thought they’d found some helpless victim, she would soon prove them wrong. “I am chaste, and if you dare to find out,” she challenged, “it will be the last thing you do before dying.”

In response, the man raised his sword high above his head and brought it down swiftly in front of her. The shiny metal of his weapon sliced through the thin fabric of her dress, cutting it in two halves and baring her flesh. A loud roar of excitement echoed in the night air. The soldiers jeered and yelled as they advanced forward, each determined to take the first spoils of the night.

The tall, thin man called out, “She is mine first!”

Kama hurriedly pulled the two pieces of her garment together with one hand and picked up a rock with the other. She hurled the stone as hard as she could, easily hitting one of the soldiers in the face. He howled in response. Her heart raced in alarm. They might take her, but not before she inflicted some damage of her own!

From atop his horse, Pharaoh Amonmose stared down at the fires ravishing the city of Aswan. He watched long enough to see the leaping flames slowly transform into angry red embers glowing eerily against the dark horizon. His long cloak fluttered in the warm night breeze as he felt the blood racing through his veins. Tonight, he and his men had raided three towns and taken them all by surprise. They were covered from head to toe with black smoke and dirt, but none of them seemed to care. They were focused on one thing—conquering their Nubian neighbors.

Egypt seemed to attract enemies like flies to a pile of dung, but the Nubians were perhaps their most deadly foes. Egypt had the misfortune of sharing a southern border with Aswan, which was located in Lower Nubia. The proximity of the two kingdoms invited constant warring. His royal council had informed him that fierce Nubian warriors had been mercilessly attacking small towns on the outskirts of Thebes. Two days ago, Egyptian temples had been desecrated, and in one town, the wife of a government official had been abducted.

Amonmose had ridden into battle tonight determined to have his vengeance against the Nubians. Yet, strangely, his army had not been met with any opposition. Thus far, he’d seen none of the Nubian resistance his royal advisors had told him existed.

In the distance, he heard a deep rumble of shouting. He’d heard that particular sound before. It was the way the soldiers celebrated when they’d found precious booty. He quickly turned his mount around and sped in the direction of the noise.

When Amonmose arrived at the edge of the village, he saw a battalion of his soldiers huddled in a thick circle. Whatever prize they’d found had so totally enraptured them that they were unaware of his approach. As he neared the melee, he saw one of the soldiers fall back and crumple to the ground. The man’s loud yelp of pain could be heard above the din of the noise. The ring of soldiers parted slightly as two of the men stooped down to help their fallen comrade, giving Amonmose a glimpse inside
A woman!
She was hopelessly surrounded, and the men were closing in on her. In a desperate attempt to thwart their advance, she was hurling rocks. Her last effort had landed a soldier on his backside. The woman was fighting for her life, and he was impressed by her bravery.

“Enough!” His deep voice prompted deafening silence. The soldiers respectfully parted to allow him entrance into the circle, and Amonmose addressed his chief commander. “Nadesh, what goes on here?”

“We found a survivor, Sire,” Nadesh answered. “A Nubian traitor or probably a whore.”

“I am neither!” the woman hissed.

Amonmose turned his attention to her. Up close, she was breathtaking, despite the dirt and soot. She had a graceful form and hair the color of ebony. She held a shredded white dress like a shield in front of her. It did little to conceal the ample curves of her body. With her narrow waist and wide hips, she looked like one of the exotic dancers that often entertained at the palace. Her skin was the darkest of browns and smooth as the slopes of the Sahara Desert. He could see her slim legs outlined beneath the thin fabric of her torn garment.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“I am Kama Nubemheb,” she answered boldly. “I hail from Kerma.”

Her full bosom was heaving up and down. She was obviously exhausted by the heroic effort she’d made to fight off her attackers.

“You are named after the Egyptian goddess of love,” he said. At that moment, their gazes locked, and he stared into her onyx-colored eyes. Her look told him she was surprised by his observation. In the midst of battle, most men were consumed with looting and killing, not matters of minor theology.

“Yes,” she said warily. “Nubians worship many of the same gods as you. My mother named me after the Egyptian goddess of love. But that is not an invitation. I have no wish to service you or your filthy soldiers.”

Amonmose smiled to himself. She did not seem like a harlot. In fact, from her outraged behavior, she acted as if she were royalty. His gaze roamed over the long, thin braids surrounding her face. She stood wary, ready to spring at any moment. She was like a crocodile. Silent and calm, but deadly when provoked. Her eyes were dark as a midnight sky, shiny as the stars in the heavens, and glowing with the anger of a raging fire. It was entrancing.

Her body language silently rebuked him, with shockingly openly hostility. She was almost as fierce as a man, arrogant and haughty. But her looks were striking, and her body was lush.

“Do you know who I am?” Amonmose demanded.

“No, I do not, and I am certain it is no concern of mine,” she spoke bravely. “I ask only for safe passage. I can make it well worth your trouble,” she added.

“Oh?” He did not bother to hide the suggestive tone of his remark. “And what of your cherished maidenhead

Kama flushed. “You misunderstand my words. My cousin was to be married on the morrow. Her dowry waits at the river. If you let me go, it’s yours.”

He deliberately advanced his mount toward her. He was so close he could smell her scent intermingling with the foul smell of smoke in the air. “What makes you think I won’t simply take the dowry, along with anything else I desire?” He watched as she took a step backward.

“You seem like a man of great importance,” she said. “If you say you will release me in exchange for the dowry, I know every man here will comply with your wishes.”

Nadesh interrupted. “She lies. She is probably no more than a slave giving away her master’s goods to earn her freedom.”

“No!
 
I am slave to no master!” Kama shouted.

Amonmose watched her shake her head vigorously, her free hand clenching into a fist. He wondered if she was always so passionate. Suddenly, he had a vision of her beneath him, arching her hips to his and clasping her legs around his back. He fought the rise beneath his tunic. Her spirited nature had inflamed his desire, and slave or not, he wasn’t ready to release her yet.

Keeping his heated gaze on Kama, he spoke to Nadesh. “Bring her back to Thebes,” he commanded. “She will be mine.”

He saw clear indignation written on her comely face. “You are making a mistake,” she told him. “I am not for sale.”

He smirked. “Then I shall take you for free.”

Her eyes became narrow slits. “You shall never have me!”

Amonmose was accustomed to his subjects bowing before him.
 
That this mere
slip
of a woman had the audacity to … She needed to be put in her place. He gave his full attention to Nadesh. “Take her to my vessel, but I want her treated well,” he admonished. “No one is to touch her.” He spared the woman a quick glance before spurring his horse back in the direction he’d come from.

Kama got one last look at the mysterious man before he hastily rode away. Her gaze quickly followed the lines of his muscular body. He was draped in a light-colored shendyt that was knotted at the waist and fell to just above his knees. His bronzed, muscled chest was bare but almost entirely concealed by a red cloak upon his shoulders. A metal headpiece covered most of his ears and head, and a well-groomed, black goatee framed his stern mouth. His amber eyes glowed with a mysterious heat, and the tight line of his lips and his hard-set jaw told her he was not someone to be taken lightly.