A blistering southern sun battered his sweat drenched, bare back. That was commonplace in the Sank’Ta Province. His sandy umber skin glistened between the blotches of clingy ochre clay. Prince Zaki enjoyed every enthralled eye glued to his magnificence. It wasn’t often a crowd gathered around the sparring rings to watch Tamers in training. Mazin must have enjoyed the eyes when it was his turn, but Zaki was sure now their numbers had doubled. Each one of them fed strength to his wavering stamina. Their awed muttering swarmed into his Tamer ears all at once, all of them complimentary, a few were rather forward. New challengers leapt over the low red clay walls of the ring, and Zaki focused.
Amira and Hazim adjusted their hardened training leathers, doing their final stretches. Zaki rolled his left wrist, grimacing at the throbbing welt. The shattered remnants of his wooden shield lay strewn behind him. He squeezed the leather grip of his script strengthened sparring wood, oozing his own sweat from it. A rare breeze pierced the humidity to swirl the loose soil, chilling the beads of sweat running down his chest.
Hazim hardened into a wall, his wooden tower shield at the fore, and a blunt polearm peaking over it. Zaki caught a hint of his hazel eyes. Clean shaved, square headed and lanky. His legs an immovable foundation, bulging with capability.
Amira gripped her own script strengthened wood blade with both hands. Her onyx eyes sparkled when kissed by sunlight. Chestnut curls formed a bulbous bunch atop her head. She was slightly dark than the prince, sporting a few scars on her umber flesh.
Prince Zaki drew a deep breath, inhaling the hush of anticipation from the crowd. Then he charged.
The raucous cheer that followed faded to his ears as he darted for Amira. She feigned surprise as Hazim buckled down, but spun away just as Hazim’s wall jumped in his way. Zaki parried the polearm’s jab and battered his shoulder into the wooden shield.
Hazim hammered down at Zaki’s sandals with the shield, though Zaki skipped away. Forced into a backwards roll when Amira hacked at him, staining his back with more ochre clay. She was on him before he fully recovered. Zaki deflected her the moment he returned to his feet, chipping his wooden blade. Splinters drifted in the wind as he crouched and swept her leg, clawing a handful of soil as well.
Hazim jabbed at his thigh while Amira recovered her balance, but the prince snagged the polearm behind his knee. His roll forward snapped the blunted tip, then he flung the handful of soil at Amira. She swatted it away with whirlwind reflexed, yet Zaki stole Hazim’s reach and snatched what remained of his polearm. The prince swung for Hazim’s unprotected head, Amira saved him and forced Zaki to parry the blow from behind instead.
He punched Hazim, his knuckles throbbed after suffering the man’s sharp jawline. Still, it bought him time to escape the pinch on him, yanking away Hazim’s shield as well. The flimsy wood withered against the give and take between them, crumbling to the dusty ground. Zaki pirouetted away from his opponents until he stood at a safe distance.
The skirmish drained almost all of his strength. No doubt it was only a flash of action for the Unblessed eyes watching. A stink of impatience emanated from the closest amongst the crowd, burning his chest. Zaki’s eyes never left Amira and Hazim, despite the pause.
Enough games.
Hazim twirled his shortened staff with both hands when Amira charged first. Dust burst in their wake when Hazim followed suit. Zaki tossed what remained of his sparring blade at Amira. His desperation widened her eyes. Zaki caught Hazim’s polearm mid swing and punched through the wood, directing his splintered knuckles at his exposed neck.
Hazim wheezed for air on his knees. It might have been the prince’s weaker left, but the effect was enough. A whoosh from behind warned him too late, Zaki howled when Amira’s attack smacked into the back of his thigh. He spun around with his chest set ablaze, catching the remnants of her blade. Rage tightened its grip on him, this time he punched with his favoured right. Amira’s forearm bent the wrong way, making a nauseating snap. She fed him little more than a grunt through gritted teeth. He hammered home his win by stopping her chest. Amira thundered to the ground and a hush fell over the crowd once again.
The cheer was late to follow, but Zaki basked in it anyway. He raised his arms and soaked in the adoration, eyes shut, chest heaving for air. It soured when a sudden scent of disappointment trickled into his nose. Zaki dropped his arms and spun towards the source of it at the edge of the ring.
Kumkani Lihle glared at him with a pipe in his mouth. His hardened handsomeness soon softened into reserved pride when he joined the gentle applause of the crowd. Prince Zaki’s shoulders slumped when he considered his enraged destruction. Hazim still wheezed on all fours, while Amira sat up cradling her ruined arm close to her chest, jaw clenched.
“Well fought,” Zaki muttered to Amira, standing over her. He offered his weaker hand.
“I was no match,” Amira winced after he aided her to her feet. He patted her shoulder before moving on to Hazim.
“Nothing broken?”
“No… prince, a few prickling splinters but nothing more.”
Hazim wore a charismatic smile after his strained words. Coupled with his height and muscular stature, the Tamer was quite the soldier. Though none of that kept his eyes away from the blue and purple outline of his knuckles forming on Hazim’s neck.
“Good.”
Zaki nodded, then scaled the low ringing clay wall and snatched his ragged linen shirt. It was browner than egg shell white now, thanks to the dust. He didn’t care, for his teeth chattered in spite of the blazing sun above. Much of the crowd dispersed, shuffling back towards the white stone palace nearby. Others, Tamers, flexed their limbs beside their towering golden Sinha. The Felines’ golden eyes fell on him when their Tamers nodded their respect at their prince. Zaki recognised some Gebs, Tefnuts and many Isis amongst them. None of the family heads would grace the sparring rings for such an informal event, unfortunately.
“That was excessive,” Kumkani Lihle said behind him.
A cloud of honeyweed swarmed around him, filling his own nose with sweetness. He turned to face the kumkani, scratching at the coarse fibres of his shirt.
“I won, didn’t I?”
The kumkani puffed a wispy grey ball of smoke from his lips. A lean man who displayed his chest freely, save for a pair of sunset sashes draping each shoulder. Beads trickled against each other on his neck as a breeze passed them. Orange to match his sunny appearance.
“Impressive yes, but excessive.”
“In a true fight, excessiveness might be the only thing that keeps me from death,” Zaki smirked.
A solitary black eyebrow rose on the kumkani’s face. He fiddled with the tufted of hair decorating his perfect chin, then grinned.
“You should run along now; I don’t want your mother blaming me for being late for tonight.”
The sun’s glow caressed the kumkani’s face, accentuating faint scars littering his chiselled, dark umber landscape. Zaki heard talk they were proof of the kumkani’s prowess in lovemaking. He once assumed them to be battle scars, then he learned of the man’s many spouses. Which reminded the prince, a warning he meant to give to the famed, dual wielding kumkani of the Leopard Clan.
“My mother is married, Kumkani.”
“Is that so?”
“I’ve seen you two, others have seen you two, and,”
“You watch your mother?” The kumkani shuddered with a smirk. “What a strange thing to confess to.”
Zaki snarled.
“Don’t worry boy, she is the first to remind me.”
“Good, here I was thinking I would have to fight you for my mother’s honour.”
“Now that is a serious threat, especially from you.”
They chuckled together. Zaki gazed up at the clear blue sky and watched the first signs of the sun’s crawl into the west.
“Embellish my victory to her, will you?”
“Right after I win her from your father.”
“Very funny!”
Zaki waved as he darted away, ignoring the few nobles waiting for his attention with eager eyes. He nodded at them as he jogged towards a side entrance of the pale stone palace. Enormous gold bricks interrupted the whiteness of the palace’s exterior.
The prince slowed at the entrance, eyeing the palace guard beside it. Her script strengthened, scaled plate glimmered gold. A Sinha was carved into the centre of her chest, to match the helm in the shape of a roaring Sinha over her head. The black and gold cape of her order kissed her ankles from behind. She clutched a decorated ikem shield in one hand and a leaf tipped spear in the other, both littered by strengthening script as well. A plain one handed khopesh rested on her hip, completing her imposing appearance, despite standing a head shorter than him.
She nodded when he passed, expression passive. Zaki replied in kind, detecting a hint of admiration from her scent. Her hazel-green eyes were forgotten once his perspiring skin was spared the searing sun. The crystalline interior cooled him, then his own stink irritated his nose, doubtless even Unblessed could smell him.
Prince Zaki widened his strides, avoiding the grey servants rushing back and forth in the name of their duties. Candles encased in beautiful bronze possessed flames that flickered at his speed. After passing through two doubled doors, he entered the great hall. A vast space of pristine marble. Wide columns soared high to hold up the glass ceiling. Open windows near the peak housed song birds, chirping their everlasting music from their marbled nests without fail. Low hanging torches flickered with crackling flames, matching the sunset shining through the windows.
He eyed the seven thrones before hurrying across into another passageway, nodding at another scaled palace guard. Servants jumped out of his path, almost spilling their trays of goblets and clay jugs filled with frothy beer. Maroon wine swirled within crystal decanters. Flowers drowned the whiff of raisin bread and roasted pepper chicken from his nose. Just as he arrived at a garden courtyard.
Evergreen plants bloomed eternal within the pockets of Sanctuary sprouting within the palace. A rainbow array of flowers coloured the grey stonework surrounding these mystical gardens. Zaki enjoyed the gentle and constant beckoning pull from them. His fine hairs rose when he passed.
The passageways widened. He darted by towering Felines, golden eyed Sinha with ochre-gold fur. A few lean Cali Cituva and spotted Cituva lounged about as well. Prince Zaki flew up a flight of stairs, until Atum Ra banners decorated the grey stonework. All in Da’s colours, a golden jagged sun glowing in an azure sky. One day they would be his colours, Pharaoh Zaki Atum Ra. He smiled at the thought.
Tapestries depicting the pharaohs of old filled his vision, many standing beside their Tamed Sinha, dark ones as well. Red eyed and onyx furred, yellow-gold eyed and sunny ochre furred, some maned, others bald. The line of Ramses until Ramses V, all golden faced and imposing.
Imhotep the Black, Ishtar the Mother of Lions, Layla of the Shadows, visionaries in their own right. Nabila the Untouched, Nadiyya the Humble, pharaohs who reigned with success without being Tamers. All Atum Ra, everyone worth living up to.
Prince Zaki burst into his room after slapping the palace guard’s ikem shield outside. An aroma of citrus greeted him in the passageway leading up to it. Once inside, the fruity scent exploded in his nose. It was a vast space, admittedly, though nothing compared to his parents. They grey stone commonplace within the palace faded into sunny yellow.
Piss yellow, Mazin once said. Zaki smirked at his brother’s old mockery.
Each piece of furniture was of rich darkwood. Every side table possessed a flat stone tablet for a surface. To match the overgrown dining table, family sized, though rarely used by more than himself and Mazin together.
Zaki kicked off his sandals and dragged his dusty feet along the thick rugs scattered all over his floor. The soft fabric caressed his soles and dug between his toes. His open shutters allowed a picturesque sunset to bleed through, bursting in from the wide-open balcony as well. Where he enjoyed watching over Bil’Faridh and the people below. Buckets of steaming water swarmed his brass bath behind a flimsy partition. He undressed in a blink.
Zaki jumped awake and sloshed his now lukewarm bathwater. His tensed limbs had long been soothed by the heat, and a layer of filth floated on the surface. The sunset was dim, and so was his room, but it was an approaching presence that awoke him. Not the sound of footsteps, not even his Tamer senses could hear someone that far away, no it was something deeper.
An air of darkness, a hint of black ash, if darkness possessed a scent, that’s what his nose imagined. Zaki scrubbed with his coarse washcloth in a hurry, until the water turned murky. By the time Mazin’s sandals echoed in a nearby passageway, the water chilled him.
The sunset ended. Moon and star light eked their silvery glow through his windows. Not that it made any difference for his Tamer eyes, the Unblessed might have struggled to see beyond their outstretched arms.
“You’re still bathing?” Mazin said with a yawn, entering his room without a fuss.
“I actually pushed myself.”
Zaki watched his twin brother light nearby candles with his back towards him, sensing his eyes rolling.
“Ma has us matching like we’re five,” Mazin groaned, who took to studying the folded clothes on the bed.
His brother wore a sparkling onyx vest. A ruby sun glimmered on his back, and black silks wrapped around his waist and thighs to form a skirt. Exposing his muscular legs until the sandals.
“At least she didn’t send a tailor this time.”
“Nor demand we paint our faces, washing it off is a hassle I’m glad to avoid tonight.”
Zaki snorted as he slipped out of his bath and dried himself. Mazin shifted away from his bed and hovered over one of the side tables, eyeing the wine. Zaki dressed before Mazin finished his first glass. Indeed, they did match, save for their colours. Instead of black, his vest and skirt were sparkling ochre, with a golden sun on his back. As well as a bronze circlet squeezing his forehead.
“This one’s sweet, they always give you the sweet ones.” Mazin smacked his lips after draining a second cup. Zaki ruffled the dampness from his short dark curls.
“Do you want a glass?”
“Slow down Mazin, you…” Zaki cut himself off. His smile died when he noticed a slash of black silk wrapped over Mazin’s left eye.
“No.”
“It’s only for tonight.”
“Do you want to suggest to others that it shames you? Take it off.”
“They already think it does. Besides, it comforts me, and spares them their own fear.”
Zaki sniffed deceit beneath his brother’s perfumed scent, though he didn’t push him.
“So, what if they fear you?”
“Easy for you to say, with your golden eye.”
Zaki stood beside his brother before the tall mirror. Mazin eventually unravelled the silk from his head and revealed a bloody orb for an eye. It glowed brighter than any ruby Zaki had ever seen, and purer. Dark Felines were rare in the capital, after they became omens of ill fortune to the masses. Superstitious nonsense from the Unblessed who didn’t understand things.
He admired his own unusual eye. Golden, to match the yellow-gold of the more common Felines, and his right instead of Mazin’s left. It often inspired awe from others, he smelled it on them. They were the princes with eyes of Felines, Ma never failed to remind them how great a blessing they were from the Great Beast. No one knew why or how, though everyone’s ignorance didn’t bother him.
“Do you think Ma invited the Inkosi and Kumkani?”
“What do you think?” Zaki scoffed at Mazin’s question, taking the offered wine glass. “She would invite the entire city if she could.”
He sauntered towards the balcony after his first sip, with Mazin scurrying after him.
Bil’Faridh glowed with life below. Lanterns and torches blazed in the humid night. The hustle of the day existed in every district save for one. Even in the noble quarter, closer to the palace, vibrantly dressed nobles departed their bright and decorated homes in droves. Towards the hundred steps that led up into the palace.
Distant music and celebration reached his ears. Beer flowed and pipe weed filled the air, songs were drummed and chimed, though their singing was barely a whisper to him. From the most westerly leopard district on his left, to the most easterly district to his right. There was joy to be shared.
Silk streamers of sky blue draped the obelisks and stone towers of the lion district. To the left of the cheetah, where sandy stonework mingled with colourful hieroglyphs amongst the wealthiest homes. Clear blue ponds with the greenest of lilies seemed serene amongst the jovial merrymakers nearby. Reeds sprouted sharp and green around the water, unwavering against the humidity of the Sank’Ta Province. Bazaars were long closed, but the streets were still packed.
“Looks fun, doesn’t it?” Zaki asked after a sip.
“Better than what awaits us in the hall.”
“I doubt we can sneak down there these days.”
“The eyepatches might give us away even.”
“Remember when Melina battered that gang after that rat accused you of breaking his sister’s arm?”
“Asim and Farah.”
Zaki frowned at Mazin. His brother shrugged sheepishly, and a trickle of shame leaked from his perfumed scent.
“I heard he left for An’Shar.”
“Keeping track of your victims hey?” Zaki snorted.
Mazin dipped his head.
“Beast Mazin, we were barely nine then, and you didn’t do it.”
“Didn’t I? My mask slipped off; I saw her eyes widen at me before she lost her footing. What would you call that?”
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
“I’d call her a clumsy fool, lucky to only break her arm. If Asim wasn’t such a hot-headed fool, Ma might have been generous when she found out. It would have spared Asim and his friends from such an embarrassing fight.”
“Melina was eleven, two years since the Essence sparked within her.”
“And days had passed since it sparked in us, all three of us untrained. Seven of them still lost to three children.”
Urchins, the lot of them, Zaki smirked at the recollection.
Seven adults would struggle to contain one Tamer, child or not, let alone three. They had no chance.
Mazin’s eyes wandered while Zaki’s mind shifted onto Melina. He gazed beyond the towering walls of Bil’Faridh towards the shadowed horizon. She would be twenty-one soon. Weeks away from ending her shift on the northern border of the Gaur Province in the northeast. Zaki counted the days, entertaining the nobles of the Lion Clan, hoping he would join families with them wore on him. Melina was the one he chose; ma knew as much. Her return would finally put an end to their pestering.
“Do you miss her?” Mazin asked.
His brother’s mismatched eyes focused on the only quiet district, with district guards patrolling.
“She should be here.”
“Da wouldn’t like that.”
“I don’t care, he won’t even be here himself tonight.”
“You don’t know that. He could be standing beside ma in the great hall at this moment.” It sounded as if Mazin was trying to convince himself.
Zaki knew he wouldn’t be there, though it still hurt. An eighteenth birthday was no small thing, especially for a Tamer. Soon after, he would bond and become a clan Tamer. Hopefully he would be there for that.
“At least the Kumkani will be there.”
“What are you staring at?” Zaki asked, and Mazin jumped. He drained his wine glass and watched his brother’s eyes remain fixed on the dark district west of the lion.
Paper lanterns glowed a dull yellow. Hung from street poles on either side of black cobblestone roads. Black tiled roofs and eggshell white paper walls made up most of the abandoned homes. Darkwood beams and columns made for picturesque exteriors, to support the dark stone and paper. Wondrous gardens of yellow and lavender wisteria trees dominated the deep green grass of wealthy homes. Pebble filled ponds sparsely populated the district parks, where rare ghost trees shaded wooden benches. Their silky white ribbons for leaves fluttered in the suffocating breeze. The tiger district was beautiful, Zaki had to admit.
“Doesn’t it make you mournful?”
“What?”
“The tiger district Zaki.”
“Why?”
“Oh, don’t be like that. Civil war or not, the city is made lesser by the departure of the Tigers who lived here.”
“Are you drunk?” Mazin’s shoulders slumped. “Their departure was for their own good, can you imagine the brawls that would occur if they remained? The temptation to spy for the emperor would be great, chaos would ensue. Besides, it’s all the emperor’s fault, he’s the one who started all of it.”
“I know, it’s just… how would you react if your spouse died? Rash action is understandable, considering.”
It was Zaki’s turn to roll his eyes.
“Who cares why a madman acts rashly? He made grave accusations then broke the peace unprovoked, only to spend the last few years cowering within Bag’Jagaal. This war would end with his surrender, but he would rather isolate his Tigers and send them to their death for his pride.”
“It’s just a thought, you know, I’m not defending him.”
“You’ve held a lot of strange thoughts recently.”
Mazin grunted, and Zaki plotted his opening.
“I have a few strange thoughts of my own.”
“Like?”
“Like what you’re getting up to with Nabila Osiris.”
Mazin turned to him wide eyed.
“Wh… what?”
Got you.
“I mean, I understand. At her age she isn’t likely to bear any more children.”
“It isn’t like that.”
“But she is an Osiris, the Osiris.”
“She’s just a friend!” Mazin squeezed his wine glass into pieces. Thankfully it was empty. He wiped the shards from his hand and softened. “Why do you do this? You always do this to me. Am I not allowed kindness from others?”
“I’m sure she’s very kind to you.”
Mazin turned away, and Zaki grimaced.
“I’m only trying to protect you. We may be twins but I am older. Ma said it was so, and so I must watch over you.”
“Only by a few minutes. I’m not a child.”
“You’re not, we’re not, which is why I watch. You’re naïve with such matters, and I know you’ve suffered before. Remember what I always tell you, weeds within a field of thorns are not roses.”
Mazin’s gloom deepened, his gazed lowered further.
“I know there’s no bad blood between Atum Ra and Osiris these days. Great grandda Farouk’s Vivada with Kamal Osiris was a century ago.”
“Two centuries ago,” Mazin corrected.
“Exactly, but caution is never a bad thing. I mean, Nabila is rather comely for her age. You can be carefree when you bed…”
“Okay, okay I get it,” Mazin chuckled.
Their balcony chat ended when a grey servant neared. Mazin and Zaki dabbed their necks with lavender sweetness just before the servant gave them the call. Zaki’s stomach growled when they left.
Torches struggled between brightening and dimming when they passed them. Servants muttered well wishes when they bowed, and palace guards nodded. They floated down to the ground floor and once again Zaki enjoyed the tingle of Sanctuary’s gardens. A few were occupied, moans of pleasure reached him, as well as laughter and haughty tales. Someone even dared to sing a ballad, he grimaced when he recognised its connection to Grand Uncle Heydar.
A palace guard marched towards them. Zaki eyed her wondrous lamellar armour as she neared. Raven black pieces etched with blood red strengthening script; a red eyed dark Bagha carved into the centre of her chest. Her black and gold cape flowed behind her lengthy strides. She gripped a ge spear in her left hand, with green strengthening script decorating the flat of the blade. More of the script marked the smooth and silk wrapped wooden handle also. His eyes dropped to the plain and thin black katana on her left waist.
The Tiger nodded at them, wearing a snarling half masked helm. Her grassy eyes glimmered within it at Mazin, while Zaki managed a weak smile in reply. His mismatched eyes followed her when she passed them, fixed on her cap, and unease filled him.
“What is it?” Mazin sensed his trepidation, turning back to face him a little way ahead.
“Nothing.”
“Feeling unsafe?”
“Don’t mock me,” Zaki growled.
“I could carve my heart out and eat it before a palace guard would harm any of us.”
Palace guards were neutral on all clan matters, their duty demanded nothing more than protecting the inhabitants of the palace. At least, that was what everyone said, they weren’t exactly forthcoming about their duty. An order consisting solely of Tamers, yet they failed to stop assassins.
“Tell that to the emperor’s consort.”
“They didn’t kill her.”
“But they failed their duty.”
Mazin’s mouth opened and closed a few times, before he frowned.
“You were just sour at me for empathising with the emperor?”
“I couldn’t care less about him, it was just a thought,” Zaki waved him away and strode ahead. This time Mazin paused behind him with a strange expression. “Come on, Ma might starve us for being late.”
A swarm of buzzing chatter hit them after a quick jog. Long before the side door to the great hall appeared. The chatter became a din, Zaki feared Ma did invite the entire city. Another palace guard stood beside the closed doors, a Lion. In onyx scales, with a red eyed Sinha roaring in the centre of his chest. He nodded at Mazin first, before acknowledging Zaki.
“Ready?” Mazin asked when they paused.
“Let’s give them who they want.”
The blazing warmth of torchlight washed over them as they entered the crystalline hall. Pale marble burned with sunny fire. Each column glowed, silvery moon and starlight twinkled through the windows near the ceiling. It was all bright for his Tamer eyes.
An unending assortment of coloured silks, well-fitting linens, wools and patches of cloth swarmed before him. All worn by nobles with glittering skin, whether by gold or red dust. Some pasted clay on their cheeks. White painted dots wrapped around eyes and decorated brows. He saw bronze jewellery, silver jewellery, rare gold and a rainbow collection of gems.
Everyone turned towards them, those seated at long tables ringing the edge of the hall, or the others mingling in the spacious centre. Mazin gasped, then held his breath. There weren’t nearly as many people as the noise suggested.
“The men of the moment have arrived!”
A woman with skin the colour of smooth bark, glittered by gold, announced on the seven thrones. Kohl extended her lashes, curling into wings at her temples. A golden circlet wrapped her forehead over her shoulder length curls. Darkened by oils, and sporting golden baubles hanging off the tips, chiming together with every minor moment she made. An amulet rested on her chest, a gaudy jewel that fought between pale amber and red. Sky blue silks draped her body, with golden suns stitched all over it. Rings wrapped around her fingers and bangles squeezed her forearms.
Pharaoh Nadiyya Aten looked young enough to be their sister, let alone their mother.
“Eighteen at the rising of the Great Beast’s eye today, such fine men they have become,” Ma continued. “Soon they will join the Tamer ranks of the Lion Clan and earn a storied place amongst the mighty pharaohs of old.”
A servant stood before them with wineglasses. Mazin snatched his with a trembling word of thanks, while Zaki’s eyes never left Ma. She raised her own glass, and everyone else in the hall followed her lead.
“To Mazin and Zaki, may Atum Ra never end!”
“Mazin and Zaki!”
Zaki smiled, despite the bland scents emanating from most of them. Mazin drained his wine in one go and the buzz resumed as the nobles pretended to not yearn for their attention. Mazin clung to his side while Zaki watched Ma descend the thrones.
Kumkani Lihle took her hand at the main table on the foot of the thrones. She laughed when he kissed it. The drowning chatter from the nobles stifled his eavesdropping, though he made his assumptions. Ma tapped his chest and sat down, the kumkani’s eyes remained fixed on her. Inkosi Musa to Ma’s left wore a passive expression, as he always did.
“That is your mother, boy!”
Zaki jumped.
Harsh words danced within his mind, but the source of them eluded him. Sparse shrieks and gasps drew his attention, where a pathway opened for an enormous Sinha to pass. Its golden eyes brightened amongst its sienna gold fur. A man of pale gold wrapped around the beast’s head, and darkened to orange ochre at the tips. Which dragged along the marble floor.
“Think better of her.”
Pride’s words remained harsh, despite the softened tone. The beast tongue was gruff regardless. A bubble grew in the back of his mind when he focused on the Tamed Sinha’s golden eyes.
“She is married.” Zaki sent his reply.
“You think she does not know?”
Pride’s amusement trickled into Zaki’s mind. The Sinha stood a head and a half taller than him on all fours, gargantuan even by Sinha standards. It nodded at Mazin, whatever words they shared stayed unheard to him. Pride then sauntered away through a side door, slapping Mazin in the face with his furred tail.
Zaki barged through the crowd when the kumkani sat next to Ma. It was Pride’s mockery, or Da’s absence, that spurred him. Perhaps it was Kumkani Lihle not heeding his warning. The nobles parted from him and Mazin followed in his wake.
Ma and the kumkani rose together before he arrived at the table, smiling as if he didn’t catch them. Inkosi Musa rose late, but managed a low nod in respect.
“My babies,” Ma squealed.
“Ma!” Mazin and Zaki complained as one.
She rushed around the table and squeezed their cheeks. Forced to her toes by the act. It was easy to forget she once led Lions into battle atop Pride.
“Babies no more to others, but forever to me.”
Mazin’s head dropped as he mumbled his blushes. Zaki did his best to fight his own, forcing his glare to linger on her.
“I must punish you two a little first. The food and gifts will wait. Before you two become drunk, I need mingling, happy princes.”
Mazin’s reluctance was long forgotten as he nodded and strode into the sea of sycophants. Zaki was the sought-after Atum Ra, but even the second son was worth catching.
“What now, baby?” Ma asked.
“You’re married.”
“By the Beast boy, you are worse than your father. I’m not sleeping with the man. It mystifies me why you don’t accuse him of an affair, he’s the absent one at this moment.”
“Ma!”
“What? Even if I was, what were you going to do about it? I’m damned no matter what I do, so stop your worrying about things out of your control, and focus on what I’ve asked.”
She caressed his cheek and adjusted his hair. There was no deceit on her scent, but a spark of mourning surprised him, before it vanished beneath her perfume. Ma nudged him into the crowd before he could argue.
Eagerness swarmed him the moment he entered the sea of leeches. A few of them occupied each other. Daeron Geb spoke with his children, or cousins, he didn’t know. They sowed their seeds in many fields. Mazin was already in the clutches of Nabila Osiris, no doubt bearing his heart to her in their darkened corner. Zaki couldn’t bear to watch his brother feed his leg into the Osiris snare.
“Prince Zaki.”
The boldest of the nobles was the most beautiful. Zaki almost gave away his interest the moment his eyes landed on the man.
“Gazsi,” Zaki replied.
Chiselled by the Great Beast itself, skin dark ombre and flawless. Complimented by greying stubble. His hazel eyes were flecked with glimmering green, amongst high cheekbones and a proportionate nose. Zaki shook himself.
“It is a pleasure.”
“The pleasure is mine. It has been some time since I last attended such a grand spectacle. My children have relayed their appreciation, but never have their words lived up to what I see now.”
Gazsi’s eyes floated towards Ma over Zaki’s shoulders.
“The pharaoh glows.”
“She would enjoy hearing such a compliment from your lips,” it came out harsher than he intended. Gazsi missed it though, luckily, he wasn’t a Tamer.
A giggling child squealed behind him, running away from someone.
“I may, I will. Speaking of beauty prince, might I introduce you to my daughter,” Gazsi said with an arm indicating behind himself, towards the chaos of the infant chased by a woman.
Zaki smirked, then nodded when Gazsi didn’t realise what occurred. The man’s scent bubbled with anger.
“Jazmin!”
The chasing woman skid to a halt, snatching up the little laughing girl. If the Beast chiselled Gazsi, then the Beast moulded Jazmin with delicate hands. She did her best to hide it however, wearing plain cloth. Jazmin’s shaved head suited her better than it did her father. Her face was unpainted, yet still put everyone else to shame. Long jet-black lashes matched her onyx eyes. Nose petite, lips brown and full. Shades darker than her father.
Jazmin placed the girl on her hip and stepped towards them, snarling at her father. Other than the bronze rings on her toes and fingers, she wore a golden tyet around her neck. She snatched his breath when her eyes returned to him. Zaki fought to calm his heart, she was an obvious Tamer, judging by those reflexes.
“Prince, allow me to,”
“Da, please, I can speak for myself.”
“As you wish,” Gazsi said through gritted teeth. “Excuse me Prince Zaki, I will speak with the pharaoh.”
“Good luck Gazsi.”
Zaki faced Jazmin with a calm heart, hiding his scent from her. The girl sitting on her hip cowered into Jazmin’s chest after taking one look at him. Jazmin tilted her head at him, after eyeing him from head to toe.
“Well?” Zaki asked.
“Jazmin Isis, third born of the great Gazsi Isis,” her bow was insincere, yet Zaki enjoyed it.
“Do you wish for me to introduce myself as well?”
She sucked her teeth at him. No scent escaped her, save for the aroma of lavender soap.
“Do you always use elders’ names when you speak to them?”
“What is an elder to a prince?”
The child squirmed in her arms, then dared a second glance at him. She focused on his golden eye and scrunched her face. Zaki pulled the same face back to her, until she whimpered and buried her face back into Jazmin.
“Your sister?” Zaki asked.
“You can do better than that prince,” she snorted. “I’m sure gossip has reached your ear about me; this palace loves to whisper about everyone but themselves.”
“Gossip tends to fade from my mind,” he caught a flicker at the edge of Jazmin’s lips. “How old is she?”
“Ayla baby, tell the prince how old you are,” Zaki remarked at her tone change.
Ayla shook her head. Jazmin’s chuckled surprised him.
“She’s two, soon to be three.”
“A shy one, isn’t she?”
“I’d like to think she’s an excellent judge of character.”
Zaki smirked.
“The pharaoh is wondrous; my father was right.”
“Without you here she might have glowed the brightest.” Jazmin’s lips twitched again. “Your father said you and your siblings frequent my mother’s soirees, yet I cannot recall seeing you before.”
“I’ve been too busy being a mother. These soirees are games I was never interested in playing. This back and forth bores me, yet we are loyal sycophants, biting each other to win your attention. Did you need a mother on top of everyone else fawning over you as well?”
“Some might call it duty.”
“Ah yes, duty,” another moment to be taken aback by Jazmin.
Zaki glanced at Mazin when Jazmin fell silent. The boy was swaying, and Nabila’s hands were forward.
“Am I boring you?”
“I haven’t seen you at the fighting rings either.”
Jazmin’s eyes narrowed.
“I’m an archivist.”
“Seems a waste of your Tamer abilities.”
“Most Tamers have a gift for violence, I am not one of them.”
Zaki wrapped his hands behind his back, pinching himself.
“Ma, less go,” Ayla said as squirmed again.
“Let us go, child please do not waste my lessons with her.” Jazmin softened again; the confrontation vanished. “Forgive me prince, my daughter has given me orders.”
“Of course. It was a pleasure to speak with you.”
“A shame my daughter didn’t think the same,” Jazmin bowed, sincerely this time.
He watched her glide away with Ayla peeking over her shoulder at him. The child stuck out her tongue and Zaki laughed aloud. Jazmin’s hips fought through the plain cloth dress; it bounced off her bottom with every stride. Her voice was etched into his mind along with her beauty.
Prince Zaki cleared his throat and spun back around, diving back into the sea of leeches.