Lion Head Mesa (ap) I wish you nothing but the gentle kiss of yellow piss.

Her Mazoi closed in.

Pharoah’s comand buzzed through her skull. It was not so long ago Germanicus had told her she was her own woman. That she served no more beneath tyrants. Pharoah looked at her, the former serf, and handed her the whip.

Some part of her screamed. Another roiled in the pleasure of it, that sickening rush of holding power over someone else. Pharoah held the heart, but Sabah held the rest, it was Sabah who's orders the Mazoi would follow when Pharoah’s gaze was cast away from them back to pretty things and ruling. She was their mercy, the altar on which this man could have fallen. Maybe it would have helped. She was favored by Satsu, Germanicus said it himself.

But. Oh there was that but. But but but, such a funny word, but. But Sabah held no mercy tonight. All that was there was the screams of the serf-girl who once was, and the rush of power to the commander who is. Sabah watched as Arsenio and Shoko lunged, and she moved around them, testing the waters, a shark drunk on blood water.

She was smart enough to recognize a power play when she saw it. She just hoped there was to be no gravedigger for the ills brought to them.