6“How did I get here?” Chione asked weakly from her cot.
“Aaron carried you,” Rita said. Her red curls drooped from perspiration.
“Where is everyone?” she asked, hearing only an occasional voice outside.
“Inside the tomb.”
“How long have I—”
“You slept a bit, mumbled like you were dreaming.”
Chione sat up, turned to the small electric fan and rubbed tension from the back of her neck. Fleeting scenes from a dream flickered through her mind. Scenes of a beautiful priestess, Pharaoh's concubine, throwing herself at his feet… waiting for his command to rise… or to sensually creep up his muscular legs. How she could bring mighty Pharaoh to his knees. “Oh, my!” Chione said.
“What is it?”
Chione realized again that she was inside her own yurt and closed her eyes to dispel the erotic scene
