Lion Head Mesa lacrimosus

germanicus returned ten days after his departure, but he did not seek crowfeather.

he told himself that the responsibilities he had given to his own sense of honor must come first.

the guard descended below the mesa and began to travel the stone courseways, where the summer's flowery scent still hung, though fainter now.

he searched for ramesses, but did not find him enthroned. instead it was the sick-room where the woman maggie lay.

germanicus cleared his throat at the doorway. "i have spoken with nyra. she will bring you a war, pharaoh."

pharaoh looked up from where he had bent coolly over the former beauty's low bed. she reeked of dried blood and the dusty bitterness of mixed herbs. nyra. "i had always expected it," the falcon murmured in response.
there was a long pause. the roman did not speak and nor did pharaoh, until, dripping from his lips as a polite venom; "you lay with maggie that evening, did you not?"
the eyes that fell to the soldier's face were cruel. they burned through crowfeather's herbal lotions and leafy remedies, by which he might not scar. he would not scar.
"they have lost their vassal state. their outpost. and i am not a fighting sort, roman."
pharaoh lifted himself gracefully up, away from maggie. "she will be scarred. ruined for the sort of company i wished to entertain here. i will reward her of course, but i feel that perhaps her final lover might do the same."

germanicus felt his heart grow cold by how glibly the royal tossed both talk of war and maggie into the proverbial pile of refuse.

for that same time he did not speak, only watched pharaoh simper and ooze around the barely breathing figure of the pale harlot.

the words shamed him, bringing to mind the stricken face of crowfeather. 

that the saints had lost akashingo was known. but pharaoh did not seem moved to defend it.

her final lover. at last the yellowglass eyes shifted with a brief and inscrutable stirring. "shall i bring another doctor?"

the room hung heavy with the fragrance of crowfeather. did the pharaoh not appreciate the work of the young healer?

"or do you mean that i should pay for your entertainments, pharaoh?"

ramesses laughed, lightly, humourlessly. at last he left the bed of the ravaged harlot behind and came to stand before the soldier. "it was intriguing to me that crowfeather should choose to stay in a house of pleasure rather than depart with you." 
"i asked myself why a man so young and beautiful should be so disheartened."
pharaoh tilted his pretty head to one side. "i wonder if your youthful little diversion might at last have felt the bite of jealousy."
he recalled how crowfeather had reacted to any mention of the imperator, and smiled. all that was necessary had been given to him, a spice-barge of the secrets promised by akashingo. pharaoh need only take what he assumed, and aim it in an archer's bow at the roman.
"i know what sort of pleasures might be had by soldiers upon a hard and fatal battlefront. as the emperor's chosen, surely you have seen what of which i speak. perhaps you know it yourself."
pharaoh sought to crush the soldier with the growing weight of his gaze. "you spoke with a known enemy of akashingo on behalf of this mesa. and so i will collect a debt from you for your insubordination. you know this word, do you not, germanicus?"
the name was half-cut with derision.

germanicus felt ice began to limn him the longer that pharaoh struck at the eagle and sought to place bait before his gaze. it was a test, the ugly game of courtier and royal. 

"i owe nothing to akashingo. i spoke for the others yet in these lands. they too will feel the crush of whatever struggle is had here."

he loathed the sound of pharaoh speaking about crowfeather. the egyptian's voice was an unwanted caress. 

the shame chipped inexorably at him. "if you wish another physician for her, i will bring one."

germanicus would not be moved or swayed by the velvet son of jackals.

"i have passed on the information of how the saints struck your land. her name. her face. and i have given the news of your wedding soon to come. i am no longer bound here."

but his mind was filled with thoughts of the shadow. had crowfeather truly suffered?

the imperator did not rise to his challenges.
"and did she believe you, with akashingo's scent clinging to your coat?"
he was determined. "you spoke as a guest of satsu and myself, without my approval. now you reflect upon me, and now for a time, you will answer to me."
at last ramesses relented with a soft, mysterious smile. he returned to maggie's side, the pad of his paws gently audible. 
"i would not insult your ganymede by sending him away. he is skilled."
pharaoh bent across maggie to inspect the grave scarring along her skull, just visible above the edge of the cobwebs.
"i want him for my physician. satsu wants him for a wedding guest." crowfeather now had more choices than the dour horrid roman fouling this chamber with the stink of travel.
"but he wants only you. and where you go, he will go."
ramesses wet his lips, one, two tricks of the tongue. "where will that be, imperator?"
a velveteen, unfurling smile. "for if you stay here, you will surely die."

germanicus said nothing.

his eyes fell to maggie. the remembered, muted pleasure of her body burned through him in a recollection he did not want.

pharaoh spoke long-winded words but said little. germanicus felt the sting of anger again to hear crowfeather so intended for barter on ramesses' tongue. 

that crowfeather would not remain here relieved him. that the shadow wished to follow him still unnerved germanicus. 

"you would do well to ask yourself the same, pharaoh. where will you go when akashingo has fallen?"

he was beholden in no way to this scarlet pile of rubble.

"is there no flesh that has a price for you, egyptian?" the man asked at last, allowing his voice a steeled edge.

Amun frowned.
ramesses sighed.
"i expect i will be dead." his voice was light, pondering. "satsu as well. the rest of them, wounded. scattered."
"i have not seen battle but from afar, and it is truly hideous."
"and i have no soldiers to call up. no scourge with which i might whip my enemy." an marble brow arched. "when you delivered your messages, did you tell these barbarian leaders that you yourself did not intend to fight with them?"
pharaoh flicked his gaze toward the roman. "leave, if you desire. the boy will follow. i will tell satsu she should gird herself for war."

how the pharaoh worked upon the heart as well as the mind! 

satsu was not a fighter. ramesses himself would not lift a languid paw to protect his betrothed.

crowfeather cared for the young woman who was to be queen of this brothel, whatever royalty that might afford her.

the man drew his breath noiselessly. 

no side would be chosen, but had he not done that before nyra? 

"the leaders of brecheliant and the caldera know that i will seek to keep war from touching them."

maggie again filled his eyes. how pitiful she seemed now, without the flaring and wintry vibrance that had at last been his undoing.

he must speak to crowfeather, and yet he knew he must.

"i will give you my answer in the days to come." 

with that germanicus turned, legs churning in a march that carried him away from the sickbed and the animosity of pharaoh.

ramesses said nothing as the roman spoke his cold indignation.
his gaze existed now only for the torn flesh at maggie's scalp. he swallowed, fearing that his own lacerations might be so deep. so ruinous.
the bitch should die for that in itself, let alone what she had done to his harlot. 
the soldier departed. pharaoh let himself inch closer, reaching to touch her but halting at the last with a vague disgust.
and still ramesses remained, long after germanicus had gone off, staring, staring, staring at the destroyed features of the sharp little woman who had given him many sorts of pleasure, not all of the flesh.
and rage began to fill him.