Lion Head Mesa incoming

Come dawn, he dressed in a blacktail mantle and went outside to walk along the outer walls of the mesa. A brisk spring wind was swirling through their battlements. It bathed his cheeks in crystals of sand and carried the scent of wild mare. He watched the fields below turn from blue to gold as light set upon the grassland. He wondered if in a few weeks time he’d be hunting jennet with the mazoi for his pregnant wife– if the priest’s rituals flowered her. He prayed to Taweret, then to Ra.

By sunrise he’d returned to the palace, passing the autumn coat of his favored man on the way to the throne room.

“With me, Sphinx,” the riverking commanded and swept up the steps to the hematite cathedra. He draped his arm one over the other and waited for the kingsguard to stand present before speaking again.

“How goes the search for your wife?”