Lion Head Mesa Voice of man

Rashepses nodded and loosened his shoulders which had grown tense as if for battle. He was not a man who made tawdry threats. Akashingo had no choice but to expand. His world had become fixated on Toula and when– if– she would come into season. Would their little godlings be scampering up and down the palace halls this summer? Or would Semer-wati be forced to find a lesser-noble to bear his sons?

When such a time came Rashepses would see their safety. Akashingo must be impenetrable. They could not afford a second tragedy such as the one that bloodied the palace of Muat-riya. It left Rashepses singularity motivated– they needed an army, but their Imperator had seemingly waned from existence.

“Plans for Mereo will continue in the absence of the roman,” he passed a contemplative tongue over his teeth. Senmut himself looked thoughtful. He was developing confidence in the Erpa-ha, who proved he would carry out his directives. It was perhaps within the succor of this notion that he revealed, “One day, it will be my son who will oversee the legion.” The riverking’s mouth roused into an excited smile.

“Do priests yearn for fatherhood, Prince Senmut?”