Heretic of the Nile

011

After peering down each of the passageways in turn, Mereneith decided they didn't look much different. They settled for the one branching from the right side of the cavern, directly across the one they had taken to get here.

"I can't believe they mistook me for an assassin. I know I don't always appear like a prince, but still!" Kha complained as they made their way down the tight corridor. "And what do you think that fire was about? I must have offended the gods in some way, for all this to be happening to me in the same day."

"You honestly think it was a mistake?"

"What else could it have been?"

"Don't you think it's all a bit too coincidental? Your quarters catch fire for no reason—only yours and no one else's—and before you can let anyone know you're not inside, we get waylaid by a bunch of guards who brand you as an assassin and start firing arrows at your head before you have the chance to defend yourself. What are the odds that none of them recognised who you were?"

There was a long pause, leaving only the sounds of their sandals grazing against the gravel below. Mereneith tilted her head to sneak a glance at the prince. His brows were tightly knitted, forming visible creases along the bridge of his nose.

"It's just a hypothesis," she said, breaking the silence. "I might be wrong."

"No," Kha replied. "You have every reason to be suspicious. I'm the one who's too naïve. I haven't thanked you yet. If it weren't for you, I'd already have an arrow through the head. And you're injured because of me as well." He sighed, lengthening his stride to pick up the pace. "We should get out of here quickly so that you can get that wound properly looked at. I'm no expert, as you can probably tell from the sloppy bandage."

Mereneith peered down towards her shoulder, and then at the ripped hem of Kha's loincloth. Perhaps she had been too harsh on him, she thought. After all, it was not every day a prince had to run for his life like a common street rat.

They continued making their down the seemingly never-ending passage, making it a point to always choose the gate on the right whenever they encountered a fork in the path. Just in case, to make it easier to retrace their steps later. In the darkness, they could hardly tell how far they had progressed, or if they were simply going in pointless circles. Mereneith felt her strength slowly waning, the makeshift bandage doing little to stem the blood flow from her wound.

Kha stopped, then took hold of her arm and lifted her onto his back.

"What are you doing?"

"Just hold on tight," he replied. "I don't want you dying on me before we manage to find a way back to the surface."

Under different circumstances she would have said no, but Mereneith didn't have the energy to do anything beyond wrapping her arms around Kha's neck at this point. She didn't want to die either. Not like this.

But perhaps the tombs of the kings was not meant for a commoner like her, because it wasn't long before they were faced with a complete change in scenery.

Kha and Mereneith finally emerged out of the maze of corridors and into a relatively small chamber. Unlike the shadowy, dismal cavern they had come from, this room was as brightly lit as day, illuminated by numerous lanterns containing Ak'heka crystals had been nailed into the walls. A large stone sarcophagus sat in the middle of the chamber, painted in brilliant gold and lined with rich hues of azure and vermilion.

Strangely enough, other than a small set of ushabti and canopic jars sitting at one side of the sarcophagus, there was no sign of any other common burial goods or offerings. Instead, the sides of the chamber were lined with shelves and barrels bearing scrolls. There had to be hundreds of them filling the room.