When the day of the Pharaoh’s arrival came, the Copper Ring chittered with excitement. I had to hand it to Timu, we really did have the best seat in the house. I was sitting on his lap, up in the watch tower next to the gate and could see the Pharaoh’s vast caravan approaching before anyone in the crowd.

Leading the caravan was a cavalry. People on horses with ornate armor on. Both the people and the horses. Behind them were four elephants wearing intricately woven textiles and gold helmets. The two elephants in the front had people riding them. One woman had on a flowy robe that was pink that covered her from her legs to her head. The other held an old man with a sort of power goatee. He was dressed in all kinds of knick-knacks. I asked my dad who they were. He said they were magicians the Pharaoh surrounded himself with for protection.

Behind them was a man riding a camel. He had an axe almost the size of his body slung at his back, sword in the hilt on his hip. And a knife holster across his bare muscular chest. He wore no armor except some furs on his shoulders. Behind him was a monster. A stone giant was carrying the royal carriage on his shoulder.

“What is that?” I asked my dad.

“Golems,” my dad said, “probably summoned by Archetta. The Great Summoner”

He pointed to the lady in the flowy robe. I could not stop staring at the magical creature. Dare I say it was with childlike wonder. Each step from the golem provided a thunderous thump on the ground that somehow dwarfed the enthusiastic lisztomania of the crowd.

My dad’s boss ordered the guards to start a path. The guards came in with shields and beat back the wave of people. The Pharaoh’s cavalry approached and cleared the way. The men brought their spears and waved them, slicing through the air to provide room for the Pharaoh.

My dad’s boss, a slovenly man named Fris who operated the security for the bronze ring, scuttled up to us. As if there was a modern water cooler next to us, he gossiped.

“They say the Prinep is coming to the Bronze Ring.”

“Which bronze ring?” my dad asked

“This one. To meet the Pharaoh in person.”

“This one? He's coming here? Why weren’t we told sooner?”

“You know how the Princep is," Fris said, “He's fickle. He thought it would look weak to meet the god-king at the entrance, and just this morning, he thought it would look like an insult to not meet him.”

“Do we stay in the tower?” my dad asked.

Fris tapped his chubby finger on my dad’s desk. Clearly mulling things over. He looked at my dad, “You go”

“Me?” My dad asked nervously.

“Yes, you. Make sure the Princep is happy and there may be a new job waiting for you.”

I pulled at my dad's tunic trying to get my dad’s attention.

My dad looked at me confused.

“Dad,” I whispered, “He’s setting you up. He knows he’s not safe so he’s sending you down there. Say no.”

I was a little panicky, so I don’t think I convincingly pulled off the five-year-old routine. If my dad was any less nervous, he probably would have noticed. But my dad couldn't listen to sense at that moment. He was sweating, nervous about the change in plan and added responsibility. Nervous about the fickle princep. Nervous about the Pharaoh. Terrified of both but not more than his boss standing in front of him, glaring. Waiting impatiently for my dad to comply. He looked at his boss and nodded his head. I could see a flicker of relief in Fris’ eyes. My dad’s hands shook as he opened the tower door and walked down the steps.

I could not let my dad do this alone. I had to process the situation as I held my dad's hand and we walked down the spiral staircase inside the cramped tower. I squeezed my dad’s hand tightly. He looked at me and in my best 4 year old voice said, “You got this Dad.”

Waiting downstairs was the Princep. He was standing on the other side of the door on the Bronze Ring. The Princep was an older man with a gray beard that covered his entire lower face. He had clearly brought out his best duds to meet the Pharaoh. Every finger on his hands were covered in ornate rings and his fur was from a pattern of an animal I couldn’t recognize. He had a wild look in his eye and did not immediately process my father.

Timu let go of my hand, took to his knee and bowed.

“My Lord, Sir Fris has sent me here to greet the Pharaoh.”

The princep sized up my father rather quickly. He shook his head rapidly in tiny little nods. gestured quickly with his hand for my dad to get up and then scratched his beard pulling at it.

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“Rat Bastard Fris sent me the help. What a cock. Everything must go perfectly,” the princep said.

“It will, my Lord," my dad said getting up, his voice cracked as he attempted reassurance.

That was when his nebbish gaze turned to me. “Send him away. Everything must go perfectly.” he repeated again as if a robot.

My dad pointed at a spot next to the wall, huddled amongst the ravenous crowds, “Egan go stand exactly there and do not move until this whole affair is over.”

“But dad!” I started to say

“Now, son.”

I huffed but I did as I was told. There was a knock at the doors. My father's boss yelled down to the Duke and said that the Pharaoh was here. The Duke attempted a relaxed laugh and said “Well. then let them in! How dare you leave the good lord waiting?”

The boss signaled at the workers for the large gate doors to lift open.

The men at the bottom floor cranked the lever that pulled the gate. My father tried to leave and help but was beckoned by the princep to stay there. I could tell he was a total wreck. He was sweating out of his pores and his attempt to help looked more like an escape attempt. I was not faring much better. I’d found my spot on the wall but people were pushing and yelling. Getting on their hands and knees and praying. It was a madhouse. Was this what true power looked like?

The metal chains that pulled the door squeaked as they opened and the cavalry had cleared a path on the outside for the elephants to walk in. The bare-chested man halted his camel and hopped off of it. The sound of his footsteps landing with gravitas. He studied the crowd, manic and frenzied. His booming voice managed to puncture the crowd.

“THE PHARAOH IS OPENING HIS CARRIAGE TO GREET THE PRINCEP. IF ANYONE ACTS OUT OF LINE, THEN well, uh… We’ll kill you. And we DON’T WANT THAT, DO WE?!”

His screaming, and especially his muttering midway, did little to tame the crowd. Everyone was still throwing their hands up, yelling, chanting. Desperate to get a look at a god that walked the earth.

The Elephants walked ahead, clearing the way for the golem to drop to his knees and walk through the large gates. The bare-chested man gestured and the guards opened the carriage doors. The golem’s head turned into stone steps for the people inside to walk on. I tried to peer into the carriage but from this angle I could not. The person next to me was screaming the Pharaoh’s name, hoping they would be singled out as the most fervent believer in the crowd.

“Khufutu!!!” he yelled, “KhufutuUuu!!! Please bless me! Please, I have been cursed to toil my whole life! Bless me to rise up. If I were to be a slave to anyone it would be to you please, Pharaoh Khufutu!”

I covered my ears as his shrieking took place above me. As if that were not enough, a figure stepped out of the carriage. It was a man in green and red robes, shoulder pads, and stunning bracers on his forearms and shins. He looked powerful, but not like a pharaoh.

The shrieking man did not seem to notice. Blinded by his own need for the pharaoh’s approval, as soon as a figure came out, he could not control himself. He ran, ducking behind the cavalry and bounding blindly toward the carriage.

“Pharaoh Khufutu please!” He yelled as he approached, the large bare-chested man was fending off the crowd on the other side of the road. He could only turn and watch as the man ran toward the carriage.

“Hey!” He screamed.

The man approached the front of the carriage and before his head could turn and see what the Pharaoh looked like inside, his head came clean off his shoulders, sailing into the air and landing in front of my terrified father.

“Antholax, you really must keep the rabble out,” The man in the bracers said as he whipped the blood on the headless corpse’ tunic.

Antholax, the man with the axe still strapped to his back, was holding off five women at a time, gripping them all in his large wingspan, “Sorry, Peyat. He slipped through the cavalry." The man in the armored got up sheathed his bloodied sword.

What the fuck? I thought, I looked at the man’s head, mouth open, staring at my father. His expression had not even turned from excitement. It was still smiling as if it was about to meet the Pharaoh. How the hell was that robed guy that fast? I couldn’t even see the blade.

Antholax called up to the man on the elephant. “A little help here?”

“Pharaoh,” the man started, “It is now safe for you to come out.”

I watched the well-fed man step out of the carriage. He was shirtless but adorned with gold everywhere. Atop his head was a nemes. The striped head cloths you see on Pharaohs. And a postiche, a metal chin meant to make the wearer look godly. His presence caused the crowd to erupt even more. The man Antholax called Peyat stepped forward, speared the decapitated head with his sword and flicked it into the crowd. My dad and the princep both watched with the ease in which Peyat treated the corpse.

Pharaoh Khufutu stepped forward, waving at the people as they engaged in combined screaming. That was him. That was the guy. He was commanding their respect and he was just some shirtless guy, wearing nice clothes.

“Princep Manu,” Khufutu said, “you really shouldn’t have met me here with the riff raff. We should have met in your palace.”

Princep Manu let out a strange laugh, “You’re right, Pharaoh. I was so eager to see you.”

“And who, pray tell, is this?” The pharaoh asked, looking at Timu. Looking at my dad. My second dad but my dad still. He was meeting the pharaoh. This was his moment and he couldn't move an inch. Couldn’t look up. He kept staring at the spot the man’s head landed. His eyes didn’t move and no sound came out of his mouth.

“He is my head of security for the bronze wall.”

“Pleased to meet you. Now step out of our way.”

My dad didn’t move. He couldn't . They didn't know it during these times but I knew what was happening. I read a book on psychology when I was in college. Trying to impress this psych major. She was more impressed with Dirk Stevens’ ability to procure molly. Timu was dissociating. He wasn’t listening to what the princep and the Pharaoh were telling him because, in his mind, he was desperately trying to be somewhere else.

“Daddy!” I screamed, “Move! Daddy!”

The Pharaoh looked at him again, “Is your head of security a little slow?”

“Yes, sir. Sorry sir,” The princep said, whacking my dad upside the head.

My dad got whacked but still couldn't move, “Get out of here,” The princep whispered, “You don’t want to disobey the god-king.”

My dad tried to get out of the way. He tried to move one foot but it became jelly and he fell, his hands reaching out and bracing him for impact. He fell right into the blood pool left by the decapitated head. He looked at his hands horrified.

The Pharaoh stared at him and sighed, “You won’t miss him will you?” He asked the princep.

The princep looked at the pharaoh, terrified for his own life, “No, sir.”

“Good. Kill him.”