Two Eyes Cenote Hourglass

@Tanutamani

The breath of battle filled the palatial blue halls. Silence pierced. The captain lay in death's clutches. The hebsut, nowhere to be found.  Semer-wati had only grown more assured in these violent hours. Change must come to Muat-riya.

With his own embittered groan Rashepses staggered against the cool cenote walls, pooling water across a blood-smeared maw.

Thanks for starting! <3

Tension snapped through Akashingo; it wove beneath the assassin's fur as thick as the muggy heat before the lightning strike. How unlike the calm he had left. The palace hummed with the empty noise of nothing now, as if the pack waited with a breath caught in a collective throat.

This time, Amani did not slink around. Acknowledging the first guard he met, they exchanged hushed words, enough for the them to know Tanutamani had returned, and enough for Amani to know where he might find Rashepses to report.

He found him by the water, masked by blood. His nostrils flared.

Semer-wati, the assassin settled like a statue beyond Rashepses' grasp, his gaze searching the man, your fellahin no longer sing from the baths, your guards eyes are glazed with death, narrowed eyes shifted from the stain on Rashepses' face to the man's gilded eyes, I have seen this before.

The mazoi slipped to his side like wine on water, the red of his eyes also seeped into the king.

“It is war, Amani,” he grimaced, paw dragging roughly across the snout. “Take note. This happens when a servant girl is left to do the work of a man.” His lips curled into a sneer.

“All will soon be remedied.” Another splash of water, more blood to trickle upon the gray stone.

His eyes flicked ahead. “I trust you had no troubles abroad. You are needed here, in the cenote.”

War.

Not unheard of for a kingdom like theirs. As unwelcome as all the lives he'd ever claimed.

He tipped his narrowed gaze at the mention of the servant, feeling his own beginnings crawling like a scarab under his skin. Yet it was clear the order of things had long been ruptured.

This would never have happened in Ta-senet.

I trust they will be, Amani murmured. He blinked, slow and serpentine, all names are but a breath the south wind buries in her sands by night. And so she buried those you whispered many moons ago... you are needed here, in the cenote.

He leaned in closer so the even the sun could not read the movement of his lips. No, only one, have you more to whisper now?

There was nothing so conspicuous between them as clapped backs or gills of mead. The King only leveled a look to the silent killer brimming with solar praise, one that promised gilded finery and women in turn for secrecy.

Amani; a last apparatus of Ta-senet. Kept untold and safe from his Toula. Rashepses’ lips twitched.

“Your mantle is two-fold. There are many eyes upon the cenote, Amani. Protect its borders. Incidences will be funneled to the captain when he wakes. Pharaoh and I mean to name him regent of Muat-riya and I expect there will be discourse to follow. Endorse him.”

Semer-wati wrung his dark paws then slid forward; deeper into their attenuated symposium. “I am not well loved among the inhabitants. I need eyes and ears where mine cannot go. There are rats within the walls. Report your findings to me.” He met the piercing of wine eyes with a mirrored stare.

Names had yet been whispered.