Nubia: You needn't start right away. We’re on our way to the inn, for now. If you see anyone you wish to speak with, inform me and I will escort you. I will also offer council. Remember, you are not alone in this, my young prince.
*Oddly, her words help to soothe the cold dread that had been tightening in his chest. That was right. He wasn’t alone. He had Nubia right there with him. If there was anyone else in the world other than himself that knew Amen and respected him the way he did, it was her. She cared for both of them. She would never steer him wrong or leave him to flounder, nor would she let Nkosi miss any hidden corruption or lies in someone he chose to speak to that might later taint Amen and the kingdom.
Assured, the prince nodded, a small smile gracing his lips before he squared his shoulders and strode with as much grace as his young body could muster in the direction that Nubia had indicated, her silent presence following close behind.
The inn wasn’t too far away and it didn’t take long for them to reach - a comfortable looking place that, while certainly not too the high quality that might have been offered if their true identities were known, it was cozy enough and the material of the sheets were soft and warm against night chilled skin. With a hot meal in his stomach, wrapped in snug blankets and cradled in Nubia’s arms, somehow the pressure of the task at hand no longer felt so crushing.
With Nubia at his side, he would be able to press on without falter. Tomorrow would be a new, brighter day.*
---
*Nkosi rose as Ra did, though not entirely without the odd grumbling. While he was still too young to be ladened with anywhere near the responsibilities of his elder brother or any of those who were escorting him - thus not used to being up so early - he was going to show how seriously he was taking his self appointed duty. He still didn’t enjoy getting up early, but it didn’t mean that he wasn’t seeing some interesting things. As Nubia had said, if he was going to find someone who could benefit his great brother, then he needed to actually know the people first. The people of the city were far different from those within his brother’s council. Undercover as he was, the people here weren’t even aware a member of the royal family was among them. With no bowing, scraping and simpering in an attempt to appeal to one of high station, Nkosi was able to see the people as they truly were, with no polite masks or brown nosing involved.
Thus, standing outside in the early morning light under the guise of a child running errands, Nkosi watched as the baazar came alive before his eyes. The scent of fresh food newly presented in the stalls, the calls of the stall owners enticing customers to buy, the murmur of those early rising patrons as they flowed around the stalls to get to their destination, not yet busy enough at this time to worry about pickpockets. The energies of the people were so varied and so very different from those he was used to it was honestly mesmerising how life just seemed to dwell in every crack and crevice within the town, even after that very first evening.
It had been several days now since they had settled into that inn to begin the mission, though Nkosi had a suspicion the reason they lingered wasn’t only so Nkosi could get used to observing how the pesentry lived. He was young, not stupid. After all, there is only so many things it could be when Nubia is sent a message to perform a task from the Pharaoh and sneaking back late at night with a blade tinted crimson often enough that Nkosi had become accustomed to the increasing scent of copper, no matter how Nubia attempted to deguise it with even stronger, sweet smelling oils.
However, Nkosi held his tongue, pretending not to notice, or that he was fast asleep any time his guard returned blooded. He might not like the implications, but he was a prince. He knew that sometimes less palatable things had to be done for a greater cause. He also knew his brother would despite every time he would have to issue any order to cut the infection from the body of his kingdom, no matter how necessary it might be. And he knew Amen would never speak to him of it, at least while Nkosi was so young. That being the case, it just meant that Nkosi needed to work doubly hard to find his brother a wife able to support him, so he wouldn’t have to bear the burden alone.
And if Nubia got a few more cuddles than normal the morning after she returned from performing the deed, well, it was simply a coincidence.
Thus, with his guardian away on ‘business’, and his duty just that bit more imperative, the young boy would sneak out of the inn and would memorise the comings and goings of the people, with this day being another to add to his observations. The types of people who would walk the market in the early light of day certainly differed from those in the evening, or even those milling about at the days height. In not real rush at such an early time, the people were more like fish lazily floating in a shallow pond, drifting from one stall to another.
The boy bit back a giggle at the thought. Imagining the people as fish was kind of funny, no matter how fascinatingly true the comparison was.
Making his own way through the market the (certainly not a fish) boy would analyse any of the women that looked about the right age, trying to look for any of the characteristics he knew his brother would value in a wife who would rule at his side. She would have to be a strong woman, but kind. Someone who could be among and understand the people, yet also…*
Voice: RELIEF FOR THE POOR! IF IN NEED, COME TO ME! BE NOT AFRAID!
*Thoughts cut off, Nkosi rounded to where he heard the voice calling into the crowds. It belonged to a young woman, a little younger than Nubia was, with honey coloured eyes and dark, braided hair loosely fastened around her shoulder by a blue ribbon. Her voice was rich and soothing, like a song, even as she called out her offer of aid.
Perhaps it was that which drew him closer to her, eyes wide with fascination. As he approached, his eyes locked with hers and she stopped her calls, kneeling down to his level and patted his shaven head gently*
Woman: Are you in need, little one?
Nkosi: No, miss. I was wondering what it is you do?
Woman: Well, my Master ordered that I hand out our scraps to those who might need them. We do so every two days.
Nkosi: Ah. So...where is your master? Is he with you?
Woman: Ah, no, little one. He is at home asleep with the Mistress and their children. I do the work here before the day has truly started, then I return home.
Nkosi: ...Then what?
Woman: ...Well, then I will perform my daily duties.
Nkosi: Ah, no, not you. I mean, your master.
Woman: Oh! *Smile* Then the master will go about his duties!
Nkosi: Hm...Why...does he do it? The scraps thing, I mean. I don’t understand.
Woman: Well, it’s because there are people in need. Not everyone has money or can work-
Nkosi: Yet he sends you to do the job? Why?
Woman: *Raised eyebrow* You...ask a lot of questions, little one. Um...well...Master wishes to lighten his heart when we die-
*Nkosi stepped forwards slightly, sharp eyes pinning her down like a raptor, startling her into silence as he cut over her words, fueled by a determined fire*
Nkosi: But the deed is yours. You are the one who gives - he does not. His heart will remain the same when weighed by Anubis. If he truly wanted to do good, he should be helping the helpless himself. If he tries to pass off a deed done by someone else as his own, his heart will get eaten.
Woman: No! Thats…
*However, she could barely speak her retort under the child’s judging gaze. Her mouth was dry. Was this truely a child? However, whoever...whatever the boy was, she forced herself to explain.*
Woman: ...Master provides. We receive.
*Nkosi is silent for a moment, pondering on her words as his gaze stayed fixed on her, trying to see if the picture he was getting of the situation was the real one*
Nkosi: You eat when he tells you?
Woman: Yes.
Nkosi: You sleep when he tells you?
Woman: ...Yes?
Nkosi: You are not free. Do you dream when he tells you as well? Do you dream what he tells you?
*The woman seemed downright lost, if not a little unnerved by the almost scathing line of questioning.*
Woman: W-what’s your point?
*Did she honestly not get it?
Feeling an odd sense of disappointment, the disguised prince stepped back, shaking his head in mild chagrin*
Nkosi: Hmph...I was looking for a bride for my brother. Instead I found a pretty sheep with a canary’s voice…..My brother can’t marry such a person.
Woman: I...don’t understand.
Nkosi: I guess you wouldn’t. One more question.
*The woman jerked slightly at the abrupt topic change*
Woman: Uh...Yes?
*He could tell she was almost desperate to be away from the creepy kid asking questions she didn’t seem to get. Probably frustrated too, the way some adults in the court got when he bluntly told them they were idiots. He ignored it, his eyes remaining locked on hers, almost as if he could see her very soul if he stared hard enough. The woman shivered slightly. That, too, was ignored as he asked his question*
Nkosi: Miss Sheep...if you weren’t employed by your master, would you still give to the beggars, the poor men, the sick and the lame?
*The woman paused, a little surprised, before giving the question some thought. It was a puzzling one, the kind of question she might have expected from a priest, or someone more than twice her own age, ever mind the boy’s. It was one hard enough to answer even if it had been proposed innocently , but as she stared into the boy’s eyes, she didn’t see an innocent child, but something older than his appearance suggested.
It was as if she were the child and he was an elder, a wise teacher trying to impress some kind of lesson onto an underachieving apprentice.
Somehow, she didn’t think she would be able to give some nonsensical answer or offer a distraction and have it pass. Thus, she thought hard. And, thus, she answered.*
Woman: ...I….I wouldn’t….If I were without the employ of my master, I would likely be one of those beggars, the harlettes all scavenging for their betterman’s coin. Look around at night - that’s all this town is: The hungry man, and the one that is full. So, yes, I eat his scraps, but at least I am fed. I may work like a dog, but I have bread. I may...I may be a sheep, but at least I can survive….unlike them.
*Nkosi was silent for a moment longer, before finally easing his stare, shaking his head, disappointed*
Nkosi: And thus, a sheep you will remain unto death. No ambition. No integrity. Just grazing on the grass handed to you. I guess that’s the life you’ve chosen. But if you don’t even try to change, then it will never change.
*The woman reared back as if struck, pretty features twisting into something far less lovely*
Woman: How dare-!
*Her hand snapped back, preparing to slap the rude little demon, only to be caught in a vice-grip. Gasping, she twisted in time to see a slightly taller woman before she was pushed back, away from the child, causing the ‘sheep’ to stumble. The woman turned to say more, only to blanch and fall silent as she caught sight of the armour the interceptor wore.
The entire time, Nkosi’s eyes never left the woman now quivering on the ground. He didn’t have to look to know exactly who had arrived*
Nubia: Well said, little one. Now, shall we move on? My business here is done.
Nkosi: *Nod* Mm.
*Scooping up the child into her arms, feeling him settle there trustingly, Nubia carried him over to the camel, settling him into the saddle before mounting. After a moment to adjust into as much comfort as they could, Nubia flicked the reins and the Camel plodded away towards the exit of the town and the next part of their journey.
Nkosi leaned against his bodyguard, silently taking comfort in the warmth. However, the silence didn’t last long as Nuia finally spoke once they had settled into the rhythm of the camel’s movements*
Nubia: You shouldn’t sneak off like that. When I tell you to stay somewhere, you stay. Understand?
Nkosi: Why? I wasn’t in danger.
Nubia: Untrue. Every moment you are away from my eyes, you are in danger. Understand? The scars from your esteemed parents’ deaths still plague these lands. There are a lot of people who wish to continue those dark desires upon Pharaoh Amen. Thanks to the Majai, the attempts have thus far been unsuccessful. But there are other ways to harm mortal men, my prince.
Nkosi: But...Brother is a god incarnate-
Nubia: And thus as mortal as you in all but soul. If anything were to happen to you, it would destroy your brother.
*Breath catching in his throat, Nkosi’s eyes widened, fear, worry and so many other things tightening in his chest like a vice, finally beginning to understand the women's concerns. After all, while he didn’t recall that night - he had only been a babe at the time - she, and his brother, did. They knew what it was like to lose people they knew, not just rulers, but as people, as family, to dangers hiding in the shadows.
Twisting in the saddle, he clutched himself to her bosom, not entirely sure if the hug was for himself or for her*
Nkosi: I...I’m sorry...I won’t do it again. I was just...I was bored and….and I wanted to learn, like you told me, so I could….I… could…
*Nubia hushed him gently, pecking the child’s forehead and cheeks, petting his smooth head with a hand, directing the camel more with nudges of her feet than by the rein’s held loosely in her other hand.*
Nubia: It’s alright. I’m not mad. You just scared me, is all. When I found the room empty, I thought the worst...My heart almost stopped in my chest. Please...don’t do that again.
Nkosi: Yes, Ma’am.
Nubia drew him into a slightly awkward hug, murmuring a quiet thanks before they finally prided each other away to get settled back into the saddle properly and Nibia took proper hold of the reins once more. It would take some time to get to the next village and Nubia wanted to be sure thy could cover as much distance as possible before they had to rest. Her job in town, outside of watching over Nkosi’s task, might have been over, but she would feel a tad more at ease with that bit of distance between the city and them before night fell.
[END]
No comments:
Post a Comment