Lion Head Mesa twenty-ninth

Toula watched Senmut, eyes bright and filled with warmth. he was so wise—all that he did, for Akashingo! 
all must know of this mans deeds. that now he would seek to keep a mother from her children… there was no softness in her then, only anger that perhaps had been buried beneath the weight of one loss, and then another. grief had been heavy—now she tore herself out of it.
if her mother could see her then, perhaps she might be proud. 
before anything else, I must meet the woman of the Lake. only then would her full blessing be delivered—she must be certain that these resources were worth expending, though in her heart… she felt it was. still, she wanted a measure of the woman. wanted to be sure that she was not sent from the Lake as a means to destroy one of the last things she knew that she loved, other than the Gods and Akashingo itself.
she was no fighter—his request was fair. she would stay, of course, and pray; what else could she do? 
she did not think then of what Pharaoh surely would have. Pharaoh had been intended to be the teeth, while she remained the heart. this beating thing, though, hardened some to endure this trial without her. 
but surely she would want this march against Khaba? and she could not allow her absence, without knowing it’s reason, to have such a result. Toula breathed, considering things.