The Forgotten God

Chapter Twenty-Five

A sultry heat permeated the air in the room. The evening breeze was sparse but encouraged by the open doors. Not one remained closed, the warmth made more obvious by the gold surroundings that glowed like another burning sun.

In the shady corner two musicians played the lyre and the shepherd's pipe, providing a lively tune for the scantily clad dancer who weaved herself skilfully into erotic and sensual positions. The heady scent of incense surrounded her. With the rhythm of her menit-necklace and the sistra it was an evocative display.

The musicians also watched her, as if hypnotised or playing their music to suit her moves. They had no concept of musical notation. The tunes were passed down from one generation to the next and adapted along the way.

The older servants, a motley looking crew of varying ages and appearance, watched her leeringly or with a half appreciation of the movement, focusing on the sweet, red wine that only the Gods were able to procure.

Am Heh sat out the way at the head of the room, leaning against the palm of his hand in clear boredom, twirling a lock of his hair occasionally to relieve the monotony. He glanced out towards a sundial that sat in the courtyard, just about visible from his vantage point.

Thank Atum he had almost been there long enough to be considered polite.

He got to his feet, shooting a stony glare toward his butler.

"I trust you to keep them under some control. I do not wish to find this room ruined. Set and Horus are the only ones I expect to do that but I do at least know the bed won't be a mess like the last time they decided to attempt reconciliation."

Alcohol, l**t and hate were a dangerous mix. The hope that Am-Heh's surroundings would have quelled it had been a futile one.

"No, great one," the butler bowed, his balding head reflecting the golden light "I shall see every inch of the room is spotless and none will be allowed to drink to huge excess."

"Good. Make sure you do or consequences will follow."

The threat was vague but full of purpose as he walked away, nodding to the musicians who were about to pause in respect. With one look from the hard eyes, they continued filling the air with the beautiful notes, weaving the story the dancer so skilfully enacted before her audience.

As the grand doors slowly closed and he made his way down the corridor the sounds of revelry died away. He paused for a moment, leaning against the wall with a sigh.

"All I can be thankful for is that I do not have to do this often," he muttered grumpily "otherwise the grounds would be ablaze with flaming corpses."

He drew in a harsh breath and rubbed his temples, feeling the tension abate slightly. His sharp ears heard someone approach and his eyes rose abruptly.

Ishaq froze as he rounded the corner, dropping into a hasty bow, his feet skidding clumsily on the polished floor and almost dropping the basket he carried, full of bones and scraps for the hounds waiting for him. Blood seeped through the woven wicker, and several droplets wound irritatingly down his leg. However hard he tried to drain the excess from the flesh there was always some that eluded him.

He looked down sheepishly.

"Apologies, great one," he whispered, feeling even more puny before him and ashamed to be seen in such a mess, his hair akimbo and dust clinging to his smooth skin, glistening with strain. "The cook was using the bucket and..."

He tailed off, the excuse, while true, seemed weak.

"I fear she enjoys making life difficult also," Am-Heh's smooth voice countered and Ishaq swore he heard a hint of amusement in the rich baritone. "She is a woman who even I would not wish to work beside."

Ishaq chuckled and nodded. "She has had a hard life I believe, great one."

"She was built for it," Am-Heh moved over and took the basket from Ishaq's arms, running a clawed finger under the base. A warm shimmer interweaved between the fibres, sealing them firmly. With that he handed it back. "There. It should not leak now."

"Th-thank you," Ishaq bowed awkwardly, biting his tongue before he said anything else, remembering the God's warning which he had already flouted once, albeit without recourse.

"Walk with me," Am-Heh clicked his fingers "I see no reason to waste this moment since you are heading towards the dogs anyway. I might as well save time."

Ishaq nodded, struggling to keep up with the God's swift pace. He seemed to glide over the tiles effortlessly and quickly without a sound to announce his presence.

Even the air created around him seemed to be reverent, wafting away to avoid causing an iota of discomfort.

The dogs were not so apprehensive on seeing or greeting their master, bounding over with playful yaps without a care in the world.

Ishaq was heartened and surprised to witness Am-Heh soften, the cold exterior melting enough to allow a soft smile as he ruffled the soft fur on the nearest b***h's head.

Am-Heh bristled slightly as he realised his faux pas and straightened abruptly.

"They are fine company," he said for the want of anything better as they clamoured to see inside the basket, almost knocking Ishaq over in their eagerness. "Not to mention highly helpful when hunting."

Ishaq nodded, dropping the bones and scraps as near to their bowls as he was able, avoiding excited nips from the playful jaws. He started when the teeth grazed his fingers, raking the knuckles but not breaking the skin. Even they knew not to bite the hand that fed them, not too hard anyway.

"They are lovely animals," Ishaq said without thinking, feeling too at ease around his master to feel fear. "The dogs where I used to live were mostly feral. Their job was to reduce rats and other vermin, but of course they also became quite territorial. I was chased on more than one occasion."

Am-Heh gave a sound that seemed remarkably like a chuckle, giving Ishaq a small lift of confidence.

"May I speak more candidly, great one?"

"So polite," Am-Heh answered with a touch of sarcasm, making it clear he had been unimpressed with the conversation already given without prior consent, chiding himself inwardly for not saying anything. "Go ahead."

"You will forgive me, I hope," Ishaq said cautiously, his eyes on the dogs who were squabbling over the largest bone. "But-but you should not be uncomfortable with showing softness, not around me. I do not think any less of people who emote fondness."

The God bristled and his eyes darkened. A flash of anger radiated and one could also see fiery sparks ignite. His fist clenched and the temptation to c***k the mortal across the skull was hard to resist but he couldn't. Anyone else would have felt the full force of his fury but instead he turned, biting his lip sharply.

"To address a God as such is an insult," he hissed between gritted teeth "none as accustomed to being questioned by a mortal and none should be. Such a transgression would normally mean your skin would be split open by countless lashes; do you realise that?"

Ishaq's heart sank and he dropped to his knees in contrition. "I apologise, great one. I am prone to speak my mind and I find it hard not to. If that is the consequence of such insolence then I will accept it."

Mandisa knew ways of treating open sores and wounds caused by the harsh canes and violent lashes. Whilst the pain would be no less excruciating, it was a blessing to know that the risk of infection was minimal.

Am-Heh gazed silently at him for some moments as his favourite dog whimpered, nuzzling the others hand curiously. He moved to pat the dogs head gently, allowing the anger to flow away.

"It is refreshing to have someone who speaks their mind, at least one who speaks it with politeness," he said finally, leaning to tilt Ishaq's head up. "I am simply not used to it, especially since your words are very true. My existence was not one created to have humanity; my job is one where emotion would be seen as unwise after all. To feel anything is alien to me, I have hardened my heart to stone for so long. I suppose animals are the only living creatures to see anything more in me."

"Some humans have similar ideas," Ishaq dared look up, his eyes radiating the docile nature of a deer in a tranquil oasis. "From the Pharaoh himself to the head of a pauper household. Men in particular see a show of heart as weakness, when, at least in my own worthless view, it shows a far stronger person. Someone real and not simply a golem of stone."

The words resonated deeply in the heated yet stony heart. He ran a clawed finger over the contours of the innocent face, pushing away the curled lock that fell over the brown orbs.

"You are wise, Ishaq," he said quietly "far more so than many mortals, perhaps even some Gods. For that reason, I hesitate is sentencing you to the whip, and other reasons stop me entirely. Regardless, your words will certainly remain with me." He drew back and turned towards to the high gates where a low sniffing could be heard, the large beasts beyond sensing the presence of their master. "Come, the reason I brought you here was to learn and not be taught anything myself. Stay near to me and no harm will befall you."

The gate opened as if anticipating his next movement and Ishaq paled as he saw the two colossal dogs that stood to attention beyond, their hackles half raised until Am-Heh shook his head.

Monstrous yet magnificent, their black fur shimmered like onyx and bright yellow eyes stared knowingly from the crafted skull.

Ishaq could not imagine himself able to deal with them.

The garden, if it could be called that, was a vast expanse of charred ground and bubbling pools of crimson lava or searing waters. Strange creatures inhabited their depths, peering out the steaming fluids before vanishing beneath once again. Somewhere, in one of the crippled and blackened trees, a bird of some sort could be heard, singing an eerie and warbling tune.

"Their bark is worse than their bite," Am-Heh assured him, stepping aside for the dogs to sniff the air, becoming used to his scent. "They know you are no threat but that does not mean they won't try and intimidate you. It is just their way."

Ishaq nodded, his eyes clouded with uncertainty, but still he inched forward, holding a shaking had out for the damp muzzle to take breath of.

"These are the eldest two," Am-Heh continued "Kamiliah and Runihura. They are the sires of two pups who one of my guards is training to hunt. He has been in charge of that for years and I trust him implicitly to do it correctly, his father, I believe, trained dogs for sport and passed that knowledge down."

"What will my duties be, great master?" Ishaq asked, bowing his head low to gloss over the fact he had spoken without being encouraged. "I hope to become one who can do something far better than any other, so you will perhaps see me in that capacity one day."

Loyalty strained and fuelled that passion, but so did the selfish temptation of slightly better rations. A flaw that caused his throat to feel thick and a remorseful sweat to shimmer on his brow.

'It was the same in lessons,' he reminded himself as he tried to avoid Am-Heh's gaze 'you worked harder to earn such boons and harder still to relieve the guilt you felt over that and making others look idle.'

It was the laxity of others that made them look idle. They had the capacity to work just as hard, but some wouldn't, their eyes on prizes beyond their reach or they didn't see a point. Why learn when one would work the fields or be a labourer or trader at the markets? It seemed a waste of time to learn academic skills when their time was better spent on developing the tricks of their future trade.

"Ishaq," Am-Heh began slowly before stopping himself. He couldn't tell the slave he was already more valuable than others in his eyes. There was no logical reason for him being so, except for his nature and willingness. Yet, others were almost the same and he looked on them with the contempt humans deserves, lessened only by a tolerance for their ethics. He cleared his throat, keeping his voice frosty. "Your duties are much the same as what you do with the other hounds. However, these need higher quality meat, braised only to sear the blood in the flesh. The bone must be left in to provide extra nutrients and fats to keep their form."

Nodding, Ishaq reached to touch the head of the nearest hound. It stared at him before allowing his fingers to smooth the coarse black fur with a snort. It felt the warmth and peace from the contact, and its Master's presence confirmed trust. As long as that continued the slave would have no problems, its might would be reserved for bringing down its prey or any hapless victim deemed a threat or disgrace.

Am-Heh nodded approvingly. "For the first time I shall come with you," he said, turning to look over the fiery landscape. "After that you ought to be fine."

'I hope so,' Ishaq thought, but said nothing "upsetting such animals would be a death sentence, if not immediate it would certainly do so later.'

Sensing his apprehension, Am-Heh was about to give some words of reassurance, stopping himself before he did. Gritting his teeth gestured tersely.

"Come, we have been here long enough and I am sure, if you have no other duties to perform, you wish to rest. Your day starts early and ends late."

"Yes, great one," Ishaq was all too happy to leave the sight of the dogs, their gaze hard and belittling. He could tell that they would not make life easy for him, knowing they were more highly thought of than a lowly mortal, more powerful and blessed.

He could only hope that Am-Heh's presence would lessen their prideful attitude and urge them to welcome him more.

"They are fed in the cool of the morning and in the shadows of the evening," Am-Heh closed the gate with a sharp click. "It means the meat won't sit long enough for it to fester and be wasted." His eyes narrowed. "Whilst you may not believe it, they are considerate eaters. If the heat rises too much and the flesh begins to smell then they will leave it."

Ishaq tried to keep the scepticism from his expression as he, once again, just nodded. He had seen beast's half that size feast upon their catch in such a grotesque manner that one would have thought they had not eaten for months, ripping b****y chunks from the bone and snapping at one another if they thought another was too slow.

"Return to your quarters," Am-Heh finished dismissively, resting a hand on the nearest dog who sat looking up with soulful eyes, reading her master better than any. "I will send for you before the sun awakens."

Without waiting for a reply or acknowledgment, he strode away stiffly, bemused by the influx of emotions he was feeling churning within. As a God known for ruthlessness, for his composure and indifference, these were all alien to him. He had become accustomed to the belief that Atum had neglected to instil any heart in him, crafting him of nothing but bitter character and the ardent drive of fire.

Now more tender, more empathetic sensations touched him and it was hard to process.

Ishaq stroked one of the dogs unconsciously, waiting for the God to depart from sight before following wearily and heading to his bed. A simple mattress of straw and coarse blanket, it was nevertheless a welcome sight and refuge from labour and the fatigue that suddenly overtook him.

'I'm being foolish,' he thought as he lay down, shifting until he had made himself comfortable, ignoring the sound of another snoring nearby. 'I'm just in awe, the presence of such a being confuses the system and it is easy to read more into his lenience.'

Even with his supposed logic it still didn't make sense, having heard of the God's hard nature when it came to keeping order. His warmer words and flustered attitude could not be written off as seeing a visage that was not there.

Yet, it seemed unfeasible that deeper, more desirous feelings beat in his heart or, if Ishaq even admitted more than awe, that it would be returned.

He groaned, a headache forming, and closed his eyes. Morning came too quickly and from now on it seemed he must rise earlier.

The other servant gave a loud snort and his blanket rustled as he turned, shaking Ishaq from his thoughts. Rolling his eyes, he pulled his own blanket over his head to muffle the sound, knowing he'd wake with a full head the next morning. It was worth it to gain sleep though.

It took him quickly, a calming darkness that took away the strains and strangeness of the day.