Lion Head Mesa eightieth

before dawn had senmut returned to the palace. now his rich voice could be heard singing the morning prayers to Ra.

the priest was exhausted and streaked with the dirty of travel. he had sent away his assemblage to break apart and to rest, but he did not allow himself such luxury.

first he called for a bath, where he was scrubbed and massaged and scraped, until his red fur gleamed. precious oils next, unguents created along the river; eyes blackened;

he sought an audience with pharaoh @Toula and her Consort @Rashepses, sending word of his intentions before he ever left the wellspring. there was even a message for @Racharra: prepare yourself and be ready to greet royalty when you are called.

now he strode through the corridors for that arched red room and the thrones within in. the Horus Throne belonged to pharaoh. would rashepses sit where the queens had once held their place?

when he had been announced, the priest bowed low, forehead to the floor until he was bid otherwise. "divine Ruler. great Consort. i have recently returned from the lake. zharille is indeed there. i prevailed upon the woman to understand her untenable position. she asks for a sire from akashingo to provide her with children, so she may claim the land properly, as our vassal."

it was not what had been ordered. but senmut was no soldier, and now twice he had gone to that place. let another return to cut her down, if that was what this chamber decided.

"it may be that the nebet racharra could be suited more amiably as the wife to a military captain," senmut suggested, for they were headed to blows if zharille did not have all she desired. it may solve the lingering problem of mereo as well.

dressed, now, in the splendor of Pharaoh, Toula sat sphinx-like on the Horus Throne. talk of her Nebets womb donor arose, though she was pleased to hear of the woman's change of heart. no doubt the Erpa-Ha caused her to see the error of her ways! as far as children went... she considered sires. none of noble blood—the foreign savage woman was not worth such, not since she shunned the idea of them and her daughter. 
her mind turned to the then-unwed crocodile. to the Medjay, as well. but she wanted their choice in the matter. before coming to any such decision, she asked him, and you trust her? would it not be easiest to depose of her, and place another in her stead? she peered to her husband, wondering what he might think. and as the Nebet was brought up, her eyes again found the priest-turned-prince.
perhaps Racharra might like a strong husband such as this. the decision would be the girls. I presume you know of one, comes her voice, questioning—she thought fondly of Germanicus, though he had been absent for some time. he was no captain, but perhaps he had introduced Senmut to one. Toula, in the space of time she awaited his answer, then thought of the man @Makono had traveled to and from Mereo with. 
if he did not, she may. but where was he now...?

He ascended the steps to the consort’s throne, a biting reminder of his own abdications as a man. Yet poised beside his regal Pharaoh, faceted and dignified like a gem catching the light, the Horus throne was sculpted for Her own seat, and Semer-wati could scarcely deem his position a failure. There was no break in the flat line of his mouth, but in his eyes shone all the warmth and pride he held for his wife. His attention was turned then to Erpa-Ha’s account, sitting as an obelisk to Toula’s sphinx.

“A sire?” the scoff raised from his throat, rumbling in the intimacy of the chamber, “So in a year’s time she’ll have an army to do her bidding? Any man could bastardize a womb. It must be marriage. And there will be conditions. The children must receive a formal education in our suzerain.”

Zharille’s absence spoke for her, for would not a leader of their vassal wish to negotiate her own terms? Still, his trust in his wife– and now that of the Erpa-Ha, was implicit. He looked to her for her mind; her voice which held ultimate authority in this room. There were men who would comply with such an arrangement. The priest being one of them, another his own Kingsguard, @Mesen-ka.

He favored the idea of a military captain for the nebet’s hand, and looked for Senmut’s elaboration.

something stirs racharra's gut as she sits in the royal hall. the pillars feel as though they may fall at any moment. and a morbid thought tells her she wishes they would.

prepare to speak to the royals.

now she understands why that message carried such a strange urgency, like a weapon concealed by silk. racharra pricks her ears when senmut speaks. her mother, proving her suspicions of only wanting to have more ogre children in her image and in her lake. the girl fights to maintain focus. then the direction of her bethroathal. a millitary captain? she fights to keep a brow from furrowing. did any of the moon villages have those? any that are her age?

Her Majesty speaks after the erpa-ha. short and eloquent, as anymore would just be to flaunt her power. racharra has trust that Pharoah would always keep the nebet's happiness in mind. toula would railroad and try to guide the girl rather than force her but sometimes even that felt too much for the nebet.

her lover speaks next. the Semer-wati is the coldest thing in the red palace. one touch could give someone frostbite even during the hottest of summer days. not that she'd know, racharra had only seen him once. but that one meeting the prince did not leave the then-cub with a good impression.
he's unamused with the idea of zharille's plan. instead he suggests that the beastlings that come from her litter with the poor sod that marries her be raised in akashingo's image. no way. bile forms in the back of her throat at just the thought, and this time she feels no guilt for it.

nothing is said, yet, of her bethroathal to a military man by neither. both royals instead ask for further details when racharra couldn't, and now she looks to erpa-ha.

"i would prefer she was deposed and another put in her place, Divine One," the scarlet prince agreed, canting his head toward the modulated voice of pharaoh. "but i have brought her words here for your consideration. why throw aside a sword before it has been used in battle?"

they were jeweled together, a pair of perfectly matched scarabs, which glittered in the shafts of pure godlight shining down through the high-vaulted crimson ceiling.

"at present there are no husbands, great Consort. i believe her match must be one of military might," removing pointedly himself! — "as she has offered herself as matron to our army. she will resist your conditions. present her with a strong man and she may offer no tooth. she is a feral woman, this zharille."

to the glittering obsidian power of rashepses; "i had thought, if we were to replace zharille, that mesen-ka might be your consideration for our nebet." he would be away upon campaign, senmut supposed, sparing racharra the muddy, miseried trek of a soldier's wife for another year at least.

"but then i considered moreover that these remnants of mereo might still be about, and in the absence of the roman, could not another of his officers be married to the girl? there, then, would your foundations be solidified. this search will take time, however, and meanwhile the lake sits waiting."

his shoulders were straight before them. "in my mind, we must choose: does zharille merit our negotiations? racharra does not want to rule. shall we place then a reluctant ruler upon disputed land, and the land in dispute by one she knows?" senmut paused. "i am no man of military stratagem. i am food for the gods. but surely the gods would not pluck a child from the mud of a lake only to fling her back into it when she has grown almost to a woman of exceeding worth who can command far more than that outpost."

mother against daughter, it seemed. racharra was dedicated to akashingo, but she did not have her mother's want to claim and to build. zharille appeared to loathe their kingdom, but with their blood born in her camp, and reared properly as her first children had been — was this a gamble they wanted to take? was searching for the remnants of mereo worth anything?

"the hemet nazli attended your lordly sister, makono, Divine One, when she went to train in mereo. perhaps we might speak with her. she may have an idea of where the higher officers went when mereo fell. i will make new overtures to the moon village, and seek about them for a prince. their ways might be more acceptable to our guest upon greatwater, though i will keep the nebet first in mind."

another pause. "before her future is chosen, Divine One, Gilded Consort, i would ask that you allow the young noble to speak for herself. her aims have changed, but there is much in her that wishes to bring honor to akashingo and the Red Land. her words are worth what they have earned in her expedition, and more."

because a dull sword is an ineffective one, she answered promptly, the response one drilled into her in the military lessons she now sat through as Pharaoh. but that was in the wrong hands, anyway—Toula was well aware that even dull swords had their purpose. but was this Zharille’s? 
her anger with the woman was for the Nebet. not for the exchange she knew nothing of—but that she had returned, and had not come to Akashingo to check in on her. and so Toula was under the assumption that they had not reunited at all—that the woman should not be a mother at all any longer, 
and so she had no wish to provide her a seed. the only reason she did not entirely disregard Zharille and what she could provide was for the daughter Toula herself had gained from the woman, however unintentional. and as the Nebet was again brought up, the Pharaoh peered to her. 
I would have her meet them, and decide for herself. it would aid us greatly, Nebet, but you will not be voiceless in the choosing of the man that you marry. and in that time, we can think on what is right and best for the Lake. it was a shame that the royal girl wanted no part of it, but she could understand wanting to be separated entirely from the one that had only created her. Racharra could be Lady of any land, not only the Lake. 
her daughter of the Red Sands would create her own legacy. a better one—as Toula did. but Toula understood the task at hand could feel overwhelming, and so she only aided the girl in narrowing it down. she looked to Senmut. find any of his remaining captains—they may be called into service, and if Mesen-Ka is to lead the way they should know him. enlist the warriors of the moonwolves—perhaps one among them is a suitable wolf for her to consider.
and as to Senmut's final sentiment: the Nebet may speak. she will always have a voice, and I also grant her the opportunity to choose. I too was given this blessing, and I think Akashingo better for it, she hummed, peering sidelong to her husband now with a smile. each of his words rang in her heart—and she said to all present so all would know she concurred, if we elect to keep her in place, he is right. the woman has been too fickle. there must be one tether so that if she leaves, there is another to place in her stead. the woman can choose if it is her husband, or an heir. but the heir must also have time to be among us, to be given the same chance and choice as the litter that came before her. 
that largely because the woman had abandoned the first, in the end. the Nebet had been given a softer place to land. why should her siblings not be granted the same privilege? but she looked to the girl now, listening, wondering what she might think of it all. Toula spoke softer now, share with us your thoughts, if you would, her voice encouraging.

“Feral woman,” Rashepses’ cheek twitched, “a sweet way to say noncompliant. If she refuses to heed her superiors now, she will refuse to heed them later, when muscle and teeth are at her behest. If she will not bend to our terms then Pharaoh’s choice to cut her from the lake must be upheld. She will build nothing upon the shores of Great Water.” They would not trust an army to employ upon a flimsy rapport with the lake woman. But it was Senmut’s following suggestion that had the consort pitching a restive paw atop the handrest of his dais.

He did not like the idea of hunting down crumbs for Mereo. The former Imperator had years of training. He was a diplomat, a ranger, and a master. No less would helm the fleet. Yet their mazoi were few and needed at the respective palaces of Akashingo and Muat-riya, and should the time come, his own man would be tasked with safekeeping the royal children. The obsidian king’s eyes were hard but gave a nod of accordance. They would look to the moonwolves and those remnants of the first army. But if none were found suitable, if no man came to ownership, Rashepses knew it was he himself who must take up rank as general.

He did not want it. He had found his eternal flame and promised to never part from her. But a voice ghosted in his ear, the holy writ of the ethereal Pharaoh who commanded what must be done. Amid the musing, his eyes found his wife’s.

When the girl stepped forward to speak, Rashepses’ face grew hard. Thus far the lake had succeeded only in spawning problems for Akashingo. The nebet who first refused her province, then a sound proposal for marriage, was no exception. He waited to hear if this young noblewoman had anything of value to add.

the royals speak of marriage as a chain. what does it mean then of their marriage; who chains who? what does it mean for her own.
several options are flung out from the erpa-ha, notably one with mesen-ka. she knows little about the sphinx, but presumes he must have some nobility in his heart to have put up with rashepses for so long. or perhaps he is a little dog. toula is agreeable as ever, but her consort remains a glacier that refuses to melt. his glare threatens to burn holes in her instead.

left to stir her thoughts no longer, racharra stands when she is called upon. the auburn brows of the nebet furrow. her pursed lips tremble as they muster the courage to voice all that had been stirring.
a sigh. only after does she begin.

Divine One, Gilded Consort. i only wish the best for akashingo. however, i do not aim to compromise on my own life either — i believe both of these are feasible. my Pharoah it is you who told me i have much to give, and now i would like to decide who it is i give it to. she is glad the divine Pharoah agrees with her in that it will be racharra who shall choose. the problem is who.

as for who i seek, i will admit that i am not sure. love cannot be rushed. marigold gaze dances back and forth between the pair. shining gems underneath holy sunlight. exemplars of akashingo's beauty. and perhaps their love is just as beautiful, but racharra cannot see it.

but i will find the most desirable man. i'll consider the suggestions given to me; i plan to return to the moon village by the sea very soon now that our alliance has been established. i wish to travel to its sister villages too. as for the soldiers, i'll look to them too. then, i will test the hearts of the men presented, see if they are worthy of akashingo's glory. i trust i'll be able to chose, but it will take time. i only ask of you, my Pharoah and Semer-wati, that you may put that trust in me as well.

a slight pause as the rest of her thoughts are collected and gathered.

as for zharille, i do see value in at least trying to find a sire for her. she is strong, formidable, that cannot be denied. strength like that is neccessary to build a stronger army. however i doubt how effective marrying her off will be, the woman cares little for diplomacy.
her mother is elusive, but if not even maternal instinct can keep her from staying with her children then what would change if she were wedded? a chain like that only affects those who see it. 
but the ways of greatwater lake run deep within the palace of akashingo. it is not just i who was rescued from it, after all. she thinks of the jodai. if anything, we stand as proof as to why it should be persued. i suggest that for as long as zharille is expecting, she must stay within the palace or under the watchful eye of someone equal her stature so that she will not run with the children. they'll be weaned within akashingo's walls, and their first days will be spent there. teach them of akashingo and greatwater's strength. perhaps then they'll make strong warriors and competent diplomats.
the dark nebet bows her head to finalize her statement before returning to her seat. only now does she realize the sweat that clings to her brow.

pharaoh quipped. her Consort remained implacable, and for a moment the pair of them were a stone bulwark overlaid with soft mosses and gentle flowering vines. they complimented one another. they complemented one another. the gods and pharaoh herself had chosen truly, for he comported himself as a god while deferring to the only true deity among them.

rashepses had spoken of a son. senmut wondered how many royal princes might come to compete against one another over the years, and while he did hope to see it, so many warring dynasties might strain the line even further than ramesses had. 

it appeared as though zharille might be supplanted, though senmut stepped back, away, toward the left of the chamber as racharra was bid to come forth.

in a moment of what surely was great panic, the youthful nebet stood elegant beneath the smouldering gold of the Consort's eyes and the all-knowing tealgems which glimmered in the matchless face of pharaoh. senmut was filled with pride, for her nobility, for her glowing poise, for the words she spoke in defense of that most precious thing: love.

this too, was it not an edict of their pharaoh, that affection be sought in pairings henceforth from her first moment of gilded power?

it was still unfair that such a burden fall to racharra, and its unfairness could be mitigated by dissolving his own resistance to a marriage which might benefit the kingdom. high priest he was first, prince second, but this was in his estimation of self. senmut was waiting, for what he did not know; waiting, even as the expanse of religious responsibilities and travel demands parted them often. no longer was the erpa-ha demanded here; he could be upon the road as often as it was dictated.

he wished to go. he longed to be close.

it appeared as though two separate expeditions might be undertaken, for surely racharra did not want the dour priest as a follower as she courted the certain appeal of those wild men in the great bear land. 

the suggestion of the nebet for zharille was harsher than he had envisioned: a move to imprison the woman with velvet and ensure her children did not bond first with their mother's obstinate ferocity. but perhaps senmut was only thinking in the bleakest terms. these potential lives would be blood to racharra as well. it was suitable that she should want them safe at hand.

he did not speak. his royals would determine the length of time that the cold woman upon the cold lake had to keep her claim, and all else that must be done. and in no small way did the priest desire to travel with racharra, not only knowing the hearts of men but wishing to support her as an emissary to mereo, should their paths also cross.

the erpa-ha waited, though should the nebet look toward him, she would see the faintest fire of encouragement there behind his courtly facade.

it was pride that shone through Toula's gaze as she regarded the Nebet, who was, as Toula saw her then, all Akashingo. her wit, her cleverness, revealed to all so that none could think otherwise. Pharaoh herself had granted her the time to search, and the choice. it was a blessing few others would be afforded—her own children among them. but, Toula was curious to witness the results of permitting this for the girl. 
to see if indeed it could bring some greater glory. Toula believed in the Nebet, and she placed a gentle paw upon her husbands own, looking to him with an abundance of love in her gemstone gaze. Toula trusted her choice in him, and had been given the ability to decide. I have seen how one choice can bring glory and greatness to a kingdom. today, I reaffirm that I give you some of this power. as Akashingo has trusted me, I trust you. understand the weight of this, Toula expressed, now looking to the Nebet, for picking the wrong match for yourself will effect all Nebet seeking to wed, with the hope to choose for themselves. 
it would no longer be done, if no advantage could be found. that was the great responsibility of a lord, and a lady: to marry for Kingdom, for country, for the betterment of their family and its own position. the right choice could make eventual Queen's and King's out of them, and what a privilege that would be to have that within their family line! 
Toula considered, then, her position on Zharille. and it was not that Toula did not see merit in her blood nor people—from them, Toula had acquired two of the most precious things to her. indeed, she saw not what could be possible, but what was. Toula first answered that with, know that I understand it's worth. it is why I wish for it to be remade—I know what brilliance can come from it. I look upon such now, an earnest smile, then, for Racharra, her Nebet, she must understand some aspect of diplomacy, given what she has spoken to our Erpa-Ha—but this much... we need not decide here and now. I will think on your words, and the severity of them only furthered Toula's belief that in the girls blood now was the redsands of Akashingo. surely Senmut and Rashepses heard it, too! she fell quiet only to allow for the voice of her husband or the Prince to share their thoughts on the matter, if there were any more to be said today. and after that, 
go now, prepare for your journey. you will not go alone, and you have some time yet before your departure—but there are lessons you must first attend before your going, she advised. she raised a paw toward the Erpa-Ha, a clear indicator that he should remain once Racharra had gone.

Semer-wati’s eyes were shadowed beneath the heft of his brow, gentling only once when he felt his wife’s paw flush against his own.

The rightful heir to the lake was reared with no lack of good counsel between Senmut and Toula. But as she advanced into womanhood she naively believed she would do as she pleased and not as she was bid.

His tenderhearted wife offered choice; in men, in position, likening the nebet’s espousal to their own. But the girl’s blood was plain. She was no Goddess. There was no prophecy to her name— and now, no legacy for her cubs.

Rashepses would not endorse women’s dreams of fancy over what was pragmatic for their kingdom, but the girl had not yet bled. The length of two seasons would find the noble girl properly betrothed.

“Go forth, Lady Racharra, and remember this: a nebet embodies her Pharaoh and country. Your husband will serve the red palace. Test the suitor’s heart against your own as it pleases you. But upon return, they will be tested against the crown of Akashingo.”

Rashepses looked over the priest-prince sitting silent, “Erpa-ha will arrange your travel.”

as toula gives her blessings, her consort begrudgingly follows. but the ever keen nebet watches as the light of Ra is blocked out from his eyes. a rejection of god. she tears her gaze away with a bow; thank you. and she whisks away as she is dismissed.

it was only he who disapproved. she could see it in the way he glowered, though never dared speaking out in protest. he knew nothing of greatwater lake nor of those that came from it. it still bothered her though that this clueless consort is one of the three who would decide her fate.

returning to her chambers, racharra isn't sure if she entered more or less overwhelmed than now.

it was the purpose of nobility to bend to those royal. and it was the purpose of such princes as himself, and the efforts of pharaoh, to uplift this rank to its highest point. racharra did not dream higher for she did not think of her goals as cerebral. she wanted love, and for it she could not be faulted. love was the strongest opponent of objectivity. let her show now how she meant to balance the two.

to the hand of pharaoh, to the order of the Consort, to the emotional, elegant step of the nebet did senmut bow his head, until the sound of her retreat was heard no more.

only then did he straighten into the expectant silence.

pharaoh held clear hope and lovely support for racharra's aims. rashepses stood against the turn of tradition. both admirable.

the erpa-ha waited.

she did not watch the retreating form of Racharra, though listened to the fading sound of her steps. when there was nothing but for their breaths and the typical din of Muat Riya to be heard, Toula spoke again—words she had, in passing, spoken with already heard only by the ears of her husband. 
I do not wish for you to travel before Shmus end. I have need for you and the Hemet Nazli to preside over a fertility ritual, and she presumed he had knowledge of them! her gaze searched his own as she asked, will you speak to us of the ones that you know? 
Toula, ever pious, wanted to please the Gods—she knew that the man before her would know the way in which to best do so.

The matter of Zharille was tabled for now, and the worst of Semer-wati’s tempers had ebbed. When Toula spoke he gazed over her as an indulgent husband and found the edge of her ear with a reassuring kiss.

Pharaoh was young and the matter of her fertility waited on the bated breaths of every egyptian. The riverking awaited his royal sons and if doubts shadowed his mind they paled in comparison to the Gods who favored him.

Mystic traditions were left to women and priests. Rashepses would do his part and put his cubs in Toula as soon as she bloomed for him.

“Send word for the Sesh Tavina as well,” came his request of the Erpa-ha. The physician would be able to tell when his wife would come into her heat.

unsure whether or not he was frustrated or relieved not to be traveling again, senmut dipped his head to hide the shock and consternation which threatened to take away his composure.

it occured to him that rashepses was stormy-browed for he had reason to be so. each day that their pharaoh did not enter her season might call his ability as her Consort into question, as if the riverprince held the reins of such a gate.

but still; the angst of a royal womb as of yet not flowering with heirs was a specific pressure which no else might ever bear.

nazli, nazli, nazli! did pharaoh know?

his heart raced.

"the serpent rises," senmut said of the mighty waterbody which fed the green land around akashingo and slithered down toward muat-riya. "if it does not rise, we will not eat. a festival should celebrate the serpent as well as the god Min."

"for a length of four days only fish should be eaten, with the roe dedicated to Min and kept solely for the tongues of pharaoh and Consort. on the fourth day, the High Priest acts as Min and the High Priestess as Iset. there is a prayer to be said, a dance to be performed. together they break a bundle of the gods'-herb," a common enough plant known as prickly lettuce. when snapped or peeled, the stems gave off a lewd, oozing white liquid, senmut explained, attempting to keep his features stilled. this moisture might be caught, collected, and applied to the belly of the divine Ruler, should she wish.

"the entire rite is carried out before the royal ones and their assemblage. when the song and dance reach their conclusion, the priest and priestess ah, find their own, great one," senmut said lightly. "there are others: the great sacrifices to the serpent itself, the running of the priest to bless one end of the river and then the other, the ablutions of pharaoh and Consort in the water themselves."

but he was quiet now, still surprised by the request made for his knowledge.