Luneshale Pass emotional torture

Rashepses was not a political mind. He had always dreaded the drudgery of his father’s morning assize and the war room bickerings. Ironic then that he should find himself now in competition that would elevate him to the role of Pharaoh. But he had his own ideas. He had seen how kingdoms fell and he understood assembling his keys would be critical for success; as the master of two kingdoms, as well for the wealth of the regime.

Perhaps this was fresh in his mind as Zaahira sought his presence and he beckoned her forward, to join him and his men in a conversation of the pass, that which was provisional for the Queen’s coming. The troops were making quick progress, the outpost was claimed, temporary dugouts served as den spaces and the water source, while meager, was sufficient. 

There remained topics left to discuss: diplomacy with neighboring settlements and which direction to take their next excursion, but the riverprince released his men to speak first with the Akashingo mazoi.

“Zaahira, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” His look did not forget the infraction on the day of his arrival but he remained receptive of her word.