Lion Head Mesa ash

the man with the molten eyes and the dark face.

he had not come to be pharaoh's pleasure object.

she had listened to him speak of things she did not know and did not understand. like arsenio, he had been far. she wondered what words.

@Sihaya el-sayal. she felt that she understood his words. like sayf. like jawahir. like herself. and now him. the sunspots of the desert were gathering here.

tamar dragged a branch in her teeth through the hallway outside maggie's door; a bough of gilded and fragrant leaves. they broke from the twigs as she walked, leaving ovals of gold behind her.

Sihaya quickly learned that, for whatever reason, Crowfeather was not to be found in the Mesa. With his mission up in the air, the masked adder found many ways the preoccupy his time. The labyrinth of underground caves fascinated the half-breed, as did the culture of Akashingo.

Oh this day he followed a trail of breadcrumbs through the passages – golden leaves shed by the branch Tamar carried. Eventually, he caught up with the servant. He recognized her from his meeting with Satsu.

“What are you doing?” he asked with automaton curiosity, drawing nearer to the fine spun woman.

tamar had been whispering.

the sound of a voice broke her from it. she dropped the branch and whirled around.

it was him. the man who was not wolf but not servant. the queen had even given him a rank to say this. "mazoi," tamar murmured with a small bow. "we prepare to bury our dead. i am making a path so that her spirit might also leave the stone walls."

if she had been home, the steps would be: clockwise, counterclockwise, clockwise again, three rings of gold around a pyre.

but she was not home. tamar kept her pale eyes away from the burning of his own.

When Tamar startled, Sihaya barely moved. Not even a blink. He leaned forward, pushing into the woman’s space, and peered over her shoulder at the branch on the ground. “Hmm,” he hummed, intrigued. “We, Akashingo? …Or We, the Fellahin?” he asked in a drawling tone, wondering how intertwined Ramesses and Satsu were with their consorts. By the way Jawahir and Sayf acted, Sihaya wondered if was a tribal, cultural carryover from their homeland.

In either case, the ways were odd to the newcomer, who couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever attended a funeral. They weren’t common in Siahaedra.  But neither were consorts or slaves.

The leering orange of his gaze remained fixed on the branch, but a twitch of his nose smelled the lady’s perfume. He withdrew himself from her bubble with a steady movement and sat back to rest on his haunches.

tamar saw at once how this man was fire where arsenio was ice.

something in his eyes and the way he had no fear of coming close to her quailed the woman. she bowed herself, unsure of how to answer his questions.

this one was dangerous, she thought. he reminded her somehow of pharaoh.

"both," she finally decided, tones hushed in the red corridor.

The lady grew small before his very eyes, and Sihaya knew her at once to be a demure and pliable creature. “I see,” he said and extrapolated her reply to put the pieces together. At their first meeting, Satsu seemed disquieted that the mad queen, Akashingo’s enemy, had mortally wounded one of her own. This must mean that the Shabti and Pharaoh would mourn this loss, at least to some degree, along with the Fellahin.

He waited a moment for her to say anything more, but there was only silence between them.

“I am to choose a chamber,” he announced simply, “won’t you help me?” Though Sihaya posed it as a question, the hollow sound of his voice intoned there was only one answer. Darkness crept beneath his niceties.

dread and something else twisted inside tamar.

"yes, mazoi." she drew a breath and came to his side. "there are the alcoves, where — the upper ranks may choose a den. or the wellspring."

had she not seen jawahir there with a suitor? had not sayf entertained pharaoh in the same pools.

there was no hope in tamar that he would choose the former, and yet —

The wellspring.

A magical sounding locale and the place Jawahir attempted to seduce him towards, away from the dead Fellahin’s catacomb. Sihaya’s head rocked from side to side, as if he were weighing the options.

“The alcoves will do just fine,” he decided. The woman fell into step and they walked together along the smooth red stone corridor of the grand Mesa. Before long, they arrived at the many pitted caverns.

“Hmm, what to choose, what to choose…” he hemmed and hawed with pursed lips.

Sihaya turned to Tamar once again. “It would please me if you hand-picked one. I can tell you have good taste,” he complimented her -- but though there was a curve to his smile, there was no honesty in his eyes.

sihaya was not a kind man.

tamar stared at the networking of small apartments. one to the right had dark green foliage as a drapery over the front. she indicated this space with her muzzle.

fighting to keep the stiffness from her shoulders, tamar crossed the small step and pushed past the greening veil into the alcove.

she waited to hear his tread behind her.

As it was, the shrinking violet did choose one to Sihaya’s liking, evidenced by the way his features brightened. The Mazoi admired the privacy provided by the verdant foliage, not to mention its fresh smell, and followed the Fellahin into his new apartment.

He paused behind her. There was the bright sandy gold of her pelt and the curve of her hips… but after a moment of looking, the adder merely walked past to inspect a large slab of stone that would do well for a raised bed.

“This will do nicely.” Sihaya’s head turned to look at the red walls before his gaze set upon Tamar once again.

“You are dismissed,” he said pluckily. If she turned to go Sihaya would purposefully suck in a breath and interrupt her departure, exercising his control. “Oh – silly me, One last thing... I almost forgot I had a question for you, Tamar,” he said, taking a sphinx-like pose upon his new platform.

sihaya toyed with her.

tamar tried to drag the tension from herself. her muzzle dipped at the noble's dismissal, and she stepped away.

he tethered her to the floor with his next statement. the sound of her name in his mouth unnerved tamar. she turned a docile expression back toward him. "yes, mazoi?"

The woman obeyed, lured back like a fish on a line. Sihaya tucked his feet under him, tightening his posture. The effect he had on her was not lost on the adder, and he regarded her closely like a mad scientist would, rather than a wanting, hungry man.

“What do you believe to be Akashingo’s greatest weakness?” he asked. “I do hope you’ll be candid with me,” Sihaya added.

tamar felt herself snared. "the desires of men," she hissed.

suddenly frantic, she pulled free of sihaya and backed from his chambers, lowered in a bow until she passed through the hanging leaves.

the sound of her retreating footsteps felt far too loud in tamar's own ears.

let the mazoi punish her for this flight.