by D.A. Dean
~ ~ ~
Bidding the wind to coax the tree's leaves together into tighter cover, Horus perched half-hidden on a low branch of a sprawling sycamore. Teo knelt just outside the tent of the high priestess, waiting as Nalia spoke with her.
People passed by, their eyes keen with curiosity even in the dim light of the small, flickering fires of the white-gowned women circled around the tent.
A child's wail broke the quiet.
Several women in long pastel-hued gowns rushed to the aid of the worried mother. Beyond them, from the right, was movement.
Teo stood. Lowering his shoulders, he widened his stance and angled toward the tall, powerfully-built man approaching.
Horus noted the man's measured stride, the shine the moonlight brought to the cropped loose curls of his dark brown hair, the firm set of his clenched jaw. The slight sway of his short necklace of carnelian beads and slender sash of bronze-red contrasted the tightness of his shoulders. The swing of his well-muscled arms was controlled, his right hand held stiffly at his sides between his sheathed weapon and thigh. Horus hopped forward along the limb.
"Good evening," Teo called mildly.
"Good evening," the man answered, voice neutral.
For a moment, the two warriors gazed at each other in silence.
Teo crossed his left arm over his chest.
The man crossed his right over his left and lowered them, letting them hang loosely. "I'm Fassah. Interesting route you and the woman took. You were the first to come that way."
"And yet someone stood guard," Teo noted and tipped his head. "My name's Teo. I'm pleased to meet you."
"Teo. Well, well. A good name," Fassah replied. "Are you here to join us or just passing through?"
Teo gazed off toward the fires. "That decision has yet to be made."
"I see." Fassah studied him. "What leads you here?"
"I accompany a Priestess of Isis."
"Ah. And the two of you are here to determine if it's safe for others to follow?"
"I suppose you could say so." Teo's gaze wandered among the myriad people resting around their family tents. "Many have chosen to gather. Why is that?" He waited. Receiving no answer, he ventured, "You believe there's safety here?"
"A true warrior may ask another, but he makes the determination for himself."
Smiling, Teo nodded. "And who did you feel it safe to bring?"
"If the high priestess thinks the information your priestess conveys warrants another to join them, perhaps you'll find out. What brought you and your priestess?"
It was a moment before Teo answered. "It's time for hope," he said simply.
Fassah's brows lifted. Quickly, he fixed his gaze to a spot in the distance. "Yes, there must always be hope. How is it—" he fell silent, the muted sound of footfalls coming forward from within the tent.
Saien leaned through the tent's flaps, his gaze settling on Teo. He narrowed his eyes then motioned Fassah nearer. "The high priestess requests your master's presence."
"I will convey her request," Fassah said and bowed.
Saien dropped the tent's flap.
"It's a heavy weight he carries," Fassah said to Teo as if in explanation.
"I understand. The role of protector, though a privilege, is not always an easy one."
"Indeed," Fassah replied, moved a few paces off, and stopped. "It was a dream that brought me here. I knew what I'd find before I was sent. Perhaps you, too, will find what you seek in this place." He strode soundlessly away.
Horus allowed himself a moment to study the people of the encampment. How beautiful they were.
From the direction of the chieftain's tent, eight men approached.
Horus angled toward them, his gaze sweeping over the seven warriors then fastening to the commanding figure in the center of the group, the great tribal chieftain whose tent's cloth held symbols of honor and power. Tatuuf, the man Teo confessed he had as a boy aspired one day to serve.
Saien emerged to hold open the tent's flap.
"Wait here," Tatuuf said, motioning all but one of his warriors, a man with keen hazel eyes and obvious high rank. "Korris, you will accompany me. In a moment." Tatuuf moved to Teo, appraising, and Teo lifted his chin. "Fassah informs me you came with the Priestess of Isis and are a Fifth Order Warrior. Is this correct?"
"Yes, Chieftain."
"Your name is Teo?" Tatuuf asked, circling him.
Teo squared his shoulders. "Yes, Chieftain."
"How old are you?"
"I am past the age of initiation."
"That is apparent. It doesn't answer my question."
"Respectfully, Chieftain, I couldn't say."
"I would guess you to be," Tatuuf said and paused, stroking his chin, "about eighteen."
Teo kept his expression unchanged. "Respectfully, Chieftain—"
"You couldn't say. I wonder why that might be?" The chieftain's lips twitched, whether with irritation or amusement, Horus wasn't sure. "I'm told you possess the skills of a Sixth Order Warrior, though at eighteen you're seven years too young to be bestowed that rank. I'm Tatuuf. You've heard of me?"
Teo's shoulders relaxed. "Oh, yes, Chieftain. I once saw your procession when I was a child. And my priestess told me many stories of you."
"Stories about me, eh? Hm. Well, one day many priestesses will tell stories about you, I'll wager, Teo. Perhaps we'll meet again soon."
"It would be my honor, Chieftain."
Tatuuf turned to Korris, and they entered Maeta's tent. Saien dropped the flaps.
Gaze to the ground, Teo angled closer to the flaps, the warriors grouped closely around the tent appraising him, some with their hands to their weapons.
The breeze flicked the leaves, tickling, over Horus' back. He ignored them.
A sparrow's sudden trilling met Fassah's quick whistle of return. "Good evening again, Teo. You now know what master I serve?"
"I was aware I spoke with a true warrior of high rank. I didn't know the position held was of such honor."
Fassah motioned for the warriors to sit. "Something you're familiar with, I think."
"I'm sure I couldn't say."
Fassah gave him a sidelong glance.
Voices rose within the tent, and Fassah stiffened, knees bent. The warriors leapt to their feet.
Inconspicuously, Teo inched his hand to his knife.
The shouts returned to murmurs.
Fassah loosened his posture, and the warriors relaxed.
A warrior about Teo's height with handsome features and shoulder-length black hair, wearing a necklace of small black beads muttered, "Disconcerting when that happens." He rolled his wide shoulders and sank again to the ground. Lifting his gaze, his light brown-green eyes seeming to surprise Teo, he said, "I'm Sarti." His gaze drifted to Fassah.
Fassah rubbed his nose. Secret signal?
"So, Teo," Sarti said amiably, "what village are you from?"
"My birth village is about a quarter's day walk from here. Near the river. A fact I don't mind sharing." Teo gazed at Fassah, who stared ahead.
"Mine's the other way," Sarti said, recalling Teo's attention, and tilted his head to the left. "About two day's journey. At least it was. Not there anymore." He cleared his throat. "But glad yours is."
A kite landed on the branch beside Horus. Startled, he attempted to shoo it.
"Strange." Fassah looked up, his gaze swiftly fixing to Horus. "An unusual cry for a falcon," he said, watching Teo from the corner of his eye. Edging nearer to him, fingers curled beside his sheathed knife, he scanned the sky.
Suddenly, as if in response to something unheard by the others, Teo took a step back and leaned closer to the tent.
Nalia lifted its flap. After motioning Teo near, she gave Fassah a warning stare, its intensity unnerving Horus.
Fassah lowered his gaze respectfully but refrained from turning away.
"Priestess?" Teo rubbed his
ear, giving his head a slight tilt, and leaned nearer still.
Horus pricked his ears.
Nalia scratched her throat in answer to Teo's gesture. "Go now. We will meet," she said, holding her gaze locked to his, "just this side of the reeds soon after daybreak."
Teo's shoulders tightened. "You're staying?"
"There are questions about my message. It's my hope in the morning those questions will find answers." Nalia paused, glancing with seeming disinterest at the warriors. She whispered slowly, "Twenty-one follow two who follow one to find two."
Jaw clenched, Teo nodded.
* * * * *
