CHAPTER 9
When Dendera's eyes opened, she woke to the soft morning air against her face, the hot breath of the man behind her on her neck, and the up-and-down jostling of a galloping horse between her legs.
Her mouth opened to let out a scream when thick arms pulled her tight. "Do it and you will be gagged."
She clamped her mouth shut and looked down at those thick arms holding the reins. Black and gray cloth covered them. Realization struck her as her brother's stories ran through her mind.
A member of the Cult of Sutek?
Seeing another four similarly garbed men riding beside them caused her to suck in a quick breath. One of the men had bits of silver on his torso, possibly signifying a rank of sorts.
Definitely members of the cult. Jahi was right.
She blinked, trying to clear her mind. The last thing she remembered was a brief conversation with Rondel. Then something bit her in the neck and the lights in her father's dining hall had gone out.
A dart. I've been drugged and kidnapped.
Whatever drug they had given her made it hard to concentrate. Still, she remembered the conversations with Jahi about his theories and deductions.
Menetnashte. Things must be worse than I thought. Is that what Rondel was getting at when he said it was important I marry Kafele?
Kidnap me and Father is made weaker.
Her eyes watered, wind whipping her face. Slowly, her mind cleared. A knot formed in her stomach. She had begun to remember some of the horrors Jahi discovered about the cult from long ago when it held more power.
Kafele doesn't seem half as disgusting as before.
A short and slightly bemused laugh escaped her throat.
* * *
Dendera had calmed considerably, coming to terms with her situation by the third change of mounts on their journey north. When Captain Haji, the man with silver on his garb, called for a halt the next day near a thick copse of sycamores, she told herself that all hope was not lost.
If they wanted me dead, they would have killed me in Girga. This means I'm probably a bargaining piece.
Her father might not be willing to let her choose her own husband, but she could not imagine him letting her die.
"Eat."
Dendera looked up from the old mulberry stump she sat on. One of the Sutek followers held a small wedge of cheese and a heel of bread. She accepted them eagerly, taking a large bite of the cheese first. It was sharp, but after almost a day without food, one of the best things she had ever eaten.
"Thank you," she said out of reflex, mouth half full. She considered taking her thanks back until she realized it might be best to stay on the good side of the men who kidnapped her.
The man grunted and set a skin of water at her feet before walking away. She watched him check on the horses for several minutes until he settled next to a lotus tree to keep watch. The beautiful white flowers adorning the branches above him contrasted against the ugly black garb worn by the man.
A slight breeze pushed against her, bringing with it the scent of the beautiful flowers. Their smell reminded her of her father's private garden.
Pay attention. Now isn't the time to daydream.
She glanced to the other four men. They slept on the hard ground despite the rising sun, arms across their chests and black cloth covering their faces. The position, coupled with the color of their attire reminded her of bodies ready for embalming.
She wondered what sort of men would join a cult and worship a god who most looked down upon. A shiver ran up her back when she thought of the atrocities associated with Sutek, most of which involved torture.
The kind of men you wouldn't want to be kidnapped by.
No longer hungry, she had to force herself to eat the rest of her meal. She didn't know when the next might come.
* * *
Each time her kidnappers stopped to rest, Dendera switched mounts and rode with a different cultist. She assumed it was so no one horse had to bear the burden of two riders for too long.
Or possibly to better mask our tracks? Gods if I know.
She attempted to initiate conversation throughout these rides, hoping she might develop sympathy from at least one of the men.
"I'm Dendera. What's your name?" "Do you think the weather will hold?" "The cheese we had earlier was lovely, how did you come by it?" "My mother taught me how to ride. Who taught you?"
Each question was met with thundering silence.
Dendera had no clue where they were taking her or how long she had until they reached their destination. Because of that, she realized her approach of childish questions would take too long to develop any sort of relationship with the men.
She swallowed hard realizing what she'd need to try next, hoping that neither her father nor Jahi would learn of it.
What other choice do I have? I can't fight my way out of here.
They stopped for the night and made camp well off the road. Dendera sat against a tree, bound at the wrists and ankles. One of Sutek's followers brought her dinner.
Cheese and bread again.
Dendera pushed aside her annoyance and put on a bright smile. She wished she knew the man's name, but they rarely spoke where she could hear them.
The man handed Dendera the meal. She reached up, but rather than accept the food right away, she rested her hands over his and softly stroked each of his digits, hoping that it somehow came across as seductively as she intended.
Dendera met the man's eyes peeking through his face covering. "I would love some conversation. Won't you sit by me for a while?"
The man froze and Dendera smiled wider, thinking she had finally made a connection. The back of the man's hand lashed out, slapping her across the cheek. A sharp knuckle cut her lip and the force of the blow threw her head back against the tree.
Blinking through cloudy vision, someone else had appeared at her side.
"Harsaf! Have you gone mad?"
"Captain, I was teaching her manners. The little whore tried to seduce me."
"It's not your place to teach anything." A hand grabbed her by the jaw and forced her head up, turning it to either side. "You are lucky her lip should heal by the time we make it back. You know she was not to be marked. Get the whip from my bag. Five lashes for going against the High Priest's orders."
"But-"
"Ten, since you are having trouble obeying mine as well."
Dendera's vision cleared as Harsaf bowed his head. "Yes, Captain."
The captain turned back to Dendera as Harsaf walked away. He spoke in hushed tones. "Don't think this excuses your behavior. This is your one and only warning. If you talk to or touch any of my men again, you will be the one to suffer." He paused. "There are many ways to inflict pain without leaving cuts or bruises." He tilted his head to the side. "Those are my favorite."
