"Priest of the Pharaoh" by Travis W. Herring

“Well, Nazair? What is the word of Thoth in this matter?” Pharaoh Amenaten asked impatiently. Seated in the golden Throne of the Kings, he was raised above the rest of the court room, a series of steps leading down to the main floor of the receiving room. At floor level, a quartet of guards holding khopesh swords blocked access to his august presence while a quintet or more of men stood about, eyes on the Pharaoh in his seat. Each was a nobleman of the Kingdom, with a part to play in the drama unfolding before the young Pharaoh.

It was a test, Nazair knew. Eyeing the men through heavy-lidded eyes while he pondered the answer to the puzzle, the Pharaoh’s personal Loremaster was said to know the history of the Kingdoms, the aspects of magic in all of its forms, the rank and file of the gods AND their clergy, the proper construction of a pyramid and the work requirements thereof, the names of each and every nobleman and his children, and the curatives to heal any harm that might befall any man, from lowest slave to the Pharaoh himself. Indeed, it was said that he had kept the young Pharaoh from dying when his mother was stabbed while giving birth to him. From preventing the potential disaster of having no heir to the Dynasty to raising the boy and training him to understand the depth of the mysteries of the universe and Maat, Nazair was Amenaten’s personal shadow.

It had not taken a genius, Nazair had explained to the furious and bereaved Pharaoh (Amenaten’s father and Nazair’s first lord), to know who was involved and have them tracked down and made to pay for the crime of attempted Regicide. The lords in question were stopped at the border checkpoints Nazair had deduced were the most likely exit points from the Kingdoms, brought back in chains, and tortured in front of the Pharaoh in full sight of anyone who wished to watch.

This, despite Nazair’s warning that doing so would only further enrage those who, while not taking part in the attempted murder of the Pharaoh’s son, had reason to dislike the man intensely. When they saw their companions disemboweled in public, it threw the momentum to the rebels, and within a year, the Pharaoh was dead and Amenaten raised to take his place – despite the fact that he was only twelve months old at the time. Nazair, immune to the threats of the nobles due to his neutral stance and provision of the Law of Thoth as guidance to any who asked, simply stood up, brought the boy from the field where he had been hunting lion with his Master Hunter, and placed him on the Throne of Kings, naming him Pharaoh like his father before him – before even telling the boy that his father was dead.

Cold. Calculating. Ruthless. Those who faced the reactions of Thoth’s law called Nazair Akethoth these names and more on many occasions. Attempts on his life were rare – he was, after all, Thoth’s personal adjutant to the Pharaoh, advising him on affairs both civil and religious. An attack on him was to affront the gods themselves – but those who felt it was time to upend the gods sometimes took that risk anyway.

It was said that Akethoth (or “Of Thoth”) was protected by the god himself, having manifested himself on more than one occasion to protect his High Priest from blows. In fact, it was said, Thoth himself appeared when Akethoth was struck, preventing blows from landing, and allowing the priest to return Thoth’s vengeance in immediate form, via a powerful flail whose blows crushed armor and skulls with equal abandon.

The High Priest completed his contemplation and mouthed a quiet prayer in thanks to his god’s advise just granted, opening his eyes, shaking the flowing white robes of office away from his right hand before raising it to level it at a fat nobleman standing in the midst of the group. The others eyed him for a moment and stepped away, leaving him staring in awe at the bald Voice of Thoth. “Thoth’s rule states that those who conspire to bring about the downfall of the Kingdoms and the health of the Pharaoh are without friend, without aid, and without recourse.”

At the completion of Nazair’s speech, a pillar of flame descended from the ceiling of the chamber, engulfing the nobleman, who shrieked in surprise and pain, only to be extinguished almost immediately. When the flames, which were only painful to those directly near it, subsided, there was naught left but a char mark on the floor, where once had stood a rich and influential peer of the nobility. All eyes were on Akethoth, wide with fear and recognition of his connection to Thoth. For, had he not told the truth, would the man have just been immolated before he could be punished by the Pharaoh!?

“Akethoth!” the youthful Pharaoh yelled, outraged and standing with both hands on his golden throne, “What makes you take the Rite of Justice from me!?”

Nazair’s eyes resumed their heavy-lidded appearance and he turned to the boy he had raised as his own son. “Thoth whispered his conspiracies in my ear, my King,” he replied casually. “He demanded immediate justice, as you saw…”

In the circle of nobles gathered around the remains of their peer, sweat began to break out and uncertain looks passed around. The guards at the Pharaoh’s base grew more wary and the Pharaoh himself, while somewhat mollified, still glared.

“Explain yourself!”

“The man immolated by Thoth’s will was but the ringleader, deserving of swift, painful justice and a quick trip to Thoth’s eternal judgement. The men standing before you, however,” and here, he swept his lidded gaze to the nobles before nodding, “are the co-conspirators, milord. This… invitation… to visit our neighbors on a hunting party,” he paused, watching panic begin to appear in the eyes of the nobles, “is but a front for an assassination attempt.”

The guards at the base of the Pharaoh’s dais stepped forward, raising their khopesh as the men began wailing and crying their denials.

“You are certain of this?” the Pharaoh asked, uncertain. Nazair knew how much the Pharaoh liked to hunt. As did the conspirators… Amenaten wanted dearly to go on the trip. Nazair had taken the chance now that they had come to press for his attendance at this… function… to find out what the REAL situation was. Thoth’s answer had been abrupt and direct to the point.

“I am,” Nazair replied.

Amenaten sighed and sat down. “Deal with them as is written in Thoth’s law, then,” the Pharaoh said. The guards moved forward to arrest the conspirators.

And then one of the lords threw his hands out, blasting a stream of fire into the chest of one of the guards, incinerating him in a screaming blast of heat and stench. A nobleman was chopped down, two others were cut into by the khopesh blades, and a fourth leapt into the air, landing at the Pharaoh’s side! A blade in his hand, he rushed to the young Pharoah and held a blade to him, glaring at Akethoth, still standing idly at the base of the steps.

“NEVER!” he cried, pushing the blade up against the Pharaoh’s young throat. “Thoth is wrong!”

“Thoth,” Nazair said casually, “is NEVER wrong.”

Mentally intoning a call to Thoth, he focused his will on the noble, who froze in place, eyes going wide as he realized he was no longer in charge of his own body. The Pharaoh, terrified but realizing that his High Priest had just saved his life, stepped away and eyed the frozen nobleman. Turning to the guards (who had survived the short and brutal slayings), he nodded his chin at the frozen man.

“Take him out into the square and draw and quarter him. But… do it slowly. I want him to last for several days…” The eyes of the nobleman widened in terror and agony, realizing he had lost his chance to die quickly, like his comrades had just managed to do, and would take MUCH longer. “When they are finished,” the Pharaoh continued, grin turning wicked as he reached out and plucked the dagger from the frozen man’s hand, “Attend the necromancers to him and have them do it again…”

Nazair nodded, turning to the guards, who stomped up the stairs, bound the man in ropes, and led him away.

That night, after being profusely thanked by the young Pharaoh, Nazair dropped the bomb he had been wrestling with for days on his young king. “I must leave you, Sire.”

“What?! But the Kingdoms are rife with rebellion!?” the boy cried, fearing for his life. “You SAW what happened today! If it had not been for you, I would be going on this hunting trip, and to my doom!”

“You have learned all you can from me, Sire,” Nazair said quietly. “There is knowledge Thoth would have me learn outside the Kingdoms.”

“You are leaving the KINGDOMS!?” the Pharaoh nearly shrieked. “I forbid it!”

“You cannot forbid a servitor of Thoth,” Nazair remarked. “And I would disregard your words in any case. It is not intellect which has you say this. It is emotion, and we both know that emotion is fraught with peril when given reign over your decisions.”

“Do not go!” the young king said, moving to grip Nazair’s hand. “Don’t leave me!”

Nazair turned to a side door, which opened at a mental calling, revealing a young woman dressed in slave’s clothing. “This is Nesha,” the High Priest said, noting the immediate hungry look that took over the Pharaoh’s expression. “She is trained in the ways of Thoth, as I am. She served a nobleman who turned against you, lord. She knows of the conspirators throughout the Kingdoms, and I have confirmed that she wishes only to serve you and the betterment of our realms, rather than the power hungry schemes of a madman who would overturn our way of life. She will take my place while I am gone.”

“She is a SLAVE!”

“She is beautiful, is she not?” Nazair commented wryly, raising an eyebrow. The woman in question had lowered her gaze to the ground and stood quietly, her outstanding figure quite obvious beneath the gauzy drapery she wore. “What nobleman would question having a favorite harem girl near his Pharaoh’s side? Some of them argue that you care not for women, though it is well known that is not the case. Keep her near you. Let her play games in front of the nobles. Allow her to whisper in your ear when she has something to say. All will think they are love comments, if you wait a sufficient amount of time before acting on her warnings…”

“They will think I am being led by a force other than my mind,” the young Pharaoh replied, grinning. “With you, it is easy to explain. With HER?” His eyes wandered her form hungrily again. “They will think I am letting a HAREM girl run the Kingdoms.”

“As I said,” Nazair replied evenly, “not if you give it sufficient time before making your decisions. Delay your answers if need be. Tell them that without me, you must ponder your thoughts, or try to contact me for advice. Speak with her in the interim, and she will tell you what you need to know in my absence.”

“I can trust her?”

“As you trust me, Amenaten. Thoth’s servitors serve the Kingdoms, not the people. What is good for the Kingdoms is our goal. All else is trivial. She knows that, as do I.”

---

When Nazair took ship to the northern lands a few days later, he left behind a Pharaoh who was still pondering exactly what his last words had meant – whether that meant the Kingdoms came before even a Pharaoh, or not.

Nazair knew the Pharaoh would not like the answer…