a cold snap carried through the steppes. every stone, stunted tree, and shrub was coated in wintry frost which glittered coldly against a warmless morning sun.
shoko moved carefully between the frosted rungs of flatstone. more than once he nearly slipped, his breath rising in sharp exhales each time as he regained his footing.
Cold fog crept across the redstone and painted everything in a sheen of grey.
Arsenio did not see Shoko when he began his journey across the steppes. His mind was upon Tamar – always Tamar. He searched for the queen’s favorite meal. It was really an excuse for him to leave the mesa and work his body until his mind was silent. The Greek man wanted only to return, to find his falling leaf and take her to the caverns where he would dote upon her.
The shuffle of rocks drew his ears to a point. Arsenio peered through the fog and saw the shape of the other man. A soft fluttering of wind drew the scent to him, and he recognized it for what it was.
Shoko?
his rough voice broke the air.
the seaside man. or, as shoko thought him, more mercenary than hunter. surely those glittering eyes were colder than any seaside harbor from which they sprung.
he paused from his shuffling, peering though the mist to find the bonfire pelt. come to bring me breakfast again?
he gamely smiled, propping down the stone so he might come closer.
The mercenary sneered, crinkling his muzzle.
While their first meeting had been a tense one, Arsenio was far more at ease without the women to tend to. Their hunt had proven that Shoko was nothing to worry about, at least nothing that would cause the Mazoi to believe he would prove a threat. The man seemed to be a loner, just like many others. Perhaps he had something to prove.
You’ve stayed near,
the Greek observed softly. The remnants of a smile lingered on his lips. We could feed you at Akashingo, you know. Give you a place of pleasure, as well.
At least, Arsenio assumed as much. The only pleasure he had gotten from the mesa had been in Tamar.
A strong man like yourself would be welcome as Mazoi.
it was true, shoko had not ventured very far. oncoming winter curbed his interest in much wandering. the food kept him too; there were many pickings to be had if he stayed quiet long enough.
his ears turned as an invitation left arsenio’s mouth. not just the promise of a full belly, but pleasure too. shoko wondered what type of man arsenio saw in him. or were all men just that easily kept?
he considered this quietly. what kind of pleasure? and what is a mazoi?
All kinds,
Arsenio answered, his voice solemn.
The ice of his eyes lingered on Shoko’s face for a few moments, searching the other man’s features with interest. The intensity of that stare broke with a wry and toothy grin.
For those who want it. The Pharaoh’s pleasures are not forced on any.
Not on any but the Fellahin. The thought soured him, fading his smile. Arsenio did wonder what kind of man Shoko was. He wished that he had more opportunity to see him evolve, to see what thoughts rested beyond the honey color of his eyes, or the sharpness of his tongue.
The Mazoi are just men with jobs. Hunters and misthofóros. You are fine enough as a hunter, but you could be more.
The auburn wolf shrugged lightly, casting a glance from the corners of his eyes.
all kinds was a vague answer, but to a man like shoko - who had weathered many ports and seen many things - all kinds was subtly inclusive.
there were two things which made shoko’s heart move. the first was good food, and the second was good women. if being a mazoi earned him these things, perhaps his place was in akashingo. and if he continued to enjoy these things, he might find himself a perennial member rather than a passerby. for one thing about shoko was true: he went where he was handsomely paid.
the pharaoh. was that woman with you his?
he meant satsu; tamar might have been a background prop to shoko, for all her quietness during their hunt.
Tamar, who hunted with us, is Fellahin. She is… the personal maid to the queen.
Arsenio watched Shoko closely, to be certain that he did not speak of his falling leaf.
Satsu is the queen. She is the one who waited behind while we hunted.
The mercenary smiled softly, a thought forming in his mind. He did not know if it would amount to anything, but he enjoyed the chaos it would cause within the mesa’s ranks. For, now that he gazed upon the man’s frame, Shoko was not altogether difficult to look at. When the loner spoke, it was with careful words. Arsenio believed that he was intelligent, guarded, and he liked that about the sienna loner.
I do not know if their relationship is built on love or is merely political. I should like to see you test it,
the auburn man laughed.
not for the first time did shoko feel the cold of those icy eyes appraise him. were he female he would take it as a compliment. as a male, he thought he recognized it as a mano-a-mano appraisal.
there were worse things out there than being looked at. he missed the way arsenio’s eyes came to a point mentioning tamar: he was more interested in the woman tamar served.
i should like to test it.
shoko declared, more in compliment than seriousness. provided such thoughts don’t result in my beheading. who is this pharaoh, what does he do for you?
shoko’s last words were spoken carefully: he wished to know what kept arsenio loyal to this man, what made it all worth it to him to keep going.
because if arsenio found worth in this kingdom, chances are a selltooth like shoko might too.
So, he was a smart man. There was recognition in saying that he too would like to test the relationship between the lady Satsu and the spoiled king of Akashingo, only if it did not cost him his life, or likely his limbs. Arsenio believed this was fair, but he did not think that he could promise such things. Ramesses was a dangerous figure. The Greek only wanted him gone.
The Pharaoh does nothing for me,
the mercenary answered with a small smile. I was not hired by him, but he believes I serve him.
It would be a belief that would not waver as long as Arsenio guarded the man’s betrothed.
The auburn wolf believed it was time for a moment of honesty.
Akashingo is a place of dangerous games. If you can play them, you will be rewarded.
The ice of his eyes did not drop from the loner’s features.
I would like to see what you are made of, Shoko.
long ago, shoko had learned that reading between the lines was not just a benefit, but a life skill, and what was left unspoken was often more telling than what was laid plain upon the table. arsenio promised nothing if his safety. if anything, he seemed to promise the contrary.
shoko enjoyed high stakes games. he could be stupid and impulsive when he was excited. arsenio spoke of the pharaohs impression he was there to serve; this prompted shoko to wonder just what arsenio’s angle was.
he turned his head to the side, lips pulled thoughtfully. it sounds like i should meet this pharaoh. but first, what is your game, arsenio?
surely if the mercenary had his own angles to play, shoko might end up a pawn in his chess game.
Shoko did not deny him, not outright.
The auburn wolf grinned and nodded his head in understanding. The sienna male would need to meet the Pharaoh. There would be no way that the queen’s guard would be permitted to bring outsiders into Akashingo, not without proper vetting. It was likely that Ramesses would be particularly watchful if it was known that Shoko was brought in on Arsenio’s suggestion.
The man wished to know what games the Greek played.
The mercenary shrugged his broad shoulders and chuckled warmly. When his eyes fixed on Shoko, they were alight with wariness. Arsenio felt that he and Shoko shared things, had lived similar lives, and he wanted to be sure that he could trust the hunter.
Ah, games are for boys. Men must be swift to adjust, ready to take what they want at any moment,
the auburn wolf answered in his rough voice. I am waiting for my moment.
Another smile swept across his features. Arsenio waved his tail to the other man.
Come, let us take you to Pharaoh.
i am waiting for my moment was all shoko needed to understand arsenio. he nodded in understanding, saying nothing.
it was perilous being the man that perched on the breadth of opportunity, and perilous even moreso for those that found themselves in that man's path. shoko made note to never anger arsenio - at least not deliberately.
"i look forward to meeting him." the selltooth quipped, following readily after the knife-eyed mazoi.