Pharaoh of Egypt

Chapter 6 - The man with jewels for eyes

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Quote of the Day: "When I close my eyes, I see Pennywise and oh lord."

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Cool water splashed against my cracked lips. Opening my mouth my tongue slipped out, unconsciously lapping it up. Suddenly the steady flow ceased and I groaned shifting in the sand.

Furrowing my brows, my vision swam as I opened my eyes only to see a strange black shadow looming over me. My eyes finally focused as the shadow leaned in close.

It was almost as if my breath had been stolen from my mouth, for the first thing I noticed were the most beautiful set of emerald eyes framed by dark eyelashes blinking down at me.

They were beautiful- by the God's they truly were.

Dazed I reached a hand up and the figure pulled back abruptly. That's when it clicked. Eyes belong to people and so- I was lying on a stranger's lap.

A momentary burst of strength flooded my veins and I pushed off the person, rolling onto the hot sand with a thud. Grains of dirt billowed about me, stinging my eyes and entering my mouth. Doubling over I choked on the dust, heavy coughs wracking through my body. My throat, unable to take the force, tore under the strain and I spat out blood. Wiping the spit away with the back of my hand I lay there trying to recollect my breath.

Suddenly from the corner of my eye I noticed movement. I jerked back sloppily as the person reached forward, a meshk in their hand. He froze pulling back slightly before reaching out again and I dug my fingers into the burning ground, gritting my teeth in pain as I dredged up sand with each hefty pull trying to get away.

My momentary strength ran dry and I gave up collapsing face down, panting. The sound of shuffling filled my ears and my fingers twitched as I raised my head slightly to see the figure staring down at me. The person reached out and I pulled back trying to move away again but my arms trembled from the over exertion.

"Baasa, you grow weak."

The muffled voice cut through my haze of fatigue and I stilled. It was a masculine voice.

"I do not accept any man's help," I rasped hoarsely, wincing at the taste of blood from the back of my throat. Without looking back at him, I forced my arms to reach forward, though they trembled violently.

He lifted his muffled voice, "Then you shall perish by your own hand."

"I don't-" I grit my teeth, sealing my cries of agony, "Need your help."

Suddenly the light of the sun dimmed and I struggled raising my head to see him squatting in front of me. An arm raised he held the side of his robe up, shielding me from the heat. He reached out with his other hand and laid the water bag before me,

"Then accept it from the Deshret," he said calmly.

I pushed the leather skin bag away, the answering slosh of water called to me and I winced, licking my cracked lips,

"I do not know who you are, I do not know what you will do with me. Now leave."

Even though my tongue yearned for the water did I remain stubborn, digging my heels into the ground.

"You will die without water Baasa, that I promise."

"Then so be it."

"And if I were a Habiru then I would never be offering you my most sacred possession."

His words resonated in my ear. They made sense, but the lingering fear remained within me. My long standing ability to trust had been torn out mercilessly by the hands of the man I once thought I loved.